#I usually hate photos of myself out of drag so I just felt like sharing

[anxietylord]

A stupid post from Instagram of me complaining about the algorithm but I actually don’t hate this picture of myself so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Lost boys backstorys

I made a post while ago on my ideas of the boys past but now I want to update it. I just want you to know I’m still a firm Prequel lover/follower however we don’t get much info on the boys Pre 1906, so that’s what this is for! However personally I would have had more Max so this is going to be both pre 1906 but also include relationship with Max a bit.

I am also including my personal ideas on Last names and age. However I am under the idea that they wouldn’t know/take their last name seriously if the did know it cause- ya know. Orphans. This is going to be lengthy and I’m going to pin it, not just because I want it seen but also to remind myself in fic writing (when I don’t follow these ideas in a fic it’s gonna be Marked as Au- as I’ll probably be messing around with a different past.)

I’ll be doing appearance but only physical as there’s some stylistic changes. For clothing? Honestly so thinking workers clothes/cowboy esc

Also! Their stories are all going to kinda intertwine so I’d there’s not enough info under one theirs a solid chance there’ll be more for them under someone else’s!

David Hardy-

Age(as of 1906): 19

Born: 1887

Appearance: Average height, his hair a dirty blond- near reddish and is around shoulder length. Bearded. (Think doc but with slightly updated clothing)

Backstory:

David Is the only of the boys to grow up with at least one of his parents, living with his mother until her death when he was around 7. They lived in a decent, though cramped little space in San Francisco, by the docks. His father worked on and off- a not so stable style ending in him getting involved in not doing saviory things - getting arrested. His mother worked as a washerwoman. David worked the streets awhile, as a young child now left alone, he learned to pickpocket and live off what he could manage. It was around this time he had found Marko- doing the same thing he was - though arguably less effectively do to his more sporadic nature. At around age 10 the two became extremely close and rather inseparable, Marko even looking up to him despite being the older of the pair. However david wasn’t one to living completely criminal like... he did NOT want to be his father, which lead him to not drinking , EVER. (Even as a vampire he still doesn’t do alcohol.) he poked towards more honest work, also forcing Marko into doing the same , which he wasn’t exactly thrilled about- but did anyway. Tried. David did a lot of work on the docks, odd jobs and stuff like that- but it never paid even half as good as nabbing a wallet or cheating at cards. He wouldn’t be his father- he’d be better- better then all the nobody’s. More level headed then Marko though  ambitious, big headed and still wildly child like- eventually Paul , Dwayne and Jasper joining the pair. Well now, David had himself a full on gang. Never robbery, not that far. The group pickpocketed , cheated at any sort of game or match, that sort of thing... they were still young after all. Smart enough not to go wild like some famous bandit (Though David will admit to his slight admiration of Billy the kid.). He’s a quick learner, and when he learns something- he learns it well- becomes a damn near expert. When he is good at something he is good at it. He is the leader out of the groups mutual respect towards him , quick thinker. Notable flaws: Huge ego, hopeless romantic.

Marko Connelly-

Age(as of 1906): 20

Born: 1886

Appearance: on the shorter side, golden - darker brown hair in this fluff of ringlets it’s long about just past his shoulder blades and typically tied back. Usually dirty somehow (Think Poli but with longer hair and updated clothing)

Backstory:

Born to a rich family , one of those who moved from east to west and actually did make it big. He was a pretty little thing, more a doll to his mother then particularly a child- only taken from Nanny to be dotted over or photos taken. However around the age of 3 or 4 things had tipped, scandal! Missing. That is what the newspapers said anyway he was found missing- was it that he was given away? Or stolen? He was never particularly a child to be quite or sit still or anything such as that... so who is to say? Marko doesn’t remember a lick of that either way as he was far far to young for it but he does remember being alone. This is how he had grown his attachment to birds, they always stuck around. He grew comfortable with being alone, having himself to depend on, getting good at grabbing what he needs- A mansion is stark contrast to dirty winding alleyways. He was always cursed with his looks- even filth covered at 6 he could make sad eyes and tend to swindle whatever he wanted... but he wasn’t completely quick. He’d get in trouble, his face memorable he could rarely pass the same trick again. At 11 David came across him, the two started working and living together (that is where they could find a place to sleep.) he sort of gained this complex. He felt he owed David , in some strange sense he became attached at the hip- a helper, a second- almost servant like the guy had saved his life and he is now the others. It didn’t help that at a young age, Marko had developed what was come to be understood as a deep crush- at times as teens this was reciprocated. As loyal and loving as he was to the other male he wasn’t nearly as cautious, as rule following... he had come to despise authority, to despise the fancy, the rich all of the crowd. He was never sure why. Even regular work got on his hate list... but he gave in and would try to do a normal amount pf work.. it never really worked as there was something, how he would sass, how he looked or smelled or spoke (neither him nor David really spoke ‘proper’ English - meaning no slang or accent). Around when Paul came things started to shift in the group, more mouths- more work and more thinking. Oh yea David and his thinking. Marko is a bit hostile right off the bat when it comes to people he doesn’t know, eventually he cracks and will be more loyal to you then to anyone you’d ever know. He opened up to Paul, a lot sooner then he would have thought the guy was funny and sweet - lil stupid too. David had this grand idea of a little gang, naturally Marko was all for it because illegal activity is fun- it was like a game to him. A liked stealing from pockets and playing distraction for David, as time grew he began to hate how young and gentle his face appeared to be. He LOATHED absolutely appalled the pity glances he would get, the hand outs the whole “oh you poor fragile little dear 🥺” he hated being babied and still does. He hated the stares he got on the opposite direction ... at first, it was funny, it was nice to be wanted in that sense rather then some baby. However... it grew creepy, it wasn’t women or a fella his age...it was more the gaze of older men. Marko detested it so much- he KNEW he’s seen what some of the guys... even younger then him ended up doing- he could see the occasional look in david’s eye. No he would never really consider....no. Paul was more his shoulder to cry on, someone to go to , to ramble to to speak with and just be with. The two were touchy, always leaning against eachother or grabbing their arms, laughing or sleeping or- eventually it became more then casual, it was serious. The two started ‘dating’ at some point- none of them were ever serious on titles but it was good to put a word to it.

Paul campbell-

Age (as of 1906) : 18

Born: 1888

Appearance: tall and lengthy, he has a mole on his left cheek, he has stubble/shadow opposed to a beard. He’s also usually dirty, dirty blond , long hair think Buffalo bill with volume and his hairline not receding

Backstory:

Grew up in a orphanage, hundreds of kids all stuffed together into a few rooms, often sharing beds and everything else. He was never a still child, he would always figit and move and shift - whenever he’s supposed to be quite or still like lessons or Mass he just couldn’t. This - got him most of the attention from the mistresses and overseers- much more quick to slap then to explain... he was docile , quick to flinch and try and stop. Never worked well. Once you get to 7-8ish you work if not adopted by a decent age. Sweeping, factory work he tried it all. He was particularly desensitized to violence at a extremely young age while working in a textile factory- he’s seen a kids arm come clean off. Terror turns to fascination eventually. At some point he’d stopped returning at night finding David and Marko at 15, he started hanging with them- it was safer in numbers that sort of thing- Paul could read a bit , David could write a bit- the three worked it out together. always so distracted- the others learned right off the bat he wasn’t built for pick pocketing no matter how hard he begged about it. Instead he’d do real jobs- sweeping , fighting, placing crooked bets that sort of thing. He always complains. A massive softie since he was young, Paul can’t quite handle being on his own- he’s used to having at least one other person around him at all times causing him to get quite hooked onto the other boys. He hovers around the same places. He is also a fan of dancing- Paul- is music obsessed the moment he heard the first noise of any sort of music he was hooked. He is one about fun- being restrained from it for so long as a child- always to sit out and watch or to think about whatever he did.. oh. Dancing, drinking, drugs, clubs, all of it is his kind of deal- he would drag the others with him when they had a bit of extra cash to deal with. Dwayne and his brother, when they joined on he was instantly accepting, unlike Marko he didn’t have the deep seeded trust issues, he was immediately touchy and happy to share a joke or a comment no matter the glares. He is the one to get Dwayne to lighten up a little bit, to smile he loves to see that smile :). He got around to dating Marko, when they finally put a label on it he was really giddy about it, making jokes and comments- he adores the little names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘bo’ - he eventually gets around to just plain ‘sugar’ . Marko is the one who really entertains Paul’s love for dancing, the two of them trying to get the others to do something lighten up- eventually their pawing would bare fruit. Paul makes the best out of the worst situation, even if they end up sleeping on the beach more often then not- he somehow makes it seam alright. Except that one time he had gotten sand in Dwayne’s eye and all hell broke lose. He is the current youngest member of the group after Jaspers passing.

Dwayne Maher

Age (as of 1906) : 22

Born: 1884

Appearance: Tall, muscular , tanned(I will establish this now but Dwayne is Native American.) long Black hair with burnet highlights, reaches half down his back.

Backstory:

Born out more Midwest unlike the others he was not born in San Francisco, eldest son of a decent sized family of four kids. Do to conflict he and his younger brother skipped town, skipped state and fled to California.. better options you know?. He’s strong built, hard working and good with his hands though, rather playful most of the time. He looks after his younger brother closely, when there is work they work the same place, when there is not they both still do the same. Quickly took to David and the gang , having a tight knit bond with each of them. He was sort of the muscle - if there was trouble, he knew how to fight and it would likely work better then the knives the boys carried around or the gun David could barely shoot. It was Paul who got him to open up more, about himself and just to speak in general, he’s much more under his breath and jokingly commenting then he is saying something out loud- however if he dislikes something or thinks it stupid you WILL know it. Like David he carries the occasional thought of caution, however he’s not nearly as quick to worry. Maher is not his actual last name , nor does he ever mention it- he simply uses this one when it’s needed as some sort of identification or document. He’s surprisingly good at money, he ends up counting with David and is better at budgeting no matter how he may want or need something. He doesn’t speak on his past as he tries to make it seam he has little of one, he likes to make things mysterious he finds it amusing.

Jasper Maher-

Age (as of 1906) : 16

Born: 1890

Died: 1906

Appearance: shoulder length black hair, typically tied back and braided , tanned, string bean.

Backstory:

The younger brother of Dwayne who is much much more open on how he grew up, casually mentioning things he learned from his parents of his brother (he doesn’t remember his parents that much.) young hot shot sort of kid who’d much rather have action then he would some serious job, loud, energy filled and one for violence- however he’s surprisingly sweet. He often got himself and his brother into trouble. He was a quick and fast young child who grew surprisingly closest with Marko, the two having a habit for breaking every possible rule they could manage together. Their close friendship lead to Marko naming one of his birds after Jasper long after his passing.

Max-

Unknown age but he is seen as extremely old and powerful

Relationship with the boys:

After finding them he has decided to take them under his metaphorical and physical wing, acting as a sort of guardian. Food, clothing, shelter, he was everything the boys didn’t have and was surprisingly inviting in the beginning. ‘I do this for you, you on occasion do this for me’ sort of deal. He wasn’t a leader so much as he was a usual figure, the boys knew and understood him to be above them... so they followed you know? The whole new vampirism thing and the clueless kids- he had to explain and show nearly everything... especially to David, he wasn’t so much harsh to him as he was strict- more of a lead by example sort. Honestly he was father like in a strange sense- that someone is almost like a parent but very much your boss. See... with Max’s strength, there’s this almost automatic level of control- you can’t say no to him. You literally can’t not do what he asks (some supernatural level messing-). There’s something dark about him, in him that the boys still don’t understand in the 80s- but it scares them. It’s strange, it feels unlike him... he seams just like a Dorky , sweet man until...

Some random thoughts that don’t really fit anything

The boys are explicitly religious, past what you’d hear in passing or remember from growing up. Saying “oh god” and respecting religious officials are about what you’ll get

Whoopsies! This was a extremely long post lmao. Sorry for the long read but I could go on and on about them this was just a small blurb to all of it. If you ever wanna hear more do tell me. Also tell me if I should add tw for anything as I know I got a little dark at some points.

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Mr Lonely part 4

Word count: +2600 (its a short one... I know)

Warnings: none

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21 @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Read part 3 here

December 1st. It’s been 3 months since the night we started officially dating. The air was frigid and the trees were bare. Snow covered the ground and the sun started setting at 4 pm. But I wasn’t as grumpy as I would have been, I had him. Things had been going really really well. We haven’t been able to keep our hands off of each other. Sheamus’ large hands hold my hips every time he walks past me and I still feel weak under his touch. When my back is turned to him, he’ll either slap my ass playfully or run a hand through my hair. When his back is turned to mine, I do the same things.

We don’t often make it through dinner. I prefer to dine at home, that way I can crawl onto his lap whenever I want. He prefers to dine out, only so he can tease me under the table and watch me suffer.

He’s been really good about the girls too, there aren’t many that try anymore but sometimes he gets the occasional text. I hate it, I trust him, but I hate it. His number is everywhere in my bar, I’ve tried my best to paint over the pen and marker marks but the carvings remain. The digits dug into my bar taunt me every time I'm working and I hate it. I want him all to myself. This isn’t the first time I’m saying this, he knows how much it bothers me to see his phone number carved into the wooden bar and stall doors. Nothing I can do can get rid of the past.

It was 2 am on Christmas Day.

Sheamus’ phone buzzed silently in his sweatpants pocket. He had worn pants to bed that night, which I found odd, and he never placed his phone on the windowsill near him like he usually did.

I remember waking up to him getting out of bed slowly, I didn’t open my eyes but I rolled towards him and placed a hand on his warm back, he was sitting up. “Go back to bed, love. Ah’m just goin’ to the bathroom.” He whispered. That was enough for me so I removed my hand from his warm skin and rolled back over.

What I didn’t know was that Sheamus was not going to the bathroom. He slipped out of my room and closed the door silently behind him. He had left his laundry folded on my couch, I noticed earlier but didn’t care much. He pulled on a long sleeve shirt and a warm flannel before rummaging through the small pile and grabbing two socks, not turning on any light to see if they matched. He then slipped on his old work boots, reminding himself to get a new pair soon, and his coat before grabbing the keys to his truck and my key to the bar.

-

I woke up on Christmas Day to Sheamus rolling over in my bed and snuggling up closer to me. It was 10 am. I was excited for today, the bar was not open on Christmas so Sheamus and I would spend the evening with my family. Sheamus’ family is in Ireland, he doesn’t talk much about them. All I managed to know is that he doesn’t have any siblings and he doesn’t get along with his father.

I turned in his arms so that I was facing him. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. He was snoring softly and breathing steadily. I gently ran my finger along the lines of his face, his lips turned upward when fingers brushed through his beard.

Normally, I would get up to make breakfast but I didn’t want to disturb him. He was always so intense, so charismatic, and so alive that it seemed out of character for him to be so at peace. He looked content. I’m sure the holidays weren’t the best times for him in previous years, I figure he spent them alone. Sure, there were women more than willing to spend the nights in his bed but what did he do when they were gone too? I knew he missed home, he had family at home. He definitely missed his mom. He spoke to her on the phone every day and they even sent letters back and forth-- I was at his apartment once, sitting on the couch while he took a shower after a long day of work, and I saw the most recent letter from his mom on the counter. I didn’t want to read it and I didn’t read it, but I couldn't help scanning my eyes over the page. I caught my name written in a random sentence in the middle of the page… he had mentioned me to his mother.

Sheamus woke up, his bright blue eyes met mine and snapped me from my trance. I blinked a few times and, knowing I had been caught staring, felt a blush bloom across my face. Sheamus only smirked his beautiful smirk and pulled me closer to him. He was always so warm. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head before resting his chin in the place he just kissed.

“Ya look like you've been thinkin’ love.” He mumbled. “Ah can still see the smoke common’ from yer ears from all the effort.” Sheamus laughed at his joke and squeezed me against his bare chest, allowing me to get close enough to slap it. Despite the playfulness and gentleness of my slap, my hand left an angry red mark on his skin. I always felt bad after seeing a mark on his skin, they never hurt him but the stark red against the beautiful white always made it seem like a life-threatening injury. He personally liked all the marks I left on his smooth white skin over the months, he would always admire them after sex.

I playfully pushed away after staring at the mark from the slap and sat up on the bed, “ugh, and to think I was gonna make you snowmen shaped pancakes this morning.”

Sheamus rolled dramatically onto his back, my eyes were drawn to the blanket riding low on his hips. My eyes followed the trail of soft red hair leading downwards from his belly button, teasing what was beneath the boxers he was wearing. “Oh no! Whatever will ah do without three normal shaped pancakes that ya line up on a plate and put chocolate chips on fer eyes?!”

I feigned offense to his overly dramatic comment. “Excuse me? They are cute!”

“Yer cute.” He winked and sent me a boyish grin that made my insides clench. I shut my lips and decided to tease instead. I rolled my eyes and stood up before bending over to grab his shirt. I knew he was watching. I was only wearing underwear. He didn’t move, but he was growing hard underneath the fabric of my sheets and his boxers-- he had taken the sweats off after he had gotten back around 4 am. I slipped his shirt on and headed towards the bedroom door, “I'm making you snowmen pancakes.” I said before stopping to turn around. I turned and my eyes met his, “and you better be appreciative or I will put on pants.”

It was the only threat I knew he’d take seriously.

We ate our pancakes in the comfortable silence that I have grown to love over the past couple months. “You don’t have to leave today, do you?” I asked between bites of pancake. My eyes rose from my plate to meet his eyes.

He finished his bite and my eyes moved to his neck as he swallowed. He took a sip of coffee before speaking. “Of course not. It’s Christmas, nobody works on Christmas.” Sheamus shot me a smirk before shoveling the final forkful of pancake in his mouth. “Yer spendin’ the whole day wit’ me, love.” He wiped his mouth and mustache with his napkin before getting up and placing his plate in the sink. “Whether ya like it or not.” I watched his bare torso and arms shamelessly as he rinsed his plate. I could feel heat shooting throughout my body as his muscles rippled with his effortless movements.

“When do you want to do gifts?” I asked, staring at his back as he placed the rinsed dish in the dishwasher.

Sheamus was silent for a moment but spoke after he closed the dishwasher and turned to me. My eyes were on his body as he turned. “We can do gifts whenever ya want. But ya should go first, ya won’t be able to follow my gift to you.”

I shot him a glare and padded to the living room, where a small Christmas tree stood in the corner by the couch. “Sit.” I pointed towards the couch, the pile of laundry from yesterday was still sitting on one of the cushions. Sheamus sat and I walked to the small coat closet that I had and began digging through the clutter. I emerged seconds later with a medium sized box wrapped in shiny green paper with a golden bow. I placed it on his lap with a kiss to his head and sat on the couch beside him.

Sheamus opened the gift with a smile on his face and a shimmer in his eyes, he looked like the little boy in the photo of him I saw for the first time months ago. The paper was peeled off and revealed a neutral box, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I nodded once, encouraging him to continue opening. He opened the box carefully and I smiled upon seeing a small gasp escape from his lips. He pulled the left boot out of the box and turned to me. “How’d ya know ah needed new boots? And ya got the brand and the size and everythin’!”

“Well I’m not blind, your boots are falling apart and you always beg me to rub your feet after work,” I scrunched my nose as I told him. “And you’re not the most unpredictable dresser. You wear the same thing everyday. I took one of your boots to the store downtown a few weeks ago, got the same brand, same size, same color. I have the receipt if you wanna go back and try something new.” I told him.

The Irishman smiled and brought his arm around my shoulders to pull me in. “They’re perfect. Thank you, love. Ah really needed these.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple. “But, my gift is still better than yours.” He teased.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Okay, where is it then?” I asked, looking around. I have to admit, I did my fair share of snooping these past couple days-- both at my apartment and his-- while he was at work and I couldn’t find a thing.

“Well, ah don’t have it here…” His voice trailed off but it picked up again before I could speak. “As much as ah hate when ya get dressed, yer gonna have to.” I rolled my eyes and dragged him into my room. I threw on a pair of joggers and a jacket over his shirt.

I turned to look at him, “Is this good? Or are you taking me somewhere public?” Sheamus chuckled and told me I was fine. I pulled my hair up into a half up half down bun before slipping on my boots and following him out to his truck.

Sheamus had started the truck before we had gotten outside so it was warming up quickly as we climbed in. The air was brisk, the wind was blowing, and snow covered the sidewalks. Christmas hits played at a low volume on the radio. Normally, I’d be singing, but I stayed quiet so I could hear Sheamus' deep accented voice sing the lyrics.

He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and I sat in the passenger’s seat, looking extremely confused. “The gift is in here.” He commented, noticing my confusion. I glared at him before climbing out of the truck and following him to the doors. He pulled the key out of his jacket pocket and opened the door, holding it for me to walk in. I clicked on the lights and looked around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than the faint smell of paint-- that I didn't notice at the time.

“Is my gift in here?” I teased.

“Yes, it is. Look around, but don’t touch anythin’.” I groaned, my mom always played the hot and cold game with us on Christmas and I was always so impatient. I looked around for a few minutes, finding nothing. Sheamus knew I’d be searching hopelessly, I was looking for a box. “Look on the bar, love.”

I turned to him, “On?” I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly.

He nodded, “Yes, dear, on.”

I turned back to the bar and walked closer, I saw nothing on it. “There’s nothing here.” I spoke, still looking at the blank wood.

“Exactly. There’s nothin’ there…” His voice trailed off, leaving me to solve his riddle.

It took a moment for it to click. When it did, I took off down the bar. The entire surface was smooth, untouched wood. I ran into the bathrooms, the stall doors were also smooth and untouched. I bursted from the spotless bathrooms and circled around to the tables I knew had been carved. “Sheamus!” I squealed as I ran straight towards him. He was still standing right by the door, he hadn’t moved. Once I reached him he held his arms out for me and I jumped into them-- cliché, I know. But you’d do the same thing if the former town whore, who was now your boyfriend, had removed his phone number from every wooden surface in the bar you worked at because you didn’t like it being there.

“How’d you do this?” I asked, still in his arms. “When’d you do this? I was at the bar last night. Granted we closed early but you were with me the entire time.” I was babbling. I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t help myself.

“When I woke ya up last night and told ya ah was goin’ to the bathroom. Ah snuck out of the apartment and filled in the wood, re-stained it too.”

“Oh my god, Sheamus,” I pulled my head away from the crook of his neck to look into his blue eyes. They still had that shimmer in them, the same one from the photo, the same one he had when he would ask me to check his essays, the same one when we talked that first night in the bar, and the same one from when he opened his new boots. “Thank you.” My voice came out as only a whisper before I pressed my lips to his.

-

“And that was the moment I knew I was in love with your father.” I said, looking up at my daughter who was furiously typing away on her school-issued laptop. She had approached me earlier asking questions about my relationship with her father for a school project about her family.

3 Christmases after our first together, Sheamus proposed to me in the empty bar. We got married the next fall. That was 20 years ago, we have a son who is 18 and a daughter who is 16. Our son, Andrew, has my hair and my brown eyes. He got my tanner complexion too. Our daughter, Alex, on the other hand, is a carbon copy of the Irishman:" red hair, blue eyes, and beautiful pale skin.

“Wait, dad was… ‘the town whore’?” Alex stifled a laugh as she quoted my words, “How am I supposed to write that into my project?”

I laughed too, “I don’t know, honey. But don’t make fun of dad too much about it, he’ll get embarrassed.” I joked.

