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sailorsoons · 3 months ago

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Blood & Popcorn (l.c)

PAIRING: Lee Chan x f. Reader

SUMMARY: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn.

WC: 11,315

AU: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

GENRE: Smut

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice.Alternating POVs and some time skips.

A/N: This was originally posted on my old blog, and is being reposted to celebrate Valentine's Day! Enjoy Chan and Bambi the way god intended.

A/N 2: Thank you to @daechwitatamic who beta read this and who this was dedicated to!

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“SO WHY NOT BLOOD AND PIZZA IF PIZZA IS ALWAYS INVOLVED BUT POPCORN ISN'T?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”

“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.”

“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?”

“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.”

“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match.

If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.

Mostly.

The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him.

Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.

“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”

You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”

“Order your own fries,” Chan says.

“Ugh. I already ate mine.”

“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.”

Our thing.

The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there.

There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories.

You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn.

Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away.

Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place.

The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm.

When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.

“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.”

Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she-”

“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.”

Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?”

“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin.

“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”

“He asked you to dinner!”

“As friends!”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.”

For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.

Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”

You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”

“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.”

Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care.

The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone.

“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.”

“I mean if you’ve got a date.”

That’s not the point, you want to scream at him.

Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe.

Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual.

It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so.

So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else.

“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.”

“Shua is a good guy.”

“Yeah. Yeah he is.”

Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying.

Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s.

Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years.

You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience.

He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home.

Wanna start coming here after class?

You did. And you had.

A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim.

“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words.

He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.”

You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”

He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?”

You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-

Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.”

“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.”

Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out.

“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.”

Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath.

“Why are you in here again?”

“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?”

“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.”

“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”

“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.”

“Isn’t that like… a movie?”

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it.

“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?”

Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then.

Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you.

For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets.

Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back.

“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.”

“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?”

“I don’t know that it’s canceled.”

“That really clarifies the issue.”

Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“He asked her on a date.”

“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.”

Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.”

“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.”

Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend.

“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.”

Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it.

The window of opportunity is gone.

Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different.

If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must.

The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.

Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place.

No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long.

Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress.

Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach.

The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him.

He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground.

Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod.

Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-

“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”

Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor.

The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner.

Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”

“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.

Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink.

“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?”

“Nope.”

“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”

Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.”

“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.”

“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”

“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.”

“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.”

Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room.

“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.”

And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to.

“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.”

Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs?

Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.

Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?”

Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back.

The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.”

Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”

“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.”

You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl.

“Do you want me to-”

“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!”

Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room.

You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet.

“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”

“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”

“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”

“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.” For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.”

Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall.

There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”

Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute.

The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade.

Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence.

Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-

“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”

“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.”

“Do you think he would… react poorly?”

“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”

“You sound so… saintly.”

“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”

You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”

“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”

“Bleh.”

Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know.

Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then.

Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”

Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual.

The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky.

Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-

Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer.

“Hi!”

“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head.

“Why would I do that?”

“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”

“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”

Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”

“Oh.”

You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?”

“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.”

It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable.

A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for.

You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed.

“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.”

“I’m here.”

“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.”

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!”

“For sure.”

When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame.

Chan can’t do this.

Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all.

But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast.

Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment.

From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-

“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”

“I apologize, that was rude of me.”

“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.”

“What?”

“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.”

Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”

“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.”

“That easy to read, huh?”

“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.”

“Understandable.”

Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people.

“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”

“Sure.”

“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”

Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”

And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone.

Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call.

Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours.

The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart.

Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now.

Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has.

Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.”

A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person.

Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing.

Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except-

“Chan?”

It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow.

Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why are you crying?”

Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch.

He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?”

You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.

A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again.

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.”

“I-”

A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe.

“Oh, Bambi.”

“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”

“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will.

“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”

Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.

For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning.

Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time.

The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip.

Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes.

“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”

You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth.

“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”

“I was afraid too.”

“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him.

Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years.

“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”

“What a stupid man I am.”

You smirk a little. “Yes.”

“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?”

The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.

“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.”

His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”

Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you.

“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”

“I wear them all the time.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”

“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”

“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.”

“I really didn’t know.”

He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.”

With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take.

You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.

The light from your hall glows behind Chan, halloween him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence.

Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him.

“Kiss me,” you beg.

He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze.

“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”

You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again.

It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.

“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.”

“Chan.”

“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.”

“I want you.”

“I might pass out due to sheer joy.”

“I have some ideas on how to revive you.”

He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Maybe.”

Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple.

You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm.

Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast.

The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.”

“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.”

You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath.

Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan.

Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut.

You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking.

“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.”

And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him.

Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving.

Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break.

He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently.

“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.”

“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.”

He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.”

“Like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.”

Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you.

You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly.

A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.

“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you.

One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy.

“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.”

“Oh?”

“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”

“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.”

“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.”

He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?”

“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.”

“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?”

You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again.

“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?”

“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.”

He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.”

Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance.

“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”

“Okay?”

“Very. Just- slow.”

“You got it, baby.”

The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess.

Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier.

“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.”

You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?”

“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?”

“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.”

Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible.

Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch.

Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”

You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.

A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?”

He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”

You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm.

Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles.

“Hmm?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we shower?”

“We?”

You grin. “You speak French?”

“I speak pussy.”

“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.”

“Oui.”

“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”

“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”

“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.”

“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”

You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”

“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.”

You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower.

“You are good looking.”

“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”

“Well your jokes aren’t very good.”

He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you.

“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”

“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.”

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#lee chan smut #chan smut #dino smut #dino svt #svt smut #chan x reader #dino reader #dino fanfic #svt fanfic #sventeen smut #dino x you #dino x reader

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ritzeldraws · 7 days ago

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Queen Ariel, mother of sea dragons and slayer of sea witches. 🧜‍♀️

Need a version of the Little Mermaid where Ariel does NOT want to be where the people are, is cursed with legs, and has to find a way to break the curse and return to her throne to defeat the witch that usurped her. Maybe there’s a heart-of-gold prince there to help her?

Anyway, happy Mermay everyone!

#mermay #the little mermaid #princess ariel

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bubblez-bubble · 3 months ago

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The Alvarez Arc was never about Zeref vs Natsu.

It was about Zeref vs Lucy.

Hear me out.

And this may be a bit of a stretch but try to bare with me.

So the Alvarez Arc (AA) is essentially the arc of one brothers army vs another's. At least on the surface. But the main focus of the AA was Natsu's transformation and Zerefs reveal.

After Zeref reveals his and Natsus true identities to Natsu and Happy, Zeref then makes it a point from then on to try and get Natsu to change into his demon form, knowing that Natsu would probably have a hard time controlling it and would destroy everything and everyone in his path just to kill him.

Thankfully, Zeref was only half right. As evident by his four warnings to Gray to get out of his way, Natsu still had some form of control over his actions. This was because his only thoughts were getting rid of Zeref who started the war leading to Lucy's "death." He was driven by revenge, which was what Zeref wanted, as to why he painted himself as the bad guy.

But one thing Zeref hadn't really counted on was Natsus bond with one of his guildmates in particular. Zeref knew who Lucy was from the jump as she and Anna look basically identical. That and Anna and Zeref agreed it would be up to Anna's bloodline to look after the original eclipse project as well as the dragon slayers once they passed through to the other side. So right away, Zeref knows Lucy's goal is protecting Natsu and staying by his side.

So during the AA, it only makes sense that at every turn when Zeref thought he was winning, Natsu would make some miraculous return and start the fight over. But did Zeref know why or how?

Of course he did. Because that was the Heartfilia family's job. To protect and look after the dragon slayers, Natsu included.

So, when Zeref almost got his way the first time and Natsu "lost control," who brought him back to reality (with a little help from Erza)?

Lucy.

When Natsu was knocking on deaths door on the ground with a hole in his gut, who literally took on a curse that Zeref placed on the book, essentially risking their life to rewrite Natsus book, bringing him back from the brink of death to fi is the fight?

Lucy.

Even during Dragon Cry, Lucy is still a thorn in Zerefs side by showing Natsu throughout the movie that she'd always accept him no matter what form he took on, giving Natsu a sense of security, making Zerefs plan to break Natsu down until he's a mindless monster essentially impossible.

Every time during the AA and Dragon Cry movie when it seemed Zeref was finally going to get what he wanted, Lucy came in and snuffed all of his plans out like a candle.

And Zeref by the end could only watch as a human tamed one of his demons. His most powerful demon at that.

Lucy was even almost kind of acknowledged as Natsus reason to live. (As he did try to kill Zeref fully conscious of what he was doing and knowing it would kill him too when he thought she was dead.)

Zeref even tried to play mind games with Natsu but got blocked because the only thing on Natsus mind was Lucy and her life.

The entire AA is literally just Zeref telling Natsu one thing to make him feel terrible and Lucy reassuring him that it wasn't true.

Zeref even tried to make Natsu feel guilty about Lucy rewriting his book, essentially signing her own death warrent, only for Natsu to brush it off because he had more faith in her than some curse Zeref put on a book.

Every time Zeref tried to get into Natsus head, whether Lucy was there or not, her voice always seemed to ring through louder than Zerefs.

The entire arc is a battle for Natsus mentality and its not even being fought by Natsu.

Natsus fighting the physical battle, but Lucy was fighting for Natsus humanity. She was fighting for Natsus life.

In the end she won, and Zeref took the loss with a smile on his face, knowing that somehow a human girl had defeated him in a mental battle over his brother's life.

And he even took pride in it.

Pride in the fact Natsu had found someone who would go to such great lengths, even so far as challenging Zerefs curse power in order to save Natsus life.

That's what the whole arc was, a battle for Natsus fate. A battle that Lucy won and Zeref was happy about it.

Even Mavis knew only Lucy could challenge Zerefs power and change Natsus fate, leaving Lucy with the book as she went to help Natsu confront Zeref.

The one who decided Natsus fate vs the one who changed it.

