#the ones that started a few months earlier have some “seniority” ego to them

[derikisu]

started sono school today and i feel like im back in high school

[immergladsss]

Moonacre Week 2021

Day 1: Zoom/Video Call

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31641653

“For next class, please read chapter 9 and be ready to discuss the social and political impact of the Norman Conquest on England—and don't forget, your essays are due this Friday. Have a wonderful day and stay safe!”

Maria watched, unblinking, as square after black square disappeared from the virtual ‘room’. Not even the professor had their camera on.

‘This meeting has been ended by the host.’

The zoom window finally closed.

Maria blinked.

4:56 pm read the time centered against the starlit wallpaper of her Mac book screen. She turned to look at her planner that was strewn over her bed.

No more classes for the day.

Maria fell back onto her bed with a groan. She rubbed her dry eyes, not caring one bit that she was smearing the little make-up she coaxed herself into putting on that morning.

“ 'Dress the part’ they said. ‘It'll make you feel normal’ they said,” Maria mumbled to herself.

She didn't feel normal, all she felt was drained. It was the start of her second year at university… and well over six months into a pandemic that showed no signs of stopping.

She raised her iphone. 4:57 pm. The locking screen was of her family. A picture taken the day of her nephew’s first birthday, December 2019. Georgie was centered in the picture, sitting between her uncle Benjamin and Loveday. Maria stood next to her uncle, leaning over his shoulder, while Ms. Heliotrope, their nanny, was by her side with an arm around her back. To Loveday’s other side was Loveday’s father, Mr. De Noir, and her brother, Robin.

Maria wiped her eyes with the hem of her t-shirt. It felt like an eternity since she last saw them. She missed them. Unlike her roommates, she didn’t move back home at the beginning of lockdown. She had just started an internship, one that was supposed to go well into the summer. Yet only 3 months later, she and the rest of the interns were dismissed, with promises to still receive full class credits.

With public transportation being the only way to get home, she didn’t want to risk her or her family’s safety. Yet day after day, her longing for home depressingly grew like the number of covid cases.

María turned on her side and clicked her laptop back on. She opened her FaceTime app and typed in Loveday’s name.

She propped herself on her elbow and began the call. As she waited, she grimaced at her disheveled appearance. Her red curls were in a messy bun, black mascara smeared around her eyes, her university-themed t-shirt was slipping over her shoulder. The very picture of a work-from-home student.

Lately, she and Loveday had begun a new game, ‘Fashion: Covid’. They would jokingly judge each other's "outfit”, as well as the rest of the family’s, as though they were judges on Project Runway or Next in Fashion. Maria smiled. She couldn't wait to see what Loveday would tease her about today.

“Maria!” A husky voice greeted, “It's been a while—”  

Her eyes flew open as she slammed her laptop shut.

She scrambled out of bed and ran to her bathroom, stumbling over her laptop’s charging cables. Maria washed her face with cold water and soap, doing nothing more than smearing her make-up.

“Oh bugger...” Maria pried open her mirror cabinet, spilling some products as she grabbed her make-up remover. ‘What was Robin doing at the Manor?’ Maria hastily squirted the remover onto the cotton ball, splashing some on her shirt and cursing under her breath. She scrubbed her eyes, ignoring the sting of the remover seeping in.

She rinsed off her face. Grabbing her hand towel, she rubbed her face dry, and ran back to her room, diving right into her bed.

She opened her laptop. 5:01 pm. ‘Crap’. she took longer than she intended. Maria redialed Loveday, hoping he would still be there.

“Maria, what happened?” Loveday answered the phone. Her blond curls were tucked into a fish-tail braid that draped over her shoulder. She was wearing her uncle’s faded brown jumper from his university days.

“Hi Loveday… sorry my internet went down for a bit. You know how it is.”

Loveday nodded with a frown. “Your face looks a bit red, are you running a fever?”

“No, I—”

“Fever?” She heard Ms. Heliotrope shriek from the back. Maria was startled as Loveday’s camera began to shake, before finally settling a bit too close to Ms. Heliotrope’s face.

“Oh, my goodness, Maria you’re red! I must go to you at once!”

“Ms. Heliotrope, I’m fine! I just washed my face.”

Ms. Heliotrope narrowed her eyes, bringing the phone so close to her face that Maria could only see her forehead.

“I don’t believe you. If I take a plane, I can be there by the end of the day.”

“Hang on! Look, I’ll prove it.” Maria climbed out of bed and pulled out the thermometer gun her family had sent in a care package. Sitting back down in front of the camera, she pointed the gun to her head.

Beep. 36 C.

“See, I’m healthy. Besides, it’s much too dangerous for you to travel.”

Ms. Heliotrope looked crestfallen, almost as though she wished she had a reason to be with Maria. “Hmm… Alright my dear. Make sure you check your temperature every day and report to us any symptoms. Please take care and let me know if you need anything! I love you and miss you dearly.”

“I will Ms. Heliotrope, I love and miss you too.” Maria waved goodbye as the phone was passed back to Loveday, but her uncle intercepted it, planting a quick kiss on Loveday’s head as he took the phone from her grasp.

“Maria,” came her uncle’s gruff voice. Even during a pandemic, he was dressed smartly with his hair neatly combed.  “How are you doing? Do you need anything?”

“Hello uncle, I'm alright, thank you though. The care package you sent is not yet half empty.”

“Good, good. Only say the word and I’ll go pick you up myself. We miss you.”

“I miss you too but it’s too risky.”

“It’s worth the risk if it's to have you back with us.”

Maria’s heart ached. “Thank you, uncle, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

Finally, the phone was handed back to Loveday. “I’d ask how you were doing but it seems everyone’s done so already.” Loveday chatted away, telling Maria about how bored they’ve been.  How Marmaduke’s cooking expanded to include various intricate pastries and bread. She recounted with a laugh how only Wrolf and Georgie seemed to love their constant presence.  Though Maria laughed and nodded her head to Loveday’s words, her eyes kept darting to the background trying to see if she could spot him. Loveday grew quiet, she watched Maria with a raised brow and crooked smile, waiting to see how long until Maria noticed.

“Oh, er sorry Loveday, I don’t think I heard you. Were you waiting on my response?”

“Its alright, it seems you’re looking for someone else?”

“No, no…” Maria said sheepishly, “but earlier, Robin answered the phone. He’s back?”

“Yes love. He returned about a month ago but was quarantining at the castle. He’s now running errands and getting groceries for both of our families. I always offer to help, but he insists, and you know how he gets.”  Loveday bit her growing grin. “Do you want to talk to him? He’s playing with Georgie at the moment.”

“Sure, why not,” Maria tried to say nonchalantly. Though she never outright confessed to him, her childhood crush on Robin was no secret. But with four years her senior, Robin always brushed off any comments made about them, saying she was just his best friend. Once he compared her to a little sister. That one stung. Though Maria tried to grow out of it, even having a few boyfriends through her teens, that never stopped Loveday from trying to set them up.

The camera turned black momentarily before turning back on. They were in the parlor now. Robin was on the floor, playing with Georgie and his action figures. Maria’s heart warmed.

His hair was much longer and held up in a messy bun much like hers, though she hated to admit he looked better in it. He wore a black t-shirt with faded black ripped jeans. There were a couple of black and silver chain bracelets on his wrist.

“Oh Robiiin,” Loveday teasingly called. “Seems like someone misses and wants to talk to you.”

“Loveday stop playing!” Maria hissed under her breath, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

Robin jogged over to the phone with a merry grin on his face. Loveday flipped the camera back around, blew a kiss at Maria with a wink, and passed the phone to Robin.

“Hey,” Robin greeted. “Cleaned your face?”

“No!” Maria lied against the growing blush.

“It’s alright princess, not all of us can look as good as I did in smeared eyeliner.”

“Oh please, you mean that emo phase you went through?”

Robin stilled. The corners of his mouth turned up into a faint smile. He shut his eyes as he threw his head back and clutched Georgie’s toy like a microphone. “I got your picture! I'm coming with you! Dear Maria count me in!” Robin sang at the top of his voice.

“Oh god no! Not that song again! You were so annoying! I’ll hang up if you don’t stop right now!” Maria threatened through Robin’s laughter.

“It wasn’t a phase. It was a lifestyle! I’m thinking of bringing it back. Reckon I’ll look better with it now.”

“Ugh, your ego has grown along with your hair.”

“Wouldn’t yours too if you looked this good in a bun?”

“Please, I’ve seen better.”

“Oh yeah, name a few.”

“Chris Hemsworth, Ben Barnes, Jason Mamoa, Orlando Bloom, Timothée Chalamet—”

“Alright, alright, I get it. And please don’t get me started on that Chalemutwat. Such a sap, can’t believe that’s what girls are into nowadays.”

“You're just sore you don't fit the profile anymore. Face it Robin, the rock and leather days are long gone. It's all about k-pop and softbois now.”

“Softboys are just fuckboys with flowers in their hair,” Robin grumbled in disgust.

Maria snorted, thinking about the time he wore a flower crown for a May Day festival. “So, I heard you got back a month ago?”

Robin was walking out of the manor. She could see the setting blue sky and moving landscape in his background. “Yeah… The parks closed down. Figured it was time to come back home. I’m surprised you aren’t here.”

“Aww miss me?”

Robin shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “Want to see the gardens?” Robin flipped the camera, showing her around the manor grounds. As he walked her through, he talked of how covid affected his job. The craziness of people. How some thought escaping to the outdoors was the solution, only to end up trampling on preserved wildlife and littering about.

Maria had settled down, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand, she wore a wistful look across her face with a soft smile. Robin paused. His eyes focused on the screen, and he swallowed.

“Such a shame that happened to the park,” Maria said. “I’d be heartbroken if something like that happened to your forest.”

Robin cleared his throat, “Erm-yeah. Really annoying.” He forced his eyes back to the gardens as he continued on his way.

The camera stopped moving as he sat by a tree and flipped the camera back on him. 

“You got an earring?” Maria asked leaning closer to the screen.

“Yeah, was thinking about it for a while.”

“Ooh! Show it to me.”

He brought the phone close, it was a black stud, with a charm of a red feather.

“I like it.”

“Looks good on me, eh?”

“Bring that ego down a notch and then we’ll see. How’s your father, I’m guessing he had to stop with his falconry lessons?”

“Yes, we shut down the school temporarily. The castle feels lonely.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“Really? I’ll teach you when you get here.”

“Okay! Oh, I took up archery—Well before covid shut it down.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, I can teach you that!”

“Sounds like a deal,” Robin paused, “are you really not coming back soon?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What if lockdown ends?”

 “Don’t bet on it. Words going around it’ll be like this until the vaccine comes out. Give it another six months, maybe a year.”

“A year?”

“Yep.”

“Bloody hell.”

Robin frowned. “When did you start cursing?”

“I’ve learned a thing or two at uni. Even got drunk!” Maria said with a proud grin.

Robin’s face fell. “When was this? Who were you with?”

“Oh, lay off. You’ve gotten drunk plenty of times. Don’t forget about that time you broke your arm after trying to climb my tower.”

“That’s not the problem. You’re tiny. Were you with trusted people? Who took you home?”

“Relax birdboy, I was with friends. We went to a pub. I got tipsy, not black-out drunk. My roommates and I walked ourselves home. I didn’t even have a hangover. And I’m not tiny, I’m average.”

“Just barely,” Robin said with a snort though he seemed to relax back against the tree. “Never, ever, get drunk without someone you truly trust. And remember the pack rule. People are shifty.”

“I know, I know. I still remember your lesson before I left for school. Besides with this pandemic, doubt that’ll be happening anytime soon.” Maria told him about school. The weird things she’s seen on her classmate’s cameras. How everyone seemed to care less and less. She was over it all.  

“You should just come back to Moonacre. Study from here. Even my friends are back, they’ve been helping me fly the falcons.”

“The gangs back too? So not fair. I miss them,” Maria whined. “I want to, but it’s too dangerous. My uncle’s the only one working right now, and the upkeep of that old manor is so expensive. I can’t risk their health. If I could get home safely, I would be there in a heartbeat.”

Robin got pensive. “Alright. Well, hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “I just told you that’s not likely. I already feel bad enough as it is. Don’t rub it in.”  

Robin shrugged his shoulders, “Never say never. I should let you go now, it's late and Loveday’s phone is about to die.”

Maria pouted, surprised to see the clock in the corner of her screen read 8:47 pm. “Wow, we don’t speak for ages and you’re already wanting to hang up. I see how it is.”

Robin shook his head with a chuckle and a sad look across his eyes. “You know that’s not the case,” he said softly.

“I know. I’m only teasing. Good night Robin. I…I miss you.”

“Good night princess. I miss you too.”

The screen turned black. Instead of Robin’s face, she now sat staring at her own glum reflection.

8:49 pm.

She closed her laptop and stared at the photo collage above her desk. Pictures of her adventures with friends and family adorned the board. In the middle was one of her and Robin competing in a race at that May Day Festival. Still wearing the flower crown, Robin was giving her a piggyback ride. She was laughing.  They lost after Maria freaked out when a bee landed on a flower in front of her nose, causing Robin to trip. It was the last thing they did before her leaving to school.

Sitting back up, she opened up her essay and began to type. Wondering when she would see him and her family again.

…A few weeks later…

A resounding knock came from the door. Maria frowned. She hadn’t ordered dinner yet… It was probably some package getting delivered. Shrugging her shoulders, she went back to work, deciding to deal with it later... Until the knocking came again. Then her phone lit up. Maria glanced at the screen, wondering who could be calling: Robin.

[lassieposting]

Any alive! Skulduggery hcs that you haven't shared? I live by your version of him tbh

Hi anon! I think I covered skug's backstory up to when he signs up to fight and then skipped ahead to when he meets his wife, so you can have the Early War Years

- so when we left skug, he'd been on the pirate adventure and essentially moved in with ghastly's family at age 16, and that's where he stays for the next three years. Ghastly's father introduces him to taking pride in his appearance, Ghastly introduces him to Hopeless, and Ghastly's mother Saoirse introduces him to three things: motherly love, household chores, and the back of her hand for swearing in the house. He settles into the family, flirts with the prettiest local girls, develops an allergy to manual labour, and starts Experimenting™ with Ghastly, who's absolutely besotted with him.

- at 19, he has his surge, and it's bad. Ghastly has his a few months earlier, and it wasn't pleasant, but Ghastly was always going to be an elemental. He was sick and achy for a few days and howling in pain for just one or two. Skug expects much the same: he hasn't used necromancy in years, and he's had the best elemental tutors his parents could find.

- But he's inherited an insanely strong necromancy gene from his biological father, and an insanely strong elemental gene from his mother, and his surge ultimately comes down to two branches of magic trying to destroy each other to be the last gene standing. His temperature skyrockets as the elemental gene tries to burn the necromancy out of him. What looks like black blood seeps from his eyes and his nose and the corner of his mouth. His veins go black as the shadows retaliate. It goes on for days. Ghastly's mother is beside herself trying to get water into him so he doesn't die of thirst.

- If he hadn't also inherited the extremely rare genetic abnormality responsible for magical ambidexterity, his surge would've killed him. But he did, so it doesn't, and eventually he comes out of it and spends the next six months or so just recovering.

- at this point, the sanctuary is pushing recruitment. Ghastly doesn't look twice at the posters, but skug does. Ghastly's whole world is his family, their farm, and his father's tailoring business. But skug's father is a diplomat, he's got extended family involved in the war, he was supposed to go to a fancy French university that ended up being burned down during an attack by some pro-Mevolent riots, he's had to field questions from smaller siblings about when - and if - their dad would be coming home. He's highly educated, politically savvy, and emotionally involved. He decides he wants to sign up to fight.

- Saoirse does her best to talk him out of it, but skug is skug, and he digs his heels in and insists this is what he wants to do. He's going to join the war effort.

- Ghastly and Hopeless think it over and decide to join up with him. Hopeless, because he's an idealistic young man looking for glory, and Ghastly because someone has to watch skulduggery's back and keep him out of trouble, or he'll get himself shot long before he gets to set foot on a battlefield.

- honestly, ghastly isn't expecting skug to last long in the army. Skug is a pampered spoiled rich brat, and he's about to be surrounded by people who will scream in his face and make him do drills and expect him to obey orders, and he thinks it will take a few weeks tops before skug wants to desert

- that is. Not what happens

- like. none of them like it very much to begin with. hopeless has never had to do this much exercise in his life, and he hates it. ghastly is lonely and homesick and just wants to go back to dublin. and their first CO decides he hates skug on like, their first day of training, because he's a smart-mouthed arrogant asshole who's never had to be afraid of anything but his own father, and he does not react well to being ridiculed during drills. skug's ego takes a good solid battering because the other enlistees don't appreciate being given extra chores as punishment for him mouthing off, ghastly has to crack some skulls to make sure he won't be bullied for his scars, hopeless doesn't quite fit in and gets some nasty ribbing over it

- but also? they've got untapped talent, all three of them. they end up black ops fighters for a reason. hopeless tops the class for intelligence and undercover operations, because he can become anyone. ghastly is strong and level-headed and does well under pressure. and skulduggery is a natural leader, a ruthless tactician, and has a tendency to pull off insane plans that would go horribly for anyone else.

- they survive basic training. they get sent into the field. and ghastly and hopeless find that they're actually pretty good at this. they earn the respect of the rest of their platoon. and skulduggery? he starts to thrive

- this is the era of wealthy aristocrats buying their way into leadership positions they don't have the experience or common sense to do well in. almost none of the lower-class soldiers have any patience for it, but as a fellow aristo Skug has the social standing to call them out on it, so he still has a habit of making enemies of his commanding officers. he resents being handed orders by men who are less than he is, less clever, less observant, less capable. he goes out of his way to prove that his way of doing things is better.

- and? it works for him, sort of. he gets promoted several times - first he's pulled out of the enlisted ranks to be trained up as an officer, then he makes lieutenant, then captain - partly because he's Challenging to deal with and partly because he's becoming incredibly competent. it's fairly common for skug to get a flogging (for disobeying orders) and a promotion (because it worked out well for him) simultaneously. he has quite a few stripes by the time he meets wifey. when he starts being given command of a squad of his own, he takes ghastly with him as his number two, and hopeless comes along for the ride.

- at some point, skug gets palmed off on then-colonel corrival deuce. it's phrased as "oh here i'll give you some of my best men", but corrival is experienced enough to recognise "god please take this one off my hands im begging you" when he sees it, and sure enough, he butts heads with skug almost as soon as they're introduced.

- by this point skulduggery's men have developed a reputation for being a bit wild, and they're very loyal to him, so corrival has his work cut out. but? he's got a bit of a different approach to a lot of his fellow officers, because he came up through the ranks himself. so instead of locking horns with skug and trying to flog him into compliance, he turns skug into his pet project, his protégé. he gives him a loose rein, defends his decisions to the higher-ups, and doesn't interfere too much with how skug runs his team, but he also doesn't tolerate backtalk, bullshit or cheek. he's the stern-but-fair mentor figure - the Captain Holt/Captain Pellew/Lord Wellington to skug's Peralta/Hornblower/Sharpe. and skug's never had a very involved father figure, because ghastly's father is massively introverted and his own was short-tempered and perpetually disappointed in him, so corrival trips his "kids want boundaries" switch and actually wins him over.

- corrival hangs onto him after that. as he gets promoted and moved around, skug goes with him, and by extension so do his team. corrival learns to use the sensible members of the group - ghastly and hopeless, then erskine - to triangulate skug and stop his temper getting the better of him. he's incredibly proud of his chosen men, and all three of them really come into their own under his guidance. skug turns down promotion a couple times because it would mean a change of CO, and he knows there aren't many people he'd take orders from anymore.

- and then skug meets wifey.

- when skug gets married, neither his mother or father attend. they don't approve of wifey or her pitiful dowry. they assume, as does kenspeckle, that he's marrying her to Do The Decent Thing because he's knocked her up, and his father reassures him that he doesn't have to marry the girl, just send her somewhere far away and send her money to support her brat, and this whole sorry indiscretion can be put behind him. skug is. furious. he was smart enough not to take wifey with him to announce the engagement, and he ends up having a screaming match with his father that ends with him a) walking out and b) getting disinherited. he marries her anyway, and despite mr and mrs pleasant senior snubbing the whole event, he's got a full complement of parents there all the same - ghastly's parents turn up, and so does corrival.

- it's a military thing - skug's in his military dress uniform, they cut the cake with his sword - the parade sword, at least, the one he's never actually used, they walk out of the venue through the sword arch and skug's team do the rifle salute. ghastly's mother drags him to one side, pulls him down by the shirtfront to fuss over his hair and try to make it lay flat, licks her thumb and wipes a smudge off his cheek, embarrasses him in front of all his friends. then corrival snags him while they're waiting for the bride, tells him off for not having perfectly shiny buttons, redoes his collar for him, and tells him, "You'll do" like he isn't about to cry a lil. he offers skug some whiskey from his flask "for courage" and without really thinking skug says he doesn't need it because he's never been so sure about anything in his life and corrival is just. he's fine. he's not choked up at all. stand up straight, boy, for god's sake.

- he also makes a speech ghastly still brings up hundreds of years later, because it's the soppiest the old man ever got with any of them. along the lines of "i never had a son, and if i had, i like to think he would've turned out absolutely nothing like you, because you are single-handedly the reason i am going grey several hundred years ahead of schedule. that being said, i couldn't be prouder of the man you've become; you are at least half as stubborn and annoying now as you were when i met you, and i think i can claim at least some of the credit." and then, to wifey, "as to you, my dear, you have freed me, this monster is yours now. to your health, and my heartiest hopes that your future children turn out like you, because one of him is plenty."

- wifey laughs until her sides hurt and she's wheezing. skug pretends he's offended. ghastly wolf-whistles noisily and gets clipped round the ear by his mama. corrival tears up a little in the middle of his speech and clears his throat to hide it. and when it's all over and they're about to leave, wifey thanks him for coming because she knows it meant a lot to skug, and he promises her he'll do his best to bring skug home safe and sound until this damnable war is over.

(he wishes he'd been able to keep that promise until the day he dies)

[hunflowers]

Femme Fatale

Word Count: 7.3k

Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: I hope you enjoy my rendition of mafia!Harry bc I lowkey do not. Enjoy the smut and maybe leave some feedback when you’re done! *nose boops*

part 2 :)

The rivalry went back decades.

Growing up, they had no choice but to hate each other. It was practically in their blood because that’s how their ancestors were towards one another.

Besides, they tried the whole friendship thing when they were children, and it didn’t even work out then. Simply at first because their families forbade it. But they soon realized how annoying the other was as the years went on. And how badly they wish they could just strangle one another because that would be easier than ever becoming friendly.

