#“oh no I seem to have lost!! please give me your half eaten cold bun. for reasons. please im beg-”

[muzsmocsing]

Hua Cheng really said luck may not be on his side but I AM, so if he loses that's against the rules because in MY city law is Xie Lian always wins at everything and the prize is anything he asks for. Argue with the wall or my scimitar and I respect that.

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Ch 2

A/N: Thanks for all the love on chapter one! I’m defiantly going to make this at least ten chapters so buckle up haha. TW: Language 

Aelin couldn't remember when she’d lost count of the number of shots she’d taken. All she knew was that the alcohol coursing through her veins offered temporary relief from the breathtaking pain. The pain that had her sobbing so hard that she vomited her guts up each and every night. These pointless high school parties were her only escape from reality. Her parents were dead. Who gave a fuck about anything. Stumbling a little, Aelin made her way over the kitchen sink, prepared to vomit if need be. 

“Are you okay?” A low voice asked from behind her. 

“Fine.” She muttered and leaned against the counter for some semblance of balance.

“You don't look it.” The stranger said kindly. 

“Well isn't there some saying; Don’t judge a cover by its book or whatever.”

The mystery man laughed and Aelin finally lifted her head to look at him. He was handsome. So much so that if she hadn't already been leaning on something she might have swooned. His eyes were green, the colour of a pine tree in the dead of winter. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled and a tattoo crawled down the length of his arm and decorated the edge of his collarbone. 

I like men with tattoos. She thought. 

“Thanks.” He said, laughing awkwardly under his breath. 

Oh shit. She avoided meeting his eye, instead landing her gaze upon his silver hair. 

“Do you dye your hair.” She asked casually. 

He seemed slightly taken aback, but smiled all the same. “No. Do you?” 

She gasped as if it was the most preposterous thing he could've said and ran a hand through her long blond hair. 

“I’d sooner eat snakes.” Aelin grinned.

“People all over the world do that voluntarily.” The green eyed man mused. 

An image of someone eating snake popped into her head and Aelin suddenly felt bile rise in her throat. Before she could vomit on the perfect stranger, she bolted from the kitchen and into a vacant bathroom. Gagging, she fell onto her knees and was violently ill. 

So gently that she barely even noticed, her hair was pulled back from her neck and shoulders as her stranger eased himself onto the cold tile beside her. When Aelin had finished vomiting, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and slumped against the wall. 

“Thanks.” She said, tying her hair into a messy bun with shaking hands.

“I’m Rowan.” He answered, extending a hand. 

For the first time in weeks, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. 

“Aelin.” 

“Miss Galathynius are you even listening.” Her math teacher’s voice snapped her out of that very unwelcome flashback. 

“Do you want me to lie to you?” She asked, earning a few laughs from her classmates and an elbow to the ribs from Aedion. 

“Take a walk.” He snarled, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief. She needed fresh air anyway. 

The hallway was practically empty, save a few students on their way to the bathroom, and Aelin started towards the side doors to the parking lot. She passed a locker that had been decorated for someone’s birthday. Streamers flowed down from the top, framing the collage of photos perfectly. The girl in question looked to be a freshman, with a bright smile on her face and eyes that screamed innocence. The things Aelin would do to go back to freshman year. To live with that lack of knowledge and trauma that she so desired. But she couldn't. 

She was rounding the last corner when something made her stop dead on her feet. There, leaning against the wall in a way she’d seen so many times before, was Chaol Westfall. Still, it wasn't the sight of him that send her heart into a flurry. It was the girl fiddling with her hair opposite him. It took Aelin a minute to recognize her. Nesryn Faliq, they had advanced chemistry together. She laughed at something Chaol said and reached out a hand to brush his arm. Shivers ran down Aelin’s spine at that hint of a touch. Chaol smiled back at Nesryn and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. 

Unable to watch anymore, Aelin turned on her heels and bolted to the women's bathroom. She was breathing too hard, her heart racing much too fast to be healthy. God this was an awful time to have a panic attack. Slowly, she managed to calm her breathing enough to splash water on her face. 

This was bad. Really fucking bad. They’d broken up barely 24 hours ago and Chaol was already flirting with the entire female population of Terrasen High. Fine, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Clearly Lysandra had been right. Aelin slumped down against the wall and curled her knees to her chest. She needed a rebound, and fast. Aelin pondered names as she ran her fingers through the grooves in the bathroom wall. Name after name came forward and she found herself subconsciously shooting them all down. 

Nox, Fenrys, Sam, Lorcan, Sartaq. None sounded right. 

In fact, the only one she could ever see herself with was Rowan Whitethorn. The silver haired senior who’s heart she’d held in her hands sophomore year. Held and crushed. She deserved every ounce of the hatred he had for her. 

Still, he wasn't a bad option. She knew he found her beautiful, he’d told her as much. The only problem was that he would never go for her again. People tended to put up a guard after having their heart shattered. 

Flirting with him would be futile and unfair. The only way she could ever get him to date her was if she gave him something in return. 