#can we talk #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #anime #lucy heartifilla #nalu #zeref dragneel #fairy tail anime #fairy tail zeref

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felassan · 5 months ago

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard art book pages, under a cut due to spoilers:

Scoundrels The scoundrels were an idea to add unique encounters to spice up combat and imply narrative depth. These would be like Batman B villains that cross your path, mess with you, and then run off to bother you another day. The main criteria was that they should be built using existing assets (some of the most rewarding work happens within extreme limitations). Right: The stalker that will never die (returned from Origins). Center: The hardest part about designing scoundrels is knowing you won't be able to build them all (yet). We liked the idea of them joining forces and creating an "anti-party: a group that could specifically counter each of your followers. Illustration labels: The Mouse, Stalker, Son of Sky Watcher, The Blacksmith, The Blood Witch, The Golden Mercenary, The Professor, The Librarian, The Beast, The Owl Gang, The Fox, The Fist, The Librarian, The Dove, The Spectre, The Champion, The Duelist, The Hunter

Illustration labels: The Lava Queen, The Artifact, The Interogator, The Flame, The Black Dragon, The Cartographer, The Marshal, The Blackbird, The Faithless, The Deadly Stillness, The Prince, Madam Venatori, Prof. Skeleton, The Swarm, The Beyondernaught, The Bank, Mournwatch Soldier, Poltergeist, Necroknight

Top: Scoundrels were originally proposed as a replacement for the Inquisitor's judgement scenes. After defeating a scoundrel, you would have a choice about how to deal with them. Bottom: If you killed a scoundrel, you could take their weapons and costume (no matter how outlandish). Or you could spare their life and call on them for a favor later on down the road.

The scoundrels also offered the opportunity to give more faces to the various regions and factions of Thedas. Tevinter libraries may be vast, but how much more vast do they seem if they produce a scoundrel like "the Librarian"?

Bellara Bellara is a Dalish technomancer. When the elven gods emerged, the blighted energy that they brought caused previously dormant elven artifacts to come to life, and Bellara focused her energy on learning how they worked for the benefit of both her fellow Dalish elves and her teammates. Top right: The first sketches of Bellara started with the description of "Jules Verne dork". Center left: She's very intense. She tries to be focused - but attempts too many things at once and ends up getting overwhelmed and not doing any of them, which makes her feel guilty. She then compensates by taking on too much once again. Center right: The rings on Bellara's gauntlet rotate and then lock in place. Bottom left: Bellara's gauntlet allows her to interact with ancient elven technology. ^ Illustration annotations: Moving/semiliquid mirror particles, Also portal for shards, Eluvian map

Top: We designed her to look like the elven version of an academic doing research in the field. Semiformal but simple elven clothing, with every piece of gear she thinks she might need, as well as room to store any fascinating specimens. Center: She likely will never unfold her eluvian map in-game, but we know it's there. Bottom: An unused endgame appearance: Bellara as the new icon of the splendor of the ancient elven empire.

Left: Bellara's space is mostly a workshop where she can continue her research. It's full of ancient elven artifacts, Veil Jumper tools and furniture, and lots and lots of mirrors. Right: Hanging elven artifacts, a metaphor for the weight of her mission pressing down on her.

Left: Hanging fabric to make it cozier. Right: A mirror with someone frozen in it.

Davrin He's an elf in his early thirties, but not a delicate, refined one. He's a monster slayer, tougher than your usual elf in stature and demeanor. Davrin is a seasoned veteran trying to nurture good in a world that keeps throwing evil at him. There's a confidence in him that comes from knowing he's good at what he does. He broke away from his elven clan in his teens because the insularity stifled him. He wanted adventure. Top right: He actively seeks the challenge of monster hunting to test and better himself, figuring if he can come out of a fight alive, it'll forge some steel in his soul. Center: We tried to find the right balance between his elven past and his Warden present. Center right: A soldier surviving in the wilderness. The armor is lighter but preserves the Warden quality. Many elements of his costume are designed to look like pieces he created or modified for himself out in the field with available materials. Bottom: Fighting Elgar'nan's darkspawn at Weisshaupt.

Assan and his siblings are the first live griffons we've seen in Dragon Age. Much like medieval illustrations of exotic animals, there is a slight disparity between living griffons and their artistic representations.

Top right: Classically, griffons' bodies are based on large cats. The bodies of Thedas's griffons are based more on dogs, specifically Great Danes. Center: Assan was a rare first-draft design. The first image of him was exactly right. Center left: An unused endgame appearance for Davrin with a matching "griffon commander" set for him and Assan, marking him as the head of the newly formed griffon cavalry unit. Bottom right: Each one of Davrin's carvings represents countless hours of tracking, studying, and hunting - a symbol of his accomplishments as he carves his way through the monster world, beast by beast.

Left: Davrin's room was meant to allow for lots of natural light and fresh air (as much as you can get in the Fade). Right: Davrin's area is filled with monster-slaying tools and research, as well as a generous number of perching options for Assan.

Emmrich Emmrich is a professor specializing in death magic, hexes, and necromancy. Despite his mastery of dark arts, Emmrich is a friendly, energetic man who loves company and adventure. Deeply curious about everything, especially magic, he's kept himself active by exploring the dangerous catacombs underneath his city and can more than handle himself in a fight. He's part of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers who protect the world of the living from occult horrors. Right: Emmrich is a very emotive talker: he gesticulates, underlines points with his hands, etc. His enthusiasm comes through transparently in his body language. Left: For his outfit, we explored a combination of academic, mortician, and conductor.