My daughter smiled and looked back down at her computer screen. “I’ll just say that you met in high school and met again after college. That’s good enough.”

A/N: chapter 4 was short, but I hope you enjoyed Mr. Lonely! I debated writing the proposal scene so let me know if you want it and I’ll post it as a chapter 4.5!

[hangmanshole]

here comes santa claus

A/N: there’s no point in sugar coating this….. it’s pure unadulterated sheer horniness for ryan bergara in his santa costume.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut to come in part 2, enough swear words to rival a 10 year old who just learned the word fuck, horny xmas pickup lines that wouldn’t be out of place in a cheesy xmas porno

with christmas fast approaching and your ebenezer scrooge vibe stinking up the loft you shared with your best friends, they finally lost all patience and took it upon themselves to drag your grumpy ass out of the comfort of the loft and into the car for some good old-fashioned retail therapy at the mall.

“but—“

“shut up, you’re going shopping and you’re gonna love it. maybe you could even buy a vibrator and go to town on yourself so you stop being such a cunt.”

“tell me how you really feel,” you grumbled, lowering into your seat so you were at the optimal position for window gazing.

—————

“bergara, you’re late… again” steven tsk’ed in annoyance, he wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with ryan’s shit, and also, he fucking reeked of stale beer. he was pretty sure the stain on his costume was also beer, or beer adjacent (enter whisky).

“better late than never, now let’s make some fucking wishes come true, huh?” he rubbed his hands together mischievously and walked out to his spot on santa’s throne. yeah. steven definitely wasn’t getting paid enough for this shit.

“HO HO HO BOYS AND GIRLS ITS ME, SANTA!” steven sighed, shook his head and plastered a smile on his face before running out to his position as head elf.

——————

“fellas i’ve changed my mind, i’m ready to get in the holiday spirit” you said in an attempt to declare a truce, maybe it wasn’t too late to back out of this.

“not only are you a grinch, but you’re also a goddamn, dirty liar. you need this” your best friend retorted, not at all impressed. you think you need new friends, this one’s defective and can call all your bullshit.

you sighed in defeat and allowed them to drag you through the entrance of the mall for what would be a torturous five hours of christmas shopping.

——————

“santa’s going to take a quick break, and then he’ll be right back! everybody say bye santa!” steven said to all the children and their accompanying parents while ryan stumbled out of his throne and back into the dressing room (tent).

steven pulled back the door to the tent and found ryan chugging straight from a whisky bottle that was nearing empty.

“nice one santa, maybe try not to fall on your ass this time. i can only say santa’s a bit clumsy because he can’t see over his beard so many times.”

“yes dear, i’ll be a good boy from now on” ryan replied in a drunken stupor.

“jesus christ, is that bottle from today?” steven asked, ignoring ryan’s smartass comment.

“you bet your sweet ass it is.”

steven sat in weighted silence as ryan chugged down the rest of the whisky bottle. the uniform he had to wear was unbearably itchy, not to mention thick (which makes him sweaty), and worst of all, he had to babysit ryan through the rest of the holidays. he was disgruntled to say the least - what was usually his favourite time of year was soured because his best friend was broken-hearted over a friends with benefits situation gone wrong, thus drinking himself into a fucking hot mess while he was meant to be lying about the miracle of christmas to gullible, doe-eyed children while their parents paid for their kid to sit on the lap of a stranger. happy fucking holidays.

he glanced at the clock, and then back at ryan who was staring into space, completely disconnected from reality.

“breaks over, santa. knock ‘em dead” he said in what he hopes was an encouraging tone. he was met with a slurred grunt, which he’d have to accept as an answer. he watched as ryan gathered himself up and stumbled his way out of the tent. steven prayed to whatever god was looking down on him to have mercy on him, and also on ryan’s liver which was surely taking hella damage.

———————

“dude can we go home now? i’m literally out of money” you pleaded to your roommates. your feet were sore from standing for so long, your mouth was dry from the giant soft pretzel you’d snacked on earlier and to be honest, you were fucking exhausted from being around people for so long. your social battery could only last for so long and you were riding the last of that sweet sweet juice on 2%.

“in a minute” was all the answer you got. after 20 not minutes, according to your best friend anyway, passed you exited the store in a huff, leaving all your shopping bags unattended in the cart. you exhaled a long breath and thought about all the reasons you loved your friends and how you’d miss them if they suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth.

just as you allowed yourself to get swept away in your thoughts, a bellowed HO HO HO caught your attention. not fucking santa. god, you’d forgotten that malls hire any random dude off the street once a year to play santa and let all the good little boys and girls of this shit piss town sit on his lap and tell them what they want for christmas.

i’ll tell you what i want for christmas, santa. some fucking dick, you thought to yourself. you make the decision to glance over in the direction of this years holiday shmuck, entertaining the idea of getting a good laugh out of the pervy old man sitting on old saint nicks throne. you’re surprised however, to find a young looking guy, fucking fit, manspreading on santa’s seat.

were all the old men of the world too busy to play santa this year? who is this guy?

your questions unfortunately received no answers as your roommates finally decided to make an appearance outside the store.

“we’re done— uh…. are you checking out santa?”

“no the fuck i’m not” you replied, just a tad too fast.

“dude ew oh my godddd, since when do you like old men?”

“he’s literally not old, look.” you point over towards the christmas display so that your friends too could appreciate the view that is new hot santa.

“i think we should take a family photo with santa” your best friend mused, a shit eating grin plastered across their stupid face.

“no, i refuse. no” you reply, but your words fall on deaf ears. the three bastards you call roommates are already dragging you over to the queue of children waiting to see santa.

“you can’t make me!” you shout, catching the attention of several disproving mothers. they let go of you once you’re situated in the queue, and your best friend says that they’ll wait in line with you until it’s your turn.

“i hate this, i hate it here, i hate you…do you hate me? is that why i’m here?” you ask.

“you don’t get to be a jackass just because some asshole jock broke your heart. and you don’t get to be an even bigger asshole on christmas just because your parents got divorced when you were a kid. this is our first holiday as a loft family and you’re ruining it.”

you don’t reply after that, what could you even say? what would you even say?

“next please!” the head elf called out to you.

“don’t forget to smile!” your best friend said to you, then patted you on the back and left the queue.

“i don’t mean to rush you but santa is on a tight schedule, please come up if you’re ready for your picture” the head elf said to you, looking you directly in the eyes.

you nodded, embarrassed, and made your way up the stairs as fast as you could. your senses were hit with the scent of whisky and stale beer. talk about christmas spirit. santa was still seated while manspreading, and you realise now it’s because he’s fucking tanked.

“well hey there pretty girl” santa greets you, a wicked grin on his face.

“hi santa” you reply, not moving toward him.

“why don’t you come over here and sit on santa’s lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up” he chuckles. your face flushes pink. you clear your throat uncomfortably and fill in the final gaps till you were sat on santa’s lap.

“now that’s a good girl. why don’t you tell me what you want for christmas, baby?” santa says, his tone a chilling purr in your ear. he takes the chance and pushes a loose strand of hair behind the same ear he’d just whispered into.

“santa—“ you start.

“yeah?”

“i just want a man to take care of me and my… needs” you muse, a slight smile gracing your face.

“and what needs would those be, little girl?” you watched as santa’s eyes darkened while they bore into yours. god he was so fucking hot.

“let’s just say… it’d be a christmas miracle if any man could make me cum this holiday season” you pouted. you felt santa harden in the slightest underneath you, a low growl leaves his mouth, concealed by the ridiculous santa beard.

“how about you let santa take care of you, huh, sweet girl? i wanna give you this present myself.” you moaned quietly into his ear.

“say cheese!” the head elf said, pulling the both of you out of the trance of your conversation. you both smiled at the click and then turned back to each other.

santa slipped you a piece of paper and you pocketed it immediately. “my shift ends in an hour, meet me at the address on that note?”

“only if you wear the costume” you smirk at him.

“god i’m gonna fuck you so good.”

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 27

Welcome to chapter 27.

So, we are still in Glasgow. Our two lovebird are having a tourist day and Rowan is showing Aelin some of his favourite sites of Glasgow.

Later on there is a moment that has a warning: your ovaries might explode because Rowan is just... let's just say that he will be such an amazing dad.

His accent has a bit of a transformation and he goes into Glasgow mode and in my head Rowan with a Glaswegian accent is so sexy that I want to cry.

In this chapter they cover quite a lot of ground and all the places I mentioned they do exist. These are the cloisters: https://i.redd.it/mxant25n4zh01.jpg. Glasgow uni is a truly amazing site but I particularly adore the cloister and the image does not do any justice at all to the place. This is Kelvingrove: https://peoplemakeglasgow.com/images/Things_to_do/Museums_and_galleries/Kelvingrove-995.jpg. another place that has a special place in my heart. Because it's free, every time I am in Glasgow I go in.

The Hunterian Museum is one of those hidden gems that when I was still working in tourism I used to recommend to everyone visiting Glasgow. It's incredible and the medical section is my favourite.

The Korean restaurant they visit is called Bibimbap and it's a place I adore a lot. Glasgow has a Lego store and like Aelin I always want to spend my entire salary in it.

I adore Glasgow. Deeply and as Rowan said, it's a very underrated place. I worked in tourism for almost 9 years and 95% of the people wanted to go to Edinburgh and bypassed and ignored Glasgow altogether. It's a shame. Its people are amazing and the city has so, so much to offer. I am waiting for lockdown to be over so I can go back.

Ok, I finished playing tourist office for Glasgow.

I leave you to the chapter <3

(If there are typos, as usual I am sorry, but after a long day at work my brain does not cooperate anymore)

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

The following morning it was Aelin to be the first one up. Her stomach was grumbling loudly and she was starving. Slowly she disentangled herself from Rowan and went to the bathroom to get ready. She grabbed her phone and the forecast said another day of high temperatures so she dressed lightly. She was finishing getting ready when Rowan finally woke up. “I woke up before you for once.” She gloated. Rowan rolled on his back and stretched out his limbs “did you three sleep well?” She walked to the edge of the bed and sat beside him. He took her hand and kissed it, then sat up and kissed the bump and then Aelin “morning, my darlings.” “I slept beautifully. I was so tired that it did not take me long to pass out.” “And how do you feel this morning?” “I need to eat and then I am ready to explore.” She admitted while finishing packing her bag for the day. Rowan laughed “let me get dressed.”

Aelin sat on the bed and stared at him while he was getting changed “nice ass, Whitethorn.” In response he wiggled it and Aelin burst out in laughter “now get a move on. I am hungry.” “Fine.” He was ready in five minutes and together they walked downstairs for breakfast which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. Aelin had not been impressed by it and claimed that the option of continental breakfast was not exceptional so Rowan promised to take her to a nice place for a proper nice breakfast. Once they got back to their room Rowan prepared his backpack, which was now much lighter since all the snacks had disappeared. “Give me your hoodie.” “It’s a lovely day.” She protested. “Yes, Fireheart, but you have lived in Scotland long enough to know that it might not stay like that.” She gave him the hoodie and he packed it away, leaving Aelin with just her small bag. He grabbed their two water bottles “remind me to ask the hotel if they can fill these up for us.” Ten minutes later they were outside the hotel and Aelin was giddy “come on, old man. I want to explore.” Rowan took her for breakfast as promised and she was very satisfied with the place and declared that for the next few days that’s where they were going. Later on they arrived at Kelvingrove and entered the museum and noticed the sign saying that the following day they were going to close for a wedding reception. Aelin smiled at him and pointed at the sign “it’s the first time I go to a wedding reception inside a museum and a wedding inside a university. It’s so cool. I feel so special.” Inside the main hall they noticed the staff was busy at work setting up the tables and chairs for the following day. Aelin was stunned. The place was a dream with incredible architecture and at the end of the main hall there was an organ and Rowan explained to her that from time to time it was used and they had concerts. Rowan dragged her around the museum and they had great fun in the technology section were they fought off kids for a chance to play with the installations “they should stop hogging the displays, it’s not just for them.” Whispered Aelin. “Such a lovely maternal instinct.” “I want to play too.” She protested. Wondering around, Aelin had no idea where to look. There were plastic heads hanging from the ceiling in one of the halls, whereas in another one there was what she thought was a Spitfire. She had listened enough of Aedion’s talks about planes to have a general and very basic knowledge of some famous models. She took a photo and sent it to him. His reply came quickly and she laughed. “What?” “Aedion is jealous that I have a Spitfire hanging from my head.” “You need to tell him about two airshows we have every year in Scotland. The Red Arrows and the Typhoons are always there. I bet he’d love to be there.” “I’ll tell him straight away. He did three years in the Red Arrows. He probably performed in them.” “No way.” “Oh yeah, he is that awesome as a pilot.” It took them a few hours before they left the museum. Aelin loved it so much that Rowan had to literally drag her out with the excuse that there was so much more they had to see. They continued their walk inside Kelvingrove park and sat down for a while allowing Aelin to rest. “It’s amazing that there is such an incredible park near a university. I love it.” He pulled her close “On a sunny day I used to come and study in the park instead of the library. This area is my favourite part of Glasgow and it has some fantastic places where to eat.” “Are you okay for another walk or shall we sit a bit longer?”Aelin turned and leaned her back against him. Rowan, moved as well and placed his legs at each side of her and pulled Aelin against his chest. “Let’s relax a bit longer. It’s so nice around here.” “I was in student accommodation the first year,” he started telling her, “but then my friends and I found a flat just around the corner on Argyll st. I used to come for morning runs here, the park is very extensive.” “This is the only corner I have seen so far but it seems like a beautiful city.” She felt Rowan nod “It’s quite snubbed and very underrated. People tend to flock to Edinburgh and ignore Glasgow. Yes, it’s much more industrial, but that’s its heart and its identity. Glasgow was an industrial city famous for shipbuilding and, if you feel like it, we can walk a bit along the Clyde and you will see what I mean.” He kissed her ear “Its people are incredible and very friendly. It also has one of the best musical scenes in Scotland. I used to go to so many concerts.” “Did you regret going away?” “I…” he paused “I adore Glasgow. It has a special place in my heart, but I missed the islands. I could not see myself living in a big city no matter the advantages.” “You accent has changed a bit.” Rowan laughed hard “I ken. After four years of uni here I had lost my islands accent and I did sound like a proper weegie.” “A what?” “A weegie is someone fae Glasgow.” And in that moment she heard the heavy shift in his accent. Aelin finally sat back up “come on weegie, let’s go and see this uni of yours.” Rowan stood and pulled her to him for a kiss “it means a lot to share all of this with you.” She smiled “I am just trying to imagine a younger you in this environment.” He took her hand and slowly they started walking towards the university. “One step at a time, the road goes uphill.” Aelin had to stop a lot “drat, this is painful.” She said breathless. “Take your time.” Eventually they made it to the university main building and Aelin sat down on one of the benches in the main courtyard “Let me take a breath and then I will be ready to admire this beautiful place.” He kissed her head “all the time you need.” He stood in front of her “I have a few ideas for the rest of the day. It’s still quite early so we can do the uni. Then how do you feel about the Science centre? We can go there by public transport.” “In London I was obsessed with he national science museum. So, yeah, I am all for it.” “Then we can have a short walk along the Clyde just to show you and then take the bus back into town.” He brushed her hair “We can have lunch. Are you still craving Korean?” Aelin nodded vigorously. “Good, a restaurant might not cause any issues because I assume they know how to cook it. There is an incredible one in the centre.” “Done. What else?” “There are a few options and it all depends on how you feel.” “Unless I have to climb another mountain I am fine.” “So no Necropolis, then. We can stroll around Buchanan st. you can also do some shopping if you’d like. We can visit the merchant quarter which is quite charming and very central as well and if we are lucky we can catch a tour of Glasgow City chambers which is basically the HQ of Glasgow city council but it’s a spectacular building.” He offered “or we can go to Waterstones.” “Whitethorn, you are setting foot in a chain?” Aelin had quickly learned that Rowan was a great supporter of independent shops. Tesco was the only chain they used and just because it was handy for grocery shopping. He was a strong supporter of the community and hated mass produced stuff. “I know, but I love it. I must admit it’s a guilty pleasure. But it’s still books. Uh, I forgot, there is also a Lego store in one of the shopping centres.” “Ok, let’s visit the uni, then go to the science museum and take a walk along the river. Once we are in the centre we’ll have lunch and we go from there. But I definitely love the bookshop idea and the lego store.” “Good.” She gave him her hand and he took it and helped her get up “are you sure?” “Yes, I am rested enough.” They started walking along the uni quadrangles and Aelin had a feeling of being back in time. The building was magnificent and Rowan was playing cicerone and telling her all about every single building they were meeting. Then he stopped and placed his hands on her eyes. “What are you doing?” “Surprise.” He pushed and she started walking under his guidance. Once he was in the spot he wanted, he removed the hands and Aelin gasped. “Welcome to the cloisters.” The cloisters were nothing but low arches, but surrounded by the rest on the ancient building, they appeared like a wonderful and magical place. “This is gorgeous.” She walked around in a daze admiring he site “this is such a magnificent place where to get married.” Aelin took a few pictures and Rowan took a few of her while she was wandering around. She had the most amazing expression of delight in her face. She moved to him and folded her arms around him as much as the bump allowed it “dance with me.” He kissed her and his arms reached around her back and started swaying a little and humming a song in her ear. Luckily they were alone and they were not giving anyone a show. “It feels like the perfect place from a fantasy novel. I don’t know why.” “I always thought it like the main path to the house of an old wizard secretly living in the uni grounds. The kind of place where you would see people in dark cloaks strutting about or a couple of knights.” “I love that your mind wanders in the same places as mine and that we are weird together.” “I love my weirdo.” He said while making her twirl. Then he stopped and bowed to her “my Queen.” Aelin giggled “I really need to find you a sword. One of those fake ones people use for cosplays and such.” He grinned and took her hand “come, there is a place that I am positive you will adore.” She followed him and took a final look at the cloisters and tried to imagine it with a wedding happening under them. “Ok, there are steps unfortunately, but it will be worth it.” “Is it a collection of your pictures when you were a student. Naked ones perhaps?” Rowan laughed “no.” “That’s disappointing.” “It’s my favourite museum of all times. It’s called the Hunterian and there are two rooms that as a doctor I am positive you will adore.” At the top of the stairs Aelin stopped, breathless “I know it’s an historical building, but a friggin lift would be lovely.” He passed the water bottle to her “drink a little.” Once she was done they entered the museum and Aelin gasped. Rowan took her hand “Let’s go to the cool parts first then we’ll do the rest of the museum.” She followed him in silence. They reached a section and Aelin noticed it was all medical based. “This area is basically the history of medicine.” “No way.” Aelin started to walk around, amazed at what she was seeing “I did an elective on the history of medicine and it was fascinating.” “Ro, this is incredible.” Aelin left his hand and started wandering around in a daze “This is how it all started. How doctors started to discover how to cure diseases, although methods in the past might have been at times a bit unorthodox. This is it.” She kept walking along the cases admiring displays of ancient medical tools. This time it was Aelin’s time to be the guide and she was giving him a run through of what they were seeing. Rowan stared at her in fascination. Her face lit up in a joyful expression while she was admiring the collection. Once they finished the room, Rowan took her to the next surprise. “If you loved the other room, I have a feeling you will adore this one. Mr Hunter had an incredible collection of anatomical and pathological specimen and they were donated to the museum. The others are in the anatomy museum down the road.” “Can we go there, please?” “Of course. I have never been there so it will be a novelty for me too.” Aelin left him at the entrance and stepped into the room. Large glass cases stood all around and in the middle and inside she could see jars with formaldehyde and what she was positive were body parts. “Hunter was a pioneer anatomist and obstetrician. That’s why there are so many foetuses. He studied them and all the pathologies connected.” “Like all interns I had to take anatomy classes and we had to dissect cadavers. I was the only one who actually enjoyed those classes and never puked. I found it always so fascinating and for a while I had even contemplated becoming and pathologist and do post mortem and all that stuff.” “What made you change your mind?” “The rush that I would get in the A&E. I specialised in cardio thoracic and applied it to an emergency setting and I fell in love with it..” She kept walking “This collection is something incredible. Aelin stopped and stared at an heart without any blood in it. Rowan put his arms around her and his chin on her head. “A heart without blood looks so weird.” He commented. Aelin chuckled “I will never forget the day I held a beating human heart in my hands for the very first time.” “Tell me.” “I was assisting my mentor and he left me perform the surgery under his supervision. We knew there was damage but there was so much blood that it was impossible to see anything. So very gently I took the heart in my hand to try and find the damage. It was warm and beating, albeit slowly, against my palm. I literally had someone’s life in my hands.” “You are such a badass.” He joked. Aelin was explaining something to Rowan when a group of teenagers came beside them and the girls started to complain that the displays were disgusting. “What is this.” Asked one of the teens pointing at the jar with an empty heart that Aelin had just finished to admire.” “Looks like a lump of flesh.” Said one of them. “It’s a heart.” Aelin corrected him “That’s how a heart looks when there is no blood circulating.” She explained. “That is not a heart.” Aelin was on the verge of loosing her patience and Rowan placed a hand on her lower back “I am a doctor. I know how a heart looks like.” “It’s disgusting.” Aelin sighed and luckily the group moved away. “What?” She asked when she noticed Rowan’s stare “they ruined my enjoyment of this museum with their stupid comments.” “They were teenagers.” “So what? They were fucking stupid.” Rowan sighed and pulled her to him trying to calm her down “Come, let’s go and see the piece of a meteorite that landed near Glasgow.” They went to see the meteorite and then finished the rest of the museum but did not spend as much time on the displays as they did for the medical part. Aelin was fretting to go to the Anatomy museum so they headed out and Rowan took her there. If she had been impressed by the collection inside the Hunterian, Aelin had been definitely in love with the anatomy museum and Rowan allowed her to take all the time she wanted. Aelin also ended up chatting away with one of the staff members at the museum and Rowan had enjoyed seeing her so animated. “Did you had a nice chat?” He asked when she finally came back to him. “The guy is a retired doctor and we had the most fascinating conversation, sorry.” He kissed her gently “don’t apologise. It was actually quite amazing to see you in your element and there are conversation I can’t have with you because I don’t have the knowledge so it’s nice to see you so involved.” “I like our conversations,” she leaned forward and kissed him back “very much.” Once outside the university they went to take the underground again and they headed for the science centre. Once they arrived Aelin squealed “what is that?” She asked pointing at the metallic dome near the entrance. “That’s a cinema. They also have a planetarium.” “Shall we go?” “If they have a show while we are here, we can definitely do that.” “Come on.” Aelin took his hand and dragged him inside and she bought the tickets for both. They ended up spending a few hours inside the centre, playing with all the installations and once it was time they also did manage to catch a show inside the planetarium. “This was so fun. Who said that these places are just for kids?” Rowan threw an arm around her “can you walk a bit? I was thinking of taking you along the Clyde up to the squinty bridge and then catch a bus into town.” “Squinty?” “Yes, as in not straight. You will see why.” The day was hot and nice and Aelin lifted her head up to catch the sunshine and she felt amazing. They stopped in front of a massive crane. “This is the Finnieston crane.” Rowan added pointing at the massive construction “It’s the last vestige of Glasgow’s shipbuilding past. It’s quite iconic.” Aelin lifted her head. “It’s massive.” “It was used to load cargo on the ships. It had to be.” “I love it.” Then she looked around and noticed the bridge “Is that the squinty bridge?” Rowan nodded and they walked there and Aelin took a lot of photos. They walked to the bus stop and on the bus a lovely woman stood and offered her seat to Aelin since the bus was packed and Aelin was incredibly grateful. She wanted to keep exploring but her back was killing her and welcomed the chance to sit down. Rowan stood at her side and his hand brushed her hair “you are tired.” She shook her head “Please, let’s not go back to the hotel, I am having so much fun.” He sighed “are you hungry?” “Starving and really thinking about Korean food now.” He smiled back at her. After ten minutes he helped stand “That’s our stop.” Aelin turned to the woman “thank you so much for the seat.” The two got off the bus. The city centre was completely different from where they had been all morning. She could definitely tell they were in a busy city. “Let’s get you fed.” Rowan crossed the street and she noticed that the restaurant was just opposite them. They entered and asked for a table for two. Aelin looked up and noticed colourful umbrellas hanging from the ceiling. They sat at their table and Aelin went for the menu. She was ready to eat an elephant. She eyed some of the dishes the waiters were holding and she was tempted to steal one. They all looked so delicious. They ordered and then Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s “thank you for today. I loved all we did so far.” “I am glad you are having fun.” He squeezed the hand back “how are our two girls doing?” Aelin patted her bump “Just swimming about. I can feel them move and they kick from time to time which is a good sign.” He winked at her and in that instant the waiter arrived with their food and Aelin almost howled in joy “Finally.” “It looks much better than what I did.” “Yours was really good too.” His face saddened “So good that made you unwell.” “Ro, we don’t know. Stop moping. I loved it.” They went back to eating and Aelin was enjoying the food greatly “I think the only thing that I miss in the islands it’s the choice of ethnic restaurants. That’s my only issue.” Rowan chuckled “I agree. I was so used to the massive variety here in Glasgow that when I got back home it took me a while to get used to it. That’s why I learned to cook.” “And you are amazing at it. Just less veggies.” Rowan laughed “no chance.” “Spoilsport.” They finished eating and hand in hand Rowan led Aelin through the street of the city centre and they ended up in the merchant quarter and Aelin took in the magnificent architecture. “There is a big shopping centre, fancy doing some shopping?” “A bit.” He kissed her cheek “Let’s go.” They walked a short distance and eventually arrived at the Buchanan galleries. “You don’t like shopping centres…” “Shhh.” He said kissing the back of her head while on the escalator “There is the lego shop in here. Plus it makes you happy, so I don’t care.” They reached the first floor and they started walking and Aelin stopped when she noticed a baby shop “Ro, look.” She took his hand and dragged him inside “We don’t have anything for the twins. I know we are waiting for the bigger items until we are in the new house but look…” and she picked up a onesie “isn’t this adorable?” Rowan was too busy playing with a soft toy in the shape of an elf. With a big smile he turned to her “what about this?” Aelin stared at that giant of a man holding a soft toy with a tenderness that almost made her cry. Aelin went to grab a basket “make it two” she went browsing around the shop and her heart melted at watching Rowan picking up clothes for their girls. He came back with two tiny bathrobes that had cute ears and a dragon’s back ridge “I am so in love with you right now.” Aelin moved to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek while Rowan replied with a big toothy grin. She was positive they could get stuff for the girls at home but that shop had the cutest stuff and Aelin had every intention to splurge a nice whack of money on their daughters. She wandered around and got some essential stuff while Rowan was still looking at tiny dresses. He went to her with a big smile and two lovely dresses in his hands “I know they will outgrow them very quickly, but look at these.” His voice was the one of a father already madly in love with his daughters. He was holding two lovely dresses in green. “Add to the basket.” Was Aelin’s response at the clothes. Rowan took the basket from her hands which was slowly getting fuller and fuller “I’ll carry it.” “We have a green and blue theme going on here.” Added Aelin looking at the range of stuff in their basket. “They are lovely colours.” “I agree. And I am not buying pink just because they are girls. It’s a horrible colour.” Eventually they made it to the till. “You have a nice selection here.” Said the woman behind the counter “And two of each.” “Yeah, twins.” Added Aelin patting her bump. Rowan was about to pay but she stopped him “this is on me.” He reluctantly put his wallet away. Rowan grabbed the two bags and they left the shop, and Aelin was beaming and placed an arm around his waist. Then she spotted the lego store and Rowan knew he had lost her. She was inside the shop and was looking at the different set “Ro, am I crazy if I say that I want to spend my entire salary in here?” Rowan laughed “no you are not, but remember that we have to get back to the hotel and we already have two bags full of stuff.” “Look.” She pointed at a plastic container in the middle where you could create your own lego figurine. “Let’s build ourselves out of lego.” Aelin did manage to find the face, the hair and the dress she liked and she went for the queen style. Once she was finished she started creating a Lysandra and then an Aedion. And while she had already created three figurines, Rowan was still creating his. He had gone for the warrior look and also added a sword to his little character. “I love it.” She said, then placed the four figurines in the plastic container to protect them. She went to pay and he finally managed to drag her out and she sat on one of the benches exhausted. “We should go back to the hotel.” He commented when he noticed how tired she looked. “I agree. I don’t think I can walk any longer and my back is killing me.” “Sit five minutes then we’ll go and take the bus back and I am going to explain the situation to the hotel and ask if they let us order in.” His hand brushed her hair “we can stay in bed, watch tv and enjoy the evening in peace.” Then he looked at her exhausted face “ Or, I have a better idea. The station is right behind us. We’ll take a taxi.” “I love you.” Slowly they made their way to the station and got a taxi and once inside Aelin sighed relieved. She had tried to be brave but she knew she could not fool him. Rowan had been keeping an eye on her all day and she was positive he had noticed her exhaustion. They arrived at the hotel and Rowan grabbed all the bags “go upstairs, I’ll be with you in a minute.” She nodded and left him. Back in the room she removed her trainers with a sigh of relief and then changed into her pyjama and sat down in bed. It was only five in the evening and she felt bad at being back in the hotel already but she was wiped. Rowan arrived ten minutes later, he dropped the bags on the corner of the room and sat beside her “tell me what you fancy and I’ll order dinner later. I explained to the hotel your situation and they are okay. They offered to let us one of the table downstairs but I explained that you were probably already camped in bed, with little chance to move you again.” She kissed him “can we have Japanese?” “You can’t have sushi, you know?” He added, browsing for a place on his phone. “I know, smartass.” She lightly punched his shoulder. The food arrived an hour later and Aelin ate in bed, with Rowan sitting on the armchair beside the bed. “This is the perfect ending to a lovely day. I am sorry we had to cut it short.” She apologised. “Hey…” he said, grabbing her hand “I am impressed that you lasted that long. “I wanted to see more.” He placed his food on the nightstand and sat beside her in bed, pulling Aelin to his side “We’ll come back with the twins and do much more.” “Promise?” He kissed her “Pinky promise.” And he gave her his pinky, remembering the day they did that in his shop. It just felt so long ago. Once done eating, Rowan cleared the containers and changed into his pyjama and joined her in bed. Aelin was looking at the photos of the day on her phone. She flipped through them and found one of Rowan she liked “I guess I found my new home screen picture.” He leaned over and noticed his photo “When did you take it?” “When you were not looking. And I love it.” Aelin leaned against him and she grabbed his hand and moved it on the bump and sighed. “What?” “I was thinking.” “That’s very dangerous.” He chuckled. “Look how much difference a year made. A year ago I was just an annoying customer that you hated and kicked out of the shop. And now we are in this situation.” She said pointing at the bump “and a part of me is still scared. With Chaol we had no kids, yes it was a mess but at least we had no kids to suffer in midst of everything. If—“ He stopped her with a kiss “No ifs. No.” He kissed her again “I am going to be cheesy, so be prepared.” And Aelin laughed at the comment. “You are it for me. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I know that all I want is to spend it with you and our girls. It’s all I ask for. I want a family and I did not realise just how much until you told me you were pregnant. Fine, it happened earlier than probably both of us had planned, but I don’t care. We are in our late thirties, we both have jobs, we can afford a family.” Aelin caressed his face. “I lost track of what I was saying.” He grabbed her hand a pushed it against his cheek “Oh yes, I am a boring monogamist old man who feels very fulfilled at the idea of having a family with the woman he loves.” Aelin started crying “You can’t…” she sobbed “You can’t say things like that to a pregnant woman.” Rowan laughed and hugged her close “I am a sappy old fart when I am in the right mood.” “So sappy.” She added with a wet laugh while Rowan kissed her head “but I have a feeling you will be a super dad. Loving and caring.” “I can only try.” “We’ll try… together.” “To whatever end.” He added, kissing her.