“Holy shit.” Aelin swore, jumping up so fast that she nearly hit her heat on the sink. 

If there was anything Aelin knew about Rowan, it was that he wanted to play on the football team. He’d gone on and on about it before. According to him, he had been deathly ill during tryouts and had ended up vomiting off the side after one hit. He’d begged and begged the coach to let him try out again but it was four years later and Rowan still wasn't on the team. Lorcan, Fenrys, Vaughn, and Gavriel all were and Rowan was half miserable because of it. 

There it was. A plan. She’d get him a tryout, somehow, and in exchange he would help her beat Chaol in whatever sick game they were playing. With a newfound purpose, Aelin washed her hands and walked back to math class.

Lunch. She’d make her move then. 

----------------------

The cafeteria was mostly empty, a normal occurrence for Tuesday afternoons. The lunch provided was some weird crossover of meatloaf and mashed potatoes that had most students eating out. Unfortunately for Rowan, Fenrys had convinced them to eat in the cafeteria today in his attempts to stalk a blonde girl on spare in the lounge. 

Now, he was picking at his food as his friends discussed the football game tomorrow. Rowan was just beginning to think his day couldn't get any worse, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. 

“Can I talk to you?” Someone asked from over his shoulder. He knew that voice. Had heard it in both his dreams and his nightmares. Rowan’s grip on his fork tightened and his knuckles went white. His foot began drumming against the floor as he braced himself for impact. Everyone else at the table was rapidly flicking their gaze between Aelin and Rowan. 

“No.” He said harshly, not daring to turn around. Rowan didn't think he’d have the will to deny her anything if he was forced to meet her eye. 

“Please.” Aelin pleaded. “I have something to say to you.” 

“Well that’s too fucking bad because I have nothing to say to you.” He responded, voice carefully exempt of any emotion. 

“Then just listen.” She begged. “If you don't like what I have to say than we can go back to ignoring each other like you wanted.” 

“I wasn't the one who wanted that.” He snapped before he could take it back. 

Rowan felt more than saw Aelin stiffen behind him. Lorcan was drumming his fingers on the table, as if prepared to hold Rowan back if called for. 

But it was Fenrys, the friend who was kind to everyone, who spoke. “I think you should go Aelin.” 

She swallowed audibly behind him. “Alright.” She relented. “I’ll be at the Starbucks during fourth for spare. Come find me if you want.”

Rowan didn't bother to nod. Instead, he gripped his fork harder, letting up only when the sound of retreating footsteps subsided. He looked up slowly to find all eyes on him.  

“So that just happened.” Lorcan mused. 

“Yes thank you so much for that observation.” Rowan sniped sarcastically. 

“Woah.” Lorcan replied, throwing up his arms in mock surrender. “You’re mad at Galathynius, not us remember.” 

“Whatever.” He mumbled and went back to picking at his food. After a few seconds he threw his fork on the table and let out a groan of frustration. 

“This food is the worst thing I have ever eaten in my entire life. It is terrible and horrible and fucked up and I have no idea what to do with it.” Rowan half-shouted. Heads swivelled in his direction and he ignored them. Judgement from people he didn't know was the least of his many concerns at the moment. 

“Is that supposed to be some sort of metaphor for your life?” Vaughn asked, dead serious. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Seriously Rowan. All I've heard for the last year and a half is Aelin Galathynius this and Aelin Galathynius that and now she’s finally speaking to you and you’re not going to do anything about it.” 

“I don't talk about her that much.” Rowan mumbled under his breath. Lorcan shot him a look as if to say “Yes. Yes you do.”

“I know I'm normally not one to get involved in deep shit, but Vaughn’s right. I’ve never seen you nearly as happy as you were for those few months in tenth. And honestly, what’s the worst that can happen. You hear what she has to say. You like it, great. You don't, fuck it and forget about her.” Rowan had never heard Fenrys speak for so long without sarcasm in his life. 

“To be fair,” Gavriel said, always the buffer. “We’ve also never seen Rowan as broken as he was after Aelin. Maybe the risk outweighs the reward on this one Fen.” 

Rowan didn't reply. He was too busy struggling to get the memory of those painful few weeks from his head. 

“Just talk to her man. Who gives two fucks it’s high school.” Despite being mainly in an attempt to end this conversation, Lorcan’s words made sense. It was just high school. In one more year he’d be out of this shit hole and hopefully across the world in Rithfold. Talking to Aelin was just one step along the way. 

“I’m going to.” He said, willing his tone to stay confident. 

“Great man.” Fen said, patting him on the back. He barely felt it though. Barely felt anything as the rest of the day passed by in a blur, his thoughts occupied by a beautiful blond haired girl. 

---------

It had been twenty minutes and Aelin was starting to think Rowan wasn't coming. In all honestly she should've expected that outcome from the beginning. Even though she understood, the way he had acted towards her at lunch had hurt more than she was willing to let on. 

