#like hello angry little man youre going to make a scarf or socks and call down a little it works i swear

[parapsychoiogy]

imagining a character takes up knitting or crocheting to deal with Stuff™️ is something that can be sooo personal

[mandoalorian]

Shopping with Maxwell Lord

READ PART TWO HERE

DAY FIVE: Shopping with Maxwell Lord [This is the one I really wanted to write for myself and my own self indulgent needs!]

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes

December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina

December Writing Challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warnings: allusions to sex, mention of orphanages and losing parents, Maxwell really wants a baby...

Word count: 2.7k

Rating: PG-13

Maxwell stood there, front and centre of the living room, in front of the television, frowning. A crinkle in between his brown eyebrows and his arms crossed over his chest. "Max?" you asked, looking at him with bewilderment. He didn't reply. "Max, can you move? I'm trying to watch A Christmas Carol." Maxwell sighed, moving out the way and slumping on down on the couch next to you. You continued watching the black and white movie for only a few seconds before tossing your head back and pausing it. "What?" you asked Maxwell and he narrowed his eyes.

"What?" he repeated, his tone almost accusing.

"Why are you so miserable?" you asked him and he shrugged, looking away from you and back at the paused TV. "Hello? Cat got your tongue?" you quizzed, causing him to roll his eyes. "Talk to me."

"I just-" Maxwell took a deep breath. "I hate the time of year. I mean, since meeting you, it's been better. It's been so much better but still… it still feels tainted by my past." he revealed. You wrapped your arm around him and lay your head into his lap. He found his fingers smoothing out your hair, bringing him a sense of comfort and belonging. "I don't know what to do."

You thought for a moment, glancing back at the paused television and back up at your boyfriend. "You remind me of Scrooge." you said out loud.

"Excuse me?" Maxwell asked and you giggled, reaching over to grab the remote and press play on the television.

"Ebeneezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol," you clarified, pointing at the character on the television. "He was always miserable around Christmas. He made his business associate work in the cold and he never gave to charity… but then three ghosts came to visit him and he changed into a better, kind hearted and more generous man."

"Wow," Maxwell scoffed. "You really know how to make me feel better." he said sarcastically and you slapped his arm playfully. "I don't see the resemblance. I give to plenty of charities and I never make my employees work in the cold… and what is he wearing?"

"Maxie," you laughed. "It's set like, 100 years ago. Listen, I think you're wonderful. You give so much already. And I love you no matter what but… Christmas in particular is a time for giving back. Helping those who are less fortunate than ourselves. I think it could really bring you a kind of happiness. It'll keep you occupied and-"

"You have something in mind, don't you?" Maxwell sighed and your lips curled into a grin.

"Maybe…." you smirked, your eyes sparkling with excitement and desire. Maxwell loved to see you happy.

"Okay, what is it?" He asked and you sat up, taking his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"When I was in the city the other day, I saw that the orphanage have been asking for donations. They're saying they'll accept anything. They just want the children to have a Christmas they'll never forget." you explained and Maxwell nodded. He was one of the biggest investors for the orphanage in DC. As a child, he knew how it felt to feel left behind. "So Max, what if we give them a Christmas they'll never forget?"

"Send more money?" he asked, already reaching for his checkbook.

"No. No that's...not what I meant." you shook your head.

"Well what do you propose?"

"Shopping!" you beamed and Maxwell sighed. "C'mon, it'll be fun." You grinned, pulling him off the sofa and wrapping your arms around him.

"It's Christmas Eve, the mall is going to be chaos." Maxwell shook his head in dismay.

"We are going shopping Maxwell." you said sternly. "Trust me on this one."

You pulled him over to the lobby and passed him his winter coat, scarf and gloves before swinging on your own faux fur jacket and wooly hat. "You can make up for this tonight." Maxwell told you, playfully smacking your ass as you opened the front door. You laughed and rolled your eyes before taking your boyfriend's hand and pulling him outside.

Maxwell was right. The mall was chaos, but luckily everyone was in a world of their own, too focused on getting their last minute Christmas shopping in before the big day tomorrow. "What's the plan?" he asked as you analysed the map of the mall, trying to figure out the most efficient route.

"We get toys and clothes and…" you looked up at Max. "100 kids live in that orphanage. We're going to do the absolute best we can for them, okay?"

"Okay." Maxwell agreed and you took his hand.

"Okay," you confirmed. "Let's go."

The first stop was a department store. It was bustling like you had never seen before. You and Maxwell both decided it would be best if you split up and went your separate ways before reuniting at the main entrance with your shopping. Taking control, like he always did, Maxwell told you to pick up toiletries while he'd look at the children's clothes.

You found yourself grabbing bubblegum flavoured toothpaste and princess pirate toothbrushes and washcloths, mermaid bubble bath and astronaut shower gel. You were practically pushing everything you could find into your shopping basket, trying your hardest to ignore the heaviness and the way your arm ached from the weight of it. You grabbed some fruity fragranced body spray for the slightly older girls and some deodorant for the preteen boys before heading to the checkout.

Maxwell Lord in the children's clothing section of the busiest DC department store was something else. He was surrounded by pink fluffy cardigans made for two year olds and onesies with little trains printed on them. Maxwell was someone who had a key eye for fashion, and while you were someone who wanted to grab everything you could, Maxwell really valued the quality. He strutted over to the designer brand section and picked out a dozen pairs of cashmere socks, winter UGG boots, Gucci jackets and white, frilly, made in Milan dresses.

But then his eye caught on something. It wasn't designer, it was a small, pale yellow babygrow with the words "Daddy's little princess" embellished in pink glitter writing. It was the smallest thing he had ever seen and he was enamoured. He stared at it for a few moments, before it was snatched away by a middle aged red faced woman with her hair scraped back into a ponytail.

"Hey!" Maxwell shouted, spinning around and pointing his finger at the woman. "That's mine." he frowned, angry that she had taken the last one.

"Finders keepers." she snarled.

Maxwell tore his hat from his head and removed his sunglasses. "Do you know who I am?" he quizzed bitterly, his hand taking place on his hip.

The woman gasped, her mouth parting slightly. "Oh- oh my god," she said with shock dripping from her tongue. "You're! You're Maxwell Lord! The King of Infomercials!!! I just seen you on the television in the electronics department!"

Maxwell smirked, satisfied with his reputation and influence he had over people. "Yeah, that's me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to need that uh…" he didn't even know what to call the babygrow, instead gesturing aimlessly towards it.

"Okay!" the woman beamed, "But could I get an autograph and a kiss on the lips?"

Maxwell's frown deepened. "What?"

She scrambled around in her purse for a pen and handed it to him, rolling up her sleeve. "Sign me!"

"On- on your arm?" Maxwell asked and she nodded eagerly. Maxwell removed the lid and swiftly signed his name over her skin before handing her the pen back.

"Oh wow," she blushed, fanning herself before pouting her lips.

"Yeah, not happening." Maxwell sighed. "I'm not kissing you." The woman knotted her eyebrows together and straightened herself up, but before she could retort, Maxwell snatched the babygrow from her arms and ran to the elevator. "Nice doing business with you!" he grinned, waving his arms and running away."

After paying for the goods, you and Maxwell met back up and made your way, this time together, to the toy store. "Reminds me of when I was a kid," Maxwell smiled at the memory as he took your hand and looked up and down the shelves in awe. "My dad would take me here every year to pick out a new toy for Christmas. It was one of the only times we got to spend with each other." You hummed, leaning your head into his shoulder. Maxwell grabbed a few stuffed animals and threw them into the shopping cart. "I can't wait for the day I have kids." he announced.

"I thought you didn't want children?" you asked, your voice soft at the thought of your boyfriend being a father.

"I thought for so long I didn't want kids…" Maxwell admitted.

"I think you'd be an amazing father," you told him, squeezing his hand, only making his smile grow further. "Hey, we should get a few of these new electronic train sets! And the new Little Mermaid Barbies! What do you think?"

"I like how you think." Maxwell replied, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you picked out the dolls.

It was around 2 p.m. on Christmas Day. You and Maxwell had just finished your dinner and you had slipped into a fleecy elf dress you had purchased at the mall a day prior. You revealed yourself to Maxwell who was laying on the sofa watching the television has his stomach settled from all the food he had enjoyed.

"Check me out!" you grinned, giving him a little twirl, the bells on your elf hat jingling. Maxwell's jaw dropped as he drunk in your appearance.

"Where on God's great earth did you get that?" he asked, looking slightly mortified.

"The costume department at the mall!" You laughed. "I thought I could wear it for when we visit the orphanage. Don't worry, I got you a little something too so you don't feel left out." You presented Maxwell with a full body Santa Claus costume. "Ta da!"

"Not a chance." Maxwell sighed.