Left: Emmrich's work encompasses death and grief. He's sensitive to how they leave people vulnerable and in need of compassion and kindness. He has a deep well of both, especially for his friends. Right: A regal-looking lich.

Top left: Emmrich has always had thanatophobia - he is a necromancer afraid to die. Through long study and rituals, he's discovered a way to cheat death by becoming undead himself. Center top: Events of the game force him to choose between this strange immortality and reviving a dear friend. Top right: Emmrich must decide to make peace with dying or seize immortality, but either way he comes to a better relationship with death. Bottom: Manfred's space is ideal for studying death and magic in equal measure.

Top center: Emmrich has a collection of artifacts used to study the esoteric. Top right: Emmrich's Fade telescope. If you dare to look, make sure you're not alone. Center left: A Nevarran teapot that belonged to Emmrich's mother. Center: We gave him "guts" made from useful containers Emmrich might need out in the field. Center right: What can be said about Manfed? He is Emmrich's loyal assistant, mentee, and friend.

Harding The dwarf scout from Dragon Age: Inquisition. The girl next door that develops mysterious, powerful abilities connected to the ancient past of her fellow dwarves. Compassionate and cheerful, she is the heart and conscience of the team. Harding strives to remain true to herself and her humble upbringing even as she is flung into darkness and world-changing threats. Center: Harding is the moral compass of the group. A kind woman, she has an optimistic outlook and views the world and those who live in it as inherently good, even as she faces monstrous evils. She does not view attributes like empathy as weaknesses but strengths. A friend to everyone on the team. Bottom: We tried to make Harding's outfit an evolution of an Inquisition uniform. We imagined her on a mission, waiting for days in a sniper perch, biding her time by embroidering beautiful patterns into her sniper cloak.

Top left: Harding must deal with her newfound Stone-based powers that she inadvertently acquires during an early mission in the game. Top right: Even with her new powers, Harding would still be an archer. It was fun to explore what that might look like. Center left: In the early stages, Harding's Stone powers were more extreme, including her skin transforming during combat. Center left 2: It was challenging to make the stone skin look appealing and not like an infection. Bottom left: Harding has a green thumb. Over the course of the game she transforms a dead space into a lush garden (a feat even more impressive in the Fade). Bottom right: A corrupted red lyrium version.

Lucanis A trained assassin possessed by a demon of spite, Lucanis is constantly battling to control the darkness within himself. He is a black-hat badass who can kill anything. As a member of the Antivan Crows, Lucanis feels a sense of loyalty to his house that goes beyond duty or monetary gain. Family is as ingrained in him as holding a dagger the correct way. Center: Lucanis dresses in the Antivan Crows' interpretation of a simple black suit. Center right: Though a hardened killer, Lucanis is cultured and comfortable in both upper-class and underworld social settings. He studies his enemies, learning and testing their weaknesses before striking. Bottom: Lucanis tries not to sleep, so his room is sparse and brooding.

Center left: A pragmatic and confident gangster with a dry, dark sense of humor. He offers no apologies for being morally gray. Center: Calculated and ruthless, he fights with an effortless grace that comes from years of training and experience. Center right: He is an executioner who always gets his mark.

Neve Magical noir detective in the big city. She cares more about everyday people with "right-now problems" than the big picture. Word spread through Minrathous that she'd help people both on and off the record, so she works whatever cases come her way that are worth taking. Her motto: she takes a job, she finishes it, she walks away... If only things were ever that simple. Her fighting style is low, broad, staccato, and effortless. Center: We found consultations with amputees to be very valuable in helping us design not only a stylish and practical prosthetic for Neve, but also the accompanying accessories. Center left: Her ascot is designed to evoke a pit of snakes. Bottom right: The dark elements on her shoulders are based on shoulder holsters.

Top: Neve's outfit is a mix of detective and femme fatale. Center left: As mentioned earlier, Neve's place on the team was originally occupied by the returning villain Calpernia from Inquisition. After the decision to create a new character, the first versions of Neve's design were "Calpernia as a detective". Center right: A cynic with a heart of gold, Neve is clever, driven, and guarded. She has a dry but playful sense of humor. Beneath her nonchalant attitude is someone who cares about what they do and wishes things were better. She can act comfortable in upper-class situations, but she's known to be an outsider, and she's truly in her element in Minrathous's less-rich neighborhoods. Bottom right: Meeting with consultants changed everything about how we designed her prosthetics and equipment. The first impulse was to make something flashy and multipurpose. Instead, we chose not to draw too much attention to it, lest it distract from her character.

Top: Another lesson we learned from the consultants was to not make her prosthetic central. It's off to the side, just a normal part of her day. Bottom: Neve's desk. Humble by Tevinter standards and marked with serpent imagery.

Center: Neve's room is the cassic gumshoe film noir office, with moody lighting and a wall of evidence that grows throughout the game.