Instead of wallowing in her own self pity, Aelin took a long sip from her coffee. It seared her tongue and burned her throat, the pain helping to ground her in a way nothing else ever could. She was picking at her fingernails, head down, when he arrived. 

A metal chair scraped against the cobblestone, a bird sung from a oak tree, a paper bag rustled in the wind, Aelin Galathynius blinked. That’s all she had time to do. One blink to compose herself before she was looking dead into the eyes of Rowan Whitethorn. 

She allowed herself a brief second to take him in up close. His high and defined cheekbones, perfectly crafted nose, striking green eyes, and silver hair had always made for a truly stunning combination. He looked the same as ever. Except he didn't. His eyes no longer possessed that unbridled joy and love that she’d seen whenever he looked at her. Instead he just looked done. Done with life and done with her. 

Aelin swallowed audibly and handed him a coffee. “Cream and sugar.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. 

Rowan’s hands tightened slightly. “You remembered.” It wasn't a question. After a brief moment of hesitation he accepted the coffee and went back to staring at the table. 

“What is this about Aelin?” He asked softly. Although his voice was gentle, his tone was hurt in a way anyone else would’ve missed. She hated that. Hated that now, even a year later she was still somehow hurting him. 

“So you know I broke up with Chaol. Or, he broke up with me.” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. Rowan nodded once, nearly imperceptibly, and she took that as a sign to continue. “Anyway, Lysandra says that I need a rebound and I need one first because Chaol is the one who broke up with me.”

Rowan’s eye flared with surprise and something else she couldn't place. “I won't be your rebound. Please don't disrespect me by asking.” 

Her heart nearly cracked open at the pain lingering in his words. “No no I would never.” Aelin paused for a brief moment to regain her bearings. “Here’s the thing. I don't want a rebound. I’ve been in a relationship for as long as I can remember and I'm in desperate need of a break. But, I’m also the most competitive person you'll ever meet. Like seriously it’s an issue, once -” 

“I know.” Rowan interrupted. “Once you sprained your ankle 8 km into a 10 k run and still finished first because you couldn't stand the thought of losing. You told me already.” 

Aelin just stared at him for a second, her chest unbearably tight. Rowan’s eyes looked her up and down and she could've sworn his eyes flashed in satisfaction at the pain written on her face. 

Not wanting to look at him anymore, she went on. “I figured maybe instead of me actually doing the whole dating thing, we could fake date.” 

She held out a hand as Rowan opened his mouth to protest. Begrudgingly, he restrained from commenting and gestured for her to go on. 

“That way I'd beat Chaol in whatever this is, I wouldn't have to answer everyone’s condolences on my being dumped, and I’d be saved from the whole post breakup dating fiasco.” 

Rowan’s voice was hoarser than before when he finally spoke. “What do I get out of this.” 

She took a deep breath in. “I’ll get you a football tryout.” 

His knee slammed into the table and Aelin couldn't help but flinch. His eyes were wide and lit up with hope. “Seriously? How the hell are you going to do that?” 

“I have a plan.” She tried to sound confident despite her growing doubt. 

Rowan let out a small laugh. “The last time you said that we ended up in the back of a police cruiser covered in raw eggs and paint.” 

Aelin’s face broke into smile and she began to laugh. For a moment she could almost pretend they were back in sophomore year, lying on Rowan’s lawn and watching the stars. Neither of them had known anything about constellations so they’d made things up based on what they looked like. By the end of the night, Aelin’s stomach hurt from laughing. She wondered when the last time she’d been that blissfuly happy was. 

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, their smiles and laughs died on their lips. An uncomfortable silence seized the air and Aelin began to play with the hair elastic on her wrist. 

After a few more seconds, Rowan cleared his throat. “I’ll do it.” He announced, although it sounded like he was still trying to convince himself.  

“Great.” Aelin smiled. “Why don't you come over tomorrow and we can work out logistics.” 

“Don’t you live with Aedion?” Rowan asked cautiously.

“Yeah but he’ll be at Ren’s place tomorrow for a project. I checked.” 

Rowan nodded slowly and rose from his chair. “Alright.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, Rowan standing and Aelin sitting. “I’m going to uh... go.” He said at last, severing the quickly brewing tension. 

Without waiting for answer, he turned and fled, leaving Aelin to do nothing but watch. So they were actually doing this now. What’s the worst that could go wrong? 

TOG Tag List: 

@queen-of-glass

@courtofjurdan

@fictional-horan

@bamchickawowow

@julemmaes

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@chieflemming

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@http-itsrebecca

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@booknerdproblems

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@loudphantomdragon

@poisonous00

@wesupremeginger 

@becarefuloflove

@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx

@tillyrubes10

@perseusannabeth

[memesiders]

Ghost AU Part 2 :)

(This was the last part I had saved so figured I'd post it :) Will be working on Part 3 soon!)