"Come on!" you growled playfully. "I'm sure the kids would love Maxwell Lord giving them presents, they'd be star struck. But Maxie, they're kids. I think they'd love it even more if the presents were delivered by Santa Claus." Max grimaced, knowing you were absolutely right. "Please." you pouted, fluttering your eyelashes.

Maxwell sighed again, this time deeper. He could never deny you. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll get changed and then we can go."

You squealed excitedly, kissing his cheek. "I love you so much Maxie," you said, and Maxwell felt a blush creep over his cheeks. "I just know you're going to be a great dad one day."

"My back hurts." Maxwell moaned as he adjusted the sack of presents over his shoulder. You chuckled, shaking your head as you carried bags of clothes and toiletries of the orphans.

"Proud of you," you assured him. "Almost there."

You practically melted when you saw the delight of the screaming children hurry over to your boyfriend and wrap their tiny arms around him. "Ho ho ho," Maxwell bellowed and you watched with complete adoration as he dropped the sack of presents and interacted with the children. "Have you all been good this year?" he asked and the kids screamed in affirmation.

"Santa Claus!" A little girl gasped, reaching her hands out and making grabby fists. "I thought you weren't coming this year." she admitted, her eyes glossy. Maxwell kneeled down so he was level with the child.

"My elf told me how good you had been this year," Max smiled, pointing at you. "What's your name darling?"

"Maxine," she smiled and you saw Maxwell soften.

"I like that name." Maxwell replied, pulling her into a hug. "Merry Christmas Maxine."

"Thank you Santa, will I see you next year?"

Maxwell looked at you and you nodded your head. "Of course, as long as you be a good girl, I'll come back next year."

Maxine grinned, before hugging Maxwell tighter, refusing to let go. Just then, a boy who you estimated to be about thirteen or fourteen tapped you on the shoulder. You spin around with your best elfish smile, but frowned when you saw the magazine he was holding. It was a tabloid with your face on the cover. You winced at the bad angle. "You look like Max Lord's girlfriend." he deadpanned.

Maxwell's head snapped towards you and the boy and he strolled over. "Well well well who is that beautiful lady?" he asked, taking the magazine from the boy and checking it out.

"Max Lord's girlfriend." the boy replied. "Your elf looks like her."

Maxwell pinched your cheek. "This elf? No, not a chance." Maxwell laughed and you gave the child an apologetic look. "This lady in the magazine is far too beautiful to look like my head elf."

You weren't sure whether you should feel offended or not. Little Maxine gasped, racing over. "You can't say that!" she squealed. "What about Mrs Claus?"

You smirked, leaning into Maxwell. "Yeah Santa, what about Mrs Claus?"

"Uh- well! Mrs Claus… I do love Mrs Claus very much and she's at home baking Christmas cookies so I better be on my way… but it was lovely to meet you all!" Maxwell waved and you stifled back a laugh.

"Please don't go." Maxine cried, hugging Maxwell's legs.

"Be good and I'll be back next year." Maxwell promised, patting her on the head.

"Promise you'll come back?" Maxine begged, tears in her eyes. You wondered how many times little Maxine had asked a parental figure to come back to her and been let down. Maxwell wondered the same, his heart breaking at the thought.

"I promise." Maxwell affirmed, raising back to his feet and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy your presents and remember to be good children. We hope to see you next year!" you said farewell with a cheery smile and the children waved back.

When you got home that evening, you slid out your elf shoes and took off your hat. "Can you help me get out of this dress?" you asked Maxwell, holding up your hair so he could reach the zipper.

"Actually…" Maxwell trailed off, biting his lip. "Maybe you could wear it for bed?" he suggested with a smirk.

"An elf? Really Max? You want me to be an elf?" you laughed in disbelief.

"Could be fun." he shrugged and you rolled your eyes, opting to leave the elf dress on as you clambered into the warm king sized bed, watching Maxwell as he got undressed. "Oh I almost forgot," Maxwell said, reaching into the bag from the department store yesterday. "Close your eyes." You followed his instruction as he dived into the bag and took out the pale yellow babygrow he had fought for. He padded over to the bed and sat down, placing the outfit in your hands. "Open."

Your lips parted slightly as you took in the embellished words 'Daddys little Princess'. You glanced back up at your boyfriend and gave him a questioning look. "I'm confused." you admitted and he took your hands, rubbing circles into your skin.

"I really want a kid," he whispered, looking into your eyes. "I know you do too, and when we've talked about it I've always shut you out but… damn it, I really want one. Do you think… I mean. What do you think-"

You cut him off by pressing a kiss into his lips and holding him tight. "Okay," you nodded, your voice croaking with all the pent up emotion, rubbing your nose against his. "Let's have a baby." you smiled and Maxwell grinned, pushing you into the bed and climbing on top of you.

READ PART TWO HERE

[writingwitchly]

A matter of… toe?

Can I ask for a oneshot with Sirius with the convo: B: You got a new lip balm? A: Yeah. It smells like strawberries too! Want to smell? B: Sure! *walks closer to kiss her/him* A: *just as B is few inches away* *pulls out the balm in front, making it cover B's nose* Please!! Love you😘 ~ @miss-nerd0905

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 4,1k 

AU: Where the biggest concern sare late Xmas shopping and love. So no war, but still wizards. 

A/N: I will not rant about my writing bc it’s Xmas… Vase Darling, I hope you like it!! I wanted this to be vv Christmassy for you!! tbh, I didn’t fully stick to the prompt (this might be veryyy different from what you expected), but the lip balm’s there lol. Have a jolly holiday!

***

Like every December 23rd, you type Lily’s number on the phone, and hum a jolly tune as the dial tone echoes in your ear.

Ever since you’ve moved on your own in London, going late Christmas shopping with your best friend has become a tradition. Together, you go from shop to shop, searching even the most unknown and hidden ones, to get the most perfect gifts for your friends. And, modestly, you nail every single one, to the point where everyone in your circle of Christmas guests call you the “jingle bell rocking team.”

You let your eyes wander on the gray sky outside through the window, and make a mental note of bringing your scarf along, right as a click announces that someone has picked up the call.

“Hello?”

You were going to scream at your friend in excitement to hurry up, but something in the voice that answered makes it… not hers. It’s deep and raucous.

“Lily?”

A crack, then a pause. Some air faintly blows in the mike, and you perceive that the phone must be moving.

“Y/N?” Now, you do recognize Lily’s voice. Although it still sounds off. And nasal.

“Lily!”

“Y/N…” A cough echoes in the background, so the owner of the other voice must still be in proximity.

“Um… Are you okay?” You risk the stupid question, dreading the obvious answer.

“Well,” She tries to laugh, but her lungs seem to resist the act. “Not really. I… James managed to pass me his flu, this year. But don’t worry, I’ll wear some additional coat and we’ll still go, I’ll be there in-”

Her boyfriend protests in the back, but is stopped by another wave of coughing.

An “oh” escapes your throat, longer than you wanted it. “It wouldn’t be wise to go shopping, if you’re in that state, Lils.” For a moment, she seems to hesitate, so you add, “We want to have you guys whole and in perfect shape for the Christmas Eve party.”

You hope your regret isn’t too evident in your tone.

“James wants to make it alive until then, he’s planned a little fly dressed all in red and whi-”

The raucous voice resounds in the background, clearly irritated, and Lily laughs again, “Seems like I’ve ruined the surprise. Don’t tell anyone,” She giggles again. “Um- Sorry to leave you alone on that.”

“Uh?” Imagining James flying, dressed as Santa Claus, has made you forget anything else for a couple of seconds. “Oh, you mean the shopping. Don’t worry,” You’re not sure the last two words sounded very convincing, but you still continue, “I’ll ask someone else to come. Maybe Dorcas.”

“Er- Her and Mary have choir rehearsal for the fundraising,” Lily reminds you.

The sky outside seems to become a little darker.

“Shoot. Remus then.”

“You know that today-”

“He works until late. And Marlene’s at her family’s until tomorrow.” You bite your lip, “Peter?”

“Is it grocery shopping you plan to do?”

Peter and his love for Christmas sweets… He’d stop you at every corner to get a new type of candy.

“Kingsley?”

But you erase that possibility on your own: he isn’t one to walk the whole day around looking for funny socks or the perfect make up set.

You sight in exasperation. This is why it’s always Lily and you who take care of the holiday shopping.

Half as a joke, half out of desperation, you suggest, “Dumbledore?”

There is a loud snort -- which sounded more like a snore -- surely from James, and then Lily mutters something that you can’t hear.

“Lily?”

Shuffling in the background.

“I- James says- He says that you should probably ask Sirius to come.”

“Sirius?” you repeat, not convinced to have heard right. You hope you haven’t.

You’re not 100% sure, but you heard James repeat his mate’s name at the same time as you, and in the exact same surprised tone.