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp​

[fallinnflower]

pretty baby

jeonghan x reader (established relationship, non-idol!au)

a/n: this fic is a part of the intimacy anthology project. 

warnings: mentions of insecurity, jealousy, petty coworkers with snide remarks, and implied mature content

Being with someone like Yoon Jeonghan wasn't easy. His ethereally good looks could make it impossible to feel like you were up to his standards — or, rather, the standards imposed upon you by being with someone as beautiful as him. Pretty people were supposed to be with other pretty people, right? 

Although nobody ever said anything explicitly, there were always the subtle jabs, the little comments meant to stick like thorns in your side — things you tried to ignore but piled up over time. Airing out your dirty laundry was never your strong suit, and so you just pushed it all further into a darkened corner, hoping one day it would just disappear. 

Of course, things don't just vanish into thin air, not even emotions. In fact, if anything, they halve like cells and reproduce, over and over and over until the mole hill is a mountain you can't even attempt to move. 

Usually, you can convince yourself things are fine, you can get over your insecurities and issues on your own. 

And then, there are the days where everything just feels, well, yucky. When no amount of your favorite things can keep a smile on your face, and faking one feels like far too much work. Those days that creep up on you and bury you under their weight. 

It's the end of a week that's felt incredibly long, with seemingly unending gray skies and a workload that just keeps piling up so that it feels like it won't ever get done. 

The day started with the zipper on your favorite pair of jeans busting, leaving you scrambling to get ready in time for work. Throughout the day you feel sluggish and yet hyper-aware of every little flaw about you — the frizz of your hair, the discoloration on your face, everything. And you can't shake the feeling that other people are noticing it, too, picking you apart behind your back. 

Your worst fears come to life around lunchtime, when one of your coworkers rolls her desk chair over to your side. 

“Y/N, who’s this guy on your Instagram? He’s stunning.” Her motive is instantly clear to you, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you force yourself to smile politely at her.

“Ah, that’s my boyfriend, Jeonghan.” You swear you see anger flash in her eyes for a second before she goes back to looking at your post. She surveys the photos you’d posted of Jeonghan on your date this past weekend with a mixture of jealousy and clear admiration for your boyfriend’s good looks. On a good day, you might feel yourself swelling with pride at someone noticing his ethereally good looks — hell, you’d probably be boasting — but today her words only make you feel smaller. 

A couple of your coworkers, returning from the break room with their lunches and fresh coffees in hand, stop by your desk to see what the fuss is about, peering over the shoulders of your coworker in her rolling chair. Even though it’s your desk, you somehow feel like an intruder as your three officemates gather in your space. One of them lifts their gaze from the phone, eyes slightly narrowed and gaze sharp as they very obviously give you a once-over. You feel as though you’re frozen solid beneath their gaze, your grip on the pen in your hand tightening like your throat. The third coworker doesn’t even bother to look up at you,

“Wow, I had no idea your boyfriend was so attractive, Y/N. How’d you get so lucky, hm?” The one with the sharp gaze cocks their head to the side, leaning their weight back onto one foot, hip jutting out sharply into your space.

“Yeah, Y/N, how did you get so lucky?” 

You can feel your face heating up, and wonder if you’ve misheard them — did they mean to put the emphasis on you? You lick your lips nervously and let out a laugh, smoothing down your hair self-consciously. Suddenly, you can’t bear to look at them anymore, and so you shrug and turn back to your paperwork.

“I’m not sure,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I suppose it’s just that — luck.” You’re aware of the three pairs of eyes on you, but you don’t dare look up, even as you hear one of them huff slightly in annoyance at your answer.

“Maybe you should share some of that luck with the rest of us, then,” someone laughs, and you feel the sharpness in each of their words. On any other day, you’d probably just square your shoulders and joke right back — you’re accustomed to the petty games some of your coworkers enjoy playing, having worked here long enough — but today you feel as though your skin is no thicker than a rubber balloon, and their barbed words have you deflating rapidly.

“Maybe,” you reply, far too quietly. You don’t bother looking up at them, forcing yourself to keep filling in the blanks on your paperwork, trying to keep the shaking of your hand from being noticeable. Eventually, probably tired of your meek responses, the trio finally leaves; as you hear the chair finally rolling away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Your phone lights up with a reminder that you should take your lunch break, and with it comes Jeonghan’s smiling face on your lockscreen. His hair slightly ruffled by the wind, his eyes curved into happy half moons as he holds his coffee in one hand and your own hand in the other, looking back at you as you walked down the path framed with cherry blossoms. His hair had been blond then, and the pinks and whites behind him made him seem all the more ethereal. 

You stare at the screen until the notification disappears, plunging the image into blackness, and bite down hard onto your bottom lip. Your words from earlier echo in your ears, leaving your heart feeling heavier by the second.

I suppose it’s just that — luck. 

After all, why else would someone as beautiful as Jeonghan want to be with someone as plain and difficult as you?

You can’t find another reason, much less so when you spend far too long standing in front of the sink rubbing the soap on your hands as you stare into your own face in the mirror. You don’t think you’ve ever hated the thought of being lucky more in your life.

By the time you drag yourself home, you're quite aware that you've had far better days. You feel miserable, your head stuck up in those rain clouds overhead, trudging up the stairs and into your apartment. 

You're so caught up in your own downward spiral that you hardly notice the second pair of shoes by the door, only fully realizing Jeonghan is home when you hear the sound of sizzling from the kitchen. 

"Baby?" Jeonghan calls, his delicate voice carrying over the sound of his cooking straight to you. You feel like your tongue is lead in your mouth as you hang your raincoat on the coat rack by the door,

"Hey."

There must be something in the tone of your voice, despite how hard you try to hide it, that alerts Jeonghan to a change in your mood, because you find him peering out of the kitchen to catch the first sight of you he can. His brows are puckered in concern, and somehow seeing him — hair out of place, standing in a hot kitchen and still looking impeccable — makes you feel like you're going to cry. You tighten your jaw, trying to will the tears to go back where they came from, but before you can Jeonghan has turned off the burner. 

"What's wrong?" He walks out of the kitchen to meet you in the hallway, wrapping you tenderly in his embrace; softly, as though you're delicate, breakable. You wonder if that's how you look to him now. 

You shake your head, looking down. 

"Nothing," you say, snaking your arms up around his shoulders. For a moment, you allow yourself to melt into his arms, but it only causes your chest to tighten further. As you feel the tears building you pull away from Jeonghan, letting out a watery chuckle. 

"Just— work, you know?" Jeonghan lets you step away, but not far from him. His hands continue to seek you out, one ghosting across your forehead and down the side of your face to brush any stray hairs away that may be hiding your expression from him. It isn’t fully a lie, but you know that he can read you like a book, and lying while looking into his eyes is a skill you don’t think you’ll e

"Are you sure?" The softness of his tone makes the tears well up in your eyes, and Jeonghan puts an arm around your waist. He leads you to the couch, sitting you down  and grabbing the box of tissues from the coffee table just in time for the waterworks. 

To his credit, he does just let you cry it out for a bit, which you hadn't quite realized you needed so badly. He opens his arms to you, offering you his shoulder to quite literally cry on until you finally feel capable of talking. 

"What's been going on outside of work?" He asks delicately, rubbing comforting circles into your back. You avert your gaze with a sniffle, thinking on the knot of emotions currently residing in your stomach. It suddenly feels impossible to even get to the root of it all, but you clear your throaty and try. 

"I just feel down." He hums in response, his hand still on your back. 

"What about?"

There's a long pause during which you try to think of how to say what exactly is at the core of what's wrong. In the end, all you can manage is a feeble,

"Myself."

Jeonghan seems almost equally as upset as you, but far more confused than he was when you first came home. 

"Why do you feel bad about yourself? Did someone say something? Was it someone at work?" You shake your head rapidly, but it only takes Jeonghan giving you a particularly searching look to finally get you to spit out what's really on your mind. You sigh,

“I mean, not directly, but… they saw my latest Instagram post and they were asking all these questions about you, and us…” He tilts his head to the side, brows puckered in confusion.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“God, Jeonghan— it's because you're pretty, okay? More than pretty, honestly, I can't believe a person can look like you, and— and you're with me, of all people, and sometimes I just don’t know why— a-and it's just been a terrible week”— You force yourself to take a deep breath, blinking rapidly to try and force the tears away. Jeonghan gently reaches for you, pushing your hair away from your face and tipping your chin up to look into your eyes. 

"Ah," Jeonghan says, sighs, and you feel the pain in his eyes when they meet yours, as he realizes you're being honest. 

"What do I say to make this better...? I love you so much." As he gently murmurs his own thoughts aloud, he swipes the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, catching the tears preemptively. Eventually, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, causing your eyes to flutter shut. 

"My pretty baby," he says. "The prettiest in the world. Do you know what I love about you?"

You shake your head, feeling physically incapable of speaking. Jeonghan only smiles, bringing one of your hands up to his lips. 

"I love your hands"— kiss.

"And your arms, your shoulders, your neck," he says, pressing a kiss to each part of your body he mentions, ghosting his lips against your skin. You can't help but giggle when he kisses a slightly ticklish spot on your cheek, and Jeonghan immediately breaks out into a broad grin. 

"I love your smile, and your nose — I love your whole face"— before you can react Jeonghan has taken your face in his hands and begun peppering your skin with kisses, leaving you feeling flushed and giddy. He presses one final, lingering kiss to your lips before surveying you with heavy-lidded eyes. 

"Should I continue?" Jeonghan asks, and you let out another laugh as you shake your head. 

"No, no, I feel much better now."

"Mm, good," he says, smoothing down your hair with a smile. "Now how about I run a nice hot bath for you, and once we've worked up an appetite I can finish dinner, hm?" You feel your face warming up again at the mischievous glimmer in his eye, and you gently push at his shoulder. 

"Aish, don't be dirty," you scold, and he gives you his most innocent look. 

"Dirty? What are you implying, Y/N? I just said I'd make dinner once we got hungry." 

"Just go run my bath!" You look away, pushing at Jeonghan to try and get him off the couch as he laughs at your antics. 

"There's my baby," he says, pinching your cheeks gently as he stands up. Once he has your attention his grip slackens, leaving him merely cradling your face in his hands as he gazes at you fondly. He leans in and presses one last kiss to your lips, sweet and slow and heart-warming in the best of ways. You can't help but smile, giddy with his love when he pulls away. He lets out a contented sigh at the brightness of your expression and gently taps his finger against the tip of your nose,

"My pretty, pretty baby, who’s the prettiest when they’re happy. How did I get so lucky?" 

And as he says the words you really, truly feel just as he describes.

[suttttton]

The Sum of Which (Will Never Make a Whole)

Plot twist: I actually wrote two timsasha angst fics for @bookish-bi-christian for the TMA Valentine’s Day exchange. Happy Valentine’s Day, part 2!

(AO3 link in the source!)

~*~*~*~*~

The wallpaper on Tim’s phone is still a picture of Sasha, from a trip to the beach they took together one weekend. In the photo, Sasha is on Tim’s back, her arms tightly crossed around his shoulders. She’s wearing a big sunhat and grinning.

Except it isn’t her in the photo, is it? It’s the thing that killed her.

Tim opens his phone’s camera roll. It’s full of pictures of her, of her and Tim. They were always together, up until the worm attack. Best friends. Love interests.

He scrolls through, anger and grief running through him in equal measure. Sasha had loved trivia nights, had loved half-planned adventures to new places, had loved binge watching murder mystery movies when she was sick. Tim has so many photos of her, and—she isn’t in any of them. Not anymore.

He finds a photo of himself, asleep in what he recognizes as Sasha’s bedroom. Sasha had clearly taken it, and Tim is struck by the softness of the moment, the quiet vulnerability of falling asleep in someone else’s presence.

The next photo had clearly once been a selfie. Tim is still asleep in the background, but in the corner of the shot is Sasha’s grinning face, very close to the camera. A photo that Sasha would take for the sole purpose of sending to Tim to tease him.

But it isn’t Sasha in the photo now.

Tim feels suddenly furious. All these memories he’d shared with Sasha, soft and vulnerable moments together, and every single one is now populated with the face of the thing that killed her.

Tim deletes the photo. Then he deletes all the others, too, every photo that Sasha has been erased from.

When it’s done, he doesn’t feel any better.

***

Jon was always bad at hiding his emotions, and that doesn’t change when things start to go to hell. If anything, he gets worse at it, dragging himself around the office like an injured puppy.

From the moment he steps out of his office, Jon is already telegraphing his nervousness so clearly it could probably be seen from space. He’s got something clutched in his hands, and Tim wonders for a moment where he’s headed, before Jon starts clearly making his way towards Tim’s desk, looking at the floor the whole way.

It annoys Tim, more than anything else. What right does he have, acting like he expects Tim to hurt him? He’s the one who trapped them all down here. He’s the one that got Sasha—

“What?” he snaps, when Jon reaches his desk and stops, still looking more at the floor than at Tim.

“I—here,” Jon says, and now Tim can see that what he’s got in his hands is a photograph. A polaroid. He hands it to Tim, and Tim stares at it for a long moment. It’s a photo of Jon, younger and unscarred. He’s scowling, and standing next to him is a woman Tim doesn’t recognize. She’s taller than Jon by a good few inches, and her arm is around his shoulders. She’s black, her hair falling around her shoulders in long braids. She’s grinning from behind orange glasses that take up practically half her face.

The photo is labeled, Sasha and Jon, 2012.

Tim wills himself to recognize her, to see anything familiar in her face. But there’s nothing. When he thinks of Sasha, the only image that comes to mind is of that—thing.

Tim’s eyes are burning, and he blinks heavily. He looks up, wanting to ask—But Jon is already halfway back across the room, fleeing back to his office.

“Jon!” Tim says, and Jon turns, still nervous, his shoulders hunched.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find it sooner,” Jon starts before Tim can say anything else. “I-I’ve been looking everywhere, but I thought it might have gotten lost when we moved down here, and I didn’t—I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in—in case I couldn’t find it.” He swallows. “That’s her, though.” Jon’s voice is thick, and Tim realizes that this is also Jon’s first time seeing the picture, his first time seeing what Sasha actually looked like.

Jon had also been Sasha’s friend.

“Do you have any other photos?” Tim asks, suddenly desperate, his voice rising with hope.

“I—No, I’m sorry,” Jon says, and the hope sinks until he continues, “That’s the only polaroid I have. It—Everything else just has the, the Not-Them, so—”

“But you do have pictures, right?” Tim says. “You didn’t—delete them?”

Jon stares at Tim for a long moment, blinking. “I—No, I didn’t. I made a locked folder for them, so I wouldn’t—But I couldn’t bring myself to—”

“Show me?” Tim asks, and his voice sounds too much, too desperate.

But Jon just nods, slowly approaching. Tim makes room, and Jon pulls up a chair beside him and opens his phone to the right folder.  