Taash As someone who grew up in the free-spirited, multicultural country of Rivain but was raised to respect the Qunari heritage, Taash is a dragon-hunter who walks in two worlds. Top left: Taash can breathe fire thanks to remnants of Qunari dragon blood. Top right: With Taash we tried to find a good balance between Qunari heritage (rope, dragon skin) and Lords of Fortune allegiance (coins, jewelry).

Top left: Taash's idle pose was drawn to give the impression of a fighter after a match. Top right: Taash understands dragons on an instinctual level and hunts and kills any that are a danger to people. Taash is a part of the Lords of Fortune faction, adventurers who seek dragons worth slaying and treasure worth taking. A pair of axes and light armor allow for quick movement - and even getting onto the backs of large enemies.

Getting the Gang Together The characters were largely approved, and this was the first time we saw them all assembled.

Varric It's a joy to revisit characters. It's a great opportunity to visually tell the story of all the years we've missed. Varric is older, a little scruffier, maybe preferring comfort to style as his adventuring days near their end. He's also let go of some of his old priorities, not needing to be flashy, not as concerned about keeping his beard short. We also decided to go with a darker and more washed-out color palette, for reasons that people who have played through the game will understand. Top left: Varric spends the majority of the game bedridden, so we wanted to make the severity of his injuries visible. ^ Illustration annotations: back, front Top right: It's not just Varric that has been on a journey. We wanted to show that Bianca had been well loved over the past decade. Bottom left illustration annotations: Custom-engraved metal plate. Swappable lens. Gem affects abilities. Bianca's scarf. Retractable; see rail on original. Engraved. Rear. Stock made from ancient myrtle tree. Finish is black with hints of blond patterns. Edges line in ivory, while ornate designs are metal. Bottom right: An ancient elven room converted into an infirmary, where Rook recovers.

Solas While known as Solas in present-day Thedas, he was once known as Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, the elven god of betrayal. In ancient times, he rebelled against the other gods, the Evanuris, and sealed them away from the living world, behind the Veil. Solas's true identity remained hidden from the world through the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition and was revealed in the Trespasser DLC. During that time, he was an Inquisition follower masquerading as a simple hedge mage. Top left: Solas's outfit is designed to represent that he has stopped hiding. He is committed to his path, and so he returns to dressing like he did in the old days. Right: The central MacGuffin of the game is Solas's lyrium dagger. Originally it was hidden away in the idol from Dragon Age II. Bottom left: One of the palettes Solas used when painting one of his many historical and confessional murals. Bottom center: Most of the elven gods had dragons. Ever the outsider, Solas instead embraced the Dread Wolf nickname on a grand scale. This creature was based on one of Solas's cards from Inquisition.

some other pages -

Some opening pages

Foreword

Google Books preview pages Part One

Google Books preview pages Part Two

Amazon preview pages

Page batch

Page batch 2

Book art credits:

BioWare art: Matt Rhodes, Ramil Sunga, Albert Urmanov, Christopher Scoles, Nick Thornborrow, Steve Klit

Volta art: Gui Guimaraes, Stéphanie Bouchard, Akim Kaliberda, Alejandro Olmedo, Alexey Zaryuta, Julien Carrasco, Maksim Marenkov, Marianne Martin, Mariia Istomina, Marion Kivits, Matti Marttinen, Mélanie Bourgeois, Pablo Hurtado De Mendoza, Rael Lyra, Rodrigo Ramos, Thomas Schaffer, Tiago Sousa, Tristan Kang, Vladimir Mokry, Yintion J, Joseph Meehan, Stefan Atanasov, Julien Carrasco

Additional art: Marc Holmes, Thomas Scholes

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #injury cw #blood cw

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tangledbea · 14 days ago

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Creatures and Races from Tangled the Series

Specifically, the ones featured in my picker wheel.

Hyper-Intelligent Animal

Are you an animal sidekick in Tangled? Then you're hyper-intelligent! Hyper-intelligent animals appear in most -- if not all -- episodes.

Ghost/Spirit/Poltergeist

Whether they have a mind of their own like Ruth or a mindless need to protect the Moonstone, ghosts are real in this series! Ghosts/Spirits/Poltergeists appear in S1Ep13 "The Wrath of Ruthless Ruth" and S2Ep24 "Destinies Collide Part 2."

Uumlaut

Don't let the cute face fool you, this critter is a swarm waiting to happen! The uumlaut appears in S1Ep15 "The Way of the Willow."

Demon/Warlock

There can be only one Big Bad in this series! (Unless you landed on Demon/Warlock on the picker wheel, in which case you're one, too!) Demon/Warlock appears in several episodes -- any featuring Zhan Tiri/Enchanted Girl, primarily in season three.

Disciple of Zhan Tiri

Two of the three known Disciples got a nifty green spirit form! The Disciples of Zhan Tiri appear in S1Ep18 "Painter's Block," S2Ep19 "Mirror, Mirror," S2Ep20 "You're Kidding Me!" S2Ep21 "Rapunzeltopia," and S2Ep22 "Lost and Found."