After a second, the man’s laughter is muffled by Lily’s hand on the mike. She tells him something, and he answers back between two sneezes, but you can’t understand anything except for ‘-toe.’

“Toe?”

Lily’s voice comes back, “What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, this time convinced that you have heard wrong. “So, you guys say, Sirius?”

No, no, no.

“Well, yeah. Usually, he can’t go because he takes care of James’ seasonal flu, but now I can do that…”

“Mmmm…”

“Call him, Y/N, he’s your last hope. I’ll manage to take care of my boyfriend and resist the urge to hex him.”

“Are you sure that Sirius is the right guy to give advice on Muggle shopping?”

And that I won’t make a fool of myself around him?

“I- Uh…” Lily stutters, and pauses a second to hear what James has to say. “Well, if you say so, Potter.” She focuses back on you, “James is positive about it, Y/N,” Which one? The shopping thing, or the fool thing? You’d like to be sure about the latter. “And- I left some soup on the stove,  so- we don’t want the house burning down, do we. Gotta go!”

Is it you, or does her voice sound much healthier than before? “Wait, Lily-!”

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Before she hangs up, James’ voice reaches you, but very confusedly.

Again, did he say toe?

***

Getting Sirius to come shopping with you was easier than you thought. A call, and he apparated on the front step before you had a chance to put your boots on. Even keeping your composure in his presence is revealing itself quite easy, despite the fact that you’re alone with him for the first occasion in a very long time.

The tough stuff is making him follow you through Muggle London without losing him in the crowd.

“What about that?” you ask, eyeing a novel with a bright blue cover. It reads ‘In Love With an Idiot’, and Lily would absolutely wheeze only at the title. “Do you think that James would be offe- Sirius?” You shoot a glance behind your shoulder, only to discover that the man has disappeared again. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

Struggling to hold the multiple packs under your arms, you move to the side of the pedestrian street, and climb on a bench, under the glare of an old lady. Feeling dizzy because of the bright passing scarves and hats, you lose one good minute in finding the mane of black locks that towers above the surrounding passerbys.

Completely obvious of the world around him, the boy’s observing the vitrine of a toy shop, whose sign’s colorful light reflects on his recently shaved cheeks.

“Sirius!” Your cry of frustration scares the glaring old lady away, but at least it’s successful in making your friend come back to reality.

Smirking, Sirius makes his way back to you, pushing people aside with the dozens of bags he carries, and attracting himself many dark looks.

“Afraid I’d leave you, Y/N?”

“No,” you sigh, wondering at what age Sirius has stopped growing up mentally, “Afraid to lose half of the gifts. What were you looking at?”

“Crazy how the Muggles manage to make things move without magic. There was a small train riding on its own!” His grin widens, and you have to tilt your head up to have a good sight of his childish expression.

Godric, he’s so tall. And so handsome.

Shut up, Y/N.

“But it looked quite unrealistic,” he continues, unaware of your internal dialogue, “There was no smoke.”

“It’s normal,” you say, “It works with batteries, a clever way of producing energy without-”

But Sirius craning his neck in direction of another shop stops you mid-sentence. It won’t be long until he goes off your sight again.

Merlin, he’s worse than Peter.

“No, Black, no such thing again. We’re almost done, I don’t plan on spending the night here.”

To prevent him from going away again, and prevent the lost of the dozen of bags he carries, you link an arm with his. And immediately feel your cheeks lighting up.

Thankfully, he looks away. And you badly hope it’s not because he saw you blushing.

“Nice weather,” he mutters, right as you say, “It’s freezing cold.”

Had it happened earlier, you would have laughed and argued, but now a strange tension seems to have fallen on the two of you.

“So er- those… baggeries,” he says hesitantly. “Do Muggles use them only for tiny trains or-”

You smile shyly, relieved by his clumsy attempt at building a conversation, but suddenly find yourself unable to explain anything about bagge- batteries. So you just correct his pronunciation and laugh the question away.

Something in the way Sirius looks and behaves has changed since your Hogwarts years. He is much more mature, and much less of a troublemaker. He hasn’t lost his mischievous sparkle, of course -- not even after death will he --, but he uses it more consciously.

The last time you two have been alone together before today was… three years and a half ago?

During the graduation party, you had found yourself sitting alongside the dance floor, immersed in nostalgic flashes of your school years, when Sirius had come to ask you for a dance. He saw it as only another moment of fun, but something clicked in your head when he grabbed you by the waist.

You saw memories of how you had started liking him in first year, how his sarcastic remarks were actually something you looked forward to get angry at everyday, how his lousy humor and deep sense of loyalty were his most attracting traits, how his hair falling on his eyes made you daydream.

You also saw the fact that you were about to step in the adults’ world, and maybe part ways.

So, drunk in melancholy and honeywine, you were about to tell him what you had hid for seven years in a row.

But, right at that moment, a group of girls passed by, eyeing him shamelessly and giggling like three-years-olds. It was already hard to swallow the fact that you were infatuated with the most popular guy in a range of ten kilometers, but when he asked you, in the middle of the song, if you’d mind if he invited one of them to dance, you lost your breath.

“Of course not,” you answered, surprising yourself at how easy the lie had come out of your mouth.

He had paused, looked at you for a second, and left you alone in the middle of the room to join the group of girls.

At that moment, lost in your feelings, you had seen through his: you were nothing more than a friend to him.

Some heavy darkness had engulfed you, and that had been the last time you’d accepted to be alone with him. Until today.

You have spent three years muffling your heart’s complaints under tons of good will, in the name of your friendship, and in respect for his opinion.

Caught in the worry of not being able to buy your friends their gifts, you did not think twice about it, earlier, but now…

It seems dangerous to walk next to him.

Around you, the street is getting busier of other people who, like you, have opted for a last-minute gift-search. Fake Santas shake their bells, making teens giggle, and women with babies look in adoration at them. A couple of parents hold their children by the hand, dragging them toward a house shop, while the kids clearly feel like stopping in front of a cozy bar. There is a Frank Sinatra song playing somewhere near the place at the end of the way, and the crispy notes of his deep voice fill every corner of the jolly atmosphere.

A draught of winter air caresses your face, making you shiver.

“About time to go, don’t you think?” you suggests, tightening the scarf around your neck.

“Well- De we have everything we need?” Sirius hesitates, so you start recounting the bags,

“We’ve got Marlene’s sweater, Alice’s scented candles, Kingsley’s sock set-”

“A complete,” Sirius interrupts you “collection of Queen’s best hits for James - that sucker better repay me later, this costed like one of my eyes - a maxi sized pot of skittles for Dumbledore, a horrible pair of socks for Frank, and some catnip for Minnie. Remus’-”

“Catnip?” you raise an eyebrow. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’ve-”

“No, I haven’t left the tea behind, we have that too. I just thought it’d be nice to add some catnip,” he finishes, with a big grin stamped across his face, and you roll your eyes.

“I checked everything on the  list that Lily and I have made, so we have everything. I think we can stop.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asks, and you think you discern some deception in his words. Is it really possible that-

But your running imagination must be tricking you.

“Quite sure, I-” You slap a hand on your forehead, attracting a curious look from a seven-years-old passing by.  “I was forgetting, as always!” you claim, “We’re not done yet.”

Sirius eyes you, and you see a reflection of the little boy’s expression on his face. And maybe a brighter twinkle in his stare.

“We were forgetting about our own gifts,” you explain, to which he breaks into a snort.

“What’s the plan, then? We choose our gift, and we’ll act as if it’s a surprise on Eve’s dinner?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You choose something for me, I’ll pick something for you. No right to show the other, so-” You realize what you’re going to say, and regret it a bit. “So- It’s better if we part ways now, anyway. I have- I have to meet Mary and Dorcas for a trip to the library,” you say, raising your stare from the floor to look at him straight in the eyes.

Sirius’ lips purse in a thin line, and he nods in understanding.

You slow your pace down, and come to a halt. After a second of uncomfortable pause, you unlink your arm from his, and, for a moment, you face each other, unsure of how to say goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Sirius half-heartedly says.

“Yeah,” you respond.

The crazy thought of a hug crosses your mind, but you turn on your heels before giving in to the temptation. 

You’re already a good fifteen meters away, when his voice flies to you, “It was a nice shopping session, Y/N! Thank you!”

You swing around, and smile before the crowd swallows him.

***

“You tricked me.”

Zipping her golden top, Lily doesn’t deign you of a look. “I don’t see what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Spare me your terrible lying capacity, Lily. Just- Let’s set aside the fact that you’ve broken our tradition, and that I felt treasoned, but-” You run a hand on your face, looking for proper words to make you sound less lame than what you are. “You know that it’s hard for me to be in the same room as him, and you made it more awkward by setting this up.”