Jon starts scrolling through the pictures quickly, and looking over his shoulder, Tim can see that Sasha isn’t in any of them. For a moment, he’s confused. Didn’t Jon say this folder was specifically for photos of Sasha?

Then Jon says, “Sorry, I—I don’t take a lot of pictures. Sasha liked to send me—most of these she took, so she isn’t in a lot of them.”

“Can I?” he asks, his voice shaky. He reaches for Jon’s phone, and Jon lets him take it. He goes back to the beginning, imagining the woman in the polaroid grinning behind the camera.

The first few pictures are of Jon, much younger-looking, back in research. He has an identical expression in all of them, scowling at the camera. But he’s wearing different clothes in each one, and Tim can’t help but smile, thinking of Sasha harassing Jon, day after day.

There’s a pair of photos that were clearly taken in quick succession. In the first one, Jon is looking at the camera with his usual scowl. In the second, he’s turned back to his work, but he’s got his middle finger raised.

It’s captioned, “does your grandmother know you use that kind of language???” and Tim lets out a surprised laugh before moving on.

There are a few more photos of Jon in research, and then one of Jon and Sasha in a dark bar. Sasha’s head is on Jon’s shoulder, and he’s smiling although he looks a little on-edge. Tim looks at the polaroid, imagines that woman in the picture instead.

He keeps scrolling, until he gets to a photo of himself, standing near the door to the research department, talking to someone just outside. It’s slightly blurry, like it was taken in a hurry, and it’s captioned, “new guy is cute!!!”

Tim laughs at that, raising an eyebrow at Jon.

“I told her to stop texting me during work hours,” Jon says, his cheeks slightly dark.

Tim’s not planning to push it any further, until he swipes to the next picture, which was clearly taken from Jon’s desk. It shows Tim and Sasha talking, Tim now seated at the empty desk beside her, just starting to get settled in. It’s captioned, “Who did you pay off to get him to sit next to you?”

Tim looks at Jon, who is now blushing furiously and steadfastly avoiding eye contact. “Was this before or after you told her to stop texting you?” he asked, his voice teasing.

Jon stumbles a bit, and it’s—nice. Warm. This kind of teasing used to happen so easily between them, and now—Well.

Tim looks back at the photo, trying to picture it. Sitting at his desk in research with the woman in the polaroid. With Sasha. For a moment, it seems to stir some memory in his mind, but it isn’t strong. He probably just imagined it. Wishful thinking.

The next picture is of him, his first day on the job. He’s smiling, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s something. He remembers this.

Everything still hurt from losing Danny, and he was dead-set on finding his answers in the Magnus Institute’s collection. And then he’d met Sasha, and she was friendly and radiant and, for the first time in months, he’d felt something other than sadness and numb anger. He looks down at the polaroid again, imagines seeing that smile for the first time.

She’d smiled like that when she’d taken the picture, saying, “It’s your first day, we have to remember it fondly forever!”

And it had seemed unfair, to get her hopes up that he was a decent person to be around. He wasn’t, not anymore. So he’d said, “I’m not really here to make friends.” And god, that sounded awful, didn’t it? He wanted to discourage her from pursuing friendship with him, not make her hate him.

But she hadn’t even blinked. “Oh good,” she said. “Because, I swear, the people who work here are the most annoying people I’ve ever met in my life. They are only tolerable as sources of gossip, and if I knew you were trying to make friends with any of them, I’d have to never speak to you again.”

And Tim couldn’t help it; he’d laughed at that. It was mean, but she’d delivered it in such an earnest way, and then she’d winked, and… he’d fallen a little bit in love.

He keeps scrolling. There are lots of photos of Tim. Photos of Tim and Jon, with teasing captions from Sasha that make Tim laugh for their wit. And photos of Tim and Sasha, with captions from Jon that make Tim laugh just for the way that the Jon sitting beside him is so clearly embarrassed.

And there are photos of the three of them together, at work, getting lunch. There’s one of the three of them at some dark bar, Sasha’s arms around both of their shoulders.

And then there’s a photo of Tim, asleep on the break room couch, his head thrown back, mouth hanging open in the most unattractive way possible. It’s captioned, “he looks so peaceful”.

And it isn’t like the photo from Sasha’s bed. It’s more casual, more teasing. But it draws up those same emotions, those same memories. Vulnerable moments now populated with the face of a stranger.

Sasha is gone. The woman who liked to take embarrassing pictures, who held the camera and smiled while Tim snored away beside her, is gone. She only exists anymore in one single polaroid, taken before Tim even knew her.

His eyes start to blur with wetness, and he sets Jon’s phone down, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. His breathing’s gone all sniffly, and he can feel Jon’s awkward shifting beside him.

“… Tim?” Jon says, after a moment. “Are you alright?” As if the answer to that question isn’t fucking obvious. There’s a moment of silence, and then Tim lets out a shuddering breath as Jon’s thin arms wrap around him.

Tim wants to shake it off, to yell at him. They aren’t friends anymore, and that’s Jon’s fault, not his. But… They had been friends. When Sasha was alive, they were friends, and he misses Jon. And he misses Sasha.

So, just for now, he leans into Jon, and cries.

[hollandspiderling]

Pillow Talk

Summary: Pillow Talk | n. Sweet and inviting talk that really has no point. Doesn’t have to be sexual nor follow anything sexual; intimate talk between lovers while lying in bed. 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (Uni!AU) 

Warning: None, just plain old fluff.

Word Count: ~3.5k 

Author’s Note: Here is another one-shot that I couldn’t help myself with writing. I found it in one of my old archives on a website I used to write on and wanted to revamp it. Also imagining just being all soft and cute with Tom makes my heart melt, hope you guys enjoy reading this! xoxo, Astrid. 

‘Another tiring day done…’

You smiled to yourself as you put away the last dish in the cupboard before stretching your arms. The faint sound of the shower could be heard as you leisurely made your way towards the master bedroom.  A contented sigh escaped your lips as you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for accomplishing the goal that you’ve had for a while. Ever since you and Tom decided to move in together, you promised yourself that you’d become a better cook for him. When you guys first started dating during your first year of university, you weren’t that great of a cook but being the gentleman that he was, Tom always gave you high praises for your first attempts. Three years later and with his request of moving in, you took it upon yourself to sign up for cooking classes in your spare time as well as watching YouTube videos to follow. And once you saw the twinkle in his eye and the way he ate your food with much gusto that night, you knew that your hard work finally paid off.

As you entered your shared bedroom, you untied your hair that was in a bun and ran your fingers through the tangles. Music could be faintly heard in the bathroom as Tom continued taking a shower and you hummed along to the tune. You did your usual nightly facial routine before changing into a loose V-neck and a pair of Tom’s boxers. A giggle escaped your lips as you listened to your boyfriend sing along to Umbrella by Rihanna. You rolled your eyes as you made sure your things were ready for work the next day thinking to yourself, ‘As much as he says he hates Umbrella ever since he did the lip sync, that boy still loves to sing along to that song.’ Slipping underneath the white covers, you plugged in your phone into its charger as you heard the shower stop along with his music playing from his phone. The door opened and his familiar scent of Old Spice filled the bedroom as he rustled around for clothes.

Setting down your phone on the bedside table, you turned around and smiled at him. Tucking your hands underneath the pillow you were lying on; you admired your boyfriend’s toned body. His boxers hung low to the point where you could see the slight dent of the dimples on his back as well as how toned the muscles of his back were due to constantly working out. He dried the curls you loved to run your hands through with the towel that was hanging around his neck and you didn’t flinch when he turned around to find you staring at him. Tom smirked lightly as he playfully winked at you.

“Admiring what you see?”

You laughed and threw his pillow at him. “What can I say? You’ve been getting more toned every time I see you. I can’t help but admire the progress.”

“You have to thank Harrison for asking me to gym with him. The guy never knows when to let me breathe.” Tom chuckled as he slipped on a pair of sweats.

“Remind me the next time we all come together for dinner. I’ll definitely have to give him my thanks for making sure you are in tip-top shape.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, darling? I wasn’t at my best shape, before?” he joked, tossing his pillow that fell onto the floor back at you. He gave you a pout and you playfully shook your head.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Tommy. I’ll love you in any shape or form. But that V-line is getting more and more defined every time I see you.” You teased and playfully wriggled your eyebrows at him. You laughed as you hugged the pillow he threw at you. Tom quirked an eyebrow at you as he stopped drying his hair and said, “Y/F/N, keep looking at me like that and you will be getting tickled once I’m done here. Never ever give me such a cringey face again.”

Jokingly mimicking back what he said to you, you laughed and motioned for him to sit on the bed you shared before getting up from your position. You grabbed the towel and began to softly finish drying his hair for him. Tom closed his eyes and leaned into your warmth. A contented sigh left his lips as he turned his head and softly kissed the inside of your wrist before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You are such a dork, love; I sometimes catch myself asking why I’m with you.” He jokingly murmured.

You tugged on his hair lightly and smiled in victory as you saw him wince. “Well I guess you’re stuck with a dork who is the only one that is able to nerd out with you. You’re stuck with me babe.”

He smiled at your words and melted inside when you pecked his cheek and patted his shoulder. Tom would never get tired of your company and it’s these times that you guys had to yourselves that kept him going when things at work got tough. A moment of comfortable silence fell upon you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence. You peppered his face in kisses before moving away and lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Alright, now finish up because I’m getting lonely here.” You giggled.

Tom groaned as he lazily got off the bed and began to make his way back to the bathroom. He turned around and winked at you. “Don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back love.”

“Don’t worry, I’m more than comfy here on this bed. But if you do take too long, then I might just knock out before you.”

You shook your head in amusement as you heard him laugh and stuck his tongue out at you before disappearing into the bathroom. Falling onto your back, you stared at the ceiling as you waited for Tom to finish getting ready for bed. You still couldn’t believe that your relationship was still going strong despite all that you’ve been through. Your friends and the people around the both of you claimed that you guys wouldn’t make it due to your busy schedules because a lot of couples would often not make it through their first year of university. Your orbits never met unless it was with your friends on the weekends when everyone was free, but other than due to being in two different majors, it sometimes got hard to make time for each other. But in the end, you proved everyone wrong by going strong all throughout your college careers and finally moved in together after landing stable jobs.

Four years and it still feels like we just began dating…

Your eyes traveled to the picture that was sitting on your dresser. It was a photo that the two of you took when Tom surprised you with a trip to London on your third-year anniversary. You were in the midst of laughing as you held onto your cardigan and his arm was slung over your shoulder. You smiled to yourself as you remembered that you were walking along the bridge across the river when all of a sudden Tom surprised you from behind before kissing your temple and took the picture. On the back of it, Tom had written a heartfelt message to you once it was developed, promising that he’d never hurt you and one day make you his wife.

“Falling asleep on me, already?”

You looked over your shoulder to find Tom smiling down at you as he joined you under the covers. You shook your head and nodded towards the photo you were looking at.

“Nah, I was reminiscing our London trip.”

Tom’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing you closer to him. Spooning her, he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and hummed in happiness as he remembered your trip as well. You closed your eyes as you relaxed in his embrace, both of you wrapped up in your own world.

“It was a great trip, wasn’t it? I feel like that was what solidified everything between us.”

You felt him nip your neck lightly and you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a div.”

He let out a husky laugh and said, “I wasn’t referring to our last night, but besides that wonderful event and constantly hearing my name from you, it was the most that we got to spend time with each other. It was a whole week, just the two of us, with no one to disrupt our time together.”

You hummed in agreement before turning over and snuggling deeper into his embrace. Your legs became entangled with each other as you laid your head in the crook of his neck. You traced the outline of his collarbone and he began to play with your hair. A comfortable silence fell onto you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence after a long day. It was true that your London trip was the most that you spent time together. Your schedules were demanding, and you were only to spend one to two days together when it was during the holidays. The only reason why you kept so strong with Tom was because of your constant communication with and faith in each other.

“My favorite part was seeing your flustered expression when I dragged you with me when I was bikini shopping.” You murmured as you smiled to yourself.

Your mind flashed back to when you realized that while you were packing in haste, you had forgotten to pack a swimsuit. After a little bit of convincing, you dragged Tom out with you because he also ended up needing to get some stuff on the way anyways. Once you reached the store, Tom’s expression will forever be kept in your mind. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights with his eyes wide and constantly moving around when he followed behind you. Tom had his hand covering the lower half of his face when they were in the store and the light tint of red that could be seen on his cheeks made him so adorable to you.

He pouted slightly as he remembered and poked your cheek. “The only person that I’ll admire is you and seeing all those kinds of revealing clothing with other women in the store, I didn’t know how to act.”

Tapping his nose, you chuckled and said, “Well you looked quite adorable, just like an innocent child.”

“I can’t help it if my mother raised me right.”

“She definitely raised a wonderful gentleman.”

Tom smiled as he warmly looked down at you. Pecking you on the lips lightly Tom tightened his grip around you. “God, what did I do in my previous life to deserve you?”

Moving onto his back, he pulled you on top of him. You rested your palms on his chest as you looked down at him. Tucking a couple strands behind your ear, he gave you a tender gaze.

“I’m serious Y/N, I hope you always remember you’re the best thing that has happened to me. I’m going to make sure I marry you.”

“You said those exact words when we were at London. You even wrote it on the back of the picture.”

“I did, didn’t I? When we do get married, what kind of wedding are you hoping for?”

“That is if I actually do end up marrying you, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

Tom faked a gasp and immediately flipped you both over. He huffed as he caged you with both of his arms on either side of your head. “Don’t be so mean, sweetheart. No matter what, you’re going to be stuck with me because you’ve stolen my heart since day one.”

“You’re such a cheeseball.” You murmured as you caressed his face.

Leaning into your touch, he hummed in agreement. “You’re the only one that can make me feel like this, darling. But I’m serious though, what is your dream wedding?”

You pursed your lips in thought as you wracked your brain for an answer. With how busy your life was, you never really thought about what you wanted for in a wedding. Now that you were twenty-four, it did make sense that it should be something you should start thinking about.  

“I guess maybe…a garden wedding? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about this. But I do know that I don’t really want it to be that grand of a wedding. I just want family and close friends to be attending.”

“A garden wedding? I can see that considering how much you love roses.”

You chuckled as he pecked your lips and rolled onto his back. Turning onto your side to face him, you comfortably set your head onto his arm and smiled. “I’ve loved them ever since you gave one to me when you asked me out.”

“I was pretty smooth, wasn’t I?”

You scrunched up your nose in thought as he looked at you from the corner of his eye before staring at the ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a look before saying, “Right, so hesitating in front of me for a good couple of minutes before saying everything in one quick go was smooth. I was so caught off guard when you suddenly pushed the flower into my hands. But…it was pretty sweet that our class’s heartthrob actually wanted me as his girlfriend.”

“Of course, I wanted you. Didn’t you know you were one of the most highly sought girls at that time?”

You shook your head and shrugged. “How could I pay attention to that when a certain someone was always trying to steal my attention? As much as I wanted to hide from all the attention you brought along, everything worked out, in the end, didn’t it?”

“Exactly. Now let’s fast forward a bit, if we were to start a family, how many kids would you want?”

“Two, but I really hope it’s a boy first and then a girl.”

Tom smiled in amusement and leaned in to peck your forehead. “You didn’t hesitate with that question, sweetheart.”

“Ironic isn’t it? I didn’t know what I wanted for a wedding, but I knew exactly how many kids I wanted.” You replied and looked up at him before you both laughed.

He shook his head and began to trace random patterns on your arm. “I think it’s cute of you. I’m assuming you want a boy first so we can raise him up to be a gentleman and a protector for our future little girl.”

You nodded and smiled warmly, “Growing up, it was only me and my older sister. But despite how much I love her and look up to her, there was always this part of me that wished to have an older brother to protect me and be close with.”

“Well, now you have your own protector who’s willing to stay by your side forever.”

You softly gazed at him and pecked his jawline. “Of course, and I’ll always be thankful to have you in my life.”

Tom wriggled his eyebrows playfully and asked, “What about their names?”

“I’m not sure, whenever I think about baby names, I always tend to change my mind. So, I was thinking of just naming them when they’re born, y’know?”

“Understandable. Just imagine Y/N, we’ll have our own house and two little kids constantly running around. It’d be paradise, don’t you think?”

You snuggled closer to him and hummed in agreement. “Everything will finally fall into place, Tommy. But I’m fine with the here and now as well. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible.”

You felt Tom chuckle and tenderly kissed your forehead. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

Smiling slightly you savored the warm feeling of his kiss and said, “I guess when it’s two in the morning, your cheesiness begins to rub off me, babe.”

“Are you getting sleepy?”

You shook your head and said, “Now it’s my turn. You never told me or maybe I don’t remember. What got you to fall for me in the first place?”

“You probably won’t even remember what I’m going to tell you because our first moment together was really short.”

You gave him a questionable look and Tom smiled down at you. “It was actually before we officially met each other.”

He pulled the blanket over you guys and changed your position, so you were laying your head on his chest. As he remembered your first encounter, he lovingly ran his fingers along your back.

“It was the day where they welcomed all the freshmen to recognize their achievement of getting in and for choosing our university. You were with your friends and I was with mine, but I managed to bump into you when we were getting lunch in front of the rec center. At first, I thought you were going to go off on me for not watching where I was going, but you simply brushed it off and gave me a smile that I’d never forget. Before I had the chance to introduce myself, Harrison had popped up behind me and dragged me away.”

You tried remembering the memory and your eyes widened in realization. “That was you?!”

Tom laughed and nodded. “I guess I was lucky when Haz grew a crush on one of your friends or else our groups wouldn’t have intermixed and we wouldn’t have met.”

“I still can’t believe you have all that mush inside of you, Tommy. You’re the physical representation of a guy who fell in love at first sight.”

“I only show these sides of me to those who deserve it and you most definitely do, because you’re mine. You’re the only woman who managed to make me feel attracted to and fall for you Y/N Holland.”

“Y/N Holland?”

“What? I can’t get an early start of calling you, my wife?”

You laughed as he began to pepper your face with kisses, and you managed to hold his face in your grasp.

“It has a nice ring to it… I like it.” You softly replied and planted a kiss on his nose.

“It’s going to be your surname in the future, so you better get used to it.” He smiled.

Meeting his tender gaze, you couldn’t help but kiss him. You both smiled against each other’s lips as Tom brought you even closer to him. Letting go of your kiss, Tom rested his forehead against yours and caressed your cheek.

“Y/F/N, I love you.”

“I love you too, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

His gaze softened as he watched you sleepily rub your eyes. “We should get some sleep, baby girl.”

You whined as you clung to him and said, “But I want to keep talking…we haven’t gotten a moment like this in a while.”

“We’re living together, love. We’ll have many more moments like this, but it looks like you’re going to fall asleep any second now.”

“Ugh I hate it when you’re right.”

Tom laughed and kissed your pout before bringing the blanket up to your chin. “Well I love it when you get adorable like this.”

“Good night, Tommy…” she murmured.

He watched as you curled up against his side and smiled sleepily. Swiping a stray strand of hair away from your face, Tom leaned down and lovingly kissed your temple.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

Smiling to himself, he watched his angel fall asleep. Once your breathing slowed down, he carefully moved onto his back and turned attention towards his bedside table. As best as he could without waking you up, Tom opened the top drawer and took out a small satin pouch. Setting it on top of his chest, he opened it up and took out the velvet container. He looked at you once more and bit his bottom lip. With his right hand, he opened up the small box and admired the silver diamond ring that sat inside.

At the moment, you each had a ring on your pointer finger. It was a promise ring that he had gotten for you both on your second-year anniversary and now that he felt like the moment was approaching soon, Tom had to be prepared. The following day was the day he was going to set his plan in action, and he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every fiber in his body knew that you were the one. His boys were all ready to help and your friends were already growing in excitement when he told them the week before. Now with you in his arms, the time will come.

Soon, he’ll ask the love of his life to marry him. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

[cravingmarvel]

Apartment - Epilogue

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, sarcasm as always Summary:  You just moved from Germany to New York, working as an editor at a newspaper. So what happens when you find out your favourite actor lives in the apartment across from yours? And how will people react when you share your story on your Blog dedicated to him? What will you make of this situation? A/N: Wow here we are... the last of the last... I can’t believe that after 2 YEARS I managed to finish this series completely... I apologize for the time it took, but I just had no idea how to write it and in retrospect.. I’m glad I waited this long. A HUGE thank you to @buckisthatyou​ for helping me with this!!! I love you!!! 

Anyway... I hope you guys love this as much as I loved writing this and I’ll see you at the end of the chapter :)

MASTERLIST

Apartment – Epilogue

I carried the last of my boxes up the stairs, weighted down a little by the contents of it. This one got lost on its way here and I’ve been desperately trying not to cry over it. It’s been almost three months since Sebastian and I moved in together, but this little fucker had to get lost.

As I pushed the door open with my shoulder the light that flooded into the room filled me with butterflies. Just seeing the living room full of life and personality put the biggest smile on my face. I placed the box next to the bookshelf and started to unpack the books inside. I moved some of the cacti out of the way, they are definitely taking over the place.

I felt a hand on my hip and jumped slightly.

“Hey, how’s it coming along?” I turned to see Sebastian.

“Very nicely, but I do think we need to calm down about the cacti.” I pouted and he kissed my cheek.

“Hm, maybe.” I caught the cheeky smile as he walked away.

The move was easy, finding an apartment wasn’t. We came across a beautiful, two-story apartment in the heart of Manhattan that was pretty close to my new workplace. After my move back to New York, we went straight to looking for a place to share. He said he wanted it to be right in the heart of the city, but close enough to central park so our future kids could enjoy some greenery.

I laughed at him, but the thought still filled me with butterflies.  I was excited to share my life with him, even if that came with a price. Some people just didn’t like seeing him with me on his arm and they made a point in showing it. Just a few weeks after I came back, we made an appearance at some award show, the photos I was tagged in on Instagram were mostly nice, but a lot weren’t so. My dress was too tight, my hair done terribly, and I felt worse because I made those choices. It was me to blame.

Despite the weight I felt from those comments, I knew I could step away from it whenever I pleased. I don’t have to put up with it. No one does.

With the shelve decorated to my liking, the apartment was almost finished, there were a few pictures that I wanted to hang on the walls, but that could wait.

 Two Years Later

 “We’re having spaghetti tonight.” Sebastian called from the kitchen; he knew I’d love it. (The spaghetti, not him calling from the kitchen.)

The chill of the night falling over New York put me in the mood to get comfy. I climbed up the stairs to our shared bedroom, crossing the room to the closet. I decided to change into my pyjamas, a decision I did not regret as I felt the soft fabric on my skin. I investigated the mirror to admire my husky onesie. I look cosy as fuck and I feel cosy as fuck.

The table hasn’t been set when I came down to the dining room and Sebastian noticed my confusion. “We’re having dinner outside if you don’t mind.” He filled to plates with food and gave me a quick kiss as he walked towards the balcony. I followed him out to discover the table beautifully set with flowers and fairy lights.

“Oh wow. This is so fancy.” I said while sitting down opposite Sebastian.

“Thank you, I actually put a lot of effort into this. By the way, cute outfit.” I looked down to the fluffiness that I was wearing and in the reflection of the glass next to me, I could see how weird I looked. “Yeah thanks.”

The husky and the Prince.

We soon devoured our food and just sat and laughed while drinking an alarming amount of wine. New York has never looked so pretty; this might just be because Sebastian is the foreground of the scenery in front of me.