Hazel eyes stared back at Mel as she studied herself in the bathroom mirror, setting down the eye liner and studying her work. The dark circles under her eyes refused to go away, no matter how much high coverage concealer she packed on. Her normally rich olive skin was so pale she almost looked like a ghost herself. "You look miserable," she sighed to her reflection, smoothing some highlighter onto her cheekbones and up her temple. She reached into her makeup bag and pulled out a dark wine colored liquid lipstick, carefully running it over her lips. Not sure this helps make me look more alive, but oh well, she thought, looking over herself once she was finished. Another loud sigh left her lips and she pushed away from the counter, bundling her vibrant hair into a messy bun, shorter strands escaping the hair tie and framing her face.

The hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood on end, a primal emotion washing over her that made her heart beat faster.

"Fury," she said softly, eyes darting around the small room. Something pink flashed in her peripheral vision and she spun on her heels, grabbing onto the doorway to steady herself. "I... I'm sorry about last night. You didn't even do anything and I yelled at you. But..." She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping.

"When you get like that around Lawson, I... You can't be like that around my baby brother." The phantom took form then, standing only a few inches away from the girl. Jaw clenched and arms crossed, the woman studied Mel.

"I know not to harm the brat; you know this by now," she replied, but her words fell on deaf ears. "You've made it more than clear he's completely off limits. Besides, I'd like to stay far away from that creature..." Fury uncrossed her arms, reaching out a tentative hand. Her fingers curled around a few of the bright loose stands, wrapping them around her finger before giving them a quick tug. "You're the worst creature of all." Mel smiled at this action and Fury couldn't help but give a small smirk.

She and the child had almost never gotten along, but the mortal had still managed to wiggle herself into Fury's small, cold heart; not that she'd ever admit it.

"Melinoe," her mother called. "Come eat, your bus is almost here!"

"Coming!" Mel shouted back, flipping the bathroom light off. "Alright, let's behave today, agreed?" Fury scoffed, stepping aside as the girl dashed down the hall.

"I'm always behaved, when it matters."

Mel hurried into the kitchen, throwing herself into the empty seat at the table that waited for her. She quickly tore into her breakfast, shoving a giant forkful of egg, cheese, and tomatoes into her mouth. "Easy, killer," her dad chuckled, looking up from the folder spread open in front of him. "Don't want you to choke."

"It's moms Huevos Rancheros; I literally cannot control myself," she shot back, following it up with another big bite from her breakfast. Her father laughed, reaching over and messing with her bun.

"Well try and show at least a little restraint, alright kiddo?"

"No promises!" They both chuckled and continued on with their morning, nearly oblivious to the beings that entered the room.

"Ooh, Huevos Rancheros," Strife groaned, staring at the dish longingly. "I can see it, I can smell it, but damn do I want to taste it; just once!"

"Maybe if we were corporeal," War grumbled. "I'd love to be able to feel my sword sink into the gnarled body of a demon just once more, feel my blade pierce its putrid heart." Strife looked at his brother, cocking his head slightly.

"Riiiiight... I mean, that sounds fun too." War sighed and reached out, grabbing one of the dining chairs. With a gentle tug the chair was sent flying across the kitchen, crashing into the wall. Mel's mother shrieked in surprise, a hand flying over her chest as she attempted to calm herself down. Mel choked on her food and quickly glanced from the broken chair to her mother and back again.

"It's an accident," she rushed out, her pulse jumping slightly. "It's War; he just doesn't know his own strength! I- I'll work on it with him-"

"You shouldn't have to work on anything!" her mom snapped, quickly clamping her lips together. The woman closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Mel looked down at her half eaten plate of food, picking at the remaining eggs. "I'm sorry, sweetie." Her mother was calmer now, and had regained some of the color she'd lost. "You should probably get ready to meet the bus." Mel nodded quickly and pushed her plate away taking a last gulp of orange juice before standing.

"It wasn't her fault," War grumbled his hands balling into fists. "Why must they treat her this way?" The air in the room swirled, the kitchen cabinets fluttering open and closed. The adults in the room quickly looked at each other with wide eyes, fear palpable in them.

"War," Mel said, spinning on her heels. "Please, stop." The ghost seemed to ignore her, the rattling only getting worse.

"Brother, stop," Strife ordered, his usual cheerful tone now completely stripped of humor. "This won't help her."

"They've upset her!" War exclaimed, one of the cabinets slamming closed. Everyone jumped and Mel gulped, her heart beating faster.

"War, please, stop! We- We have to get to school!"

"You'll only further upset her if you don't cut it out," Strife warned. "Look at her; does she look okay with this?" War glanced over at his human, studying her. The worry etched on her face, her small frame trembling, the shine in her eyes as tears began to build; and just like that, all was calm in the home. War sagged forward, grimacing.

"Thank you," she breathed, a sense of relief washing over her.

"Go," her mother said suddenly. Mel looked at her mom.

"I'm so-"

"Please, just take your brother and go." Her mom turned away from her then, gripping the counter to keep steady. "Have a good day at school." Mel furiously blinked back tears, grabbing her brothers hand and leading him to the door. The two backpacks next to the door levitated off of the ground and Mel swiped them up quickly, noting the faint smell of gunpowder.