“I didn’t s-”

“Oh come on!” you cry, frustrated. “He was ready when I called! And you do sound like you healed very quickly.”

The decorations on the walls and the snow falling outside make Lily and James’ living room look like a gigantic snowball.

“I- Ok, I’m not as sick as I was yesterday morning, but… I th-”

“You have no right to play the matchmaker, Lily... You know very well how much I struggled to make the pain go away!”

“The both of your are so much more mature recently.”

“So? I can’t make him fancy me, if he doesn’t want to! No matter if he gets as mature as Remus.”

“You’re so stubborn, Y/N! If you don’t try, you’ll never get anything!”

From the doorframe, James chuckles, “Take me as an example: I managed to date my fierce redhead after seven years of-”

“James!” you both scream, and the man raises his hands in defence, going back to drinking his medicinal tea. He can barely stand up, wrapped in the tons of coverts that are supposed to protect his fragile health from yet another cold, but he wouldn’t miss your discussion if he got paid for it: you get better than his favorite telenovellas, when you’re in that mood.

“If you ever tell him any of this-” you look at him, menacing.

With his mouth full of the infusion, James mimics somebody promising, and then walks out of the room, in look of a more peaceful environment. He does that every time he senses the storm going toward him.

“All I want is you to be happy, Y/N. I swear you need to be blind not to notice that Sirius likes you.”

“I’m- Please, don’t make it harder, Lily. I appreciate your encouragements, but I worked hard on making these feelings disappear, and-”

“We both know you still like him, Y/N. How many times will I have to tell you.” She rolls her eyes. “I am going to get you two together before this New Year, or I’ll rename myself Gertrudis. And you can’t change my mind.”

With nothing to answer to that, you sigh, only waiting for the moment when you’ll get to call your best friend Gertrudis.

***

“Nothing better than a sweet gathering with friends for Christmas,” Remus says as he pops the bottle of honeywine open. Behind him, the fire cracks in the chimney.

From across the living room, Frank, his arm around Alice’s shoulders, laughs, “You say that every year, Rems.”

Kingsley comes in the scarred boy’s defence, “It’s worth repeating, Longbottom. Anyway, I’d rather hear Remus say it a thousand more times than to have to listen to James’ drunk jokes at the end of the meal.”

The mentioned boy fakes a pout, and Sirius, who’s lying on the floor at his feet, plays with a red cap, that will be useless this year: Flying Santa Potter Show has been moved to next year, because of ‘health issues’, to Peter’s great regret.

“I wonder how you’re still sneezing enough to make that whole building fall down, James, while Lily’s wearing a mini skirt.” The bitterness in your voice can only be understood by James, and by his girlfriend. “From how she sounded on the phone yesterday, she was about to die.”

At those words, Lily gets out of the kitchen, followed by Dorcas, and shoots you a smile, “Onion soup does miracles on me,” she winks, and turns toward the man spread on the carpet, “Sirius, please be a sweetheart, and give Y/N a hand to bring the rest of the starters on the table.”

And here we go again.

Noticing your annoyed groan, Marlene slightly smiles.

“I hope the floor’s clean,” she murmurs to Lily, “Because I have that feeling that we’ll have to pick the starters up from the tiles. What did you do to piss her off?”

“Just wait,” the redhead whispers back, “And you’ll see.”

***

In the background, Celestina Warbeck threatens to drown you all in a cauldron full of hot love.

Sirius is handing you some plastic plates, on which you lay tiny canapes. The only reason that prevents you from dropping them on the floor in vengeance is their very appetizing look. And the fact that you’ve spent hours dressing them.

The soft buzzing of conversation coming from the living room warms your heart: having friends like yours is the highlight of your life. Ruining the mood by confronting romantical feelings to just friendship would be… awfully wrong.

“Any plans for New Year’s Eve, Y/N?”

“Uh?”

Sirius smiles at you from the other side of the table, a plate full of mini croissants in each hand. “Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

You tilt your head. “Just- our usual gathering. Why?”

The man shrugs. “Maybe you wanted to do something different, I don’t know.” And he grins again. “You tell me, if you want some change, okay?”

“Sure.”

Perplex because of his strange request, you come back in the core room of the party a little distracted, sensing that something is weird.

You scan your friends’ faces, but don’t notice anything out of place, so give up  your strange presentment.

***

Soon, it’s time to unwrap.

As everyone discovers their gifts -- and shares drunk jokes, much to Kingsley’s dismay -- you step in a corner, holding a pink package in the palm of your hand. The ribbon itself is bigger than the box.

“What is it?” Sirius’ sudden presence behind your back makes you start.

“What do you mean, what is it?” From the corner of your eye, you notice Lily staring at you, and then whispering something in James’ ear. “Didn’t you buy it?”

The man scratches his neck. “I’m not the best at choosing Muggle gifts, let along for a girl. So I asked the salesgirl to give me the cutest item she had and-” He points to the half-unwrapped box in your hands. “I’m about to discover what it is at the same time as you.”

His breath on your neck makes your fingers tremble, but you rip the remnants of colorful paper off the present, and reveal a-

“Lip balm?” you ask, surprised.

Sirius only nods, with half a smile. “Looks like it.”

Carefully, you extract the round container from the wrapping, grinning at how cute it is, indeed. You delicately brush a finger on the surface, and press it to your lips.

“Mmm… It smells like strawberries!”

“Really?” Sirius casually steps closer to you.

“Uh- Want to smell?” you ask, trying to remain composed.

“Sure!”

You were about to pass him the container. You were about to. 

But, under your unbelieving stare, Sirius leans forward, until he’s only inches apart from your mouth, and closes his eyes.

A little lamp lights up in your head: that something that was wrong when you exited the kitchen, James’ repeated mention of a ‘toe’ during yesterday’s call… Right above your head, you see it.

It happens all so fast, that you can barely register your own movements.

***

“You what?”

Lily, shivering in her skirt, is gaping at you. She ran after you as soon as you left the apartment in a hurry, and managed to catch you right as you were exiting the building.

“I panicked” You cry, still shocked yourself, and starting to feel like the dumbest person ever, ever, ever.

Your best friend blinks very slowly. “You- Are you doing this to make me lose the bet? Because that’s the only explanation I will accept, Y/N!”

The scene repeats itself endlessly in your mind as the snowflakes sprinkle your hair. Sirius, centimeters away from your lips. The balm suddenly put in front of him, covering his nose. His surprised look. Your run away.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?” Her eyes clearly say ‘I’m about to kill you if you don’t give me a good reason for leaving the perfect romantical scene out of the blue’.

“Listen! If I wasn’t sure that he now thinks I’m the most idiotic fool in this world, I’d run back upstairs and kiss him right where I left him!” you scream.

You hope that none of the neighbors had planned to go to bed early.

“Glad you would-” A voice comes from an open window, three floors above. A pair of large glasses is looking down at you, surrounded by all your friend’s faces.

“James! Fucking get inside, don’t make your flu even worse!” shouts Lily.

“- because,” her boyfriend ignores her, “I doubt he’d be happy to have ran down the stairs for nothing!”

Right as he finishes his sentence, the building’s door opens, and lets out a very confused Sirius. Quickly, Lily disappears inside.

The world stops spinning, and you lose the capacity to breathe. Your knees threaten to give up under the weight of the tension that installs itself on your shoulders.

Merlin, if I could die right on the spot.

“I’m sorry if I-” Sirius takes a step forward, but stops right away, and lowers his head. “It was stupid of me, I’m very sorry.”

Seemingly unable to distinguish between what happens in your head, and what you’re actually doing in this moment, you walk toward him.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” The temperature of your cheeks climbs up vertiginously, and it costs you an incredible effort to articulate. “I’m the one who ran away.”

And you’re standing in front of him, close enough to see the grey of his eyes reflecting the streetlamp light.

“I like you a lot, you know.” His soft whisper knocks the air out of you. “I think I’ve liked you since Hogwarts, but I was too busy being a jerk to notice it.”

Before the moment has a chance to vanish, like a dream, you reach for his lips with yours, standing on your tiptoes.

As Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and deepens the kiss, you can hear the dance of the snowflakes, chorusing with the beating of your hearts. Your breaths become the same mist, and your bodies tell the same story. The story of two young people in love.

Above your heads, a green branch has been fixed with some tape from a windowsill of the third floor, and is gently being hugged by the breeze.

“Look at those two,” Winter seems to whisper, “Finally kissing under the mistletoe.”

***

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 4 (Revised)

The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

The next morning, Yao was harshly woken by what sounded like a buzzsaw drilling into his head. The first thing he realised, with a small wave of relief, was that he was in his own bed. The next was that he was very, very hungover. The third thing Yao realised was that the buzzsaw was, in fact, his cell phone, and it had been ringing insistently for around five minutes now. Groaning huffily, he emerged from under a pile of pillows, reached for the offending phone, and squinted at it through bleary eyes. The words leapt off the screen: Incoming Call… IVAN. Yao was suddenly very wide awake. His chest fluttered, his stomach flipped, and he answered hurriedly. "Uh… hello?"

