#i got a laugh out of each of these but ET gets drunk *really* got me

[jesncin]

Martian Bartender is a wonderful name, but it's not uncommon for ships to get multiple names, so, let's see...

Choco shake

Scene where E.T. gets drunk

Marsgarita

Shakeshifter

Al-ien

I love these ship names!!! :'D "scene where ET gets drunk" is the specialist name of all time

[mslizsteele-stories]

Soju

☾︎✯☽︎

"You did pretty well during your shift," Jiyong commented by the time my shift ended.

It was already three in the morning, and everyone vacated the club since it was closing time. The staff cleared and rid the tables of any empty bottles of alcohol and plates, placing the stools on top. The DJ was putting away his equipment in their designated cases, in preparation for his departure from the club. Chaeyoung left a bit early saying that she - and I quote - "needed to catch some Zs and watch Netflix later in the day."

"It was nothing I couldn't handle." I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Glad to hear it."

"So, did I pass the test?"

Jiyong smiled, extending his hand toward me. "Welcome aboard. I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise." I smiled, shaking his hand briefly.

"Make sure you go to the reception desk. Jisoo will give you your schedule and some documentation that you may need to fill in," he told me. "When do you wanna start?"

"Anytime is fine. I'm just glad I have a job."

"Alright. So, I guess I'll see you next week." He turned his heels and started leaving, but not before yelling. "Don't be late."

☾︎✯☽︎

"We get health benefits?!" I exclaimed surprised, staring at my contract.

Jisoo, the receptionist laughed. "Yes, everyone here has health benefits."

In all my years of bartending, getting benefits of any sort was rare. Most bar owners, club owners et cetera don't always feel obligated to provide such since it's the employee's responsibility. So, you can imagine the shock I got after finding out that not only did I get paid in addition to the tips I collected per shift, but I also had my health covered and health insurance is expensive as hell.

"Just how rich is this guy?" I thought out loud.

"He is a businessman. Not only does he own this establishment, but he also has his very own fashion label."

My eyebrows flew up. "Well flip me like a pancake. I won't be surprised if this guy owns a whole island because holy shit!"

Jisoo laughed again. "He is a generous man who treats everyone who works for him like family. You'll fit right in."

"Sure." I drawled out, checking the time on my phone. "Look, I gotta dip and head home. It's pretty late. See you next week."

"Okay." She smiled and waved at me as I made my way to the exit.

I went to the parking lot where my car was. As I searched for my car keys, I spotted the dancer from earlier hopping on her motorcycle. Gone was her stage outfit and lo and behold was her casual attire that consisted of a pair of tight jeans that hugged and shaped her small waist going down to her hips and slender legs with a pair of combat boots and a black leather jacket over her white tank top.

I watched her slip on her helmet before her eyes met mine. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I awkwardly waved at her not knowing what else to do in the situation. She smiled, sliding down the visor of her helmet and kick-started her motorcycle before driving off into the night.

☾︎✯☽︎

"Can you explain to me why you were fighting with the police over garden gnomes at your gig?" Chaerin asked, raising an eyebrow at Christian.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about?" he stuttered with a laugh.

She took out her phone and open the video in question where Christian was arguing with the police while holding the garden gnome possessively to his chest until he was eventually tased and handcuffed on her Instagram.

I watched nonchalantly chewing on my gimbap while Christian's face flushed with embarrassment. "Okay. In my defence, I thought that was a Leprechaun." He said.

"Really dude?" I lidded my eyes, unamused by his excuse to hide the fact that he was drunk.

"What? Leprechauns are cool!"

"They're not real."

"But they're still cool."

Chaerin sighed while I rolled my eyes.

We were at one of the restaurants we usually hung up to catch up after our hectic and busy schedules with Christian running his record and filming company, Chaerin freelancing as a DJ at various clubs and events while also touring with Christian and me freelancing as a bartender.

"Anyway, how did your interview go?" Chaerin turned to me.

"Better than I expected," I answered. "I start next week and judging from the high-paying salary among other things, I'll say your friend's joint sounds promising."

"Oh, it is. I worked for Jiyong for years before I started my own thing. You'll love it there." She said. "Plus, with your good reputation, his place will attract new patrons and that will look good for business."

"You should give us free drinks when we come by some time, yeah?" Christian said, making me roll my eyes.

"You've been saying that for years and I will give you the same answer; no, I will not be doing that," I told him.

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Because one: that is unethical. And two: giving you free drinks means I have to pay for them and last I checked, you're old enough to pay for your own drinks, Christian."

"Chaerinnie! Olive Oil is being mean to me!"

"I'm not the one who's being a baby about it."

"And I'm not the one who's the namesake of one of the characters from Avatar: Legend of Korra."

"You're lucky I'm in too much of a good mood to even pimp slap the bitch outta you."

"Run them hands, boi. I will fold you like an omelette."

"Boys!" Chaerin reprimanded us with an unamused face. "Ton down on the testosterone, please. I am the middle child in this friend group - not the mum."

"Whatever." Christian rolled his eyes before waving at the waitress to come over to our table. "Can we have the bill, please?"

"Not a problem, sir. Will you be paying in cash or card?" she asked.

"Cash, please." Christian took out his wallet and opened it until he cussed under his breath. "I'm short on cash and I lost my bank card."

"Again?! This is the fifth time this month, Christian!" Chaerin scolded him.

"I thought I had more than enough cash to pay this time. And I was going to replace it first thing tomorrow!" he retaliated.

"How did you lose it this time?"

"...I got robbed while I was drunk."

"Unbelievable. Unbe-fucking-lievable. How Mei puts up with your shenanigans is far beyond me."

"Hey! Keep my fiancée's name out your fucking mouth!"

"I'll pay," I told the waitress, giving her an apologetic smile while my friends were bickering.

"Okay. I'll be back with your bill." She smiled.

I nodded, returning the smile, which caused her cheeks to turn red before she turned her heels and went where she needed to go.

"Oh no. I know that look." Christian commented.

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "What look?"

"The look you give when you set eyes on the next female you want to penetrate."

Chaerin cringed in disgust while I rolled my eyes. "I just smiled at her, and she blushed. I can't help the fact that every small thing I do will cause an attractive and sexual reaction out of every woman who sets their sights on me." I retorted.

"Sure." He drawled out sarcastically.

"Read this, asshole." I flipped the bird at him as he and Chaerin stood up and gathered their things.

"We're gonna head home and call it a night," Chaerin said before pulling Christian's ear. "And you better pay him back when you replace your card, you hear me."

"Aish! Careful or you're going to rip my ear off, woman!" he cried on their way to the exit.

The waitress returned with the bill and slid it towards me. I noticed the 'My shift ends in five minutes' written in cursive blank ink right underneath the amount I was supposed to pay.

I met her eyes and arched an eyebrow. She simply smiled and winked at me in response.

☾︎✯☽︎

I nearly stumbled as I entered the small bedroom inside of her small apartment. She pushed me against her door, closing it in the process, as she smashed and devoured my lips with her own. I placed my hands on her hips pulling her closer to me.

We kissed and kissed, Tongues brushing and dancing against another. Our heads tilted and switched positions after every few seconds or so. Our breaths mixed with the sound of our lips smacking against each other. Clothes were removed and thrown carelessly across the room.

Wanting to re-establish my dominance, I switched our positions, pushing her against her door. She gasped softly at the action then smiled before pulling me into another kiss. My left hand slid into her lace panties and brushed against her already wet clit. She pulled away and gaped her mouth. I moved my digits around her clit, rubbing it in circles and staring into her lust-filled eyes. Her body shook and trembled under my touch. Her moans occupied the silence in her room.

"You're teasing me." She whined.

"Is that so?" I inserted two digits inside her.

She titled her head back, crying out in pleasure. "Yes!"

I slowly pumped my digits in and out of her until I picked up and quickened the pace.

I laid her down on her twin-sized bed, pulling down her lace panties. I lapped up, using my elbows to support myself. I kissed her tummy, then her inner thigh and gave her throbbing womanhood a light blow, making her shiver with anticipation. I could tell that she was waiting and silently begging me to give her what she wanted from the way she moved her hips. And waste no time I gave it to her.

She arched her back and dragged out every syllable in the word 'fuck. I reached up and cupped her breasts while she grinded her hips, wrapped her legs around my neck and ran her fingers through my hair, tugging it in the process. Her moans grew louder with every stroke my tongue made against her clit and folds.

"I'm gonna cum." She cried out.

"Not yet." I pulled away, flipping her on her stomach, lining my hard cock to her entrance. I kiss her spine and work my way up to her shoulder.

"Once I go in, I won't hold back," I whispered in her ear. "Do you want this?"

She nodded with anticipation. I rubbed my cock against her entrance before slowly slipping inside her. A high-pitched gasp escaped her lips while a grunt left mine. When I was sure she had adjusted to my size, I slowly moved, snapping my hips back and forth.

Her head pressed against her pillow. Her hands gripped her sheets. She bit her lips trying to stifle her moans but to no avail. She adjusted herself, propping herself up on her elbows, lying on all fours as she moved her hips to meet my thrusts with her own. I buried my face in the crook of her neck and cupped her breasts.

Everything else became a blur that night in her room along with her moans.

[cherrycola27]

Domestic AF

A/N please enjoy this domestic Rooster drabble brought on by a conversation with @marvelsvalhalla who is 100% the Maverick to my Goose

Warnings: Fluff. Partial nudity. Language. Allusions to smut. Minors DNI 18+

The morning light slowly began to peak through your curtains. You stretched your body and wiggled your toes. You turned and tossed an arm out searching for the man that should be occupying the other side of your bed. Feeling nothing but cold sheets you sit up and look for your boyfriend. The shower was off and his clothes were in a neat pile on the dresser. Where could he be?

You went to the closet and threw on one of yours... his t-shirts and pair of biker shorts. "Babe" you called walking down the stairs. You turned the corner to the kitchen and froze in the doorway.

There stood Rooster Bradshaw cooking breakfast in your kitchen. He had his AirPods in listening to who knows what and he flitted about.

You rested in the doorway and gaped at the sight because besides his AirPods the only thing he was wearing was your pink "Kiss the Cook" apron. He was turned facing the stove so his perfectly sculpted ass was on full display for you. You giggled as you watched his hips sway to the song he was listening too which causes the rooster tattooed on his right cheek to move to the beat. You teased him so hard for that tattoo the first time you saw it. His face was as red as a beet when he explained how drunk he was when he got it and how he would never drink tequila again because of it.

You were too busy enjoying the view you didn't realize you hadn't made your presence known until you heard a pan clatter onto the counter snapping you out of your trance. "Jesus babe. You scared the shit out of me." Rooster said taking off some oven mits and putting his AirPods away. "How long have you been standing there?" He asks. You pause taking in the picture before you. Rooster in a pink frilly apron, hands on his hips with a breakfast spread laid out before him you couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out.

"You mind telling me what the fuck is so funny?" He stated cocking his head to the side. "You... this... its just...." You were wheezing now clutching your sides trying to regain your composure. "I'm what?" Rooster asked getting flustered. He came around the kitchen island and helped you stand upright.

"Bradley," you began whiping a tear from your eye. "You just look so Domestic AF right now! I mean the breakfast, the apron... its just too much." You started laughing again. Rooster rolled his eyes and looked down at you.

"And why aren't you wearing clothes? What if someone broke in? Are you just going to fight them naked?" You giggled again gesturing to his interesting attire choice. He walked away from you having enough of your shit.

"Roos, you can't be mad at me!" You whined. "I mean after last night's activities and how er... erm primal you were I really didn't expect to see you down here making breakfast. Though I have to admit the view is fantastic." You shot him a wink

"Listen if you are going to keep talking about my ass-ets there will be no French Toast for you young lady!" He called while half threatening you with a spatula. Rooster put his AirPods back in, stuck his tounge out at you and began cracking some eggs in a pan.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your mouth only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You went to answer it and found some of your best friends standing in the doorway. Hangman, Bob, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote waited for you to invite them in.

"Why are you at my house?" You asked "It's Squad Breakfast Saturday and your turn to host... you didn't forget did you?" Bob asked while shifting a box of pastries in his had. "No!" You screeched out "Of course I didn't forget" you had totally forgotten. "Um hold on just wait here for like 5 minutes so I can go change" you said franticly trying to close the door. "Jesus Y/N we have all seen each other in way less Hangman said pushing past you and entering your foyer. "I'm going to go put this juice in the fridge" Jake said walking past you "Jake wait!" You cried but it was too late

"Ahh my eyes!" You heard Hangman yell as he ran out of the kitchen. "Seresin what the Fuck!" You heard Bradley yell. "You could have warned me that Bradshaw was naked in your Kitchen Y/N! Now I need to go boil my face to get that image out of my head!" Jake complained. "I tried to get you to wait out side but no!" You shot back. "Now can everyone wait on the porch so no one else sees my boyfriend naked please?" You asked ushering everyone back outside.

Fifteen minutes and a whole lot of bitching from Jake later everyone was seated having a nice breakfast. Rooster was sending jabs at Hangman by constantly wagging his eyebrows and asking Jake if he liked what he saw. Jake was still so red he couldn't come up with a comeback. As everyone was finishing up Hangman finally thought of one.

"Hey Bradshaw... mind telling us the story behind the chicken tattooed on your ass?" Jake laughed out.

"First off... it is a ROOSTER not a chicken." Bradley corrected "And second off I was drunk off my ass on tequila in Mexico and got it on a dare." Rooster finished.

"Can we see it?" Bob asked without missing a beat "Sure thing Bobby Boy" Rooster replied getting up. He was just about to show what his momma and tequila gave him when you promptly stood up.

"No... no one else gets to see my boyfriends ass besides me!" You stated covering him up. That earned a laugh from the group as you went to sit back down next to Rooster. He pulled you close and whispered in your ear. "Maybe I should tell them about you hidden tattoo." You choked on your orange juice and shot him a look. He winked at you and then went back to talking with your friends.

[pure-kirarin]

Killer x reader (having a stressful day) English / French

Disclaimer : This will be in French and English. It was written originally in French and translated to english. I added the french version at the end of the post if anyone is interested. 

A/N :  こんばんは !  ♡ リクエストしてくれてありがとう~  @holykillercake​ san. This is my first time writing something both in English and in French. Alsooo, writing something for Pasta-husbando ! I hope that you will like it >o< I never noticed that Kirarin & Killer both have “キラ”, this explain why Killer’s hair is so healthy and shiny...Anyways~  始めましょう !

-ENGLISH- 

«- Relax. »

The moment his fingers touched your skin, your shoulders unclenched as if a weight or a burden had dropped off them. Your muscles were stretched to the limit; An underlying tension, no doubt, you were carrying the stress of a whole week on your frail shoulders. «- Y/N. » Just your first name, nothing else.

It was his way of asking you what was bothering you and you understood it. You were there, you had just come to his room, sitting on the sofa and there he is – as it has now became a habit – behind you, offering you a massage. Fairy fingers put pressure on your shoulders, fingers that could as well kill as take you to heaven. Never once you have felt afraid. His touch was comforting, familiar.

« -Don't worry. I just had a stressful day...The usual.  You melted under his touch. You felt his fingers tighten at your remark and you could make out his thought pattern. -No Killer, nobody bothered me. You won't have to kill anyone.  -I wasn't planning on killing anyone. You couldn't suppress a small laugh as you guessed his confusion. He was extremely protective of you, even if he hid it pretty well. Dear lord, just his presence was enough to put you in a better mood. -Yes, yes, of course. And what about the guy from last time ? » You reminded him of your last party, or rather, the party where you both had to babysit Kid once again. A man a little too drunk had taken advantage of the crowd to put an indiscreet hand on your lower back. Needless to say, Killer broke his arm without blinking – a reflex. To be fair, Kid would have reacted even worse, the redhead and you were like brother and sister.

His fingers reluctantly left your shoulders, he got closer to the large bookshelf, as big as one of the room's walls.

Killer was an avid reader, he had books from different origins. You were always in awe in front of his wide knowledge. When did he have all the time to read these books ? Certainly during nights of insomny. He came back and sat down next to you, in his hands, you recognized the book "A Thousand and One Nights", the cover was thick and decorated with a golden frame. You smile excitedly, you and Killer had this habit; whenever you felt bad or couldn't sleep, he would read you fairy tales. He had read dozens of them to you ; The Little Prince, Alice in Wonderland, the Tales of Hoffman. But your favorite was always “A Thousand and One Nights”. (Arabian Nights)  This book cristalised your love. Whenever you couldn't sleep, you would join the man in his room and he would tell you, like Scheherazade, the astonishing tales. Before you even knew it, you had fallen under his spell. He patted his knees and you rested your head just there. His voice carried you to the sands of the east. A voice extremely gentle, mesmerizing. This intimate moment was enough to eradicate all your worries. One hand was carrying the book, while the other stroked your hair and cheeks in turn. His voice told you about the adventures of Sindbad, the famous sailor from Bagdad.  He had bought this book from an old bookstore in Alabasta and it introduced him to the oriental beauty. When he finishes reading the tale you get up slightly and snuggle up in his arms. He circled your waist with his as you stayed there for a moment. -I love it when you tell me about the adventures of Sindbad. I feel like I'm seeing a side of you that no one else can access. -And that's true. You are the only one who wants to hear these stories. He strokes your hair. -All credit goes to you. You are an excellent storyteller. -And you are an excellent listener. » He smiled behind his mask, maybe if he took it off, you could've seen the rose-color that tinted his cheeks.

He appreciated how you cared about everything he said and everything he loved. You were the only person in the world he shared this with, who he could stand sharing all of this with. The stress of the day was now nothing but a vague memory. Only one thing was missing. You wanted to get closer. You wanted to look at him and kiss him. The adventures of Sindbad were not enough. « -I want to look at you...  » You breathe out, your voice was no more than a sigh, a slight whisper that made him smile behind his mask. Smile that you don't see but that you could imagine. You didn't have to see him, you just had to pay attention to his chest rising with the rhythm of his breathing. You now knew how to decipher every gesture and the slightest variation in his voice. But it didn't stop you from wanting to look at him. You knew each other more than anyone, but you always wanted more. You wanted him  entirely to yourself. You wanted him to lay bare his feelings just as you did, because he was your comfort zone and you wanted to be his. You sit, your slender fingers brushing against the hard surface of the mask. You feel his breathing stop. « -For me... » you add, insisting.

It wasn't the first time you'll see him without a mask, but could you be satisfied? He even kept it on in his sleep. Your fingers start caressing the golden locks. « For you. » He repeats, his voice was firm but penetrating. Coming from behind the mask, it was somewhat veiled. Someone else would never have guessed his hesitation but you? Easy task. You couldn't suppress a smile, one of a child that was promised a sugar cube. You were now sitting next to him on the sofa, wrists on your hips, catching your breath, eyelashes barely batting.

The mask was now resting on the armrest. Your eyes layed on his perfectly sculpted face and the purplish lips that you were dying to kiss. Did he hide his face, like Medusa hers, out of fear of petrifying you? «- Killer ... You are so...beautiful. » No need for words, a finger rested on your parted lips. Your gaze was enough, words were sometimes too overwhelming. His azure eyes shone behind a curtain of golden hair. You hesitate, a second then two, before coming to sit on his knees. He was surprised by this proximity but it didn't bother him since he put your hand on his chest. His skin was warm, his heart was beating considerably faster. He didn't say it, that gesture meant "I love you" and you knew it.  - Thank you for being there for me.  » Your face was inches from his. His lips barely caressed yours before kissing you fully as his hand rested on the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Once again, the gesture spoke better than the words. I love you. I want you. I want you to give me all your stress, all your pain, I want to carry it for you.

- (Y / N) ... A sigh ... I lo- Suddenly, the door thudded open. You didn't have to look back, you knew, both of  you knew who that was. -Killer! When are we gonna eat I'm sss---... Wait what, FUCK- - Can't you knock on the door for once? You grabbed a pillow and threw it at Kid, who was already turning around, embarrassed to have interrupted you. He disappeared as quickly as he had come, uttering a myriad of obscenities in his way. Killer buried his head in your neck, embarrassed to be found in this compromising situation, although it could have been way worse. You cursed Kid inside for interrupting you.

-Killer, what were you saying ? He puts his mask back on murmuring a « nothing »

-But I swear I heard you say it. You were going to say « I love you », right ? You teased

-If you heard it then why are you asking ? He was extremely thankful for wearing his mask at that moment.

-Because I want to hear it again ! -Too honest, you were too honest for his own good. -I love you. -W-wait I wasn't prepared ! You were now the one to blush. Killer wasn't the kind to express his feelings all the time and that openly, so it meant a lot to you.

« Cute » was all he thought of you in that moment. He got up holding you tight against his chest ;

-Well, I think that Kid is really going to throw a tantrum if he doesn't get to eat. You must be starving as well. Would you like to help me in the kitchen ?

-Of course I would. But first put me down. -I am scared that is out of the question. 

He simply answers as he proceeds to hold you over his shoulder, heading towards the kitchen. - French -

«- Détends-toi. »

A l'instant où ses doigts entrèrent en contact avec ta peau, tes épaules s'abaissèrent comme si un poids ou un fardeau en disparaissait. Tes muscles étaient tendus à l'extrême ; Une accumulation de tension sans doute, le stress de toute une semaine.

« - (T/P). »

Juste ton prénom et rien d'autre.

C'était sa manière de te demander ce qui te tracassait et tu le compris. Tu étais là, tu venais tout juste de rentrer dans sa chambre pour t'affaler sur le sofa et le voilà qui -comme à son habitude- t'offrait un massage. Il avait des doigts de fée, comment des doigts pouvaient-ils aussi bien tuer que t'emmener au paradis ? Tu n'avais jamais eu peur de lui. Son toucher était réconfortant et familier.

« -Ne t'en fais pas. C'était juste une journée stressante. »

Tu fondais sous son toucher, sa présence derrière toi était rassurante. Tu sentis ses doigts se crisper à ta remarque et tu pus deviner son schéma de pensée.

«- Non Killer, personne ne m'a embêtée. Tu ne devras tuer personne.

-Je ne comptais tuer personne.

Tu ne pus réprimer un petit rire en devinant son trouble. Il était extrêmement protecteur lorsqu'il s'agissait de toi, même s'il ne le montrait pas. Bon dieu, rien que sa présence était assez pour te mettre de bonne humeur.

-Mais oui, bien sûr. Et le type de l'autre fois, on en parle ? 

Tu ne manquas pas de lui rappeler votre dernière soirée ensemble, ou plutôt, une énième soirée où il fallait prendre soin de Kid. Un homme un peu trop alcoolisé avait profité de la foule pour poser une main indiscrète sur le bas de ton dos. Inutile de mentionner que Killer lui avait fracturé le bras sans ciller. Remarque, Kid aurait agit pire, le roux et toi étiez tout deux comme frère et sœur.

Ses doigts quittèrent tes épaules à contre cœur, tu le vis qui s'approchait de la grande bibliothèque qui occupait un des murs de la pièce. Killer aimait énormément lire, à vrai dire, il avait tellement de connaissances et il avait des livres de différentes origines. Tu étais toujours admirative devant son savoir.

Il revint et s'assit à côté de toi, entre ses mains, tu reconnus le livre « Mille et une nuit », la couverture était épaisse et ornementée d'un cadre doré. Tu souris avec excitation, Killer et toi aviez cette habitude ; à chaque fois que tu te sentais mal ou que tu n'arrivais pas à dormir, il te lisait des contes. Il t'en avait lu des dizaines maintenant ; Le petit Prince, Alice au pays des merveilles, les Contes d'Hoffman. Mais ton préféré restait toujours « Mille et une nuit ».

Ce livre représentait ton énamourement. A chaque fois que tu n'arrivais pas à dormir, tu rejoignais l'homme dans sa chambre et il te contait à la manière de Shéhérazade les contes étonnants. Avant même de t'en rendre compte, tu étais tombée sous son charme.

Il tapota ses genoux et tu posas ta tête là où il l'avait désigné. Sa voix te transportait vers les sables d'orient. Il y mettait tant de douceur. Ce moment intime était assez pour éradiquer tout tes ennuis. Sa main portait le livre, tandis que l'autre, caressait tour à tour tes cheveux et tes joues. Que tu étais chanceuse de l'avoir. Sa voix te racontait les aventures de Sindbad. Il avait acheté ce livre lors d'une escapade à Alabasta et était tombé sous le charme.

Lorsqu'il finit de lire le conte tu te relevas légèrement et tu te blottis dans ses bras. Il encercla ta taille des siens et vous restèrent un instant dans cette position.

-J'adore quand tu me racontes les aventures de Sindbad. J'ai l'impression d'accéder à un côté de toi que seul moi peut voir.

-Et c'est vrai. Tu es la seule qui veut entendre mes contes.

-C'est tout à ton honneur. Tu es un excellent conteur.

-Tu es une excellente audience. »

Il sourit derrière son masque et ne manqua pas d'en rougir. Il aimait comment tu t'intéressais à tout ce qu'il racontait et à tout ce qu'il aimait. Tu étais la seule personne au monde avec qui il partageait cela, avec qui il pouvait se permettre de partager cela. Le stress de la journée n'était plus qu'un vague souvenir. Une seule chose te manquait. Tu voulais plus de proximité. Tu voulais le voir et l'embrasser. Les aventures de Sindbad n'étaient pas assez.

«-Je veux te voir... »

Tu expires, ta voix n'était plus qu'un soupir, léger murmure qui le fit sourire derrière son masque. Sourire que tu ne vis pas mais que tu pus deviner. Tu n'avais plus à le voir, tu n'avais qu'à prêter attention à sa poitrine qui s'élevait au rythme de sa respiration. Tu savais maintenant déchiffrer chaque geste et la moindre variation de sa voix.

Tu le connaissais, vous vous connaissiez plus que personne mais tu en voulais toujours plus. Tu voulais qu'il s'offre entièrement à toi. Tu voulais qu'il mette à nu ses sentiments comme tu le faisais avec lui, parce qu'il était ta zone de confort et que tu voulais être la sienne.

Tu te redresses, tes doigts graciles viennent toucher du bout des doigts la surface dure du masque. Tu sens son souffle s'arrêter.

« Pour moi... » tu répètes, insistante. Ce n'était pas la première fois que tu le verras sans masque, mais pouvais-tu en être satisfaite ? Il le gardait même dans son sommeil. Tes doigts se perdent maintenant dans sa chevelure dorée.

« Pour toi. » Sa voix était ferme mais pénétrante. Venant de derrière le masque, elle était quelque peu voilée.

Une autre n'aurait pas pu deviner son trouble mais pour toi ? Tâche facile. Tu ne pus réprimer un sourire d'enfant auquel on promettait un morceau de sucre. Tu étais maintenant assise à côté de lui sur le sofa, les poignets sur tes hanches, le souffle coupé, les cils battant à peine.

Le masque reposait à présent sur l'accoudoir. Tu pus découvrir son visage parfaitement sculpté, ses lèvres violacées. Cachait-il son visage, comme Meduse ses yeux, de peur de te pétrifier ?

«- Killer...Tu es magnifique. »

Pas besoin de mots, un doigt vint se poser sur tes lèvres entrouvertes. Ton regard était assez, les mots parfois l'encombraient. Ses yeux azur brillaient derrière un rideau de cheveux dorés, ils étaient fuyants. Tu hésites, une seconde puis deux, avant de venir t'installer sur ses genoux. Il fut surpris par cette proximité mais elle ne le gêna pas puisqu'il vint poser ta main sur sa poitrine. Sa peau était brûlante, son cœur battait considérablement plus fort. Il ne le dit pas, ce geste signifiait « Je t'aime » et tu le savais.