"Thanks, Strife." The siblings stepped out into the crisp autumn air, the cold biting into her nose and cheeks.

"Are you okay, Meli?" Lawson asked, looking up at her curiously. Mel dabbed at her eyes and forced a smile, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine! It's just my allergies acting up." She tried to sound as cheerful as possible but the look on her little brothers face told her that she wasn't doing a good job of it.

"Is mommy mad at you?"

"No, she's not. She just doesn't want us to miss the bus." As they reached the end of the gravel driveway, a loud engine roar shattered the silence, a large yellow school bus turning down their street. "See? We would've been late!" Law smiled and wrapped his little arms around her side, squeezing tightly. She smiled and smoothed down his messy hair.

She looked up and spotted a familiar black blob sitting on the power lines across the street. The crow had been around for as long as she could remember, seeming to follow wherever she went. She'd offered the bird a few shiny bits and baubles and though it seemed grateful for the gifts, it would never get to close or allow her to pet it.

Death sighed from beside the two humans, staring longingly at the crow across from them. "Dust, you fool. Why do you continue to stick around? There's nothing left for you here." The animal cawed loudly in reply, attempting to tell him off, and the reaper chuckled. He missed the bird, not that he'd ever admit it; missed stroking his midnight feathers, the feeling of his talons sinking into Death's shoulder when the creature was too tired to carry on flying or felt lazy, missed the occasional peck or two; he missed everything.

"That thing's still around," Fury asked, moving to stand next to him. "How long has it been now?"

"Fourteen years since he tracked us down."

"And he still hasn't left; you two must've been great friends." Death hummed in reply, his gaze torn from the bird as the school bus pulled up. The door hissed and opened, the children quickly climbing on. Fury groaned quietly, following the humans onto the bus. Her lip curled immediately as she studied the scene before her, her hands rising to rest on her hips. The children on the bus were loud, wild, and disgusting, nothing unusual; still, it never ceased to amaze her just how annoying human offspring were.

"Just five minutes with these brats and they'd reconsider raising their voices above a whisper," she grumbled.

"You'd also scar them for the rest of their lives," Strife chuckled, popping into the bus. War followed close behind, barely hopping on before the vehicle pulled forward, leaving the house behind them.

"At least they'd be behaved." One particular child shrieked just then and Fury snarled, grabbing one of the girls pigtails and yanking it hard. The girl nearly flew from her seat. "Shut up!"

"Fury," Death warned. The girl pulled herself back up, her eyes wide with fear. She clutched the pigtail to the side of her head and quickly looked around, searching for the culprit.

"What?"

"Can we not go one day without you harming an unsuspecting child?"

"Can I not go one day without the incessant prattling of prepubescent children?"

"Someone get this girl a Snickers," Strife muttered, jokingly elbowing War's side. Fury cut her gaze to him, reaching for her whip, when she remembered it wasn't there. It was with her body at... She frowned to herself; where was her body? She still couldn't remember. None of them remembered how or where they died. The only thing she could remember was waking up tethered to an infant. Her eyes drifted to the teenager in the back, oblivious to the ghost that was watching her. Sixteen long years with no knowledge of how she and her brothers had perished. It irked her every single day, and she would never be able to get answers; not while she was attached to Melinoe.

"Fury," War said cautiously, careful to not provoke his temperamental sister. Fury hissed softly, turning her attention back to her siblings. Without saying anything, she disappeared from view, leaving only a wisp of pink smoke in her wake. The others exchanged glances but said nothing; their sister would calm down eventually. Hopefully she wouldn't cause any harm before then.

[mar-bluu]

Hey there! I've been reading some of your stuff and I just... 🥰🥰🥰 So much good. We love! If you're still taking requests, (no worries if you're not) and would be interested, may I request #75 from the Fluff and Hurt/Comfort prompts (I think) "you're the only person I'd do this for" with Redfinch? Maybe just something mostly silly and fun, possibly featuring Rich Finch™? (but if your inspiration takes you elsewhere, that's fine by me. I'm not picky, I just want some happy for our boys.😉)

Heya!! I am SO sorry this took so long for me to get to, ran into quite a few problems while trying to write these last few months lol! Ship: Redfinch Word count: 3000 Warnings: swearing, mentions of a fight, i think that might be it?