It all started with their great-grandfathers, as most old rivalry stories do. They once worked in unison, in harmony as coworkers, cofounders, and friends. Once poor, they rose to the top as a team. But, when money started to become more prevalent, so did the truth of their relationship. They both wanted seniority, to run the business as a King rather than as a team. So, when heads were clashing and neither of them could bring themselves to kill the other, they did the only thing left, and split the business.

And from that point on, peace no longer existed.

Not only did the two men hate each other, but all of their workers started to hate the opposing side. No one thought there could be two leading imports in the city, because the city just wasn’t big enough for both egos. But even though chaos ensued ever since the split, people could say peace was also created. Because everyone was afraid to start a war they couldn’t finish. So, even though there were the casual breakouts and fights, nothing too major ever happened to the point where the city would practically cave in.

Except for now that is. Because Harry and Y/N hated each other that much. Everyone was afraid the other would snap soon and that could only lead to destruction.

Of course, the pair like to think they have it under control, but in reality, one wrong word spoken and the other is as good as dead.

People wondered who the Hell left them in charge because they were some of the most hot headed people to have ever walked this planet. But, in reality they really weren’t left a choice but to run the companies.

Harry’s father was never too into the whole business. Yeah, he got the job done but it wasn’t his first choice career wise. And seeing as he was an only child, he was left no choice but to stay in charge until Harry was ready. And the second he saw that Harry was mature enough for this responsibility, he immediately passed the throne down to him, thankful to have that weight off his shoulders.

As for Y/N, her father wanted her to have nothing to do with the business because it wasn’t a woman’s responsibility. He was thinking of handing the leadership down to his nephew, because he had always looked up to Y/N’s dad and had dreamed of being in charge one day. Of course, she found the whole ordeal ridiculous because the job was meant for her, and no one else.

Y/N was the eldest of her siblings, neither of them being boys. So, when the time would come the company had no choice but to fall in her hands. And even though the time came a lot quicker than she anticipated, she was beyond ready to take on the responsibility. Just a few days past her twenty-first birthday, Y/N’s father had died of a heart attack that was completely unwarranted. He took excellent care of his health, so to say it was a surprise was an understatement. But, even though the company sprung up on her, she prepared most of her life to be in charge and she wasn’t going to let her father down.

Despite Harry’s many attempts to prove her wrong and that she’d be a failure at running things, she would actually prove him wrong time and time again because products exported smoothly and income imported even smoother. And what she makes in a week is generally what he makes every month.

So, she’s doing pretty good she thinks.

But they did try to be friends once. When they were eleven, they shared a few of the same friends so their paths always crossed. So they decided they wouldn't be hostile towards one another because that was the rest of their family, not them. Fast forward to the age of twelve, and Harry and Y/N nearly get in a fist fight due to Harry hurting Y/N’s best friend, and Y/N doing the same to his.

Clearly, history would repeat itself and thus the two joined their families in hating the other.

That led them to where they are now, thirteen years later, and still a lot of hatred in the air.

Albeit, there was the rare occurrence of sexual tension in the air too but they choose not to dwell on that.

It was a one night thing. They were both completely plastered, and they hardly even remember it happening. Of course they tell different stories of that night, and it actually drew them farther apart, but again, they choose to not think about it at all.

It was only a one time thing.

But today. . . today really solidified their ongoing rivalry. Y/N was awoken this morning by the loud shrill of her ringtone blasting in her dark bedroom. She was tempted to not answer it because everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning, but then again, everyone knew not to call her so early in the morning so it must only be an emergency.

And it was the news on the other line that broke her heart and had Y/N flying out of her bed faster than light travelled. Earlier that morning, her youngest sister, Serena, was found in the bathroom of the local club, knocked unconscious whilst her clothes were nearly ripped to shreds. She had been drugged, raped, and stripped of her dignity and Y/N felt responsible. This ache in her chest was prominent because she felt it was her fault for some reason.

After their father’s passing, Serena had gone off the rails for a little while. She took it especially hard because even though all three of his daughters were his babies, Serena being the youngest was his special baby, and she found it very difficult to cope with the loss. So, when Serena did a little too much of experimenting with drugs or drinking, Y/N knew taking care of her baby sister was her main priority.

Hearing the news that her sister had been violated, Y/N couldn’t help but take it to heart. She hardly cared about the outfit she was wearing or what state her hair was in when she arrived at the hospital, all she wanted was to get to her sister.

When she entered her room, she was greeted by her mother and her other sister, Francesca, or Franny for short, already by her bed.

“How is she?” Y/N spoke quickly, taking in the look of her sister sleeping on the hospital bed.

Franny stood up so frantic Y/N could sit down and catch her breath after she practically ran through the hospital halls to find the room.

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctor says she’s in stable condition,” her mother spoke, a shaky breath leaving her lips as she squeezes her daughter's hand.

Y/N bit her bottom lip to stop the urge to burst into tears, keeping her stone cold face in tact. “I swear, I am going to kill whoever did this. I’ll kill them myself, with my own two bare hands.”

“Y/N, please, not now,” Mom hissed. She hated that her daughter had gotten so involved in the business, and she most certainly hated that Y/N got her father’s temper. Her daughter hurting people is the last thing she wants to think about, especially while her other daughter is currently on a hospital bed.

“What, you don’t want whoever did this to pay?”

“Of course I do! By going to prison, not by my daughter’s two hands,” she glared at her eldest.

Y/N huffed, sifting back in her chair and trying to tie back her knotty hair in some sort of bun to get it out of her face before she screams. “Well, my way is a whole lot easier, and I can then guarantee whoever did gets justice served. Who knows what the legal system will do. Give ‘em three months maybe.”

“How about both of you shut your mouths, she’s waking up,” Franny spoke up, gaining the two’s attention immediately. Y/N sat forward, grabbing Serena’s right hand in her own.

The blinding light from the lamp above her head made Serena squint her eyes shut at the vivid brightness, her face distorting into in an uncomfortable grimace before she was able to open her eyes without the light hurting. She looked around at her family, confusion striking her features as she realized where she was.

“Wha– what happened?” She spoke hoarsely, her voice scratchy from probably being excessively dry.

When it was explained what had happened to her, she immediately broke down into tears, which then caused Y/N to let out her own tears. Again, that ping of guilt hitting her right in the heart.

“I know the police are going to ask you questions once they see you’re awake, but do you have any idea who did this to you? Anyone being suspicious towards you last night?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice in a hushed tone to try not to startle her sister in this fragile state.

Maybe it wasn’t the best timing for this but police would be here soon and this was Y/N’s job to find the person who did this, who hurt her family, her blood.

Serena swallowed, closing her eyes to try and remember anything from the night before. She started to shake her head because most of the night was a blur in her head but then she did remember one specific detail that was probably the most important.

Her eyes snapped open as she looked at Y/N, the realization of how important the detail is dawning on her. “He had a uh– tattoo on his arm. It was the. . . Styles emblem.”

Y/N practically shot out of her seat, fuming at just the name of Styles. She hardly left with a goodbye before she was storming out of the building and into her car. Of course it was someone from his side that had the audacity to do something like this. To step onto her side of the city, to do this to her sister.

If you know Y/N, you know her family, so whoever it was knew exactly what they were getting themselves into, and that just made Y/N even angrier. Her hands were practically itching to grab ahold of this guys neck and twist it like a rope.

She zipped her way in and out of traffic, trying to make it to her destination without any fatalities but still getting there as fast as possible. And when she did get there she hardly remembered to put the car in park and to shut it off before she was running inside and to the elevator.

She got a lot of nasty looks from everyone that saw her figure running across the lobby, and she knew why but she didn’t give the time of day to care. Because the boss herself was stepping onto the wrong territory.

When she made it to the right floor, and to the right door, she pounded her fist rapidly on the wood, urging anyone inside to open the fucking door.

And when the door finally did swing open, she was face to face with the one face she was hoping to not see anytime soon but yet at this time she couldn’t avoid him any longer.

“You better have a good reason to be knocking on my door this fucking early in the morning,” Harry spat down at the girl in front of him.

Y/N looked over his shoulder to see two people, a random guy and a girl on the couch in his office, both nearly naked. Then she looked at Harry and saw that his own clothes were disheveled as he probably haphazardly tossed them on his body to open the door.

“Really, in your office?” Y/N droned, pushing past him and into the large space and giving the two a nasty look to state get out.

“I don’t really need your fucking comments so how about you just leave?”

“No, they have to though,” she gestured to the two who were looking around the room quite uncomfortably, not exactly sure what to do with themselves in this moment.

“You don’t boss me around.”

Y/N sighed at his frustrating attitude, trying to keep her cool in front of bystanders, but it was pretty difficult when she was dealing with the most difficult man on the planet. “Harry. . .” she began, looking at him with these pleading eyes that meant something was wrong. Y/N hated looking weak, especially in front of him, but if it got him to cooperate for once, then so be it.

“It’s important business, that they have no part in.”

He looked at Y/N with a hard look, really not wanting to let his fun night come to a close all because she said so. But, he could tell from the way her eyes were the slightest shade of red and how she was still dressed in her pajamas in front of him that whatever this was must have some sort of emergent reasoning.

He looked to Dave and Michelle, the pair who were still so confused about what was happening, a sorrowful look on his face. A look Y/N never thought she would see. They got the idea, quickly scrambling for their clothes before leaving his office. Harry closed the door behind them, licking at his bottom lip before biting it and turning back around to Y/N with that stone cold face she’s grown used to.

“Well, you better get to explaining what the fuck this is all about before I lose my mind.”

Y/N took a shallow breath, running her hand through her very messy hair and speaking up, “Someone on your side hurt my sister, and I need you to find out who.”

“Hurt your sister?” He looked at her with a bored face, going to his big chair behind his desk and plopping down on it, propping his feet onto his desk and leaning back with his arms resting behind his head.

“She was drugged and raped and she says she saw your emblem on him, so, chop chop boss man and find out who the fuck was out last night.”

Shock laced his features at the r word but he soon went back to his bored look, and scoffing at the idea that one of his men would do something so vile. Serena was known to exaggerate and to lie about things ever since she first got her hands on drugs and Harry had no choice but to disbelieve the claims.

“I highly doubt it was one of my guys. Your sister has a tendency to. . . lie. Plus, if she was drugged there’s a low chance she’ll remember something as specific as my emblem but, I assume, nothing else,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows at Y/N as if to say I win*.

Steam could practically be seen escaping Y/N’s ears as her face set into an angry frown and becoming increasingly red by the moment. Why did she think he would be considerate once? It was her mistake to think he had any ounce of a heart in his body, but even though she knew he would be difficult to work with, she was still beyond pissed at his response.

She stomped forward to the front of the desk, standing opposite him as she leaned forward and grabbed his white button-down shirt in her fist and yanking him forward so his body was in an awkward position and so his face was inches from her own. His smirk settled deeper on his face as his eyes trailed up and down her own face and her figure that was leaning over the desk. Because she never gave herself the time to change out of her pajamas, her silk camisole top revealed a lot of what was underneath to Harry; especially the lack of a bra.

Y/N could practically see the hormones flowing around in his head as he looked like he couldn’t give two shits about the way she was practically ripping his shirt off his body. She brought her other hand up and hooked it under his jaw, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to only look at her eyes.

“I figured I would ask nicely before I kill the prick myself. But there is no playing nice with you, is there Styles?” Y/N seethed, gritting out her words, pushing his body back harshly into his chair.

He laughed, genuinely laughed at the prospect of her being. . . nice. He ran his fingers through his hair, getting up from his position in his chair and walking around to meet her at the front of her desk. His slim fingers took the strap of her camisole, gently rolling it in his fingers before bringing it up and snapping it back down on her skin. “Not when you’re dressed like this, love.” Y/N pushed his hand off her body, standing up straighter in her spot and giving him the nastiest glare she could muster.

“Fine, but don’t be alarmed when you get the news someone died,” she stated, walking back over to the direction of his office door.

“You won’t be killing anyone, Y/N. And if you do, you leave me no choice but to kill one of yours,” he called out as she began to walk down the hall.

She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him, to see that he was leaning against the doorway of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest. Y/N laughed at his proposition, looking down at her feet, stepping back in his direction with the tiniest foot forward.

“I think whoever raping my sister and then me killing them justifies this whole, eye for an eye thing, don’t ya think?” She hummed, giving him her final deadpan glare before, again, walking away from him and beginning her business for the day.

❊ ❊

A few days went by.

Y/N was closer to finding the guy, but it seems finding someone with a specific emblem tattooed on them proves to be quite difficult when a lot of guys have that same emblem tattooed on them in the exact same spot.

Cameras in the club did little to nothing to help her in the case, seeing as the place is dark, and that it’s sort of illegal to have surveillance in the bathroom. But her team was working hard and the more she didn’t have the guy in her hands, the more angry she became, and the more determined she was to freaking find him.

“All I’m saying is if you drop to your knees, he’ll be more willing to help you,” Y/N’s best friend Flo shrugged, taking a sip from her water as she leaned back in the chair.

“And I don’t need his help, he’s proven to be useless countless times.”

“Then why ask in the first place? Remind me again, because I’m a little lost.”

Y/N turned her head away from her laptop screen, looking at Flo with a bored look, sighing as she closed her laptop to give her friend her undivided attention. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“Yeah, like how I think this whole ‘Oh, I hate Harry,’ thing is bullshit. Why go to him if you know he won’t help?” Flo questioned, leaning forward with her arms resting on the mahogany desk.

“Maybe he grew some human decency since the last time I saw him?”

Flo squinted her eyes at her best friend, not exactly accepting that as an answer. It was for one pretty vague, and Flo knew her friend a bit better than that. There was something she wasn’t telling her, and she’d be damned if she left this room not knowing.

“Hm,” Flo hummed, sitting back against the leather chair, then taking another dramatic sip of her water. Y/N gave her a look of distaste as if to ask, is there a problem?

“And, when was the last time you saw him?”

Two weeks ago.

For that. . . thing they don’t talk about.

From what Flo knows, last time Y/N saw Harry was to discuss business settlements six months prior. So, if there’s no business that needs to be handled, there would be no reason for Y/N to see Harry, right? That’s a secret Y/N so desperately wants to keep. She’s ashamed of the night. Beyond words she’s ashamed and it’s only because she gave into temptation.

For a long time, she had Flo telling her that she should let go of this family feud because how could Y/N miss out on an opportunity to be with someone as handsome as Harry? As powerful as Harry? If they were together, there would be absolutely nothing stopping them, because not only were they good at what they do, but so many people respected them that the city would have no choice but to accept that they’re a couple.

But, that went against decades upon decades of family rivalry. The two would be damned if they were the reason this, basically family tradition, came to an end.

So, Y/N had no choice but to lie to her best friend, to avoid life as she knows it spiralling out of control.

She pondered in fake wonder for a moment before answering, “I think a little over six months ago.”

Flo nodded her head in understandment, taking in Y/N’s words but not exactly believing them. There’s a reason Y/N and Flo are best friends, and it’s because the two are very much alike. They’re sarcastic, they’re funny, they’re smart, they take their job seriously, and so many more reasons beyond that. But one defining reason is that they both understand the other so well. They can see right through each other. So for Y/N to think Flo doesn’t know she’s lying, is quite offensive to Flo.

Y/N tried to not break eye contact when she was talking, but she did, and that was the main giveaway that she was lying, even if she only looked away for a brief second. Flo had her down pat, much to Y/N’s demise.

And Flo wasn’t going to sit here and not call her out on it.

“Okay, and now I want the truth.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, and she pursed her lips whilst shaking her head, “I don’t know what-”

“The. Truth. Y/N.”

“That was-”

“Now.”

Y/N huffed, looking down to her hands that she now placed in her lap. Under her friend’s hard gaze, Y/N’s face began to heat up with the embarrassment running through her veins. There really shouldn’t be any reason to be embarrassed about this, but she is. She hates that it happened, but more importantly she hates how she caved to him.

Glancing back up for a moment, Y/N bit her lip softly, feeling exceptionally small as her friend continued to wait for an answer. Taking a deep breath, Y/N sat up straighter in her chair, finally speaking the truth, “Two weeks ago.”

And now it was Flo’s turn to raise her eyebrows, jaw dropping practically down to the floor.

Then Y/N got to explaining.

❊ ❊

It was a Thursday night. Not even the weekend. Y/N had found herself in Central City, which is basically what everyone within the two groups calls the place on the border that separates the sides. She was just outside of Central City, dealing with a few of her loyal dealers all day, and in Central City is one of her favorite bars, so after a long day of working, she wanted to treat herself to a few casual drinks. Plus, she has a small crush on one of the bartenders there, so she figured that night she just may get lucky.

Little did she know, Harry had been just outside of Central City all day too, dealing with a group of rogues who thought they could steal from him and get away with it. They didn’t. So, after an exhausting day of interrogation and torture, Harry needed a drink. And what better place than his favorite bar in Central City?

She was there first, chatting up with Ben the bartender. She was laughing, drinking, listening to the horrible singer up at karaoke; just having an amazing time. Everyone knew who she was but they were all too drunk to worry about anything so they went on about their nights as if the Queen of half their city wasn’t in their presence.

But then everyone went silent, and the only thing that could be heard was Y/N’s laugh as Ben says something ridiculously funny. When she noticed everyone had gone quiet, she looked around the room to look for why no one was talking. It was quite eerie that one second everyone was having the time of their life to now everyone looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Then her eyes met his, and she nearly dropped the glass in her hand.

But she wasn’t going to leave just because he showed up. It was her favorite bar. And he felt exactly the same way because it was his favorite bar.

About fifteen seconds of awkward silence and intense staring went down before the two got fed up with all of the eyes focused on them.

“What’re you all looking at?” They snapped in unison. Quickly everyone went back to what they were doing, trying not to worry about a fight breaking out or a screaming match going down. And their worry soon started to dissolve as all the women began to fantasize about Harry and all the men wish they were worthy of being with Y/N.

Unfortunately for the two, the only seat left available in the place was the one on the right of Y/N at the bar. And when Harry sauntered over, going to sit down on the stool, Y/N was quick to stop him claiming she was saving the seat. He looked at her blankly, knowing fully well no one was going to sit there. He swatted her hand away, sitting down on the wood with a plush seat, quickly ordering himself a drink.

They tried not to converse throughout the night no matter how badly they wanted to snap at one another. But the more they thought about yelling, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more willing they were to talk to each other.

That’s how their night progressed. By the end of it, they somehow came across the topic of sex. And how neither of them had gotten any in what felt like forever. In reality it actually hadn’t been long at all for either of them, but they tended to be dramatic, plus they were teetering on the tipsy-drunk mindset.

“Worst part is, he left his socks on! Fucking socks! It’s one thing to last thirty seconds, but to leave your socks on? Nearly killed the guy,” Y/N grimaced, recalling the event from last week.

Harry was having a hard time keeping in his laughs and judgements, but Y/N was okay with it because that was the whole point of telling the story in the first place. “Okay, you win this time, that is worse.”

“This time? I always win, Styles.” Y/N was practically gloating as she finished off the rest of her martini. He rolled his eyes at her words, shaking his head in response.

And no one could really predict the future events unfolding. It was quite out of the ordinary, and Y/N hardly knew what she was doing until after she had done it.

This thought dawned her hazy mind, and then she was placing her hand on his shoulder and looking at him with this lust and admiration she never thought she had inside of her. The moment he felt her hand on his shoulder, he looked at her quickly and nearly crumbled at the way she was looking at him.

If no one were in this bar with them, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her right then and there, but alas people were all around them. So, he had to keep it in his pants for just a little longer.

He leaned closer to her, taking in the scent of her heavenly perfume as she breathed in his ravishing cologne. They were so close, their lips barely grazed over each other’s, the tips of their noses brushing together softly as if it never really happened.

“What’s on your mind?” He wondered, his right hand coming down on her thigh, awfully close to her now aching center.

They were positive people were most likely watching them like hawks and that news of this just might spread around very fast by tomorrow morning. But, they just didn’t care. Y/N placed her hand on top of his, slowly dragging it even further up her thigh, so his fingertips just reached her dampening underwear.

His lips parted at the feeling, his eyes widening in awe as he stretched his fingers to again barely touch her where she really wanted him. She almost moaned at the feeling but kept the noises inside, not wanting to bring anymore attention towards them.

He laced her hand that was on his shoulder in his hair, softly tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck. She brought her wet lips up to his ear, whispering, “To see what it’s like for you. . . to win.”

He looked at her with an open-mouthed smirk, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he hastily stood up and placed a few bills down on the bar to pay for their drinks. Y/N grabbed her purse, making her way to the door, Harry following behind her.

When they finally arrived to his place, stepping in the threshold of the foyer, all barriers fell down and all morals left their minds. Their lips were locked in a feverish kiss as he had her pinned up against the cool wooden surface of his door. Her legs were hiked up to wrap around his hips, high heels abandoned on the floor as she pressed the heels of her foot onto his ass, pushing his front harder on her core, creating some sort of friction between them.

He broke apart their lips, tangling his fingers in her hair as he tugged her head to one side to open up the view of her neck that he wanted so desperately to mark up. The second he bit down on her skin and licked the area, and peppered kisses up and down her throat, Y/N let out a moan she couldn’t suppress anymore. And then Harry smirked against her skin.

“It’s so ironic,” he started, grinding his hips harder into her as he brought his head up to look her in the eyes. “Out there, you’ve got people at your feet, looking up to you like an actual queen, not afraid to kill me at any given moment. But in here. . . I’ve got you writhing beneath my touch, just itching to be touched down here.”

And then he cupped her cunt, fingers petting her damp thong, having her mewl at the small but impactful contact. She wished he would just shut up and just fuck her already, but she could tell he was having fun with this; her being so complacent and not fighting him and instead agreeing that she was in fact desperate for him to touch her.

He pushed her skirt up her hips, getting better access to her pretty pussy, pushing aside her thong, gathering up her slickness onto his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his face, admiring the shine before wrapping his lips around them. If Y/N was standing, her knees surely would’ve gave out from under her at the sight. And she couldn’t help but get ever wetter as he sucked the digits, pulling them out with a pop.

“Sweet. . . like honey,” he grinned before reattaching their lips quickly. He brought his hands down onto her ass, gripping tightly before removing them from the door. Although they didn’t get very far and ended up on the comfy living room couch. There was no way they could handle stairs in their state, so the couch was good enough.

Really classy.

As soon as her back touched the soft surface, Harry was ripping her skirt and panty down her legs, and harshly tugged open her shirt that a few bottoms came right out of the seams. And if Y/N wasn’t drunk on alcohol and lust, she’d be beyond pissed.