«- Merci d'être là pour moi. »

Ton visage était à quelques centimètres du siens. Ses lèvres vinrent caresser les tiennes à peine, avant de t'embrasser pleinement tandis que sa main se posa sur sur ta nuque pour approfondir le baiser. Encore une fois, le geste parlait mieux que les mots. Je t'aime. Je te veux. Je veux que tu me donnes tout ton stress, toute ta peine, je veux la porter pour toi.

-(Y/N)...Un soupir...Je t'ai-

Soudain, la porte s'ouvrit en un fracas. Tu n'eus pas besoin de te retourner, tu savais, vous saviez de qui il s'agissait.

-Killer ! C'est quand qu'on mange je meu--...PUTAIN mais...

-Tu peux pas frapper à la porte pour une fois ?

Tu attrapas un coussin et tu le lanças en la direction de Kid qui se retournait déjà, gêné de vous avoir interrompu. Il disparut aussi rapidement qu'il n'était venu en prononçant une myriade d’obscénités.

Killer enfonça sa tête dans ton cou, gêné d'être découvert dans cette situation compromettante, quoique ça aurait pu être pire.

-Tu disais quoi, chéri ?

Il remit son masque tout en murmurant un « rien du tout ». 

-Mais je jure que je t'ai entendu le dire ! Tu allais dire « Je t'aime », n'est-ce pas ? Tu le taquinais un peu trop pour son bien être.

-Si tu m'avais entendu, alors pourquoi demandes-tu ?

Il était extrêmement heureux d'avoir son masque sur le visage à cet instant précis. 

-Parce que je veux l'entendre à nouveau. Si honnête, un peu trop pour son bien. 

-Je t'aime. 

 -Qu-quoi ? Je n'étais pas préparée à ça ! Tu étais maintenant celle qui rougissait. Killer n'était pas du genre à exprimer ses sentiments tout le temps et ouvertement alors ça signifiait énormément à tes yeux. 

« Trop mignonne. » C'était ce qu'il pensait de toi en ce moment. Il s'est levé tout en te gardant contre sa poitrine. 

-Bon, je pense que Kid va vraiment causer un désastre s'il n'a pas à manger. Tu dois mourir de faim également. Tu ne voudrais pas me donner un coup de main en cuisine ?

 -Bien sûr que oui. Mais tout d'abord...Est-ce que tu pourrais me poser à terre ? 

 -ça c'est hors de question. Il répondit simplement tout en te mettant sur son épaule et en se dirigeant vers la cuisine.

[carolmaximoffs]

teacher’s pet

summary: ransom gets a tutor per his parents meddling, lest his family pull all financial support. 

pairings: college! ransom drysdale x virgin! reader

warnings: cussing, dirty talk, sort-of public sex (fingering... in a library...i’m sorry), reference to drinking, brief brief mention of hookup! (not w reader), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving) uhh it’s filth alright it’s innocent reader and ransom drysdale what did you expect

UNPROTECTED SEX BUT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO PLEASE WRAP IT UP

a/n: per request by someone who’s no longer on tumblr, but i wanted to finish SOMETHING in my drafts. (i started this in...gosh, august? it’s way overdue)

You’ve got to be kidding me, is the first thought to bounce across Ransom’s brain when he walks into the library that evening in January. It’s practically deserted, except for one occupant of a back table. You’re huddled over laptop, doesn’t even notice him walk in. He studies you from the doorway for a moment.

His second thought is, she’s kind of cute. He pushes that far, far away and all but stomps over to the table. You look up with a start when he clears his throat, sliding out the chair across from you and dropping his bag unceremoniously onto the table.

“Lets get this straight,” Ransom declares, folding his hands together into one fist and tucking them under his chin. It’s a move his mother had pulled in many ‘I’m-not-trying-to-control-your-life-but’ conversations. She usually paired it with an exasperated and slightly pouty look meant to guilt him into seeing things her way. He pairs it with a glower. “I don’t need a tutor, I don’t want a tutor, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to be taking this fuckin’ course. However slash comma, I need this course, so I can get the degree, build some shit from the ground up like everybody else, blah, blah, blah. So. Let’s get started.”

The girl across from him just blinks for a second. Maybe he did come off a little harsh, but he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You blink for a little longer, like you’re confused. Ransom is just about to ask if you’re deaf when you speak up. “O-okay. Right. So, I spoke to your mother-“

“Fucking fantastic.” You glare.

“I talked to your mother and she-“

“Wait a sec,” Ransom interjects for a second time. Your eyes get wide, like you’re about to lunge across the table and strangle him. “What’s your name, sugar-tits?”

You pull a face at him, somewhere between murderous and disgusted. “Y/N. Can you please stop interrupting me?”

Ransom only smiles, and you continue. His mother had emailed you in depth, evidently. Told you all about how he failed last semester, desperately needs the credit, et cetera, et cetera. Great. It sounds almost rehearsed, though, not as nervous nor hesitant as everything you say after. He gets the feeling you don’t quite know what to make of him, yet, and he intends to keep it that way.

—————————

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Ransom sweeps his arm out wildly; he hears the thunk of his water bottle and the rattle of the aspirin bottle he’d preemptively put out as they hit the floor.

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Finally, he manages to grasp his phone, the source of the wretched noise. Christ, his head is pounding, but he swipes to answer the call without even looking. He blinks through his migraine in the gold evening light as he croaks out a hello.

“Where the fuck are you, Hugh?”

He looks at the clock - right, right. Ransom forces a laugh through his dry throat. You’re pissed, and rightfully so. “Ransom, please, princess-“

“Don’t ‘princess’ me, prick. This is the third time this week. I’ve been at the library for thirty fucking minutes!” You hate him, hate him, hate him, but it’s been a handful of weeks now, and you know he’s positively beaming on the other end of the line. “I talked to Marcus-“

“Sweetheart,” He tries again, reaching for his water,  “Marcus? C’mon, what’d I say about talking to my friends-“

“And what did I say about getting drunk off your ass the night before we’re ‘sposed to meet up? Ransom,” And you’re so angry your voice shakes and blurs with it, with the disappointment, and oh, that shouldn’t make him stir. “Seriously. Get your ass down here. I’m not letting Linda fucking Drysdale down.”

Ah yes, Little Miss Perfect, Future Miss CEO who idolizes his mother. There’s a little click as you hang up, and Ransom chuckles to himself as he takes a swig of water. He’s really considering meeting you, too; he’s just about to slither out of bed, throw on some clothes, grab his textbook. Then his latest conquest sits up beside him and stretches tanned arms, shaking long curls from her shoulders.

“Hope that wasn’t your girlfriend. I was really hoping for a round 3.”

And hell, who is he to deny a lady? (An asshole, and a liar, and an unreliable piece of expletive along with a few other colorful insults, according to the myriad of texts from Y/N. He puts his phone on silent.)

—————————

“I’m not shocked you failed this chapter twice in a row,” Your murmur as you trace your finger under the header “Strategic Differentiation is Key: Listening to and Working with Others”. It’s late spring, the library a little more crowded as more students brave the trek across campus. He sits beside you, instead of across from you, now, thigh to thigh. “You only talk to people if it benefits you. Actually, strategic differentiation is beneficial, so I guess I am a little shocked.”

“I never wanted to be a businessman,” Ransom shrugs, leaning his chair back on two legs. Your brows furrow, and you set your pen down hesitantly, like you know they’re broaching a tedious moment. The sort of thing that doesn’t occur often - Hugh Ransom Drysdale, being vulnerable. You’re quiet, though, and he finds himself continuing.

“I wanted to be a writer like my grandpa,” He admits softly, and he doesn’t know what’s made him say it - did he hit his head in his sleep last night? - but it’s out there. It hangs between them heavily. Your fingers curl around the edges of the textbook they’re sharing.

“I...That’s really sweet, Ransom,” You murmur finally in that stupid, adorable, fucking annoyingly soft way of yours. “Really sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ransom scoffs. He shrugs it off, like everything else, shifting and slinging an arm over the back of your chair. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“I-What?”

“You heard me. I told you something, you tell me something. Call it leveling the playing field. An eye for an eye.”

“‘An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’,” You mutter uncertainly. You remain silent for a beat too long afterwards. Ransom leans his weight on his forearms on the table, ducking his head to speak in your ear.

“C’mon, what are you? A virgin?” He laughs at his own clever jab, but when he sits up, you still aren’t answering, face mortified. Ransom gasps exaggeratedly, grinning wickedly at his own fortune. “You are. Holy fuck. You’re a goddamn virgin.”

“Not so loud!” You hiss, slapping at his arm. You want to puke right into his stupid lap. Not that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, but hearing him say it like that... Damn him, you think, and then you huff, “Damn you.”

“Aw it’s okay, princess,” Ransom coos, and he’s mocking you, you know he’s mocking you, but something sparks in your stomach. He pinches your cheek in the way old ladies do to small children. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Not like you’re a junior in college and perfectly pretty enough to find yourself a hookup. What’s the hold-up, sugar?”

She presses her thighs together. Ransom pretends not to notice, still intent on an answer. Consumed with a combination of embarrassment and need (though mostly the former), she shrugs. “Just...waiting for the right guy, I guess.”

Ransom snorts, as if to tell her “that’s a waste of time”, or maybe because they both know it’s bullshit. But he utters nothing more on the subject, and instead picks up his pen. 

“So, I think this is what tripped me up here...” 

She can’t focus on his question. His free hand is tracing funny little patterns on her knee. 

—————————

“Ransom....” 

“Shhh,” He huddles closer to her, hushing her wary pleas. They’re at a different table, today, further in the back. He’s got a hand slipping up beneath her skirt. “Just trust me, princess. Keep on teaching me, while I teach you.”

And she does; her voice trembles, be it with nerves or need, as he dips his fingers beneath her panties. Ransom traces over her clit, teasingly, just to hear her stumble over the sentence she’s trying to explain to him. Fuck Management Skills - he was managing just fine, if he did say so himself. He prods at her entrance, gathering her slick on his finger tips, before sliding one slick digit in to the hilt. She makes a sound somewhere between gasping and choking. Ransom grins uncontrollably, ducking his head into her neck.

“So wet for me already, princess,” He whispers, a second finger joining the first. She bites her lip as he teases a third, so soon. “Come on. Focus.”

“Ransom, I can’t,” She half-whines, pages crinkling as she grips the textbook desperately. She squirms, but he’s unrelenting. “Please, we’re gonna get caught...”

“Not if you stay quiet,” Ransom replies gruffly. He experiments, just a little; they’d been making out before, after, during their sessions for a couple of weeks now. Each time, he grew bolder. Ransom hooks his fingers one instance - pumps them rapidly the next. When she’s come apart all over his hand, receiving a pinch to her oversensitive clit just to see her flinch, your lip is bleeding from biting so hard.

Ransom hasn’t learned shit about delegation, but he knows now how to make her cum.

_______________________

You’ve never been to Ransom’s before; of course, he’d swung a small apartment just on the edge of campus. Your skin trembles even as you try to steel yourself. You know Ransom hadn’t asked to relocate your tutoring session because he was tired. The two of you had practically finished the course, anyway, and he really was grasping it without your guidance at this point. You weren’t naïve; he wanted privacy.

Your suspicions are proved right as soon as you step inside. The moment you’ve toed off your shoes, he’s sweeping you into a heavy kiss, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses into your throat; just pressure, nothing serious, but you still squeak. Ransom all but growls, free arm hooking about your hips.

“Jump, honey,” He says into your mouth, and you do, legs tight about his waist. He carries you through the apartment without a hitch; you knew there was some beef hiding beneath all those damn sweaters. You’re dropped a little carelessly onto what is unmistakably his bed; of course the bastard’s got silk sheets. Ransom tosses his shirt somewhere behind him, sliding cold fingers beneath your shirt. “This alright?”

And you half think it’s sweet of him to ask, but you also know his mother, and would frankly be surprised if he didn’t ask. Embarrassment and, honestly  dignity out the window, you arch into his touch. “Please.” 

Ransom makes quick work of your pants and undergarments; he’s still clad in sweatpants that probably cost more than you want to imagine as you lay naked before him. He looks more like a predator than ever, expression absolutely ravenous as he levels his face with your dripping center.

“Oh, I’ve never-” You stutter, face burning as he looks up at you as if bored with your voice. When Ransom speaks next, his breath has goosebumps crackling down your thighs.

“I know, baby. Just let me take care of you, hmm?” And all you’re capable of is a rigid nod before you’re throwing your head back as his tongue traces figure eights on your clit. 

“Fuck!” You cry, and he hums something akin to a laugh into your core. His thumbs spread you open further as his tongue laps at your impossibly wet entrance; when he sucks at your clit, you almost scream. Ransom, still teaching himself your ins and outs, reaches up to tweak a nipple, and you thrash. That’s when he sits up.

“Was so...close...” You pant, bringing your chin to your chest with more effort than should be necessary. His weight has left the bed; he’d stood to rid himself of his pants, unsurprisingly having gone commando. You’re gifted with the glorious sight of his impossibly thick thighs as Ransom smirks, pumping his thick, leaking member lazily.

“When you cum today, baby, it’ll be on my cock,” The blond promises darkly as he clambers back onto the bed. His bulbous tip slides up and down between your glistening folds, and he groans, basking and unashamed in his own arousal. “And only...gah, fuck....only on my cock.”

You whimper in response as he pushes right in to the hilt. He wiggles his hips, swivels a bit; you’re unsure of whether it’s to fuck with you or make sure he’s snug within your throbbing heat, but you moan none the less. Ransom takes this as the okay to begin thrusting, and any discomfort quickly dissipates as he thumbs at your clit in tight circles. For the first time since you’d met him, there’s not an ounce of snark or irritation; he swings a knee over one arm, managing to angle up against your sweet spot each time, and your hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders. 

“Ransom...fuck, Ransom, please, I-” You whine as he pushes your knee toward your chest, pounding you ever harder in juxtaposition with his soft shushing.

“I know, princess, I got you,” Ransom grunts, forehead sweat-slick as he presses his face into your neck. He nips, just barely, breath coming hard and heavy. “Just let go, baby, right there with you, c’mon...” 

With a cry that has Ransom clapping a hand over your lips, you cum, legs practically vibrating as you thrash with the force of it. Ransom’s hand doesn’t leave your clit until you’re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation; just like he’d promised, moments after your own orgasm, he slips out of your channel. You can’t truly identify the feeling swirling in your gut as he spills his seed across your torso, nor as he trails two fingers through it and brings it to your lips.

“Hey,” Ransom heaves after a heavy silence, the both of you still naked with his fingers still being laved by your tongue. “Did I ever tell you about my A in Management? Grade went up like, two weeks ago. I told you that, right?”

You bite down on his fingers in reply.

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Guess I Misunderstood

Part 2 of Not the One series. 

Summary: Kurt's trying a find a way to end things with Adam and Blaine Anderson is one of the reasons why. 

Notes:  Open for more prompts in this 'verse but I only intended it to be 2 parts of a two-sided story. I hope you enjoy.

Read Part 1 here

AO3

The first time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson, he was spying on the bulletin boards. He, like every other Apple, was worried about how many freshmen they could pull this semester. With a majority of the current Adam’s Apples being seniors, they needed to fill those spots with freshmen. Better to round them up this year so they’ll already have a year of acapella under their belts.

He's just standing there reading all the flyers. Kurt’s trying to look busy with his phone to not draw attention. But he can’t help but access this man. 

Firstly, Kurt doesn't recognize him so he assumes this is a freshman, exactly the demographic their flyers are trying to bring in. The second thing that makes this man stand out among the others Kurt’s observed thus far is how nicely dressed he is. It is the first day of school so one would think a little effort would be put in but some boys their age won’t even put on a stain-free shirt to come to school. Luckily, most NYADA students care about their appearances, this freshman is no exception. 

He’s wearing tightly fitted, dark green, capri pants and a crisp, white, collared polo. 

Then his hand is reaching up to the green flyer Kurt designed. 

He takes it. 

YES!

Kurt tries to collect himself when he walks over to the boards. Don’t scare him away is his new mantra.

“The Apples?” He asks. 

The freshman was shy at first probably because he didn’t expect to be approached. Before he answers Kurt, he does manage to meet his eyes. 

Well, Kurt thought, if he sings as well as he looks the Apples could make Nationals. 

In the past, Kurt would’ve berated himself for checking out guys while being in a relationship but he’s becoming less sure about Adam lately. His boyfriend is becoming a bit pushy about things like this. But Kurt isn’t about to stop doing it. If Adam really trusted him, he could see all of this was harmless. 

The guy was gorgeous, no one should really blame Kurt for staring. His bowtie added a dash of adorableness, which would only draw Kurt in closer if he was single. Which he is decidedly not. 

“I love to sing.” 

Kurt could certainly relate. That’s how he got involved with glee clubs in the first place. Hell, that’s what got him to New York. 

“Me too,” he said, “I’ll see you at auditions, break a leg.” 

Only while he was walking away did Kurt curse himself for not catching the man’s name. 

Before he knew it, they reached the point in the school year—day two—where Rachel was would start harassing him about “getting his name out there” and listing off all the auditions she had lined up. The only way Kurt could hear another word of this was over coffee so he dragged Rachel there before his class. This meant she had exactly 35 minutes to talk at him about it until he inevitably came home for the night and had to share the loft with her. Halfway through the conversation, he notices a finely dressed young man in line.

 He’s not ashamed to admit the man’s best asset drew his attention. Though it wasn’t a difficult feat considering Power-Hungry Rachel was his other option. 

Thankfully, her time was running out, “Rach, I’ll see you at home, I have Tibideaux.” 

With one last look at the man, Kurt rushes off to class. 

When Adam’s Apples auditions are up and running, Kurt is fuming. His boyfriend thought the perfect time to discuss their future as a couple was directly before they had to sit on their asses for 3 hours listening to a bunch of freshmen sing their hearts out. 

Of course, they fought over it. Kurt was pissed about the timing, Adam thought he was being careless about their future plans because he refused to talk about it. 

“I’m refusing to do it publicly when we have obligations!” Kurt had told him. 

He had stormed into the empty auditorium at that point, casting aside Adam’s idea to move away after graduation for the moment, and sat in the third row. Unable to take a hint, Adam sat beside him. 

Kurt was barely able to pay attention to the singers until Blaine. Once again, the man was pleasantly dressed. This time in bright yellow capris and a lovely yellow and blue bowtie. Kurt wondered if he had an affinity for them. 

Adam coughed next to him, Kurt reverted his eyes. For the rest of the song, he was trying not to stare because Adam didn’t need another reason to blame Kurt for their relationship problems. When Blaine was finished, they clapped, Adam leaned in, “I’m sorry, you’re right.” In reply, Kurt kissed his cheek. 

Knowing a simple kiss could smooth things over for now. They obviously had a lot to discuss. 

As school picked up, Kurt mostly forgot about his little soft spot for Blaine until he was pulling a tipsy Adam off of the Lion’s Den dance floor Saturday night. 

They knew their potential new recruits would be at Callbacks, Kurt wanted none of that. If they were going to celebrate the first week of classes as a couple, he wasn’t about to be interrupted by a drunk NYADA student begging to know how their glee audition went. So he was here and apparently so was Blaine. 

He almost turned right around wanting to ignore the man. This is the exact situation he was trying to avoid. But Adam pulled him forward, slurring “bar’s this way.” 

Kurt tried to catch his eye from across the bar but instead watched as Blaine slung his drink back and paid his tab. By the time Adam was finished ordering, Blaine was gone. 

The fourth time Kurt thought he’d see Blaine never came. 

Kurt had posted the Adam’s Apples list of new recruits himself. Blaine Anderson was at the top. Alphabetically speaking. Yet, he never showed up to their first rehearsal. Everyone else had come. It was difficult to listen to Adam’s introductory speech when he kept waiting for Blaine to walk through the auditorium doors. 

He never did. Did Tuesdays at 7 not work for his schedule? 

They sat in a circle on stage playing ice breakers, learning each other’s names and special interests in regards to their studies at NYADA. 

When rehearsal ends, Adam tapped his shoulder, “you seem distracted, what’s up?” 

Kurt remembers what Drunk Adam told him on Saturday and lies, “nothing, I’m fine. Just something Rachel said.” 

“Well,” Adam helped him up, “don’t worry too much about her. Before you know it, you and I will be taking on the West End.” 

He smiles until Adam turns away. 

When Adam had first said they should move, Kurt thought he meant out of the heart of the city. Which was something he could understand. If Kurt’s dreams of starting a family someday were to be met, he saw the appeal of a move. It never crossed his mind that Adam meant to move across the ocean. 

When they first started talking, Kurt loved the allure of an older man. Being a freshman at the time, Kurt had been desperate to fit in in ways he never could at McKinley. So when Adam took him under his wing, showed him the ropes of NYADA and New York, it was only a matter of time before Kurt had a crush on him. Initially, Adam was too busy for a relationship, he had told Kurt as much so Kurt keep the crush to himself...and Rachel. 

When NYADA’s spring formal rolled around, Kurt was already planning on going with his roommate. Rachel had been trying him to match in a terrible shade of pink. It didn’t go well with either of their complexions. The text came in mid-argument about their outfits.

Adam: wanna go to formal?

Kurt dropped his phone. Luckily, he was sitting on the couch and it fell onto the cushion. Rachel, of course, knew something was wrong because Kurt paused in the middle of yelling at her about the tackiness of matching when they could complement each other instead. 

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning in to glance at his phone, “it’s not your dad, right?” 

“No, no, no,” Kurt assured her, tilting his screen so she could read the message. 

“OH!” she squealed, jumping up. “Tell him yes!” 

“He probably isn’t asking me, just wants to know if I’ll be there.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “don’t stupid, Kurt.” 

Ignoring her, Kurt texted back and slumped down. 

Kurt: Rachel and I are going to go together, yes

Instantly, another text came in. 

Adam: Would Rachel be upset if I took you instead?

Rachel was biting her lip excitedly. Practically dancing as she sat on the couch next to him. 

Kurt: I think she’d be delighted. As would I.

The two of them did some jumping up and down together before Kurt settled back onto the couch, holding his phone to his chest. 

 “Guess that means I can wear pink if I want to,” Rachel said before disappearing into her bedroom. 

But that was then. It had been a long time since Kurt felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought about Adam. He never thought they’d completely disappear but these last few months he felt stagnant. When he expressed these concerns to his boyfriend, Adam’s solution was, once again, to move across the pond. 

Like that would solve their issues. 

That wasn’t what Kurt had meant by stagnant but Adam kept going on and on about how New York may be the city that never sleeps but he couldn’t wait to get back to the excitement of London. 

Kurt could never see himself moving so far away from his dad or his friends. New York had become his home these last three years. Maybe Adam always dreamed of going back to the UK but he had never told Kurt that explicitly until the start of this semester. Dating for 2 years and it never came up. 

By the time they were having their fifth fight about this, Kurt knew they were going to have to break up. It was just a matter of when. 

The actual fourth time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was two weeks before Thanksgiving break. 

He was sitting in a corner of the library. Sheets of music spread across his lap. Titling his head so a single black curl dangled in his face. Blaine keeps blowing the curl away to no avail. It took everything in Kurt to not laugh. 

Adorable. 

Kurt wasn’t really here to study. He finished up his assignments for the weekend. There was a major test next week for one of Rachel’s classes. She was in a study group and forgot her yellow notebook so Kurt offered to bring it to her. 

Wasn’t it just his luck that Blaine Anderson was here? Right in his line of sight. The universe must be having fun with him tonight. He was about to go home to an empty apartment and write a breakup speech for Adam. 

Kurt had plans to talk with his day over Thanksgiving break—Burt insisted on planning for his flight. He just needed someone, not Rachel, to tell him it was the right choice. For so long, Adam, being his first boyfriend, made Kurt feel like he owed it to Adam to continue this. Kurt had just reached the end of his rope. 

He did end up talking to his dad about everything other than the impending breakup. In fact, Kurt couldn’t seem to get Blaine’s name out of his mouth. 

“We had this really talented singer come in for auditions, dad,” Kurt said. “Blaine Anderson, he’s a freshman.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

This was the second time Kurt had brought this up. 

“He’s going to do big things someday.” 

By the fourth time, Blaine’s name was mentioned, which was a lot of times for a man Kurt had only spoken to once, Burt had something to say about it. 

“You gonna ask him out, bud, or just keep talking to me?”

Kurt paused, blushed, and stumbled out a “no.” 

“No what? You won’t ask him or he won’t go out with you.” 

“Dad,” Kurt said, “both of those imply, I do ask him out.” 

“Well, you should.” Burt shrugged. “You clearly like him.” 

His dad did always know how to read him. This wasn’t the time to remind Burt of his boyfriend. Of whom, Burt was indifferent. Dating for years and Adam couldn’t seem to break down Burt’s overprotective walls. 

Now that Kurt was alone in their apartment thinking of those conversations. All of them. Every single time he had asked Burt about Adam or called his dad after a ridiculous fight. How many of those conversations contain happy stories? 

Kurt and Adam had loads of good times but none that he ever shared with his dad, no memories that become inside jokes, nothing like that. 

It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, Rachel was in class, Adam’s professor had let them out earlier, and Kurt had an empty apartment. 

Kurt: let’s get coffee

Adam: Be there in ten

When Kurt came back, he was a single man in New York once again. 

The fifth time, Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was on purpose. He meant to run into him in the NYADA auditorium. Kurt had asked around and found out Blaine had joined a different glee club. Amy said they rehearsed on Wednesdays and Blaine was always there a half-hour earlier to warm-up alone. 

Sure enough, Blaine was center stage pacing in a circle doing one of Rachel’s favorite scales. Kurt is creeping in from one of the back entrances. Slowly, he makes his way up to the stage unsure if he wants Blaine to notice him or not. 

Eventually, he reaches a moment when he has to say something. About fifteen feet from the stage, Kurt speaks up, “you’re very talented, you know?” 

Blaine looks down at him, a quick smile, and blushes, “thanks.” 

“We were sad to not see you at rehearsals but The Singsations benefit greatly.” 

“Yeah, I felt bad about it…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but it just wasn’t going to work.” 

“Well,” Kurt replied, “acapella isn’t for everyone.” 

“Funny enough, it wasn’t the acapella part.” 

At that, Kurt’s not sure what to say. He wants to ask what the problem was then.

“Sorry, did you just come here to ask why I didn’t join the Apples?” Blaine asked. 

“Um no, Amy said you warm up here before rehearsals.” Which was Kurt’s way of stalling. “I…”

This is exactly why Kurt hadn’t had a boyfriend before Adam: he was too nervous to make the first move. 

Blaine is sitting on the edge of the stage now so they’re almost level. Kurt could just push his legs apart, stand between them, and kiss him. That’s all he wants to do. 

“I’ve seen you around campus a lot.” Four times.

“Me too,” Blaine said, which has Kurt smirking slightly. So he did notice him too. Then Blaine continues and knocks that smirk right off his face, “how’s your boyfriend?” 

Well, Kurt should’ve expected that blow. His and Adam’s relationship was pretty well-known. In just two weeks since the breakup, Kurt’s surprised more people aren’t gossiping about it. 

Honesty is the best policy, right? 

“We broke up.”

“Oh,” Blaine replied, “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Are you?” Kurt asked, “because I’m not sorry at all. I should’ve done it sooner. We weren’t meant to be together as long as we were.” 

“You broke up with him?” Blaine asked, confused. “But you seemed so in love.” 

“A year ago, I would’ve agreed with you but one too many problems later it was never going to work,” Kurt told him, “but that’s not why I’m here either.” 

“So, why are you here? I was pretty sure you didn’t know I existed.” 

“I definitely do,” Kurt said, “and now it’s my turn to ask if you’re single.” 

Blaine blushed again, “Not sure that’s what I meant earlier.” 

“It’s what I meant.” 

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, I’ve been pining after this upperclassman who was with someone.” 

“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked. 

“Yeah.” 

Kurt took a step closer and placed his palms on Blaine’s knees. 

“Well, I think he likes you too.” 