“You ready to go?” Finch popped his head around the bedroom door, adjusting his suit cuffs as he checked in on his boyfriend. Albert was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, fiddling with his tie that was just a touch too loose and a little wonky. He sighed defeatedly. “I guess.” Finch walked over to him and grabbed hold of the tie, redoing it and smoothing his hands over Albert’s chest. “There. Now you’re ready.” Albert groaned and slumped forward, placing his head in the crook of Finch’s neck. “Do I really have to go? Super-fancy-high-end parties for dumb rich people really aren’t my thing.” Finch wrapped his arms around him and grinned. “It won’t be too bad. Just walk around, talk to a few stuffy people, have a drink or two, laugh politely at the occasional joke, and that’s all. We’ll only be a few hours.” He stepped back as Albert sighed again. “You’re the only person I’d do this for.” He muttered, grabbing Finch’s hand, and playing gently with his fingers. “And I appreciate every second you stay stuck with me there.” Albert smirked. “You owe me big time for this.” “I know.” Finch took hold of Albert’s wrists, adjusting his cuffs as Albert tried to do his hair with one hand. “Will your mum be there?” he asked, causing Finch to chuckle. “Yes, she will.” “Oh thank god! At least there’ll be some entertainment.” “My mother getting drunk and picking fights with other guests does not count as entertainment.” “Then why is it so fun to watch?” Albert stretched up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Finch rolled his eyes and tried to hide his reddening cheeks. “You know, sometimes I think you like my mother more than you like me.” “Well, you didn’t down six champagne flutes and deck the lady next to you for badmouthing the waitress.” “Not yet.” “Ooh, do I have something to look forward to tonight?” Finch just smirked, brushed some imaginary dust from Albert’s shoulder and left the room without a word. “Do I?” Albert called after him. “Come on, the car’s waiting.” Albert bounced out of the room following his boyfriends sown the hall. “Do I!?”

--

The large ballroom had been opened up, half the wall sliding back to reveal an extra room used to house the food and drink bar, but it made Albert feel vulnerable and exposed. He hated it. In a room full of up-tight men in stiff suits, and snotty women in flowing, over-the-top dresses, Albert felt completely out of place. He felt small, like everyone was watching him, judging him silently, every airy laugh or titter made him tense up. Finch had been dragged off by his dad to talk to a group of snobby looking people over by the fountain. Yeah, the fountain. There was a fountain just in the ballroom. Albert sighed, they’d only been there for an hour, but it felt like seven. He couldn’t wait to go home. He was sat at one of the elegantly decorated tables, resting his tired feet on the chair opposite –he knew he should’ve gone one shoe size higher- picking absentmindedly at a loose thread of the lace-trimmed tablecloth, lost in his own thoughts. The sound of someone clearing their throat above him pulled Albert from his thoughts. He quickly dropped the tablecloth and brushed his hands over his lap, looking up to see a lady in a lavish turquoise dress, dark hair scraped back into a high, stylish bun. She extended one delicately gloved hand, which Albert took on instinct. “Cordelia Van Rensselaer,” she introduced herself with a small curtsey. “And you are?” “I- uh, Albert, Albert DaSilva.” He stuttered, giving a small shaky nod of greeting. “Well, Mister DaSilva, I just happened to be walking by when I noticed you seemed to be awfully lonely.” Albert took his hand away. “Oh, no I’m-” “So I figured I’d come and brighten your evening.” She picked his hand back up, tapping her foot slightly as she fell into the beat of the song. “Shall we dance?” Cordelia pulled Albert to his feet, she was a lot stronger than she looked. He jumped a little, trying not to trip over his feet or step on her very expensive looking dress. “Ah! No-” Albert moved back, hitting the backs of his knees on the chair behind him. “I’m actually just waiting for my boyfriend to get back- and- and I’m not much of a dancer.” He pried himself out of Cordelia’s iron grip. “Oh.” She said, clearing her throat. “I see.” She smoothed her hands over the ruffles of her dress, opening her mouth to continue speaking, when she froze, eyes narrowing in realisation. “Wait… DaSilva,” she rolled his name around her mouth. “Boyfriend…” her eyes widened as the pieces clicked in place. “You’re dating Patrick Cortez!?” Albert stuttered. “I- uh- yeah? Finch is my boyfriend-” “Oh, I should’ve known!” Cordelia hissed. “That stuck up, no good jerk!” “Hey-” Albert tried to interject, frowning at her sharp words. “I did you a favour by offering to dance with you- I extended an olive branch and you set it on fire!” Albert blinked at her. “What are you fucking talking about?” “Enjoy the rest of your night, DaSilva!” with one last sneer at him, Cordelia turned on her heel, stuck her nose in the air and flounced away to harass her next victim. Albert stared after her in confusion and disbelief- mostly confusion- god, he hated these rich people parties.

--

“-and she spilled her champagne all over the oysters!” Finch laughed along with the group of other well-dressed people, tossing back gulps of wine and snacking on dainty little quiches that were being passed along by waiters. Finch held his hands up, excusing himself from the group, and not so inconspicuously scanned the room for a familiar streak of red hair. Spotting his boyfriend skulking over by the food, Finch smiled to himself and set his sights on Albert, making his way over as quickly yet subtly as possible, ready for a break from all the intrusive, boring questions. “Ah, Patrick!” Finch came to a screeching halt as his father materialised in front of him, an older man at his elbow. Shit! Here we go again. Finch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you met Atticus Caswell and his sons?” he gestured to the other man. Finch bit the inside of his cheek. “No, I don’t believe I have.” He gave a strained smile as his father took him by the elbow and led him a few steps to the side, where another gathering of people he hadn’t noticed earlier stood, swirling wine in crystal glasses and chatting freely. Finch’s father immediately started forming a line of people for Finch to meet and talk to. Finch sighed, this was going to be a long, long night.