"Good morning, little Dragon!" That accent and cheery tone were unmistakable. After only one night, Yao was surprised by how intensely the mere sound of Ivan's voice affected him. His heart pounded and his breath stuttered… but he still felt his eyebrows draw together in confusion.

"Um… I don't remember adding your number to my phone."

"I took liberty of doing this last night when you were sleeping." Ivan sounded like he was about to laugh.

"You… oh." Yao dragged himself upright against the pillows. The room immediately spun around him. "Well, as long as that's the only liberty you took."

"I am sorry?"

Yao put his hand over the receiver, swore softly, then placed the phone back to his ear. "Nothing!"

"Silly Yao! I will be taking you out tomorrow afternoon."

Yao nearly fell out of bed. "Taking… wha… you will?" He felt something around his neck and pulled at it in confusion. The warm scent of leather and spice surrounded him - he'd fallen asleep in Ivan's scarf.

"Da, I will."

"Why? I mean… I have to work."

"No, you do not." Ivan's accent sounded even stronger on the phone. It sent strange, tingling shivers down Yao's spine. "I will pick you up at three."

"I… um… okay." The words were out before Yao was sure he meant to say them.

"I will see you then, Dragon!"

The line went dead. Yao sat still for a moment, holding the silent phone against his ear, unsure what he had just agreed to. Had he just been asked on a… a date? Not that 'asked' was really the right word for it. He'd basically just been ordered on a date. Yao wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. He drummed his fingers against the phone for a second, finally hung up, then realised that he hadn't given Ivan his address. He was just debating whether or not to ring the Russian back when his phone rang again. Incoming Call… ALFRED. Yao groaned. "Hello?"

"Yao!" Alfred shouted down the phone. "You gotta come downstairs now and cook me pancakes! Arthur tried but he's a shitty cook and he burnt them and…"

"You wanker!" Arthur yelled in the background. "Just see if I ever cook for you again!"

"Oh Lord, I pray for the day!" Alfred cried, followed by a loud bang and an incoherent scream.

Yao paused briefly. He was quite used to Alfred's demands for food, but he was a little concerned about seeing his friends this morning. He hadn't really known what to say to them last night. Alfred seemed to think Ivan was some sort of Russian spy, Francis was fixated on Yao's future chances of sleeping with the man, and Arthur had been too drunk to really participate in the conversation. But judging by the shrieks on the other end of the phone, Yao wasn't going to get any peace until he cooked his demanding friends their blasted breakfast. He sighed wearily. "I'm coming down now. Please stop shouting." He hung up again, noticing as he did that the time on his phone read nearly midday. Yao had to blink at the clock display a few times. He really must have drunk more than he thought… he never slept that long.

The night before was like a blur in his memory. Of course, certain things stood out more than others. Things like Ivan grasping his hand; touching his fingers with his tongue; kissing him on a balcony… Yao felt very warm as he kicked his clothes aside on his messy floor and headed for his small dresser. Its surface was covered in socks and comic books and cooking magazine clippings, while a Hello Kitty picture and a horoscope chart were taped to the little mirror. Yao inspected his reflection carefully. He wasn't too bad-looking, he supposed, apart from the dark circles - he had good skin, unusually changeable brown eyes, and he'd always been quite proud of his hair. But he still couldn't quite see what had made a man like Ivan call him beautiful. He certainly couldn't see anything extraordinary about himself. He felt confused about it all, a little embarrassed - and secretly, quietly, a bit thrilled.

Yao breathed out heavily, tried to ignore his pounding headache, and headed for the bathroom to get ready. His little apartment only really consisted of three rooms. It was on the second floor of a narrow three story converted townhouse, while the larger apartment on the ground floor belonged to Arthur and Alfred. Francis lived in the apartment on the top floor, and was not the easiest neighbour to deal with, what with him bringing home a steady stream of one nighters at ungodly hours and constantly having his two very loud, possibly insane best friends over. But he was also fun, loyal, and had secured Yao a great apprenticeship at the restaurant where he worked. Besides, the noise from Francis' place wasn't much worse than the alternating screaming arguments and screaming sex sounds that often drifted up from the apartment below.

Yao knocked on Arthur and Alfred's door, received no answer, and opened it hesitantly. He wasn't surprised by the scene he walked into. The kitchen walls were splattered with batter, the benches covered with dirty dishes. Arthur stood in the archway to the living room, throwing pancakes and verbal abuse at Alfred, who hid behind the kitchen island defending himself with a frying pan. Yao rolled his eyes. Just a regular day in the Kirkland-Jones residence.

"Morning, Yao!" Alfred grinned from behind his pan. He didn't seem too troubled by Arthur's tirade.

"Afternoon, more like." Yao fumbled to catch a flying pancake and inspected it closely. It had the consistency of a slightly soggy piece of wood. For politeness sake, he bit the corner cautiously. It tasted about the same. "I don't know what you're talking about, these pancakes are fine," he lied.

"Of course they're bloody fine!" Arthur shouted, his face twisted with rage. "You ungrateful little tosser!" He narrowly missed Alfred's head with the last pancake, then dropped the empty plate onto the bench. "Good morning, Yao." Yao just waved as Arthur turned and flopped onto the living room couch, his back to the kitchen and his face in a book. Yao snatched the frying pan from Alfred's hand, placed it on the stove, and got to work making pancake batter with the ingredients left on the bench.

Alfred immediately raced to Arthur and leant over the back of the couch. "Arthur, sweetheart, don't be mad. You know I love you, even if you can't cook."

"Sod off, I'm studying." But Arthur's voice didn't sound as angry as before.

Alfred laughed, ruffled Arthur's hair, then fell into a stool by the kitchen counter. He leant his chin on his hand and studied Yao for a moment as he worked. "You look like hell," he said finally.

Yao looked up and glared. "Thank you. I feel like hell. Now I remember why I don't drink."

Alfred scoffed loudly. "You need reminding? Between you passing out, Francis stripping off, and Arthur trying to fight anyone in a five mile radius, drinking with you guys is like an extreme sport."

Arthur flipped him off over the back of the couch. Yao just continued stirring the batter in silence. Silence would be best. Surely it wasn't a good idea to mention this date to Alfred. But after only a few seconds, Yao couldn't hold it in anymore. "Ivan called me this morning."

Alfred straightened up incredulously. "You gave that Russian your number?"

"No…" Yao paused his stirring. "No, I didn't." That was a little odd. But then, he'd probably just taken the number from Yao's phone… except that Yao didn't keep his number in his phone… "Huh." Yao shrugged. "Pass me the milk, will you?"

"I told you! He's a spy!" Alfred hurled the milk bottle across the counter. Yao barely managed to catch it. "You need to cut all contact immediately or before you know it you'll be defecting to the Soviet Union!"

Yao gritted his teeth. Yep – silence would have been best. "Ivan is not a spy. And there is no Soviet Union. This isn't the nineteen-fifties, Alfred."

Alfred did not look convinced. "What did he call you for, then?"

Yao looked back into the bowl of batter and tried to keep a stupid grin from his face. "To ask me out tomorrow."

Alfred's eyebrows shot up and Arthur twisted on the couch. They both spoke as one, their voices astonished. "You've got a date?"

Yao's grin fell immediately. Instead, he frowned huffily. "Don't sound so surprised. He's picking me up at three."

"I'd be very suspicious if I were you," said Arthur. "As Jean-Paul Sartre said, 'Three o'clock is either too late or too early for anything you want to do.'"

Yao ignored him and opened the cupboard to get the sugar. Why was he even cooking breakfast for these people?

Alfred snorted. "Yeah, well I think Jean-Paul must've been a pretty boring guy, because I can think of plenty of things to do at three o'clock. None of which involve going on a date with a Russian spy."

"He is not a spy!" Yao slammed the cupboard door loudly. Was it too much to ask for a bit of support? Yao had enough reasons to be nervous without his friends making it worse. Thankfully Arthur discreetly turned back to his book. Alfred, however, did not take the hint.

"Please tell me you didn't say yes." Alfred clenched his fists anxiously, his eyes wide.

Yao just shrugged. He added a little sugar to the bowl and stirred it in with more force than necessary.

Alfred closed his eyes, let out an exaggerated sigh, and flopped forward onto the counter. "You said yes," he groaned.

Yao took the opportunity to flick a bit of the batter into Alfred's hair. "Yes, Alfred, I said yes. Look, I like this guy. He's... nice. Besides, when was the last time someone asked me out?" Yao paused. "Wait, don't answer that."