Sneeze Weasel

Never trust Lance to find you a critter based on a crayon drawing Eugene made. Sneezy the sneeze weasel appears in S2Ep04 "Goodbye and Goodwill."

Slayer Wolf

How is a slayer wolf different from a regular wolf? It's bigger, I guess? More vicious? Anyway, slayer wolves were given a specific name, so they made the list! Slayer wolves appear in S2Ep05 "Forest of No Return."

Pupshroom

The Forest of No Return: where food eats you! Pupshrooms appear in S2Ep05 "Forest of No Return."

Drexes

A spider-bat creature big enough to eat a person! Drexes appear in S2Ep05 "Forest of No Return."

Bird Fae

Not only are they mysterious fancy people who inexplicably live in the middle of the woods and serve tea that turns people into birds and use mushrooms as patio furniture, they also vanish into a shower of sparkles when their tea set is destroyed. You can't convince me they're not fae. The bird fae appear in S2Ep06 "Freebird."

Kirlok

It's like a bear, but with way more horns! It also comes in adorable cub size! Kirloks appear in S2Ep08 "Keeper of the Spire," and S3Ep15 "Race to the Spire."

Lorb

The natives of Terapi Island, Lorbs are the leaf people with German accents. For some reason. The Lorbs appear in S2Ep09 "King Pascal," S2Ep11 "Happiness Is..." S3Ep12 "Islands Apart," and very briefly in S2Ep12 "Peril On the High Seas."

Mermaid

I'm sure you know what a mermaid is, but just in case you don't remember Seraphina, specifically... The mermaid appears in S2Ep10 "There's Something About Hook Foot."

Vodnik

They come in salt water and a light blue fresh (or frozen?) water variety! Vodniks appear in S2Ep10 "There's Something About Hook Foot," and S3Ep15 "Race to the Spire."

Mirror Doppelganger

It's like the real you, but an evil monster verson! Mirror doppelgangers appear in S2Ep19 "Mirror, Mirror."

Eyeball Spider

Not actually an eyeball, but with unfortunate markings that makes it perfectly suited to hide in otherwise empty skulls. Eyeball spiders appear in S2Ep22 "Lost and Found."

Werewolf

Though Tangled's werewolves have their own lore behind them that's different from what we usually think of, that's still a person transformed into a ferocious wolf! Werewolves appear in S3Ep04 "Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?"

Undead

These skeletal undead act as a sort of security system against thieves. There's only one way to stop them (and it's not a head shot, they'll just pull themselves back together again). The undead appear in S3Ep05 "The Lost Treasure of Herz der Sonne."

Sea Serpent

This mama will do anything to protect her eggs, including sinking your two-masted ship! The sea serpent appears in S3Ep08 "The King and Queen of Hearts".

Dragon

The dragons in Tangled hold the unique property of being able to transfer physical features and abilities to those they care about! Dragons appear in S3Ep11 "Pascal's Dragon."

Illusionary Wish Person

Wish on a coin and throw it into the well, but the person who appears won't have a shadow. The illusionary wish person appears in S3Ep12 "Islands Apart."

Giant Disembodied Hand

We don't know what this thing is, but it's aggressive and doesn't like Eugene! Fortunately, it can be defeated with a little hand-to-hand combat. The giant disembodied hand appears in S3Ep15 "Race to the Spire."

Giant Mole

Completely blind, this creature lives entirely underground and relies on her sense of hearing to navigate. She carries her baby on her back or head. The giant moles appear in S3Ep16 "A Tale of Two Sisters."

Embodiment of a Celestial Gem

Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens... If you possess the celestial gem, you gain incredible powers based on a heavenly body. The embodimets of a celestial gem appear through the entire series, since Rapunzel is one the whole time, with varying degrees of her power awakened.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #TTS #Reference

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ladykailitha · 4 months ago

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The Last Dragon Slayer Part 2

Gosh! It has been far too long since I put out the first chapter (SEVEN WEEKS!!), so I definitely recommend rereading that!

Pt 1

In this we have Steffan and Edwin getting to know each other a bit.

Life was slow for Steffan for the first time in all his young years. He wanted for nothing. The dragon Edgewraith and by extension his servant, Edwin provided him everything he could ever want. Fine clothes, good food, and better company.

Edgewraith was witty and sardonic and Edwin was clever and wise.

Was it strange that the two were never in the same room at the same time? Of course it was. Steffan was not fooled. But he understood the need for it. After all, he was a former dragon slayer.

So Steffan quietly basked in the attention from both.

“Steffan?” Edwin called from the entrance to the cave. “Could you come help me with something?”

Steffan smiled from his place by the fire. He had been learning to whittle as something to do while his friend was away. He stood up and brushed the wood dust from his pants and walked to the entrance.

There next to Edwin were two large buck carcasses. They were beautiful and dried properly would last them all winter.

“Edgewraith did a fine job,” Steffan murmured and Edwin turned pink. “I’ll be happy to help you butcher them.”

They got to work, quickly stripping away the hide from the flesh and meat from the bone. “Why doesn’t the dragon butcher them with his claws? Surely he could make shift work of them.”