Suddenly, Sebastian stood up from his seat. His face lit up with a smile on his face as he slowly went down on one knee. I was just about to register what was happening, my jaw slightly dropping.

“Y/n.” Sebastian held my hand in his, a red velvet box in the other. “I never knew this day would come so soon. I always thought I’d be fifty years old, still looking for the woman who I’m going to marry. And then you came along. Standing at my door with your ridiculous robe.”

I chucked, tears swelling up in my eyes.

“So, will you, Y/n, do me the honour and marry me?”

I stared at him, the tears now rolling down my face. “Yes.” I breathed out.

He slipped the ring on my finger, a diamond reflecting a million rainbows in the light of the sunset, hovering on the horizon of New York. And it dawned on me.

I just got engaged to Sebastian Stan, and I’m wearing a husky onesie.

 -

 Sebastian decided it would be good for me and his sanity to hire a wedding planner, even though I told him I could handle it on my own. I hate having someone else step on my toes and interfere with my plans but listened to him anyway and hired someone who could help me organize the day and everything around it.

While I still had a whole month to prepare the final details, I was sure we covered everything necessary that involved the venue, decorations, dress and every other detail I could think of.

I shuffled my shoes from my feet and walked over to the kitchen making myself a nice cup of coffee. I got a text from Sebastian telling me that he’ll be home by eleven, filming dragged on until then unfortunately, but it gave me some quiet time to get back to going through my planner trying to catch any mistakes I made.

I’ve never really been one to dream of the perfect wedding, but since starting this project of mine, I felt my need for perfectionism take over.

I grabbed the little folder, my laptop and my phone walking to the couch. I snuggled into a blanket, putting my mug on the coffee table. After a few hours of flipping through pages and finding no mistakes at all, which was usually the case, I grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over the Tumblr icon. I hesitantly tapped it logging into my account.

A thing I occasionally did was search my own name. I know I shouldn’t, but something vile within me couldn’t stay away from the opinions of others, strangers, online. I scrolled through endless amounts of posts about myself, cringing and cry laughing at some of the posts. The memes were the best part about it, some people were just too funny. I came across some fanfiction about me… yes fanfiction… about me, skimming over the words. They weren’t bad… it was just a little strange reading it myself, but who am I to judge? I wrote fanfiction about the same man I am engaged to once a few moons ago. Ok more like a year ago, but my point still stands. I can’t judge.

But all fun had to come to an end when I stumbled upon posts about me that just weren’t so nice to look at. Some poking fun at my body, the way it looked in a certain outfit I wore while I was out with Sebastian, some straight up telling me how old I looked and some saying that I’m just not the right fit for him. I couldn’t say they hurt, but a little part of me, the very insecure one, believed them. But something I haven’t come across yet popped up right after all that was a post about me being a fan.

I was slightly intrigued, pondering in my head whether I wanted to read it or not. I could shut my phone off right now, I could step away from this and breathe, but something pulled me in, sucked me right in.

I couldn’t say the post was disgusting nor was it far away from the truth the further I read. The person articulating themselves very well. My stomach turned and twisted.

-I’m just asking myself how she fell in love with Sebastian? How can she know for sure that what she feels for him is actually love? If I got together with him, I would ask myself this. Even if it hurts, I would still question my feelings towards him. Is it actually love, or just the fan inside writing its own fanfiction? And let’s take this even further, they’re getting married… what if she realizes that after all, what she was feeling wasn’t love, it was just the fangirl inside, fulfilling her own fanfiction?-

What if… I’m not in love, but rather satisfying the fangirl within me.

 -

 I awoke to the soft morning light peeking through the white thin curtains, a weight on my middle pulling me closer to the body laying next to me. Sebastian laid on his stomach, his arm draped over my back, his hand gripping my waist as he exhaled deeply. He was in a deep slumber, but still keeping me at his side which made it impossible to move away from him.

I worked hard on removing his arm from my body to climb off of the bed, looking back at Sebastian as he shifted in the bed, rolling over to his back. I walked over to the bathroom connected to the bedroom to proceed my morning routine. I took off my baggy shirt and underwear, stepping into the shower to wash off the sweat of the night. Sebastian surely knows how to keep me up to a time where I should be sleeping.

I felt my muscles relax under the warm water, my hands gently massaging my body with fruit scented soap.

I left the shower, wrapping a towel around me, to turn my attention to my skincare routine, washing my face, putting on my serum and moisturizing my face. The door opened to Sebastian walking in, hugging me from behind, kissing my shoulder.

“Good morning, love.” He said, sleep sill in his voice. Sebastian stepped into the shower and I changed back into the comfortable shirt.

I made breakfast for the both of us before I had to get to work, Sebastian had a day off and I envied him for it.

We ate breakfast and I headed to work, but not before Sebastian pulled me into his arms, kissing me passionately. He took my left hand admiring the diamond ring on my finger. “I love you.” He said and I was out the door.

I arrived at work, dropping my bag on the desk, since the summer holidays were on their way, so are the people wanting to get away with their children and spouses alike. I turned my computer on preparing myself for the eight hours of recommending hotels, flights and things to do at their destination.

My boss, Linda, walked up to me an apologetic look on her face. I braced myself for what’s to come.

“Good morning, Y/n.” She sat down in front of my desk, a sandwich on a plate on her lap.

“Morning. What’s on the menu for today? Anything special?”

Linda laughed, dropping her head. “Y/n, I have to ask a favour. I know your wedding and honeymoon are on their way, but there was an incident. By the way, how’s the planning and your husband to be?”

“Good… good, I have everything set, nothing seems to be missing but a couple thousand dollars in Sebastian’s wallet.” Linda found this one funnier, throwing her head back, almost dropping her sandwich on the floor. “What’s the incident?”

“You know how Beck has a habit of finding ways to destroy her leg?”

I nodded, calling back to the many times Beck has had issues in keeping her leg in one piece. Not that she’s breaking it, rather bruising the shit out of it.” “Yeah, I do.”

“Well she done did it again.” We laughed in union. It became an inside joke by now. “I need you to fly to London for three weeks to inspect and review this hotel right in the heart of the city. It’s under a new owner and quite a few things have changed, I could ask Annie, but she’ll need to find someone to watch her kid. Don’t worry, you’ll be back in time for your wedding, which by the way, I can’t wait for. I already have my dress!”

I stared at her for a second. A trip to London was the last thing I thought I’d be doing right now, especially with the wedding just four weeks away. I pondered and the idea jumped around in my head. It would be kind of nice, getting out of the city, get my head in the game. Maybe think about my intentions of marrying Sebastian… try to find out if the fangirl inside is responsibe or not.

“Ok, sure, why not.” I smiled, Linda clapping her hands together, her Sandwich threatening to fall once again.

 -

 I arrived at home, taking my shoes off along with my coat. Linda gave me a folder with all the necessary information about the trip and all the points I needed to check out.

The only person that I now needed to confront was Sebastian.

I walked into the living room, seeing him sprawled across the couch, wrapped in a blanket. “Hey, babe.” I said while approaching him. I sat down and laid his head on my lap. I leaned down, kissing his lips tenderly.

“How was work?” He asked, closing his eyes.

“Good. Y’know, a lot of people preparing for the summer.” I pondered for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Seb? I need to tell you something.”

He sat up immediately, his eyes looking onto mine desperately. He took my hands into his. I knew he was worried.

“I- I accepted a job to go to London for three weeks, to inspect a hotel, I know this is very close to our wedding date, but Linda said I was the only choice next to Annie, and she would have to look for someone to take care of her child.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. First thing.”

Sebastian exhaled deeply, looking away from me. “Feels like running to me.”

“Sebastian…” I squeezed his hands in mine. “I’m not running, nor and I going to stand you up at the altar, I just… have to figure some stuff out.

“So, you are running? What’s there to figure out?” “Did I propose too soon, should we postpone the wedding?”

It was me this time, exhaling, looking away from him. “I’m not sure if the feelings I have for you are my own or just an imagination from the fan I was- still am!” I looked at Sebastian, pleading for him to understand. “I don’t want to leave on bad terms or move the wedding to another day. I just have to figure out if I’m going to hurt you.”  

His gaze finally met mine and I knew. I knew he didn’t understand the way I hoped he would.

“Y/n, I know that you love me and There’s nothing that changes that whether you were or still are a fan of me, I don’t give a shit. But if this is what you need to steer your mind into the right direction and lay your worries to rest, then do it.” Sebastian leaned in, kissing me softly. “I’ll be waiting for you, no matter what.”

Tears threated to fall down my cheeks, I didn’t know if this would resolve the storm within me, but I knew this was good, for both me and Sebastian.

We went to bed, holding each other tightly, tangled between the sheets, his hands on my body feverishly roaming every inch.

 -

 I packed my suitcase with my necessities, suddenly dreading my departure. I got a text telling me that my ride to the airport was downstairs.

As I stood at the door, Sebastian pulled me into a tight hug, whispering in my ear over and over how much he loves me and misses me already. I looked up to him cupping his cheeks with my hands pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

“I love you, Sebastian.” I couldn’t cry right now, but I’m sure he knew I wanted to.

He kissed the back of my left hand, his gaze lingering on the ring. “Come back and marry me, Y/n. I want to be your husband more than I wanted to be anything else.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

With that, I was out of the door, into the elevator. Mentally preparing myself.

 London, here I come!

-

A/N pt.2: YES!! THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL TO THIS MASTERPIECE!! I have thought about it, consulted with @buckisthatyou​ about it and have come to the conclusion that I need to write it. And because we all want to know what it’s called:

House. It will be called house and no one can stop me.

Anyway, since I already wrote a Thank You post I will keep it short and sweet. 

Thank you all for waiting for me to write this. If i had written it earlier, I probably would've not come up with a sequel. So everything has a purpose... right?

Thank you for reading and I will see you in

House!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.13

Keith came out the shower doing his best drowned rat expression to date. With the towel around his shoulders, Lance wondered if Keith was protecting his neck, or preventing his shirt from soaking through. Having already showered, Lance had a glass of blood wine in one hand, and his phone in the other, dinner plans having gone out the window while he was busy playing with Keith

“Do you want the good news, or the bad news?”

Keith crossed his arms, Lance having to stomp down his compulsion to go dry the younger males hair off with a towel

“What?”

“Well, remember my friends from the other night, yeah, Hunk’s going to be here in about 20 minutes to pick us up”

“I’m not going”

“You don’t even know where we’re headed to”

“I don’t care. We’re not going”

It didn’t escape Lance that “I” had turned to “we”. He figured the hunter wouldn’t trust him to go out alone, and if he hadn’t been totally awol from his normal life he would have been turning down the invitation for some serious self pampering time

“Sorry, but you see, when my friends want to hang out, I don’t turn them down. You need to go get changed into something more bar appropriate”

“We’re not going. We haven’t finished talking. You turned me, and I need to know more”

With the number of times Keith had accused him, Lance felt like he’d know Keith far longer than a week and a bit... God, he couldn’t even remember if it had been a week, Keith’s idiocy was spreading

“And I hear I was thinking you’d finally gotten a clue. We’re going, because I’m invited. I’ll go on my own if I have to, but I had the feeling you’d freak out and think your prey was running away”

Keith’s emotions flickered across his face, obviously arguing mentally about the fact he couldn’t say no, and nor did he have the power to stop Lance

“Fine, but only so I can make sure you don’t turn anyone else. If you so much look like you’re going to bite someone, I will decapitate you”

“Excellent. I think I should have something in wardrobe that’ll fit. I’m guessing you like black on black”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“You’re wearing a black onesie. Some people might be into that, but at a bar, that suit’s a crime against fashion”

“It’s not made to be fashionable”

“No, it’s made so you can be all “bump in the night”. Blargh. Go change already”

Keith told Lance at least several times that wearing his clothes had been forced upon him. Lance wasn’t sure why, when Keith had chosen his own wardrobe out of what was available. In ripped skinny legged black jeans and a black silk button up, Keith looked passable. Lance chalking up the weird sensation of wanting to pat Keith’s butt to the fact he too was recovering from being poisoned. Keith was soooo not his type, never mind the fact the guy was a freakin’ human, Keith hated him with a passion. Nope. Keith didn’t look good in his clothes, nor would he look better out of them. Lance was just... going through a lot. That was it. He was not getting suckered in by those piercing purple eyes, or the way Keith’s collarbones peaked out of the shirt. The blood in his body had enough to deal with, without it deciding it needed to make a trip down south over absolutely nothing.

Leaving Blue feeding her face on wet food, Lance headed for the door, back tracking to grab Keith by the wrist and drag him along behind him. Keith was starting to object all over again, but Lance wasn’t having it. If he had to socialise around drunks, then the punishment should be shared by Keith for being so goddamn hot and stupid... mostly stupid with a dash of stupidly hot sprinkled on top, kind of like unwanted chilli flakes. Lance was feeling pretty confident in his own outfit, blue jeans, white shirts and cropped tan jacket, but Keith had one upped him without even trying. Maybe Keith would get laid and lose some of his prickliness? The anger loaf needed to let that anger go, and turn into that beautiful emo butterfly hidden inside his cocoon of douchery. Towing Keith out the house, Lance left the alarm off in case Shiro came back. Explaining Keith’s presence seemed a hard enough challenge as it was, explaining why Shiro was breaking into his house... that was a whole other kettle of fish.

*

Lance had been lied too. There was no bar, they were in fact in Platt, running a rehearsal of Hunk’s date with Shay on the weekend. Picking up Pidge, she’d thrown herself into the back of the car, hand narrowly missing Lance’s junk in her rush. Oogling Keith, Pidge had elbowed him as she buckled herself in, all Lance could do was offer a shrug. Hunk’d already been shocked enough for the three of them, Lance lying his arse off saying Keith had offered to stay a few days and help Lance take photos of his house as he was thinking of repainting. The photos were for the online lab thingo where you could upload your rooms and pick colours there. Yep, those were the words he used too, technology was forever changing and he openly admitted he missed the days before social media... other than the cat videos and memes.

With Keith having no cash, Lance paid. Choosing gold class tickets meant the food was included, and the seating private. The hunter looked spooked by human interaction, Lance ordering steak dinners for the pair of them because damn if he wasn’t in the mood for some budget dead cow. Buying the biggest coke they had, Lance enjoyed the fact that the mix ratio was whack with more syrup than soda water, the straw ending up chewed on before they’d even made it into the screening room. Lance wasn’t sure about the movie selection but with Hunk and Shay going to see the one rom-com playing, Lance steered the group away from buying tickets for it so his bestie and Shay could enjoy seeing it for the first together.

Taking their seats, Lance wound up between Pidge and Keith. Pidge immediately started playing with the chair remote, and Keith sighed in annoyance. Leaning in, Lance kind of felt bad that they hadn’t wound up at a bar. Keith would have been able to have a few drinks and kick back, then find someone to take to the bathroom and work that aggression out. Just because he hadn’t done the do, didn’t mean Keith wasn’t a seasoned professional

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know we were going to see a movie”

“Whatever”

“I’m serious. I didn’t know. I would have dressed warmer if I did, and would have insisted you put a jacket on”

“I’m not a kid”

“I know you’re not. I just feel bad. I was hoping you’d be able to relax a little...”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore”

“Okay, but I really am sorry”

When dinner came out, Keith poked at until he finally gave in, pretty much wolfing it down, half an hour later Lance had to excuse himself to the bathroom, finding Keith gone when he returned. Taking his seat beside Pidge, Lance leaned in

“What happened to Keith?”

“He said he needed the bathroom. Didn’t you see him?”

“No. How long ago did he leave?”

“Not long after you... Dude, what’s your deal with him?”

“My what?”

“Your deal. What’s he still doing here?”

“I asked him to take some photos of the house for me”

Pidge crossed her arms

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing”

“Who said I’m lying?”

“You did. I know you, and I know when you’re lying. Something’s off with Keith, and you’re acting really weird”

“I’m not acting weird”

“Are you two dating? Is that why you’re being weird? You feel like you can’t talk to us...”

“No! No, no, no, no, no... ewww. No. I’m not dating him, he’s a stranger”

“A stranger you bring to a movie night with your best friends”

“It was either leave him the house or bring him with me”

“So he’s staying with you, like, staying staying?”

“Only for tonight. Shiro’s going to pick him up. I’m thinking of repainting the living room closer to its original colours, and I figured having a fresh set of photos would work”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

Pidge’s words went right over his head, before looping back and slapping him in the face. Pidge had had her feathers ruffled by Keith “taking” what would have been her “job”

“Because, my Pidgeon legged friend, you would start hunting for ghosts in my house, then try to steal Blue as you left”

“You’re dodging the question”

“I’m not dodging the question. I only asked him because he’s a professional. You’re still my number one tech guru. I’m sorry I’ve been sick and haven’t been able to hang out, but I’ve missed my gremlin. No one can replace my little anger muffin”

“You’re a wanker”

“So I’ve been told”

“Has your cold when passed? You still look pale”

“Yep. Clean bill of health from the doctor. Just the usual take it easy for the next few days, fluids, sleep, platonic dates with your best friends, the usual post cold instructions”

“I’m still shocked you’ve got Keith staying with you”

“I’m shocked too. But I keep telling myself it’s only for a few days and soon it’ll all be over”

“Dude, he was wearing your clothes”

“And?”

“Lance, you know I’d never judge you for your sexuality...”

Lance laughed, him and Keith simply too ridiculous to even go there

“It’s definitely not like that”

“Are you sure? I mean... I’ve never seen you like this...”

“What? Invaded by a photographer?”

“No, not like that... I mean... like, he’s wearing your clothes, staying at your house... it’s not like you”

“Keith didn’t have any clothes that weren’t a crime against fashion, or acceptable at a bar, which I totally thought we were going to, thanks to a certain someone. Nah, he’s just staying a couple of days then Shiro is going to pick him back up and that’s that”

“Something still feels off”

“Pidge, I promise I’m okay, and I promise Keith and I aren’t in some whirlwind romance, or whatever that brain of yours has thought up. I’m actually pretty sure he hates me, if that makes you feel any better”

“Nope. It just makes it weirder... Should we be worried that he hasn’t come back?”

“Nah, I’ll go see if I can find him. Dude’s got the social aptitude of a rockmelon. He probably peopled himself out and is having a sulk”

“If you say so. Now go away, I’ve already missed part of this riveting plot”

The plot wasn’t riveting. It was badly thought through and designed for the masses. Like most things...

Keith wasn’t in the cinemas entrance hall, nor the bathroom, Lance heading outside to search for him. Not at the front of the cinema, Lance was starting to get pretty annoyed with his missing idiot. The last place left to check was the parking lot, where he found said idiot cornered by three men. Great... just... great. He took his eyes off him for two minutes and he’d already wandered off into trouble. Walking over to stand just short of the three strangers, Lance eyes Keith who had his arms crossed, scowling at the group

“Heya, fellas. Something wrong here?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You know, just a concerned citizen. You’ve got my friend cornered, so if you could just see it in your hearts to let him go...”

Lance stepped back, escaping being hit in the face as the stranger bared his teeth. What the fuck?! Was Keith dense as fuck? Or did he think he had the skill to take on three idiots

“Your wallet or you life”

“Seeing you’re getting neither, I suggest you run along home”

“What did you say to me?!”

They hadn’t even had to go to bar to find trash. Lance sighed as he pulled out his phone

“Well, we are living in the age of technology. This miraculous little device lets me call the police when people like you start messing with people”

“You won’t get the chance”

“We’ll see”

Avoiding being attacked was laughable. His attackers had like zero grace, they must instead rely on numbers to look “intimidating”. Each swing that didn’t connect made them madder, their “leader” pulling out a small blade, as Lance danced around them. Putting the phone to his ear, he made as if he was calling the police and not his home phone

“I’m going to kill you...”

Raising his pointer to his lips, Lance hushed the man

“Didn’t anyone teach you its rude to interrupt someone on a phone call?”

If someone was watching, the would have found the way the three morons were falling over each other hilarious

“Yes, hi, I’d like to report an attempted robbery at the front of Platt Pictures. There’s three guys that have bailed up two men...”

Dropping down to dodge the punch thrown at his face, Lance swept the leg of the leader, snatching his blade out his hand as the man’s eyes widened for the millisecond as he fell

“Yep. There still here... I’ll wait. You guys should probably run if you’re going to. Cops are on their way”

The look in the leaders eyes was something feral, spitting like it made him cool, the man wiped his mouth

“I’ll get you for this”

“I’ll be waiting, but I won’t be holding my breath. Also, I’ll be keeping hold of this blade of yours. Evidence and all that. It’s amazing this fingerprint technology...”

“Forget it, lets scram!”

When the leaders two goons split, the man pushed himself up, running off like the coward he was. Lance giving them a little wave as they did. Ending the call to his house, Lance slipped his phone back in his pocket, before holding out the blade to Keith

“Here, a souvenir of our time together”

“I could have handled that”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Never said you couldn’t. Anyway, take it. You seem to like knives and I’ve got no use for it”

Keith frowned at the offered knife

“But the police...”

“Aren’t coming. Let’s just say I have a job where I need to keep my name squeaky clean”

“What the hell?!”

Lance sighed at Keith

“What? Do you want me to call them? I totally can, I remember all their facial features”

“You didn’t do me a favour...”

“Never said I did. Oh, you totally skipped out on movie night. Do I want to ask why you’re not inside pretending to be scared like everyone else”

“The movie was shit”

“Finally, something we can agree on. But, Hunk and Pidge are trying to be friendly with you, so leaving is kind of a dick move”

“They don’t even like me”

“They might if you’re not out here hiding. Also, Pidge thinks we’re dating, so come on darling, we’ve got a movie to finish”

Lance took Keith by the wrist. Socialising wasn’t about to kill him

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dragging Keith’s along, Lance spoke as they walked

“Well, that’s a long story. You see a long time ago a little boy was turned into a vampire. He grew up to become a lawyer, living as human like as he could, as he tried his hardest to give back to humanity so no other little kids got hurt. He never fed from a single person, took a lover, or like harmed any one more than what you just saw... You could say things were going well for him and he was happy. That was until two hunters crashed into his little corner of the world. He was forced to drink blood from an actual person for the first time in his life. Which upset him, because he felt he’d lost a little of the humanity he wanted. Now he’s trying his hardest for a stranger who wants him dead, and refuses to listen to him, because he’s some disgusting, revolting, beast that deserves that’s not even fit to be on the bottom of your shoe”

“That’s just it, why are you trying?”

“I don’t know, and that’s what’s getting under my skin”

Dragging Keith the whole back to their seats, they got there in time for the heroic ending where the main character saved the day. Hunk was sobbing, Pidge had gotten herself some skittles and was attempting to catch them in her mouth as she made a mess around her. Seeing they’d mostly missed the film, he and Keith remained standing there until the credits started and Pidge called “time to bail”. Ditching holding Keith’s wrist, because he’d honestly forgotten he had, Lance wrapped his arm around Hunk’s waist

“Good movie?”

“She was so brave...”

“I know, man”

Pidge cuddled up to his side until Lance looped his other arm around her

“What did you think?”

“It sucked. There were so many plot holes. I want my money back”

“Aw, never mind Pidgeon. It’s over now”

“That’s 133 minutes of my life I am never going to get back. You and Keith are arseholes. You missed most of the film!”

“Are we arseholes, or are you cranky we escaped?”