Alfred lifted himself up and rested his chin on his hand. "Yao, be careful. Spy or not, this guy's gotta be a bit dodgy. I mean, he's a huge Russian who wears a trench coat!"

Yao tried to look insulted. There was a tiny part of himself which agreed that yes, Ivan did seem dangerous. But Yao's struggling sense of pride was doing a really good job of ignoring that part. "So your only problem here is Ivan's nationality, his size, and his dress sense? That is incredibly judgmental, Alfred. You are completely overreacting. Ivan is just a businessman."

Alfred looked horrified. "A middle-aged businessman, Yao? Next thing you know he'll be getting you to dress like a Japanese schoolgirl!"

Yao stared blankly for a few moments. "Alfred, I… don't even know if you're being racist anymore."

Alfred ignored him. "Did he say what business he was in?"

"I didn't ask," Yao lied. "But I suppose I can find out tomorrow, can't I?" Yao poured the batter into the hot frying pan. He'd given up asking himself why he was still cooking Alfred's breakfast.

"Fine," Alfred sighed resignedly. Then he leant forward and continued earnestly, "But if anything feels weird, you call me immediately, okay?"

Yao paused briefly. He supposed that, for all Alfred's ignorant offensiveness, he really was just trying to look out for Yao. It was slightly insulting, yet kind of sweet… in a sick sort of way.

"And I really can get you that can of mace, you know."

Yao clenched his fist around the frypan handle. But still insulting. "Okay, sure, and if that doesn't work I'll just hit him with my handbag," he replied sarcastically.

"Men carry mace!" Alfred cried indignantly. "It's totally manly! Arthur carried it all the time until he got banned after spraying his literature professor!"

Arthur snorted, turning a page of his book and muttering, "That'll teach him for calling a speech on embroidery in the time of Jane Austen 'tedious and uninspired.'"

Alfred put his hand to his forehead. "You're not exactly proving my point, sweetheart."

Yao shook his head in frustration. "Look, Alfred, you're the one who told me I should be less predictable and boring. Now you're getting all insane and irritating when I do just that. Ivan has been nothing but a perfect gentleman." Well, that was true, after all… "And may I also remind you that I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

Alfred looked infuriatingly doubtful. "But…"

"Alfred!" Arthur snapped. "That's enough. Let Yao be happy about his date before he fucks it up."

Yao just sighed. In the end, he hadn't really expected his friends to react any other way.

.

That afternoon, like always, Yao managed to drag himself into work despite the hangover. Sure, he loved cooking, but sometimes Yao felt like he lived his entire life in the restaurant where he worked. Fusion was a few streets away from his apartment, in the busiest part of town; it was only small, but very popular, and incredibly busy. Yao knew that was because it served the best modern cuisine around, and had the best international chefs in the city. Yao hurried through the quiet front dining area, past deep red walls and stark black tables, waving half-heartedly at the wait staff as he went. Most barely acknowledged him, but Yao was used to that by now.

"Yao!" Francis cried cheerfully as Yao entered the small, sparkling-steel kitchen. He was the only other chef working at this time of day, and appeared to be dealing with about six meals at once. He placed a tray in the oven, tossed his hair from his forehead, and twisted his face distastefully. "Mon Dieu, you look like hell."

"So everyone keeps telling me," muttered Yao, throwing his bag in the corner and pulling on an apron. "It's called a hangover. I'll survive."

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had the day off."

A day off… what's that? "I'm filling in for Feliciano for a few hours. He's going to be late."

Francis scoffed and slammed the oven door shut. "You need to stop covering that lazy Italian's arse. Tell him to shove it next time."

Yao shrugged as he turned on the tap to wash his hands. "I don't mind." That wasn't entirely true. Although their first year apprentice spent most of his time slacking off, turning up late, and asking Yao to cover for him, Feliciano was also best friends with Yao's brother Kiku and almost like a brother himself. No one could stay mad at Feli for long.

Francis shook his head. "If that little slacker didn't make the best pasta in the city he would have been fired months ago." Yao scoffed at that. Francis doted on Feliciano worse than anyone. And besides, as long as Yao had known Feliciano there had been the implicit and unspoken knowledge that his Italian family were involved in dealings that were… less than legal. It guaranteed great protection for the restaurant, as well as the understanding that Feliciano was pretty much able to get away with anything he wanted.

"Actually, Francis, speaking of filling in…" Yao turned, leant back against the bench, and shot Francis his best pleading look. If anyone was going to be happy for him, it would be the perverted Frenchman.

"Hmm?" Francis barely noticed, absently reaching up to take a heavy mixing bowl from the cupboard.

Yao continued determinedly. He'd gotten this far, and he was going on this date with Ivan, no matter what it took. "I need you to cover my shift tomorrow."

That got Francis' attention. He swiftly spun around and stared at Yao warily. "Cover? Why?" Yao didn't blame Francis for being suspicious. Yao had never asked anyone to cover for him.

"Okay, don't make a big deal or anything, but…" Yao took a deep breath and braced himself for Francis' reaction. "I'm going somewhere with Ivan."

"The Russian?" Francis practically shrieked in excitement and immediately dropped the bowl on his foot. "Ah la vache!" he cried, hopping in pain. "I mean, Yao! That's fantastic! Good for you! Merde that hurt…"

Yao narrowed his eyes. Why is everyone so surprised by a simple date… Still, it was a better reaction than Alfred's. "I said don't make a big deal of it." He bent down to pick up the bowl.

"This is a big deal!" Francis was almost breathless, whether from excitement or pain Yao could not tell. He rubbed his foot as he continued. "The lucky Buddha I bought you must be working… this must be the first time you've ever made it to a second date!"

Yao promptly dropped the bowl again. This time Francis hopped out of the way.

"Oh mon cher, I didn't mean it like that..."

"So, you can work my shift?" Yao felt odd asking for the day off for no reason other than that he had a date. Maybe the little Buddha was working… he was certainly being more unpredictable than ever before.

Francis just seemed delighted. "Are you serious? This is the biggest occasion of the year! I will drag Feliciano in here by his ridiculous hair curl and make him work your shift. Oh Yao! A Russian! You are one lucky boy, non?" Francis winked. Yao just smiled politely and turned away. Francis really worried him sometimes.

The afternoon passed quickly enough, until before Yao knew it Feliciano was bouncing into the kitchen, grinning madly and carrying an enormous bunch of yellow sunflowers. "Buona sera!" he cried. "Yao you are soooo awesome! Thank you a million times for being the best big brother in the whole world! Don't tell Lovino I said that though, but it's true, because he's always cranky and nasty to Ludwig and he doesn't help me out at work like you do and hello Francis! Your hair is looking fabulous today! Did you try that new shampoo I told you about? Not that you need it your hair always looks fabulous and oh, Yao, these are for you." Feliciano thrust the bright flowers at Yao.

"Don't think you can get out of trouble with flattery, Feli," Francis muttered, even as he flicked his hair vainly.

"Oh, um, thanks Feliciano." Yao took the flowers bewilderedly. "A thank you present?" The little Italian's greetings always left him a little dazed.

"No, someone was dropping them off for you out front so I said I'd take them." Feliciano bounced to the cupboard to fetch his apron.

"Someone was dropping them off?" Yao's heart leapt to his throat. Could Ivan have delivered them? Could he still be here? "What did they look like?"

"Some little kid." Feliciano wrinkled his nose and giggled. "He looked far too young for you, Yao."

Ah. Yao felt a little disappointed – it must have been Raivis who delivered the flowers. He tried to appear indifferent. "Don't be absurd." Yao searched the flowers for a note, eventually finding one lost somewhere in the middle of the huge bunch. He practically tore it open, devouring the words as Francis and Feliciano both hung over his shoulders.

Dear Little Dragon, I hope you are not too unwell feeling today. Russian wine is very strong! I enjoyed talking with you last night and I look forward to see you tomorrow afternoon. Yours, Ivan. :)

Yao laughed at the little smiley face. How appropriate. He read the words over and over… look forward to see you tomorrow afternoon… Yao could not keep from smiling himself. That short sentence alone was enough to flood Yao's mind with images from last night - Ivan's unfathomable smile; his consuming presence. Yao's chest ached to see the strange Russian again, to experience that vivid intensity he had felt while with him.

"Ooh, Yao, what's going on? Do you have a date?" asked Feliciano in a singsong voice. "Is he cute?"

Francis placed a hand to his chest and sighed dramatically. "So cute, Feli. Your type, actually - big, tall, blonde..."

Feliciano clapped his hands together and actually squealed. Yao's chest felt like it was filling with air. This reaction he preferred. But suddenly his grin faded. He looked at the flowers, glanced towards the front door, then looked up at Francis with furrowed eyebrows. "But... how did Ivan find out where I work?"

Francis raised an eyebrow, but he didn't seem too concerned. "You didn't tell him?"