--

It was now ten pm and they had been at this stupid party for four hours. Four. Whole. Hours. Albert had eaten his way through half the food table and drunk at least three waiters clean out of their trays. And he hadn’t seen Finch once since they got there. Albert had been getting progressively more annoyed with the night as it dragged slowly on, but the dullness of not having his boyfriend at his side was what was killing him the most. He was beginning to seriously consider setting the gaudy curtains on fire just to get Finch’s attention. Just as his thoughts turned to the fountain, he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his waist. “Hey.” Albert craned his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of who was behind him. “Finch!” he gasped with delight as Finch buried his face into Albert’s neck, sighing with relief. “Miss me?” He asked and Albert grabbed hold of the hands that were still clasped tightly around his waist. “Not at all,” he smiled. “In fact, I quite enjoyed sitting here drowning myself in champagne and little tiny sandwiches. Did you know there are six different types of ham, but they all taste the same!” Finch grinned against his neck. “So I’m free to go back to mingling?” He began to untangle his hands from Albert’s. “No!” Albert pulled Finch’s arms back around him. “No, I was so bored! Please don’t leave me here to suffer again!” Finch chuckled and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Albert’s jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ve been just as bored as you are. Do you know how much it took me to not throw every single one of those people’s drinks in their faces? A lot.” “So why are we still here?” Albert whined. “It’s not like anyone would miss us.” Finch hummed. “Tempting, but you know my father would kill me. Besides-” “Well, would you look who it is?” The pair of them looked up to see a turquoise coloured demon standing in front of them, arms crossed over her chest, face turned to the ceiling as she looked down her nose at them. Finch sighed and let go of Albert, straightening his suit. “Hello, Miss Van Rensselaer, how are you this evening?” Cordelia clicked her tongue. “I was doing fine until you showed your hideous face.” “Hey-” Albert tried to interject, but Finch put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him calm. “That’s nice to hear,” he smiled, voice cold. “What may we help you with?” “Oh so now you want to help me?” Albert looked back and forth between the two, Cordelia had leaned right in, her face pushed right into Finch’s personal space. The overwhelming chemically floral scent of her perfume made Albert’s head spin and he fought to keep himself from coughing as he looked quizzically between the two. Finch rolled his eyes. “Look, Miss Van Rensselaer,” he had dropped the cold formalities. “If you don’t want anything from us, would you oh so kindly piss off? My boyfriend and I are trying to enjoy the night.” Cordelia screwed her eyes up and snarled. “Unfortunately for you, I’m allowed to stand wherever, and next to whoever I want!” her vicious demeanour shifted and she batted her eyelashes charmingly, pitching her voice up much higher than it was. “I hope I’m not sending you the wrong signals.” She said sweetly, baby-voice still dialled up to eleven. Finch not-so-subtly pulled on Albert’s sleeve, moving a step in front of him, narrowing his eyes at the haughty girl before him. Cordelia dropped her façade and returned to her aggressive stance. “And don’t call me ‘Miss Van Rensselaer’.” She hissed. Finch gasped, clutching at imaginary pearls. “Oh of course! My mistake, your royal bitchyness.” He bowed deeply. “Shall I kiss your ruby red slippers?” Cordelia bit back a growl, balling her hands into fists and stepping even closer to Finch, almost nose-to-nose with him. “Why you-” “Oh, Cordelia! Darling!” a whirlwind of champagne skirts rustled into view as Finch’s mother draped herself around Cordelia’s shoulders, wine glass loosely clutched in one hand. “How are you?” Albert struggled to keep the grin off his face. Finally, this night was going to get entertaining! Cordelia shifted under the other woman’s weight, stumbling slightly, trying to keep as far away from the wine that threatened to spill, as possible. “I- uh, I’m fine Mrs Cortez, thank you.” “Oh, that’s so good to hear darling!” She slurred. “But I saw you bothering my boys.” She tossed back another gulp of wine. “And I just wanted to remind you of what happened last time you tried something like that.” She purred, voice dripping with cheerful venom as she twisted a finger through a loose lock of Cordelia’s hair. Finch grinned and leaned down to Albert. “Cordie had the outline of my mother’s wedding ring on her cheek for a month!” He whispered through barely restrained laughter. Albert fought back a smile, as their attention was drawn back to the two ladies. Cordelia had grabbed Mrs Cortez’s wrist, still trying to keep away from the drink while also relieving herself of the weight of another woman hanging off her. “Well, Mrs Cortez,” she started, forcing a strained smile. “I was just having a friendly little chat with Patrick here!” She narrowed her eyes and hissed under her breath. “No reason for you to stick your fat nose in it.” Not as quietly as she thought, apparently. “What was that, darling?” Cordelia visibly froze. “O-oh! Nothing, Mrs Cortez, just clearing my throat.” “Mm, that’s what I thought.” She turned to look at her son. “And, oh! My boys! I got caught up, I forgot to ask you how your night’s going!” Finch pulled Albert closer to him by his waist. “It’s going well, thank you, mother.” “Ah, that’s good to hear sweetie!” Cordelia muttered again, her smile tightened “And you, Albert?” “Just fine, Mrs Cortez.” Albert grinned, shooting Cordelia a smug look from the corner of his eye. Cordelia snarled quietly. “Stuck-up bastard, I swear-” Mrs Cortez smiled, nails digging into Cordelia’s shoulders as she tried to stop her eyes from rolling. “Oh Cordie darling,” she sighed. “looks like we need to have another chat.” She moved her hand from Cordelia’s shoulder up to her pinned back hair, grabbing a fistful. “This way, darling.” And off she marched toward the balcony, dragging a squawking Cordelia behind her.