But she really wasn’t one to talk, because she also ripped open his shirt, albeit not as rough but she’s pretty sure she ripped off one of his buttons too. Within a matter of seconds, the two were completely naked and beyond excited for what was to come. Literally.

Harry littered kisses up and down her body, mouth lingering longer on her aroused nipples, whilst he sank one then two fingers into her dripping hole. Y/N let out a breathy moan, lifting her lips up off the couch to push his fingers deeper inside of her.

“You’re so tight, Darling, and it’s just my fingers.”

He locked their lips in another passionate kiss as he pumped his fingers faster into her heat, gaining a few more moans out of that precious little mouth of hers. He hovered his lips over hers, speaking his next works huskily and softly that sent shivers down her spine, and made her pussy throb.

“Imagine me burying my cock into you. You squeezing me as I thrust into you, over and over again. Your warm walls holding onto me as I pound into you, absolutely wrecking you. Can you imagine it?”

Before she could say a single word, his thumb began working fast circles on her clit just as he continuously started to hit that special spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. The string of moans she let out could really put a pornstar to shame, and he didn’t even have his dick in her yet.

Was it embarrassing for her to be this much of a mess just from a simple fingering? Yes. But, just like the rest of the night, she lost the will to care.

“H-. . . Harry, please,” she whined as he switched the pace of his fingers to a slower rate, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as he could.

He simply shook his head, denying her any satisfaction. Because as much as she was in charge out there, he was in charge here and he wouldn’t let her get what she wants so quickly.

Instead, he wanted to rile her up even more. With his free hand he brought it up to her breast, groping it roughly and then pinching her nipple between his thumb and first finger. And then he got an idea as he looked at the hickey that was starting to form on the side of her neck. He slowly trailed his fingers further up her chest, her collarbones, and eventually landing on the soft skin of her throat. He gently wrapped his hand around her throat to see what kind of reaction he could get out of her, and much to his surprise, her small hand wrapped around his wrist to, instead of pushing his hand away, push harder on her throat.

And if he wasn’t turned on then, he for fucking sure is now.

She loved the way his big hand was wrapped around her throat easily as if it had the smallest circumference. She loved the way it made it just the tiniest bit more difficult to breathe while he continued to ram her pussy with his fingers. And he loved just how much she loved it. “You naughty fucking girl. You like my hand around your neck don’t you? Does it turn you on?”

Y/N didn’t want to say anything, because as much as she was this confident woman, this moment was far too embarrassing, even for her. But, frustrated with no response, Harry pressed down more, using a deeper voice to elicit a response out of her.

“Answer me, Princess. I won’t continue if you don’t use your words,” he tsked, again slowing down his rhythm. Y/N groaned as his fingers practically came to a halt, bucking her hips up to continue the euphoric feeling inside of her.

“Plea–”

“Not until I get an answer.”

Y/N huffed, opening her eyes to look into his boring down on her. She bit her lip softly before nodding her head gently to respond to his previous questions.

“Uh-uh, I want words, Y/N. You love to talk, so c’mon, tell me.”

Groaning again, Y/N turned her head to the side to break eye contact. All she wanted was an orgasm, and she knew that within the next minute she was bound to burst and she hated that he was stopping her from reaching it. She took a breath and mustered up the courage to finally agree with his words, that yes it turned her on immensely.

“Y-yes. . . it turns me on,” she whispered. With that he smirked and removed his hand from her heat, making Y/N whimper at the loss of contact. But he couldn’t take it anymore, his erection becoming too unbearable that he had to ease his pain sooner rather than later.

Reaching down to his wallet to pull the condom out that he had stuffed in there a few nights ago, because he couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs to get his stash, he hastily ripped open the foil, careful not to rip the condom itself, and quickly rolled it onto his throbbing length.

He first pushed the tip in, giving her a few moments to adjust to his girth. Y/N completely lost it as he pushed further and further inside of her, back arching off the plush cushion as she cursed at the feeling of him stretching her. She widened the space of her legs, absolutely losing her mind as Harry’s face buried into her neck, the vibrations of his moans and groans shaking her body.

When he finally stopped, Y/N was quick to look down to see his cock was gone and deep inside of her body. She never felt so full in her life and she didn’t know how she was going to take him moving. The stretch came with a subtle burn that brought tears to her eyes. All good, of course.

“Harry, please move,” she begged, scraping her nails down toned back.

“Are you sure?”

“Fucking move.”

Then he slowly inched his length out before snapping his hips back against hers.

It was crazy that they were doing this.

Never in a million years did they think they would be having sex, each other’s names flowing out of their mouths so easily as their moans filled the air. The thought was always taboo for them but just this once they accepted their fates, and God, did it feel good.

It felt so good.

❊ ❊

When Y/N was finished explaining what had happened that one night two weeks ago – of course without the intense details – Flo sat with a smirk adorning her features.

Her eyes glowed, knowing she was right. She just knew this sort of thing was bound to happen. Next step, they were going to admit their undying love for each other and Flo couldn’t wait to get that news.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Y/N scolded.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” she shrugged. “. . So when’s the wedding?”

“Florence James!”

“Hey, I’m just dealing with the cards I’ve been dealt,” she raised her hands in defense.

“Can we just forget about him and get back to more important matters, like who assaulted my sister?”

Before Flo could respond, a knock sounded on the door to Y/N’s office. Yelling a quick come in, Y/N was quick to flip off her friend before whoever walked into the room.

Looking over her shoulder, Flo let out a laugh before getting up from her chair and then returning the hand gesture to Y/N. “Speak of the Devil,” she called as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Harry stepped into Y/N’s office, that annoying smirk ever so permanent on his features.

“Speaking about me, Princess?”

“You have two seconds to explain why you’re here before I stab you in the throat.”

“Relax,” he dragged out, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of the chair Flo was just sitting on before sitting himself down on it. “I come with good news.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, interested in what he could be talking about. She didn’t bother asking what good news, instead just waited for him to continue with whatever it was he had to say.

“You don’t have to worry about Jack anymore – Uh, the guy who. . . y’know, with Serena.”

To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. She was so shocked that she had him repeat himself and explain what the fuck that was supposed to even mean.

“Look, I know I was harsh the other day. But when you left I got to thinking and. . . I know I would do anything I could if somebody hurt someone in my family. So, I got to asking around, turns out it was this guy Jack I had just fired and now you don’t have to worry about him,” he elaborated, clasping his hands together on his lap.

Y/N’s mind was in a whirlwind at this information, trying to process everything he just told her. It wasn’t a lot to take in but, it’s because he willingly helped her that had her in such a confused state. He had never done anything like this before and she was sure he wouldn’t do anything like it ever again.

But then she smiled. Genuinely smiled. Because he helped her. There’s no way she was going to let this one go. However, before she could gloat, she asked one very important question, “Is he alive?”

Harry gave her a knowing look, as if to say she should know him better than that.

Then she smiled again, even bigger than before. Because he killed someone for her and that – in their world – was the biggest sign of affection someone could give, because it meant that that someone meant something special.

“Fuck off with that smile,” he grumbled.

Y/N then stood up from her chair and walked over to him, standing in front of his seated figure, bringing her hand up to caress his jaw. “However could I repay you, Mr. Styles?”

It was then his turn to smile at her as he placed his hands on the back of her thighs and brought her to sit down on his lap.

“I can think of a few ways.”

And they were kissing like they never had before. This time they were so sober, it felt too real.

But they didn’t mind too much, because this moment felt like the start of something new.

[hopesilverheart]

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss​ Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 1: A change to set you free

Magnus woke up with a start, bleary-eyed and confused.

A cup of coffee lay forgotten in front of him, papers scattered all over his desk, his computer still open and ready to be used. He couldn’t remember what he had been doing earlier, except that it had something to do with the ridiculous article Lorenzo had been pushing him to publish all month.

It took him a second longer to realise he was in his work office and not at home. He groaned tiredly, knowing there was no way he could fall asleep here. He would never hear the end of it if one of his colleagues found out. Nightmares, the lot of them. Not for the first time, Magnus wished he didn’t desperately need this job.

This job he hated with a passion.

He loved being an editor, he really did. He loved writing and going over articles and occasionally working on a piece when his superiors needed his expertise. He loved working alongside bright people who lived to share information with the world. He loved the fast-paced world of media and the friends he had made thanks to it. He didn’t love the company he worked for.

He had loved it, once upon a time, when he had been younger and in love with all the wrong people. He had enjoyed waking up early and walking into the Fade Media building, hand in hand with his then-girlfriend. He had been on his way to getting promoted, and had been the best contender for the Head Editor position. He had the credentials, the experience, the seniority.

Breaking up with Camille had ruined it all for him. His ex-girlfriend had shares in the company and was close friends with the CEO, Malcolm Fade. It was all too easy for her to pressure the man into promoting someone else in Magnus’ place. That had been five years ago.

Five years of working under Lorenzo Rey, an arrogant man who believed he was the best employee the company had ever seen. He wasn’t a terrible editor, loathe as Magnus was to admit it, but he was far from a people-person. Magnus couldn’t count how many times he’d had to interview people himself, trying to salvage the wreck Lorenzo’s bluntness left in its wake.

He loved working, but he hated the people he worked for. He hated crossing paths with Camille and Malcolm, smirks firmly in place every time they saw him. He hated knowing he would never get the job he wanted and hated not having the strength to leave.

Because as much as Magnus hated this place, he also knew it was his best shot. Fade Media was the second largest media company in the city, and Magnus knew there was no way he would ever be hired by the first. He had preferred settling for second-best instead of risking his entire career. He felt pathetic every time he walked into his subpar office, but at least he was getting paid and had some sort of influence on his co-workers.

Still, on days like these, when Magnus was exhausted and working on something for Lorenzo, he wished he were just a bit more brave.

He packed up his belongings as fast as possible, checking his phone and groaning as he caught a glimpse of the time – past ten, already – as well as five missed calls from Catarina. He had promised his friend he would have dinner with her and Madzie, but he had been tired and stressed and it had completely slipped his mind.

Feeling bad for bailing on his best friend yet again – it was the third time in a month, and he knew even Catarina’s patience had its limits – he called her back as he walked out of the building, promising himself he’d clean his office after a good night’s sleep.

“Magnus Bane.” He grimaced at his best friend’s cool tone. Before he could apologise for his absence, Catarina was speaking again. “Don’t even try to apologise or make excuses. Madzie was devastated when she realised you were skipping dinner again. Now I have a seven-year-old girl clinging to me in her sleep because she thinks her godfather has forgotten about her. I expect you to make up for this, Magnus, gifts and dinners and everything included.”

Magnus gulped, feeling even worse now than he had a few minutes earlier. He loved Madzie more than anyone in the world, and he hated knowing he had hurt her, no matter how unintentionally. His goddaughter had been abandoned once in her life, and she didn’t need to go through that a second time.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry,” he sighed, shivering as the December air wormed its way underneath his clothes. He should have brought a coat, but he hadn’t thought he’d be out so late. “I fell asleep at work again, not that it excuses anything. I’ll make time for Madzie this week-end, I promise. I’m almost done with this piece and Lorenzo should be leaving me alone for a while after it.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re telling the truth,” his best friend said sternly, though Magnus could hear the worry lingering in her throat. “But Magnus…”

“I’m fine,” he muttered before she could get any further than that. “I know you hate hearing about my terrible sleep schedule, but I’m more than okay. This piece is just harder than I anticipated. Lorenzo’s got expectations bigger than his ego, and that’s saying something. “

“I can’t wait for the day when you finally knock that lizard off his pedestal,” Catarina huffed. Even as tired as he was, Magnus took a second to laugh delightedly at his best friend’s nickname for his boss. If anyone hated Lorenzo more than Magnus did, it was Catarina. She had been looking forward to his promotion almost as much as he had and had despised his replacement from the get-go. “You know, you could still leave. You don’t have to work for that horrible man if you don’t want to. I’m sure Fade will be begging you to come back as soon as he realises you’re the only thing keeping his company together.”

Magnus smiled at the compliment even though he knew it was far from true. Did he believe he was a better reporter and editor than Lorenzo? Yes. Did he think Lorenzo couldn’t live without him? No. There were dozens of incredible journalists out there, and he knew all of his colleagues were waiting for him to crack under the pressure and resign. He refused to give them that satisfaction.

“I’ll be fine, Cat,” he answered, turning onto his street and sighing contentedly. A few more minutes and he would be in bed, getting the sleep he deserved and desperately needed. “I’m almost home, so I’ll call you later, alright? Are you guys free on Saturday?”

“You know we are,” Catarina said. Magnus could picture her rolling her eyes as she spoke and an amused smile twitched at his lips. “We’ll figure out the details during our call tomorrow. Don’t you dare forget about me again.”

“I won’t,” Magnus promised. “Good night, Cat. I love you, and please tell Madzie I love her too. I won’t disappoint her again.”

“I know you won’t,” Catarina murmured. “I love you too, Magnus, now go get some sleep.”

With that, she hung up, leaving Magnus alone in front of his apartment. He walked inside, sighing at the ‘out of service’ sign still plastered onto the elevator, and resigned himself to having to walk up eight flights of stairs. He loved his penthouse, but the elevator had stopped working over a week ago and his legs were starting to protest the constant trips up and down the building.

By the time he made it to his loft, his whole body was aching and his mind was begging him to get into bed. He threw his bag somewhere near the door, and kicked his shoes off, hoping he’d be able to find them the next day.

He thought about taking a shower, since they usually made him feel better, but the mere idea of having to move more than strictly necessary had his limbs protesting angrily. Instead, he took a few minutes to remove his make-up and splash some water on his face in the hopes that it would keep him awake long enough to go through his nightly routine.

He looked at himself in the mirror briefly, wincing at how grey his skin appeared. He hadn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep in over a month and it showed. He really needed to get his act together if he didn’t want his clients and colleagues to start noticing how run down he truly was.

Pulling himself away from his horrifying reflection, he walked back into his bedroom, jumped onto his bed and stretched out lazily. He didn’t get enough time surrounded by his silk sheets anymore, but he always relished in the few moments he did get.

He grabbed his phone, determined to scroll through the news and stay on top of things before falling asleep. As an employee of one of the main media companies in the country, he always made sure to be as aware of what was going on in the world as possible. It was extra work he didn’t get paid for, but it was worth it when his exclusive writings turned out better than anyone else’s.

The news was particularly dull this week; nothing exceptional was happening in the country, and the bigger celebrities had been strangely quiet all month. It meant less things for the magazine and website to cover, and more time for Lorenzo to come up with outrageous jobs for his subordinates.

He opened twitter last and immediately noticed the increase in activity. His followers were screaming about something, and Magnus sleepily tried to find the source behind their excitement.

The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was a headline that would undoubtedly make him freak out once he woke up the next morning.

Lightwood Fashions: Open Calls for Spring Collection Models

***

“Raphael Santiago! How dare you forget to mention your bosses were opening auditions for models?”

Magnus only had a few minutes until he had to get to work, but he’d be damned if he didn’t take that time to condemn his friend’s lack of forewarning.

Lightwood Fashions was one of the biggest fashion brands in the world, mostly thanks to the incredible work of Clary Fray and her secret partner. The two designers had single-handedly pushed the Lightwood name back to the top of the industry thanks to their superb designs. Magnus himself owned his fair share of Lightwood pieces, specifically from Fray’s collections.

A few years ago, Robert Lightwood had almost caused the downfall of his half of the family company. His divorce with Maryse Lightwood and the accusations of discrimination against his employees had completely ruined his company’s name. Lightwood Media had stood strong, but Lightwood Fashions had been seconds away from being shut down.

Thankfully, their eldest son had taken control of the company and turned it around. Hiring Fray had been a wonderful business decision, and although Magnus had his doubts about the Lightwood heir and his ability to run a fashion company, he had to admit everything had been going well so far.

So well, in fact, that they were apparently looking to temporarily increase the number of models for their Spring collection photoshoots and shows. Magnus had been dreaming of an opportunity like this one for years, and he had hoped his friend would tell him if one came up.

After all, Raphael was Lightwood Fashions’ best photographer, and Magnus had it on good authority that he was close to a few of the higher-ups. He had probably been aware this was going to happen for months, and yet hadn’t breathed a word of it to Magnus.

“There is such a thing as professional secrecy, Magnus,” Raphael answered dryly. “Alec mentioned the open calls a while back but I wasn’t sure it would actually happen. Even if I had been sure, I wouldn’t have told you. Besides, you’re aware of it now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but now I only have a week to decide whether or not I want to put myself out there,” Magnus pouted, walking into Fade Media and plastering a fake smile on his face as he spotted Lorenzo Rey in the lobby. “I have to go, but we’ll be talking about this as soon as I have a minute to spare.”

He hung up before Raphael could answer, widening his grin and standing next to Lorenzo in front of the elevator. He could only hope the damned machine wouldn’t take ten minutes to arrive, because he wasn’t sure he could handle that much time alone with his ‘boss’.

“Magnus,” the man grinned, looking as smug as ever. He had never said it out loud, but Magnus knew Lorenzo adored being above him in the chain of command. “How are you doing today? Finally done with that project I assigned you last week?”

“Not quite,” Magnus grit out. Lorenzo knew it would take most people a month to complete what he had asked for, but Magnus was working day and night to make sure he got it done within the week. “It should be on your desk tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”

The Head Editor tried to hide his shock, but Magnus had spent his life learning how to read people, and he noticed the surprised twitch of Lorenzo’s fingers as he reached for the elevator button. He smirked inwardly, though his face remained an impassive mask. Oh, how he loved getting on this man’s nerves.

“That was fast,” Lorenzo finally answered. “I hope the quality of your work won’t be impacted by your insistence on rushing it.”

Magnus bristled internally but refused to say anything or show how much the jibe affected him. Lorenzo wanted him to lose his cool, and Magnus lived to make sure the man never got anything he wanted. He smiled instead, stepping into the elevator and glancing down at his phone in an obviously dismissive move.

Lorenzo twitched again, and this time Magnus let his smirk show on his face. If the man thought he would ever win one of their verbal spars, he was dreaming. Magnus was a master of words and human interactions, and he wasn’t about to let someone like Lorenzo Rey beat him at his own game.

Satisfied he had bested him once again, Magnus focused on his phone, sending a flurry of messages to Catarina about the damned lizard. Once that was done, he sent off two more angry texts to Raphael, asking for more details about the auditions. Finally, he let himself open his web browser and stare at the Lightwood announcement for the hundredth time that morning.

Apparently, their spring collection was shaping up to be the biggest and best one Fray and her partner had ever created, and they wanted to make sure they had the perfect models to get them through the season. Everyone could audition but only ten models would be chosen at the end of the process.

Some of the spots were already pretty much guaranteed, or at least Lightwood Media seemed to imply they were, since Fray had a few models she always worked with. However, there was still a chance Magnus could be chosen for the project, and his heart fluttered at the thought.

Before he had joined Fade Media as an editor, back when he had still been a college student struggling to find his place in the world, he had applied for a job at Lightwood Fashions. Everyone had always told him he would make a fantastic model, and he had wanted to see if there was any truth to their words.

What he hadn’t known at the time was that Robert Lightwood was both homophobic and racist; his application had been doomed from the start. He had taken the blow harder than anticipated and had shoved the idea of ever modelling to the back of his mind. But now… Now he knew the reason he hadn’t been accepted was most likely because of the colour of his skin and the people he was attracted to rather  than his ability to do the job.

Alec Lightwood, on the other hand, was notorious for hiring people no matter their gender, skin colour, sexuality… The only thing that mattered to him was skill, and Magnus appreciated that – if nothing else – about him.

However, knowing he had a shot didn’t mean he would succeed. He knew Raphael would probably put in a good word for him, and knew he wasn’t bad at modelling, but the odds were still so low… He sighed and put his phone away, not wanting to make a decision before he had had the chance to speak to anyone about it.

“Something bothering you, Magnus?” Lorenzo asked. Magnus groaned internally but smiled and shook his head at his boss.

“Nothing at all,” he said. “I was just going over the news and thinking about Lightwood Fashions’ latest stunt. I’m wondering if this’ll mean an increase in their media department’s coverage or if they’ll be contacting fashion-oriented magazines instead. And if they stick to their own company, does this mean we’ll have a better chance at focusing on non-fashion related events?”

He was making most of it up on the spot, but Lorenzo didn’t need to know that. He’d rather have the man believe he was strategizing than realise Magnus was thinking about working for their biggest competitor. Thankfully, his boss bought it, gritting his teeth as though he was mad that he hadn’t thought about the impact the Lightwood collection might have on their media company.

Honestly, Magnus couldn’t care less about any of that, but it made Lorenzo seethe, so he’d count it as a win. The man hated that even after her ex-husband’s scandal, Maryse Lightwood had managed to keep her company at the top of the media game.

“An interesting point,” his boss finally answered, smiling unconvincingly. “Something I’ll have to think about. Anything else you might want to mention before we start the day?”

“Not that I can think of,” Magnus shrugged, walking out of the elevator with one last smirk. “Although if you need help or advice, you know I’m always free for you, Lorenzo.”

He swayed his hips as he walked towards his office. The Fade Media executives may have given Lorenzo the Head Editor position, but everyone knew the best person to go to when they needed help was Magnus. He didn’t know whether it made him feel proud of what he had achieved or annoyed at his co-workers’ refusal to put in a good word for him with the higher-ups.

Either way, it meant a higher workload for him and less time to focus on Lorenzo’s demands, let alone his own personal projects. Usually, his colleagues came to see him in the morning, once they realised the work they had done the day before didn’t meet their boss’ expectations. So when he walked into his office only to find Lily, one of the newer recruits, waiting for him with an apologetic smile, he wasn’t even surprised.

“A problem with your latest interview?” he sighed, thinking back to the projects she had been assigned.

“Yes,” she huffed. “And of course, Mr. Rey doesn’t have the time to hear me out and figure out what’s wrong with it, so…”

“I understand,” Magnus smiled, throwing his work bag on the floor, and taking out his laptop. As soon as he had stepped into his office, he had shoved all thoughts of Lightwood Fashions, modelling and a better job to the back of his mind, switching to his professional persona seamlessly.

Time to remind everyone of just why he was the best goddamn employee in this entire building.

***

It was almost nine at night when he finally found the time to call Catarina back. He cursed his bad luck and the extremely long day he had had, hoping his best friend would understand. She always forgave him but, every time he messed with her already busy schedule, he felt like he was disappointing her.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as his friend picked up the phone. He had just entered his apartment building and was wondering if he had the time to cook dinner himself or if he should just give in and order take-out, as always. “I swear I didn’t forget. I just needed to finish this stupid article Lorenzo has been hounding me for, and it took longer than I expected. He’s been harassing Lily again, even though he knows she’s new and still trying to get the hang of things, and I’m honestly two seconds away from murdering him.”