“You’re both definitely arseholes”

“Now, to be fair, Keith hit his people limit of the day. You’d never know, for all his conversational skills, but he’s a lot like you, Pidgeroonie. He gets very tired of people fast, and cannot do the brain without the coffee”

“That’s because people fucking suck!”

Pidge’s loudness caused the people walking near them to stare, staring was awkward forever one involved, Lance didn’t want the night to end awkwardly

“Okay, that’s enough exposure to the public for one night. Why don’t we grab something and head home? I’ll even pay”

“Yay! I want a super sized slushie. I should have thought of it sooner. I wonder if that slushie place with the weird flavours is still open”

Hunk groaned

“You’re making me do city driving?”

“Dude, relax. It’s night time, meaning there aren’t as many people on the road. Consider it practice for your date”

Hunk blushed, Lance laughing happily

“Don’t be mean to him, I’ll drive. Pidge, you’re in directions. Hunk, music, naturally, Keith, you get to sit in the back with Pidge and make sure she doesn’t get up too much mischief”

“What? Why?”

“Because I said so”

*

Keith opted to stay in the car and be a buzz killer as the three of them rushed to the slushie store. Minutes from closing, they were those annoying customers that all retail staff dread. Pidge was in heaven as she eyed the walls of flavour, Lance paying and limiting her to two without added energy drink. Hunk went for bubblegum flavour, Lance for strawberry. Keith hadn’t come in, but part of Lance didn’t want him feeling left out. With all the scowling faces Keith had pulled since they’d met, lemon was ruled out as a potential flavour, instead he went for iced coffee labeled as being lactose free. Keith might not be the nicest person in the world, but that didn’t mean Lance was going to be a douche over something Keith couldn’t control. He knew the man liked coffee, so it was the most logical choice. Pidge ended up unable to decide. One abomination made of orange, pineapple and mango, the second strawberry, bubblegum and coke. Making sure he’d left the woman behind the counter a very generous tip, Lance ushered Pidge and Hunk back to Hunk’s car, a little proud of himself when he got Keith’s door open with his foot in the door handle. Glaring up at him, Lance beamed in pride

“I got you one”

“I don’t need one”

“Yes, you did. It’s iced coffee, lactose free. Consider it an apology for venting on you earlier, if you need an excuse to take it”

Handing Keith the drink, Keith eyed it in suspicion

“Dude, it’s fine. Legit went from the machine to the cup then out to you. Pinky swear and all that. If you don’t want to drink it, I won’t get offended. I just thought it’d be nice to include you”

“Whatever. Thanks and stuff”

“You’re welcome. Let’s get you back home away from all these people so you can take a nap”

Keith’s expression soured, Lance was sure he was going to have the iced coffee slushy thrown at him, so shut the door quickly. Keith wouldn’t be a big enough douche to ruin Hunk’s interior. Hunk was a human, someone Keith was supposed to protect, meaning hurting his feelings had to go against whatever code hunters were bound to. Being caught up in everything going on, Matt came to his mind as Lance opened the driver’s door, his heart sinking. He hadn’t thought about Matt all night. Pidge had probably spent the whole night missing her brother and wishing it was him at the movies with them instead of Keith. He didn’t want to seem down, but it was hard to perk himself up now that he’d remembered he didn’t know how to act around Pidge. Climbing into Hunk’s car only made his heart ache more as Pidge and Hunk bickered over her flavour combinations. There was a code of privacy within VOLTRON, so he couldn’t enquire into Matt’s status. He couldn’t do anything to help Pidge with her Matt situation except for maybe confirm he was alive, which Shiro had already confirmed. Goddamn Shiro. He was ruining his night and the man wasn’t even here.

[socksual-innuendos]

OTP Meme

art by @yesjejunus​

Do they fight often? If so, what is their dynamic like?

Sort of, they’ve actually calmed down since first knowing each other. It use to be that they hated each other because ‘fuck you, I want to leave this stupid ass valley why do I need to fetch quest when my survival is maxed’, and ‘goddamnit you made me care about this kid that youre dragging into war I cant live with myself if he dies due to your little game of exterminate the raider tribe’.

I...am indecisive about how Emilia ends Honest Hearts, but even in the worse case scenario they do become at most tolerant of each other. Still, their arguments is mostly Emi poking and prodding for a reaction, and Joshua feeding right into it. These usually end in him being moody, but he rebounds well enough. Their big arguments though are usually over how things should be handled, in which case both do their own shit and then one has to bail the other out. 

Who is the most skeptical of the two?

Joshua, hands down. Emilia is so eccentric compared to anything he’s use to, he almost always has something to say about anything she brings up. Even if its sound to him he still questions it if it comes from her mouth. It isn’t always voiced, but the eyebrow does raise. He’s stopped being amazed at her actually accomplishing what she says she will and has started getting annoyed with it...what a show off.

Who would be most likely to suggest a night of dancing?

Emilia, and she’d dance whether he comes along or not. My Joshua never learned how to dance, but I don’t think its his cup of tea either. He hums while he works, though, and Emilia has honed in on that.

What would they do if the other was injured in battle?

Assess the situation and then adjust. I think both would cover each other, though I think Emi is more likely to haul his ass to safety. That’s her target, damnit! Unless one was really fucking up patching themselves up, I dont think the other would help with wound dressing though.

How do their fighting styles complement each other?

Complement is a very interesting word here. Their entire schtick is that Emilia is adaptive, dynamic, changing to fit the situation and he is....just headstrong and very determined, haha. They work well together in that she forms to fit his methods and is his fall back if things ever go south. It works out well, some of the time. Other times its Emilia stealing his kills and him getting angry at how fast her draw is. 

Do they want children? Does it frighten them? How many do they want?

Together? No. He is particularly someone she would be cautious around. In their canon I don’t think they sleep together, just because Emilia has Thoughts about a man like that being on top of her, or at least having some kind of mindset about having slept with her. 

Still, I think my Graham is old enough to realize that kids wouldn’t have fit well into his life, Legion existing or not. Both grew up with religious and family pressures to marry and have kids, and neither really felt that it was for them. I think my Graham tried to find a greater purpose than starting a family in Legion, and that was his justification for never trying.

What happened when they took them home to their families? If their families aren’t in the picture anymore, how do they feel about it?

Joshua learns about Emilia’s family and past in a round about sort of way. Camila introduced herself to him, which was a heart attack to Emilia, and he’s seen the photos she keeps in her cigarette case. In honesty, he feels a bit envious at how closely she was able to keep her sister. Though I don’t know how I headcanon his blood family situation, I do think that he misses kinship. After Edward, he becomes very lonely, and even reconnecting with New Canaan he feels lost. How does a man his age find another friend that close? It’s part of why he so easily falls in being war chief again in my canon. It’s familiar, and its something he knows he’s good at, and that in itself is its own comfort. 

For Emilia, I think she envies his community. Though she was young when her life started falling apart she still knew what a stable home was, what a loving family was, and what it felt like to feel safe. She knows that even after all the tragedy he’s caused and how much misfortune fell on his tribe that he still has a home to go back to, and that they’d accept him with open arms. She misses being on the receiving end of that type of love, and most of all she hates being so closed off to people about herself. Even her sister she hides things from, and even then her sister doesn’t share her faith. I think if Joshua ever invited her meet his family she’d accept, even if she thought it would go poorly, just to feel things out and see if she could find some community in there.

How does each person show affection towards the other?

Again, its in the small things. When Emilia springs him from NCR custody, it was for entirely selfish, headhunting reasons, but she brought him bandages and his bible, and those were the small comforts that mattered. She’s hard on him in areas that no one else was, like teaching him genuine wilderness survival, or how to be independent. She also tries to get him to slow down and think about what he really cares about. Sure he gets his purpose from being war chief with the Dead Horses, but he truly does miss his tribe. These show themselves in small conversations, but if she didn’t care for him she wouldn’t even bring them up.

For him, its a bit of the same. He entertains her bullshit, but he also cleans and repairs her weapons. During their end game, Emilia has a robotic prosthetic leg, and he learns how to repair and upkeep it on the fly. He becomes receptive to her teaching (if only for a while), and to humble himself enough for that should speak volumes. 

Who cries the most? Who is better at comforting?

Neither really cry, though I think Emilia at least doesn’t feel pressured to keep face around him. Sharing a religious background and a lot of similar-but-different viewpoints, they actually comfort each other well in a passive sort of way. If their problems don’t relate to each other, they can usually talk through their issues. For Emilia, it’s a huge comfort to have someone else religious to talk to. She doesn’t often get this with most people, and even if Joshua isn’t 100% on the same thought train, the core belief is still there. 

For Joshua, it’s nice having someone who is also religious but doesn’t feel like he has to perform for them. Emilia isn’t here to judge him, they’ve both done and do horrible things in their life, and she’s just different enough that if she says something he doesn’t agree with he can dismiss it. Having someone he doesn’t have to keep face around is a breath of relief. Its nice to not have any expectations set on you, and although it annoys him a majority of the time, her laid back personality allows him to let his guard down. 

When it comes down to it though, a lot of what Emilia has already lived through are things that are popping up in Joshua’s life now, and he often finds reassurance in that she’s found ways of coping, and that she is willing to talk with him when he needs it.

Who is the bigger flirt?

Emilia, no contest. Making passes at him is a pass time to her. If he didn’t have his face covered, she’d probably see just how hard she could make him blush. 

[missbugaboo]

That Other Guy (8)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

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Chapter 8: An Assault

Now, there were few things Adrien was ready for, when he left the locker room at last and headed towards the stairs that led to Miss Bustier's classroom.

First, after the disastrous photo shoot that morning, he knew better than to pretend to be completely alright – he was well aware that he'd looked like a shadow of his usual self ever since he'd first got up that day, as well as he must have looked about a dozen times worse after the conversation he'd just had with Plagg. For that reason, he was perfectly prepared for the questions considering his well-being and so when Nathaniel treated him with one, he smiled reassuringly and replied that it was all due to a rather tough, sleepless night.

So yeah, that was one.

He also realised – that was the second, much more anxiety-causing thing – that he would have to face Marinette as soon as he stepped over the classroom's threshold, as she usually stayed inside during the breaks, unless of course she was bound to change rooms. The thought of seeing her for the first time since last night still made his head spin; yet even though he still had no idea what to say to her or how to behave, he at least knew what level of emotionality he'd be in when they'd finally meet face to face.

He didn't know if he'd be sad or angry or maybe even relieved by the sight of her: she'd always been too unpredictable, as was the effect she'd always had on him, be it intentional or not. The only thing he could be certain of was that the encounter was sure as hell going to leave him confused.

It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

What he had not expected however, was being ambushed by a furious Alya the moment his foot had moved away from the final step of the stairs as she pinned him to the railing with her arms set firmly on both sides of him. His eyes widened in shock and then grew wider still when he met her vicious glare – and not even the arrival of Nino a second later was enough to make him calm down.

Quite frankly, at the moment he was sure his heart would jump out of his chest or maybe stop beating altogether, no matter how many Ninos came to help him out.

Sweet miraculous, what was Alya's problem with him now?

"Babe, let the dude breathe, okay?" he heard his best friend mutter as he came close to them and put his hand on one of his girlfriend's. "He's on the verge of a heart attack, you keep him locked like that and he'll collapse right into your arms. Or right under your feet, perhaps, since judging by your expression, I doubt you'd like to actually catch him."

"You bet I wouldn't," Alya drawled, pushing his hand away and then grasping the rail tightly again. "Not until I know for sure that he's got nothing to do with this. Or until he spills the beans and admit that he does as I believe it's more probable, and then proves that he can fix it."

She shifted her eyes back to Adrien. "And I don't mean a simple 'I'm sorry', Agreste."

Again, before Adrien could as much as open his mouth, he was cut off by Nino coming to his defence.

"She told you it's not his fault," the latter said with a weary sigh. "I think you should at least consider Marinette's opinion on the subject before you avenge her and hurt someone who's not even the main suspect of the crime, and much against Marinette's will."

"Well, you can believe that crap if you wish, but I'm not buying it," Alya retorted. "It's obvious she was hiding something, given the way she was and since she did mention that the heartless idiot who'd made her so was in fact 'her best friend', the chance that it had to do with the sunshine boy here is more than fat. Even if Marinette claims otherwise."

"Well, that's a nice way of viewing evidence," Adrien managed to break in at last, feeling the anger rise in him once more; he wasn't sure if it was Alya or Marinette (again) he was vexed with, but that he would determine later. "I suppose it doesn't matter what I have got to say about all this, either?"

Alya's eyes narrowed in concentration. "So you do know what I'm talking about."

"I have no idea," he corrected her. "All I know is that you're furious with me for some reason and that it is connected to Marinette and myself in some way, but at the same time, you're clearly not interested in what either of us has to say about the subject. So if you were so kind as to at least tell me what the heck it's all about, that would be wildly appreciated."

He saw the look of astonishment reflect on the countenances of both oh his friends and realised that it was probably the first time when he had ever spoken to them as harshly - and as coldly – as he'd done just now.

Somehow, the sight made him swell with satisfaction.

Guess it's really not Marinette I'm angry with, after all.

"So?" he picked up, seeing that he was not going to receive an answer without another push on his part. "Are you going to explain why you've assaulted me like that or will we just stay like this until Miss Bustier drags us back to class?"

With an angry huff, Alya surrendered to his wish and let go of the rail, before stepping back. As if sensing the potential danger, Nino wrapped his arm around her shoulders and nodded at Adrien reassuringly.

The other boy smiled and returned the nod, relieved. It was good to know that someone was on his side in all this, whatever it actually was.

Even though he certainly did have an idea as to what might be the issue here.

He simply couldn't let them know that he did.

"Thank you," he said calmly, even though he knew it was nothing but a sham; if he hadn't been relaxed on that rooftop he could hardly be expected to feel serene now? "Now, would you please tell me what's going on in here? Why is Nino talking about 'avenging Marinette' and how is it the reason for you to be angry with me? And first and foremost: where is Marinette?"

Again, he had to wait for their answer, unless he was to count Alya's annoyed yet somehow resigned sigh and Nino's tightened jaw as one. All of the sudden he thought that the matter might be a whole lot more serious, despite the rather childish display he'd just been treated with.

If the last night's event had taken such a great toll on him...

...could Marinette be as affected by it as well?

No, definitely not as much, he tried to convince himself quietly. Of course she would take some of it too heart, she's not some kind of an unfeeling mutant; she's the opposite of that. Still, our argument can hardly compare to all the things I've had to face and accept since we parted, so surely, it can't be that bad.

Right?

"She's not at school," he was snatched from his meditation when Alya finally decided to share her information with him. "She came in the morning and pretended to be alright, except we all saw that she wasn't. So Miss Bustier sent her back home."

"Just like that?" Adrien asked instantly. "I mean... Your reaction from earlier suggests there was much more to it. Like you two have actually had a chance to talk."

"We did," Alya confirmed. "Or more like, I tried to talk to her while she kept dodging it, feigning good spirits and refusing to answer my questions."

"Have you attacked her in the same way you did me just now? Cause I think that might explain her reluctance."

Alya's glare became murderous again. "Of course I didn't, stupid. I was as discreet as possible and only asked about most basic things. Like you know, why did she had those dark bags under her eyes or why her hands were trembling all the time. Stuff like that."

"Look, dude, I know my girl can be pushy sometimes," Nino supplied readily. "But it was not the case this time. Those inquiries were what we would have asked her on any other day – the difference was in how Marinette responded to them."

Alya let out another sigh, one that was much less warlike this time. "When I asked her, I fully expected her to shrug and then complain about another all-nighter she'd pulled off because of a new idea for a design. Or maybe to say that she'd fallen asleep over homework, or a book, or maybe had just lost herself in daydreams for too long last evening and gone to bed late as a result. Normal Marinette stuff. Instead, I got clenched fists and teary eyes and that was long before she actually broke down."

Now Adrien's heart seemed to stop for real.

"Broke... down?"

"You really don't know anything, do you?" Alya's gaze was full of genuine surprise now. She shook her head adamantly. "Okay, so maybe I have jumped to conclusions too fast. The thing is, I'm really worried about her and since she wouldn't speak openly, I was left wondering. And you are one of her closest friends so if you had hurt her... She would've been devastated by it. Just like she was today."

"But why?" Adrien asked again, desperately. "And how can you know all that if she left as soon as you said she did? She's always late for class, so you couldn't have talked much before -"

"She didn't leave at once," Nino explained. "She got to school a few minutes before eight and hardly spoke to anyone. We noticed she wasn't fully herself, but as Al said, we blamed it on the lack of sleep, because we all know it happens to her a lot. That is, until Alya did ask her and Marinette began to avoid the questions she'd asked."

Alya nodded in confirmation. "It went on for three long hours, both in class and in between... and then on the third break she lost it. No sign, no warning. She just crumbled down, turned into a crying, suffocating mess. It was horrible."

"Yeah. it was."

For the umpteenth time in the last fourteen hours Adrien felt an infinite, mind-boggling, absolutely devastating terror come over him. The idea of Marinette being so unwell that it could be referred to as crumbling down and a suffocating mess would have been enough to make his inside twist on its own, without the extra confirmation in the looks Alya and Nino wore while telling him about it. Those two things mixed and additionally supported by the memory of Alya's most recent attack and rage...

Good Heaven, he needed some answers.

And now.

"Guys, I need details," he forced his mouth to say even though the rest of his body seemed inches away from falling apart in the same way that Marinette's had. "Tell me what it was. How she looked, what she said. Especially what she said."

Alya and Nino exchanged looks and for a second, Adrien was sure that they would decide he was not worthy of being entrusted with the knowledge he so craved. He couldn't blame them if they had – yet at the same time, he begged God that they would be generous this time.

He had to know now.

"Alright, so basically, she'd been gloomy from the start, but we've already told you that," Alya began after a while and Adrien was ready to kiss her in thanks. "Again, it appeared to be a simple exhaustion and that's what we took it for. Then Marinette got all weird about it though, yada yada yada... and then I decided to confront her. Probably not the best of my moves but it still seemed like a better idea than letting her go through that whole ordeal alone, whatever it was.

"So I dragged her to the bathroom and made sure no one was there to overhear us. I asked some more questions, Marinette dodged each and every one of them. She kept doing that... until I asked her if it had anything to do with you.

"That's why I was so sure it was you who'd hurt her," she picked up after a pause, during which Adrien was certain he would die of guilt and shame before Alya might decide to speak again. "As soon as I pronounced your name she burst into tears. She was on her knees a moment later, trying desperately to calm down again but failing completely... And then all of a sudden she began to tell me how it was not your fault at all."

"She did?" Adrien whispered, his own eyes beginning to sting. He blinked rapidly, hoping his friends had not noticed the change in him, although at the same time he was beginning to realise that he hardly cared if they had. "I mean, it's good to know I haven't done something unintentionally..."

Gosh, what an idiot he was. What a perfect, absolute moron.

What a damn jerk.

Of course it was him who'd done it, on both sides of the mask.

As if to confirm his thesis, Alya added, "She said it was another friend of hers, someone we don't know but who, apparently, means a great deal to her. She said they'd argued on the previous eve and that it'd been rougher than ever before, and that it had kept her awake for half of the night even though she'd managed to fall asleep without much trouble at first. She mentioned something about it being her fault but then contradicted herself and cried that it was not her fault at all, but that it was still so hard and confusing and that it hurt so much to have him think badly of her...

"I don't know, Adrien," she concluded with yet another sigh. "Quite frankly, I got lost after about fifteen seconds into her monologue. But I do know this: whoever that scoundrel is, he'd hurt my best friend in a way no one ever had before. And I can't just forgive that."

Adrien could swear his legs were turning to jelly right there and then.

"Was it really that bad?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above whisper. "Could it really have been the worst you've seen? I don't want to deem it unimportant or say that you're hyperbolising, only that -"

"Adrien," Nino cut off unexpectedly. "Remember when Marinette broke up with Luka last year and we found her crying in the park?"

Adrien's face turned pale as a sheet.

"I do," he stammered, appalled. "Of course I do."

"It was worse. And I only saw her after she'd left the bathroom."

All of the sudden, his mind was made up. He wasn't sure why or how, except that the image of Marinette's ugly crying – the image he remembered so well from all those months ago, now intensified tenfold by Nino's words and his own shattering feeling of guilt – had a major role in deciding that. That image itself would have been enough to make him crack; now it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

Coward or not, ready or not, he could no longer stay and pretend that things would somehow fix themselves on their own. There was no miraculous cure – except for the work he might still do.

No matter how horribly impossible the task still seemed in his eyes.

"Bro? You're alright?"

"I'm sorry guys," he replied automatically, shifting his gaze back to the pair before him. "I can't stay. If things really are as bad as you say they are... I just need to talk to Marinette and as soon as I can. She probably won't let me in; she's been through hell and back and unwanted company is probably the last thing she needs. But... but I believe I may be of some help if she does."

Alya raised an eyebrow at him, mistrust painted all over her face. "No offence Agreste, but why should you be the one able to help her out now?"

"Because I know the bastard who'd hurt her."

[zukofenty]

day 25: mona lisa

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara make a pact to (fake) rush Asian Greek life because they were giving out free tacos.

“Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”

“Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare.

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, FratBrother!Zuko, SororityGirl!Katara, scamming, dildo stealing 

➜ Words: 6.6k

➜ Warnings: they stay in an airbnb instead of a hotel bc who has the schmoney for a hotel room😩

AO3, @zutaramonth hi!!!

Zuko’s grabbing at Katara’s arm while she’s carefully sipping water (only water, she swears) out of a red solo cup. She’s in her “whore fit” (her words) with larger than life fake eyelashes that could propel her into the sky a la Icarus if she blinked a little too quickly. She was in the middle of readjusting her crop top for the umpteenth time that night, because of course she forgets her strapless bra chicken cutlet contraption at home, so of course she does the most reasonable thing and takes a regular bra and just tucks the straps in. Because as much as she is a proponent of #freethenipple, her nipples could probably slice open a radiator with how fucking cold Ba Sing Se was. 

 “Please take this shot for me,” Zuko reasons with her, trying to make it seem as though he was handing off a shot to a clueless lightweight sorority rushee he was hoping to nail later in the night. For reputation’s sake, Zuko could not afford to fuck up tonight. He was in too deep. “Please, my Pepsin hasn’t kicked in yet. Asian glow is not the look we’re going for tonight.”

 “I hate you.” Katara munches on her (free) taco, and effortlessly throws back the shot: no chase. Zuko looks back and sees active members of Pi Alpha Psi giving him a thumbs up, hooting, hollering, being dumb. One salaciously thrusts his hips to the beat of “Big Bank,” pathetically hoping he could emulate YG in support of Zuko supposedly getting some Deltas pussy. 

 Asian Greek life was fucking stupid. 

 Tonight was the night of the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. Because Greek life was entirely stupid , of course they had to hold the fucking party on a Tuesday night, when Zuko had an econ pratice set to get done by midnight, and Katara needed to get to Ochem at 8am the next morning. It was their fault, really. A punishment from God herself (Rihanna) for trying to scam the Greek system. 

 It all started because Zuko and Katara had no fucking friends. 

 Besides each other, but that was also up for debate most days. Especially the days when Zuko would remind Katara whenever her foundation didn’t blend down her neck. He always thought he was being helpful. Katara’s long given up the urge to slit his throat. 