--

The entire room had gone silent, every person halting their conversation to watch them storm out. Albert and Finch followed suit, staring after them for a few seconds, until the balcony door slammed shut, and the room returned to its quiet chatter. Albert let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and laughed. He laughed and laughed, burying his face in Finch’s shoulder. He felt his boyfriend wrap him up in a hug, chuckling as well. “I love your mum.”  Finch snorted. “She loves you too, I think she asks more about you and how you are than she does me.” Albert stepped back, intertwining his fingers with Finch’s. “What can I say? I am pretty interesting.” He leaned out of the hug, hands still on Finch’s shoulders as the sound of Cordelia and Finch’s mother arguing floated faintly in from the balcony. The music slowly began to pick up again, and Finch smiled a little as he started to rock back and forth slightly, Albert could already tell what was coming and he bit back an eye roll and grin of his own. He felt Finch’s arm settle around his waist. “The night’s still young,” he murmured, pulling Albert back in closer. “Care to dance?” Albert smiled. “Ah you know I’m not much of a dancer, sweetheart.” Contrary to his words however, he reached down and slipped his hand inside of Finch’s squeezing it gently. “But with you, my dear? I’d love to.” and with that, Finch, who was undisputedly the better dancer of the two, lead them around a small section of the floor. Albert chuckled in embarrassment as he stumbled over his own feet, grabbing a little tighter on to his boyfriend’s shoulder. Finch slowed, helping Albert get his feet back under him before continuing on at a slower pace, listening to Albert count the steps under his breath. Eventually, they slowed again and returned to a gentle rocking, enjoying each other’s company. Finch could feel Albert growing tired, one hand clutched at his shoulder with the other pressed at his chest. “Hey Finch?” he murmured. “Hmm?” “I love you.” Finch blinked slowly, feeling a sweet warmth spread slowly through his chest. “I love you too, Albie.” And they stayed like that for a while, swaying in each other’s arms, letting the music wash over them, completely absorbed in each other’s presence. Albert, who was hiding his tiredness a little worse now –Finch was all but holding him up- could hear the steady beat of his boyfriend’s heart, which was not helping his sleepy state. “This is nice.” He mumbled into Finch’s dress shirt. “You also make a wonderful pillow, have I ever told you that?” “I don’t believe you have.” Finch chuckled quietly. “Well you do… you’re very warm… and comfortable…” he snuggled closer, and Finch watched as Albert’s eyes fluttered closed, he was just about to bend down and pick him up should he collapse in the middle of the ballroom, when a slightly muffled scream and the sound of a shattering wine glass sounded from the balcony, jerking Albert from his almost-sleep, steadying himself against Finch. The two of them looked toward the balcony, where the screaming was getting louder, before looking back at each other. “I think that may be our cue to leave,” Finch muttered glancing toward the balcony again. “I think you’re right,” Albert said, prying himself off of Finch and balancing on his own weak legs. Finch stole a glance toward the doorway that led out to the hall, then down to the exit and their freedom. “I’d say we can get the car around and be in bed in under half an hour if we leave now without any interruptions.” “Sounds like a plan,” Albert said as he stifled a yawn. Finch grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him toward the door, one eye on their escape and the other on the remaining guests, steering well clear of them. Their pace quickened as they passed through the door, turning into the hallway, and speeding toward the outside. Pushing open the large front doors, Finch helped Albert over the steps leading down to the garden where their car was waiting for them. “Hey, babe?” Albert asked as he and his boyfriend slid into the car. “Yeah?” “I’m never coming to one of these again.” Finch laughed. “Fair enough.” He took hold of Albert’s hand and brought it up to his mouth, brushing his lips over Albert’s knuckles, before driving off into the night, leaving the stuffy party and all the stuck-up people at it, behind.

--

(@gendistic42 here’s the context :3)

[leedie-reblogs]

# *fucks up a game of dice telekinetically*# “oh no I seem to have lost!! please give me your half eaten cold bun. for reasons. please im beg-”

Hua Cheng really said luck may not be on his side but I AM, so if he loses that's against the rules because in MY city law is Xie Lian always wins at everything and the prize is anything he asks for. Argue with the wall or my scimitar and I respect that.