Edwin giggled. “Sure, if you want the hide rent into strips and the bones cracked into the meat. He’s great for killing and eating the beasts whole, not some much the precision of butchering.”

Steffan blinked for a moment and then nodded. “Point taken. Have you been with the dragon long?” He ducked his head to hide his smile and looked up at the other man through his eyelashes.

Edwin shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his blush and then realized his hands were covered in blood and other animal byproduct. “Oh gross!”

Steffan laughed and gently pulled off his gloves, careful not get anything on his hands. He grabbed a nearby bucket that had water in it for clean up. He cupped his hands and filled them with water. He brought the water over to Edwin and tenderly rinsed away the blood and guts.

“There you go,” he murmured. They were so close. Just a breath away from each other. Steffan wondered what it would be like to just. Let. Go.

Suddenly there was a blast from behind them of the local herald bringing the sheep to the bottom of the mountain.

Steffan stepped back and said softly, “I’ll go grab the sheep, you finish up here.”

Edwin nodded shyly and allowed Steffan to move past him. Edwin looked over his shoulder and watched as the former knight vanished over the hill.

By the time Steffan returned, the meat was curating and Edwin had cleaned himself and everything up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more help,” Steffan murmured, following Edwin through the caves with the three new sheep in tow. “And that comment about Edgewraith not doing the work was uncalled for.”

“It’s all right,” Edwin said with a shrug. “The work got done and it was a fair question. I know you meant no harm.”

“I’m glad, because no offense was meant.” Steffan let the sheep into the pen, joining their sisters in their bleating. “If you would like, I could make dinner as recompense.”

Edwin smiled. He had learned early on that Steffan was really good making good food that lasted a long time. “That would be wonderful.”

Steffan smiled back. “Do you think that I could go rabbit hunting tomorrow? Maybe even catch a few game birds.”

“Poaching on the king’s property?” Edwin teased. “Whatever shall you do next?”

Steffan grinned. “As if the farmers and shepherds don’t go a hunting on the king’s land,” he said with a scoff. “In fact I’ll ask one of the kids that like to try and sneak up the mountain for a peak at the dragon where the best game hunting is.”

Edwin cackled. “Those kids,” he said shaking his head. “They should be careful or Edgewraith will catch them and they’ll die of fright.”

“Of excitement, maybe,” Steffan teased back. “I saw one of them with a black kite the other day. Shaped like our dragon friend.”

Edwin turned pink again but this time there was nothing to stop him from shoving his hair in his face to hide his blush.

“That’s cute,” Edwin murmured. “But he is dangerous and these steep mountain hills just as. I’ll tell them off.”

Steffan snorted, shaking his head. “I’ve tried, perhaps you’ll fair better.”

Edwin grinned. “I know just the thing to dissuade them from climbing up the mountain.” He walked over to a chest and pulled out a small-ish box. It was old and battered, but clearly loved.

He opened it and Steffan peered around his shoulder to see inside. It’s filled with toys and old clothes, much too small for either of them.

“What’s all this then?” Steffan asked, curiously.

“These are for dress-up,” Edwin said simply, “children, no matter the age love dressing up. Times change the characters not the joy.”

Steffan smiled fondly. Edwin again spoke if he was older than his tender face belied. He hoped one day that Edwin would find the courage to tell him he was the dragon, but until then he would keep his friend’s secret.

“I’ve been whittling of late,” he said brightly. “Perhaps I could make toy swords and shields.”

Edwin’s eyes lit up. “That would be grand idea!” He grabbed Steffan by the wrist. “Come, I’ll show you where keep the best wood.”

Steffan laughed as he followed him to another portion of the cave.

“This is where I–” Edwin stopped with a blush. “where Edgewraith keeps the wood for making furniture and the like, the rest goes for kindling and firewood.”

The wood was beautiful. He went through the pile admiring the different kinds of wood. He looked back at Edwin. “Are you sure you wish me to use this for toys?”

Edwin nodded. “Of course. I won’t need it for some time, and I know where to get more. That’s the best part about living with a dragon, you can get far quickly and return.”

Steffan gathered up what he would need and then Edwin showed him where he could find the tools he would need.

“Living long sure has its perks,” Steffan teased. “Always learning new skills.”

Edwin frowned at him a moment. “What do you mean?”

Steffan blanched, realizing he had slipped up. He coughed and turned his head. “Being able to spot good wood from so high up, that must have taken Edgewraith quite some time to learn.”

Edwin blinked for a moment. “Oh! Right. Of course. I thought you had meant me. That would be silly.”

“Very,” Steffan said dryly. He stood up with his load. “It shouldn’t take me very long to finish these. They don’t have to be battle ready after all. Just balanced enough that children can play with them.”

“I’ll air out the clothes and see if any of the other props need fixing,” Edwin said, smiling brightly.

Steffan smiled back and let the excited man lead him back into the cave proper.

It took them two days and during those two days Edgewraith would perch at the bottom of the mountain on an outcropping, daring the children to try and climb up the mountain. But as the children were there to see him and so it’s really win/win.