Then, he pushes his legs open with no resistance from Blaine. It isn’t Kurt who leans in first though. 

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Seventeen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Exams, pizza, board games... what more could a girl ask for?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

 “That was a lot of chess,” Emily complained, nearly chugging her latte as she and Spencer left the coffee shop. 

She pulled her beanie onto her head and braced herself for the snow as the taller boy held the door open for her. Emily almost slipped on the slushy tile floor on her way out but managed to keep her balance. 

“Fifteen of the multiple-choice questions to be precise,” Spencer replied. The salted sidewalk crunched under their feet as they made their way across campus. 

“I’m so glad it’s finally over,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had enough philosophy to last me a lifetime.” 

“I’m enrolled in ‘Minds and Machines’ next semester,” he said. “I think I might try and get a double minor this time around.”

“What’s the goal? Three PhDs by the time you’re 24?” Emily quipped. 

He was well on his way, having completed his engineering degree before she managed to graduate high school. He was 17, only two years younger than her, but somehow seemed like a kid. A kid with more education crammed into his brain than she could ever master in her life.

“Something like that,” he replied with a smile. His hair was getting long and he had tied it back during the exam. With last names starting with P and R, they were seated near each other in the large exam hall, and she glanced over at him as he fussed with his hair. 

They stopped at the red light, watching as the cars and busses wooshed past them, sending the slush flying into the snowbanks. It had been a fairly sunny day, but bitterly cold. Now, the sun was setting and the campus was bathed in a warm golden glow. The snow had fallen the night before, leaving fluffy white snow covering their campus. 

Emily had spent most of the day holed up in the library with Spencer, with him quizzing her on fallacies and philosophers. With his eidetic memory, he only really needed to read the material once. Earlier in the semester, she did feel useful when it came to editing each other’s essays. He always got bogged down with detail, word vomiting everything he knew, and she helped him with his structure and argumentation. 

More studying awaited her back in her room. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she thought about the upcoming evening spent hunched over her desk studying criminal justice, a subject that left her questioning her degree half the time as she was forced to learn about the muddled ethics of justice. 

That week, she had survived on minimal sleep, eating mostly bagels and coffee to sustain her. Her body was protesting with each step, and she had suffered from a constant tension headache for as long as she remembered. At least her college had that golden retriever walk around at the library yesterday, she thought to herself, sarcastically. Animal therapy definitely relieved all her stress. As if petting a dog for five minutes would fix the anxiety of finals season. 

Two more exams, she reminded herself. You’ll make it. 

Despite this mantra, Emily was conflicted. While finals were killing her, the end of the semester also meant winter break. Emily would be forced to go “home” for the holidays. For most college students, that meant going back to their respective towns and being surrounded by their loved ones. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t have anywhere she called home. Last winter break, her mom had at least been in DC, and Emily was able to catch up with some of her international school friends who were in the city. This time, her mom was stationed in London, and Emily knew she’d be roped back into her old life. She didn’t know anyone there and knew most of her break would be spent alone. 

The last place she had called home was Rome, and now that was tarnished by her complicated past with that city. 

Emily was good at being alone. Being an only child of a workaholic single mom meant she learned to keep her own company. She read a lot. She got good at running away, escaping her nannies, and skirting security in order to roam free. She’d be fine. 

The problem was that Emily had gotten used to this. She rarely spent a moment alone these days. Whether it was walking to class with Spencer, or Hotch, or Derek, getting lunch with the team, surprise coffee dates with Penelope and spending almost every evening with her girlfriend, she hadn’t been left alone in ages. She didn’t miss it. 

Their residence building had a warm yellow light shining out of the windows and a soft red brick facade. In the summer, ivy grew up the south facing side but in the winter, the ledges were covered in snow and the stone steps were slippery. She trudged forward, excited for the warm embrace of the dorm. 

Spencer had other plans. He reached into the garish yellow plastic newspaper box that was stationed next to their doorway and retrieved this week’s newspaper. 

“Come on Reid,” Emily said. “Just subscribe to the newsletter or something like the rest of us.”

He held up the cover to her in surprise. Usually it reported the news of a recent sports victory, or a change of policy announced by the administrators, or even a fun event held on campus. Sometimes there was even a dramatic protest or an important speaker coming to campus. But this week, the headline surprised her. In large font printed across the page read: “Multiple student politicians fired amid financial scandal.” 

“That sounds bad,” Emily said. It did seem way more dramatic on newsprint than on a website, so maybe Spencer was onto something with his affinity for the printed word. 

Grabbing a copy for herself, she then walked inside to escape the cold. Warm air greeted them as they entered their residence hall, and both students kicked the snow off their boots before trudging up the stairs. They read as they walked, but the route to their rooms was already muscle memory, so neither worried about stumbling on their way. 

Normally, Emily wouldn’t willingly touch this sort of student politics with a ten foot pole. Sure, she was involved with the Criminology council, but there was a difference between the kind of person interested in petitioning for better accessibility to faculty events or running a bake sale, and the kind of students to embezzle thousands of student dollars like what the current student government executive seemed to be accused of doing. 

She quickly ran her eyes down the page, the contents jogging a memory from Halloween, of Hotch and JJ discussing the early stirrings of said scandal. 

“You know,” Spencer said, “I’m surprised they got a lot of this information, it’s notoriously difficult to file FOIAs for student governments, as they’re technically private corporations. So the fact that they got these files means that this is a much bigger scandal than one might assume.”

Corruption, bribery, embezzlement, nepotism. All words that jogged memories of hiding in the corner of political fundraisers, overhearing the worst of politics from too-drunk elites sipping on their wine and munching on charcuterie. 

“I hate politics,” Emily said, stuffing her copy of the paper into her bag. 

“I find it interesting. It’s basically a microcosm of our current political climate. In fact, I have subscribed to the print edition of fifteen student papers in the region,” Spencer said, “I like to keep informed on the coverage of student issues, and compare them to our own.”

“Why?!” Emily said with a laugh. “You know you can just look them up online.”

Spencer gave her a withering look, and she should have known better than asking about his aversion to tech. He loathed having to use his computer, as the LCD screens apparently gave him a headache. Penelope even gave him a pair of blue light glasses to attempt to alleviate the issue.

Then, he began to speak, at length, about the dying printed news industry and why print copies were better for understanding than screens et cetera. She made sure to nod and hum at appropriate points, but her mind kept wandering. 

She wondered if her girlfriend was in her room. Emily missed her any time they were apart and she yearned to hold her in her arms once again. But she shouldn’t. She needed to work. She had too much to do. Her grades had slipped, slightly, this semester. Everyone warned her about how college would be harder than high school, but no one ever warned her how much the expectations were raised in second year. 

Two more exams. She clutched her coffee tighter. She’d rather do anything else besides study at this point. Her body was exhausted, her mind frazzled. She wondered if she could even manage to get through a chapter of revision before conking out on her desk. 

As she said goodbye to Spencer and struggled with her keys that were tangled up in their corresponding university-branded lanyard, JJ’s door opened.  

“Hey girlfriend,” JJ greeted her, sounding way too much like a straight girl greeting her platonic friend for Emily’s taste. She gave her a pass because it sounded cute in her voice. 

“JJ!” Emily said, somehow surprised to see her despite the fact that she lived right across the hall. Her girlfriend was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, with her straight hair tucked behind her ears and her face bare of make up. Her face was lit up with a smile, and Emily rushed towards her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Hi JJ,” Spencer said as Emily and JJ kissed. 

When they pulled apart, JJ gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and asked them how their exam went. 

Spencer babbled about their Logic exams for a minute or two, as Emily basked in JJ’s presence. She grabbed onto her hand and found that it was so much hotter than her own and wasn’t sure if she held on tight because she was cold, or if she had missed her girlfriend. 

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Emily said. “I never want to hear about fallacies again.”

Spencer seemed to want to say something, but fell silent at Emily’s tired expression. 

“Wanna come in for a bit?” JJ whispered in Emily’s ear. Apparently she said so a touch too loud because Spencer replied instead. 

“Sure!” he said, and then walked into JJ and Penelope’s room. 

“I should really study,” Emily tried to argue, but a single glance into JJ’s deep, blue eyes had Emily melting. 

JJ’s room was much messier than Emily had last seen it. Both desks showed clear markers of the ongoing exams, with papers and books piled high. In addition to this was an assortment of pillows strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are back early!” JJ said, after checking her watch, “I thought it was a two hour exam?”

“I finished in an hour,” Spencer said, “and Emily only needed an extra half hour on top of my time.”

Damn straight, Emily thought, feeling somewhat competitive with the boy-genius despite herself. 

She really should study, but the prospect of seeing her girlfriend outweighed the desire to sit hunched over a textbook for another evening. 

Emily and Spencer kicked off their boots, placing them neatly on the mat by the door before peeling their jackets off and hanging them on the back of her door. Emily wasn’t sure if she liked winter. Whenever her mother was stationed in the Middle East she yearned for snow, but now that she was experiencing the Nor’easter for the first time, the desert sounded like a good time. 

“Well there goes my plan,” JJ said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air.

Spencer flopped onto Penelope’s neatly-made bed, collapsing into the assortment of pink pillows while carefully keeping his take-away cup upright. Emily sat down next to JJ on her bed.

“Your plan?” Emily asked. 

“Yeah,” JJ said, sounding a bit shy. “I had this whole plan to make up a blanket fort here for you, and I would surprise you with it when you walked in.’”

JJ gestured with her hands at the mess. Blankets and pillows were strewn about, and a bundle of fairy lights were laying in the middle of the floor. 

“Then you came back early,” JJ concluded. “Spence, I thought you’d keep her occupied longer!”

“You didn’t tell me that,” he replied. Spencer looked quizzically at her, shrugged, then took another sip of his coffee.

“I just wanted us to have a cute date night,” JJ admitted. “I know you’re so stressed, and you deserve a break.” 

Emily grabbed her girlfriend’s moving hands and held them in her own. She felt overwhelmed. JJ was so… thoughtful. Caring. Attentive. So many things that were absolutely foreign to Emily. No one had ever tried to impress her like this. 

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We don’t need anything special to have a cute date night. You’re cute enough.”

JJ gave Emily a goofy smile in response. 

“Okay,” JJ said. “If you say so.”

“You’re building a blanket fort?” Spencer asked. “I actually have some experience with blanket fort architecture.”

“You do?” JJ asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

“Of course,” he replied, seeming almost offended that she questioned him. “It sparked my interest in engineering. I wanted to overcome the problem of chair-tippage when it came to building the structure, so I devised a system of counter-weights that I found increased the structural integrity by 53%. My mom always told me that I could be an architect, but I thought the sciences better suited my intellect.”

“Oh?” Emily asked, genuinely interested. How would someone measure the structural integrity of a blanket fort? 

“Actually, I have some blueprints. Let me grab them,” he said, standing up and making a move for the door. 

“Of course you have blueprints,” JJ laughed. 

“I should probably go feed Gideon, anyway. I’ll be right back!” Spencer  said. Before closing the door behind him.

“Gideon?” Emily asked. 

“His fish,” JJ said, “the one he won at the fair. It’s named after his professor, I think.”

She shrugged. The kid was weird, they tended to just accept that. 

“I guess Spencer’s joining us on date night,” JJ said. “Sorry. I know you’re stressed and probably want to be studying, but I thought we’d order pizza and just have one night off. Just us. And Spencer.”

JJ planted a firm kiss on Emily’s lips, leaving her dazed and blushing. 

“Relaxing sounds perfect,” Emily said, pulling her girlfriend closer to her. “I can’t believe it’s already exams. This semester has flown by. Soon it’ll be winter break, and I won’t get to see you.”

“I can’t imagine you not being right across the hall,” JJ said. “Who will give me kisses when I want them?”

JJ kissed Emily, sucking on Emily’s bottom lip slightly before pulling apart to look at her. 

“I know you’re joking, but I hope you’re not kissing anybody else, no matter the circumstances.”

With that established, Emily pounced on her girlfriend, pushing her onto her bed and kissing her deeply. She intertwined her fingers in the blonde locks that were splayed out in a golden halo and breathed in deep, taking in the warm scent of the lilac candle that burnt on her night side table. 

All her worries melted away at JJ’s touch. Emily’s brain was filled with the feeling of JJ’s lips on hers, with her lithe form beneath her. Exams, student politics and thoughts of home were wiped away, and her stress faded into background noise. 

JJ’s pliant form writhed under Emily’s, her hands sneaking below Emily’s sweater and dancing over her back. They deepened the kiss until they were making out like teenagers in JJ’s dorm with the door still open a crack. 

This was how Spencer, accompanied by Derek, found them when they pushed open the door with blanket fort blueprints and bags of potato chips in hand. 

Spencer made a surprised noise, which made Emily aware of his return. She jumped up and pulled apart from JJ with a dark red blush gracing her cheeks. 

“Woah there ladies,” Derek said with a laugh. “Keep it in your pants!”

“Guys! I was gone for five minutes!” Spencer whined. 

Emily stood up awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she watched JJ sit up and pat her hair down in a huff.

“Sorry,” Emily grumbled, not really meaning it. She would never be sorry for kissing JJ, but she was sorry for the awkwardness

“Pretty boy dragged me down the hall,” Derek said in explanation. He had Spencer’s rolled-up fort plans in his hand, and lightly smacked Emily’s head with it, making a comedic thwap noise as it made contact. “Hope you weren’t in the middle of something?”

“Only JJ’s legs,” Emily quipped to everyone’s surprise, even her own. JJ hit her jokingly and blushed. 

“Hey!” Derek laughed, “Let’s keep this PG!”

“You called?” The voice of Penelope Garcia—PG if you will—rang out from the hallway, and within seconds JJ’s room was filled with just about all their friends standing around in a slightly awkward silence: JJ, Emily, Spencer and Derek were joined by Penelope with Hotch in tow. 

The latter two of them had grown closer recently and walked into the room with white shopping bags with the walrus logo printed on the side, looking like they had just returned from out in the cold. Penelope and Hotch going thrifting together, that’s new! Emily thought to herself and decided to file the observation for later. The image of Hotch watching Penelope’s customary fashion show was enough to make her laugh under her breath. 

“We’re building a blanket fort,” Spencer announced, changing the subject to the task at hand. “Are you guys helping?”

“Oh you know I will, boy genius,” Penelope said with an excited smile. 

Emily looked over to her girlfriend. So much for date night.

———

Without much questioning about why they were building a blanket fort, the team got to work. In college, sometimes things just happened. Impromptu blanket forts were par the course. In their defense, any excuse to not spend the evening burying their heads in textbooks was a welcome reprieve. 

It started with just a few blankets draped in the space between JJ and Penelope’s beds, but with Spencer’s instruction, a verifiable architectural marvel began to take shape. 

While Emily knew that Penelope would be all gung ho for this sort of project, it was certainly amusing to see Hotch in his khakis and dress shirt crawling around on the floor like a child with the rest of them, tying off blankets and very seriously maneuvering the different parts of the structure. 

Sheets were draped here and there, tied together to form ceilings and walls. Two chairs stolen from the common room, loaded with backpacks on the seat for support acted as the entrance to the fort. 

While it was crawling space only, Emily had to note that there was a sense of awe when you emerged into the open space of the main fort-area. It was surprisingly big, fitting all six of them with ease. The key to the whole design was a curtain rod Hotch had stolen from the boys shower that lifted the roof up. 

The design was strangely reminiscent of Baroque architecture, which she was sure was due to Spencer’s designs. This was a fact that Emily kept to herself. She always tried to rein in the ‘I lived abroad’ conversation points so her childhood could remain under minimal scrutiny.

Emily’s exhaustion transformed into excitement as she relished the time hanging out with her friends. Music played from Penelope’s computer as they worked, they began to work as a cohesive group, each member doing their share. It was nice to do something besides sit at her desk and obsess over memorizing facts and statistics, or figuring out the proper argumentation for an essay on a subject. Making sure that a bunch of blankets didn’t crash onto them was treated with the utmost seriousness, and the whole group was focused with intense concentration at their own tasks. 

Spencer did, in fact, have literal sketches of blanket forts in his notebooks, but the details of which were fairly incomprehensible to her. While she believed that he did the math, his chicken scratch was just about indecipherable, and his drawing was little more than a few shapes on a page. Despite this, it was laid out on the centre of the dorm-room floor for them to reference. 

At one point, as Emily stood on JJ’s wheely chair, she feared that the fort had all come crashing down as she lost her balance and grabbed at the blankets to stop her fall before tumbling onto Derek with a yelp. 

“Sorry,” she muttered as she climbed back onto her feet and fought off the blanket that had wrapped her in a shroud. 

She flinched as she realized she had ruined it all, a pit forming in her stomach. She looked at her friends in concern, but instead of yelling at her for her mistake, or shunning her for ruining it for the rest of them, they smiled at her and helped her up.

“It’s okay!” Spencer said cheerfully. “I know exactly how to reinforce that wall.”

“You okay, Emily?” Hotch asked, righting the wheely chair as JJ fretted over her. 

“I’m good,” she answered, still confused as to why they weren’t mad at her. 

Instead of making a big deal over the set back, they went back to work. Soon, the fort filled out and it returned to its former glory. Arguably, better than it was because they had draped fairy lights throughout the inside, making the space glow with a warm orange light. 

Inside was filled with pillows and big enough for all of them to sit comfortably so it was a comfy lounge space. It was cozy and warm, the antithesis of the bitterly cold night air outside. 

“You know what?” Hotch said. “This is a damned good fort, Reid.” 

The group muttered in consensus. They all had piled into the space, and as the excitement wore off, Emily was wondering what happened next. What does one do in a blanket fort? She had vague memories of building one in her room, but she had just sat inside and read a book. 

“I hear the RA’s storage room has a ton of board games,” Penelope said. “They pull them out for socials and stuff.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re not asking Strauss to let us in,” Derek argued. “I still think she thinks we were responsible for that fire alarm last week. She’s been giving me the evil eye ever since.”

“Who said we had to tell her?” Emily said. “We could just… borrow… them…”

“I mean, they are for us to use, anyway.” JJ’s eyes had a mischievous look in them as she looked at Emily.

“That is true,” Hotch said, the scowl that was usually a fixture on his face turning to a smirk. 

“That’s stealing, guys,” Spencer warned, as if they didn’t already know that. 

“We’ll give them back,” Emily said with a shrug. “Come on!”

Penelope led the way to a dark wooden door on the main floor, it was labelled simply “Storage,” but the computer science student assured them that it was where the RA’s stored all of their supplies.

“It’s locked,” Penelope huffed.

“Do you have a bobby pin?” Emily asked her in a hushed voice. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she hadn’t learned how to pick simple door locks. She had trouble with deadbolts but a simple latch she could probably do within a couple of minutes.

The blonde pulled a hot pink bobby pin out of her perfectly curled hair. Emily snapped it into two, bending one end into a longer L-shape. Sticking that into the bottom of the lock and holding it in place, she used the other side to feel for the pins that held the lock in place. 

Emily could feel all eyes on her as she confidently knelt in front of the doorknob, the group keeping watch for her as she worked. No one questioned how or why Emily knew how to do this. She had her reasons. 

This definitely broke all sorts of residence rules and if they got caught, they knew they’d get into shit, but no one seemed to care that much. They just wouldn’t get caught. 

After a couple minutes, Emily’s hands began to sweat. What if she couldn’t do this anymore? She tried to centre herself. She had made it through infinitely more stressful situations in the past. It was the eyes of her friends on her that made her nervous. She was finally accepted by a group, and she desperately didn’t want to let them down. 

Then, it clicked, and she was able to turn the brass knob easily. Emily made a noise of excitement, got to her feet and yanked the door open. 

Instead of an empty storage closet, on the other side of the door was Erin Strauss, their RA, in a passionate embrace with David Rossi. Her shirt was unbuttoned and he was in the middle of sucking on her neck. 

“Dave?!” Hotch called out, startling the couple. 

Both groups stood stock-still, neither knowing what to say. While Emily had hid the bobby pins, she wasn’t sure who was in more trouble, them for breaking into the room or their RA for using the space for unofficial purposes. 

The room was small and cramped, with a pile of poster board mostly obscuring the one small window that lit the space. Strauss had been hoisted onto the desk, her legs straddling the other student. Emily could see a shelf filled with the board games stacked on the left side of the room, but they seemed unimportant at the moment. While Emily had known about their illicit love affair, she had never expected to see it in action. 

“Hey guys,” Rossi said after a moment, his unwavering confidence carrying on to this moment as he pulled apart from Strauss, who was furiously buttoning up her shirt and trying to sort herself out. 

“What are you all doing in here?” she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “This room’s meant for RA’s only.”

“Well,” Emily said, startled by her own audacity, “Dave isn’t an RA so…”

“We just came for some board games,” JJ said in her most diplomatic voice, despite clearly wanting to laugh at the situation, “then we’ll be off.”

“Take them and go,” the RA said in a strangled voice, her face beet-red and as she avoided eye contact like it was the plague. 

Clearly not as embarrassed as Strauss, Rossi simply smirked, collected a few board games into his arms off of the shelf, then deposited them into Emily’s arms. 

Realizing that given the circumstances, they couldn’t be picky with their choices, the stunned group thanked him then scurried away, back upstairs with their loot. The silence remained until they made it back to their floor, where they all burst into laughter.

“What on earth was that?!” Derek exclaimed. 

“Rossi and Strauss,” Spencer muttered. 

Emily and JJ made eye contact, remembering all those weeks ago when they had caught their friend emerging from the RA’s room down the hall in the middle of the night. They had known that Rossi and Strauss had hooked up that night, but had no idea that it was a whole relationship.

“I see it,” Hotch commented. “I mean, I don’t know your RA too well, but Rossi likes a woman with authority.”

Derek and Emily fake-gagged in an exaggerated manner at the comment. 

“I think I need to bleach my eyeballs after that display,” Emily muttered. 

“Ooo-kay!” JJ said, pointedly changing the subject. “It seems like we have most of the pieces to Clue… I think we could manage a game of that. We also have Scrabble, Yahtzee and Snakes and Ladders. Uh… also a pack of cards.”

“At least it’s not chess,” Emily said, thinking about her seemingly endless exam that afternoon. 

“Agreed,” Spencer said. 

“We do not have chess, no,” JJ said with a quizzical laugh. 

———

After ordering a couple of pizzas to the dorm, they all settled in to play a board game. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to play Clue (or Cluedo as Emily continuously referred to it as). The board was laid out: it was vintage, with a teal and yellow colour scheme and some scuffs and rips showing its age. In their blanket fort, they were seated in a circle, all secretly looking at their Clue cards.

“Can I be Professor Plum?” Spencer asked before they had even gotten the pieces out of the box. 

“Of course pretty boy,” Derek said, “I’ll take Mr. Green.”

“My sculpted god of thunder looks excellent in green,” Penelope flirted, choosing the white piece for herself. 

“Did you know that in the original version of Clue, Mr Green was a Reverend, but they changed his name for American audience because they believed that the American public would object to a parson as a murder suspect?”

“Good thing you’re on our trivia team, Reid,” Hotch replied.  

Emily was Miss Scarlet, of course, and was seated right next to JJ, who had chosen to portray Mrs. Peacock. Hotch claimed the remaining piece: Colonel Mustard.

Emily loved board games. Her nanny in France, who was a kindly elderly woman that Emily only knew as “Madame,” would play with her each Sunday after church. She has hazy memories from that time, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming into their Parisian apartment as she learned how to play Cluedo. Emily would always try to cheat, but knew better than to try to do so with her immensely observant girlfriend seated to her left, JJ’s hand resting casually on Emily’s thigh.

She looked at her cards and grinned. She had been dealt her own character, she noted, as Miss Scarlet’s name was printed in bold on the top of her first card. It felt weirdly validating to know that she herself was innocent. Also in her hands were the cards for the candlestick and pistol, as well as the observatory. She marked these off of her card and tried to gauge her opponents' reactions. 

JJ was checking her phone with her cards face down, tracking the pizza’s arrival. Spencer was sprawled back, his long legs taking up way more room than was necessary, jotting down notes on some scrap paper. Presumably some statistics and probability for the possibilities of the cards that were sealed in the envelope in the centre of the board. Penelope smiled over at Derek and flirtatiously tried to sneak a peek at his hand. 

After the initial rounds being dedicated to moving around the board, Emily finally made it into her first room: the lounge. There, she decided on her first suggestion.

“I suggest,” Emily said, in her most dramatic, formal voice, which was particularly suited to the role of Miss Scarlet, “that Mrs. Peacock committed this heinous crime in the Lounge with-” she hurriedly grabbed the candlestick, “the candlestick!”

She knew that it wasn’t the correct weapon, but using it would narrow it down to someone ruling out either JJ’s character or the lounge as the scene of the crime. 

“Moi?!” JJ said, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “Your own girlfriend?!”

Emily grinned evilly at her, but internally she felt giddy. It was the first time she heard JJ use that word in front of their friends. JJ moved her piece into the Lounge. The others chuckled lightly at their antics.

“You have no alibi for the crime, Mrs. Peacock,” Emily said, “and I am merely making a suggestion.”

JJ glared at her, but said nothing. Emily turned to Derek, who was seated at her left. 

“What do I do?” Derek asked, looking around the room, slightly confused. 

“Do you have any of those cards?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah-” Derek said, moving to show his hand. 

“No!” Penelope stopped him. “Just show one of your cards to Emily if you can prove her suggestion was wrong.”

He made an “o” with his mouth and sneakily showed Emily the Lounge card. Emily noted that, and that it was Derek’s card. Mrs. Peacock had yet to be proven innocent, and Emily gave JJ a suspicious glance. 

She loved this game. 

As the game progressed, Emily noted a few things about her opponents. A part of Emily was profiling her friends subconsciously, reading each of their strategies like a book. 

Penelope always seemed to luck out on her dice rolls, covering a lot of terrain and gathering information like it was a cup of tea. But, she seemed to take it personally when someone accused Mrs. White of having killed Mr. Boddy and gasped every time someone made that suggestion. 

Hotch seemed to take the game very seriously, and was at it like he was an actual police officer solving crime. But, it didn’t seem that he completely understood all of the rules, and definitely hadn’t played before, so he spent most of his turn grumbling as he skimmed the rule pamphlet. 

Spencer, on the other hand, had memorized the rules, common strategies and probabilities of the different outcomes, so Hotch often looked over to him nervously as the boy wrote longhand equations in the notebook that he pulled out of his bag for the very occasion. 

Derek also had never played before, and regularly made ‘accusations’ rather than ‘suggestions’ when he entered a room, frustrating Spencer to no end. But, Derek was smart and seemed to be picking it up as he went along. That was until he made the same suggestion twice in a row, both times making Hotch show him the exact same card. He asked Reid endless questions about specific rules, and more than once he made the boy double check in the rule book when Derek tried to make a rather unorthodox move. 

JJ seemed to be the only one genuinely trying to have fun. She munched on the Cheetos that she stored in the bottom drawer of her night stand, and made conversation. Her strategy seemed to be exclusively focused on playing the game like it was the 1985 feature film Clue, playing the role of Mrs. Peacock with a fake accent and treating it like an actual murder-filled dinner party.

After a solid twenty minutes of gameplay, the pizza arrived. With minimal grumbling from Hotch, who was apparently on a roll, they took a break to eat. 

“Did you see this?” Spencer said with his mouth full, lifting up the copy of the newspaper that he had grabbed earlier.

“Don’t get me started,” JJ grumbled and took a sip of her pop. 

“What happened?” Hotch asked, the conversation piquing his interest. 

Spencer explained—with the assistance of JJ who apparently knew one of the people involved through soccer—the entire scandal. Apparently, last year there had been very little interest in the leadership roles, so the President of the student government had simply waltzed into his role. He then hired all of his friends, his girlfriend, his roommate, and together they embezzled thousands of dollars of student funds. 