“Someday you’ll no longer have to work for that lizard, and you’ll finally be able to live normally,” Catarina sighed. “And you have nothing to apologise for; we didn’t exactly decide on a time for our call. Just tell me you managed to get this week-end off. Madzie needs to see you again, Magnus.”

“I need to see her too,” Magnus rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. Screw that homemade dinner; he pulled out his laptop and sent out an order to his local pizza place. “And I did get this week-end off. Lorenzo didn’t look happy about it, but I completed this project faster than anyone else could have so it would have been unprofessional of him to deny me such a simple request. Madzie can have me all to herself on Saturday, I promise.”

“Thank god,” his best friend said. Magnus could imagine her smiling on the other side of the phone. He hoped his hard work would make up for their missed dinner dates. “I know I was pissed about you bailing, but I’m proud of you for never giving up on your job, no matter how shitty your boss is.”

This was the perfect opening. All throughout the day, thoughts of Lightwood Fashions had drifted through his mind. If he got a job there as a model, perhaps they would also consider him for their Media department once his contract was over. That would mean no more petty colleagues trying to bring him down, no more Lorenzo to satisfy, and no more Camille controlling his life from afar.

“I was actually thinking about quitting,” he announced.

Utter silence.

“I know it sounds insane,” he added, not wanting Catarina to think he was going crazy. “I’ve been dealing with this for years and there’s no reason for me to break now, but I’m so tired, Cat, and I just want to stop feeling like I’m drowning every time I walk into that building. That place takes a little bit out of me every time I enter it and I don’t know how much more I can take. And there’s… Lightwood Fashions opened model auditions for Fray’s spring collection.”

He didn’t have to mention how much that job would mean to him, or have to tell Catarina how long he had been dreaming of getting an opportunity like the one he was being presented with. She’d heard him rant about Fray’s work ever since the redhead had stepped into the spotlight, and she knew about the heartbreak Robert Lightwood’s rejection had brought upon him all those years ago.

She knew everything about him, and he didn’t think he could go through with this if she thought it was a bad idea. If she told him to stay at his current job and suffer for a while longer, he knew he would do it.

He would do it even if it dragged him down and made his body itch and left him tired and listless and impassive. Catarina was like an older sister to him, and he trusted her implicitly. If she thought modelling for Lightwood Fashions wasn’t worth the possible loss of his job, he would forget all about it and shove his dream to the back of his mind.

“Oh my god, Magnus! That’s amazing!” his best friend exclaimed. “Wait a second, doesn’t Raphael work for Lightwood? Why didn’t he tell us about this? Magnus, this is incredible! With Lightwood Sr. out of the picture, you definitely have a shot! They’re going to love you, and you’re finally going to get out of that crappy company.”

Relief flooded his veins. A part of his mind was still screaming at him, telling him this was a terrible idea, that he was too old for this sort of thing, but he didn’t care. If Catarina thought this was what he should do, then he wouldn’t deny himself the one thing he’d always wanted.

“You don’t think this is a terrible idea?” he asked, just to make sure.

“Magnus, you’ve always loved fashion,” Catarina answered patiently. “And you’ve always wanted to model, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. I know you had a bad experience a long time ago, but there’s no reason for you to be rejected this time. You could finally get to leave the company and people you hate. You’ll have the chance to be truly happy again. Whether or not it works out in the end, I think you should take the risk. I know you, Magnus, and you’ll end up regretting it if you don’t even try to get this contract.”

Magnus smiled wryly. There was a reason Catarina was his best friend. She knew exactly how his mind worked, even better than he did. She could read him like an open book and never hesitated to tell him when he was acting stupidly. She was smart and compassionate and empathetic, and Magnus trusted her with his life.

And as always, she was right. If he didn’t audition for this job, he would spend his whole life wondering if he had missed out on something extraordinary. He was almost 30, and for all his creativity and tendency to act on impulse, he had never really taken a professional risk.

Leaving Fade Media and becoming a model for Lightwood Fashions was exactly what he needed to regain the joy and excitement he had lost after Camille. He would rather have a few months there and get fired once his contract was over than another ten years at Fade Media, stuck with a boss he couldn’t stand and a position way below his skill level.

“Thank you,” he told his best friend, already switching to the Lightwood Fashions website on his computer.

The page was bright and welcoming, done in tasteful colours that reflected Fray’s latest works. Rumour had it her secret partner was a colour theory genius, and Magnus had to admit their palettes were always impeccable. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had had a hand in the creation of the website or if Lightwood preferred keeping everything separate.

“Their website is fancy,” Catarina said over the phone, startling Magnus. He should have known his best friend would look up the company and the job offer as soon as he mentioned it.

“The colour scheme matches Fray’s fall collection,” Magnus hummed. The collection had been released a few months ago and Magnus was just as in love with it as he was everything else Fray designed. “Everyone thought they were crazy for choosing purple as the dominant colour, but it worked out wonderfully. The public went absolutely crazy over the line.”

“Don’t they always?” Catarina chuckled. She wasn’t far from the truth. Although Lightwood had started as a luxury brand few could afford, the company had slowly started integrating cheaper – but no less stunning – options on top of their high-couture pieces. It was another reason why Magnus had gone back to supporting them after Lightwood Senior’s resignation. “You do realise this means you’ll be meeting your idols, right? After years of telling Raphael you didn’t care about getting to know Fray, you’re finally going to work with her.”

Magnus’ heart stopped. He hadn’t even considered that; hadn’t even thought about coming face to face with one of his idols, the talented woman who created the clothes he adored. He could have easily met her if he had wanted to, but something had always held him back. This time, there would be no avoiding it.

“Stop freaking out,” Catarina scoffed. Magnus knew she was rolling her eyes at him fondly in the safety of her apartment. “She’s going to love you. She’ll be so thankful to have a model as amazing as you, and then she’ll realise you’re a wonderful human being on top of that. There’s nothing to worry about, Magnus. Besides, you’ll have Raphael with you the whole time. Our dear friend may like to pretend he doesn’t care about us, but you know he’ll protect you against anyone who doesn’t treat you right.”

Magnus exhaled, trying to let his best friend’s words soothe him. He knew he was being ridiculous. He had met countless celebrities, had interviewed them, had worked with them, but Clary Fray had always been the one person he kept at a distance. He didn’t think he could stand it if he found out she wasn’t as kind as everyone made her out to be.

Before he could let himself fall back into his old insecurities again, another thought popped into his mind uninvited. Magnus perked up, a sly smirk appearing on his lips.

“Do you think I’ll finally find out who her secret partner is?” he wondered out loud. “Hell, Raphael might tell me himself once I’m his colleague. Surely, this is common knowledge within the team, right?”

“I don’t know, Magnus,” Catarina hummed thoughtfully. “Whoever this mysterious partner is, they clearly want to keep their identity hidden for the time being. Maybe you’ll find out once you work there, but maybe you won’t. Don’t get your hopes up and please, for the love of god, don’t push anyone into giving you an answer that might get you into trouble.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. His best friend was so dramatic sometimes. He understood why someone might want to keep their involvement hidden in order to avoid the spotlight, but surely Lightwood employees knew about the secret partner.

“Magnus,” Catarina repeated, a hint of warning in her voice. “If they tell you, that’s great. But if they don’t, leave it alone. You want this job more than you want to know this person’ secret. Please don’t ruin this for yourself.”

Immediately, Magnus deflated. His best friend was – once again – right. He couldn’t let his curiosity get in the way of what might be the job of his lifetime. No matter how much he wanted to know about Fray’s partner, no matter how enthralled he was by this person’s ability to choose the perfect colours and tell a story with their palette, it wasn’t why he was thinking of joining Lightwood Fashions.

He had managed to live five years without knowing who Fray worked with. He could live without it for as long as it took this person to step out of the shadows. Sighing heavily, he clicked on the ‘open auditions’ tab and tried to push the mystery to the back of his mind.

“I won’t ruin anything,” he promised Catarina, hoping he would be able to stay true to his word. “Now, want to help me with this application process or should I call our traitor of a friend?”

Catarina’s laughter echoed in his empty loft and Magnus felt a smile tug at his lips. Finally, after years of trudging through a job he hated, he was going to start anew.

A change was long overdue; it was time for him to be free.

[chicagocityofclans]

Imani Colt → Nicole Beharie → Hunter

→ Basic Information

Age: 35

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Birthday: September 7th

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Religion: Irreligion

→ Her Personality Imani is a stubborn and courageous woman, often putting other needs above her own. She keeps a tight rein on her emotions which is a product of her upbringing and her rigorous hunter training. Imani keeps things bottled up inside and only shares her feelings with immense pressure. As a result, she is often reserved and slow to anger, but beneath her tough exterior is someone who feels very deeply. Imani is protective and loyal to those close to her. She has intense emotions that rarely surface and are directed primarily toward the people she cares about most. Imani is knowledgeable, practical, intelligent and at times calculating. She has a talent for profiling and her skills have helped track down many well-hidden supernaturals. She is also very curious; especially when it comes to the immortal 3 (vampires, human shifters, and magic users)

Imani is a strong-willed woman capable of holding her own as a hunter. She can be ruthless to enemies and friendly to allies, making her a dangerous foe and an exceptionally reliable friend. Imani is both an experienced and capable hunter as well as a fiercely defensive maternal figure who is to be taken very seriously within the Colt and Anderson family. As the wife of the headhunter, Imani can take on the leadership position when necessary, bringing in the Anderson family person style to the Colts. As a hunter, she stays on topic. She wants to get the job done as much as anyone else. Imani prefers to gather as much information about a situation as she can before deciding on it. Through her association with the supernatural, Imani mind is open to never-ending possibilities and ideas. She is willing and able to point out the ways that ideas could go wrong, often demanding to plan for different outcomes. Imani and Blaine are incredibly good at putting the pieces together and brainstorming together. They make an amazing married couple and hunting partners.  

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Senior Hunter

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Neutral Colors and Hunting

Two Dislikes: Bright Colors and Venomous Snakes/Spiders

Two Fears: Gaining Weight and Meaningless Death

Two Hobbies: Learning (languages, cooking, information) and Journaling (about kills)

Three Positive Traits: Loyal, Protective, Clever

Three Negative Traits: Uncompromising, Denfinsive, Unmerciful

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Grant Anderson (Father): Imani has always been close to her father. He taught her everything she knows and made sure she had the best trainers. Imani knows that he wished she was a boy when she was born but cannot complain about the way she was raised and the benefits that followed. Grant is an amazing grandpa.

Candace Anderson (Mother): Imani mother is loving and smothering. Candace spoils her grandbabies and always spends them home hyper. Candace family believed in breeding for the best possible hunter outcomes. Imani does not blame her mother for running and finds her story encouraging; especially about meeting her dad. This also made Imani life hell with a clingy and opinionated mother.  

Sibling Names:

Ebony Anderson (Sister): Ebony and Imani have a common sisterly bond. They have each others backs and get along well but are also constantly fighting about stupid things and pissing each other off. Ebony encouraged Imani to start dating Blaine and has always been supportive of their relationship.

Children Names:

Bryson Colt (Son): Bryson is showing a lot of promise. At the age of 6, Bryson can recite random species traits better than the ‘Baby Shark’ song. Imani loves her oldest son and thinks he is a perfect mixture of Blaine and herself but he takes after his father in temper, ruthlessness and intelligence.

Wesson Colt (Son): Wesson is a hellion at the simple age of 4 and a half. Everyone swears Wesson is more Anderson than Colt and naming him after a gun was a horrible idea. Wesson is a handful but Imani loves him all the same.

Orion Colt (Son): Akins twin brother. Blaine and Imani were trying one more time for a girl but were surprised to find out they were having twin boys. Orion has just turned 2 years old. Imani is tempted to try again for a girl now that the boys are older, however, Orion needs more care and love than her older sons.

Akins Colt (Son): Orion twin brother. Blaine and Imani were trying one more time for a girl but were surprised to find out they were having twin boys. Akins has just turned 2 years old. Imani is tempted to try again for a girl now that the boys are older, however, Akins needs more love and attention than her older sons.

Romantic Connections:

Blaine Colt (Husband): Blaine was not love at first sight or anything gushy. When they first met she was unimpressed by the legendary Colt. To take him down a few notches she purposely went after his hunts and tried to beat him to the punch. That peaked his interest in her and hers in him. Imani learned to care and respect him and then eventually fell in love with Blaine. He is her husband and best friend. They dated for 3 years before getting married in secret. Blaine and Imani have recently celebrated their 7 year anniversary.

Platonic Connections:

Colin Colt (Brother-In-Law): Imani brought her concerns about D.W. up to Colin which he quickly found excuses for. She thought they once had a really strong relationship, but Colin’s blatant refusal to even look at evidence and suspicions she has had has really soured their bond. She is going to keep looking into it, however, because he’s family.

Elle Colt (Sister-In-Law): Elle and Imani get on like houses on fire. Elle has told Imani that she was exactly what he needed in order to get his ego deflated a bit. They talk about ideas and strategy often, and respect each other’s minds.

Alice Colt (Sister-In-Law): Alice is like a mini Blaine. She worked long hours to try and get Alice back into fighting shape. She was also the one to discover one armed archery, and helped Alice find her passion for the sport again.

Amy Colt (Sister-In-Law): Amy plays fast and loose, but a part of her enjoys it. She trusts that Amy knows what she’s doing. They get along really well and Imani feels like a part of the girl’s group.

Casper Colt (Brother-In-Law): Imani agrees with her husband about Casper. He has no future as a hunter. It’s a shame, because he might have been something if someone intervened earlier.

Megan Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani gives unofficial credit to Megan for getting her and Blaine together. Had Megan not suggested a collaboration, she’d never have given him more than a split second of thought.

Iris Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani has been teaching Iris the ins and outs of online tracking. It’s not a skill that the Colts teach their tracker, but she thinks Iris will catch on quickly.

Hailey Colt (Cousin-In-Law): Imani approves of Hailey. She thinks she is a very capable woman on her own, and would keep her cousin on his toes. They don’t often talk, but they had a great conversation about moves and techniques not too far back.

Trevon Anderson (Cousin): Trevon is Imani’s favorite cousin. They get along the best out of all the other Anderson. She does not feel like Trevon will stab her in the back since they share a lot of the same views and are willing to go above and beyond on hunt. Imani had given Trevon the thumbs up when he expressed his interest in Hailey Colt. Imani has gone as far as hinting it to Blaine and Alexus.

Nia Anderson (Cousin): Nia is the model cousin and no one else can compare. Imani knew their family did not do it on purpose but she spent her entire childhood being compared to Nia. As adults, Imani can put the past behind her and be civil with her cousin but Imani believes she sailed through life.

Marquis Anderson (Cousin): Imani feels for her little cousin. She wishes she could do more for him but the most she can do is keep her door open for him.

Raven Jenkins (Cousin): Imani is glad Raven did not turn out like her mother. She enjoys the few hunts they take together and is happy she is friends with Alice.

Alexus Anderson (Aunt): Alexus has always been a judging figure in Imani’s life. She always had to work and trained harder to try and please her aunt; which never worked. It wasn’t until adulthood did Alexus start showing her any respect and quit her unfair judgmental assumptions.

Arthur Milligan (Undefined): The Anderson works with a lot of supernatural creatures but Arthur is one of her favorites. Whenever he has an ‘untouchable’ he slides it her way and she takes care of the problem for him or the other supernatural cops.

Churchill Darling (Undefined): Imani thought she was in trouble when a known human shifter first approached her but he had a box full of cases involving untouchable humans and another box involving unpunished members of Clan Rat. Imani shared the box with the Colts and Anderson. They’ve been working on it for months. Imani is thinking of ways to show some gratitude towards him.

Hostile Connections:

Eric Lasiter (Strained Friendship): Eric believes Imani stole from him and she has tried multiple times to explain the misunderstanding without any luck.

Jazmine Anderson (Disappointment): Jazmine stole information off of Imani’s phone and ruined her friendship with Eric Lasiter; and possibly her reputation.

Tirra Jenkins (Dislike/Annoyance): Since marrying into the Jenkins family, Tirra constantly acts as if she is better than the Anderson family. Imani is annoyed that she lost one of her favorite aunts but Tirra really grinds her gears.

D.W. Colt (Distrusts): Imani instincts are going haywire in concern to D.W, she seemed like a nice enough person at first but the more Imani watched her, the more her warning bells turned into sirens. The fact that no one is taking Imani seriously in regards to D.W is pissing Imani off and making her more aggressive towards D.W.  

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background)

→ The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

[tracehummelanderson]

PRESENTING THE KINDA NEW + POSSIBLY IMPROVED TRACY TURNBLAD . . . 

[ARIA SHAHGHASEMI, CISMALE, HE/HIM] who’s that? oh it’s { TRACY “TRACE” HUMMEL-ANDERSON }. i hear they’re { SEVENTEEN } and a { SENIOR } at { WMHS },  have a voice like { AARON TVEIT } and are part of { A/V CLUB, DRAMA CLUB, NEW DIRECTIONS }. they’re known to be { LAIDBACK and COMICAL } and { DIRECT and SENSITIVE }. some people say they remind them of { A TV ON AT 3 AM, POORLY MASKING THE SMELL OF SMOKE, & THE TERROR OF AN UNCLEAR FUTURE  }. only one way to find out! [syd, 19, she/her, est]

BASICS

Full Name: Tracy Laurence Hummel-Anderson

Birthday: June 20th

Biological Parents: Blaine Hummel-Anderson, NPC Surrogate

Age: 17

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Education: High School Senior

Voice Claim: Aaron Tveit

Activities: A/V Club, Drama Club, New Directions

ASTROLOGY

Sun: Gemini

Moon: Pisces

Rising: Aries

LIKES/DISLIKES

Likes: old movies, inciting giggles, acting, different types of laughter, travel journals.

Dislikes: the future, rules, glamping, oranges, uniformity

TL;DR BIO

Trace Hummel-Anderson is both a trouble maker and comic relief whose heart of gold shines in the moments where it matters. Though since getting booted out of Dalton Academy, calling it quits with long term girlfriend, Lemon Lopez-Pierce, and experiencing a lot of anxiety around future plans he’s been slacking his way through his senior year at WMHS.

BIO

BEING A BOY NAMED TRACY INSTANTLY GAVE TRACE SOME AMMUNITION FOR GREAT JOKES AS A KID.  he wasn’t born confident, funny, and charming though. it took tracy, a gentle and sensitive little kid some time to get from running into his dads’ arms when being teased to whipping around insisting he was named after tracy of the turnblad variety rather than spencer tracy. ( a lie )

as kurt and blaine’s first born child, he got a lot of love from both his family and their friends that never really rubbed off. even at seventeen years old he’ll melt into a hug from his grandma carol or grandpa burt. when the couple decided they were going to have children, their first choice would’ve been rachel had she not already been pregnant with her and jesse’s “first co-production”. while they could’ve waited, or jumped the gun earlier. it came down to rachel’s timing in only being ready for kids after her first tony win and the hummel-anderson’s deciding to start their own family just a few months before rachel’s due date. in the end, they went with a healthy surrogate looking for a little money and decided their first child would be blaine’s, while the second could be kurt’s.

although joey and him are only a little under a year apart in age, trace took his big brother role very seriously growing up and he still does now. despite this being one of few things tracy took seriously and attempted to act like the tough sibling, the reality of the matter was that he was sensitive. he would rather make bullies on the playground laugh than confront the actual issue at hand

later in his childhood, tracy was turning out to be  a really funny kid. making people laugh was his favorite type of performance. sometimes the effort he put into making people laugh landed him in some trouble, but he always felt it was worth it.

besides being a class clown from kindergarten and on, it was only natural being named after two old hollywood stars that trace fall in love with film. by the time he was six he could recite laurence olivier’s hamlet soliloquy and knew spencer tracy’s doctor jekyll and mister hyde like the back of his hand. from a young age, he knew he wanted to be in the movies.

most of that stayed the same as he grew older. he blew through elementary and middle school like a hurricane of contagious laughter. he was a kid that could make teacher’s laugh even while they were pissed at him. that kind of carefree joking was snuffed out when he chose to attend dalton academy for high school since their arts program was superior to mckinley’s. despite not trying very hard and often acting like a moron, trace is very naturally smart and averages out as an A/B student even when in advanced classes. ( which, doesn’t help his ego. ) even though he was kind of fed up with the uniformity, tradition, and being on his best behavior at the time of his expulsion from dalton, he still misses both his friends and cousins who still attend the acadmey. the upside? he’s finding that carefree part of him again and loving the laid back environment. maybe a little too much....

while having two dads became more and more normalized as time passed, trace still felt incredibly insecure about it at his times. while he had developed this humuorus shell, beneath cracking jokes and laughing his way through each day, sat that same tender heart. he loved his dads and advocated fully for their community, but what he didn’t love was the inevitable teasing and ‘yo mama’ jokes that followed him his whole life. because of this trace tends to put up a pretty tough front, at times it can take a little squinting to see his heart of gold, but generally he prefers teasing and pestering as his preferred way to show affection. while trace tends to find himself as the shaggy, genie, or donkey of the friend group, when it comes down to it, his endearing qualities always shine through.

at the end of his high school career, he's hoping to head off someplace great like new york city and attend NYADA, but there’s also a lot of fear surrounding his future and wondering if the risk is even worth it. in the mean time, he might as well distract himself by dicking around at mckinley and enjoying life responsibility free while he still can.

IN GAME PLOTS

after making his own hot or not list to retaliate against lincoln clarington-smythe (rip), trace put them both in the hot seat and got them both kicked out of dalton. trace is now attending mckinley, oddly basking in his newfound freedom. unfortunately this is leading him to slack off a little.

PLAYLIST x ll PINTEREST x

[goldstarnation]

SEPTEMBER 2020 GOLD STAR MEDIA SCHEDULES & REVIEW

Members may earn 3 points each (up to 6 points) for writing, by the end of October 7 KST:

A solo para of 400+ words based on their monthly schedule (does not count toward your monthly total).

A thread of six posts (three per participant, including the starter) based on their monthly schedule.

Threads do not have to take place directly during an important date listed on the schedule, but must be related to what the muse is mentioned to be doing in the paragraph explaining their schedule/the company’s schedule for the month and/or their thoughts on the mentioned activities or lack thereof.

These schedules may be updated throughout the month if new information needs to be added.

Reminder: August schedule posts are due by the end of September 7 KST. Please do not post schedule posts in the fmdschedule tag.