Yao tried to remember. The end of his conversation with Ivan was something of a blur. "I don't think so…" Okay, slightly weird... Yao shrugged off the uneasy feeling. He probably had mentioned it somewhere along the way. "Look, do me a favour. Please don't mention the flowers to Alfred."

Francis winced sympathetically. "Playing the hero again, is he?"

Yao rolled his eyes. "You have no idea."

Francis placed a finger to his lips. "Not a word." Then he snatched the note from Yao's hand and read it over again. "Little Dragon, hmm?"

Yao could feel his cheeks burning. "Uh… yeah. He seems to call me that."

Francis looked impressed. "This Russian may be quite serious about you, mon cher."

Feliciano nodded in agreement. "That's true, you know, because you only give flowers to someone you like, so he must like you, and he wrote you a note too, and yay, Yao!" Feliciano threw an arm around Yao's shoulder and squeezed far too tightly. "I can't believe you actually have a date!"

Yao's stomach turned in fluttering knots. He ignored the tiny worry in the back of his mind. Everyone he knew seemed amazed that he had a date. And yeah, okay, that was kind of amazing – but what was more amazing was that Yao was actually really, really excited about it. Yao just smiled superiorly at Feliciano and placed the sunflowers in a glass by the sink. "Believe it, Feli," he said simply. "I have a date."

.

Next Chapter (Original)

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[theloudmute-deadaccountwheee]

Meet Marv!

*Anti stood outside his local shop, texting Dark that he’d be home soon. Snow gracefully floated from the sky and melted as soon as it hit the concrete and asphalt. With plastic grocery sack in hand, he made his way to the crosswalk. He wasn’t too far from home. And Anti loved walking in this weather. The snow was a small distraction from his task at hand; finding some way to bring Mute back. 

He came upon a crosswalk, just a few blocks from home. He looked to the sky and let the snow fall on his face; it always made him feel like he was traveling amongst the stars. His gaze return to the road ahead. He looked left. No cars. He looked right. No cars...but atop the brick fence next to him perched a short haired white cat, licking it’s paw* 

Anti: Well hey little guy! 

*the cat’s ears fell* 

Anti: Oh. What’s wrong? 

*Anti examined the cat further. on it’s forehead, in a diamond shape, were the four symbols associated with a deck of cards; heart, spade, club, and diamond* 

Anti: Woah! That’s really neat, kitty! 

*the cat perked up, lifting it’s chin. Anti extended his hand, gingerly. the cat sniffed Anti’s hand...sniffed again...and then pushed it’s head into Anti’s hand. Anti rubbed the cat’s hand and scratched under it’s chin* 

Anti: You’re just precious. Whatchya doin’ out in the cold, kitty? *it dawns on Anti that this cat has no collar* ...do you have a home? 

*the cat notices that Anti quit petting and rubs it’s cheeks on Anti’s hand. Anti continues to pet the cat. He knows he and Dark have never talked about having any animals...but he had to bring this cat in. at least for the night* 

Anti: Hey you uh...you wanna come home with me? 

*the cat delightedly hops onto Anti’s shoulder and perches, almost like a parrot*

Anti: Well, alright then!!! 

Anti and Dark’s Home   

*Anti walks through the door, ducking so he wouldn’t hit the cat’s head on the doorway. Dark is sitting on the couch with one of the many plates of cookies given to them by various tumblr users, watching an episode of The Game Grumps playing Doki Doki Literature Club. Anti takes off his scarf and places it on a coat hanger* 

Anti: Heeeeyyy Daaaark. 

Dark: *Dark munches on a cookie and turns to face Anti* Hey, man. *he looks back at the TV...then slowly turns his head back to Anti* ...is that a cat?

Anti: *Anti holds out his hands and the cat hops into Anti’s arms, allowing itself to be cradled* Okay, so, we never talked about having pets, I know, but it’s cold and--

Dark: Dude, calm down. I don’t care what you bring into this house- as long as it doesn’t bother me.

*the cat leaps from Anti’s arms and lands on the couch, then crawls onto Dark’s lap and exposes it’s belly, wriggling around*

Dark: ...hello...cat...*Dark notices the symbols on the cat’s forehead* Woah. Did this cat get branded or something? 

*Suddenly, the cat begins to glow. in the blink of an eye, the white cat transforms into a young girl with dark green hair and big, blue eyes, wearing a blue v-neck cardigan and black undershirt, along with a navy blue pencil skirt, knee high socks, and mary jane’s. her hair was cut similar to Jack’s. her white cat ears still remained* 

Dark: *instinctively, Dark pushes the girl off him to the other end of the couch, and he scoots the the opposite end* WH-WHOA WHOA WHOA WHAT THE FUCK?!

Anti: Oh...my god.  

Cat Girl: Oh thank god! I didn’t think I was ever going to turn back. *she lifts her hands to her head and feels her ears* Oh damnit, those are still there.

Dark: CAN WE GO ONE DAY? CAN WE GO ONE FUCKING DAY WITHOUT CONTACT WITH SOME MAGICAL BULLSHIT?! 

Cat Girl: I’m sorry!!! I didn’t mean to make you angry!!! I was just so happy someone found me and--

Dark: ONE FUCKING DAAAAY. 

Anti: *Anti steps forward, setting down his grocery sack* You can understand why he’s freaking out though, right? I bring a cat home and...it transforms into a person? 

Cat Girl: You’re right, it’s such a long story and, and, I didn’t think I’d turn back so quickly! 

Anti: If you don’t mind, I’d like you to start explaining yourself.

Dark: *Dark jumps to his feet and heads to the kitchen* OF COURSE there’s a cat girl in our living room- of fucking course *his voice begins to trail off* there’s not a single day we can’t go without some magical maguffin popping up...

Anti: ...you gonna be okay Dark? 

Dark: *from the kitchen* OH YEAH. CAT GIRL, WANT ANYTHING TO DRINK? 

Cat Girl: A, um, a water, please.

Anti: So. What’s your story? Well, first off, what’s your name? 

Marv: You can call me Marv, if you like. I haven’t really come up with a proper name for myself yet. 

Anti: You don’t have a name? 

Marv: Well, my dead name is Marvin. Okay, lemme back up. I didn’t always have the ears and I wasn’t always a cat. For a really long time I’ve been struggling with my identity, you know? And um...a couple of days ago...I just accepted it, you know? I’m a girl. I always have been. And I...um...my sister, see, she let me borrow one of her outfits. And I put it on...and walked down stairs...to my parents. They were already furious. I came out to them...and they kicked me out. 

Anti: Oh, Marv...*Anti sits beside her and holds her hand* I’m so sorry. 

Marv: ...thank you. And um...I just...I left. And I walked about half a mile away from my house. Then I saw this bright light! The bright light turned into a little creature- like a little fairy! She was so pretty and so excited to see me. She told me that I was a magical girl! Apparently, she had been waiting for me to come out for a long time. She touched my wrist and these appeared! *she showed Anti her wrist to reveal the same symbols that were on her forehead as a cat*

Anti: So she gifted you magic? 

Marv: I guess so. She said she would be my guide. It was all so confusing and this was just, like, an HOUR after my parents kicked me out of the house! 

Dark: *Dark returned from the kitchen and threw a bottle of water at Marv; she caught it. He sat beside Anti and sunk into the couch* Of course magical girls are a thing. Of course. Why not? 

Anti: Let her finish.

Marv: Right, so, um...I don’t really know what happened, right? She was explaining magic to me and I sneezed and then all of a sudden I was a cat? And she hadn’t even told me her name-- everything was happening so quickly!!! She freaked out and said she could fix it and floated away. 

Anti: Seriously? That’s messed up. 

Marv: Right?! And why just GIVE me magic when I have no idea how to use it?! 

Anti: So how did you end up at that crosswalk? 

Marv: I just walked around, hoping someone would find me. Everyone who saw me would just play with me and pet me but you’re the only one that took me home. 

Dark: How did you JUST NOW turn back into a human? 

Marv: I have NO idea. I’m so confused...I miss my sister...I miss...*sniffle* I miss my parents. But they don’t love me anymore. 

Anti: They’re bound to still love you. They can’t just stop loving their child. 

Marv: My dad told me I was dead to him...

*they sit in silence, not sure of what to say* 

Dark: ...stay here for a while, kid. 

Marv: *Marv’s ears perk up* R-really? 

Dark: For a while. ‘till you can find a friend’s house or something. Or ‘till that fairy comes back. 

Marv: Th-thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!! 

Dark: So we’ve got a demon that can’t control his powers and a magical girl that can’t either. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m the most put together one in this house. 

Anti: Hey! But yeah, stay as long as you need. 

Marv: I promise, I’ll get back on my feet, I won’t be here for long. 