“I can’t believe they’re getting away with this,” JJ muttered. “Is there no oversight?”

“It’s always the same,” Emily replied. “Who’s going to oversee them? The college? They’re corrupt too.”

“This sucks,” Derek said. “Wish someone good would run for government, for once.”

Emily shook her head in frustration. It all just reminded her of her childhood. Embezzlement, corruption and nepotism all were casual topics discussed over family dinner in her home. She had higher hopes for students her own age, would they not break the cycle? Or was it just a microcosm of the outside world? 

“You should run Mr. Lawyer Man,” Penelope teased Hotch. “You could take any of these clowns.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and went back to his pizza, brushing her off. Emily smiled at him. Penelope was right, he might actually do a good job if he set his mind to it. 

The people that surrounded her now were nothing like her mother’s friends—or the kids she had been forced to hang out with when she was younger—they were genuinely kind, supportive, and seemed to like Emily for Emily. When she told them she was an ambassador’s daughter, they had been more concerned with the cool places that she had been able to travel to than whatever power she had. At college, Emily finally exhaled fully, slowly relaxing more and more into herself. 

But, the topic of politics always set her on edge, especially since the semester was ending soon. Her mother had already begun to leave her voicemails about the galas, fundraisers and events that she was required to attend over Christmas break. She pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the warmth that surrounded her. With some music playing softly (a song that JJ liked by Vampire Weekend), the softness of blankets under her, and JJ leaning on her slightly as she ate her dinner, Emily felt at peace. She knew she could handle winter break, because she knew that these friends would be here when she came back. 

After years of leaving a school midway through the year only to show up to some new boarding school or international school each time her mom was reassigned, Emily never had a chance to put down roots. But, with each bite of pizza, Emily felt herself becoming even more firmly rooted. Not to this place, but to these people as their lives became more entwined. 

Once dinner was over, the game continued, and thoughts of politics left their minds. By then, Emily narrowed it down to the weapon (the candlestick), two rooms (the kitchen and the billiard room) and she was pretty sure that it was Colonel Mustard that had committed the crime. 

She had a decision to make: walk all the way from the study to the billiard room, or risk being wrong by making an accusation. She was pretty sure both Hotch and Reid were on the right track, as the younger boy’s scribbling in his notebook had gotten even more intense and the older boy was beginning to look around suspiciously, as if the others were trying to read his notes. 

She had pretty much ruled out Penelope, JJ and Derek as competitors, as the trio spent most of the time talking, and genuinely trying to have fun. Emily, Reid and Hotch were all way too into it, but Emily was competitive and this was her game. She wasn’t going to lose to Hotch, no way. Reid winning she could blame on his boy-genius nature, but Emily decided that Hotch was going down. 

The two boys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, all eyeing each other across the board, the tension palatable between them as their competition became heated. 

She nervously tried to move to the billiards room, deciding to play it safe. Better safe than disqualified. But, as soon as she made that decision, she regretted it as Spencer straightened up on his turn and said: “I’d like to make my accusation.”

“Write it down,” JJ prompted, as per the rules. He jotted it down in his paper. 

Then, with bated breath, they watched as he grabbed the envelope out of the centre of the board, and read the cards. His face fell when he saw one of the cards, so he must have been wrong. He placed them back into their envelope and back onto the board. 

“No dice?” Emily asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Statistically speaking that should have been right,” he grumbled. “My math was wrong.”

“Boy genius isn’t a good detective, huh?” Penelope mused. 

A few turns went by, with Derek, Penelope, and JJ moving around the board or making suggestions. 

Emily rolled the dice, making one square from a room. She sighed. She’d make a suggestion next round. 

On Hotch’s next turn, he made an accusation, which he wrote down on a pink sticky note that Penelope had handed out when the game started. He checked the envelope. 

Emily held her breath. She was sure he had it and that the game was over. She should just call it quits now. She went to bite her nails out of stress, but stopped herself, they were starting to get long and she wanted them to look nice. 

A moment passed as Hotch compared his cards. After he saw the third card in the envelope, his expression revealed that was also wrong. 

Boys, Emily thought. Always so overconfident. 

She made a suggestion instead of risking it: “Miss Scarlet—er myself I guess— in the Billiards Room with the pistol.” 

It was a gamble. If she was right, and the people who knew she had her own card and the pistol caught on, they would also know that it was the Billiard Room, because no one would be able to disprove her theory. If she was wrong, someone would have the card for that room, and she would know that the crime occured in the Kitchen. 

The second seemed to be true, as Derek showed her his card with a small illustrated image of the Billiard Room on it. She was right. She knew what it was. But, she would have to wait until her next turn. She was going to win. 

But, it was she who was overconfident, because as she was too busy preemptively celebrating her win, Derek casually made his accusation. 

“Hey I’m right!” he exclaimed, holding up the cards and his own hot pink sticky note. 

In his semi-cursive scrawl read: “Colonel Mustard, Candlestick, Kitchen.” These guesses matched the cards hidden in the envelope, and Emily’s own deduction that she planned to make on her own turn. 

“You guys really thought I hadn’t played this game before?” Derek laughed. “I’ve got two sisters, board games were everything.”

“Were you hustling us, Morgan?” Spencer demanded. 

He smirked. 

“Should’ve put money on the outcome,” Derek said with a laugh. “I’d be rich.” 

Emily threw her cards onto the table in defeat. JJ shot her an empathetic look, and Emily tried to stuff her frustration down to pat her friend on the back for the surprising win. He deserved it.

———

After the game concluded and the pizza had been completely eaten, the group parted ways, heading to bed, or for more midnight snacks or to finish up some studying, leaving JJ and Emily alone and to start? a game of Scrabble. 

The board was ancient, and quite a few letters were missing, but with music droning on JJ’s laptop, and the soft fairy lights overhead, neither girl minded too much. 

Emily looked at her letters:  O, B, S, O, T, B, W and thought hard, rearranging the wooden pieces to try and formulate a word. After a long day of academia, and investing so heavily into the game of Clue, she probably had only one or two working brain cells and both were telling her to play the word ‘boobs.’  

Her eyes flicked to her girlfriend, who looked absolutely gorgeous in the warm light. Her blonde hair almost glowed, and she had an adorable expression on her face. Emily couldn’t help but glance lower, thinking about the real world examples of her Scrabble word.  

She played the word with a cheeky grin. 

“‘Boobs,’ Emily?” JJ scolded. “Really?”

She sounded angry, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks and Emily could tell the girl found it funny. 

“I can’t help it,” Emily said. “I haven’t thought of much else since last weekend.”

She raised and lowered her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, making JJ laugh and kick her lightly in protest. 

JJ then played the word ‘throw,’ using the ‘o’ from ‘boobs’ to form her word, earning her thirteen points. 

“I don’t think you can throw boobs, babe,” Emily said. “They’re usually attached.”

JJ rolled her eyes. 

Emily made it her mission to find the funniest words possible, working extra hard (and missing out on some good points) in an effort to make JJ laugh. ‘Armpit,’ ‘meaty,’ ‘hoagie,’ ‘urine,’ ‘joint’ and her piece de resistance: ‘boner.’ All while JJ was playing incredibly normal, and often strategic words like ‘axis,’ ‘snow,’ ‘vain,’ ‘snag’ and ‘writings,’ hitting multiple double- and triple word scores on the way. 

“This is fun,” Emily said, sneaking a handful of JJ’s Cheetos out of the family-sized bag next to the blonde, while she was distracted by playing her turn. 

“I don’t understand how you’re winning,” JJ muttered. 

Emily shrugged, “Guess I’m just a genius.”

“Reid? Is that you?” JJ joked. “Why are you disguised as my girlfriend?” 

“Would Reid do this?” Emily said, leaning over toward her girlfriend and pressing kisses all over her face until she fell back. Then Emily straddled her, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace that left both girls panting. 

“I would hope not!” JJ exclaimed with a laugh, making a face at the thought. 

They laughed and went back to making out, with Emily careful not to disturb the game pieces. JJ sucked onto Emily’s bottom lip, making her weak in the knees and she struggled to support herself over JJ’s shorter frame at the motion. 

“We should-” Emily tried to say between kisses, “finish the game.”

JJ kept deepening the kiss, going so far as to grab onto Emily’s butt to hold her in place on top of her.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Emily chided, “because I’m winning! I see right through your plot.” 

She sat up and went back to her tiles before playing another funny word: ‘suck’ for twenty points. JJ grumbled,fiddling with her own tiles, as Emily collected a few out of the bag. 

Emily was preening as she rearranged her own tiles and didn’t notice as JJ put down her word. When she went to play her next word (‘zap’) and only then did she see what word JJ played. 

‘Love.’ 

It was there. Clear as day. Written vertically and connected to the word ‘snow,’ it was unmistakable. Emily looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what it could possibly mean that her girlfriend very intentionally played such a loaded word. Was it the only word that fit? Did she only mean that she loved the snow? Was she also reading into it? 

Emily looked up, making eye contact with JJ. The blonde blushed and looked away, nervously fiddling with the necklace around her neck. Emily smiled faintly at the warmth that flooded through her, but alongside that, was the sharp pang of anxiety. Was she supposed to acknowledge that? Would that make it weird? 

‘Zap’ didn’t feel appropriate when her girlfriend may or may not have confessed her love for her. 

She played it anyway, deciding that making a big deal of it would just complicate matters. Besides, did she love JJ? She didn’t know. It was all so new. She liked JJ a lot. She definitely like-liked her in the traditional sense of the world. But Emily had never been in love before. She’d loved people before, Matthew for one, and her mother in a way, and she loved Derek like a brother. But being in love was a whole ‘nother ball game. 

JJ won the game after playing ‘equinox’ for twenty two points near the end, beating any lead Emily had gained from her silly words. JJ deserved it in the end, as the blonde would sit and stare at her letters until they formed the most complex words that Emily had never even heard of. Emily’s eyes drooped and she was barely able to create three letter words by the end, while JJ was still surprising her with her vocabulary. 

Emily shook JJ’s hand to congratulate her for the win. JJ grinned and kissed her. 

Then, they looked around and realized two things: it was past one in the morning and Penelope hadn’t come back to the room yet and that all of the blankets that JJ owned were currently being used in the blanket fort. 

“Can we sleep in my bed, tonight?” Emily asked. “I’ll help you clean up in the morning.” 

JJ nodded but was in the middle of texting Penelope, wondering where on earth her roommate had wandered off to. Within a minute she got back to JJ saying: with derek! will explain tmrw!! 😘 🧚‍♀️ 😳

JJ showed Emily the message and both girls giggled. Emily saw that coming, but didn’t realize it would be a game of Clue that finally sealed the deal.

Exhausted but happy and relaxed after the game night, Emily and JJ tumbled into Emily’s bed and cuddled up together. Between JJ and Emily, the word ‘love’ was left unsaid that night, but Emily fell asleep that night feeling a new warmth in her chest.

[lu-undy]

Happy birthday, Solitude But Two!

Here is a bonus Chapter!

"You guys will be alright, yeah?" 

"Of course, Micky, it's not the first time you leave the kitties with us." 

"But it's gonna be more than an evenin' this time. Also, before I forget, I put one of Lu's shirts in the bag, they need it to sleep, don't forget it or they'll harass you until you give it to them."

Perle was gladly following Caroline around while Soot lay on Mike's lap, purring as the old man gently massaged the black cat. 

"Bah, we raised you and we used to have cats as well as dogs."

"Your Mum's right." Mike answered from the sofa. "We'll be fine. You go and have fun with Lucien. Did you tell him by the way?" 

"Nah, not yet. I'm keepin' it a surprise for him. Speaking of, I really gotta go or we’ll be late. He’s waitin’ to have lunch with me before I take him." 

"You arranged everythin'?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, almost. Right, you guys take care, alright?"

"We will, Micky, you go and have your fun with your Lu'." Caroline answered as Mundy opened the front door.

"Meow!" Perle came trotting to her father and Soot jumped out of Mike's lap to join her. 

"Oh, sure, baby, c'mere you guys…" Mundy squatted down and dealt headbutts and scratches left and right to both the felines. "You behave with Grandma and Grandpa, yeah?" 

"Meow." 

"Good babies." He left a kiss on their heads and pushed himself back to stand up. "See ya!"

"See you in a few weeks, Micky!" 

A few moments later, the Aussie was on his motorcycle, racing through the streets and in his own mind. He had been preparing this for a while now. 

It had been one year. 

One year since he had put a ring on Lucien's finger and vice versa. Well, it would be one year exactly in a few days and this was what it was all about, celebrating the first anniversary of Lucien and him being… well… husbands? 

Of course, their legal status remained single but in their hearts and their heads, they were very much taken and faithful to each other. Mundy never did attract a lot of attention from ladies and gents, but Lucien… 

Every time the couple was having dinner outside, or enjoying a party with the few friends they had made, one person would walk to Lucien and hit on him. The first time it happened, it was a woman but Mundy nonetheless felt the itch to show her the rings, Lucien's and his. As he came close to his lover, he heard Lucien chuckle at the poor woman's attempt to pull her into her bed. He remembered it with a smile now…

“Oh, here you are, Mundy.”

“Hey, Lu.”

The woman had raised her eyes to the Aussie. 

“This your friend?” She asked. 

“More than that…” Lucien put a hand on Mundy’s chest and leaned on him. “Please meet my everything, Mundy. Mundy, this is the charming Amanda.”

“Hey there.” Mundy had stuck to being cold but polite, a defensive hand went to grab his Lucien and pull him to himself, almost defensively. 

“What d’you mean, ‘your everything’?” She chuckled with a raised eyebrow, confused and slightly mocking. 

“I mean this.” Lucien answered and pulled Mudy’s neck down for the Aussie to be at his lips height. He pushed a loving kiss on his lips and released him. Mund opened his eyes again, his mind still on the kiss even though Lucien’s lips had parted from his. 

Amanda’s jaw hung low and wide. 

“He is my husband, look!” Lucien went on, uphased. “This is the ring. It has only been a few months, mind you, time flies, but we love each other as if we were half our ages… Oh? Amanda?”

The woman had spun on her heels and left, leaving Lucien to chuckle and turn back to Mundy. 

“So, mon loup, are you enjoying your evening?” 

[My wolf]

“Uh… Y-yeah… Wasn’t she hittin’ on you?” Mundy nodded in the direction of the woman. 

“She was, very much.” Lucien answered. “But for some reason she left now. I cannot think why… Women shall remain a mystery!”

“Maybe that’s cause you snogged me like there’s no tomorrow in front of her?” Mundy answered.

“Oh, that? Maybe.” Lucien answered and leaned against Mundy’s shoulder again. He stared at the woman refilling her glass with whatever strong alcohol she could find before he raised his light blue eyes to his lover. 

They exchanged a smile. 

“You’re a devil, you know that?” Mundy said. 

“Maybe, but I am having great fun.”

“Why did you do that to her? You could have just said that you were already with someone.”

“And miss this laughter we shared? For nothing in the world. This ring that she chose to ignore,” Lucien raised his hand to Mundy. “It means that I vowed to make you happy. You did laugh, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. “

“Then I am upholding my vows. Très bien.”

[Very well] 

 “You’re mean, Lu’. Look at her now…”

“I am not mean. If anything, she was.”

“What?!” Mundys eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“I am wearing my engagement ring and she still chooses to approach me. She knew she was taking a risk and she liked the thrill of it. Well, let this be a lesson for her: not all the risks are worth taking, Madame Amanda.”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Mundy agreed. 

And Mundy reached his destination, which pulled him out of his daydream. He parked the motorcycle safely and entered his house. 

“Mon loup, c’est toi?”

[My wolf, is that you?]

“Oui, mon amour.”

[Yes, my love.]

Lucien rose from his armchair and met his love at the front door. 

"Your accent when you speak French is delicious…" He said before pushing himself to the tip of his toes and kissing Mundy. 

"I'm makin' progress, aren't I?" Mundy laced his arms around Lucien's waist.

"Oui, but please, never lose your accent." 

"If it goes like it does with you, I'll still have my accent in a hundred years."

"Are you saying I am old?" Lucien frowned in an exaggeratedly sad way. 

"I'm not the one spendin' my time sayin' 'You'll see when you get to my age', eh!"

"Pfff…" 

They chuckled together.

"You ready?" Mundy asked. 

"Where are you taking me for lunch?"

"Where d'you think?"

"Hm…" The couple exited the house and Mundy locked the door as Lucien thought out loud. "Maybe the new Lebanese place that opened in town? I am told it is exquisite and very reasonable in price." 

"Since when d'you care about the price of things?" Mundy smiled. "Oh, no, no, Lu', we're not goin' with the bike. I called a taxi." 

"Oh? This means that you intend to get drunk, so maybe the Irish pub? But isn't it early to get drunk?"

"Never too early to be with you, baby." Mundy raised his arm for the taxi to stop while Lucien's blush took a moment to fade. 

They both embarked in the taxi. 

"Where to, Sir?" The driver asked. 

"Where I told you on the phone, please." Mundy answered. 

"Alright." The driver let his foot press on the gas pedal and off they all went. 

"Tu me caches des secrets?"

[You are holding secrets from me?]

"Oui." Mundy answered. 

"Dis-moi où tu m'emmènes." Lucien asked.

[Tell me where you are taking me.]

Mundy shook his head and took a glance in the inside rear view mirror. The driver was busy. Good. The Aussie slid his hand to take his lover’s. 

“C’est une surprise, doll.” He answered with his accent. 

[It’s a surprise.]

“D’accord.” Lucien smiled and nodded.

[Very well.]

And the ride took them away from where the usual restaurants the couple frequented used to go. Lucien straightened his back and looked through the window. He started frowning when he saw the control tower of the airport, the same one he had landed in, a few years ago now. And it got him thinking. What if he could go back and see the Lucien that disembarked on the plane that day. Would the slightly younger Lucien believe him if he had told him what he would become? What would he even tell him? 

Tu rencontreras l’homme de ta vie et ta vie basculera. Tu ne demanderas plus comment ni pourquoi. Tu vivras l’instant, tout simplement, comme quand tu avais vingt ans. Tu vivras et aimeras, comme quand tu avais vingt ans. Tu seras heureux comme jamais tu ne l’as été. 

[You will meet the man of your life and your life will flip upside down. You will not wonder how or why anymore. You will live the instant, simply, as you did when you were twenty. You will live and you will love, as you did when you were twenty. You will be happy as you never were before.]

Would the younger Lucien believe him or would he laugh at him, scornful and disdainful, before he would realise that perhaps, the older him was senile, old, and out of his mind? 

Pff, in the end, Lucien did not even care. He smiled at that version of himself. The bitter, cynical and lonely old man. He was now even older, but so much happier…! 

"Lu'?" 

Mundy's voice broke the Frenchman's train of thought. 

"Oui?" 

"Je t'aime." 

[I love you.] 

Mundy said those words with such honesty in his eyes that Lucien's cheeks turned pink on their own. 

"Moi aussi."

[Me too.]

He smiled back at him and clenched his fingers a bit harder between Mundy's. 

"Alright, we're gettin' there, Sir. Which door should I drop you at?" The driver asked. 

"Departures, please." Mundy answered, his eyes sealed on Lucien's and the Frenchman's eyebrows jumped. 

"Departures?" He repeated.

"Yeah."

"Are we… travelling?"

"Yeah." 

"But Mundy, we haven't taken any luggage with us?" 

"Don't be silly." Mundy gently chuckled as the driver parked. 

Both men exited the car and Mundy winked at Lucien. 

"C'mon, Lu', keep up! We don't wanna miss the flight…!"

"W-wait!" Lucien caught up with his lover. 

The airport was as busy as an anthill. People coming, going, running, pushing carts, holding their hats on their heads as they ran. 

"Mundy, were you serious?" 

"Course I am! We're goin', c'mon!" Mundy glanced up at a screen and quickly spun on his heels to change direction. Lucien followed, sometimes even trotting after his lover. 

"But where are we going?" 

"Told you, and in French at that, it's a surprise." 

"You cannot keep the surprise going forever, I will soon know." Lucien answered. 

"Yeah, but meanwhile, I'm likin' this whole 'Lu' doesn't know what's happenin'' business." Mundy smirked and looked down at Lucien, which he knew the Frenchman had a weakness for. 

"I shall find out myself!"

"Alright, good luck, Sherlock." Mundy winked and Lucien smiled. 

They walked through halls and corridors. 

"Uh, uh, uh! Gimme what you took from my pocket back!" Mundy stopped walking and turned to Lucien

"How could you possibly know?!" Lucien stopped. "I made every effort for you not to feel it!"

"You stole somethin' from my back pocket." Mundy said and opened his palm flat. "Give it back…" 

"How did you know?" Lucien frowned. 

Mundy sighed with a smile. He took the step that separated him from his lover and bent slightly such that his lips were next to the Frenchman's ear.

"I felt you touched my butt, and I liked it."

"Ah…" Lucien lowered his head and raised the plane tickets that he had taken from Mundy's back pocket. 

"Thank you, now stop bein' a spook and follow me."

They went on following sign after sign and looking at all the screens they met. 

"Here, that's the search thingy. I hope you don't have your blade with you." Mundy said as they queued. 

"What do you take me for?"

Both men started undoing their belts. Mundy removed his glasses and his hat. When the Aussie finished, he walked through the metal detector and soon after, his lover followed him. 

BEEP! 

"Ah, oui, I must explain myself." Lucien calmly said and Mundy observed the scene. "This is my passport. If you run a check on me, you will understand." 

The security employee took the passport and disappeared for a while. He came back and his colleague stopped him. 

"Hey, don't let him go, he had a knife in his belongings!"

"No, we have to let him go." The man handed Lucien his passport back. "With the knife and all. Have a good day, Sir, and sorry for the inconvenience." 

"No problem, you are but doing your job, Monsieur." Lucien took his belongings back and left the area. "Mundy? Are you coming? I do not know which gate we should head to."

Mundy had been standing there, his belt half put on, half still dangling down. His jaw had dropped as he watched. 

"Uh, y-yeah."

"Mundy." Lucien stopped him. 

"Yeah?" 

"Maybe you should finish putting your belt first?" Lucien tilted his head on the side and Mundy looked down at his waist. 

"Ah, uh, yeah…" 

A few moments later, both of them were standing in front of a screen. 

"Well, this is the moment where you'll see where I'm takin' you, doll." 

"Oui, it is. So? Which gate shall we go to?" 

"Forty-five." 

Lucien's eyes scanned the screen. 

"Oh… Mundy, but… Why Paris?" 

"Because I love you, and I wanna see what it's like over there."

"I…"

"C'mon, let's go." 

When they sat on the metallic, back-breaking bench at the gate, they chose a corner where they could be alone and in peace.

"Mundy, why go to Paris, honestly?" Lucien looked up at his lover. 

"Told you. I wanna see what your life was like when you were there. I mean… I know you told me you're not from there. But still… Besides, you've been livin' with me in Oz for a while, you've seen me and my life, I wanna see yours."

"I have indeed seen the Bushman in his natural habitat." Both exchanged a chuckle. 

"Look, if you don't want it, we can go back home. I don't wanna force you, baby." Mundy cast his eye around and dropped his hat on his thigh. He then slid his hand and pulled Lucien's underneath it. The Frenchman felt Mundy's thumb brush against the back of his hand.

"So, what d'you say?" Mundy asked.

"I say we go and I will show you the city where I grew up." Lucien answered. 

"You sure?" 

"We are about to board, Mundy, it is rather late to turn and go back home, non?" 

"No, not at all. If you feel awkward or anythin', we can go back home. I wanted to make it a surprise for you but the point's not for you to feel weird about it." 

"Non, Mundy, you are right. I should show you." Lucien clenched his grip on Mundy's hand. 

"You sure? I mean, are you happy to do it?"

"Delighted."

And Mundy took a second to stare in his lover’s eyes. Was he lying just to please him? To not make him feel awkward? The Aussie slightly squinted. He looked through the crystal clear irises to see the soul beyond them. Were Lucien’s lips deceiving the Aussie? Bah, it wouldn’t be the first time but… When was the last time that Lucien had lied?

Hm. 

Oh! Yeah, Mundy remembered it, it was… 

At the lake, almost exactly one year before, the wig. Lucien had worn a wig because he thought his lover could only look at him with the eyes of love when he made himself more feminine. It was obviously wrong and Mundy had tossed the long-haired lie away. That was Lucie’s last one.

Mundy blinked and his eyebrow relaxed. Lucien was not lying. He was looking up at the Aussie with eyes that screamed his limitless love for him. 

“Alright then, doll. Glad you’re happy to show me around.”

“Of course.” Lucien answered. “I am surprised by this trip but welcome it warmly. I think we should probably have done that before but I suppose we did not stop to think about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Got any ideas on what we should see?”

“Apart from the classics like the Tour Eiffel, the Arc de triomphe, and other tourist attractions? Hm, I shall think about it.”

“Can I ask you to show me some stuff in particular?”

“But of course. What do you have in mind?”

“Where you lived, where you worked, places you liked to eat at, that kind of thing.” 

"I will."

They exchanged a conniving smile and the call to board the plane interrupted them. 

"Ready, baby?" 

"Oui." 

"Right, let's go and queue." 

A few minutes later, both found their seats in the plane and Mundy looked through the window. The sky was blue despite the relative cold of winter. Well, once in Paris, it will be summer… The plane took off and when the couple was higher in the sky than the clouds themselves, Lucien looked up at Mundy on his left. 

“I am surprised.”

“You’d better. Been hidin’ evidence of everything.”

“How did you do it?”

“Gave the tickets and everything to my Mum.” Mundy smiled. “I even tried to not think about it. I never know with you; could turn out that you can read my thoughts or somethin’.”

Lucien chuckled. 

“I could indeed.” He confirmed with a lingering smirk on his lips. “However, I choose not to.”

“Why?”

“The Lucien of the previous life used to read minds because he needed it.”

“And now it’s just a hobby?” Mundy chuckled. 

“Almost.” Lucien answered. “Non, I value my relationship too much with you to not give you the same privacy that you give me. It is a question of respect. However, it is cute to see you try to read me to see if I lie sometimes.”

“Ah, uh, well…” Mundy scratched the back of his head. “Sorry...  I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you…”

“Not at all. It gives me the impression that you really want to know what is going on in my head, which I appreciate.”

“Really?”

“Oui, I like this side of you, the side that wants to read all my fears in my eyes before I am fully aware of them.”

Mundy blushed. 

“Yeah, well… Sorry, can’t help it.”

“It is a gift and a blessing, thank you for being so.”

“You’re welcome, baby. But uh, Lu’?”

“Oui?”

“Why did you say you were surprised?”

“Ah…” Lucien chuckled before he even gave the answer. “I did not take you for the business class ticket kind of a man.”

“I was gonna go for the economy thing, but then Mum said that in business we’d get a booth and we wouldn’t be bothered by people givin’ us looks. So I can do this…” Mundy reached for Lucien’s hand and took it. “And no one’ll look weird at us.”

“Cutely thoughtful of you, mon loup.”

“You can thank my Mum for that.”

Both chuckled and Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

“I will, but in the meantime, thank you, mon amour.”

Minutes passed that turned into hours and the sky naturally darkened. After the dinner they were handed in, the couple closed their eyes. 

“Mornin’, luv’.”

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

[Good morning, my love.]

Both yawned, woken up by the bright morning sun above the clouds. 

“Slept well?”

“I think my neck will hate me for a few hours only. What about you?”

“My legs…”

“How long do we have left until we land?”

“Uh…” Mundy checked his watch. “A few hours…?”

“Mundy.”

“Some number of hours…?”

“Mon loup.”

“Alright, ok, we got three hours left.”

“That isn’t that bad, actually.” Lucien answered, surprised.

“Yup. Oh, Lu’, I just thought about something.”

“Oui?”

“Uhm… Y’know how I told you I wanted to visit your workplace?”