OVERALL COMPANY

As has become standard at this point, all idols under the company will be permitted a short, three-day break over Chuseok unless they have individual schedules (admin note: points claims) conflicting with the vacation. It is a true break, meaning idols may travel as they wish and are capable of doing within such a short time period and, if they don’t have individual schedules, their manager will be off the clock as well.

Important dates:

September 30(-October 2): Chuseok vacation (no activities save for any individual schedules).

GOLD STAR SOLOIST 1

Rehearsals for her concerts get more intense this month, as she’ll be beginning the tour next month. She’ll also be holding two mini fanmeetings on the day of her twelfth debut anniversary where she’ll let in 120 fans drawn from a lottery of her fancafe per time. Since she’s holding concerts next month, the fanmeeting will be more focused on meeting with fans in a more intimate setting and interacting with the celebrity MC than giving more than a handful of performances of old classics. She won’t be performing any of her songs from her latest album at the fanmeeting to save them for her concert. Other than that, she’s given the kind of freedom in her schedules only able to be afforded to someone of her seniority and status in the industry.

Important dates:

September 18: Twelfth anniversary fanmeetings.

GOLD STAR SOLOIST 2

With the turning of the seasons over to fall, the time comes for her to record her next comeback. Her comeback, as has previously been conveyed to her by the company, will be a holiday single release that she’ll be putting out in both Korean and English. Christmas releases in the industry are often hit or miss in popularity and Gold Star hasn’t done them often, but it’s been decided that she fits the image for one well, so she’ll need to go into the recording studio this month to record “Sweater” and its English version.

Important dates:

N/A

GOLD STAR SOLOIST 3

He starts off the month by filming the music video for the title track of his English album, as well as live performance videos for his title track with his featuring artist and for his release from earlier this year, “Love Die Young”. Three weeks later, the album is released worldwide and he begins promotions. Though it’s an English album, he’ll be promoting solo on music shows for a month to meet with his Korean fans. To help promote it internationally, though, he’ll be performing a set at a YouTube Music Night event in Seoul and the videos will be uploaded on YouTube shortly after.

Important dates:

September 5:  “Congratulations” M/V filming.

September 6: “Congratulations” Live Performance video and “Love Die Young” Live Performance video filming.

September 24: Release of ”Congratulations” and Before We Begin album, music show promotions continue through October 24.

September 26: Performance at YouTube Music Night Seoul.

SILHOUETTE

Preparations for their repackage are more laid back than usual due to the nature of the comeback not being performance heavy and the repackage only including one additional song. This month, they do have fittings for their stage outfits, but the fittings will be shorter than usual since they don’t have to worry too much about the range of movement the outfits offer. Later in the month, the members will go in for a simple photo shoot with Grazia Korea that will be released in their November issue. The photos will be accompanied by an interview, where the members will be asked about passing their tenth anniversary, the success of their last comeback, and their future plans.

Important dates:

September 13: Comeback stage outfit fittings.

September 21: Photo shoot for Grazia Korea’s November issue.

ARIA

Queendom nears its final month of filming next month, so Gold Star have continued to clear out Aria’s schedules to focus on the show. The eventual airing of their “Sixth Sense” cover stage this month brings a surprising amount of criticism among fan communities, largely drummed up by the stark contrast to the image the public is used to from them and for covering a song by their company seniors that’s still freshly released. Management instructs the members not to let that discourage them, though, as they see the Fandora’s Box performance as the perfect chance to show exactly what fans want from them. The group’s main vocal and lead dancer/vocal will be representing the group in the vocal unit and performance unit stages respectively. Full details of Queendom filming for this month can be found here.

Important dates:

September 3: Episode two of Queendom airs.

September 7: Queendom episode seven filming.

September 10: Episode three of Queendom airs.

September 17: Episode four of Queendom airs.

September 24: Episode five of Queendom airs.

September 29: Quendoom episode eight & nine filming (unit stage, Fandora’s Box stage).

ORIGIN

The end of “Black Swan” promotions on September 14 only allows a few days before their album release and a brand new round of promotions for “On”. In those few days, the group will once again fly out to the US, this time to New York City, to film a performance in the middle of the night at Grand Central Terminal that will be aired a few days later. They’ll also fit in a few radio interviews while they’re there before they make a quick return to Seoul in order to begin music show promotions once again.

Important dates:

September 14: End of music show promotions.

September 14: Release of “Outro: Ego”.

September 15: Filming of performance on The Tonight Show in Grand Central Terminal in New York, NY, USA (to be aired September 19).

September 18: Release of “On”, music show promotions continue through October 18.

IMPULSE

While the company focuses on the debut preparations for PULS2, the other members of Impulse are offered an extended vacation for Chuseok that they are free to take unless they have individual schedules that will interfere with it. They’re encouraged to take advantage of the break while they can, as they’ll be hosting a fanmeeting before the year comes to a close.

Important dates:

September 20(-October 3): Extended Chuseok vacation (excluding PULS2 unit members).

       ↳ PULS2

While their group mates are offered vacation, the members of Impulse’s new sub-unit don’t get the same opportunity, as they must continue to work hard preparing for their unit debut. Now that their album is recorded, this month, they’ll learn and practice the choreography for the title track “Focus”, as well as b-sides “Drunk On You”, “Senses”, and “Long Black” in preparation for music show promotions and the showcase tour they’ll be embarking on.

Important dates:

N/A

FUSE

"Psycho” is a success, whether that’s because of the time fans of the group were kept waiting or because the song is more fitted to the public’s tastes. Promotions are kept to a minimum for reasons management doesn’t go into depth on, with only one fan sign and no radio show appearances or television appearances beyond music shows, but it doesn’t stop the song from earning praise and several music show wins. Fuse has re-proven their place as a top girl group this time, if anyone has begun to doubt them. Their Chuseok break begins slightly later than everyone else’s on the evening of September 30, but Gold Star will offer them an extension of their break next month to make up for it.

Important dates:

September 12: Fan sign in Gangnam, Seoul.

September 30: End of music show promotions.

ELEMENT

With no comeback yet confirmed internally, the members will take a brief trip to Los Angeles from September 25 to September 28, during which time, they will film a Halloween-themed video with Access Hollywood that will be uploaded next month and they will also film some content for their YouTube channel. During the short time they’re there, they’ll film a video of them taking a guided tour of the best tourist spots in LA and will also be able to explore Los Angeles themselves with self-cams on September 25. On the 26th, they’ll film the Access Hollywood Mukbang video and get time to themselves off-camera. On September 27, they’ll film a vlog of the whole group visiting Universal Studios Hollywood. 

Important dates:

September 25: Los Angeles guided tour and free exploration Youtube video filmings.

September 26: Access Hollywood Spooky Halloween Candy Mukbang video filming.

September 27: Universal Studios Hollywood vlog Youtube video filming.

FEMME FATALE

Before they hold their fanmeeting next month, the members have to go into fittings for their stage outfits. The stylists will take into consideration some of the members’ preferences due to the more intimate setting of a fanmeeting, but the stylists will still have the final say in what the members wear. The members are also expected to continue rehearsing their solo stages as they began to do last month.

Important dates:

September 14: Fan meeting stage outfit fittings.

[chimchimsauce]

Hit or Miss (1)

In a desperate attempt to rebuke the advances of her overly energetic coworker, YN asks her quiet roommate Jungkook to pretend to be her boyfriend until Taehyung lays off. But YN comes to realize that there's more to the quiet man than she could have ever imagined.

I guess they never miss, huh?

Tag List:  @jeonkookie-oppita 

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Chapter One: Caught in a Lie

As a head full of brightly colored hair comes into view, YN frantically looks around for a place to hide. As she is attempting to squeeze between a bookshelf and the wall, a warm hand lands on her arm.

"What are you doing back there, silly? You're about fifteen years too old to be trying to hide behind bookshelves in the children's section,"

Stifling a sigh, YN pulls herself from her shoddy hiding place and dusts off her polo, pulling on a pathetic looking smile.

"Hello, Taehyung," she says, wishing she'd been paying closer attention to the lock on the wall. She could have been better prepared for his shift to start.

"Good afternoon, gorgeous," he says, winking at her.

"Shouldn't you be clocking in?" YN asks, taking a step to the side in an attempt to increase the space between her and her coworker.

"Ah, I'll do it in a bit. I want to talk to you first. I missed you all weekend long. Why didn't you respond to any of my texts?"

He's pouting now, beautiful face pulled down and brown eyes peeking out from under long lashes. Taehyung is an attractive man, no doubt. He's tall with long legs, has a voice deeper than the Grand Canyon, a jawline that's known to nick people, and a face so handsome he gets stared at on the daily.

But he's also the biggest pain in the ass on the planet. He has no boundaries and shoves himself into whatever he's even remotely interested in. It was charming at first, how he wanted to be in the loop on what was going on in YN's life but he quickly became overbearing and borderline intolerable.

About a month ago, for some reason, Taehyung decided he wanted to elevate himself from obnoxious coworker to obnoxious love interest and YN's had to all but beat him off with a stick. No matter how many ways she can think of turning down his plentiful date suggestions he always comes back with a different idea. YN would flat out reject him but despite his annoying existence, Taehyung is actually a really sweet guy and she doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

"I was busy," she says, scooting away a bit further.

Taehyung only advances.

"You have that sociology exam coming up, right? How's studying going? Need a partner?"

Here comes the bright, boxy smile he's famed for.

"Ah, it's going fine, Tae, thank you. And no, I'm good. I think I'll be fine on my own,"

"Are you sure? I could -"

"Hey, you two!" one of the head supervisors, a middle-aged woman with a hatred for children shouts, "Quit messing around back there and get to work! You don't get paid to make out!"

All the patrons in the library look at the pair in judgment and YN's cheeks heat up. From the supervisor's angle, it probably does look like they're getting into no good.

YN shoves Taehyung away from her harshly and begins to speedwalk away, turning to face him and his shit eating grin as she turns away. She manages to avoid him for the rest of her shift, shoving the awkward encounter from earlier into the depths of her brain and refusing to think about it. Taehyung tries to catch her alone several times but to no avail, the man having to wait until she clocks out to approach her.

“So about that study date -”

“Taehyung!” YN nearly shouts, startling the man.

His signature smile slips off his face, her sudden abrasive attitude taking him by surprise.

“Look I - “ she wets her lips, struggling to come up with an excuse. “I’m really flattered by . . . everything you’ve done recently, but I can’t accept. I have a boyfriend,”

Thank God she’s not a wooden puppet.

“You what? Since when?” he asks, ego a bit bruised.

“Just recently. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but you don’t really let me get anything out,” YN says, feeling proud of her little lie.

“Oh,” Taehyung begins, voice small, “I guess I’ve been making you uncomfortable then,”

“No, not at all,”

Yes! Every day!

“You didn’t know! Don’t feel bad about it,” YN finishes, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and patting him a few times.

Why didn’t she do this sooner?

“Who is it?” he asks, suddenly perking up.

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend? Who is it?”

“Um,” YN says, mind blanking.

She’s only in her first year and has so far spent the majority of her time studying, working, and sleeping, so she doesn’t have many friends, even fewer who she could pin this on. But there is -

“Jungkook!” YN exclaims, spitting out her elusive roommate’s name before she can think it through.

“Jeon? Jeon Jungkook?” Taehyung asks.

“Ah, yeah,” YN says, feeling like she chose the wrong person based on the look on her co worker’s face, “Do you know him?”

“He’s my best friend,”

Fuck!

Before she can begin backpedaling to save face, Taehyung smiles widely.

“That sly dog! I didn’t know you’re the girl he’s been talking about! He knows we work together, he should have told me,”

YN laughs fakely, nodding her head and stepping down the staircase, already thinking of a way to beg Jungkook to go along with her scheme. In the entirety of the near year the two have shared an apartment, she has spoken maybe fifteen words to the man. All she knows about him is his name, the fact that he’s a senior, and he is an absolute clean freak. He hardly leaves any presence of him in the apartment, no jackets left out, no dirty dishes.

For all she knows, Jungkook doesn’t speak because he hates her guts. Oh, why did she say she’s dating him? No doubt he’ll tell Taehyung that she’s lying and then she’ll never be able to show her face at work or at home. She would have been better off saying she had a sugar daddy or that she was dating the old man who owns the antique shop in town.

“Well have a good rest of the day, YN. See you tomorrow, eh? And oh, I was serious about the study thing. If you really do need some help, let me know. I had a near perfect score in that course,”

“Okay, thank you,” she replies, waving quickly before dashing away down the sidewalk.

By the time she arrives at the apartment complex and runs up the stairs she’s completely out of breath, hands pressed onto her knees as she struggles to take in oxygen. Her hands shake as she fishes around her bag for her keys, dropping them twice before she manages to unlock the door.

Just like always, the apartment is dead silent and spotless, not a thing out of place. She throws her bag on the floor with a loud thump, leaning against the wall as she tries to even out her breathing.

“Jungkook!”

A very tired and somewhat alarmed looking man emerges from his bedroom, hair all mused and sweats wrinkled from where he no doubt had been sleeping.

“What?” he asks, voice lower than it usually is as exhaustion clogs him.

“I - I need a favor,” she says, finally being able to stand up straight without feeling like she’s gonna pass out.

“What?” he repeats, slightly annoyed.

“You know Taehyung, right? He said you’re friends,”

“You woke me up to ask about Taehyung?” he asks, irritation skyrocketing.

“N - no. I, well basically, Taehyung’s been pestering me a lot over the last month, trying to get me to date him and such and -”

“Can you get on with it?”

Things are not going well. Jungkook looks like he’s exactly three seconds from walking back into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I accidentally told Taehyung that I was dating you,”

Jungkook lifts a single eyebrow and YN blushes, completely embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry. I was just trying to get him to back off and you were the first person I could think of. I didn’t know you knew him and now it’s this big mess and I don’t know what to do. Could you just go along with it? Just for a little while? Just pretend? Please,” YN asks, legitimately begging him.

“Okay,” he says, turning to head back to his bedroom.

“Wait, really?” YN asks, shocked.

They may be roommates but they’re also strangers. There’s no reason for him to agree to this.

“Did you want me to say no?” he questions, pausing to look back at her.

“I’m just . . . I expected you to,”

“Well, I didn’t. Look, can we finish talking about this later? I just got back home from work and I’m exhausted,”

“Yeah, sure,” YN says, watching the door click close gently behind him.

“What the hell just happened?” she whispers under her breath, shaking her head and moving to the fridge.

She needs a drink.

Chapter Two

[iam93percentstardust]

The Meet Cute

Written for @cap-ironman Bingo prompt S-1: Romantic comedy

Find on AO3 here (watch out for the read more!)

Fury’s apparently sent a car to pick them up from the gym. They’re walking out when the director passes him a folder. It’s got the SHIELD logo stamped across the front, the words “Avengers Initiative” underneath. Steve flips it open to see a picture of a young woman dressed in a black skintight suit with flaming red hair.

He doesn’t know who she is but, as he flips through the other pages, he realizes that he can guess. “This is my team?” he asks.

Fury gives a short nod. “Natasha Romanoff,” he says. “Ex-Soviet, now works for SHIELD.”

He keeps talking but Steve’s not listening anymore. He’s paused on a picture of a man, bright brown eyes, fluffy hair, and the sort of manic energy that makes itself known even in a photograph. “Who’s this?” he interrupts.

Fury pauses in his explanation of… well, Steve’s not sure who. He doesn’t think he’s still talking about Natasha Romanoff but the last thing he’d heard was her name and then he’d tuned out. “Tony Stark,” Fury says. “Iron Man.” He gives him a shrewd look. “Why?”

“I know him.”

“Yeah, you would. That’s Howard’s kid. Twice as clever but don’t tell him I said that. His ego’s big enough as is.”

Steve frowns. The man does look like Howard, has that same devil-may-care grin, but that’s not why he knows him.

Six Months Ago

Steve comes out of the ice on a Tuesday. Fury finds him in Times Square, tells him that he’s been asleep for seventy years, and advises him to take a few months off to adjust to the new time period. Steve spends one day wandering Brooklyn because he’s clearly a masochist and one day sitting at a café sketching a phallic looking tower that he doesn’t recognize from his earlier life (at one point, a red and gold robot flies overhead and his heart aches as he realizes how much Bucky would have loved the future). By Friday, he’s back in Fury’s office pleading for another mission.

Fury tries to talk him out of it, tries to tell him to take more time off, but Steve refuses each offer. He doesn’t tell him that he thinks he might walk off the side of a building if he has to sit in his apartment one more day and think about what he’s lost.

Two months later, he’s bouncing from mission to mission, spending the entirety of his free time in an old-style gym he finds a few blocks from his new apartment. He suspects that the gym is SHIELD-run because Brooklyn seems to be entirely skinny guys with bad haircuts and girls wearing flannels and fake glasses these days and everyone who frequents his gym is big and burly and way too good at boxing to be anything other than an agent. He doesn’t say anything though. The gym’s open late and even though it painfully reminds him of the 40s, he likes the style.

Besides, who would he tell? Everyone he wants to talk to is dead.

Fury hands him a file one day. Steve flips it open on his way out the door. He skims, stops less than two steps from Fury’s door, and turns around.

“Sir, this is a reconnaissance mission,” he points out.

Fury raises one eyebrow. “And?”

“Well- sir- I-” He stops. He’s not the person people pick for reconnaissance missions. He’s not the kind of person who blends into the background, not after he got the serum and not even really before.

There’s an uncomfortable look of pity in Fury’s one good eye. Steve ducks his head. He’s tired of people looking at it like that. He got a shitty hand, sure, but it had happened. The best he can do is now try to move on from it- or at least, look like it. 

“You’ll be fine,” Fury tells him. “I’m sending a senior agent with you. He’s in your file.”

~

He meets Clint Barton only a few steps down the hall as the man literally rolls out of an air vent near the ceiling. Oddly enough, he’s snoring so Steve fully expects him to hit the ground in a crumpled heap but he lands in a crouch and dusts himself off.

“I meant to do that,” the man says casually. He holds out his hand for Steve to shake. “Clint Barton. I think I’m in there.”

He jerks a thumb at the folder Steve’s holding. Steve glances from him to the folder and flips to the back where Fury’s provided the dossier on the other agent working the case with him. Sure enough, Clint’s picture is provided in the corner along with a list of his abilities and a few of his past cases.

Steve resumes walking as he skims the page. He reads over the words Gifted in fifteen fighting styles and Trained in espionage and then raises his eyes to watch as Clint trips over thin air- or maybe it was a dust particle. Steve’s not sure.

“You don’t have to act around me,” he says.

Clint glances at him. “What?” he asks. “Oh, sorry.” He reaches up to his ear, where Steve notes some sort of earpiece, and fiddles with it. “Turned off my hearing aids for my nap.”

“It’s an act,” Steve says. “You can stop now.”

Clint grins lopsidedly at him. “Enh,” he grunts. “Keeps the baby agents on their toes. So where are we off to?”

Steve flips the folder back open. “A coffeeshop,” he states aloud. “Downtown Manhattan.”

Clint takes the folder from him and skims it. Steve runs a hand over his face. He’s got the beginnings of a beard. It still feels a little weird. He hadn’t been able to grow one before the serum and during the war, all standard kits were equipped with a razor so it’s new to come off an undercover mission in Bolivia and realize that he’s got a beard coming in.

“Possible Maggia front,” Clint reads. He catches the confused furrow on Steve’s brow and continues, “Like the Mafia but worse. A lot worse. Fury likes to try and cut them off whenever they pop up but he doesn’t normally tackle ‘em this fast.”

“What’s the address?” Steve asks, thinking of possible reasons for Fury moving in so quickly.

“205 Park Avenue,” Clint replies. “Oh- it’s near Stark Tower. Fury probably doesn’t want them near Stark.”

“Stark?”

“Yeah,” Clint says distractedly. He winks at a pretty redhead walking in the opposite direction (she rolls her eyes). “Electronics and robotics company but their last shareholders meeting announced that they’re moving into clean energy or something like that.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly. Not related to Howard then; Howard had been moving into weapons the last time he saw him.

Clint turns a page in the file. “Hey, how good’s your latte art?”

“My what?”

~

They spend three months working at the coffeeshop. The horrors of working in retail and customer service are nothing new. People apparently haven’t changed much in the seventy years he was in the ice. He gets pretty good at latte art, excellent at remember regulars’ names, and terrible at managing the occasional assholes who come into the shop and expect faster service just because they’re rich. 

The owner laughs hysterically when he sees the dent in the wall made by the guy who grabbed Katie’s ass as she was dropping off his coffee. “That’s gonna be hell to explain,” he says.

“Sorry,” Steve offers, not sorry at all.

The owner just waves him off. “Did he deserve it?”

“Yep.”

“It’s fine. I know firsthand how bad these guys can be. Just don’t let it happen again.” (It happens again three more times but Steve always makes sure to throw them into the same spot on the wall).

~

He and Clint end up deciding that the coffeeshop is decidedly not a Maggia front and that the men frequenting it happen to be a coincidence. Clint puts in his two weeks’ notice about a week before Steve does. The last week without him is a lot quieter. Clint as an agent has a very quiet presence (when he’s not acting out to “keep the baby agents on their toes”) but Clint undercover is loud and bumbling and cheerful. He fills a room. Steve isn’t entirely certain which version of Clint he likes better- or which one is actually real- but it is definitely an experience working at the café without him around.

It’s his last day working there and Steve’s just barely opened the shop when the front door slams open. It bounces off the wall and nearly rebounds into the face of the man opening the shop. 

Steve starts to reach out a hand to help but then realizes he’s all the way on the other side of the room and can’t do much from there. It doesn’t matter though because the man manages to dodge the door. It takes Steve a moment to recognize him but he does eventually place him as one of the regulars. It’s just odd seeing him there at six in the morning when he usually shows up just before closing. He looks manic and bright and awake, a far cry from the usual exhausted circles under his eyes. Katie says he’s a fantastic tipper. Steve wouldn’t know; he’s never personally served the man.

The man traipses up to the counter, gaze fixed on his phone. “Morning, Katie, my love,” he says. “Usual please.”

“Not Katie,” Steve says. “And I don’t know what your usual is.”

It takes a moment for the voice to register in the man’s mind and then he slowly raises his eyes to meet Steve’s. They widen a little in shock, then narrow, then turn dark and heated. Steve catches his breath. It’s been a long time since anyone looked at him like that (he thinks it might have been the blonde SSR agent who’d kissed him). For a moment, it’s a little surprising seeing that look from a man but then he remembers the files Fury had given him on LGBT rights. Things have changed since his time and entirely for the better.

“Hello, darling,” the man purrs. “You must be new here.”