Dark: Start contacting your friends now.  While you have hands that can type and not paws. Computer’s upstairs. 

Marv: I will! Thank you, thank you!!! *Marv runs upstairs*

Anti: Thank you, for that. 

Dark: Yeah, yeah. Do you think that fairy was just a trickster or something? The fae are pretty annoying like that. 

Anti: I’m not sure. Maybe we’ll find out soon? 

Dark: Can’t things be quiet around here? Just once?    

[bastarduchiha-blog]

“i’m sorry for trying.”

sad but it has a good ending

“I’m sorry that I wasted my time letting you,” Madara grumbled as he loudly threw his fork down and proceeded to leave the restaurant. What a disaster- they hadn’t even ordered the appetizers yet. 

“Madara-” Tobirama called as he too abandoned their table and went outside. 

“I will speak to you out there but I won’t spend another second in this place. That is, if you can even keep your eyes on me,” snarling over his shoulder, Tobirama going pale. 

Winter was just recently seeping into Konoha, bristling winds but no snow yet. Madara burst through the icy doors and walked quickly to his home, the Senju sprinting to keep up with his long strides. 

“Madara-”

“Stop saying my name!” Furious, he turned on his heels so quick that Tobirama slammed into him, stumbling. He shoved the younger back, so angry he wasn’t even making eye contact. 

“Please,” Tobirama began, eyeing the other carefully. “Tell me what I did wrong. I would never want to hurt you-”

“Did you plan this?” Madara cut him off. “Did you know he would be there, too?”

Tobirama blinked quizzically, lips pursed in confusion. “No, of course not. How was I to know Minato would be at the same place as us tonight?”

“I don’t know!” Frustrated, he ran his hand through his messy hair. “As soon as you saw him, your face lit up like I have never seen it before. You nearly fell over yourself trying to hug and say hello to him, I’m surprised you didn’t invite him to eat dinner with you instead!” Jealously laced his bitter words, crossing his arms as he studied the other through his wild hair. 

“Madara,” Tobirama’s eyes widened in surprise as it all became clear to him. “You’re…you’re jealous? Of Mint?” It would almost be laughable if the Uchiha wasn’t so angry. 

“Mint! That was your nickname for him when you guys dated, right?” He was more hurt than angry but he wasn’t about to tell Tobirama that. “Enough of this- I don’t want to discuss this. Don’t contact me again, it’s over.” Before the other could protest, he turned again and sprinted home.

In a few flashes he was back at his mediocre living space. Now that he was alone, he hadn’t realized how tired he truly was. Leaning against his arm he unlocked the door and pushed himself in, slamming it behind him. As he removed his coat, he stared at the wall and thought about how badly the night had went on. 

It was great earlier, Madara picking Tobirama up and the two walking to the restaurant. When Tobirama had offered to hold hands he had rolled his eyes and made a big fuss, but his hands had been so soft and warm that he didn’t mind in the slightest. He just had to keep face after all. Madara, ghost of the uchiha, whose heart was warmed by soft hands and foolish red eyes? How embarrassing. Thankfully the Senju had enough sense to pretend he didn’t notice how much he cared. 

The restaurant was mildly full, not too busy but enough that no one was paying that much attention to them, something Madara was thankful for. Having been seated, they talked aimlessly about this and that, when Tobirama caught something over Madara’s shoulder. Turning his head, his heart dropped as he recognized the bombshell blonde and some friends of his. He felt his face heat up as he turned back to Tobirama and his partner’s face was lit up like he had just received some longly-awaited gift.  

Madara made no move to get up but Tobirama did, and chatted for a while with him, smiling at the ground and blushing every now and then, the Uchiha’s grip on his menu tight as he tore it slightly. When he finally decided to return, Tobirama cheerily chirped back what Minato was up to, finally reminiscing some fun facts about Minato, “Mint” as he called him, until Madara couldn’t take it anymore and had left. 

He hung his scarf and coat and threw his boats and socks aside as he made his way to the kitchen. Had he reacted poorly? Probably. Was he going to regret breaking up with Tobirama? Most definitely. He poured himself some sake but then put it aside and drank from the bottle. He had a few sips when suddenly there was loud banging at his door. Wow, I wonder who that could be, annoyance rising in him as he made his way to the door. 

“Madara, let me in I just want to talk and clear some things up. Please open up, I won’t leave unless you at least see me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose in anger, he huffed tiredly. “Idiot Senju,” he murmured. 

“What do you-” but Tobirama seized his chance and pushed into the house, closing the door behind him with his hands behind his back. “Tobirama-”

“No,” the other calmly replied with one finger raised. “Let me speak first.”

Madara’s eyes widened in surprise but he said nothing in retaliation, knowing the other meant business. He nodded to for him to come have this conversation in the living room. 

“Madara,” he began as they sat down. “I was just happy to see Mint-Minato again. I didn’t…it wasn’t like I was going to throw myself at him and leave you. And I know i might’ve come off a little overly enthusiastic but it was nothing more than that.” Tobirama smiled and grabbed Madara’s hand over the table, turning it over in his smooth palms. “I chose you, and I did that for a reason, dear.”

The Uchiha’s face flushed up as he squeezed the other’s hand, angry that he had gotten himself so worked up over nothing. “I-I’m sorry,” he replied back, relief coloring his speech that Tobirama wasn’t mad at his childish behavior. “I was just thought you would-”

“That I would leave you?” The other finished.

“I’m not used to being anyone’s first choice,” he admittedly embarrassedly as he stared at the floor. 

Tobirama chuckled and moved so that he was sitting beside the other. “Well, there’s a first time for anything, I suppose,” he took Madara’s face in his hands and kissed him gently, the other man holding him by the waist. He broke apart and trailed soft kisses down the Uchiha’s neck into his messy hair, pushing him back against the couch. “Now, I think we’ve wasted enough time already.” 

Flustered and caught off guard Madara sputtered, “But we didn’t even eat yet!” 

Tobirama blew raspberries into Madara’s neck, making the two laugh as he adjusted himself so he was flush with his waist. “That’s alright- I just want my dessert.” 

The Senju reached down and unfastened Madara’s pants as the other worked of his shirt. Once he was taken care of, Madara ran his fingers along the other and discarded his clothes, throwing them behind the couch carelessly. He wanted desperately to make up for lost time.

Tobirama positioned himself so that each of his legs were on either side of Madara’s body and bent down to capture the other’s lips in a heated kiss. Madara groaned under him, back arching as he raised his hands to squeeze and rub at Tobirama’s chest. He sat up on his elbows and bit down into the crook of Tobirama’s neck, hungrily grinding his teeth along his jawline. 

Tobirama moaned softly and moved his head back a bit allowing Madara more room to work with. The Uchiha moved down and bit at his chest and sucked hard on his smooth nipples. 

“Ah- be gentle, Maddie,” biting his lip as sharp teeth grazed him. “I only have one pair of those.”

Nipple still in his mouth, Madara laughed, pushing him softly. “Don’t say that when I have you in my mouth!”

Tobirama smiled and leaned over again to pull Madara into another kiss him before removing himself completely. 

“Are we done already?” He whined. “We were just getting started!” But his complaints were cut off immediately as Tobirama situated himself on his erection, taking it slowly as he eased himself down. 

“Ah, Tobirama, please don’t tease me,” he groaned as he threw his head back against the couch, one hand squeezing Tobirama’s waist. 

“I wouldn’t! I just want to-” he exhaled sharply as he moved up and down. “Wanna make it up to you.” 

Madara flushed even more, eyes shut as he thrusted his hips up to meet the other. “You’re going to kill me if you keep talking like that. I feel like such an asshole.”

“But you’re getting rewarded right? Seems like you got a pretty sweet deal today.”

Madara laughed huskily and continued pumping, Tobirama grinding down hard as he sensed the other reaching the end. The Uchiha pumped faster, finishing with a loud groan as Tobirama reached down and squeezed his hand.

He slicked himself off and moved slowly to rest on Madara’s chest, the room filled with their scents and pants. Tobirama turned and kissed him on the cheek, Madara kissing him sloppily on his forehead back as he rubbed at his side. 

“I’m sorry again.” He replied quietly once they caught their breaths. “I’m really sorry.”

Tobirama cuddled closer, wrapping his arm around his chest as his eyes fluttered sleepily. “It’s alright- I forgive you, a hundred times over.” He started to drift off to sleep before Madara’s stomach made such a loud rumble he pushed himself off in alarm. 

“What was that?!”

Sheepishly, Madara plopped himself up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t eat anything since this morning!” 

“You idiot-maybe I should’ve let you break up with me.” Tobirama pulled Madara off the couch and they made their way to the kitchen. “Eat something so we can get enough energy to go at it again.”

“Yes, sir,” Madara replied laughing, squeezing his hand as they walked. “Anything, for you.”