“Oui, I remember.”

“How’re you gonna do it? I mean you're supposed to be dead for the Ministry back there, aren’t you?”

“Indeed, I am. You will have to call me by my second name when we get there so as not to raise suspicions.”

“But you still look like yourself. People will recognise you, won’t they?”

“Non, they will not. I was once a spy: entering places I shouldn't be while being someone I am not was my occupation for decades and not a trade easily forgotten.” Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy. “Do not worry, I will show you the Ministry.” He smiled tenderly.

“Alright, I trust you. But if you think we can’t make it or somethin’, there’s no shame in sayin’ it.”

“Non, absolutely not, you are right. But this will be easy.”

A few hours and a nap later, the pilot announced the imminent landing. Mundy looked at the city below the plane. He could see a river flowing, zigzagging through the capital. 

“C’est la Seine.”

[It is the Seine.]

“Oh…”

“Ca, c’est l’île Saint-Louis… Et ça ? tu peux me dire ce que c’est ?”

[This is the Saint-Louis Island… And this? Can you tell me what it is?]

Lucien pointed and Mundy squinted to see better. 

“It’s… Oh! C’est la Tour Eiffel, non?”

[It’s the Eiffel Tower, isn’t it?]

Mundy answered in French and Lucien looked at him as he always did, yet each time, the Aussie couldn’t help but fall slightly deeper for his lover. 

“Oui, c’est la tour Eiffel.”

[Yes, it is the Eiffel Tower.]

Lucien confirmed. 

“It’s the real thing? It’s tiny…”

Lucien’s smile vanished. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s tiny! I thought it was supposed to be very tall!”

“Well, you will climb it using the stairs and I swear to God your thighs will make you regret these words!” Lucien answered and Lundy burst into laughter. 

“I’m jokin’, you sensitive, patriotic old baby…”

“Hm, joking now, aren’t you…? I will still make you climb to the top of it on the stairs.”

“How many steps is it to the top, d’you know?”

“One thousand six hundred and sixty-five. It takes between half an hour and forty-five minutes to climb it to the second floor which is not even the top.”

“You're pulling that out of your arse, aren’t you?”

“You shall see….!” Lucien leaned back on his seat with a smug smile on his lips. 

“Hm… Hold on, we aren’t gettin’ closer to the ground, the Eiffel Tower’s still tiny…”

“It is because it is forbidden to fly over Paris.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oui, I am, it has been so since the Second World War, if I remember correctly.”

“Woah… You guys know no Germans are gonna come and bully you again, don’t you?”

“We know. But we would rather keep our sky blue and free of planes.” Lucien answered. 

“Fair enough. Makes it more calm I guess."

When the plane landed and both made it through, Mundy held Lucien back in front of the airport's closed doors. 

"Hold on, before we step into actual Paris…"

"Oui?"

"I love you, Lu'." 

Lucien smiled. 

"I love you too."

"Alright, now, we can go." 

They took a step more and the doors slid open. The first rays on the Parisian summer sun hit their skin warmly and the lightest of breezes grazed their cheeks before rolling up to the sky. 

“Here we are then, eh? Paris.” Mundy said looking around him.

“We are outside of the city itself but I guess you booked a hotel inside?” Lucien asked.

“Actually, I didn’t.”

“Oh?” Lucien raised surprised eyebrows. 

“I was kind of counting on you to know where to go…?” Mundy admitted with a half ashamed smile.

“Oh, of course. I have recommendations.”

“You choose then, Lu’. I looked up the hotels and stuff but there were too many of them and I didn’t know which one to pick.”

“It is fine, let us call a taxi, I know where we should go.” Lucien smiled.

“Thanks, Lu’.”

“My pleasure.”

After half an hour inside a taxi, both stepped out in front of a hotel and Lucien waited for the car to disappear behind him. 

“Welcome to the Ritz.” Lucien said and Mundy looked up to take the large three-floor building in. The architecture was nothing like he had seen so far. At the end of a flight of stairs hidden by a red carpet, the doors stood wide and tall between spiral-trimmed slim plants and equally fancy dressed porters. A French flag was flying above the double door that put a slight proud smile on Lucien’s lips. The walls were all made out of light beige stone and on each floor, rectangular windows were neatly and equally spaced. On the first floor were slim balconies adorned with a golden plated logo of the hotel. As Mundy’s eyes followed the column of clean stones, jumping from one window to the one above, he noticed that high up, the roof was covered in dark slate with windows surrounded by smoothly moulded, light beige stone.

“Gosh…”

“Come on, we both need a shower at least.” Lucien smiled at how absorbed Mundy was by the looks of the building. 

The couple decided to take a few days of rest and let the jet-lag fade away slowly. They had their clothes bought and delivered to them at the hotel and enjoyed their meals either in their suite or in the restaurant downstairs. 

“What did you say the room we’re in was called?”

Lucien chuckled. 

“It is not a room, but a suite, mon amour, and it is called the Coco Chanel suite.”

“Funny name…”

“It is the name of a prestigious designer. She designed the room herself.”

“She was French?”

“Oui, she was.”

“Ah, guess it makes sense… How much is it per night?”

“A price that pales next to that of your company.” Lucien poetically answered. 

“Thanks, Lu, but I meant in Francs?”

“About a hundred…”

“Oh that’s quite cheap for a suite.”

“... Thousand Francs per night.”

“WHAT?!” Mundy almost spat his coffee out.

Lucien burst out laughing, catching his breath in the short little snorts that Mundy fell in love with. 

The next couple of days were spent visiting all the tourist-heavy places: the Eiffel Tower, the cathedral of Notre-Dame, the Palace of Versailles… Mundy saw more paintings and sculptures in those few days than he did in his entire life.

“Stop.” 

Lucien’s voice was firm, too firm and cold to be addressing Mundy. The Aussie turned and saw Lucien with his hand on a young man's wrist. 

“Hold on, that’s my wallet in your hand…!” Mundy snatched it back from the stranger's hand. 

“La prochaine fois que tu pick-pocket quelqu’un, choisis mieux ta cible et ne regarde pas autant que ça à droite et à gauche, on te voit venir à des kilomètres.”

[Next time you pickpocket someone, choose your target more carefully and don’t look so much left and right, you are telegraphing all your moves.] 

The young man opened wide eyes and as soon as Lucien released his wrist, he darted off. 

“Attends.”

He stopped and turned to Lucien, a few metres away from him. 

“Tiens. Et tu n’es pas mauvais, tu devrais en faire quelque chose.”

[Here. And you are not bad, you should do something out of it.]

Lucien handed him a note. The young man took it and left. 

“You gave him money?” Mundy asked. 

“Oui.” Lucien resumed his walk and Mundy followed him. 

“Why?”

“Because stealing is rarely a hobby. If one does it, it is out of necessity. Throwing  this young man in a cell will not help him at all. On the other hand, helping him such should.”

Mundy fell silent for a moment. 

“Besides,” Lucien started speaking again. “I was once this young man, only I never got caught.”

The next day, the couple woke up normally. Good, the jet-lag had finally passed. 

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to visit the ministry today?”

The half woken up Australian opened wide eyes in a flash. 

“Sure. Uhm, how are we gonna do this?”

“I have an idea. But I need to call Maurice first. You go and take a shower, I will telephone him and will let you know.”

“Alright.”

A couple of hours later, both men stood in front of an elegant building in the heart of the fifth district of Paris, or as Mundy liked to call it ‘the fancy one”. 

“Shall we?” Lucien asked. 

“I’d follow you but ho ‘re we gonna go through these soldiers?”

Two military looking people were guarding the entry and checking everyones credentials. 

“As easy as just follow me.” Lucien answered with a smile before he took the flight of stairs up and met with the soldiers. 

“Bonjour, Messieurs. Nous venons de la part de Maurice de Ronzières, en Australie.”

[Good morning gentlemen. We come on behalf of Maurice de Ronzières, in Australia.]

“Je dois vérifier.”

[I must check.]

“Faites donc.”

[Pray do.]

Both men waited at the door and when the guard came back to them, he let them in. 

“Gosh, Lu’ - I mean, Louis… We’re in…”

“Oui, welcome to a place that they redecorated and I barely recognise…” Lucien shook his head disappointedly as he held his hips.

“That means we can’t visit it cause you don’t know where stuff is anymore?”

“Non, non.”

“Then why d’you look uh… not happy with it?”

“Because they redecorated and made it is ugly!” Lucien raised his arms in the air before letting them drop again. “Had I been still alive, I would have given the Minister of Defense a piece of my mind…!”

“Hold on…!” Mundy caught up with his lover and walked through the corridors. 

They abruptly stopped walking in front of a small door hidden under the stairs, on which Lucien gave a few knocks. 

“Qui est-ce?”  A muffled, old man’s voice asked.

[Who is it?]

“C’est moi.” Lucien answered and the door opened.

[It’s me.]

“Grand Dieu, Maurice a dit vrai…!”

[Good Lord, Maurice spoke the truth…!]

A short, skinny, old man emerged from what Mundy understood was the broom closet. He had lost most of his hair on his head and wore round, thick glasses.

“Comment allez vous, Georges?” Lucien opened his arms and the old man took a step forward and hugged him.

[How are you, Georges?]

"Ça doit faire une éternité! Les cheveux gris vous changent, Louis, mais je vous reconnais bien.”

[It must have been an eternity since last time. Grey hair makes you look so different, Louis, but I still recognise you.]

“Parlez-vous un peu d’anglais?”

[Do you happen to speak a bit of English?]

“Oh, j’ai les rudiments, à force d’entendre tout ce qui se passe…!”

[Oh, I learnt the basics on the fly here, as I’m forced to hear bits here and there…!]

“Then,” Lucien naturally switched to English. “Please meet my husband, Mundy.”

Mundy blushed beyond his ears. It was so uncommon for Lucien to introduce him as his husband straight away. 

“And Mundy, please meet Georges, the ultimate spy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mundy extended his hand and the old man shook it with a smile. 

“Does he understand French?” Georges asked, his accent so thick that next to him, Lucien sounded like a native…!

“Bits, oui, I have been teaching him.” Lucien answered. 

“Then, mes félicitations, mon garçon!”

[Congratulations, my boy!]

“Oh, uh, thanks… But how are you the ultimate spy?” Mundy asked. 

“We can chat as we walk, boys, come on, follow me!” The old man pulled a trolley of rags, dusters and all kinds of cleaning products out of the closet before he started pushing it. Lucien and Mundy followed him. 

“Georges here is responsible for the cleanliness of everything you see. He also happens to have the keys to every room in this building apart from a very select few of them. And all of that makes Georges the best guide to this place." Lucien explained as the trio walked through the corridor. 

The old man pushed his trolley through the corridors, making sure to take all the stair cases that nobody usually takes. 

"And I forgot to say," Lucien added through Georges' explanation of the rooms and corridors. "This man here is invisible to everyone meaning that if we stick to him, we become invisible too." 

"And so you don't break your cover… Ah, I get it…" Mundy nodded to himself. 

"Georges, could you take us to the portrait room, please?" 

"Yes, I can. They didn't move it cause they say history can't be changed." The old man answered, the keys jiggling from his belt loop.

"Ah, perfect." 

Georges took a second to unlock the door and push it open. 

"You have ten minutes, fifteen tops, before my colleague comes here to dust everything off. I'll try and buy you some time but he's young and finds I talk too much so he usually just leaves me alone to do his job. Counting on you, boys, be careful with the time!"

"We will be. Merci infiniment, Georges." 

[Thank you infinitely, Georges.]

"Avec plaisir." 

[My pleasure.]

Both men entered and Lucien shut the large, wooden double doors after them.

“Wow, what’s this place? Who’re these people?” Mundy said as he found himself in a room surrounded by painted or printed portraits. The oldest were black and white engravings while the most recent ones were coloured.

“This is the portrait room. It contains the photograph, painting or engraving of every man who made a decisive contribution to the establishment or security of this country.” Lucien explained. “Please, do have a look.”

Mundy started walking in what felt more like an art gallery than a room. He admired the faces, sometimes commenting on the military attire or the old style moustaches and beards. Lucien tried his best to recall the bits of history he knew about those important figures of the country, mentioning a few anecdotes when his memory allowed him to. 

“Golden frames for everyone, eh? That’s fancy as all hell…” Mundy said. 

“Indeed it is.” Lucien answered. “I am told that nowadays, when young spies finish their training, they are brought here and come out of this room with the hope that one day, their face will be on thiese walls.”

“Yeah, I can get the enthusiasm.” Mundy said. “Oh, Lu’... Hold on… Is that…?” Munddy squinted in front of a photograph and took a step forward. His eyes zigzagged on that of the man with light eyes and coal black hair. “Bloody hell, isn’t that you?!”

Lucien chuckled. 

“Guilty as charged.” The Frenchman said. 

“How old were you on this? You look half the age of the others!”

“I started my career early and abruptly. Some would say I even started without knowing it myself. But to answer your question, I was in my early twenties in this picture.”

“Bloody hell… You look like an angel back then already.”

Lucien smiled. 

“Merci.”

“What did you do to get your face up there?”

“I helped in the Résistance to free France from the Germans. I started as a courier boy, delivering messages until I grew up and understood that my, ahem, ease to approach women could be an asset for the country. Countless Nazi were caught through their wives and their mysterious lover.”

“You…?”

“Mh-hm, me. I broke a lot of German hearts back then, even before France’s liberation.” Lucien chuckled.

“Wow… Id love to take a picture of it.”

“We could take it back, if you want.”

“What?! You wanna steal it?!”

“It is my face and I am dead. I can claim it back.” Lucien shrugged.

“Hm.” Mundy fell deep in thought. “You know what?”

“Mh?”

“Leave it there.”

“You have changed your mind?”

“Yeah, leave it there for folks to look up at you and remember you. You changed my life, yeah, but you also changed an entire country before that. Let them have a souvenir.”

Lucien smiled. 

“Very well, mon loup.”

The next day, the couple woke up with the first rays of light, wrapped in the satin sheet of the Coco Chanel suite at the Ritz.

“Lu’?”

“Oui?”

“Uhm, there’s somewhere I wanna take you today.”

“Oh?” Lucien’s surprise was obvious. Mundy wanted to take him somewhere? Where? Why? And above all, how? The Aussie had spent the past week or so following his lover blindly and complaining that he did not know how Lucien could know where he was going. “Sure, when do you want to go?”

“This evenin’, if that’s fine with you too. We can go have dinner somewhere and then we’ll go?”

“Perfect for me, Mundy.”

And for the entire day, Lucien kept on thinking about it. Where would Mundy take him…? Until of course it was time to go. He followed his tall lover through the streets. The Aussie stopped only a few times to check his map and make sure they were heading in the right direction. 

“Alright, should be after this street.”

They stopped when they reached beautiful dark blue, wrought-iron gates. 

“A park? You wanted to take me to a park?”

“I uh… I don't think it’s any odd park.” Mundy answered and Lucien frowned. They both entered and wandered inside, following the yellow narrow roads. 

“Why did you want to bring me here, Mundy?”

“I think you guessed why.” Mundy answered. “You know we’re not in any park.”

“Indeed, I do, so why here?”

“Because it’s part of you and it’s important.” Mundy answered before he stopped walking. “Now, you gotta guide me.”

Lucien took a deep breath and let it all out in a long sigh. 

“Très bien.” He started walking and it took a few minutes of silence before they reached their destination, under a tree. 

“Is it here?” Mundy asked. 

“Oui, it should be.”

“Gimme your blade.”

Lucien took it from his inner pocket and passed it to Mundy who went down to sit on his knees and started digging. The Frenchman waited, his arms wrapped around himself. He felt slightly cold even though the day had been scorching hot and he evening was still warm. 

“Here we go...!” Mundy unearthed a small tin box. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” He stood up and dusted his knees off before both him and Lucien headed back. 

When they were in their suite and alone, Mundy headed for the bathroom. He cleaned the box of all the soil on it and brought it back to the living-room on a towel. Lucien had been sitting on the sofa, his stare blank. 

“You alright?”

“Oui,” He shook his head as if to land back into reality. “I was just lost in thought.”

“C’mon, ask me.” Mundy said and Lucien sighed. 

“Why did you do this?”

“Because you told me that everythin’ that was you before was in a box, that you had buried it in a park in Paris as the rain was pouring down in the middle of the night. You told me that it has all sorts of things like pictures of you, maybe even of your family and everythin’.” 

Mundy took a deep breath and took Lucien’s hand in his. 

“It’s been one year of you and me bein’ a solid thing and it’s been even longer of us just spendin’ all our time together, and even longer of me lovin’ you to bits.” Lucien blushed at the last part and smiled shyly. “And today, it’s been exactly one year of us being a thing. I put a ring on your finger and you put one on mine one year ago exactly. I just… I don’t wanna make you feel bad at all, I love you, I just wanna see your life from before and beyond that, I want you to be at peace with what you were before.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t care what you were, I just want you to accept whatever's in that box as a part of you. It doesn’t need to be buried down in the ground, it shouldn’t be there. It should be with us, with our pictures and memories.”

Lucien had sat silently through his lover’s speech. 

“You understand, baby doll?”

Lucien raised his eyes to his lover. 

“You are right, Mundy.” He took the box and put it on his lap before gently opening it. “This is the only photo album I have ever bought in my life, before we got ours. The oldest pictures are of my parents, then me as a baby and a young boy. The next picture is when I was officially made a spy, after the end of the Second World War, during which I served in the Résistance.”

He flipped the pages and pointed for Mundy to follow.

“Wow, you were already gorgeous back then.”

“Thank you.” 

The Aussie wrapped an arm around his lover to pull him close and Lucien leaned on him.

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know which hpark it was?” Lucien asked. “I don’t think I mentioned the name of it.”

“I asked Maurice for the park where we could spend some quality time that would mean something for you.”

“Ah, I see.” Lucien turned the page. “This is the few pictures of Marie and Jérémy that I have.”

“She was real pretty.”

“Oui, she was.” Lucien smiled at the pictures. 

“And Jeremy kind of looked like you a bit, I mean, his hair’s lighter than yours but…”

“He was born blond like the sun.” Lucien said. “His hair darkened as he grew up and was dirty blond before he passed.”

“Oh, I see.”

“This is us, all together.”

“Look at you bein’ a dad… You look so comfy handlin’ the baby. I’m always scared when I’m handed a kid. Always scared to drop them or hurt them or somethin.”

Lucien smiled with nostalgia.

“You should not. They are indeed very fragile but you are very strong.” He turned his head and pushed his lips on Mundy’s. 

“Thanks, luv’.”

“Thank you.” Lucien put the photo album aside. 

“There’s more stuff in the box?”

“Oui. Here, this was my first ever blade.”

“Oh, you kept it?”

“Oui, as a souvenir. When I was in the Résistance, I never thought that doing what I was doing would turn me into a spy, get me a job and a life that is reasonably put together. I just did it because I could and I was told I had a gift for it.”

“And you went on to become the best spook ever.” Mundy said, recalling the portrait at the Ministry.

“Something like that.” Lucien smiled. “Here, this is all black and old, but it used to be silver and shining bright.” He handed a thin, yet very old string of metal to Mundy. 

“It’s a bracelet?”

“It bears my name on it. It is a common gift that young children are offered here. I kept mine because it reminded me of my mother, whom I loved beyond everything else. Oh and this is a very old and worn out thing now, but I used to wear it to cover my mouth and nose, for people to not recognise me when I worked to liberate France.”

“It’s a black bandana?”

“It used to be Burgundy red.”

“We could give a polish to your bracelet and a good wash to your bandana. I’m not good with clothes but I’m sure there’s ways to bring it back to life.”

“I think so, oui. Ah, there it is… Although it is broken, this used to be the bracelet that I offered to Marie, when we first started to meet each other regularly.”

“It’s a pearl bracelet?”

“Oui, I have always liked pearls on women, I think it might be because my mother used to have a pearl necklace that she treasured more than anything else. It was a gift from my father. I remember as a child, I one day found it as I was prying into whatever I could lay my hands on in the house and she told me off for touching it.”

“Oh, wow…”

“Wow indeed.” 

Mundy took a second to look at the way Lucien was looking at his belongings from another life. His eyes were almost dreamy and his gaze, very soft, filled with nostalgia and bittersweetness. And soon, the smile widened and it was not an awkward listing of antics but objects that threw the Frenchman’s mind back when pictures were only black and white, when uniforms were compulsory at school, when with a Franc, you could buy a mountain…

“Oh, I am enjoying this actually, Mundy.” Lucien raised his eyes to his lover. “Thank you so much, mon chéri.”

[My darling.]

“You're welcome. See? It’s better to acknowledge everythin’ and even if it's bad things or mistakes that you can only blame yourself for, so be it. The only way to repent I guess, is to not make those mistakes again.”

“You speak truth and wisdom. May God keep you by my side for as long as we want.”

“Amen, baby.”

“Thank you for… Well… Half-forcing me to do this. I realise that I should have done it long ago.”

“How d’you feel?” Mundy asked. 

“Better, lighter in a way.” Lucien wiped a silent tear. 

“Hey, you sure you good?”

“Oui, it is not tears of sadness. It is… The intensity of all this. Finding myself in the Ritz again, but this time, not on duty, not for business, just for our enjoyment, the breakfasts, lunches and dinners here now taste so much more flavourful, I never realised that their food was exquisite. I knew it but I never felt it as much as I have in these past few days. And the outings with you, seeing the sights, guiding you through Paris, telling you her story. It is better than a dream come true.”

Mundy smiled compassionately.

“Lu’?”

“Oui.”

“Happy first anniversary.”

“Oh…” The Frenchman dived head first into his lover’s chest and let the tears run down his face. 

“It’s ok, Lu’, I’m here.”

“This is why you wanted to take me to Paris?” Lucien pulled himself out of his lover's embrace.

“Yeah, for our anniversary.”

“Je t’aime, Mundy.”

[I love you, Mundy.]

Lucien took his handkerchief out and wiped his face. 

“Je t’aime aussi, mon Lucien.”

[I love you too, my Lucien.]

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Dincobb Week Day 4 - AU/Freebie Day (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have just one story and it's SFW. It's the second of the three linked stories (SFW, SFW and NSFW in that order - but the two SFWs can stand alone if you prefer not to read the NSFW one).

AU/Freebie Day - I chose Drunken Home Ear Piercing (as a free choice, not an AU)

People have idiosyncrasies when they get drunk. Din’s noticed that, mostly as an onlooker, because his principles for most of his life didn’t allow for social drinking. He’s never been one to drink alone either — given how much he was alone, it seemed like a fast track to pickling himself in alcohol — so he’s mostly just watched, feeling uncomfortable because he can’t participate and people either think he’s a killjoy or that he must have some deep dark personal reason for not drinking, when it’s just the practical fact that you can’t keep your face covered and drink. So when he came to stay with Cobb, broken-hearted and bare-faced, he kind of crashed into drinking far too much too fast, and paid the price with a sunburn that took days to heal and made the whole affected area peel like tattered white lace.

“Passes out in the blazing sun and half cooks himself” was a pretty stupid drunken idiosyncrasy, definitely worse than “decides he can sing” or “wants to get into everyone’s lap” or “starts planning a revolution” or the other quirks he’s observed in the people he’s known over the years. He’s managed not to make a habit of it. With a bit of guidance from Cobb on knowing when to stop, and drinking to enjoy the experience, not to blot out how awful you’re feeling, the tendency that seems to be developing is just “easily talked into things.”

Cobb is generally the one talking him into things, and fortunately so far they haven’t been too troublesome — dancing with him was nice, obviously, and the pancakes eventually peeled off the kitchen ceiling after they tried to make midnight breakfast and he didn’t know his own strength flipping them. Neither of them can really remember what they were hoping to accomplish by digging that pit out the back of the house but there was a very muddled drawing on a scrap of paper on the living room floor labelled, as far as they could make out the next day, AWESOME SWIMMING POOL. The less said about the lawn chair incident the better, but they both walked away from it, somewhat unsteadily.

That’s not Cobb’s idiosyncrasy so much as the effect of the two of them being otherwise sensible and competent men who for some reason get a little bit dumb when they put their heads together. His thing is that, by contrast with the many people who find their calling as a stripper when tipsy, he starts putting things on. He keeps darting into his bedroom and coming back to show Din this great hat, or a big coat he found in a thrift store, or how many sweaters he can put on at once, or the jacket with the fringe which swings out when he goes like this (which coincided with the dancing). This evening it’s his best suit, another second-hand find which probably predates the Empire and features not only fringe but embroidery. He parades around the living room enjoying the attention, since Din is suitably impressed, before dumping himself down on the couch next to him again and taking a long pull on the drink he abandoned to go and get dressed up. As his head tips back Din notices something shining and looks closer. Cobb has an earring, a yellow gold sun in his right earlobe with a rose gold sun hanging from it on a tiny ring.

“Hey, where’d you get that?” he asks, trying to touch it without pulling on it.

“Oh, that? Found it in the jacket pocket when I got changed. I thought I lost it dancing at Tracy Dunerunner’s wedding last winter. Must’ve just dropped in there by luck.”

“It’s so pretty.”

“Why, thank you.” Cobb tilts his head to let him admire it better. “I only really wear it for special occasions. Thought the hole might’ve closed up, but it seems okay.”

“You should wear it more. It looks good on you,” Din says earnestly. “I wish I could wear stuff like that.”

“Why can’t you?”

Din blinks at him, befuddled. “Don’t have pierced ears,” he says.

“Well how the heck do you think ears get pierced, dummy? You gotta pierce ‘em. I’ll help you, I’m good at this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s easy. C’mon, the best light’s in the kitchen.”

So without quite intending it he’s ended up sitting on a kitchen chair with Cobb wiping his right earlobe with alcohol and then rubbing it with an ice-cube to numb it. That feels really weird and it makes him wriggle around so Cobb sits on his lap facing him to hold him still, which feels weird from a whole different angle.

“Okay,” says Cobb, flourishing a sharp darning needle, “I’m ready to operate. Got you a nice little earring to start off with.” It’s sitting on the table after a dip in a shot glass full of rubbing alcohol, a plain silver stud, like a moon to Cobb’s suns. “I’m gonna need you to hold still for me, okay partner? Real still, because if you pull we might just tear your earlobe, and it’ll heal but who wants to deal with that?” He’s cut a piece of potato for Din to hold just behind his earlobe, so when Cobb sticks the needle through quick and hard the point will go into that instead of the side of his neck.

“I can hold still,” Din says, although his heart is beating fast and his numb earlobe is already starting to feel warm again.

“Okay,” says Cobb. He rubs the ice-cube over his ear again, making it sting and tingle with the cold before it grows number. “On the count of three, one, two,” and he stabs the needle through right then. Din gasps in shock and no small amount of pain, ice or not, but he manages to keep still. “That’s great,” says Cobb, “just a little bit more now, hold on for me, hold on,” and with slippery fingers from ice and blood he pulls the needle free from the potato and then manages to fumble the stud post through the raw new hole and get the back onto it. “Woo!” he cheers, raising his arms in the air. “That looks great!” He grabs the little shaving mirror from the kitchen table and holds it up for Din. “Take a look!”

It’s hard to get a look at his own ear in the small mirror but Din makes it out; there are bloody fingerprints on his neck and ear that make the whole thing look kind of gory but there’s the little silver ball shining in his earlobe, and it really does look great. A big smile breaks out on his face as Cobb wipes and dabs the blood away with a damp cotton ball, and then touches the fresh piercing and the pain is so sharp he yells “Fuck!” right in Cobb’s face. Cobb starts laughing and apologising and laughing more.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, sorry, at least it wasn’t alcohol, right?”

“It was alcohol, that’s the point,” says Din.