Steve’s offended for all of a second and then he thinks about the clear exhaustion that’s usually dripping from every line of the man’s body and the way it had often seemed like the promise of coffee was the only thing keeping him standing.

“Nope,” he says amusedly.

The man looks at him confusedly. “No? I think I’d remember seeing someone like you.”

Steve has to fight to keep the blush from his face. “I wouldn’t. You’ve been pretty tired every other time you’ve come in here.”

The man grins at him. “Aw,” he croons. “You remembered me.”

He doesn’t know what possesses him to say, “Pretty people aren’t hard to remember.”

His grin grows wider. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Your beard!” Steve blurts out. “I like- it’s the- I’m just digging myself into a hole, aren’t I?” He drops his head into his hands.

“It’s okay,” the man says and leans across the counter.

“Would it help if I said I’m an artist?” Steve asks, voice muffled.

He can practically hear the delight in the man’s voice as he says, “You think I’m pretty enough for art?”

“You must know-” Steve begins and then raises his head. For the most part, the man looks incredibly smug as Steve expected but there’s the faintest hint of awe in his expression like he really doesn’t know how he looks. “Yeah, I do,” he finishes quietly.

The smile on the man’s face turns small and private. “I’m Tony,” he says.

Steve starts to answer with his name and then it all comes crashing down on him. He’s living a lie. This- this- whatever it is- isn’t real. He can’t actually have this. The smile that he hadn’t realized he’s wearing disappears from his face. He turns abruptly and grabs a coffee cup. They only carry one size here so it isn’t hard to pick one. “Your order?” he asks gruffly as his back is still turned.

It takes a long moment for Tony to say anything. There’s a line of decorative metallic plates along the back counter and, in the reflection of one of them, he can see the confusion and then disappointment cross Tony’s face.

“Oh,” Tony says softly, so softly that Steve, even with his hearing, has to strain to hear him.

He closes his eyes briefly. “Your order?” he repeats.

“Actually,” Tony begins and Steve’s heart drops. “I think I’ll skip the coffee today. Sorry to bother you.”

The bell above the door tinkles.

[stevieang]

Life As You Know It

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader Insert, college AU

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: High school clique drama, implied bullying, mean girls, boy/girl best friends, vague reference to death if you look sideways and upside down

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Summary: You and Tony Stark were best friends, your mothers were best friends, and you were always there for each other.  You went to the same high school and attended college in the same town.  Maria Stark loved you like her own, and knew that, given the right amount of time and opportunity, more could develop between you and her son.  Would the two of you catch on?

A/N: Congratulations to @fanficfaerie for this follower milestone, it is so well deserved!  Thank you for creating and running this Disney Song and Quote Challenge, I am sure it is time consuming and taxing in ways I can’t imagine.  I appreciate the opportunity to participate, though I’m a tad nervous - I’ve never written Tony Stark before - hope this fits the bill!  

Quote: “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” Winnie the Pooh 

You were fuming.  The good-girl, goodie-two-shoes rep that you so carefully cultivated with your teachers had always served you well.  It was a complete act, but only your besties had any inkling.  Until today, when the meanest of mean girls in your private school learned that you were responsible for a social media post detailing her daily atrocities.  Your best friend Tony Stark helped you erase all traces of a digital fingerprint, but somehow, Christine found out and, after enlisting her parents’ help, had your ass hauled to the principal’s office. 

As you listened to the adults yelling, lecturing, and threatening, all you could think of was the scene in “The Incredibles” when Dash’s teacher was trying to convince the principal to suspend him for putting a tack on his chair, to no avail.  Except in your reality, there was no parent in the room to defend or punish you.  Your parents were divorced, your Dad living on the other side of the country and your Mom, a pharmaceutical sales rep for a national company, always on the road.  You had a good relationship with both your parents, but they were of the mind that the biggest part of their job was to instill solid moral character and independence from an early age.  When you turned 16 and started driving, your mom made good on her plan to prepare you for adulthood.  You had to complete all necessary home and school functions, maintain an acceptable GPA, incur no disciplinary problems, and communicate daily with her about the little and big things going on in your life.  In exchange, you could come and go as you pleased, and have run of the house when she traveled, which was more often than not.  Your living situation was the envy of the school.  You weren’t about to do anything to mess it up, but today, it seemed you were on the fast-track to doing just that.

As your mom was out of town, the person they called, your guardian in absentia, was your Mom’s best friend since childhood, Maria Stark.  Mrs. Stark was used to being called in to various offices of authority to answer for her son’s behavior, ego, or infractions.  Tony started building internal combustion engines when he was 6, so high school was something he could have skipped altogether, but was forced upon him by his mother, to “foster social skills,” and help him get the “traditional teenage experience.”  He was smarter than all his teachers and never let an opportunity pass where he could point that out.  It was never well received.  You two made a great “we don’t fit the mold and we love it” duo.  

“Explain to me again why we’re here, sir, because I am at a loss to understand what rule this young lady has broken.”   Maria was elegant, sophisticated and, in her own right, a very smart woman.  When she asked a question, most likely she knew the answer; she was simply gathering information to support her argument against the unlucky person sitting across from her.

“Mrs. Stark, this young lady used social media to smear and defame the reputation of another student.  As the school handbook states, this is grounds for detention and possibly suspension, as well as joint treatment sessions with the school counselor.”  You leapt out of your chair, full of righteous teenage anger, intent on storming out.  Maria’s hand on your arm and supportive gaze cooled your temper; she wasn’t going to let anyone steamroll you.

The next hour was spent determining what evidence, if any, conclusively linked you to the incident.  Turns out, there was none, other than the suspicion of parents who were mortified that their daughter’s abhorrent behavior was now out in the world for anyone to see.  You admitted to nothing, and though Christine’s face was chartreuse as the rapidly-growing Twitter feed was read aloud, there was nothing that pointed to you, other than the well-known fact that you hated the girl’s guts.  It was the tragically classic scenario of a beautiful popular girl collecting herdmates to make fun of and torture girls like you, someone who didn’t fit nicely in any round holes. You left with a week’s worth of detention for the bogus crime of “lack of adherence to the school’s honor code” and a promise to clear your name when they found out you were innocent.  After you filled him in, Tony shared your disbelief, and immediately started plotting.

You and he sat in the backseat while Maria drove home, spending the entire time texting with back and forth about ways to get even with the principal, to continue to make Christine’s life terrible, and to find out who suggested you were responsible.

“Hey, you two.  I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know it’s some kind of revenge plan.  I won’t have that, Tony.  I will not have you two digging yourself any deeper.”

Tony:  My mom knows it was you?

You: I never said a word, but she’s not dumb.

Tony: No she’s not, but do you want to tell her?

You: u think I should?

Tony: I would.

You: You would put up a billboard on the highway to announce you did it.  Not a great role model.

Tony: I’ll give you that.

“Ok, Mrs. Stark, no revenge.  I promise.”  You leaned forward to lay your hand on her shoulder.  “Thank you so much for being there today.  I’d probably be suspended if you hadn’t been.”

“Yes, you’re right, I’m sure.  Let’s forget all this and have some dinner, shall we?”

The Starks employed a chef, but when Mr. Stark was traveling, Maria often chose to cook.  Tony ate, but he preferred the company of metal and circuits to people, so he often brought his plate in his room.  When you joined them, he was required to come to the table, and Maria always prepared something you both loved to eat.  Tonight, it was vegetable and pasta salad with steak and potatoes, accompanied by calm and civilized conversation that focused on things other than what happened earlier in the day.  You appreciated not having to rehash the event, again, not being judged.  You looked at the mother and son sitting next to you and felt cared for, taken care of.  It was nice to not be a grown-up for once.

Tony’s thoughts were multiplying on how to get back at that little bitch Christine and her circle of hags.  He looked at you, his best friend, one of the few people in the world that cared about him without reservation or expectations.  He looked at you, the girl who stood by him at every step, every failure, every success, who encouraged his work, appreciated his failures, and called him out on his bullshit at every opportunity.  Senior year was in full swing and he knew he never wanted to be without you.  He also knew your insecurities and that made his heart bend even more, because he had them, too.

Maria looked at you and her son and smiled.  Your rapid-fire conversation was smart, witty, and, at times, vulgar, but with an undercurrent of true affection.  When she and her best friend delivered what would be their only children within a month of each other, they made a promise to remain a part of each other’s lives.  That promise had borne this friendship playing out at her dining room table.  Tony looked at you adoringly, and you returned it with a gaze full of laughter and spark, two things that were necessary if you were going to ever be more than friends.  Maria knew the ingredients for a great match were already there, all that was needed was time and opportunity, and there would be plenty of both.

Until there wasn’t.

After graduating from high school, you both attended college in Boston;  Tony blowing shit up at M.I.T. and you diving head-first into your double-major at Boston College.  He was famous before he arrived, but after? He was a magnet for all things flashy, fun, illegal, and new.  He was surrounded wherever he went; inundated with phone numbers, obvious invitations to a variety of one-night stands, and so much debauchery and alcohol that the head of campus security told the president of MIT, who then called the big man, Howard.  After the browbeating, the only change in his behavior was an improved ability to slide under the radar and avoid trouble.  You only found out on the increasingly-rare occasion you texted each other.

You lived in separate apartments, attended different schools, pursued different fields of study.  It was natural that you wouldn’t see each other as you once did.  You shied away from the big loud crowds that were Tony’s new normal, and he couldn’t understand why you enjoyed spending quiet time with friends that weren’t him.  The waning friendship hurt both of you, in ways the other didn’t recognize.  Tony sought out the company of an unceasing string of one-night stands and you finally decided to open your heart to guys whose names weren’t always in the paper.  Life went on, with a little less spark, less laughter, less heart.  The holidays were fast approaching, and this time, they felt different; and not in a good way.

Thanksgiving break was a quick one, spent catching up with family and marshalling your energy to push through finals.  For the first time in your memory, you did not want to go to the Stark’s home for the traditional day-after-Thanksgiving dinner, where everybody brought a dish of leftovers, the Stark’s added liquor and pizza, and you caught up for hours.  You tried to get out of it, but it was non-negotiable, from your mother’s perspective.  You planned on staying away from Tony, kissing Maria and Howard, and coming home with claims of a headache.  After the party, the Moms talked and compared notes about how glum their children became at the mention of the other’s name.  They each took it upon themselves to plant seeds that would ignite the feelings they knew you had for one another.  

“Hey, Stark’s here for you.”  You were on your bed, hair up, pencil through the elastic, piles of books and your laptop spread out everywhere.  The sigh that escaped did not go unnoticed by the playboy who didn’t bother to wait for an invitation to enter your room.

“I heard that sigh and I resent it.  What? No confetti? No nudity?  What the hell?  When did you turn into a grown-up?”  You snorted, knowing this line of questioning was meant to either convince you to do something you didn’t want to, or to help assuage his guilt.  “I grace you with my presence on a Friday night and this is what I find? The old lady librarian look?”  It didn’t matter to him what you wore, anything you chose made his heart leap, but damned if he was going to let you know that.

Your glasses slipped off as you leaned forward, doubled over in laughter.  “Guess so, T.  There’s this thing most neurotypical humans do.  It’s called “studying,” it’s in every college handbook ever printed, and if I don’t do it, I’m not going to Oxford.”  Your undergraduate work had led you to your calling, Cognitive Neuroscience studies.  Your entire life’s goal was to gain admission to the Wellcome Trust Doctoral Training Program in Neuroscience at Oxford, which meant every grade counted, every test and paper was important.  You had no time to indulge in dinner out, let alone participate in the Unequivocally Unchecked Life of Tony Stark.

His facade fell, a bit, as he sat next to you and gently placed your glasses back on your nose.  You immediately pushed them up to avoid his eyes, and pulled loose papers out from under his exceptionally toned butt.  Not that you noticed.  “C’mon, it’s Friday night, when’s the last time you left this apartment to do something other than study? I told our moms I would check in on you.”

“Ahhhh, so that’s why you’re here, Moms Mandate.”  Your disappointment must have been evident, even to the oblivious Tony Stark.

“No.  I’m here because I didn’t get to see you over Thanksgiving and I miss hanging out with someone who doesn’t kiss my ass.  Though, if you wanted to kiss anything of mine, I would be more than open to that idea.”  Tony rarely seemed awkward, he covered it so well with bravado that it took a trained eye to realize that insecurity bubbled close to the surface.

You surprised yourself, and him, when you slowly leaned forward and, at the last minute, kissed his forehead.  His expression caused you to cry with laughter, again, as you hopped up and grabbed something to drink.  A surge of pride filled you; you had unsettled the unflappable Tony Stark.  “You can report back to the Moms that I am fine.  Working very hard, achieving excellent grades, exhibiting an appropriate level of safety, enjoying my friends, and unsullied by neither man nor woman.”  He sighed and dropped his head in disgust.

“That is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.  C’mon, you’re coming with me, you are going to experience Boston nightlife and actually live the college dream.”  He was clearly thrilled with the idea, but you put the brakes on his party train.  

“Thank you for taking on the role of social protectorate, but I can’t.  I am not going to engage with you about why and how, I just need you to trust that I cannot go out tonight.”  His skepticism didn’t make you waver one bit.  

“Ok, then tomorrow night, and I am not taking no for an answer.  You are going to get all dolled up and enjoy a breathtakingly irresponsible night on the town.  My treat.”  Your heart flipped at the invitation, but it didn’t stop you from speaking your mind.

“As enticing as that invitation is, I do not want to be an anonymous member of the Tony Stark entourage.  I can find my own fun, thanks.”  You stood and opened the door, picking up additional reference materials and returning your attention to the task at hand.  “Bye T, thanks for stopping by, say hi to your Mom for me.  Please tell her I can’t wait to see her and your Dad at Christmas.”  

Tony Stark was unaccustomed to being dismissed.  He knew that other than his mother, you were the only person that could do it and cause him to pause and re-evaluate his behavior.  As he left, he knew he had to prove to you that he was sincere, that he wanted to hang out with you, help you lighten up, and watch you enjoy yourself.  You gasped and looked at him as he gently encircled your waist and hugged you.

“I miss you.  I want to spend time with you.  Please.”  You froze in his arms, unable to process what was going on.

“Sure, T.  Text me tomorrow and let me know what’s up.  We can meet up somewhere, no problem.”  Little did you know that Tony had much more in mind than a simple dinner.

You awoke to a confusing text.

Tony: When you read this, please head to the campus library and ask for the head librarian.  She has something for you

You: Ummmmmm, ok?

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you were a tiny bit fluttery that Tony had taken the time to think about you to this degree.  You grabbed a bagel and your protein shake and headed over.  You knew the head librarian, Ms. Williams, very well and she smiled upon seeing you.

“One moment, dear.  I’ve got something for you.”

Follow this clue to the 8th floor.  You will find an old friend waiting in the Children’s Literature section, with your next objective. You complied, searching for the provided shelf number when you arrived at the 8th floor.

You laughed as The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh came into view, with a Pooh and honey pot bookmark stuck in the pages.  This book was a staple of your childhoods.  Your mothers gave each other copies, read the stories to you every night, and your favorite quote was under your senior picture in the high school yearbook.  Your excitement grew as you remembered how fun Tony could make the most mundane events.  You also wondered how the hell he had time to do all this between last night and this morning.

The bookmark was tucked into the page with the quote, and you smiled at his sweetness.  He knew how much it meant to you.  

 “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” 

Did you think I could forget these words? They mean as much to me as they do to you.  I wanted to remind you of how much you mean to me.  There’s a surprise waiting for you at your apartment, where you’ll find the next clue.

You practically sprinted back home, gasping when you saw a beautiful soft yellow dress hanging on your closet door, with an appointment card to a very expensive salon on Newbury Street.  You turned the card over and continued to smile - Tony had already paid for whatever you wanted done and had left a tip. He really could be thoughtful when he took the time.

It was early December, so you bundled up before heading out to your appointment.  When you left, you could not believe the transformation.  

You: Thanks Tony, I can’t believe you did all this.

Tony:  For you? Of course.  I’ll be by at 8pm.  Can’t wait to see you.

That felt different.  Your insides squished and squirmed - whether it was excitement or nerves, you weren’t sure.  You dressed, beautified, and waited.  

Tony: I hope you’re ready, beautiful.  On my way.

Geez, he was laying it on thick.  You laughed when he pulled up to your building in a regular old car he must have borrowed from someone’s father and jumped out to open your door.  You had no idea why he would not drive one of his ridiculously flashy fleet.  You were a huge Madonna fan in your younger years, and this struck you as the plot of her “Material Girl” video; was he trying to impress you by thinking he was just as “regular” as you were? Tony could never be described as “regular” or “average,” even if he didn’t have a dollar to his name.

Tony never really stopped.  He momentarily paused, he changed his focus, but his brain, his body, his mouth were always in high gear.  So when he got out of the car and saw you, it was a wholly different feeling.  He had never seen you look so beautiful - the dress wrapped within your white winter coat, your cheeks pink from the cold, your hair beautifully styled.  He hadn’t realized how long your hair had gotten and how much it changed your entire appearance.  

“You look stunning.  I did a very good job picking this out, didn’t I?” Now this was your best friend.  

“Yes, Tony, you did an amazing job.  I loved the clues, loved the book, loved everything.  It made me realize how much I missed you.”  You turned to him and asked him to stop.  “How much I missed the real Tony Stark.” His eyes closed as you softly kissed his cheek and let your hand land on his.

“C’mon, time for me to show you off and ply you with insanely expensive drinks.” He kept his promise.  The night was fun, like old times, but prettier and with alcohol.  You talked about everything and nothing, filling each other in, sharing your hurts and stories and plans, and reveling in each other’s company.  Neither of you wanted the night to end, so you invited him to your apartment for a nightcap.  You were shocked when he refused.

“No thanks, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Your eyes questioned and he saw the sting of rejection.  He looked at you, held your hands, and pecked your lips with his.  You stepped back, stunned. “You have no idea how much I want to, but I want to earn you, and I haven’t yet.”

“What does that mean? What are you trying to earn?”

“Someone I don’t deserve.  You.”  With another soft peck on the cheek, he was gone.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas break, you wondered if that night was a dream.  You and Tony awkwardly texted a bit, but didn’t see much of each other in the mad rush of finals.  After handing in your last project and dragging yourself to your apartment to make up as much lost sleep as possible, you were stunned out of your stupor by the sight of Tony waiting in front of your door. 

“You’re done, right?” His tired smile mirrored your own.

“Yes, thank the Lord in Heaven and every deity known to modern man.”  

“Good.  I wanted to show you something I’ve been working on.”  He stood and took out his phone, ready to press play when you put your hand over his.

“Tony can we go inside so I can sit down and maybe sleep for 2 days?”  He barely heard you, his nerves clearly a distraction, but he nodded and sat next to you, relaxing when you lay your head on his shoulder.

He apologized for leaving you hanging since your night out, for not paying enough attention to you, for not showing you how much you meant to him.  “My mom also slapped me once or twice to drive the point home that I’ve been a douchebag.  I’m sorry.”  He cued up the video on his phone and played it.  The introduction included the theme song to the “Winnie the Pooh” movie and cut to your favorite quote.  He took your silence for awe, then realized you were sleeping soundly.

As he tucked a blanket around you and kissed your forehead, he whispered, “You are the reason I am braver and stronger, and that’s because you’re smarter.  I hope you hear me because I can’t imagine saying it out loud again.”  You smiled to yourself as you snuggled under your covers and drifted off to sleep.

The End

[wyntertimes-blog]

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* Getting loose with Ivanka and Jay Kay

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* PLUS: Cock rings on the 6 O'Clock News

>> Strange times <<The poll winners' party

It probably won't surprise you to learn that champagne corks were popping at 10pm prompt at the Baby Shard on Thursday night, as the Times and the Sun celebrated the projected result of the exit poll.

It's also unlikely to surprise you to learn that Rupert Murdoch, Rebekah Brooks, Les Hinton and all the usual News UK suspects were there too, getting their fourth and fifth trolleys of booze brought in to the office by the time Blyth Valley announced.

The one thing that might surprise you though is that in among the revellers was... Cate Blanchett.This year's series of Love Island has taken three of the top ten spots in Ofcom's list of most complained-about shows of 2019.

>> Straight shooter <<Randy Andy makes 'em standy

It's been a bruising few weeks for Prince Andrew since his cataclysmic interview with Emily Maitlis – but he's probably brimming over with remorse and humility now, right?

Erm.

Earlier this month, Handsy Andy went on another of his (straightforward) shooting weekends. At breakfast one morning, everyone else in the party was sat quietly reading the papers when Andy came into the room.

As no-one stood up for him when he entered, he bellowed "OH HO HO! LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN, SHALL WE?" Then walked out of the room and re-entered, so that everyone could oblige him.There's a This Morning team WhatsApp group entitled "We Hate Phillip".

>> Big Questions <<Who's asking what this week?

What could have caused the Mail to pull a recent exclusive of theirs about a French masseuse meeting with Prince Andrew at Buckingham Palace back in 2000? The story made the paper's front page at the end of November but, save for a report of the Mail's report in the New York Post, there's no trace of it online now.If you subscribe to Popbitch, chances are your internet search history is something you'd rather was kept private. Protect yourself online (plus bypass digital censorship) by using a VPN. CyberGhost is currently offering Popbitch readers a 79% discount on its 18 month plan, which protects up to seven devices, for just £2.15 a month.

[Find out more here]

>> Westwood ho <<Getting loose with Ivanka

Before she became the accomplished businesswoman and occasional threat to global security that she is today, Ivanka Trump had teenage ambitions of becoming a fashion model.

Thanks to her family connections, she was seen for a number of jobs in the late 90s and became a bit of a favourite of Vivienne Westwood. Westwood's team used to make a point of letting the models pick the music they put on in the studio as a way of helping them to relax and feel comfortable on a shoot.

Ivanka's choice of music, every single time? Jamiroquai. Which she would then sing along to.

Peanut from the Kaiser Chiefs is preparing to run his 100th park run over the Christmas holidays.

>> Bah humbug <<More drama at the BBC

The BBC is going heavy on trailing their version of A Christmas Carol this year, making a big song and dance out of the fact it stars Guy Pearce, is written by Peaky Blinders' Steven Knight and has been exec produced by Tom Hardy. One person who's been a little left out in the cold though is director Nick Murphy.

Poor Nick was so miffed that the BBC didn't invite him to take part in a special Q&A event about the show that he ended up turning up anyway to rage at the head of BBC Drama there. His ire hasn't just been reserved for TV execs either as he's started taking pot shots at Tom Hardy on Twitter too, claiming that the catering department was more involved in production than Hardy.