 After high school, when you still believed you were going to do something with your life and be important and make a difference and didn’t know about income tax, they had kept the dream of Ba Sing Se University alive while they attended community college. Uncle Iroh and Hakoda weren’t exactly rolling in tuition money, and financial aid was a stingy bitch. While Zuko had considered reaching out to his estranged father, the owner of a multi billion dollar pyramid scheme, he suddenly remembers the time his dad tried to burn his face off after a particularly heated episode of Maury , and then books another therapy appointment. 

 It was the top university in the nation, promising a gateway to accounting jobs and selling your soul to work for immoral tech companies to pay off your student loans in a timely manner. They had prayed for the day they could call the school home. The day they could leave their small town and finally make it in life. Katara and Zuko were inseparable growing up, even if at the surface they bumped heads. They were at each other’s throats whenever the going got tough, slinging petty insults at each other. 

 “I told you this was a bad idea. They don’t have fucking non-dairy options. Wait until my anus starts beatboxing in the bathroom in 20 minutes. Then you will see,” Zuko grumbled. Katara was always doing this, dragging their group of friends to “fun” places whenever Yelp sends her a notification a new restaurant opened up in their shithole of a town. It’s always some boba shop that was secretly a front for a Scientology cult’s money laundering scheme. 

 But Katara’s the only one who is able to scare Zuko (dairy induced) shitless. She’s always able to send him a glare that screams don’t you dare fuck with me, I know you masturbate to Hatsune Miku moan compilations. And he instantly starts sweating .

 At the same time, she was the only one to truly get him. Even if their friends were perfectly content to stay in their town, doing the same things, being the same people, Katara and Zuko always knew there was so much more out there. So much more to the world than what they had grown up in. So they kept the dream alive. Even if their friends had rightfully doubted them. No one made it out of their town. You find a partner from the same people you grew up with, have kids you grow to hate, hide your husband’s infidelity, and either choose from two options. Grow old with him and resent him and then have a kid to try to save the marriage. Or, go Gone Girl on his ass. 

 “Women really need to go back to poisoning their men. Like the good old days,” Katara’s eyes were narrowed into slits as she focused on taking clandestine photos of Mrs. Kim’s cheating, rat-faced husband. For a few months, she was under the tutelage of the town’s private investigator, June. It paid well, and she felt she was contributing to the feminist movement at the same time. 

 “Uh-huh, right,” Zuko eyed her warily. Dubbed lovingly “Katara’s Uber Driver,” he also got paid by June to drive the Nyla Mobile around during their late night ops. 

 He couldn’t wait to leave this shit fuck of a town. 

 While their friends and family were tearfully embracing them on their final days at home, a patented group hug forced upon them, they shared a secret smile. Their dream was coming true. They were going to a school in the city with minimized debt. Plus, though neither of them would ever admit it, they also had each other to rely on.

 //

 “What the fuck do you need? I swear to Rihanna, you only text me when I’m trying to masturbate. Please, make other friends,” Katara nearly screams into the phone. Her roommate, Suki, groans at the volume coming from Katara’s side of the room, but doesn’t get up. Her stomach is still sensitive from the Blue Razz Four Loko she downed at some frat house Katara had to drag her back from. 

 Zuko had the decency to sound sheepish. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

 “I hope you understand, I am too tense right now to pretend I like you. Go. Make. Friends.” 

 Because Zuko is a fucking child , he starts groaning and Katara could hear him petulantly slamming his Amazon memory foam mattress with his fist. He’ll get angry that the mattress is preventing any real satisfaction from hitting it, and then hit it a few (approximately 3) more times. She hears the pounds, and smirks. She doesn’t know whether or not to feel disturbed that she knows him so well. 

 “I miss you,” he whines.  

 “I don’t.” 

 Zuko gasps dramatically. “How could you say that? Sandbox love never dies!” He wants to yell into the darkness of his room when she hangs up on him. It was valid, of course. But that doesn’t mean his feelings can’t hurt. He’s always sensitive during the Mercury Retrograde. 

 Being a transfer student is hard, as much as he hates to admit it. There’s only two years to pad your resume and make lifelong friends and learn how much cocaine is too much cocaine for your body. College was hard. While Katara’s roommate was able to introduce her to people and Katara made a group of friends almost instantly, Zuko wasn’t nearly as pleasant to be around. It wasn’t his fault he was nervous . When he’s nervous he looks more mean than usual, and his roommate, Jet, was wary around him since the day he moved in. He couldn’t even be mad when he spotted Jet hiding his box cutter’s accessibility. 

 “Katara!” Zuko rolls his eyes at her lack of response. “Katara!” He repeats. “I know you’re just listening to “Like a G6” on a 10 hour loop. Don’t pretend to look so concentrated.” 

 She glares at him. “Let me have this one thing to myself.” She still begrudgingly takes out her airpods.

 “No.” 

 Katara wants to throttle his long ass neck. “Zuko, be honest with me.” 

 “Ok, yes! When you put your hair in a ponytail you look like a cage free egg.” Zuko stares at her in confusion when she starts playing with her hair. “What are you doing?” 

 “I’m trying to hand over my wig. You fucking scalped me, and I had nothing to say back. Just take it. You deserve it.” He smacks her hands from messing with her hair. Other patrons in the cafe near campus glanced over in amusement, as Katara pokes him in the neck and he yelps. 

 While he rubs at his neck to lessen the sting from Katara’s acrylics, she worries at her lip. “Be honest. Do you think Suki hates me?” 

 “Yes.” 

 Katara slams a hand on the table, causing his croissant to quake in fear. “You’re supposed to be comforting and trying to console me! Do it over, say no.” 

 “No.” 

 “Zuko, do you know how close I am to biting your nipple right off?” 

 He rolls his eyes. Katara specialized in empty threats (most of the time). “Don’t get mad at me just because Suki refuses to talk to you.” He relishes in her frustration. “Again, whose fault is it that Suki has to go to court for reckless driving?”

 “She was the one at the wheel!” Katara throws her hands to the air, before petulantly slapping them into her thighs, for emphasis of her point.

 Zuko pinches his nose bridge. “Well, you were the one who convinced her that she shit herself!” 

 Katara takes a neat, clean sip from her iced coffee before calmly responding. “She was the one doing 88 in a 65 trying to get to the bathroom. How was I supposed to know she did anal the day before and it was just cum!” 

 Zuko smacks his forehead in frustration after seeing identical blushes on the sea of patrons, now very much intune with the turn of the conversation. “You really don’t know how to act in public, do you? Like you think all the shit coming out of your mouth is important enough for it to just be said. You couldn’t have let that be a passing thought? Or learn how to fucking whisper?” 

 Katara sighs, closing her eyes and folding her hands over each other, because she’s dramatic. “All I had today for lunch was lip gloss. Let me be.” 

 “Again, if you, I don’t know, learned how to apologize to someone and admit you’re wrong then maybe Suki wouldn’t have hidden all your stress snacks. And, I don’t know. Maybe if you knew how to say ‘sorry’ she wouldn’t hate your fucking guts.” Katara simply turns her head into the air at Zuko’s words, refusing to acknowledge them. He’s itching to take a hit of his Phix with how on edge he was, and then remembers Katara had sold it on the school Facebook sell and exchange page as revenge. Apparently, Katara snaps if you send her one too many Tom Holland and Nicki Minaj fanfiction stories. Not that he’s speaking from personal experience. “You know what, you’re almost as stubborn as Wendy Williams when she refuses to pronounce Dua Lipa’s name correctly.” 

 She petulantly swivels her gaze to Zuko, nose still pointed to the sky. “Dula Peep is iconic for that reason.” She breathes out, letting her body go lax. “Please, shut the fuck up. I’m sad. Why would she leave me alone in the middle of the Mercury Retrograde like this? I didn’t think she hated me that much.” She drops her defensive stance, and rolls her shoulders, eyes focused only on the table. “I thought, what we had. It was real friendship you know? I made a joint for her using the orientation leader recruitment flyers because we were out of rolling papers. That’s true love. That’s sisterhood.” 

 //

 “Please, I can’t poop right now! I can’t poop when I’m scared. I’m poop shy!” 

 Zuko audibly groaned. “Then why the fuck would you take a shit at my apartment? Yours is literally a 4 minute walk away, according to motherfucking Google Maps. 5 minutes if you use Apple Maps.” 

 “I don’t know, ok! I saw the baby wipes and I just kinda went with the flow, sue me!” Damnit, she knew she tasted real milk in her strawberry banana smoothie. God, the price of being ethnic in this dairy filled world. 

 “I called you over here to explain the plan! So I don’t bother you mid masturbation! And you just had to take a dump, didn’t you? On the plan, and my fucking toilet, too!” 

 She was weary after her back to back classes from 9-5 when Zuko excitedly called her up to come to his place. As much of a bitch baby Zuko could be, Katara tries to visit his place as much as she can. His apartment was just upgraded, meaning he had a state of the art microwave. One that doesn’t third degree burn her ham and cheese Hot Pockets, but rather cooks them perfectly to the tune of the package instructions, and makes them all fluffy and culinary excellence. Plus, he lives further from the heroin infested park she lived right next to, meaning his building smelt like a Clinique cosmetics counter (or: old lady) rather than pure urine like hers. And he didn’t have to run home in fear of being chased. 

 Besides, he’s all she’s got right now. He explained his plan as the roof of her mouth is assaulted by the gooey cheese of the Hot Pocket. Zuko eagerly handed over the flyers that were shoved into his hands as he was walking to campus. 

 “Do you see the funds these bitches got? We have to go! We need to become part of Asian Greek life!” 

 Although Katara did enjoy seeing the copious amount of free food potential, she was skeptical. “This is all free?” 

 “Yes, oh my god! Read the damn flyer! They’re living it up while we try to fit spinach in our budget to buy White Claw. Free alc, and free tacos! C’mon, we don’t even have to get into the sorority or frat. Just go through the rush process, and try to get as much free food as possible.” Zuko sits on his bed beside her, and even shakes her by the shoulders for emphasis. She swats his hands away while he chuckles.

 Katara side eyes him. “Aren’t you already behind on your lectures? I don’t know, do we really want to waste time doing this?”

 Zuko sends her a sheepish smile, but grabs her hand. For reassurance purposes, of course. “It’s just one week. Let’s just let loose. Maybe we could walk away from this with a few friends. So I don’t bother you mid beating your meat.” Katara can’t help but laugh. 

 On the first night, she was nervous. Zuko was clearly his indifferent self, but deep down she knew he was scared, too. Katara and Zuko weren’t exactly Greek life material . 

 “They thought you were hot, that’s why they flyered you!” Katara yelps while digging through his closet. Zuko ignores the blush growing on his face. “Let’s find a fit that emphasizes that bad boy aesthetic.” 

Katara never did anything half assed. That’s why if they were going to play hot, ignorant Asian Greek lifers, they were going to be the goddamn best. Academy Award nominated and then played by Scarlett Johansson in a biopic type of acting. 

 “What’s wrong with what I usually wear? Is the leather jacket not, quote unquote, bad boy enough?” Zuko runs his hands through his shaggy hair, which Katara had encouraged him to not style. She’d never admit it, but maybe her sexual awakening coincided with Zuko growing his hair out. Maybe. 

 “Yeah, yeah. Maybe to Tumblr , but not for fuckboys.” She groans because of course Zuko has good fashion taste. Maybe him being hot helps with how clothes looked, but they all screamed fashion and not basic fuckboy . Which was the vibe of the night. “God, do you have the entire Forever 21 Black t shirt aisle in here?” 

 Before he could retort, Zuko’s interrupted by Jet coming into their room to grab his dumb Hydroflask. It’s dumb because it’s so goddamn big, for no good reason. 

 “Hey, Katara,” Jet is smirking. Ew . 

 Zuko feels jealousy, the type that makes your body grow all hot and makes you want to punch a mattress and Jet’s pleasantly symmetrical face. God, why is he so fucking pretty? He reminds himself that Katara was entirely off limits , and schools his face. He gets these types of pangs of envy once in a while, usually during the Mercury Retrograde. Ever since they were kids, he knew Katara was going to be in his life forever. He wasn’t about to fuck that up. Not with emotions or anything. 

 “Hey, Jet!” Katara chirps. She couldn’t help it, her pussy is weak for pretty men. She knew that look on his face. The eyes that roamed her body clad in the tight top and jeans that made sure her ass looked like she paid for it. Thank you, Fashionnova. 

 He gives her a hot guy half hug, and she’s melting. Calm down, girl Katara warns her pussy. “See you around. Zuko, I’m going to Target, do you need anything?”

 Zuko frowns at the sight of a fangirling Katara. “Nope.” Jet nods, and even offers up a smile. He hates that he smiles back. 

 Katara swoons. She flops on Zuko’s bed, eyes all dreamy and starry. “That’s the vibe you need to give off!” 

 “What, that I have HPV?” 

 “Exactly! See, that’s the type of fuckboy you need to be. You can have the same pussy clenching effect with the right, basic clothes. You’re hot, and you have a badass scar. You just need a striped Guess shirt and white Nike Air Force 1s to complete the getup.” 

 So, Zuko digs through his closet from his hypebeast phase to find a pair of white sneakers (“Reeboks aren’t basic enough!” Katara protests) and borrows the Guess shirt from Katara, and they were ready to scam.

 Fuck. The damn tacos. And then it was all you can eat Korean food. Then it was free avant garde ice cream at that one place that cost you an ovary to even sample the vanilla bean flavor. 

 The first night of rushing, all you can eat Korean food, and they were already putting on the pounds. 

 “ Holy fucking cheese dick! I think I gained the weight of a Kardashian ass filler in just today alone! I can’t breathe. Zuko, hold up.” She puts her hand out, halting their walk back to her place. “I need to unbutton my pants.” She had one too many plates of kimchi spam fried rice.

 Zuko burps graciously. Goddamn kimbap. He swallowed that shit whole, choking a few times throughout the night. “Me fucking too! Oh my god, I can’t breathe.” 

 “In through your nose. Out with your dairy shits.” 

 As soon as they got back to her apartment, they immediately reached for Lactaid, and then went over the events of the night. 

 “What do you think of Ty Lee? All the guys were drooling over her,” Zuko asks. Katara ditched her elaborate makeup, scrubbing her face clean and was in one of Zuko’s t shirts he’s long given up trying to get back from her. She’s twirling an expensive mechanical pencil between her fingers, the kind that has super precise lead and matches her pencil case and laptop. For the aesthetic. 

 “She’s the type of bitch to eat salt and vinegar chips at 9 in the morning.” 

 “What’s the difference between girls who eat salt and vinegar chips in the morning, and girls who eat Hot Cheetos in the morning?” Zuko’s scratching at his head, brain still foggy from all the Doritos he’s practically inhaled. He’s topless, and has one of the many sweats he leaves behind at Katara’s because their sleepovers were some of his favorite memories growing up. Even if they have to squeeze Zuko’s six foot tall ass in twin beds now. 

 “One has class. The other needs therapy.” 

 He squints from his spot at her desk, typing interrupted to push up his round glasses. “I see.” 

 “I saw you really hit it off with Mai,” Katara made sure to keep her voice even. “She was really into you.” 

 Zuko whips his head around to her. “Really?” He yelps. “Stay out of my business!” Katara throws her hands up in mock surrender. “...Did she say anything about me?” 

 “She said she was so tired of medium ugly frat brothers and that you showing up sent her cooch into anaphylactic shock,” Katara deadpans.

 “Really!” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

 “No, she just said you were handsome. And then I told her ‘don't call him handsome unless he's about to hand some money over,’ and then she laughed and then thirst followed you on Instagram.” 

 Zuko scrambles to check his phone. “Oh my god, she’s so cute,” he whispers, eyes enraptured by her Instagram feed. Katara rolls her eyes when he jumps into her bed, knocking her work aside to shove his greasy iPhone 6s in her face. 

 Katara slaps it right out of his hand. “Ugh, not the 6s.” 

 Zuko practically melts. “You said she thinks I’m hot, right?” Katara pokes at a man tit before curling up at his side. 

 “You’re annoying.” 

 Zuko grabs Katara's hand, playing with the tiny fingers. “I’m adorable.” 

 She snorts. “You know, we should make a pact. If we’re getting this invested into the whole process. Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”  

 “Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare with Katara cozied up next to him. 

 //

 The second night, ice cream night, and Katara was slipping. 

 “What do you usually look for in a guy?” 

 “I usually just look away,” Katara admits, shrugging. She doesn’t forget to plaster a well practiced, non threatening smile on her face. 

 “Preferred places for guys to cum?” Another sorority girl asks. Other rushees are nodding enthusiastically, carefully preparing their answers. 

 “To his senses,” Katara huffs. 

 “I usually like a backshot!” Ty Lee says enthusiastically, despite the other sisters eyeing Katara warily. Ty Lee insisted that Katara would be a good fit for the sorority. She looked like the only one on her side.

 While the girls were excitedly dancing along to the music playing in the shop, Katara’s eye twitches. It was the feminist in her. “If you still like Chris Brown, you’re ugly,” Katara is adamant, not relenting despite the incredulous, wide eye stares from the gaggle of sorority girls. 

 “Well, I guess I’m ugly then!” Mai yelps, hands crossed over her chest defiantly. 

 Katara smiles carefully. “You sure are, bitch!” 

 Fuck Katara was messing this up. She needed to make sure that they were convinced Katara was sorority girl material to move onto the next level of the secret invite only event. Fuck, fuck, fuck . 

 She wasn’t about to let Zuko win at anything!

 Mai squints at her. “Are you a clit being handled by a frat brother? Because you’re really rubbing me the wrong way.”

 Ty Lee gasps. “Please excuse her, Indica makes her grumpy.” 

 Katara glares. “None taken.” 

 She likes Ty Lee, that much she’s gathered. And, it seems as though Ty Lee had grown to like her back, making sure Katara gets enough ice cream throughout the night, even turning her head when Katara pulls out a Tupperware from her backpack to bring back the dessert to her apartment. 

 That was until Ty Lee remembered she had a flask hidden up her skirt, a necessity post fuckboy cheats on you .  “I-I just called to say I don’t miss you! And that your dick smells like a stapler that has been microwaved for 25 seconds. Like, you can block me all you want. But you can’t uneat this ass. Sorry, I don’t make the rules!” Katara does damage control, and dutifully snatches the phone from her hands.

 Crossing her arms like a mother disciplining her child, she levels Ty Lee with a concerned look. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

 Ty Lee gets up and stumbles on her way to hug Katara. “I can’t leave him! I love him so, so much. He’s my fucking ride or die, the Quavo to my Saweetie! The pitchy singing to my Selena Gomez! The Marlene to my Rosa! The badly glued fake eyelashes to my Asian sorority girl,” Ty Lee is crying and loud and her anime like tits are bouncing with every sob that comes. 

 Katara takes the flask of peach vodka from her trembling hands, and shakes the girl. “Look, bitch. You’re better than this.” 

 “No, I’m really not!” 

 Katara pokes the girl in the forehead. “Yes, bitch you definitely are. You’re a bad bitch that got adicktated. But that’s ok.” She tilts the red faced girl’s head back, making sure the cup of water goes down her throat. “So what if you fell in love a little? You’re in your bag bitch, you don’t need provolone smelling dick to dicktate your life!” 

 She rubs at her snot filled nose, and then wipes her fist on her mini skirt. “You really think so?” 

 “Bitch, I know so . Go be a slut, forget about Chan’s ass flake. Now hand over your phone. Drunk yelling over the phone is not the move for the night.” The other active Deltas sisters were running back from a group bathroom visit, after realizing it was Ty Lee’s bad decisions o’ clock . They came back to see the chastised girl determindly eating Ube flavored ice cream, without a phone to do dumb shit in her hands. Mai can’t help but start liking Katara. 

 //

 The third night, and it’s the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. IT was a slam fucking dunk. They had gotten catering from everybody’s favorite taco place at the Pi Alpha Psi frat house. And a fucking DIY boba bar. A boba bar! A goddamn boba bar. Katara had a ziplock baggie filled with the tapioca pearls in her left jean pocket. 

 All Deltas rushees were meant to be socializing with Pi Alpha Psi brothers. The active sisters were trying to see who were the classy whores in the group. They didn’t want admitted whores, just subtle ones. After fending off another medium ugly brother from trying to stare at her tits, Katara corners Zuko, who hands her another shot to take for him. “Why was that guy dressed like an uninvolved father?” 

 “What’s that supposed to look like?” 

 “Sweaty, and smells vaguely of disappointment.” 

 Zuko coughs. “I’m sad that hit way too close to home.” 

 Katara looks devastated for a split second, until Zuko starts laughing at his own joke. Then, she smacks him upside the head. “You know, you should be thankful for me. I got you looking exactly like a Pi Alpha Psi brother. Even down to the shoes.” Katara glares ahead. “God, I hate that we have to wear shoes on in this house. I hate looking at Haru’s Black Air Force 1s. Anything but those. Anything but those .” 

//

 The fourth night and they had successfully scammed the Greek system. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams, bursting through his door without preamble. “Look what Ty Lee sent—wait a minute. What the fuck are you doing?” She pauses in shoving the phone in his face to see him face down in his calculus textbook. 

 “I’m trying to find a natural way to stay focused.” 

 Katara crosses her arms. “Have you considered adderall?” 

 Zuko snorts, clearly annoyed. “That’s literally prescription meth.” 

 “And what about it?” She slams her body, face first into his bed. “‘ Hey get ready tomorrow because we have an exclusive, invite only clubbing invite and the girls and I really really want you to come! ’” Katara reads the Instagram message verbatim from her phone, her chest swelling with unbridled pride. “I deserve an Academy Award.” 

 Zuko plops his body right on top of hers, relishing in how she groans under his added weight. “Run me my Golden Globe because according to Chan, my ‘ass better be ready to get nasty at Club Nyla .’” 

 “Shut the booger sugar up!” 

 So (on a Thursday night ) Katara and Zuko crowd in the party bus the generous Asian Greek system had funded in the name of “cultural bonding.” She can barely breathe, tits pushed in the most fuckable way possible, and she feels her face heating from the shots forced down her throat because her (potential) sisters had insisted on heavily pregaming. 

 While the frat brothers were perfectly content to sitting and not making any sort of movement whatsoever in the name of looking cool , the girls on the other hand were having the time of their lives. 

 “Oh my fucking god, for the last time Ty Lee, I cannot join the grind train, I do not have mental stability to keep my balance and shake my ass at the same time,” Katara lightly chastises, shoving the drunk girl gently off of her. Ty Lee simply shrugs, and then continues to gyrate on the gaggle of girls. The music was pounding, everyone was sweating from the amount of unrestrained dancing happening, and Katara’s pretty sure some girl just bruised her pussy after accidentally smacking it (hard) on the bus’s stripper poles. Disco lights bathe the entirety of the vehicle, enveloped in the screams and squeals of Asian girls trying to twerk and scream along to lyrics at the same time. 

 It was pure fucking chaos. But so goddamn fun . The girls kept constantly grabbing her hips in an attempt to yike on her helpless ass, which Katara abruptly stopped by flicking off their hands. All to the tune of “The Box” by Roddy Rich. 

 “Let me hear everyone loud and clear! ‘Fuck 12!’” Katara screams to a crowd of bewildered frat brothers. 

 “Katara, no,” Zuko’s laughing too hard, the alcohol making him feel lightheaded. Heavy rap music permeated the walls of the bus, and he feels a headache building. But he feels a little better seeing Katara having fun, nearly choking to death after taking a hit from some brother’s joint. 