Cobb glances back over his shoulder at the unfortunately identical-looking shot glasses of water and rubbing alcohol and says “Whoops. Well, it’s clean.” His voice turns gentle and coaxing. “C’mon, you’re okay, right? A big strong man like you?” He strokes Din’s jawline as he admires his ear, and it’s pretty hard to stay angry. The pain has changed from a stab to a hot throbbing, and when he holds the melting ice to it he feels some instant relief. Cobb’s looking at him with such a lovely smile, and he finds he wants to earn more of that.

“You think you could do the other side too?” he asks.

[taito-division]

🌙 - Eldrid

🌊 - Fleuret

🐟- Azusa

"My list of favorites?" Eldrid blinks and then smirks. "Well, I don't wanna give away too much info, but I can tell you some things. For food, I absolutely love Schweinshaxe! For those of you who don't know, its essentially just roasted ham hock, which is the end of a pig's leg. I could probably go an entire month eating nothing but that until I get sick of it!"

"For my favorite season, I'd have to definitely say Winter. Yeah, its cold as fuck outside, but that just makes it good weather to get out and exercise. And besides that, have you ever sat down in a lake in the middle of winter? Its so freakin' invigorating!" She says, laughing heartedly.

"Let's see... my favorite color... probably red, and I mean like a dark shade of red. Don't ask me why. It's just something about red that gets me invigorated. No surprise, really. Red is a dynamic color, meant to get you excited." She says, smirking.

"Let's do one more before we wrap this up. Let's see... my favorite drink! Of course, its alcohol! But as for what kind, without a doubt, Jägermeister! I can drink that for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even desert! Its not ideal for getting you drunk, but you can get a pretty good buzz off it... at least, I can!" Eldrid laughs out loud at her joke.

"On my days off, if he's not busy with his... coéquipières, I'll often head over to Yokohama and spend time with l'homme que j'aime, Rio. He and I often talk about what is going on each other's lives. He'll often regale me with some of his old war stories, fighting alongside my father. It's always intéressante listening to him." She said, smiling.

"If Rio is busy, then I'll often hang with Azusa and Eldrid, if either of them have time. If they are busy, I'll usually head home and either watch mes jeunes frères et sœurs for my parents, or read some novels. Either some my father's collection, or my own. I'm actually in the middle of a novel written by Gentaro of Shibuya. It's very entertaining!"

"I don't really remember much of time as toddler, I'm afraid. From what my father tells me, I was pretty much like I am now: very quiet and strange." Azusa shakes her head, laughing softly. "As a child, I would always watch my father train his students in our dojo. He wouldn't let me join, saying I was 'too young' or 'too little'. At the age of 10, after months of begging, he finally relented and let me hold a kendo stick." Azusa looks down at her hands, reminiscing.

"I remember the moment of having it in my hands. It was so heavy, I couldn't even lift it up above my head." She laughs. "Eventually as I got older, I got stronger and more disciplined. My father once told me that I was the living carnation of Tomoe Gozen." Azusa laughs again, before stopping, sighing sorrowfully.

"As a teenager, I was pretty much the same. Unfortunately, my teenage years are when things started going downhill for our dojo. And that's also when my mother disappeared and my dad got sick. It was after that he handed over ownership of the dojo to me. Me, a 19-year-old just out of high school." Azusa smiles, though its sad.

"I did my best to stick to my father's way of teaching and his principles. Unfortunately, it was during that the the "H. Era" started, and people started ditching their swords for microphones." Azusa shakes her head. "As for what I'll be doing in the future, who knows? If there's two things I've learned in my 24 years of living, its that tomorrow is never promised, and that anything is possible."

[lessonsat30]

Lesson 6: Get out of here with your "guilty pleasures"

The idea of guilty pleasures is stupid. Why should you feel guilty for liking something? Just because it's not "mainstream" (or on the flip side, especially in the metal community, because it is mainstream) doesn't mean you should hide that you like it.

I'm finding that things I used to consider guilty pleasures, especially when it comes to music, are beloved by a lot of people. All the music I found fun but hid that I listened to because it was deemed cheesy (I'm not just talking Elton John and the Spice Girls, but MCR and Linkin Park et al too) is making a huge comeback and I realise it was stupid to pretend I didn't like it just because other more pretentious twats looked down on it.

I've still working my way through Ville's list - the playlist is still over 110 hours long and that's after removing any songs I've listened to and didn't like. It's going to take me a long while to listen to everything. But every time a song pops up by an artist I know he'd describe as one of his guilty pleasures, I get a huge smile over my face. It shows a different side to him than the one he gave off on first impression. The things we like are part of what makes us us. Don't hide them from the people you care about. 

Think about it. When a friend whose into something a little unusual or unexpected mentions it, do you judge them? OK, depending on how try-hard you were in your youth, you might have made some bitchy comment when trying to fit in with the "cool crowds", but we don't anymore. That shit just isn't important as you get older. 

Case in point, I have two friends who are both into D&D. I know nothing of the game, but I love hearing them talk about it (even if I have no idea what theyre talking about) because they clearly love it so much. When people are really into something it doesn't matter what they're talking about, their enthusiasm is still infectious. 

I don't really follow sports, and I definitely don't follow ice hockey, but one of the best phonecalls I ever received was when Finland beat Sweden in the world championships. I was vaguely aware of the final beforehand, but was woke  at about 1 in the morning by a call from Luka. I had no idea what was going on, but could make out a load of cheering and chanting. Then Luka spoke, saying "Can you tell Ville is happy we won?" before a load of rustling and then Ville shouting "I LOVE FUCKING YOU! I MEAN I LOVE YOU! SUOMI! SUOMI! SUOMI! SUOMI! JEEEEEEEEEEEE!", screeching like a fucking banshee. The next morning I saw the photos of them celebrating and it was wonderful to see, even if I didn't quite get it. I've never watched ice hockey, it doesn't interest me, but their enthusiasm rubbed off on me and I was genuinely over the moon to hear their team had won. 

I'm going off on a tangent here, but recalling it makes me laugh so much, so humour me. That call was just so unexpected. Ville and I spoke several times a week but I didnt talk to Lukas much, except to update each other on what was going on with Erik. Seeing him call in the middle of the night I thought something bad had happened, I wasnt expecting a drunk call like that. I took the piss out of them both about it afterwards. Ville got all embarrassed and ashamed and it was entertaining to keep teasing him over how smashed he'd gotten, especially because he didn't remember it. Lukas, on the other hand, was no fun. He brushed off the taunting with typical curtness, saying he'd only called because Ville had said they should, trying to downplay his own enthusiasm. But I saw the photos, Ville wasn't the one celebrating with a bunch of strangers on the roof of a bus stop...

I'm not just talking about games or sports either. My friend's PhD thesis was around sexual psychology and specifically, although I can hear him telling me off for being so reductive, the ethics of sexual monogomy. We used to have some really fun evenings chatting away over dinner with a couple bottles of wine. It was great to be open and have intellectual conversations about those kind of things, especially with someone who was clearly so passionate about it and wanted to share his knowledge and theories.

I have a hobby that is unusual for someone my age and has a bit of a stuffy image. Since I started being a bit more open about it and not hiding it, I've had several people ask me about it and I've been surprised at how interested people are. I'm not going to go around boring the socks off everyone but it's been nice to be able to share my hobby with friends. 

It's like with kids, you can't help but find it cute and endearing when a little one gets excited about something they love, even if it doesn't make sense to adult minds. My daughter is currently obsessed with the moon, and seeing her get so excited every night when she spots it in the sky is genuinely one of the highlights of my day. I don't know what it is, but that kind of pure and innocent excitement is just infectious.

If you have a passion for something, don't hide it. Don't hold back. Others may not fully understand your hobby but they'll be charmed by your fervour for it. You only to see how the world has reacted to that trainspotting tiktoker Francis Bourgeois to see that. This is real life not school, there is no "cool crowd" anymore.  Love what makes you happy and don't be ashamed of it. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Proper Profanity.”

WARNING: Obviously this contains a lot of profanity, lol duh :) 

Hopefully it’s at least entertaining

Dr Krill was cleaning the infirmary.. He didn’t mind cleaning, it left his mind time to wander, to think more about the humans. Today he was thinking about linguistics and the complicated way in which humans spoke to each other. It was actually quite beautiful once you stopped being annoyed with it.

He had recently compiled a list of human idioms he found rather delightful. He especially liked ‘when I am ice skating in hell’ not only did it require knowledge of human theology, but also of human sports. Plus it was a great way to tell people no.

Made him want to wriggle a little inside when he thought about it.

Now that he had gotten the use of idioms. He was starting to think about the use of human exclamations. There were so many, he hardly knew where to start.

He was so distracted with his musings that he ended up knocking over a stack of bedpans. They fell to the floor with a clatter before spinning across the open ground.

He looked down and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to try out some of his new exclamations. He wasn’t entirely sure how they worked, but you didn’t get anywhere without trying, “Shit hat!”

He stared at the bedpans trying to determine what he was feeling at the moment.

He didn’t have long for his pondering as Dr. Katie poked her head out of her office. Behind her large square glasses she looked more than a little confused. Another head peered around the corner, and he was surprised to find the captain staring at him with a bemused expression. The door to the far end of the room slid open and a group of marines peered inside.

Hmm, perhaps he had done something wrong.

“Did you just say, shit hat?” Dr Katie wondered glancing between him and the captain.

“That’s what I heard.” he said stepping out from inside.

“Did I do something wrong?” krill wondered in bemusement.

The marines laughed, “What were you even trying to do/”

“I was trying to use an angry exclamation.” The doctor explained 

The captain walked over to sit on the edge of one of the beds staring at Krill with a critical eye, “Well, it was a good effort, but not exactly right.”

“What do you mean.”

The marines walked in to sit with them as did doctor Katie.

The captain shook his head, “Well Krill, you see cursing is a very delicate art, you can’t just throw them together like that. For instance what you were trying to say was likely either ust shit, or ass hat. You can’t just throw them together. Shit would have worked, but in this instance ass hat wouldn’t have.” 

“I do not understand.”

The captain cracked his knuckles, “I will demonstrate, let us first begin with the word ass

Ass/arse = your pretty much just calling them a donkey at this point

Ass hat = refers to a person who is usually stupid or annoying 

Ass wipe = a general insult for someone you don’t like 

Dumbass = an idiot

Asshole = someone who is mean or rude 

Smartass = can be a term of endearment, but otherwise it might be used as a term for someone who is sarcastic or a know it all 

Fatass = someone who eats a lot or is also fat 

Ass face = another general insult, but this is specifically an insult and a comparison on their face to someone’s butt.

So what you were doing doesn't exactly work because you  use ass hat is an insult for a person and not an exclamation.” 

He looked around at the others to make sure they agreed with him before continuing, “our next word is damn.

Damn = can be used as an exclamation of anger in general.

Daaaaaaaaammmnnn = is for general awe, like if I saw someone do something really cool.

Damnit = another exclamation of anger generally a bit higher than just damn 

God Damn it = is just a little higher than the previous two, but implies that you want the creator himself to come down and damn the thing that you are cursing.

As a general side note, you can use damn for inanimate objects.

Damn you = is similar but usually directed towards a person. The equivalent of telling someone to go to hell or flipping them the bird. 

Damn it all = We ramp it up a bit here. You just don’t want to damn the object, but you want to damn everything.

Damn it all to hell = see previous but more specific 

Hot Damn! = this is another good exclamation. You just saw something really cool or someone who is really hot, or something that you really want.

I don’t give a damn = is the fancy way of saying I don’t care.

Are you following me so far?”

Krill nodded eagerly doing his best to remember all of this on such short notice.

“Good, now we get onto another one which I am slightly less familiar but I will try

Bitch = used to mean a female dog, but now sort of means someone who is a coward or pathetic in some way.

Bitching = to complain 

Bitch ass = not entirely sure, but if i say to get your bitch ass over here, I don’t have respect for you, though it is often used as a term of endearment between women 

Bitchboy = calling someones masculinity into question

“Ok now we get to my favorite word shit, so beautifully versatile, but it means that you have to be careful because each one has a different connotation.

The noun Shit = literally means excrement but can be used as an exclamation of displeasure. It can also replace stuff or things. Like where’s my shit

To shit = a verb means to take a dump

The adjective shitty = means something really sucks

See, a little more versatile than before, now.

Shitter = a toilet or the location where the verb takes place

A shit = is exactly what it sounds like.

To take a shit = is the same as the verb 

I don’t give a shit = I don't care kind of like I don’t give a damn

I won't take this shit = means I am not going to put up with you 

Bullshit = information, generally a lie or something that is conflated or untrue 

Batshit = is a modifier to someone who is insane, it generally means they are really crazy

Shitthole = a place that is really horrible or dirty 

Shitstain = general insult for a person you hate

Shithead = see above

Shitfaced = really drunk

The shit = something or someone that is really good

Hot shit= same as the shit

You think you’re hot shit? = generally a challenge to someone who needs to get off their high horse.

A piece of shit = means you suck or your a lowlife 

Shitload = a lot of 

To lose your shit = to go crazy or get really mad

To be on someone’s shit list = means they don’t like you

My shit = it's mine my stuff my property

Your shit = your problems and I don’t want them 

Add an animal in the front  like chicken or horse to denote a situation or information that you don’t like. This is horse shit for example.

Shit hits the fan = things get real 

Shoot the shit = to talk with someone on a social level 

He knows his shit = means he’s smart on a certain topic 

You don’t know shit = you don’t know anything

To give someone shit = you .”mess with them or to give them a hard time

Dipshit = an idiot

I am honestly cutting back on the amount of uses in this situation because if we continued this, it might go on too long.

Kril leaned in a little, “how fascinating. I had no idea one word could be so diverse.”

The human leaned in, “Than you are going to love this next one 

Fuck = sort of an upper escalation of shit. I don't know if the noun means anything really but the verb technically means to do it.

Fuck that = I am not going to do that there is no way in hell 

Fuck you = I hate you go die 

Fuck it = might as well just do this thing regardless of the consequences 

Fuck me = an exclamation of annoyance. Kind of like how could my life get any worse. Generally used when things aren't going your way. Of course you could use it in it’s literal translation as a command form or a question.

Fuck it all = another exclamation kind of like damn it all 

Fuck this shit = generally a screw this thing or activity specifically 

Fuck this = see above but less intense 

Fuckery = like what kind of fuckery is this. A question used to ask about some sort of unsavory activity.

Fuck off = telling someone to leave or go away angrily.

Fucnking hell = just an exclamation

Fucking shit = also just an exclamation

Generally you can put fucking in front of any other curse word noun and you got yourself a good insult hell, damn et. etc 

Fuckwit = an idiot

Fuckface = general insult like shithead 

I dont give a fuck = i dont care

I dont give a flying fuck = i really don’t care

Thats fucked = that is screwed up 

Hes fucked = hes screwed as in a situation specifically

Lets get fucked up = lets go get drunk or high

Lets fuck him up = lets beat him up 

Well…. Fuck = an exclamation of distress 

A fuck ton = larger than a shitload 

If you get fucked over = you’ve been used or betrayed 

And the classic a motherfucker = sort of just a general term for someone, but I  want to say it definitely implies someone is having sex with their mom

Fucktard = an idiot. 

Krill looked on in fascination and delight, “Holy shit!”

The captain blinked and then grinned, “There you go, now you're getting it. Totally forgot about that one.” He patted Krill on the back, “Now go forth, be free in your newfound knowledge and the glorious art that is cursing properly. Make sure not to use it too much though or in certain types of company because it will either cause you problems or lose it’s power. Like for instance, don’t curse around my mother or she will kill me for teaching you. Don’t curse around superior officers unless they curse first, and even then try to avoid doing it too much. Got it.”

Krill nodded.

He was so excited to apply this new rule of human language

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Odi et Amo II

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior  

Catullus, 85

After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and  accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?

pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

genre: actor au

warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 5764

A/N: It was supposed to be published last week, but I was unhappy with it and ended up rewriting it/adding some things. Sorry! (*_ _)人 P.S Sorry for my grammatical errors! Enjoy!

Chapter I

***

Currently sitting in front of your manager you eyed him. He seemed tired and you felt a pang of conscience it was probably because of your tweets last night and you wouldn’t even think of meeting him if you weren’t in dire need of getaway from the uncomfortable conversation with your neighbor. You didn’t meet in your agency’s building since both of you despised the place even though it was a new and flashy building made out of something that looked like a white marble. Both of you agreed on meeting outside it, so you were sitting in the café nearby while wondering how did your shitty boss manage to rent it. Last time you’ve been here, it was a few rooms in shabby, old building. You shivered while imagining going in, that place had an evil aura even from across the street.

"Where did you get all that money to rent it?" you asked.

"We actually bought it." 

"Well, business goes well then."

"Actually we are only able thanks to your movies. Don’t tell Kim Pd-nim I told you, he thinks you'll become arrogant."

"I already am." You smiled coldly.

"That's what I told him."

Your manager had a sarcastic smirk on. Both of you and hated your CEO and even mentioning him would bring up unpleasant memories. Kim Sanghoon was one of those bosses who wouldn't even think about trying to help idols and stars that were bringing him money. No matter what it was — crazy fans destroying your life, death threats, your collapsing mental health he didn’t care. Once you were attacked by media and netizens you were on your own and if it was too much for the company your contract was terminated. You often wondered when would you become too much for them to handle.

"How do you feel?" Your manager caught you off guard, even though you had known each other for a long time there was an unspoken rule between you not to talk about other things than work.

"Honesty..I'm fine I don't understand why everyone asks me that." You huffed a bit irritated and run fingers through your hair. 

"Well it's just.. I know it was important to you and you worked hard to earn the hearts of your Korean fa..."

"I'm fine." you didn't manage to hide irritation in your voice. You were not used to talking about it and you didn't like it one bit. Besides what were you supposed to say anyway? No one else was as hated as you. Of course there were idols and stars that were occasionally criticized but not one of them was constantly a target of such hatred. Even when you left there were still death threats send from your motherland to you, nothing changed. Not to mention no one else got such welcoming on the day of return to their home. It was unfair, stupid, infuriating and saddening. And yet you couldn’t understand what people were expecting of you? Both Mark and your manager knew you, or so you thought. What were you supposed to do? Cry? You wouldn't cry, that was what weak people do, that would show you actually care about what those assholes think about you. You were just fine. Ok. Neither sad nor happy. You'd endure whatever you had to but you won't conform to their image of idol and woman nor will you show any sign of weakness. You'd rather stay hated than do that. Your manager sighed and it pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Well then. If you're okay then I'm glad. So just as I told you I have this drama for you if you're interested." You weren't the slightest bit. Frankly you'd rather stay in bed for the next three months jobless than play some crazy villain or villainous second female lead. Then again you felt bad about the amount of work he probably had because of you. You looked him in the eyes and answered with a sigh.

"I can't promise anything but I can at least listen what it’s about.." Your manager seemed surprised, but he didn't wait long, perhaps in case you'd change your mind. He took out some papers and handed them to you. You cringed on the sole title "Love is your destiny" — it sounded sappy. 

"So it's a love story between fallen angel and this human..." he started.

"Angels...so who do they want me to play? Satan? Devil? Succubus?" You browsed through pages to find the villain.

"You'd know if you'd let me finish." You sent him a small apologetic smile. "They want you to play the main role." You stared at him confused before you burst with laughter.

"They want me to play cute girl in love with the angel?" The idea of you playing the sweet female lead was absurd, not that you weren’t able to do it, you were a good actress it wouldn’t be a problem for you, if anything it would most likely be a challenge for the audience.

"No, no! You'd play the angel. See this is drama with strong female lead. The origin of your character is fascinating. You had to watch the mistreatment of a woman extremely devoted to god. The lady prayed, but she still got beaten, almost killed even. Moreover, you had to be the guardian angel of her torturer — the aggressive husband. You pleaded to god, you asked him to let you guard her instead, but he didn’t agree and forbade you from intervening. One night when the husband got drunk, he beat her unconscious and you were sure he’d kill her. You decided to save her, you kill her husband and this is the moment when you fell. That's when you became deviant and promised yourself you'd help those who were denied it. You’d protect them and avenge them. Fast-forward a thousand years, and we are in Seoul and you meet a man, a painter..." He was so excited you almost didn't understand some words because of the speed. He was waiting for your response but you were too occupied with reading what he handed you. Once you finished it you looked at him with a mix of surprise and excitement.

"It's like it was made for me.." you said with bewildered tone.

"That's because it was made for you. The screenwriter wrote it with you in mind." You looked like a cartoon character, eyes wide, mouth in a shape of letter "o", once you heard him.

"Me?"

"Yes. She is apparently a big fan."

"And tvN is ok with that?" You furrowed your brows confused.

"Perhaps they aren't. But it is co-production with Netflix, and they pushed for you since you’re popular worldwide." 

Your heart fluttered and the tips of your fingers tingled from excitement as you rummaged through the pages once again, not only it would be showed in TV during the prime-time but also streamed on Netflix weekly.

"The screenwriter and producer kept calling me since yesterday as soon as it was known you came back. They almost cast someone else. They were sure you're staying in the USA. Isn't it amazing?" He was as excited as you were and you felt some remorse for being so rude to him before. You gave him your warmest smile, one you usually used only around Mark and your family.

"It really is. Thank you and I'm sorry for being rude earlier." He was clearly uncomfortable with your apology, red spreading on his cheeks as he waved his hand dismissively.

"Ah don't mention it. Does that mean I can call them and say you are interested." You looked at the pages in front of you once again and smiled broadly before simply saying.

"Yes!"

Jinyoung was still amused you threatened him in his own café. He couldn't focus on the book he had in his hands anymore as he chuckled replying your angered and irritated expressions in his head. It was fun to tease you because you reacted so well. He could tell you could be great friends if you'd let him. He smiled to himself mouthing your own words "bloody Y/N". He was truly shocked that he met you here of all places and found it rather amusing when you yelled in English and caught his attention. He felt some disappointment upon seeing a half naked man talking to you from the screen of your phone but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came up once your friend ended the call. Jinyoung wouldn't call himself a noisy person, but he found you interesting, and he wanted to know who it was and what kind of relationship you had although he rarely cared for stuff like this... His thoughts were interrupted by his ring-tone, BamBam's face illuminated the screen. He sighed but answered it anyway.

"Skrrrt, skrrt!"

"Ah yes, good morning to you to Bam." Jinyoung said in amused tone.

"Oh, hyung you seem in good mood. What you're up to?"

"Reading, thinking."

"Sounds boring wanna hang out?"

"Actually I wanted to ask you about something." Jinyoung ignored his question once he remembered how obsessed with celebrities and their styles Bam was.

"Shoot."

"Do you know any celebrities under the name Y/N." BamBam laughed wholeheartedly.

"That's very funny hyung."

"What do you mean?"

"OMG you're not joking! Are you living under a rock, hyung? Y/N is like the hottest actress ever. Her style is chic and comfy and artsy it's really cool, and she actually doesn't have a stylist, she does it on her ow..."

"She is an actress?"

"She is the actress! She played the White Fox in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Lol, you call yourself an actor and you don't know the most popular Korean actress abroad."

"You know I don't like those superheroes movies. Besides why didn't I hear about her Korean career if she's so good?"

"You are so old it scares me sometimes. Well you should know her from internet. I think it's national sport to hate her or something. She just came back, and they're already frying her online not to mention the media and dating rumors."

"Dating rumors?"

"Yeah she dated few actors. I think Seojoon hyung dated her and Changwook hyung even almost proposed. The media made her to look like heartless vixen though. I mean they never liked her but her last ex gave a very unfavorable interview to dispatch and after that she became villain number one. She left shortly after."

"Mmmm... I see." Jinyoung only started his career four years ago so it shouldn't be weird you've never met before. He was also the type of person who couldn't care less about internet gossip and gutter press or dispatch. He sighed. Suddenly your angry reaction made much more sense and Jinyoung didn't feel as good about it as he did before. He scolded himself for being too frivolous and selfish. He just wanted to see your reactions - it was cute and funny...

"Why did you ask? OMG you've met her didn't you. I'm so jealous. What was she wearing? Was it Gucci? I heard she likes it."

"Ok Bam. I have to go. Thanks for the talk."

"Wait, so you wanna hang out?"

"Last time when you asked me to hang out I had to shop for 4 hours with you."

"Well... I am your stylist. Besides, it was fun, come on." 

"I think we have different definitions of "fun""

You woke up to no noise pleasantly surprised. It seems that Sunday's were free from renovation and thanks to that you could sleep in. You stretched out and grabbed the phone to check the time. It was already past eleven. You smiled to yourself and fell to bed lazily. Soon you wouldn't have time for lazy days like this as the production team was supposed to finish up casting for the drama by the end of the next week. You thought about picking some groceries, maybe cooking yourself some food and enjoying the day with a book or perhaps some video games. You took shower and put on some comfortable clothes — beige cardigan you stole from Mark clearly too big for you and some black trousers pairing it up with brown coat. You left the apartment and as soon as you did the irritating voice in your head reminded you about your debt. Hesitant at first you shook off the feeling quickly and knocked on the door. This time you were prepared for teasing, you were expecting it even so you wouldn't be caught off guard. At least that's what you were telling yourself. Your neighbor, however, didn't act the way you expected him to. Instead of smirking at you and teasing you or straight up mocking you, he seemed nervous. He had deep purple bags under his usually sparkling eyes. Perhaps he didn’t feel well... you wondered whether you should ask him if he needed some help. You decided it would be extremely awkward and so you cleared your throat and spoke up — softness now somewhere in your voice.

"Is that bad time? I can come later I just wanted to give you back your money.."

"N-No." He started nervously "I mean no. It's fine. I'm actually glad you're here. Would you come in?"

You didn't want to come in and it must have shown on your face since he continued.

"Come on. I don't bite." He smiled warmly and it seemed much more normal than the timid self he showed you seconds ago. And so you came in curiously looking around his own apartment. It was a mirror image of your own in terms of room placements — a hallway leading to living room with opened kitchen. You came into the living room and Jinyoung rushed after you quickly turning the TV off. You didn't pay it any mind since you were looking around and taking in how different was his home compared to yours. It was very modern and yet it kept the homey feeling. Yours on the other hand, well it was raw yet full of stuff? Mark would probably call it unfinished and cluttered. Your neighbor sat on the other side of the couch leaving quite a lot of space between the two of you and run a hand through his hair. He wore a cardigan very similar to yours both in color and style in fact it could be the very same brand and style it’s just neither of you noticed it.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to apologize." He responded quickly and gained a surprised look from you.

"Apologize?"

"Yes about yesterday…I shouldn't have said those things in public I could say I just didn't know about your situation but it’s no excuse. I’m truly sorry." he paused. "You don't have to be stressed about press or rumors though. It is my café and my staff, so they won't talk about it with anyone I took care of it." You took back everything you said, you weren’t prepared for meeting him, especially not getting apologies from him. On top of that he was the owner of your favorite café...

"I… it's fine." You said confused and tried to act as normal as possible while being very aware of your palms spread on your thighs. They were unnaturally clammy. It was a surprise to you, you rarely got any apologies and you were expecting some more teasing not something like that. Your eyes were everywhere except on him and you were screaming at yourself internally to say something, anything, but nothing was coming to your mind. Once again you lost your ability for forming witty sentences around him or in that case any sentences. There was awkward silence between you and you immensely regretted coming to see him today. You weren’t used to this. Somewhere in your belly you could feel as if butterflies - or rather moths — yes, moths of anxiety were fluttering their wings desperately trying to get into your chest. You never felt like this before. You tried to avoid looking at him but your own eyes betrayed you and fell on Jinyoung only to find out he was enjoying your anguish. His brown eyes were glimmering and his lips formed half smirk that he tried to cover with his left hand in a gesture of propping his head up. Immediately irritation came to you burning all the fluttering wings in the pits of your stomach. A frown formed on your face and you send him a glare. Wondering how could you be so stupid and fall for his act.

"You're really cute when you're shy or embarrassed." He chuckled now mocking you openly.