There may be some lingering resentment there, as Hardy was set to star in A Christmas Carol (as well as produce) until he suddenly decided to bail out. But if you ask us, Nick, you had a lucky escape.

On set at Hardy and Knight's previous BBC1 collab, Taboo, crew members reported that Hardy wasn't shy about staying in character, stark-bollock naked, for much of the time. And we can only imagine what it would have been like trying to direct with the Ghost of Christmas Past's dick and balls wafting all around.

Nick Cave Watch: Everyone's favourite goth dad was spotted at an Elton John concert in Melbourne this week.

>> Picture this <<More corporate creepiness

One of Jeffrey Epstein's former employees claims that Epstein kept a 6ft portrait of his mysterious 'fixer' Ghislaine Maxwell above the pool in his sprawling New Mexico mansion. Not just any old portrait though. One of her naked and "posing provocatively".

He wouldn't be the first icky businessman to have had a life-size nudey portrait of a close associate on their wall though. West Ham's porn-purveying chairman, David Sullivan, was once well known in the football world for having a huge painting hung in his basement office.

Of his now Vice-Chairman at West Ham FC, Dame Karren Brady.Andy Coulson has been advised by friends that having his own name in his new PR firm (Coulson Partners) is enough to stop most major organisations from hiring them. So far it's advice that he (and his ego) seem unwilling to take.

>> Shaky casting <<Merry Christmas everyone!

This year's bleak seasonal murder drama, Responsible Child (based on the real life story of a 14 year-old killer who was tried as an adult and jailed) has been getting rave reviews.

Whether it was the shocking nature of the story, or the impressive performance of the child actor who inhabited the role, we couldn't tell you, but for some reason most of the reviews have failed to mention the most important thing about the production.

The kid who plays the murderer is the grandson of Shakin' Stevens.

This week's Media Masters podcast is a chat with historian and broadcaster David Starkey. His outspoken, unforgiving style and trenchant opinions have earned him a reputation as being "the rudest man in Britain". In this in-depth interview he explains the impact it's had over his career.

[Listen/Download on Media Masters]

>> One love <<The race for Xmas No.1

Now that The X Factor is an utterly spent force, and December streaming is dominated by seasonal classics, the annual race for Christmas No.1 has become a much more unpredictable beast.

Re-releases are subjected to permanent ACR restrictions ('Accelerated Chart Ratio') with streaming, which basically means that old, established classics have to generate twice the number of streams as new tracks in order to compete. (Without this, three of the top four last Friday would have been Mariah Carey, Wham! and The Pogues.)

So who's in the running this year? There's another tedious song about sausage rolls from Ladbaby (hideous; but for a good cause). There's the inevitable Ed Sheeran (this year on Stormzy's record). And of course, there's the now traditional Facebook campaign choice.

Facebook campaigns are a bit of a lost cause but it has to be said: of all the songs that the British public could have picked to champion this year, Jarvis Cocker's "(Cunts Are Still) Running The World", is a pretty good one.

[Join the campaign]

REO Speedwagon's original of Can't Fight This Feeling has been streamed more than Bastille's John Lewis ad cover since its release in mid-November.

>> Electile dysfunction <<Another cock up on the Beeb

On election day, there are very strict rules in the UK which forbid news organisations from discussing politics until polling is closed. Which means that news teams have to ignore the biggest story of the day and compile their news bulletins from whatever innocuous filler they can drum up instead.

As part of their non-political Six O'Clock News broadcast last Thursday, BBC1 chose to air an item about the postal service and people sending tiny items in oversized parcels. Alas, it seems there was a very good reason that the Six O'Clock News hadn't touched that story previously.

One of the parcels that was prominently displayed as part of the pre-watershed segment clearly showed a cock ring.Nominative Determinism of the Week: The Senior doorkeeper of the House of Commons... Phil Howse!

>> 2019: The Annual <<A last little gift from us

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>> Hmmms <<Cats, dogs, Muppets

Rowan Atkinson deepfaked Dior advert

[Ready to lose your libido?]

The reviews of Cats are restoring our faith and trust in journalism

[Read on Prospect]

Picture of dogs in mid-air, catching frisbees

[Cute: what more do you want?]

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What do you get for the man who has everything?

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40 years since the Muppets/John Denver Christmas special

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A crash course in the 100 most memorable memes of the decade

[Read on BuzzFeed]

The real life, bricks-and-mortar Popbitch Popquiz will return in January. Don't let dry January stop you having any fun. Join us at Smiths of Smithfield for another seven rounds of trivia, music and smut with our host, Tom Webb!

[Tuesday 14th January]

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[danni-whatshername]

cut your teeth // chapter 1

It’s said that everyone in Starklake knows a missing person. For the last decade, the small town has been plagued by disappearances and sparked its own satanic panic. Through the combined efforts of the police and tourism departments the general public is none the wiser. In fact, the nearby beach is perfect for bonfires and camp outs...

Chapter 1 Almost two years after that fateful homecoming night, the survivors of the Westchester attack come together for their first annual camping trip.

Word Count: 2.1k

Note: The leaves emoji links to accompanying Choices music. I decided to use 2nd person POV to simulate the experience of playing the app in a sense. I’d love constructive feedback and any comments! Strap yourselves in for a wild ride of a mystery.

Tags (For this first chapter I’m basically considering this a thank you/dedication for good pals! 💝): @brightpinkpeppercorn @strangerofbraidwood @jesusofnazario @itlivesinthegays @lady-kato

[  🍃🍃🍃]

It starts the same way every time. Somewhere deep down you know it’s not real, but you don’t have a chance to stop it. You feel as though you’ve been walking for miles. Every step sends a dull ache up your legs, but there’s nowhere to stop and rest. Besides that, you’ve felt it coming closer and closer the whole time. You heard from one of your professors that the reason cavemen survived was their sheer ability to endure the hunt. Where wild beasts tired after a sprint, humans could track for hours. Which is how you know what follows must be human—a beast would have taken you out long ago.

Tall pines surround you and every step feels agonizingly slow and heavy. You finally consider just collapsing onto the ground when you hear it. Telltale whispers that feel as though they’re coming from all directions at once. They are growing louder and louder despite your efforts to escape them. The edges of your vision grow dark as a shadow begins to envelop you. You feel a sharp blow to the side of your head—

[ 🍃🍃🍃]

“Whoa!”

Your eyes jolt open as a hard smack against the car window shakes you from your nightmare.

“Sorry. The potholes here are crazy,” Andy says and casts a worried glance at you. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Ouch,” you say as you rub the already growing bump on the side of your head.

Andy’s focus is back on the road as he attempts to avoid any more potholes. The road stretches on for miles ahead and is flanked by tall pines. Unlike the ones in your dream, the morning sun makes these look almost friendly.

“I know what’ll make you feel better,” he says.

“A kiss?” you tease as the fog of your nap wears off.

“I was gonna say picking up some snacks at the gas station, but if you insist on a kiss…”

“Oh I definitely do,” you say as you lean over.

“I could go for some snacks,” Tom pipes up from the backseat.

“Ah!” you jump in your seat, “I totally forgot you were riding with us,” you turn to look back at Tom who has the whole backseat to himself.

“Oof. Straight shot to the ego,” Tom winces and cutches his chest.

“Hey! You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t worry about it, Katya.,” he laughs, “I’m just stoked you guys decided to invite me to your camping trip.”

“What? C’mon, man. Of course we’d invite you,” Andy grins at Tom through the rearview mirror.

“And it’s not just a camping trip. It’s the first annual Westchester Badass Club camping trip.” You turn back to Tom and make jazz hands.

“Please tell me you don’t actually call yourselves that.”

“I named our group chat that, so it’s basically the same thing,” you nod resolutely.

“I’m just excited to see everyone again. Everyone’s out doing their own thing now, so other than you two I barely see anyone.” Andy frowns and you notice him drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to coordinate eight people’s schedules after you graduate high school.” You groan and feel the bump on your head throb just from remembering the constant rescheduling, following up, and organizing it took to even make one trip happen. Now with Andy finally graduated from his senior year, a summer camping trip sounded like the perfect activity to bring everyone together. Luckily group chats and Pictstagram made keeping in touch with everyone a lot easier.

“The last time we were all really together was at the memorial,” Andy says.

“Gosh, that’s coming up again soon too,” you frown and think back to the nightmare you had earlier.

“It’s in a few months. Do you think you’ll give another speech?” Tom asks.

“I hope not. There’s not much left to say. At least as far as the rest of Westchester is concerned.” You shift uncomfortably at the memory of your nightmare and the similarities it shared with the events that had taken place. “Anyways… this campground seemed nice online. Bonus points for being close enough to town that we won’t be totally screwed once we realize we forgot to bring something important.” You change the subject and hope it’ll stick.

“So… how much longer ’til we get there?”

You pick your phone up out of the cupholder and pull up the GPS app.

“Five hours.”

Tom whistles and leans back into his seat.

“Geez. Guess I’ll make myself comfy back here then."

“Are you gonna be okay driving so long?” you ask Andy. Your gaze naturally drifts over to his left leg. Despite Andy’s assurances to everyone (including the college recruiters) that his leg was doing better, you know enough to see that he still has his bad days.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Andy teases, “I’m doing fine. Really. Besides, what’s the point of getting a car if I’m not gonna take it out for a road trip or two?” he pats the dashboard.

“Alright. But if you need a break let us know.” You point between Tom and yourself.

“Seriously, dude. And we promise we won’t crash it or anything.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m going Dukes of Hazard on it the moment I get on the wheel.”

The next stretch of road is punctuated by singing along to old school hip hop (‘Can they even say that on the radio?!’), games of I Spy (‘Ok… I spy something green.’), and debates on the finer points of who really controls the music on a road trip (‘I have girlfriend and front seat privileges.’ ‘Oh yeah? Well I have seniority in how long I’ve been friends with the driver.’ ‘Neither of you has good taste in music.’).

———

Some time after crossing the Oregon-California border you decide to make your final stop.

Apart from the gas station and a tire shop, there isn’t much to see. The woods are far sparser and you swear you can smell the sea, but it’s definitely just in your head.

The three of you pile out of the car and stretch your legs. You swipe your card at the pump to pay and Tom heads into the gas station to pick up some final snacks.

As the number on the pump’s display slowly creep up you realize Andy hasn’t said anything yet. You turn to see him leaning against the hood and experimentally kicking his leg in and out. He stops when he notices you watching.

“Hey.” He grins innocently.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” you cross your arms, “You should have said something earlier if you weren’t feeling good.”

You’ve gone through the same conversation at least a dozen times before.

“I know, but if I can’t make it through one road trip…”

“Andy, you need to stop making up these arbitrary rules for yourself.” The two of you pause for a moment in awkward silence before you speak. You clear your throat and drop your voice to a comically low baritone. “Alright, Kang. I’m benching you for the rest of this car trip. You’re riding in the passenger seat ’til we get to the beach.”

The two of you break out into laughter.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“You mean you aren’t impressed with my vast knowledge of sports lingo?”

“If I close my eyes it’s like I’m really on the court.”

You finish filling up the car and settle into the driver’s seat. Not long after, Tom finally emerges from the gas station. His pace is hurried and when he finally gets in you notice his worried expression.

“Hey. You alright, man?” Andy leans his seat back and looks over to Tom.

“Yeah. The attendant just said some weird stuff after I mentioned where we were going,” he says.

“Gas station employees are either really cool or total weirdos. I wouldn’t worry about it,” you reassure him as you pull out and back onto the road.

“Spoken like a true horror movie victim, Katya,” Andy says.

“Shut up!” You laugh and playfully punch him on the arm. “I refuse to be a cheesy teen movie. I read Google reviews for this place. If a bunch of old white people say it’s fine, it’s fine.”

Your banter seems to ease the mood and the conversation slips back into something more lighthearted as you finish up the last leg of your trip.

———

[ 🍃🍃🍃]

The scenery begins to change the closer you get to the beach. The tall, dark pine forest is pushed further back and what trees do line the road are short and sparse You drive by the fork in the road that leads to the nearby town of Starklake. Even outside of the town proper you drive by a few homes and small businesses. A small brown sign points you in the direction of the campgrounds.

“We’re here!”

You pull into a small gravel parking lot and hop out to stretch your legs. Surprisingly, only a couple other cars are present. You figured that a beach campground would be absolutely swarmed during the summer which was why you had been so insistent about leaving early in the morning. The almost stranded lot proved that to be a wasted effort.

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

You recognize her voice before you even turn around.

“Ava!” you shout and have to hold yourself back from running over and hugging her. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Almost an hour. We were lucky to find a spot with how busy it was,” she waves a hand at the almost deserted parking lot.

“Ok, so I may have overestimated how packed it’d be. Can you blame me?” you say, grabbing your bags from the trunk.

“Oh don’t worry. We’ve already decided you’re in charge of setting up camp,” she says and grins.

“Suddenly I’m regretting my decision to ride with you,” Tom jokes before giving Ava a short wave. She nods in return.

“Don’t worry. I know the secret to setting a camp up real quick,” Andy says and slams the trunk closed.

“Pitching the idea that camping under the stars is the hottest summer trend?” you offer.

“No, but that can always be Plan B.”

“If you’re done trying to worm your way out of the work I’ll show you where everyone else is,” Ava says and begins to walk ahead without waiting for a response.

“You know it’s been too long when I actually miss Ava’s attitude,” Andy says.

The three of you scramble to keep up with her on the way to everyone else.

Your campsite ends up being about a fifteen minute walk from the parking lot, but the landscape of the beach makes it feel far more secluded. A rocky peninsula juts out to the right and encloses the campsite in its own little space. While the water isn’t crystal clear (or even particularly inviting) just being by the ocean invigorates you. Up ahead you see familiar figures standing by a small mountain of bags and camping gear.

“Hey guys!”

“Lily!” You break out into a run, but the sand slows you down and instead you amble on over to the group with all the grace of a giraffe. You almost knock her over with the force of your hug when you finally reach her.

“Whoa!” she yelps, trying to steady herself.

“Sorry. I just missed you.”

“You’re so lucky we missed you too or you’d need to do a lot more than set up our tents for making us wait so long,” Stacy says and pulls you into a hug.

“Don’t worry. Ava already chewed us out about it,” Andy says after he and Tom drop your cooler and bags off with everyone else’s.

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Dan says and bumps a volleyball over to Andy.

“Dan’s right. There’s actually some really interesting examples of the growing erosion problem on the beach here,” Lucas says and points out certain spots of the shore.

“Oh my god. Somehow your nerdy Picstagram posts pale in comparison to the live action Lucas,” you say.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says and pulls you into a side hug. “It’s great to see you all again.”

“Same here. I’m psyched we all get to hang out again before I start school,” Andy says while bouncing the volleyball between Tom, Dan, and himself.

“Let the first annual Westchester Badass Club camping trip begin!” you exclaim to a chorus of groans.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

End of Chapter 1

Chapter 2: With the camping trip in full swing will everything go on without a hitch?

[instakpop]

Chanyeol scenario - Infamous

Requested by @hereforkpopboys

genre: frat!au, smut, angst

Summary: You and Chanyeol fell madly in love in high school, but things changed the second he stepped foot on a college campus. He joined a frat, worked out all the time and left you behind. He went from being your adorkable boyfriend to the one who got away. Or so you thought.

The worst part about going to college with your high school sweetheart, it’s getting dumped by him! Everyone knew you and Chanyeol would make it. You two were voted most likely to get married and yet, things changed. The moment he joined a fraternity, his sweet innocent personality was overshadowed by an egotistical jerk. He stopped calling you by your name and just called you 'babe', when you two were out together, he'd practically have his hand glued to your ass, and by the time you two were nearing the end, he rarely called anymore.

It took just one year in college to ruin four years of love and commitment. It was like you didn't exist to him anymore. Over the next two years, you both started seeing other people, but no one could ever add up to the boy you fell in love back in high school. You'd spot Chanyeol around campus with some other girl on his arm, but he never once looked back at you. He started to get a new reputation and a new type. He'd have sorority girls fawning all over him, and legend had it any girl who slept with him became chapter president, so who could turn him down?

Senior year quickly approached and your love life was a complete joke. Every guy you met couldn't compare to your Chanyeol, but he was long gone. You made a few friends in the greek life, which opened the door for you to join one of the most respected sororities on campus, best of all, none of them could stand Park Chanyeol. It was deeply refreshing since you couldn't stand the person he's become either.

The weekend before school started, all the fraternities and sororities all got together for a Saturday night social. You were excited to see your friends all in one place, but you had to plan strategically to not see Chanyeol. You know if you caught him with yet another girl, your heart would shatter like glass, yet again.

You arrived with your sorority sisters and took a lap around to say "Hi" to everyone you knew. After the first hour, your group dispersed and you were challenged by a few friends for a game of darts. Everything was going perfectly, you were having fun, meeting new people and all was well. You won the game, winning a goodie-bag from the host.

"Nice shot, babe." A voice said from behind.

You froze like a statue, your expression fell flat and your eyes narrowed. It was him. You looked behind you to see the dimpled devil leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips.

"Seriously?" you replied. The crowd left to the next activity, leaving you two alone.

"What?" He said, shrugging.

"Two years, of treating me like a ghost and now you're gonna talk to me." I turned to face him, placing my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on babe-"

"Stop calling me that! My name is Y/n!"

"Chill out. I know that. I was just paying you a compliment." He raised his hands in surrender, making you roll your eyes and walk away. Before you got too far, Chanyeol grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him. "How about one more game."

"Pass." You snatched your hand away and crossed your arms.

"Please? We can make it interesting."

"How so?" you had to admit, you were a little curious.

"If I win... I get to kiss you." He took a step forward, changing the atmosphere and softening the tone.

"And if I win?"

"Then you get to kiss me." He smirked. You huffed at him and walked off. Instead of grabbing your hand again, he took a hold of your waist, turning me around and holding you against him. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest, leaving your knees weak and your lips quiver.

"Why would I ever kiss you?" You asked.

"Old times sake." Wrong answer. You pushed him off of you, returning to your aggravated state.

"You don't get it, do you? I don't want to kiss you for old times sake because... B-because..." You quickly looked to the floor, trying not to let him see you cry. Everyone knows "old times sake" means it's really over, with no chance of making up. It was the last goodbye

"Because of what? Y/n?" He tried to get you to look at him, but you couldn't.

"Sorry, this was a mistake." You tried to subtly wipe your tears and walk away. For the second time, Chanyeol reached out to grab you but you were too fast. You burst out of the party, taking a deep breath of fresh air and walking back to your sorority house.

"Y/n! Wait up!" You could hear Chanyeol chasing after you, but you just kept your pace, fully aware that he'd catch up to you. And sure enough, he ran in front of you, blocking you from going any further. "What'd I do?"

"WHAT DIDNT YOU DO?!" you screamed. Every ounce of anger and heartache erupted at that moment. "YOU DUMPED ME AFTER MONTHS OF SILENCE! YOU'VE SLEPT WITH EVERY STUPID SORORITY GIRL WHO CROSSED YOUR PATH AND NOW YOU WANT TO KISS ME FOR 'OLD TIMES SAKE'?! WHAT IS THAT?!"  You took a pause to collect yourself and calm down a bit. "You broke me Chanyeol. I just met all these people within the last few months. When you left me... I had no one."

Each word hit him like a rock. His whole attitude changed. His dark ego filled eyes changed into the big puppy-dog look you adored so much, but he wasn't happy, you could see the tears build up and fall. You made the infamous Park Chanyeol cry. He took a few steps forward, reaching his arms out and lifting you up for a tight hug. You reached your arms up out of habit but stopped yourself. How do you know this is real?

"I'm so sorry..." He whispered into your neck. It was enough to make you cry too. The hot tears streamed down your face and you finally gave in, needing a hug.

Chanyeol brought his head up, cupping your cheeks and crashing your lips together. You pressed your hands to his chest, pushing him back a little. The spark was still there, but at this point, you can't handle it.

"I can't..." You admitted quietly.

Chanyeol nodded and stepped back. "Can I at least walk you home?" He asked.

"That’s fine."

He placed his hands into his pockets to show he'd be respectful and you walked side by side. You didn' say anything, mainly because everything you had to say has already been screamed for the whole neighborhood to hear. You reached the front of the house and turned to face Chanyeol.

"thanks for walking me back." You said, holding your keys in your hand.

"Yeah. No problem." You were about to walk away when you noticed him opening his mouth to add something. "Uh... Can we talk? It doesn't feel right to just leave you like this."

"Okay. To be honest, I don't want to be alone right now anyway." You walked to the front door, unlocking it and went upstairs to your room with Chanyeol following behind. You both sat on your bed, unsure of where to start until he spoke first.

"Y/n, I never meant to hurt you like this. I just got so caught up and we got distant-"

"You did. You got distant." you corrected.

"...I got distant, and I thought it'd just be easier for both of us to end it."

"Chanyeol, I loved you for four years and then everything changed when we got here. The day you broke up with me you said 'we aren't in high school anymore'. You said it as if we were grown-ups, but I don't know anyone who just ignores the person they love because some frat boys have other plans. Half of those guys are in relationships and I know for a fact that they wouldn't do what you did to me." Chanyeol lowered his head while you spoke. You knew he was shameful but you still weren't sure if you can trust him again.

"I was wrong. I can tell you that every day for the next year, but it clearly won't solve anything. I admit, I ignored you and that was stupid, but I was all new to this and everything happened so fast after we broke up."

"Not for me. My entire social life came to a standstill because I didn't want anyone but you. For some insane reason, I thought you'd come to your senses and come back to me, but that day never came. ANd it never will."

"Don't say that."

"Yes, I will say that because it's true!"

"No, it isn't!" Chanyeol's face started to turn red, but I wasn't afraid.

"So what then? Your saying I have to wait a little longer? What do you want from me?"

"I want my old life back. With you." There it was. A genuine response. He got off the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "You may not believe me when I tell you this, or think I'm a jerk, but I do still love you."

"then why didn't you come to me and say that?"

"Why didn't you?" He shot back. "We both had issues to settle and damage to fix. I felt as empty as you did, Y/n. I came so close to crawling back to you several times, but I couldn't."

"Because you had a new reputation." You shook your head in frustration. His pride took over and consumed him.

"Yeah. I know it's pathetic. But I don't want that anymore. When I saw you earlier, I saw the same look in your eyes when we'd go out with our friends, except I wasn't able to leave with you. A least not in the usual way."

His little comment brought a smile to your face. For the first time in a long time, you were having fun again. Just like during your relationship, you'd go out on dates, have a good time and then he'd take you back home, followed by a goodnight kiss. You missed his kisses. You missed the way he'd hold you and make you feel safe by his side.