 “Don’t laugh, I don’t smoke that often!” She insists. 

 Zuko throws his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “If you die, at least it was in a party bus while Travis Scott was playing.” 

 “I’d rather die in an Acura!” Katara yelps, getting up in mock frustration. While Zuko is simply losing his mind at her attitude, she accidentally stumbles as the bus comes to an abrupt stop, and lands in Zuko’s lap. 

 She’s chortling, moving about to get up. Zuko tries his hardest not to let his heart pound impossibly loud. 

 After IDs were checked, and a Drake song was forcibly requested by the obnoxious group of frat brothers, the clubbing event was in full swing. Yet, it paled in comparison to the fun and chaotic energy of the party bus. Frat brothers were attempting to dance, Asian girls were trying their hardest to twerk. 

 Katara is doing her duty as the most sober one out of the bunch and pushes random guys away before they could grab at her sisters’ hips. “You know, God gives flat asses to his strongest soldiers,” she mumbles, lips dangerously close to his ear. They were sitting down in the private seating area near the dance floor, exhausted beyond belief and watching the sorority girls’ attempts at clapping what little cheeks they did have. 

 Ty Lee clumsily grabs at Katara, screaming about having to piss and call her ex. Her cue to save the day. She gives Zuko an apologetic look, and whispers “I’m gonna win” before grabbing Ty Lee’s hand. 

 While he’s checking on his Neko Atsume cats, Chan’s Pepto Bismal smelling self is sidling up to his side. “Bro, you should fuck her. She’s got amazing tits.” 

 Zuko smirks, before schooling his features. That was already an observation he made when he was 16. Nice try, fuckboy. Chan continues, not caring if Zuko responds to him. “Pound that pussy like rent is due tomorrow! You have to get at that big, fat, moose sized pussy at the Airbnb we’re headed to after this.”

  Ty Lee is blubbering, snot running freely down her face as though she was a 5 year old at Chuck E. Cheese realizing they didn’t have enough tickets to afford a beaded necklace. “Every time he goes down on me, it feels like my pussy’s getting colonized. Is that what love is supposed to feel like.” 

 Katara paused in rubbing her back. “Oh my god.” 

 Ty Lee grabs at Katara’s shoulders, toilet and unsteady stomach forgotten. “Please, for the sake of the female population. Fuck Zuko. We need to know if he’s packing that schmeat.”

 Katara gasps. “No fucking way, we’re just friends!” 

 The inebriated girl clutches Katara’s face in between her sweaty palms, lowering her voice in a volume she thinks counted as a whisper. It was more of a scream than anything else. “We always try to get the hottest rushees to fuck each other at the Airbnb. Then, you’ll definitely make it into Deltas. Because if anyone deserves to throw that neck back on Zuko, it’s you.” 

 “Well gee, thanks. I’m touched.” 

 //

 “Moan harder! Don’t sound like I’m forcing you to fuck me! This isn’t no 90 Day Fiance shit! I thought you were an actor. Where is the commitment to the craft? You sound like you’re a dying tractor. Do better!” Katara continues jumping on the bed, trying to emulate a good old fucking. Zuko breathes in, before an unrestrained groan comes from his lips. Katara’s cooch instantly quakes.

 Their shoes were off, at her insistence, sheets already strewn about to make it believable. She could hear the snickering behind the door she’s triple checked to make sure it was locked and unable to be seen through the keyhole, her thong shoved in front of it to ensure their privacy.  

 “Zuko, Zuko, Zuko!” she pants, makine her voice sound as fucked out as possible. “I can’t!” 

 He continues smacking his arm, trying his best to replicate the sound of cheeks being clapped. “Baby, yes you can. You’re taking me like a fucking champ.” 

 Katara almost couldn’t hold back her giggle. This was all so fucking ridiculous. Taken straight out of a Larry smut scene. But they had a job to finish, a lifestyle they needed to live out, a pact to win. She whines, he lets out a moan. They bite their fist before they lost their minds and ruined the scam. She could imagine the title to their terrible porn video: college girl takes BEC (big emo cock). 

 “So, so good!” Katara made sure to make her voice sound as strained as possible, jumping even harder on the mattress. Zuko is ashamed to say his dick twitched in his pants the slightest. “So goddamn big. I feel so full!” 

 “Thanks for thinking I have a big dick,” he mutters, before letting out another wanton cry. 

 “Please be quiet!” Her little faux whimpers are simply killing Zuko, a blush creeping on his neck. He may or may not be jerking off to a sound now burned in his memory. 

 “Ready for the grand finale?” Zuko’s bewildered, pausing in his erratic jumping on the mattress. Katara jumps as hard as she can three times, before landing a punch square into Zuko’s stomach. It’s unexpected, and he doubles over, wheezing and pathetically gasping for air. 

 “Baby, cum in me!” Katara mewls, a devious smile on her face. 

 Zuko frowns, rubbing at his sore stomach. “Really? You’re that invested in this role? You would hurt your bestest friend in this world?” 

 “Shut up! Let me bully you.”

 They leave the room, ensuring their hair looked as disheveled as possible, clothes put on backwards, and Katara’s lip gloss smeared across his face. It tasted like Starbursts and scams. 

 The pair were suddenly enveloped in violent cheers. Muscled frat brothers were taking their beefy arms and slapping Zuko’s chest in celebration. Zuko could see Katara blushing, acting bashful and even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for emphasis. He rolls his eyes, and deftly decided his heart was indeed forever stolen by the bat shit crazy bitch. 

 “My man!” Chan howls, grabbing Zuko in a signature bro hug. “Any other Deltas you want to raw dog tonight?” 

 Zuko’s gaze was focused on Katara’s smiling face. “This dick belongs to one woman.” 

 //

 They sorority and fraternity wearily climbed back into the party bus in the wee hours of the morning, needing to make the trek back in time for classes. Everyone was to stop by the Psi Alpha Psi house to collect their stuff, and then make their way home. 

 Zuko’s nodding off, too tired to continue breathing when Katara pokes him expertly in the arm. “What?” 

 “We’re going to steal the house trophy when we get back.” 

 He gasps. “Not Beatrice.” 

 “Yes, Beatrice!” 

 “Why do you want a $9 dildo from Amazon anyways?” 

 Katara sighs. “I overheard them this morning. The Deltas and Psi Alpha Psi. They were running through photos of girls and guys that rushed that didn’t make it through the process. And they were so fucking mean , Zuko. Like I almost cried, and they didn’t even roast my ass. Like Co-Star level bullying. They don’t deserve Beatrice. We do.” 

 “So, bet’s off?” He cracks his knuckles in anticipation. She simply nods. 

 //

 “You bitch. You didn’t have to slam me so fucking hard!” Katara reprimands. Zuko silences her with a passionate kiss that has every emotion she could possibly feel tingling throughout her whole body. She’s pushed up against the fireplace, clutching the wall behind her as though finding something to grind her against Zuko’s fiery passion. They were simply mimicking the rest of the group coming back, girls pressed against the frat brothers, trying to make the most of their remaining high instead of heading to class. 

 They pause to take a breath of air, (they could hear Mai mock gagging in the back) before sending each other a secret nod. 

 “You feel that pucker in your asshole? You know shit’s about to get real,” Katara says in a low voice. 

 Zuko’s slamming her against the fireplace once more, this time Katara’s hand now finding contact with Beatrice herself. In a flash she’s shoving the phallic toy in her jacket, sprinting for the door. 

 Chan, eagle eyed as ever, and experienced in the art of recognizing dildo thievery, instantly shoves Ty Lee off his lap. “Don’t you dare take the fucking house trophy, bitch!” He barely finishes his sentence, before he’s shoved to the ground by an enthusiastic Zuko, who grabs Katara’s hand and breaks into a run. 

 They run, run, run until they reach Zuko’s apartment, collapsing on the patch of fake grass at the front of the building. He still has his hand intertwined with hers, her other hand having a vice like grip on the sex toy. 

 “You know what, I don’t care about making other friends. You’re all I need.” 

 “I know.” Katara can’t stop the smile from growing on her face. 

[yumichanhamano]

Three word ficlet challenge sent by wanlangjis on twitter :)

MDZS Modern AU, idk how to make it work so wwx was trying to DIY a patio at his house and the inspector is coming to check and make sure it’s up to standard but wwx is a disaster so it wasn’t complete :D Enjoy? XD

“The inspector is going to lose their shit when they see this,” Wen Qing groaned.

It started as a simple DIY project that lead to a random concrete slab sitting innocently behind their shared house and nothing else was finished for their supposed patio.

“It looks nice at least!” Wei Ying argued. It was incomplete since Wei Ying had put it off due to emergencies. But the inspector was also scheduled to observe their process and approve of their construction. And yet all he has for show is the still drying concrete that would serve at the base of the patio.

“You should have just paid for a contractor and they would have taken care of this!” Wen Qing scolded. Wei Ying pouted at her while Wen Ning tried to defuse the situation.

“I’ll just be honest and say I was busy so this is all I got right now! It’s not easy being a freelancer and a dad,” Wei Ying defended. He rushed to finish his workload so he could start working on this project. Wen Ning offered to start working on it first, but Wen Qing would have his head if her littler brother was doing all the manual labour while Wei Ying holed himself in his room. And here they were with their barely finished patio.

The house was rather old and tattered, but it was something. They put a lot of work into making it child proof for A-Yuan, but they still wanted to do more so it felt more like home than a random shelter.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Shit,” Wei Ying cursed under his breath while Wen Ning went to greet who they all assumed to be the inspector.

“Ah, hello,” Wen Ning greeted.

“No one answered when I knocked.”

“We were in the backyard. Apologies for the confusion. Please, this way,” Wen Ning said and led the inspector into the backyard.

Before Wei Ying could try to run away from the inevitable, a voice interrupted his overly complicated plans to vault over the fence and into his neighbour’s backyard.

“Wei Ying?”

He turned and stared at the man for more than socially appropriate.

“L-Lan Zhan?”

“You two know each other?” Wen Qing asked, snapping Wei Ying out of his staring. He looked over at her and she looked too amused. He was going to be questioned like a criminal later.

“High school. We went to high school together,” Wei Ying said. For a moment, he was unsure if he should shake Lan Zhan’s hand, but the latter didn’t like touching others so he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Ah, you really haven’t changed much, Lan Zhan. Still prim and proper. So, what are you doing here? I mean, you’re here for the inspection, right? What am I saying? Well, uh, here it is! I didn’t really get to do much between work and taking care of my son, but here’s the base! Pretty good if I say so myself!”

Lan Zhan didn’t spare a chance at the drying concrete and stared at Wei Ying the whole time, making him talk faster than usual.

“A-Ning and I are going to go pick up A-Yuan,” Wen Qing said as she walked around the two of them, half dragging her brother on her way out. Wen Ning made a brief noise of protest but ultimately moved away.

Silence followed their exit. Wei Ying shifted from one foot to another while waiting for a response. He never dealt with silence well, so he opened his mouth to speak, but Lan Zhan beat him to it.

“Your son?”

“Yes!” Wei Ying immediately brightened and pulled out his phone, pulling up his gallery of photos. “He’s the cutest thing. I call him my little radish!” Wei Ying said with all the happiness of a proud father. He showed Lan Zhan the picture he took a few months ago when they went to the park. “He’s the cutest baby in the world! And I’m not saying that because he’s my baby.”

Lan Zhan hummed in quiet agreement and it’s all it took for Wei Ying to relax. They haven’t seen each other since they graduated. Lan Zhan didn’t have social media so it was hard to keep in contact with him.

They had each other’s phone number but Wei Ying thought Lan Zhan didn’t want anything to do with him so he stopped his “text spam” as Jiang Cheng called it, and let the man be at peace for once. Since Lan Zhan never reached out, Wei Ying just concluded that they were nothing more than mere acquaintances that happened to go to high school together.

“Your wife?” Lan Zhan’s deep voice pulled Wei Ying out of his thoughts and he looked dazedly at the sharp jawline before the words registered.

Wei Ying sputtered, “My what???”

“Your wife,” Lan Zhan said, a small crease between his brow formed. “The women from earlier I presume.”

Wei Ying laughed. He laughed so hard that he fell to the ground, uncaring of the grass stains as his stomach cramped at his boisterous laughter.

Lan Zhan hovered above him, unsure of what he did or what to do as Wei Ying cried from laughing so hard.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying giggled at the lost expression on his face. “I- That was the best joke.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Wen Qing is not my wife,” Wei Ying said and took Lan Zhan’s offered hand to stand on his feet again. “God, she would castrate me even before considering marriage. Besides, she’s too busy saving lives to even care about romance. You caught her on her off day while she scolded me about this.” Wei Ying gestured to his project.

“Then your son…”

“Adopted,” Wei Ying grinned. “I still love him lots and lots! He’s their cousin and I helped babysit, but his parents are gone and none of his relatives could keep him long term so he’s mine now!”

“I see,” Lan Zhan said. If Wei Ying didn’t know if he was seeing things, but Lan Zhan’s posture seemed to have relaxed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be here to do your job, Mr. Inspector?” Wei Ying asked. He couldn’t help but tease the man who used to be uninterested in anything Wei Ying did. Now that he had his attention, he was going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“There is not much for me to inspect,” Lan Zhan deadpanned and sent Wei Ying into another round of laughter.

“Ah, I tried my best. Can you like, come back another time when I have finished? I swear I will work on it now! I had to finish up my other project for a client since I promised I would be done before their deadline, but then they pushed it forward. I already lost so many nights of sleep for this and then Wen Qing was busy at work so it was mostly Wen Ning and I taking care of A-Yuan, and let me tell you about toddlers! They’re so fussy and-”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said calmly and Wei Ying immediately stopped talking. “I will reschedule. Is there something else I can help with?”

“No. No, thank you. I appreciate it. Thank you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said in a breath of relief. He wasn’t sure why he was so worked up or rambling about his life problems. But Lan Zhan’s calming presence and soothing voice was effective in calming his nerves.

Lan Zhan pulled out what Wei Ying presumed to be his business card, then pulled out a pen and wrote something on the back.

“If you need anything, call or text me. I will respond when I can.”

Wei Ying held the card and held back a laugh at the boring black and white card. It was so like Lan Zhan to have a boring looking business card. “And on the back?”

“My personal number.” Lan Zhan was looking away when Wei Ying’s head snapped up.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. If you’re so nice to me, I’ll never want to let you go.” Wei Ying couldn’t help but tease.

“Then don’t.”

Wei Ying sucked in his breath at the quiet admission, something stirring in his chest. He moved on, thinking that Lan Zhan hated him, only putting up with him because he was being relentless. But here Lan Zhan was, welcoming him back into his life.

“I’m still annoying.”

“Mm.”

“And I talk a lot.”

“Mm.”

“I talk when I eat!”

“Wei Ying.”

“I forget sometimes. Wen Qing said it was gross when I talk with my mouth full and now A-Yuan is bullying me too.”

“Mm.” Wei Ying noticed a slight smile.

“I’m not the same person I was 3 years ago.”

“Neither am I.”

“You still want to be my friend?” Wei Ying asked.

“En,” Lan Zhan said, smiling softly, “and more if Wei Ying lets me.”

Wei Ying’s brain short-circuited and he let out of a sound that resembled a squeak. He could play it off cool if it was anyone else. But never in front of Lan Zhan. He was one of the few people that saw other sides of him.

“Do you want to meet A-Yuan?” Wei Ying asked as he moved towards the gate. They couldn’t enter through the backdoor because of the still drying concrete so they had to go around to the front of the house. “They should be home soon, if not already. He’s a little shy at first, but he’s a friendly kid.”

“I would love to.”

[monstaxardeur]

Warnings: Mature, Angst, Death

Kihyun stirred in his sleep and he instinctively tried to look for you next to him under the covers, when he found the bed empty he panicked a bit and looked around only to realize it'd been raining. The patter of rain was really loud and there were gentle sounds of thunder far off, he stepped out into the lounge to find you by the small balcony window, your hands outstretched and you were partially soaked. But he really couldn't forget that smile on your face, you smiled and he didn't think anything could bring him as much joy as it did seeing you like that. You had that childlike gleam and the soft laughter when the rain tickled you picking up speed and you reached for the window to close it but left one side open. You turned around to see him awake and smiled shyly as he felt a smirk tug at his lips at your reaction, it was cute to him. He grabbed a towel to dry you up and you found it odd how your communication with him was mostly actions and reading each other instead of talking, you two barely talked. What would a hunter and a corrupted vampire being have to talk about anyway, both of you were scared of confused emotions surfacing to the tongue, what if you drifted apart? But you wished to make small talk today, you seemed to muster courage but fail each time, he noticed at the second and third attempt as he dabbed the soft fabric over your face. He concentrated on how you fidgeted with your shirt's hem and opened your mouth faintly to speak again but before you could he silenced you with a tender kiss. He had a lot to say but felt it was better if he just showed it like he always had. He was nervous about your reaction but was fairly surprised and relieved seeing how easily you gave in, how weakly you caved to his mere touch of love, you shared his sentiments.

You were lead back to the bedroom and he was so gentle yet at the same time extremely passionate, you felt the intensity the need for him to ravage you but he held back letting you catch your breathe, knowing very well your impulses could lose control. He was walking a dangerous path but seeing your reaction assured him you had control right now. His strong arms gripped you firmly as he had you pinned to the bed, bodies attached so sinfully close and he hated to give space but the clothes were getting in his way and he was hasty with the way he got rid of his shirt. Once he tossed the shirt away he noticed you unbutton yourself for him too and he helped peeling it off kissing all those unmarked places that were so supple and virgin to him. You whimpered and he grew weak, for someone who barely spoke gosh you really made him weak and he tried nipping at that weak spot and you let out a satisfied whimper wrapping your arms and legs around him. The friction of his hard on against your core was driving you crazy and you traced his toned form and tugged at his slacks before your hands slipped under briefly, your neediness showed and he stopped you knowing how crazy it would drive him and he really didn't want to go rough on you. "That's a dangerous move love." he whispered above your lips and your face turned crimson from embarrassment and he grinned, smirking into your neck as he lead kisses down and forced open your legs apart. That dainty little panty of yours stood no chance and tore easily when he used a little force to pull it down. It didn't matter really you were too busy muffling your moans as his digits worked your folds, he saw you cover your face as if embarrassed at yourself and he removed your hands away letting you see him, he desperately needed that connection and his fingers traced over your bruised lips and he saw you sigh in need of him as your hands clawed his chest a little. He freed himself from the constraints of his slacks before aligning himself to you, he grunted feeling how tight you were and opened your legs a little more pulling you closer by the edge of the bed where he had you. He pressed his thumb across the length if your sensitive nub and watched you arch your back, he knew he had you where he needed you. "Please I need you." You spoke in soft whimpers and he finally started moving in seeing even if he was gentle he had gotten you impatient and he kept up his pace as he held you in his arms, fingers weaving in your damp hair and kisses all wet and bruising. You were a soft moaning mess and he propped himself up with his arms on your sides and watched how he worked you, moving deeper and faster getting erratic, his brows knitted and he watched you whine in your moans, you were close and your nails dug deep red marks on his taut arms before you almost let out a muffled scream reaching yor climax. He chased his high and you watched him while you heaved and pulled him close for softer kisses, your actions may have been the final blow and he came deep inside you and stayed in you for a while. Your soft kisses compared to his were turning him putty in your arms, he realized you had that touch that dangerous touch that broke him for he was just man who'd fallen in love. He gently lifted you to sit up and may have taken his sweet time making out with you until you two eventually scooted under the covers and dozed.

It had been a peaceful slumber tangled in the sheets with your new found lover except you weren't normal. You felt that wicked urge creep up inside you, it made your tongue feel dry at first and you flailed your arms for help but then your inner demon literally wanted to lunge at whoever was next to you for the blood source and you went pale realizing what was happening. Instead of flailing now you were pushing Kihyun away and you wriggled out of bed grabbing your discarded clothes and trying to find a place to close yourself up. Strong pair of arms got you back to your senses and he saw those blood shot eyes and your skin losing color. "No..no stay away from me, please…I can't control myself." You whimpered as tears rolled down your face. "Look at me, it's okay, you're okay. Just take a deep breathe and focus on me." You listened to him and he made you sit by the bedside getting those iv's and medicines and those blood dosages and slowly as the tubes fed you blood you calmed down. You were still crying and Kihyun sat close by, he touched foreheads with you and held your hands. You were wearing his shirt and he was just in his boxers, hes thumb pads rubbed circles on your knuckles to calm you when you finally spoke, "I'm so sorry.…I was just so scared...I didn't want to hurt you. I am terrified of losing you.."  your words trailed. 

'terrified of losing you..' the words echoed in your head.

A few tears had stained the pages and the ink bled through. You put the little notebook away, the notebook with many lose papers buried in it. You dragged the shall around you to keep you warm and dwelled on that memory before breaking out of the trance. 

How long had it been since he'd been gone? You lost track of time. It was suppose to be a usual hunting trip and he'd sometimes be a little late but this time.…he hadn't returned. You were worried and thought of going after him but realized you were locked in...but of course he had to lock you in, you were a monster right? Initially you felt betrayed and hurt but then as more time passed, you started to ask yourself 'is he even alive?' You were grieving quietly, you couldn't think he would just abandon you like that. All these memories reminded you that you two really were in love even if it was all nameless but now it pained you to think something worse might have happened. During all of this emotional trauma you were also slowly running low on rations, you were out of everything...even the blood doses. You spiraled down back to the horrid condition he had found you in. This time your will was diminished.

It had gotten cold for you, extremely cold, the black veined marks tattooed your skin in different patches and grew slowly and painfully. You put away the letters and love notes you wrote to him and dragged yourself back to bed. You wore his clothes and slipped under the quilts. You had accepted your inevitable fate...

~

Kihyun had a fractured rib and severe cuts and bruises that took a while to heal, he was kept sedated and rested at his teammates place. None of them knew he had left someone behind so they didn't know why he was so jittery and panicked when he came to. They didn't let him leave seeing his condition but he sneaked past them not caring if he worsened his battle wounds. He drove back home, an hours worth of drive. He felt like his soul would literally escape him the more he came closer to his apartment. He barged in and felt the ominous chilly air, something bad had happened he could feel it. He trode carefully towards your room and he felt his heart choke, you were there on the bed in a death like slumber. He cupped your face trying to find signs if life, of warmth. He was crying profusely when he noticed you stir faintly and he brought your hands to his lips kissing them softly and tried to hold in his sobs. "It's me, I'm here love, it's going to be okay." He spoke merely above a whisper, you seemed to have trouble breathing and he realized you were on your last breathes, somehow you held on this long just for him. You didn't speak nor did you open your eyes but he could see you were in agony even if it didn't show in your face. Kihyun gently stroked your cheeks realizing he had to let you out of this misery, "It's okay you can let go now, I'm here.." He spoke to you in between hiccups accepting painfully the outcome and he finally you let go. Your body went limp and cold and Kihyun broke down, he wailed crying after you. You were gone and he blamed himself.

In your letters to him, you told him to forgive himself and to move on, not even once did you ask him to remember you instead you requested he forgets your paths had crossed so he could move on but his love for you had been so rare and true that he kept your photo in his wallet making everyone think he had a girl back home, no one knew you were a dead lover he never ever got over.