"I can't believe I took your apologies as sincere." He chuckled again clearly pleased with how you responded.

"They were sincere. I just enjoy teasing you."

"Could you stop? That's inappropriate you don't even know me."

"What do you mean we are neighbors and soon to be friends." He smiled broadly and for a second your mind travelled somewhere else simply admiring his beauty. You cursed his handsome face it could blind and charm everyone really. You wanted to leave, no you needed to leave. It was stuffy in here.

"I'm here for a reason." You reminded him, he was watching you with amusement. It felt almost as if a cat was observing you.

"Ah right... money." his tone seemed inattentive somehow. "I don't need it. Let's say it was a part of my apology."

"Just give me your account number and take the money."

"I don't remember it." You were getting more irritated every minute you talked to him.

"You don't remember your account number?" This man was unbelievable. He shrugged.

"You can send it to me through KakaoTalk if you really want." He smiled and took out the phone from the pocket of his pants. 

"Fine. Just give it." Not wanting to spend any second longer here with him, you scanned his qr to add him quickly and transferred the money.

"Done. Now if you excuse me."

"Of course." He smiled again and you felt mocked by the sole action of his lips shooting upwards. He walked you to the door and watched as you slipped on your shoes. You tried to look as cold and dignified as possible but still tripped over the doorstep. He caught your arm firmly and straightened you. Your heart was beating so fast and hard all you could hear was blood pumping in your ears in fact you were sure he could hear it as well. On the other hand whose heart wouldn't when you almost fell face first, right…? Right? It surely wasn't because of his warm breath now tickling the crown of your head, nor the dangerously beautiful eyes... you absolutely regretted coming here today. It was foolish of you to think your cursed neighbor wouldn't shake you up today. And he was still holding you — how awkward is that; and you felt fine with being hold like that — what on earth was wrong with you? You started to think that maybe it would be better if you'd actually fell and hit that stupid head of yours.

Jinyoung was having very dangerous thoughts. The kind he didn't have in a very long time. He wasn't prepared for this kind of proximity. He was already shaken up yesterday by your touch and closeness he only held your hand for a second or two. Maybe he didn't show it but he was. Honestly he wasn't even into PDA or flirting with someone or even thinking of flirting with someone. Yes, he liked teasing, and he teased you but it was in a FRIENDLY manner. Well it was safe to say he didn't have friendshippy type of thoughts right now. Jinyoung reacted automatically upon seeing you fall he just grabbed your arm and pulled you his way. He was still holding your now tensed muscles, but he couldn't let go of you. He was in trance. Your warmth radiating onto him, the way the smell of your shampoo was tingling his nose, your huge doe-like shocked eyes, parted lips, soft pink on the apples of your cheeks. He was wondering how badly would you kill him if he asked to kiss you right now. He was seriously considering it worthy asking even if you were to pull out his tongue like you threatened yesterday. He didn't ask though, the rational part of his brain finally letting go of you. His own feeling were mess, but he did what he knew best — he masked his emotional disarray with some more teasing hoping you wouldn’t notice.

"Falling for me already?" He smirked even though internally he was screaming and already thinking of confiding in Jackson to get himself calmed. He was clearly the one falling and he was panicked. You rolled your eyes on him seemingly gaining the composure while he was getting stunned even by such simple gesture like this.

"You're way below my standards." You seemed annoyed. He smiled again although he wanted you to leave quickly and leave him alone with his feelings, so he can sort this out. Your eyes narrowed at him even more.

"I need to go now."

"Well, have a great day."

"Right, you too." You were so cold Jinyoung almost chuckled at it because it almost wounded him, and yet he liked it. He enjoyed teasing you too much. You were already walking to the elevator, but he couldn't help himself.

"Oh, and try not to fall when I'm not around to catch you, Y/N." He laughed and you were already frowning at him absolutely mad which made his heart skip a beat, you were really too cute when you frowned. Jinyoung closed the door before you could say anything or worse before he did. He realized he was in deep shit. He tried to think reasonably. He probably just had a crush because he spent a whole night watching movies and dramas you were starring in, he might have also accidentally watched all of your interviews and went to sleep at 6 still smiling to himself from that interview where you had to answer questions about your body in preparation for your role in that Marvel movie. The reporter wouldn't stop asking about your body and making comments on it even though you were clearly uninterested in the topic which you finally cut with your own questions. "Are you looking for some weight loss tips? You look great. Seriously what is it about? Are you trying to fit in my suit?" The last question was asked with whole whisper theatrics and Jinyoung laughed at loud at five am hoping he didn't wake you up through the wall. The suit in question was extremely fitting white leather catsuit. It wasn't the only interview in which you showed off your wits, eloquence and badassness, or how Bam would call it "swag". You were also the most attractive actress he had seen. Of course, you were also attractive when you weren't acting but on the screen... you were amazing. So Jinyoung tried to calm himself down rationalizing his earlier thoughts as simply being starstrucked. That’s what fans felt towards their idols, he was simply charmed by his own new idol. Yes that was it — that’s exactly the type of thoughts some fanboys or fangirls would have. He called Jackson anyway, he knew the designer was the right person to talk to in situations like this. 

Twenty minutes later Jinyoung regretted ever calling his best friend.

"OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO IN LOVE WITH HER!" Jackson basically yelled to the phone. Jinyoung groaned and massaged the space between his brows. 

"Were you even listening? I'm just a big fan."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night man. I’m a big fan of Christian Dior and all I can think of is making out with him." 

"Don’t compare it, he is dead!" Jinyoung yelled and his friend filled his ear in response.

 You were regretting not taking the car for shopping. The walk did help with your racing heart, and helped ease off your mind but it turned out the supermarket isn't that close any more when you have to drag home ten bags of food and products. Thankfully a convenience store was on your way so you could make a stop there maybe you'd be lucky enough to see Seoyun, buy her coffee and have a chat. You knew it was stupid, because she could've just feel obliged to say she is your fan but you still wanted to tell her about your new upcoming role. Sadly she wasn't there and so you just made a stop and sat on one of nearby benches. Massaging your palms that had those harsh red lines imprinted in them now thanks to the bags. You could swear you heard the sound of released shutter and so now alarmed you looked around but it seemed you were the only person here. You sighed, how paranoid have you become that you started hearing the cameras when there was none. Then again you were extremely lucky dispatch and paparazzi haven't found you yet. Just before you left to the USA, your ex gave this interview and your life became hell. You didn't have a day without paparazzi running after you or spying on you. The memories came to you not without acrimony and hurt. Your ex, an actor just like you, used you to create scandal and gain some popularity. You could remember how enraged and morose it made you. You didn't date anyone since then even when Mark tried to introduce you to some people. You intended on staying that way. You didn't need anyone, you had Mark, and he was enough for you. Just you and your best friend. You weren't sure how long you stayed like this, deep in your thoughts. You moved only after you fingers became stiff from cold. Somehow you managed to carry the groceries back home. You were so tired that you just counted it as your training today. You checked the time and it was one PM, perfect time to call your bestie.

"Markiee!!" You whined as soon as his face appeared on your screen.

"Y/N-ah. I miss you." He was wearing some blue hoodie this time.

"That's my line. Do you have time to talk?"

"Bruh, for you? Always. What's up?" 

"I am going to star in a drama!"

"What? I thought you hate those." He was genuinely shocked.

"I know, I do. But this one is different. I'm not playing the villain I got female lead, and she isn't some damsel in distress she is a badass character!" You almost screamed and he chuckled.

"Woah. Someone's excited. I'm so proud of you. So who is getting the privilege to be cast with you?"

"I don't know yet. I'm supposed to meet the cast next week." He nodded his head and smiled. "Anyway what are you up to?"

"I was actually thinking of playing Among Us and streaming wanna join?" He grinned.

"Absolutely, prepare to get wrecked Tuan." You used to play together at least once a week when you were in the USA, his fans loved you and shipped you even though you both told them you were just friends — it is some rule in the internet though, to ship close friends.

Few hours later you were once again killed as the first person, this time by Mark.

"YOU GONNA REGRET IT WHEN WE’LL MEET TUAN. I SWEAR I’M GONNA WHOOP YO ASS..." You screamed on top of your lungs and Mark laughed wholeheartedly, while his chat filled up with hundreds of LOL’s and LUL’s.

"You guys she threatens me. Someone make a clip and send it to the police once they find my dead body." He kept laughing and you couldn’t help but laugh as well. His smile and laugh were just too contagious.

"You really put our friendship to test lately Tuan, here I was foolishly trusting you when you killed me in cold blood. " You stretched and your stomach rumbled reminding you that you haven’t eaten yet and it was already around four pm.

" Hey don’t hate the player, hate the game. "   He shrugged and winked, while you rolled your eyes.

"Okay Mark, I gotta go and eat. It’s already afternoon here."

"Sure, chat say bye to Y/N." They did as he asked and it was soon filled with many hearts and goodbyes. "Love you Y/N! Call me soon." He grinned and you smiled warmly.

"Love you too Mark. Bye guys!" With that you logged off the discord, and switched off his stream. You make your way to the kitchen and took out the ingredients for kimchi jjigae you bought before. You carefully read the recipe opened on your phone and began cooking. You had to make anchovy stock first so you grabbed some dried anchovies, kelp and slashed the daikon in cubicles — it looked quite awkward as each cubicle was different size but hey it was you eating it not some kind of culinary critic. You added water and left it to boil deciding to take care of the rest of ingredients. You cut some kimchi and ate some as a snack and reward for not ordering food today, sliced some green onions, cut the pork and the tofu as well. By the time you were done it was time to strain the broth and add the rest of ingredients. It had to cook so you decided to watch some TV in the meantime. You turned it on, it was some kind of reality show where idols were supposed to camp in the wild for a few days. The idols clearly didn’t feel like being there and the fact you knew neither of them didn’t help. You dozed off before you noticed, your eyelids getting as heavy as iron. The smell of burning woke you up. You shot upwards from your couch and rushed to the kitchen, bumping into a coffee table on your way there.

"FFFFFF-UUCK." you hissed, when your shin pulsed with pain. You quickly grabbed the pot with stew to get it off the fire, forgetting it would be hot as well. You hissed in pain and let id drop on your marble floor which was now covered in burned kimchi and some other things. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking shit." You cursed as you tried to navigate to the sink to ease off the burn with some cold water. The cold water did help and you sighed with relief only to later follow it with a sigh of resignation. You had to clean up this mess. It was when your phone barked — a new message. You checked it.

From Unknown number: Are you trying to burn down the whole building?

You furrowed your brows confused, wondering if it was one of those jokes or spam messages you heard about.

To Unknown number: Who’s this?

From Unknown number: Guess.

You huffed in disbelief.

To Unknown number: Ok, enjoy being blocked.

From Unknown number: Wait!

From Unknown number: It’s Jinyoung.

To Unknown number: How did you get my number? Never mind I’m blocking you I’m too busy to deal with you.

With that you put the phone back in your pocket and began cleaning up. You finished in no time now tired out by scrubbing. You sat on the floor and took out your phone to check it out. From Unknown number: Don’t block me what if you need my help one day.

To Unknown number: With what exactly?

From Unknown number: What if you get stuck in your bathroom and need someone to let you out?

You rolled your eyes and saved his contact

To Devil: There is at least 7 billion more people I’d rather ask to help me

From Devil: Ok then what if I get stuck in the bathroom and need your help.

To Devil: I’d leave you there

From Devil: Heartless

To Devil: Better tell me how did you get my phone number

From Devil: You gave it to me when you scanned my kakao code

You were bewildered, was that his plan from the very beginning or were you just paranoid? You were either prejudiced or he was in fact the devil with angel's face.

To Devil: Did you lie about not remembering your account number?

From Devil: Maybe

You couldn’t believe it, the audacity, the smugness. You could feel irritation building inside you but you decide to let it go when your stomach rumbled at you aggressively. After eating you took shower, read a few chapters of The Vegetarian and fell asleep.

Next week passed quickly but in the feeling of anticipation as you were supposed to meet the rest of the cast as well as the scriptwriter and director at the meeting on Friday. You kept calling your manager throughout the week trying to find out who could they be, but he didn’t know anything or didn’t want to tell you. And so you spent the week on training, running, reading and occasionally calling Mark to express your impatience and excitement. You didn’t meet your irritating neighbor even once this week — something you counted as blessing or perhaps a sign that the universe finally turned your karma around. It was finally Friday and you were already sitting in the meeting room waiting for everyone to come in. You smiled at the young man sitting next to you, he was really cute and had this mole under his right eye it added to his charm. He was about to introduce himself, when someone came through the door and greeted everyone cheerfully. You couldn’t believe it. You were cursed, actually cursed.

"YOU?!" was all that left your mouth upon seeing him entering the room.

[spidernerdsblog]

Love Is The Biggest Spell : Chapter Four

A/N : Chapter four is here. I know I'm late with the updates blame it on my lazy ass. A near death experience and a heartbreak triggers the witchy side of yours as the day of you getting back your powers approaches near. Hope you like this chapter. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome. Happy Halloween!

Pairing : Warlock Tom Holland x half mortal reader

Summary : Witches are forbidden to fall in love with mortals. But what if your long lost love returns to you as a mortal, can you defy your heart? Any spell any magic seems useless in front of the magic of love. Let's join our lovers in their magical conquest beyond life and death as they fight for their love unravelling dark mysteries of the past along their way.

Warnings : just witchy stuff.

Mini Playlist : Secret love by Little Mix

The song ended and you were brought back to reality. You slipped away from Tom's embrace averting your gaze.

“I think I'm drunk enough for today.” You smiled awkwardly face flushed red. 

"Yeah, you should go home now it's already quite late. I can drop you if you want." He offered. 

"No it's fine I can go with Jane."

"Okay then goodbye."

"Yeah goodbye and be safe." he cautioned. 

"Yeah I will." Giving him a tight lipped smile you went to the counter where Jane was sitting and watching you both the whole time. 

"That didn't look like your boyfriend." Jane quipped. 

"Shut up" you scoffed. 

"Where is he by the way?" 

"Probably drunk somewhere. Can we go now?" you paid for your drinks and headed back to your home. You both walked down the street giggling while gossiping about your life problems.

“You know you can’t string along to both of them, you have to let one of them go.” Jane said out of nowhere.

“I'm not stringing along anybody.” 

“Yes you're Cole has always been your backup plan if things didn't turn out well with your other flings. Think about it carefully Y/N. Stop wasting your time in a relationship that has no love in it” You listened to her quietly because it was true you were confused and had no idea what to do. You reached the crossroad from where one path leads to Jane’s house and the other to yours it was time for you both to say goodbye.

"See you tomorrow at the shop. Give me a call when you reach home" Jane said

"Yeah bye." You waved her a goodbye and continued walking. The road to your home brushed past a short stretch of the mystic forest. It was quite late so the road was pretty isolated. It may appear a little scary for the weak of heart but the dark never scares you. You enjoyed it's mysterious anonymity. But tonight it was different because tonight someone was waiting for you, hiding behind the veil of darkness lurking around those huge trees with your death sentence. 

"There she is. She does look like Amber." Laura remarks. 

"She is Amber, Laura." Angourie rolls her eyes. 

"Let’s finish the job we came for shall we?" Zendaya said with a menacing look in her eyes. Three of them held on to each other’s hands and chanted the incantation closing their eyes. 

"Vos omnes ministri odey et destructiones et seratore discorde. Et qui libiter opera facitis et tractibus, quod eat noce. Vos conjurae idec nos conjuo et odit fiat mier alve, Y/N." 

"Coming back in a mortal's body, poor choice Amber." Zendaya tsked sighing. 

"Let's see how many days this weak body of yours can sustain." She gave a devilish grin. The spell started doing it's job as you suddenly started to feel a little dizzy, stumbling a little while walking but you somehow managed to reach your home. Next day you weren’t still feeling any better but went to the cafe anyway. 

"You look like shit, everything ok?" Jane quipped pointing at your tired appearance. 

"Yeah I’m fine just a mild headache, still a little hungover I guess." You said busy wiping the counter. 

"So what’s the plan for Halloween?" 

"What are we five that we will go trick or treating?" 

"No but you are turning 25." Jane reminded you. 

"I don’t know, I just don’t feel like celebrating, birthdays have become really boring for me." You shrugged. 

"Hey girls." Your two new regular customers walked in with a jovial smile on their faces. 

"Hey," you said weakly. 

Jane and Harrison went for a kiss which soon turned into a passionate one. 

"Ugh! Guys get a room." You scrunch your face disgusted. They pull away laughing. 

“This is exactly how I felt when I used to be stuck between you and Cole.” Jane giggled. You scoffed rolling your eyes.

"So what’s up?" Harrison chirped 

"Nothing just that our girl is turning 25 this Halloween and she’s been a buzzkill because she doesn’t want to celebrate it." 

"Your birthday is on Halloween?" Tom's eyes lit up. 

"Fascinating isn't it? The spookiest birthday one could imagine."

"It's indeed special and this year there is going to be a blood moon on the night of Halloween which occurs every 25 years." 

"There’s still time for my birthday guys and before that we have our decade dance at the college. And the theme is the good old 90's" you sighed with content. 

"Yeah the minimalist era, quite liberating." Harrison agreed. Meanwhile Jane noticed something as she looked at you with a worried face. 

"Y/N your nose, it's bleeding." Tom and Harrison's attention shifted to you. 

"What?" You raised your finger and swiped it near your nose to find blood on it. 

"Are you okay?" Jane placed her hand on your shoulder with concern.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Wait let me see." Tom cradled your face with his large calloused palms surprising you with his sudden move. 

"Did something like this happen to you before?"

"Not that I remember." You looked at him totally weirded out. He let go of you, realizing that he was making you uncomfortable. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sleepy." You closed your eyes, holding your head sighing.

"I think you should go home and take some rest. We can drive you home." 

"No it's fine I'll be ok." 

"Y/N don't be stubborn Tom is right, I'm here I can handle it for today."

"Okay let me go and change then." You went back to the store Jane accompanied you. Tom turned to Harrison. 

"It's a blood curse." 

"But who did this?" 

"There's only one who I know is capable of doing this actually three." Tom ticked his jaw frowning. 

"We need to break the curse or she will grow weaker."

"A regimen of salt water baths and reversing candles over the course of a couple weeks would do the trick. But the problem is she doesn't believe in these things and will think we are crazy."

"Then we have to find someone whom she will listen to without saying a word.''

"It has to be her mother. Haz once we take her home whenever you get the chance use compulsion on Mrs. Warren and compel her to  persuade Y/N to follow the ritual. I know it's wrong but we don't have any other option."

You walked out changed from your uniform to your normal clothes Jane was holding you. 

"C'mon love I got you." Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder and took you to his car. He made you sit in the back seat then he sat beside you. You leaned your head on his shoulder closing your eyes as Harrison drove the car. The whole drive Tom had his hand wrapped around you in a comforting manner as he frowned deeply with concern in his eyes. Reaching your house he helped you get out of the car and carried you inside. 

"Oh my God! What happened?'' your mother panicked. 

"She wasn't feeling well." Tom informed. 

"Take her to her room." she ordered. 

"Sure Mrs. Warren." Tom carried you to your room. 

"Sorry but who are you guys?" Martha directed her question to Harrison. Before he could think of an answer Erica answered for him.

"They are Y/N's new classmates, aunt I have already met the other one you weren’t here that time."

"Oh I see thank you for bringing her safely back home."

"Oh no need to thank us she is our friend it's our duty to look after her."

Tom made you lay down on your bed tucking you inside your blanket and gently stroked your forehead as you fell asleep. After making sure that you were sleeping soundly Tom got up and went to your bathroom and dipped his hand in the water of the bathtub swirling it in a circular motion and chanted. 

"If truly she is cursed today, let water wash the hex away. If truly she is cursed today, let water wash the hex away.'' 

He stepped out of your bathroom  and saw Harrison standing beside your bed. 

"Job done." Harrison reported to Tom. 

"Yeah I also enchanted the water now only she needs to take a bath as soon as she wakes up." 

"I think we should go for now."

"Yeah I also have some unfinished business to attend." Tom looked at you for one last time placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

"You will be as bright as the sunshine tomorrow, my love. I'll never let any harm come your way in future." Saying that he left with Harrison. 

"I’m not leaving them so easily Haz. They are going to pay for what they did to Y/N." Tom grumbled while he searched for a perfect spot in the forest to execute his plan. 

It was around evening Laura was strolling in the forest. An eerie silence prevailed; only the distant calls of coyotes could be heard in short intervals. Tom and Harrison were hiding behind the trees waiting for Laura to approach the exact spot where they wanted her to be and the moment she was at the spot. 

"Abi in malem cursem." Tom muttered.

"Aaaahh!!!" Laura screamed in pain as she felt something pierce her foot holding her to the ground the more she struggled to set free the more it hurted and blood came gushing out her foot. Tom and Harrison appeared from behind the trees.

"Tom what the heaven!! Why are you doing this to me?" Laura cried out in pain.

"You know very well why!" He barked.

"We did what was needed to be done, that half breed doesn't deserve to be alive. She's a disgrace to our community."

"If she doesn't deserve to live then so do you!" Tom focused on the trap which doubled up the pain making Laura scream on the top of her lungs. 

"Tom let go of my sister!" Zendaya yelled panting as she came running to her rescue.

"Give me one good reason for not doing the same to you." he spat. 

"Tom have you gone out of your mind! You will go against your own kind for a mortal?" 

"You know very well what I'm capable of Z which includes draining every ounce of blood from Laura's body."

"The coven will not spare you."

"So will you for trying to kill an innocent girl and you know the punishment Z."

"You're not gonna do that, are you? She asked in disbelief because in spite of the sour relationship with the mortals the coven had set rules against hurting innocent humans. 

"Oh I might take this matter to father but I have a better offer. Let's make a deal I leave her and you have to do what I say." 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"You are in position to question Z. Just say yes or no."

"Okay fine, I'll do whatever you want me to do. Now let her go." 

"Good." 

Tom mumbled a reversing spell which set Laura free from the trap. She collapsed on the ground holding her foot Zendaya ran to her aid. 

"And stay away from Y/N because next time I will not be this generous." he warned and turned to leave. 

"You are making a grave mistake Tom trying to protect that weakling.'' 

"That’s none of your business Z.'' 

After you woke up your mother under Harrison’s compulsion made you complete the curse removal ritual, you were now sitting in your bathtub body dipped in salt water surrounded by numerous scented candles with an utterly bored expression on your face.

"I'm never going to get drunk again." You muttered to yourself picking up an extinguished candle in your hand from beside you. You zoned out eyes trained on the wick of the candle and suddenly the candle caught fire, you snapped out of your daze as the flame flared in its intensity. 

"Holy shit!!" you shrieked dropping the candle in the water panicking. You blinked a few times holding on to your head. You tried to convince yourself that you were just tired and seeing things as you got out of the water hurriedly. 

..............

The next day you were fresh as a daisy, full of energy. You went to visit your dad at the registrar in the morning. 

"Hey dad what's up?" 

"Nothing peanut just editing and stuff with the articles." 

"Can I help?" 

"Yeah sure why not this is all gonna be yours after a few years anyways." You sat on a chair and started arranging the articles in order. 

"This case is really blowing my mind though!" Fred blew out his cheeks in agony pacing back and forth in the room. . 

"What case?" you frowned. 

"These." He placed some police investigation reports on the table in front of you. You examined each of the reports. 

"People going missing in mystic woods, what's so tricky in this?" 

"Observe the pattern of the incidents it's always once in a month and the place of disappearance all near the Runeshire winery which are jointly owned by the Holland's and Osterfield's. I suspect they have something to do with these missing people."

"Holland as in Tom Holland?" you questioned him. 

"Yeah how do you know him?" 

"He is in my class." 

"What?!" 

"Yeah he and his best friend Harrison joined our college a few weeks back. But they seem to be really good guys."

"Appearances can sometimes be deceiving, always remember that Y/N."

"If only I could get access inside their estate and try to find some evidence." He mumbled. 

"I can do it for you. I have books to return to him anyways." You offered. 

"Honey they are kind of shady. I can't allow you to go there all by yourself."

"I'll be fine dad. Tom is a good friend of mine and I trust him. And I also believe they have nothing to do with these cases. But for your satisfaction let me go and check they will not suspect anything if I go so just tell me what I need to do." and as per your father's instruction you were now standing in front of the Holland's residence. 

Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. You walked inside admiring the surroundings at its threshold stood the delicate marble fountain, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding silence. It was a big mansion more like a palace from Victorian times quite old which gave out some eerie vibes. You took a deep breath gathering some courage and rang the doorbell. The door opened and a young boy appeared from behind. He was most probably in his teens and shared the same facial resemblance to Tom. Must be one of his brothers you assumed as you introduced yourself.

"Umm Hi I'm Y/N Y/L/N. A friend of Tom. We are in the same class. I came to return these to him." You showed him the books.

"Who's it Paddy?" You heard a male voice enquire from inside.

"Umm one of Tom's friends."

"Which friend?" Harry walked to the front door and a wave of shock coursed through his face seeing you as if he saw a ghost. His eyes were slightly widened still trying to process what he was seeing.

"Hello." You greeted the curly haired brunette timidly.

"Oh hey! Y/N!" Harrison chirped from behind breaking Harry from his daze.

"Hey Haz." You finally felt relieved seeing someone familiar.

"Come in!" 

"I thought you would never ask." You quipped giving a quick glance to Harry and Paddy. Harrison led you inside the house and you were stunned at the grandeur of the interiors. The house was stashed with exquisite and expensive articles each item worth hundreds of thousands of dollars you thought. 

"Is this a living room?" you questioned in disbelief looking at the size of the room.

"Living room, parlour whatever you want to say." Harrison half shrugged. 

"Dude two of my houses could fit in here." You chuckled.

"Tom's in the shower you can wait here or I can take you to his room if you want." he gave a sly smirk. You understood the reference a sly smirk forming on your face as well. 

"No thanks I'm fine waiting here Harrison anyway I had some work on this side of the town so thought to stop by and return his books that's all." 

"As you wish." he shrugged. 

"I heard we have a very pretty guest in our house." You turned to look at a red haired middle aged woman, a warm welcoming smile adorned her face. 

"She is Tom's mother." Harrison whispered in your ear. You straightened yourself. 

"Hello Mrs Holland nice to meet you. Sorry for dropping in without prior notice didn't mean any trouble."

"It's totally fine dear. It's good to meet you."

"And I really want to thank you too for lending these books. They came really handy with completing our assignment." 

"I'm glad they came into good use." Her eyes twinkled as her gaze shifted behind you. 

"Oh Tom! look who is here." You turned to find Tom coming down the stairs. 

''Hey Y/N" he said breathily. His eyes sparkled seeing you all bubbly and cheerful after last day’s incident.

"Hi Tom." your heart fluttered as you soaked in his freshly showered appearance. He looked so radiant in trousers and a black shirt sleeves rolled up giving quite a view of his strong veiny arms, his hair slightly wet beads of water dripping from them. He smelled good which intoxicated your senses. You shook off your thoughts and spoke up. 

"Just came to return these sorry for not calling you beforehand." Before Tom could say something you were interrupted by another male voice. 

"That's fine dear you are always welcome at this house." You turned to find a middle aged man. It wasn't hard for you to deduce that he was Tom's father. Tom was having a hard time at your sudden visit to his house because nobody knew about you as well as of him venturing out to the mortal world in search of you. He gulped nervously seeing his father. 

"Let me introduce myself Dominic Holland, owner of Runeshire winery and Tom's father."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Holland." You gave a wide smile. 

"Tom why don't you go and give a tour of our winery to your lovely friend."

"Sure-sure father." Tom stuttered. 

"Come with me Y/N you'll love it.”

Tom gave you a tour around the whole estate. You walked past some picturesque vineyards chit chatting about his family history and how they started this business. Then he took you to the warehouse where their intoxicating delicacy is being produced and stored. Lines of barrels of wine stacked together a fruity aroma looming in the room which itself gave away about its best quality.