Then Edwin and Steffan come down the mountain with their treasures. There are four children who come every day with a trio of girls who only come if they finish their chores in time.

Matthew likes to believe he’s the leader, but it’s Dylan. Laurus and Wymond kept out of that particular pissing match, content to just play. Laurus’s father was a Moor by way of Rome who had settled in the area and was too good a blacksmith for anyone to think twice about the color of his skin. Matthew and Wymond were sons of shepherds and Dylan was the son of a well known seamstress.

The girls were Eligia, Laurus’s little sister, Eliwen, the daughter of the king’s watch, and Morwen. Well, it was technically Morwenna, but she would bite you if you dared call her that. Her mother was a barmaid at one of the town’s taverns.

All the kids were there waiting to see the dragon. They were surprised to see not one, but two men coming down from the dragon’s cave.

“Has the dragon taken you prisoner?” Matthew asked. “Because we can help you escape if you want.”

“You can’t just ask if someone is a prisoner, Matthew!” Morwen huffed, smacking the back of the boy’s head.

Steffan and Edwin laughed. “No, we’re not prisoners,” Edwin promised. “We help the dragon do things that it cannot in exchange for protection and food and shelter.”

“Have you seen the dragon’s hoard?” Dylan asked excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

This time Morwen smacked the back of his head. “Were the lot of you raised in a barn? God. You’ll pardon these idiots. They have but one brain cell between them.”

Edwin cackled. “It’s all right.” He turned to Dylan. “I have see the dragon’s hoard, but not every dragon hoards gold and silver, and precious gems. What do you think the dragon, Edgewraith, hoards?”

“I bet it’s books!” Wymond said excitedly. “My mother is teaching me to read and do math. I know I would hoard books if I was a dragon,” he added wistfully.

“No!” Matthew huffed, crossing his arms. “I bet it’s the skulls of his enemies, like when he posted the head of the last dragon slayer!”

Steffan and Edwin shared a glance.

“That’s vulgar, Matthew!” Eliwen said. “Did your mother raise you in a barn?”

Matthew blinked at her a moment. “No, but I was raised in a pasture, does that count?”

Eliwen sputtered and stammered trying to get herself out of that one while the rest of the children laughed.

Steffan decided to take the attention off the poor girl and brought forth their prizes. “Come see what we brought you.”

All the kids swarmed the trunk and gasped when Edwin opened it with flourish. There were dresses and robes and capes of all shapes and sizes. Crowns, tiaras, rods, and wands were littered among the swords and shields Steffan had made.

“This will be for your use,” Edwin explained. He held up one finger. “On the condition you don’t go climbing that mountain to see the dragon. He’ll still come and visit on occasion, but every day, either Steffan or I or both will bring the trunk down for you to play with. And then when the sun begins to set, we’ll take it back up so that it doesn’t get ruined by the elements.”

All children agreed to the terms. And they tore the box with all the thrill and excitement they had in their little bodies.

Then Edwin and Steffan sat back to watch over their play.

Steffan enjoyed his time in the afternoons with the children. He would do the chores in the morning with Edwin, watch the children in the afternoon, and then spend the evening with the dragon.

Sometimes Edwin would come with him, but most of the time, he would stay in the cave. Steffan knew that this was when he would transform back into a dragon to hunt and search for supplies.

Steffan was stoking the fire to make bread when Edwin came in, startling the former knight. An ember sparked from stove landing on his leg.

“Steffan!” Edwin cried, “Your leg!”

“Oh!” Steffan cried, pulling the ember off his leg and tossing it into the fire. He brushed out the small flame in his pants with a sigh. “I liked these pants, for goodness sake.”

Edwin hurried over to him and checked his leg. But there was no mark at all. “Are you not hurt? Did it not burn?”

Steffan ducked his head to hide the flush of shame that darkened his cheeks. “A father’s blessing to the son he gave away. He made it so that Dragon’s Fire would never burn me. It has some rather unfortunate side effects.”

“Like not knowing you’re on fire?” Edwin asked with raised eyebrows. “That is pretty incredible. But seriously, you’re not hurt?”

Steffan smiled at Edwin. “Truly, I am not hurt. Just a pair of ruined pants is all. Maybe later, I’ll cut them up for scraps.”

“If that is what you wish,” Edwin said, “but how goes the baking?”

“Well,” Steffan huffed a bit of laughter, “other than setting myself on fire, it’s going pretty good. I was about to put the first loaf in.”

Edwin looked at the fire for a moment and cocked his head to the side as he considered it. “I’d wait another five minutes and then it’ll be perfect.”

Steffan stood up and cocked his head to side curiously. “Did the dragon teach you how to do that trick? Knowing how hot the fire is?”

He hoped this would be the opportunity Edwin needed to admit he was Edgewraith. But no.

“Something like that,” he said with a snort derision. “I’ll go bring you more firewood to keep the heat up.”

Steffan shook his head fondly as Edwin walked away muttering to himself about being more careful. He sighed and stoked the fire again. Then at the five minute mark, he put the bread into the oven.

Part 3 Part 4

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