You looked up at him with his arms crossing his chest. You didn't notice it before, mostly because you were an angry mess, but he's gotten bigger. His arms looked so powerful, his shoulders looked so broad and his chest had so much definition. Chanyeol caught your stare and frowned his brows, confused as to why you were looking at him with such focus. You wanted him. You could feel your anger melting into an intense lust.

Chanyeol remained still as you rose from the bed, walking slowly toward him. You reached up, uncrossing his arms, resting them on your waist. You closed your eyes, letting your lust take over. His big hands opened up on the small of your back, bringing you closer to him. You moved your hands up his toned chest, up his long neck and landing on his soft cheeks. Your thumb grazed over his warm lips as he leaned down for a deep kiss.

"Mmm~" You moaned. The little spark you felt grew into a full firework show.

Chanyeol's hand pressed to your upper back, pushing your breasts against his chest. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your hands tangled in his thick locks. His grasp moved down to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You gently grinded your hips together, creating a little friction before he laid you out on the bed. He climbed above you, but you grabbed his shoulders, turning him over onto his back and mounting his hips.

You reached down, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off. His rock hard cock sprang out of his underwear, ghosting over your clothed center. Chanyeol lifted your skirt, sliding your panties to the side and rubbing his thumb against your swollen clit. You released a relaxed sigh, giving in to his sensuous touch. All the times you tried to move on or replace him couldn’t have ever worked. Nothing you've felt in the last two years from any other man can make you feel a fraction of the way you felt with his heavenly hands working their magic.

He removed his hands just long enough to take his top off. You did the same, tossing your shirt with the rest of the clothes on the floor. You came down, kissing his lips once more, feeling his soft tongue invade your mouth. You wiggled out of your skirt and panties before breaking the kiss and gradually sinking down on his erection. Your mouth fell open as he stretched you out just right. His hands squeezed your hips, moving you up and down.

"Chanyeol... Oh, god yes~" You planted your hands on his hard chest, bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Chanyeol moved his hand from your hip to your upper back, pulling you down to suck and kiss your bare breasts. He switched back and forth, paying equal attention to each one. His teeth lightly scraped against your nipple with a low growl as you clenched your walls around him.

"I'm so close." You said, losing your breath.

"Cum for me."

Your orgasm hit instantly, pulsing through your body, making goosebumps appear on every inch of your skin. Chanyeol came deep inside you, calling out your name. His grip was so tight, they'd leave marks on your skin for sure. But you couldn't care less, you finally got what you've been needing for two years.

Chanyeol pulled you on top of him, resting your head on his chest while you cooled down. He brought you both up to the head of the bed to lay down properly. His fingers combed through your hair as if everything from the past two years never even happened, but you still had to address it.

"What do we do know?" You asked him.

"I know things will never be exactly the same, but I'm willing to try again." His honesty warmed your heart. You looked up at him with a smile.

"So no more sorority girls?"

"Nope. No more sorority girls... except you." He said before kissing your forehead.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: Elementary, My Dear Maki-chan

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.7k Rating: G Time Frame: Later in Maki’s 1st and Nico’s 3rd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

List of all HtHaN scenes

Author’s Note: The first scene, of what will likely be several, inspired by the detective theme of the 36th Score Match in LLSIF, featuring NicoMaki.

Maki gave herself another glance in the changing room mirror. The earthy and brown tones were not as cutesy as most of the other outfits she had worn today, but instead gave off a more formal feel. The stripes on the waistcoat and notch lapels of her jacket looked sharp, or… what was the word Nico had used for the other outfit? Dashing? Also, the darker colors made the red ribbon stand out that much more. The same held true for her hair with the brown hat, which she now donned.

She smiled at her reflection and the full effect of the complete costume. It was supposed to be a detective theme and it was definitely working. Maki felt like she should be running around Victorian London, chasing criminals and seeking clues to solve a mystery. Kotori and the photography company did good work, as always.

Still smiling, Maki left the dressing room and turned down the hallway. She immediately stopped when she noticed someone leaning against the wall.

“Nico-chan?” The first-year inquired.

“Tut tut.” The third-year shook her head. “That’s Nicolock to you.”

“What was that?”

Nico produced what looked like an old-fashioned pipe. “Nicolock Holmes.” She said before putting the end in her mouth. She then blew into the pipe, which released a barrage of bubbles into the air. “No. 1 Detective in the Universe.”

“Sherlock?”

“Nicolock.” The older girl corrected again. “And you must be Makey Watsikino.”

“Watsi… wha?”

“Watsikino.”

“I don’t get it…”

Nico giggled before blowing more bubbles.

Maki shook her head before inspecting the other girl’s costume. The pipe certainly fit with what she knew of Doyle’s character, as did the ulster coat and deerstalker hat. The pink ribbon securing the flaps added a distinctly Nico-nii-esque flare… geez, did she really think of it that way? Anyway, the braids, while having nothing to do with Sherlock or detectives or whatever… Maki couldn’t deny that they were quite cute. Then there was the ego; Nico definitely shared the famed detective’s ego. However, there was one thing that seemed lacking…

“So… why are you Holmes and I’m Watson?” Maki asked.

“<Elementary, my dear Maki-chan.>” Nico stated in English, with her best attempt at a British accent.

Well, that certainly sounded like something Sherlock might say… Still…

“Is it?”

“Of course! Nico is the No. 1 Idol in the Universe, so it only makes sense that she would play the part of the No. 1 Detective in the Universe.”

“Hrm…”

“Hey…” Nico’s eyes narrowed. “Is Maki trying to imply that Nico isn’t smart enough to be Sherlock?”

“Wha?” Maki balked. “No!”

In truth, Maki had actually been wondering about Nico’s deductive reasoning skills, not her intelligence… wait… that kind of had a bit to do with intelligence. But also observation! Nico was capable of being quite perceptive, when she needed to be. And in that light, the same held true for intelligence. She wasn’t an idiot, even if she often acted like one.

“Uhm…” Maki found herself unable to give voice to her thoughts in the face of Nico’s scrutiny.

“Nico would make a fine detective.” Nico declared after a moment. “I’ll prove it! Feed me and I’ll grow, but water me and I’ll die. What am I?”

Maki racked her brain for a moment. She knew she had read the answer to that at some point. So why couldn’t she think of it now?

“When you need me, you throw me away.” Nico continued. “But when you’re done with me, you bring me back. What am I?”

“Wait, you didn’t give me time to answer the first one!”

“There’s a one-story house where everything inside is pink: …”

“Nico-chan owns a house?”

Nico pursed her lips. “Pink walls, pink doors, pink floors, pink ceilings, pink windows, pink curtains, pink chairs and pink tables. What color are the stairs?”

“Those are just riddles, Nico-chan.” Maki said before the other girl started another one. “You just read them in a book somewhere.”

“Isn’t reading how Maki-chan gets a lot of her intelligence?”

“I… uhm…” Maki found she couldn’t refute that.

“And detective stories often have riddles in them.”

“… I suppose.”

“And isn’t there a villain that is always spouting off riddles and such?”

“… Not in Sir Author Conan Doyle’s work… I think?”

“Well, one of them had to have had at least one riddle.”

“I remember a code made with men holding flags or something. Maybe that counts?”

“Ah, Holmes and Watson!” A voice came from behind Maki. “I love it.”

“Hey, Nozomi.” Nico greeted.

Maki turned to see Nozomi and Kotori dressed in military themed outfits similar to the one Maki had worn a little while ago.

“Good choices, Kotori-chan.” The purple-haired girl continued.

“I had a lot of fun researching ideas for this set.” The ash-haired girl replied.

“Maki-chan wants to know why the adorable Nico-nii is the playing the part of the illustrious Sherlock.” The raven-haired girl said. “She doesn’t think Nico is smart enough.”

“That’s not it!” The redhead protested.

Nico stuck out her tongue.

“Actually, I decided to have Maki-chan be Watson first.” Kotori explained. “Because Watson was a doctor.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Nico nodded. “Maki-chan is going to be the No. 1 Doctor in the Universe after all.”

Maki raised an eyebrow but wasn’t sure what to say in response.

“So Nico is Sherlock because…” Nico prodded.

“Because Watson is often the straight man to Holmes’ eccentricities?” Nozomi suggested.

“Well…” Kotori fidgeted with a part of her costume. “I stumbled across some fics during my research…”

“Fics?” Nico questioned.

Nozomi snickered. “Seems like Kotori-chan thought if Watson was with Holmes, then Maki-chan should be with Nicocchi.”

“Of cour…” Nico cut off. “Wait, just what kind of fics were you reading Kotori?”

“Oh, that’s the photographer calling.” Kotori looked past the other girls before scurrying off.

“I don’t get it.” Maki spoke up. “Does she think Nico-chan and I would be good at solving crimes together or something?”

Nozomi laughed. “No, Maki-chan, she…”

Nico growled in warning.

“Anyway,” Nozomi shifted gears “Nicocchi’s voice also sounds kind of like one of the girls from that detective anime that came out a few years ago…” She paused in thought for a moment. “But wasn’t that character based off a different detective…? Nero…?”

“Nero Wolfe?” Maki suggested.

“Yes, that one.”

“No, that won’t do.” Nico shook her head. “If Maki-chan is Watson, then Nico is Sherlock. That much is obv… <It’s elementary.>” She corrected by repeating her earlier phrase.

“Well…” Nozomi smiled. “I suppose there are a few mysteries when it comes to you two.”

“There’s no mystery!” Nico suddenly grinned. “Maki-chan is the best partner for Nico-nii!” She turned and glomped onto her junior.

“Buweeh?!” Maki uttered.

“It’s a brilliant solution!”

Nozomi laughed before turning as though hearing something. “Oh, that really was the photographer…” She said before wandering off to join Kotori.

“And we have our own shoot to make.” Nico said, letting go of the younger girl. “<Come, Maki-chan, the game is afoot!>”

“A-alright…” Maki replied.

As her senior took her hand and began to lead her down the hall, Maki found herself thinking. Who was right, Nico or Nozomi? Was there a mystery or a brilliant solution? Certainly, there were many things that Maki thought about when it came to her time and interactions with Nico. But… what was that line Doyle had Sherlock use? Something about impossible and truth and improbable…

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. That was the one. And the truth was that Maki enjoyed her time with Nico, despite, or perhaps sometimes because of their silly spats. Despite, and again perhaps sometimes because of Nico’s bratty behavior. The Maki of just a few months ago might have thought such a situation was impossible, and even now, Maki often considered it improbable. But truth it was all the same.

Maki felt the pang of something that was slowly becoming familiar as Nico let go of her hand when the two reached the set. However, it was quickly replaced with a different, warmer sensation as she watched Nico cheerfully greet the photographer and assistant. Nico was in her element and Maki couldn’t help being fascinated by watching her.

A smile came to Maki’s lips in response to the broad one being displayed by the older girl. When Nico’s smile was genuine, as it was now, it was contagious. She wasn’t forcing her smile through her idol persona. Well, she had just done her Nico-nii thing, but that was practically a ubiquitous gesture for pretty much every situation. But it was obvious Nico was honestly thrilled to be in the photoshoot. And maybe, perhaps, she was actually happy to be paired with Maki for this part, and not just faking it to get a reaction.

Maki watched as Nico enthusiastically obeyed the instructions from the photographer for a specific pose. She then suggested her own, which was accepted and shot. This was one of the sides of Nico that Maki admired. The Nico who put forth an honest effort to be the idol she dreamed of being. The Nico with no fear or embarrassment in front of the camera. The Nico who cute just by being herself.

Maybe… just as Watson found something he admired and respected in Holmes, so too had Maki found something in Nico. Just as Watson put up with the eccentricities of Holmes, so too did Maki deal with Nico’s. Just as Watson followed Holmes on his adventures, so too did Maki often follow Nico. And just as Watson was the best partner for Holmes… perhaps… just maybe… Maki really was the best partner for Nico?

Nico-chan’s partner… That… wasn’t a completely unappealing concept…

“Maki-chan!”

“Huh?” Maki blinked back to reality.

“Your turn!” Nico skipped over. “Hey, once you’ve taken a few, we should do a couple together!”

“I thought we were all basically separate for this set?”

“Well, yeah, for the magazine, sure.” Nico shrugged. “But we should take a few for fun as well! Watson and Holmes make a good pair and so do we! We definitely need to have a picture together!”

“Alright, alright.” Maki replied, moving in front of the green screen.

Maki smiled and posed as the photographer instructed. However, her smile grew when, after a dozen shots or so, Nico jumped in and grabbed her arm. At least for today, she knew she was happy to play Watson to Nico’s Holmes.

Author’s Note Continued: By the gods, I love these costumes. I can’t wait to add them to my teams, see their pop-ups, listen to their home screen quotes and read their side stories.

As mentioned above, I’d like to write another scene or two that includes these costumes or references them in some way. And thanks to a convo with myonmukyuu concerning an adorable piece she posted recently, I have a pretty good idea of what I want to do with the next scene.

Also, at least for now, I am presenting both Nico and Maki as not being incredibly familiar with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s works. Maki may have read a mystery or two of his for a class and either may have seen a Sherlock movie. They know some quotes and general themes, but I don’t currently headcanon either as being mystery buffs.

This headcanon may change should I come across anime-canon-compliant material that says one or both does like Sherlock and/or mysteries. Maybe such a detail will be revealed in the side stories for these cards. If anyone playing the JP version is willing to fill me in early, before these cards hit WW, I’d be quite grateful. And in the light of such information, I may decided to come back and retcon a few things in this scene.

In the meantime, I’m probably going to keep putting off the scene for their new UR pair so I can write another scene for this set.

Edit: I’m not entirely sure where exactly I want this in the timeline. Thus, for now I’m just putting it after Pool Cleaning, such that it might be a continuation of that photohshoot. Not the same day, but maybe that particular photoshoot could end up being a multi-day event? That could open the door to some other ideas and scenes I could add later.

Cards Referenced:

[oldbutnotyetwise]

Buddy the Rescue Dog

   It was about five years ago that I was feeling that it was time to get a dog again.  My last three dogs had been purebred German Shepherds and I decided it was time to try something different.  I started following some dog rescue groups and expressed interest in a few of their dogs.  Then one of the rescues contacted me and said although the dog I had expressed interest in was spoken for, they had another dog they thought I should consider.  In August of 2014 the foster parents brought over “Sunny” who was an older lab/chow cross, they assured me that he was a great dog and it was agreed that I would adopt him.  I couldn’t see myself calling my dog Sunny, so after much thought trying to come up with a name that sounded similar, Sunny became Buddy.

    Buddy had come from northern Quebec and only understood French.  It was apparent that one of us would have to learn a new language and I thought the best chance of success was if he was the one to become bilingual.  He was a reddish blonde short haired dog with a body slightly too big for his shorter legs. The big brown eyes could easily melt my heart whenever he gazed up at me.  His right ear stood straight up while his left ear would bend half way up, and when walking him the top half of his left ear bounced up and down as if it was waving.

   As he settled in with me it became apparent that he was not great with other dogs, although he had lived with several others at his foster parents.  At first he was aggressive towards passing dogs on our walks but in time he merely just looked at them as we walked by.  Prior to reaching that point we had tried the dog park once, and that ……., well lets just say that didn’t work out.  He also thought it would be good to try to rip a 150 pound French Mastiff’s nose.  However with people he was a different dog, so very kind and gentle.  Kids would pet and hug him and he was fine.  In our twice daily walks he came to know many people that he liked to visit with……..they always knew Buddy’s name but probably couldn’t remember mine, if they ever knew it.  In particular around the corner Robert and Linda would sit on their front porch waiting for him during the warm weather.  They always had dog biscuits for him and it was a challenge for me to get him past their house if they weren’t out.

   I had made a deal with Buddy when he came to live with me.  Twice a day he would get out for walks, once in the morning and the second in the afternoon/evening.  Through heat, rain, sleet, cold and snow we went for our walks while the other dogs stayed home out of the elements.  When I was working day shift that meant we were getting up at 4:45 a.m.  and heading out for our walk shortly after.  As much as getting up early isn’t fun, we came to enjoy those quiet mornings, walking the street while most folks and their dogs were still sleeping.  It was peaceful, and it was a good way to start both our days.

   I had been living alone for a bit when I got Buddy, and I longed for company.  I wanted someone to be happy to see me when I came home from work, and Buddy always was. During Buddy’s time with me I probably struggled through the worst year of my life, and I suspect a good portion of credit for getting me through those dark days belongs to Buddy.  They say that when you are struggling you need a good friend who listens more, and talks less.  Buddy was a good listener and never took over the conversation.  I suspect to a few neighbours I would be known as that crazy guy who walked down the street talking to his dog.

   Buddy rarely barked.  Dogs would be barking at him and he would just look at them.  Anyone could walk into my house and Buddy would quietly greet them, but God help us if they rang the doorbell because that was the one thing that set his deep baritone barking off.

   Buddy asked for so little, but gave so much.  The unconditional love he shared with me, even when I didn’t deserve it, helped me get out of bed some days.  He was a rescue dog, but in all fairness I think it was he who was rescuing me, not the other way around.  

   One day I had a friend visiting, I don’t recall what we were talking about but at one point she started to cry over something she had shared.  I watched as Buddy got up, walked over, sat down beside her and then just leaned against her leg.  He had sensed her sadness and went to offer comfort.  What could she do but accept the comfort he offered and lean down and pet him.

   When my adult daughter moved back home Buddy was in heaven.  I was the old reliable walker, and provider of food and cookies but Elizabeth quickly became his best friend.  He adored her and would get far more excited for her arrival home than mine – admittedly a little hard on my ego, but I got over it.  He even forgave her for bringing her cat into the house, yes that’s right the dog that couldn’t tolerate other dogs learned to live with a cat. Neither Buddy nor Rorschach (the cat) would admit it but they worked out their boundaries and came to take comfort in each other’s company.  When Elizabeth and Buddy would snuggle up together on the dog bed, there was a gentle peacefulness, the love flowing both ways was obvious.

   I know that when he came to me he was considered a Senior dog, and as he was a rescue we never really knew how old he was.  The light colouring on his muzzle started to spread and he began to show his age.  A limp would come and go, we never quite figured out what was causing it.  And then he started having accidents in the house, almost always on his bed.  His beds were then covered with several towels and the washing machine ran daily.  He would get up off his bed and you could tell that he was as surprised as we were that he had an accident.  Then the amount of accidents increased and I would watch him in the yard or on our walks trying to go to the bathroom with no success.  The expensive ultrasound at the vet confirmed he had a tumor on his bladder.  There was an expensive surgery option but with his age and the risk the surgery involved we followed the Vet’s advice and just let things take their course.  Over the next three months he would have good and bad days, but soon the bad days outnumbered the good.  The heartbreaking part of it was during the day he was for the most part fine, but at night he repeatedly had accidents and was constantly asking to go out all night long.  I would watch from the dark window as he would walk about trying to go to the bathroom but failing.  I can only assume that the tumor had grown causing him to feel like he always had to go, and being unable to determine when he really did.

   It’s hard in the end to make the decision when the right time to let your friend go is.  I owed Buddy so much, it was important to get this right, but yet so hard to get right when you are trying to understand what is going on and he can’t tell you.  In the end it is a best guess kind of scenario, but the problem is…you want to be sure.  After a particularly rough night I made the decision that it was time.  I sat there with the phone in my hand…it took three hours to finally hit the call button.  I can only presume that the Vet is used to this, they were great and gave us the last appointment of the day.  

    Buddy laid on his bed and tolerated me laying there beside him, gently petting him as he laid there sleeping.  I know he saw the tears running down my face but I think he was dealing with his own stuff, as those big brown eyes just stared out at me.   There was the very slight scent that had never quite gone away after his encounter with a skunk months earlier.  I tried to explain that I hoped that I was getting this right and I would like to think he knew that I was doing the best that I could.  The thought of him suffering because I didn’t have the strength to let him go was just not an option.  I owed him more than that.

   It was a long eight hours from the time that I called to the time that my daughter and I took Buddy in.  There was lots of quiet time and snuggling.  We went out for our last hike, a nice long one at the Royal Botanical Gardens which I think may have been his favourite place to go.  It was wet, and it was muddy, but we both just enjoyed our slow stroll through the woods.

   We returned home and for supper instead of the kibble with a little bit of canned dog food he got straight canned food, more than a can of it, which he quickly devoured.  Then Elizabeth came home and I gave them their time together.

   Finally the time had come, we loaded up Buddy for the one way trip to the Vet.  He was great as he always is, happy to go wherever we take him.  They got us in the room and we laid there on the floor saying our goodbyes, a steady stream of tears flowing down our faces. Buddy just laid there, big brown eyes looking up at us.  As always he just looked at me with absolute trust, he trusted me with his life and I guess in the end he trusted me with his death.  First shot to relax and then a few minutes later the second fatal shot. I know that he went out knowing that he was loved, I hoped that he knew how grateful I was for his companionship over the years and that I had always done my best for him.

   I don’t know what Buddy’s life was before he came to live with me, but I hope that both he and I could agree that the last part of his life was a good life, where he was part of a loving family.  

    And now it has been a week that Buddy has been gone, and I realize what a huge hole he has left in my life.  Please don’t misunderstand, I have a wonderful lady, a great daughter and wonderful friends.  Buddy was just a huge part of my life, even more so then I realized, and it is now when he is gone that I notice everything.  When I wake up in the morning I am no longer greeted by those big brown eyes and wagging tail by the side of the bed.  There is no more dog kisses or licks or requests for pets.  I am no longer stepping around his huge dog bed, during the night in the bedroom or during the day in the living room.  I can now open the fridge door  without a blur of fur coming in to see if I am offering anything to the canine benevolent fund.  I can now cook in the kitchen and not trip over Buddy every time I step back. The morning and afternoon walk times come and go and he isn’t coming to get me.  The top of the fridge has been cleared off, no more dog food and dog treats. The dog food and treats have been sent home with friends for their dogs.  The dog towel and leashes have been taken down from by the side door where they waited for our walks.  I am still finding poop bags in my pants and numerous coats.  I can now use the dryer whenever I want (for reasons we never understood running the dryer terrified him).  Every time I get ready to go out, or when I come back in my first instinct is to let Buddy out, but of course he isn’t there.  When I come through the door now there is no loving dog waiting for me like I am his favourite person in the world ……. or second favourite after my daughter.  I no longer have Buddy to remind me that as long as we have food, am healthy enough to go for our walks and have each other…. then life is good.

   In closing I guess I just felt the need to express my gratitude to a very dear friend who is now gone.  Thanks Buddy, for the friendship shared, love given, for all the days you dragged me out the door on walks or hikes, and for reminding me that we need very little in life to truly be happy.  

D.