"And this is what we make our living out of." Tom announced proudly as you looked around intrigued.

''Come with me, I'll show you something" He showed you a wooden door which led to a secret cellar downstairs. 

"You sure you aren't going to kill me for dropping by your house unannounced?" you joked looking at him skeptically. He rolled his eyes and shook his head smiling. You followed him downstairs. The cellar was filled with more barrels of wine. 

"These are the finest wines of our winery aged to perfection and only reserved for the family and inner circle." 

"Great!" 

"Wanna taste?"

"Am I allowed?" 

"You are kind of an inner circle now, so yes." He shrugged. He went to grab two wine glasses and ran the tap from the wine barrel to fill the glasses. He handed you one. You clink your glasses and take a sip from it.  You never had anything like this before in your life, the rich taste just touched your soul,

"Mmm this. is. so good!" you praised.

"Here." He handed you a bottle of wine.

"What's this for?" you knitted your brows. 

"I went to your house that day empty handed, not a nice impression in front of your parents I guess." 

"You are not my boyfriend Thomas." You narrowed your eyes smirking.

“But son of the owner of the Runeshire winery kind of against our reputation.” he grinned.

“Okay I’m taking it.” It was time for you to leave your job of sneaking around them was done and you were more than relieved that you didn't find anything suspicious.

"It was nice having you here wish you would have stayed for lunch."

"I would love to but not today I promised my mom to return early. Maybe next time. Bye then see you later." 

"Bye love." He walked you back to the front gates and bid you goodbye.

Tom entered his house blushing smiling to himself you just made his day  but the happiness was short lived because he was met with questioning stares from his family wanting explanation of what just happened. 

"So when did you plan on telling us?”

"Father, I just thought it wasn't the right time."

"How can you be so irresponsible, Tom , going into the mortal world? and you took Harrison with you too." 

"Father it's Amber I had to go."

"I know you have a soft spot for her but she is a mortal."

"Half mortal father, she is a half witch too."

"That doesn't change the fact that she is not one of us, mortal blood runs in her body she will age and die eventually one day. What will you do then?" 

"Dark baptism." Agatha interrupted in between. 

"What do you mean Lady Layman?" 

"Get her baptised in the name of our Dark Lord, I’m sure he will grant her powers and she will be just one of us."

"She would never agree to this." Tom said dismissively. 

"Then you have to make her agree to this Thomas or else you have to forget her forever." Tom's father gave him an ultimatum. 

..............

Tom and Harrison were sitting in his room thinking about what to do now as Zendaya appeared.

"Well well all this hush hush to keep her a secret gone to waste. Guess what Amber just blew her cover herself oh sorry Y/N was it?" Zendaya jabbed. 

"Z for once in your life can you stop being a mean bitch you are?" Harrison scoffed. 

"Aww can't my ex would be fiance's lady love do this much for him? oh sorry my mistake she already has someone else in her life."

"Are you done?" Tom asked irritatedly. 

"Because I think it's time for you to do what I said." 

"What do you mean?" Zendaya frowned.

"Did you forget about the deal we had? It’s time.'' 

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing you don’t like. Just need to see how good your seduction skills are." 

"You are not serious are you?" Tom just stared coldly and she got her answer.

"Okay fine." 

It was the day of the decade dance at your college. Everybody dressed themselves taking inspiration from the 90′s era neon colours, halter neck crop tops, slip dresses, skater dresses, button down shirts, drainpipe jeans etc. You were sitting alone at the bleachers because your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen after he left you to get some drinks. You watched Jane dancing having fun with Harrison. You felt happy that finally she found her the love of her life.

Secret love playing......

“What’s with that long face?” Tom quipped.

“None of your business.” you snickered.

“To that I would like to remind you that I'm always ready to be your boyfriend’s replacement.” He offered. You arched a sly brow at him.

“Shall we?” “Okay fine.” you sighed holding onto his hand.

When you're with him, do you call his name Like you do when you're with me? Does it feel the same? Would you leave if I was ready to settle down Or would you play it safe and stay?

You weaved your fingers into his long slender ones another hand holding on to his shoulder. His other hand went to hold you around your waist swaying sideways to the music.

Girl, you know this We got a love that is hopeless

Jane's words kept replaying in your mind. “You can't string along with both of them you have to choose.” but you can't be unfaithful to Cole. He doesn't deserve this. It is a passing affair you will get over it, you have to you thought. You witnessed the lifestyle Tom is used to and you are no match to him. So thinking of a thinnest possibility that you can be together is futile. 

Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

Tom was happy for a reason. After tonight one of the bonds that's keeping you tied up to this world will soon be torn apart. The only remorse he feels is that you will get hurt in the process. He is being selfish he knows, he was always selfish when it came to you. But he knows whatever is going to happen is for your own good. You promised him you would come back and that is what he is doing bringing you back to your real self, to him. The music stopped and you stepped away from him.

"I think I should go and find Cole its being quite long he didn't return." 

"Yeah sure." You went to look for Cole but he was nowhere to be found. The only place left for you to check was terrace on the West Wing. You went their and saw Tom walking back from that direction

"Hey!" you called out .Tom was startled at first then he questioned you back. 

"Hey where are you going?" 

"To see if Cole is there or not. I couldn't find him anywhere.'' 

"I think you should not go there." 

"Why?" 

"Uh nothing just some couple making out quite passionately, really weirded me out.” He chuckled.

“let's go inside Y/N, Cole isn't there." He ushered you back to the hall.

"It's okay I don't feel awkward with  people making out. I'll quickly just go and check." 

"But Y/N! Wait!" Before Tom could stop you the damage was already done. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. It was Cole with some girl, their lips practically glued to each other, tongues slipping into each other's mouth moaning and panting. You felt disgusted at the view. Never in your life you thought that Cole will do such a thing to you. Jane was right you were wasting your time on him. All this time you were questioning your moral compass for having feelings for another man and he turned out to be the unfaithful one. 

"You bloody cheater!!" You spat. Cole was startled as he broke the kiss bug eyed to find Zendaya smirking devilishly at him wiping the corner of her lips with her thumb. 

"Who the hell are you?!" He pushed her away. He looked between you and Zendaya in confusion. 

"But- but how can this happen? It was you then where the hell she came from?." 

"You fucking Liar! Just stop with your good act already" you snarled

"Y/N I swear I don't know where she came from." Cole grabbed onto both of your hands desperately trying to make you understand but you were overcome with anger as you pushed him hard. 

"Go to hell!" You stomped off from there with Tom following you. 

You were fuming with rage. And getting drunk you thought was the last resort to get over this heartbreak. You walked up to the drinks counter and started gulping down shots one after the other. You felt that wasn't enough for you as you took a whole bottle of vodka and started drinking from it. 

"Y/N wait no!" Tom snatched the bottle from your hand. You glowered at him angrily. Which made him step back from you in fear, your eyes scared him. They weren't your usual eye color instead they were replaced with burning red hot fiery orbs. He remembered Helena's warning about not to instigate you and the dangerous consequences it can lead to. He quickly hugged you, caressing the back your head soothingly and pecking your forehead. 

"Ssh, Ssh It's alright love.”

“I don't know what's happening to me.” you mumbled face buried into his chest.

“There's nothing to get upset about, calm down, everything will be fine. He doesn't deserve you. I'm here don’t worry" He whispered sweet nothing in your ears trying to cool your temper. You eventually were back to your usual self making Tom heave a sigh of relief. But you were still drunk as you were blabbering random shit. 

"That's enough for today we should go home now." He dragged you out to the corridors. 

"No!" You snatched your hand from his grip. 

"C'mon love, don't be so stubborn let's get you home. You are not in your ownself." He frowned. You walked up to him stumbling a little looking at him with doe eyes. Tom hold on to you trying to steady you down.

"Has anyone ever told you how ridiculously cute and handsome you are?" Tom found the drunk you cute and funny as he played along.

"Yes, you Y/N 25 years ago." he chuckled. 

"Really?.. Then did I kiss you after saying that?" 

"No, Y/N."

"Then I definitely owe you a kiss, my cutie honey bear." You grabbed his face with your hands pouting your lips to kiss him. 

"Y/N you are drunk we should not do this." he pulled his face away.

"Why not? If that moron can kiss someone else, why can't I?" you whined.

"And I know you want this too, what do you think I don't get why you're always there around me? We girls know way before when a guy is interested in us." Tom gulped nervously and suddenly you felt nauseous as you threw up near the bushes outside the corridor. After you were done your body was totally drained out Tom picked you up in princess style and carried you back to his car and took you home.

Tom carried you his hands across your body as you leaned onto him. He rang the doorbell and Erica opened the door. She tsked rolling her eyes seeing you in such a disoriented condition. Without a word she motioned Tom to take you inside. He carried you to your room and laid you on your bed and then stood outside the room so that Erica could change your clothes. Erica came out after a while. 

''You have kind of become a body bearer." Erica chuckled making Tom smile. 

"This is what I was warning you, she is a little impulsive when she gets upset. Thankfully uncle and aunt are not here to see her like this" she sighed. 

"She's just angry. Cole shouldn't have done that." 

"Thanks for looking out for my sister." 

"She's a good friend of mine" 

"Oh C'mon stop with the good friend act already, I know you like her."

"Uh no, no it's - it's nothing like that." he stammered. 

"You really think I'm gonna buy that." Erica arched her brow. "That longing stares, that mutual pining I have gone through it all at one point of my life honey, I know." 

"Gonna say your goodbyes?" She asked. Tom scratches the back of his neck unsure of what to say.

"Go ahead." Erica said assuring him. He walked inside your room and sat beside your sleeping figure. 

"Hey darling." he cooed softly placing his hand on your cheek gently brushing your hair away from your face. You looked so innocent and pure which melts his heart. 

"Sleep well and I'm sorry for tonight." he turned to leave but felt a pull in his hand as you sat up grabbing on to his wrist. 

"Stay. Pleaase…" you made a sad face. And how can he leave you like this. Without a second thought Tom got in the bed lying down beside you. You snuggled close to him resting yourself on his broad chest holding on to his hand. He cradled you in his arm gently threading his fingers through your hair. He stared at you intently. His face dropped as he sighed deeply, a sense of guilt growing in him. Because he was the one behind your bitter fallout with Cole. As per their deal Zendaya with the help of glamour spell turned herself to look like you and lure Cole out. Poor Cole never got the slightest hint that it was Zendaya who was dancing with him the whole time not you. 

"You're being extra clingy tonight Y/N." Cole chuckled. 

"Not my fault if my man looks extra delicious tonight." You said with lust blown eyes. 

"Just wanna savor onto these tender lips" you kissed him fervently. And then dragged him out of the hall to the terrace and grabbed onto his shirt slamming your lips to his devouring him. But alas if he would have known that he is being tricked so that his image gets maligned in your eyes. So that you start hating him and break up with him.

He knew whatever he did today was wrong he hurt you but your bonds with the mortal world had to be broken because as soon as they will come to know about your true identity they will try to kill you and he won’t let that happen this time. And after what he witnessed tonight, the slightest hint that he got of that your powers are soon going to come back was enough for him to know that he can't risk it anymore. The door was open as Erica came in to check up on you and found you two all cuddled up. She tapped on the door gently with a smirk. Tom was snapped out of his thoughts as he hastily tried to sit up. But Erica stopped him waving her hand and mouthed to him. 

"It's ok.. Take care of her." he nodded smiling. Erica went away closing the door. Tom sighed, turning his attention to you, still gently stroking your hair and closed his eyes dozing off to sleep. After so many years he is finally going to have a good night's sleep in your warm embrace . 

……….. 

You squinted as the sun rays hit your face, fluttering your eyes open. The sheets were cold as you got up to an empty bed. You went downstairs and heard some noise coming from the kitchen. You made your way to the kitchen to find Tom cooking breakfast.

"Am I still drunk or my sister turned into you." You joked. 

"Good morning." 

“Morning” you yawned. “Didn’t know you were a chef too. I'm a horrible cook by the way.” you chuckled.

“Yeah Tom offered to help and I couldn't refuse the offer of getting one day off from cooking duties.” Erica chuckled from behind. You went up to her and whispered in her ears.

"Why is he here?" 

"Because your clingy ass didn't let him go. Thank God your parents are nit here."

“You let us sleep together on the same bed?” you seethed.

"You know he seems to be a nice guy." 

"Seriously I just broke up with my long time boyfriend last night and you are trying to set me up with another guy the next day?"

"And I’m glad you finally broke up with that dumbass. And I also know you secretly like Tom. C’mon I’m just being a supportive sister."

“You're unbelievable” you scoffed and went back to the kitchen 

"Hey I don't remember much of it from last night but if I did or said anything wrong I'm sorry."

"Hmm apart from trying to kiss me and almost puking on me it's ok I don't mind." your face turned red in embarrassment.

“It's okay darling, glad to know that you find me cute.” he handed you your breakfast giving you a subtle wink mischievously.

“That cheeky bastard” you thought.

…………………………………………………………………..

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Taglist: To be added send a message or ask I'll be happy to add you in the following chapters.

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*eye emoji* @kingsten

"Are you nervous?" Brian asks, as a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

Peter laughs, giving a nod. "Yeah."

Peter's situated on top of Brian's lap, both their shirts thrown somewhere haphazardly on the floor. Neither of them are drunk, but they have the kind of buzz lovers give each other; colored in the kind of red and rut of being in such close proximity of each other.

"Why are you nervous?" Brian brings his face closer, even closer than he's held it before. He searches for Peter's eyes, looking beyond his gaze and really holding it there as if he wants the answer from their exchanged glances, not even from his lips. Peter looks away towards elsewhere until he can't quite run from it, giving into Brian and letting him consume him from the inside out.

"I... I don't know. It... it feels different." Peter mumbles. He breaks their gaze once more, and instead creates a bit of distance between them for a moment.

"Bad different?" Brian asks, his hands now settling at Peter's waist again. His thumbs brush over the exposed bit of his skin, tracing circles along his hip bone, mindlessly. Everything Brian does to him is habitual, without thought and natural. And everything he does makes him cave, bit by bit.

"No, a good different. But still... different."

"Should we wait?" Brian leans back a bit now too, with the same smile on his face that has yet to disappear. He's handing over the choice back to him again. Peter hates the way that Brian looks hone even in this given moment, faultless and just breathtaking.

Peter gives a firm shake of his head, before closing the space between them again. He places their foreheads together, closing his eyes for a moment. In the moment, Brian watches him carefully and again, doing what he does so habitually — reveling in every bit of detail of Peter that only he gets to see from so close. Everything from the little, tiny freckle along the outline of his jaw to the short baby hairs right by his ears.

"I want you." Peter says, making sure he hears it.

"Good." Brian replies.

He immediately presses their lips together again and goes further to meet their tongues together, messily so. It's Peter that has to break it a second time just to breathe, and instead of waiting, Brian slips over to Peter's neck, pressing a bunch of fleeting kisses there. It elicits a certain sigh from Peter — the kind that made Brian a bit more impatient.

Peter's hands start sliding down Brian's chest, then his abdomen, until it settles on his jeans. Even without looking, he helps him unbutton them, tugging down at the zipper. Peter's hand slips in, his palm pressing over Brian's boxers, feeling over him until Brian lets out a grunt.

Brian's arm naturally reaches out for the drawer by the lamp stand next to them, taking out a few condoms and bringing one over to start to rip open.

"Don't... don't take it out." Peter exclaims, taking the packaging from Brian's hands, and placing it back on the counter. Brian, looking a bit baffled watches him, not understanding. "I mean... I mean, I don't... I don't want you to put it on." Peter says, a bit shyly almost. "If that's okay."

Brian's eyes turn from being bewildered to being dazed, and he doesn't respond for a while. This makes Peter anxious instead, wondering if he shouldn't have said anything or given the suggestion. "I mean, I just thought it would be nice to—" Peter doesn't get to finish, as Brian shifts the both of them, with Peter now laying on his back with Brian hovered over him.

Brian positions himself and ever so slowly pushes in, his eyes never leaving Peter's face to take note of his reaction. He feels Peter tensing up beneath him, until he places a palm by his hip bone, caressing the outline of it there. He also places a kiss by his collarbone, tracing it until he feels Peter begin to relax, letting him in more and more.

"Are you okay?" Brian asks, sweet and caring even during this kind of time. It's written in his furrowed brows, full of concern. Brian's kissing him now, and Peter wonders how he could possibly pretend to care about anything and anyone else when he's got his dick deep in him.

"I'm fine." He mumbles, still kissing Brian. Brian chuckles at the way Peter's lovely stubbornness is right up against the corner of his lips. "Just move slowly..." Peter places his hands onto Brian's shoulders, quickly adding, "... please." He's whining a bit now, just extremely needy of Brian, and everything he's not giving him at the moment.

They move a bit off sync to start with, then find a rhythm together, more so guided by Peter. Peter supports himself by using Brian's shoulders still, and Brian's got his hands grasping around Peter's back, with a firm grip.

"Fuck." Peter hisses in French, the one to break first, with a voice starting that's started to shake.

"You know when you curse during sex I get turned on."

"You get turned on when I curse at any time of the day." Peter mutters in between a few groans. Peter pushes a hand into Brian's hair to tug on it a bit from behind, as if to ask him to pay full attention to him again.

"Can you say my name?" Brian asks, in the softest tone. It's a genuine request, as Brian tucks his fingers below Peter's chin to adjust their gazes together.

Peter responds easily, his mouth already open. "Fuck, Brian... Brian, Brian..." He repeats it enough for it to almost becoming a chant and trance-like, until Brian shuts him up with another kiss, both their moans now muffled between each other's lips.

"And can you tell me that—"

"I love you." Peter says clearly and distinctly, already having been ready to answer his question before he asked it. "I love you, Brian." Peter repeats, with even more affirmation, then again, with his lips pressed up against his in yet another kiss.

"Je t'aime et seulement toi."

[ayellowcurtain]

Like trouble water running cold - Ismail x Constantin

Chapter 6, I think

To @odi-et-amo85 and the anon that asked for this

-

The next morning, or afternoon actually, was not much easier. Ismail’s own words were still dancing in his very hungover brain, and he could tell it was no different with Constantin. He looked like a small, cute puppy that was left on the sidewalk for a new owner to grab or something. Ismail didn’t try to play nice that morning, he didn’t have the energy or emotions to do so.

Breakfast was quiet, and awkward, Constantin wouldn’t stop looking at him, and when Ismail tried to calmly tell Cons’ parents that he was leaving, Constantin tried to argue, saying to his parents that Ismail had nowhere else to go and no need to leave, but Ismail didn’t care, and he was out of the house a few hours later.

After another or two arguments with Constantin trying to stop him while packing his bag, or while taking everything to the door, he was finally on his way to Zoe’s place. He made sure to check that Kieu My wasn’t there that morning, and Zoe said it was only her, that even Nora wasn’t home.

Of course she already knew he and Constantin had a fight when he finally got there. If news travels fast, it travels faster than the speed of light between all of them, their tiny, extremely messy group of friends. She didn’t know exactly what the fight was about - it’s not like they hide that they hook up sometimes but it’s also their very private thing, their bubble that nobody has full access to - but she knew something had happened, and as always, tried to brush it off, to say whatever it was would be gone after a beer or two, or maybe wine.

Ismail didn’t feel like talking, or trying to fake anything, so he just used his hangover as an excuse and Zoe let him be for the next day or two.

Everyone’s lives did go back to normal eventually, at least the we-will-party-and-drink-no-matter-what part and Ismail was okay with it after those first few days feeling sorry for himself and angry with Constantin. He avoided going out the first week but he was going insane after all that time locked inside so he started going out again, and just avoided being alone with Constantin, ignoring his every attempt to talk and brush things off too.

Ismail could see him constantly staring though, drinking more and more every new day they went to go have drinks somewhere but he didn’t give in. Yeah, he made a big scene out of a small, dumb hook up but it was more than that. He was just generally tired of exactly this: Constantin trying to brush everything about them off like it’s no big deal when it was to Ismail. Constantin trying to always get his way because he can pout and look like a puppy and make you think you’re in the wrong when he’s the one constantly fucking things up left, right, and center.

“I don’t even know what’s exactly that you’re so pissed about.” Constantin said almost a month later. Ismail knew that this was planned, it just took everyone a whole month to make it happen.

They all felt bad that Constantin and Ismail weren’t talking at all, they all tried to fix it, to talk and find a way to get everything back to normal but Ismail assumed they were always way too drunk or high to put their stupid plan ir order. It only happened a month later, and it was basically an accident. Somehow, it felt like a miracle to be honest, Constantin was the less drunk one besides Ismail, and so he was in charge to walk everyone home, find their keys, shove them inside or something. Lucky for him, he only had to do that with Kieu My that night because everyone else was staying at Zoe’s.

Seeing him open the door for Kieu My, help her get inside her house safely and without making a sound made Ismail a little bit jealous deep down, remembering their laughter, and long arms wrapped around each other as they walked upstairs that one night. And maybe he froze watching that, too bitter to notice that Zoe and Finn ran as he waited for Constantin as they all should. So in the end, he was left behind to walk with Constantin, and that’s when Constantin started that conversation after long, awkward, heavy minutes walking in silence between them.

Ismail tried to ignore but of course that wouldn’t be a sign for Constantin to just leave him until they got to Zoe’s. He can never take a no for an answer.

“It can’t be because I had sex with Kieu My.” Constantin came closer to say that and Ismail stepped away, and he could hear the loud sigh before Constantin was in front of him, following every time he tried to go the other way to keep walking.

“What?! You, me and Kieu My had fun millions of times before, and the times it was just me and her are like,” Ismail rolls his eyes, and tries to move to the side again but Constantin quickly follows, "…less than my two hands, and you and I know that. It was never a fucking problem befo-”

“We were tested before that, remember?”

Constantin frows, doesn’t seem to remember right away. “Yes…? So…?”

Ismail huffs, and tries to move on again, but Constantin stops him again, holding his arm this time too.

“I used a fucking condom, Ismail! What do you want?”

“It’s funny that you still have to ask.”

Constantin stutters, blinking a few times, for once in shock, letting Ismail take a few steps in peace before he’s right back next to him.

“I like you too. I didn’t know this wasn’t clear or that big of a deal to you too-”

“You always get your way, Constantin. You hear other people, what they want or need, and you completely ignore if that’s not what you want. You’re selfish, you don’t care, even when you have feelings for someone, it’s still so fucking small compared to your ego. I’m tired of being your babysitter, I’m tired of always doing things your way. I’m taking care of myself now, putting myself first. So just leave me alone.”

Ismail bumped into Constantin’s shoulder as he walked away and Constantin didn’t bother him for the rest of the way, but Ismail could feel his puppy eyes watching his every step all the way home. Constantin obviously tried to make himself even worse, declining Zoe’s invitation to stay at hers too so he wouldn’t have to go home alone. He only decided to stay because Ismail got tired of his pity party, and said he should stay and not be dumb. He slept on the couch, and Ismail couldn’t even close his eyes that night.

6 months later

Ismail finishes his beer, rolling his eyes because Kieu My is still there, glued to his side, pressing her lips together not to say anything.

“Where’s your girlfriend again?” Ismail teases, and she laughs wholeheartedly, leaning against him, with her elbow on his shoulder.

“At least I’m not grumpy because I’m as single as one can be. No cute dates to drag to our parties tonight?”

Ismail is guilty of that, maybe, but it didn’t happen as often as Kieu My is acting.

“I deleted Grindr.” Ismail decides to finally tell her, it’s been a few weeks, the hookups got boring and repetitive.

“No way! Why?”

Ismail shrugs, turning around to watch the party, can’t help but look for Constantin, talking to Finn in a corner, smiling for once. Kieu My follows his eyes, and presses her elbow on his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna finally give him a break.”

“No.” Ismail cuts that conversation right away. He and Constantin are okay, finally, but there’s no chance they’ll go back to that mess. They’re friends. Like Finn, or Zoe, or Kieu My even. No benefits. They’re not even best friends anymore.

“He’s trying, you should at least give him that.”

“Trying what? To not act like a horny spoiled pre-teen?”

Kieu My raises her eyebrows, shaking her head from one side to the other. Constantin is a little better but Ismail can’t do that, ever again. He can’t get that close to Constantin again because - and nobody else needs to know that, the guilt inside his brain is big enough already - he knows his feelings are just asleep, buried under thick, comfortable layers of time passing by where Ismail got distracted with anything (and anyone) else.

“He’s not as dumb and egocentric as he used to be. You should be proud that you gave him some ground to walk on and grow up.”

“‘I’m that good of a human.” Ismail laughs, fixing his curls that are bothering his eyes. Maybe the hookups that he brought to some of their small parties were also intentional, to teach Constantin what he was missing but Ismail doesn’t have to admit that out loud either.

“And you still have that huge of a crush on your childhood best friend but we won’t talk about that, I’ll pretend I don’t see right through you.”

Kieu My doesn’t wait for his moody answer, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before finally joining Fatou on the dance floor they made in Zoe's living room. The fake disco ball with the strings attached to it, the confetti on the floor, they really went all out this time, it feels like the old days, before all the drama.

After months of failed attempts, Constantin doesn’t rush to try and talk to Ismail every time he’s alone at parties anymore. He misses it, a little bit. And he misses a lot the relationship they used to have, mess or no mess. There’s nobody that could ever fill the thousand of roles Constantin had in his life. Best friend, older brother, younger brother, bodyguard even, lover, easy sex…

Ismail turns around and walks around the counter to see if he finds himself something stronger to drink. He’s been living here for long enough to know where Zoe hides her good drinks so he checks the cupboards underneath the counter but there’s nothing new or interesting there.

“Zoe said we’re running out of booze.”

Ismail stands back up, for some weird reason getting a little nervous to be talking to Constantin, only the counter between them and even then, Cons is sort of leaning against it, and he looks painfully hot tonight. Maybe it’s the weeks without even getting to kiss someone that’s getting to Ismail.

“Already? It’s not even that late.”

Constantin shrugs, drinking his beer. “If you need it so bad we can go look around for some store that might be open still.”

Ismail shakes his head, wrapping his robe type of jacket tighter around him, using the feathers around the wrist to keep his hands warm.

“No fucking way, it’s too cold outside.”

“Okay then.” Constantin takes a long look at him, and Ismail feels a little prouder, a tiny bit exhibitionist. “You look good tonight.”

“Every night, you mean.” Constantin laughs, and it makes Ismail laugh too.

“No way.”

“Fuck you.”

Constantin raises his eyebrows, finishing his beer and Ismail rolls his eyes. I wish!

“I see you’re letting your hair grow…”

Ismail misses Constantin like he can’t even explain, even the tedious parts such as cutting his hair because Constantin is too much of a lazy ass to go find a professional hairdresser that he might like.

“Not really, I just don’t have the fucking option. My hairdresser doesn’t accept to deal with me and my reckless behavior anymore.”

Ismail sighs, stealing the beer Finn left at the counter to go to the bathroom. “You’re so fucking weird.”

Constantin leans against the counter again, following him with his eyes as Ismail doesn’t mind going around the counter, standing a step too close to Cons, but still far enough where Constantin doesn’t think Ismail is making a move on him.

“I still have the fancy hair cutting things you bought last year.”

“That I bought to cut my hair…” Constantin rolls his eyes, and Ismail stops himself from smiling too big.

“That you used to cut my hair too.” Ismail notices how short Constantin’s nails are when he starts spinning his empty bottle on the counter. It’s been a couple of years since Ismail saw his nails this short, he wonders how anxious he is today.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Constantin finally asks, less cool than how he was trying to be until just now.

“Cutting your hair, apparently.” Ismail finishes Finn’s beer, trying to tame the butterflies that are starting to fly on his stomach, well aware that Constantin will find a way to convince him to go stay at his place tonight.