#all the building should have ended when they finish that bloody swimming pool

[neverforpickles]

I looked at my bank statement activity and I am kinda pissed too early in the morning because my family has this weird obsession of constantly building another houses and I have to pay for the fuckin labourers. They costs money and I cannot save money. In my own opinion we do not need more than four houses. and additional useless two kitchens on top of the other four houses. god dammit. We do not even use that other two extra kitchens and they have like big spaces that already can serve as a house for an entire family. Ahhhh i wanna scream

[blessednereid]

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

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Career Day

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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

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L/N Residence

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You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

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Announcement

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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

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Auditions

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You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

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Headmasters Office

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A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

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First Rehearsal

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After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

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The Talk

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"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

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Confrontation

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"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

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Opening Night

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Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

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The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

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You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

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Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Fred Weasley x Reader Smut- Part Three of Three

Summer couldn't have rolled round quick enough, with you and Freddie literally counting down the days until your little getaway in Greece. You ended up choosing a private villa for the pair of you to stay in rather than a hotel, wanting as much privacy as you could. You'd be lying if you said you wasn't hoping that this week would be THE week you and Fred finally went all the way. Spending the majority of your life at school definitely meant the chances of having any privacy was extremely minimal- the closest you ever got was feeling each other up in the corridor at night. That was short-lived since Snape rudely decided to walk by and interrupt you. Speaking of interruptions, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of suitcase wheels coming along the gravel by the Burrow.

"Ready, Princess?" George winked holding Fred's bag and offered his arm out to you.

"Nice try, George." You grinned, waving at Fred jogging behind him.

"Oi you sod I've been looking for that for ages." Fred shouted, taking his bag from his brother.

"Worth a shot, Greece sounded nice." George pouted, folding his arms like a child.

"Sorry Georgie, maybe next time?" You punched his shoulder lightly and hooked your arms with Fred's ready to be on your way.

"Maybe when I get myself a woman. Wouldn't want to be third wheeling on your shag-fest anyway." George grinned. You felt your cheeks burn a little and shot George the finger as you got into your car. "Ever the charmer, Y/N. Don't rush back from Greece too quickly." Molly came out of the Burrow to say her own goodbyes.

"Oh have fun you two! It's going to be so lovely just the two of you for a week, make the most of it..."

"Believe you me mother dearest, they'll make the most of every second." George teased.

"Oh.. OH." Molly began. "Last time your father and I had time away I found out I was pregnant with Ginny a few weeks later."

"MUM" George doubled over in laughter at Fred's expense.

"I'm just saying.."

"Right goodbye we're off!" Fred pushed you in the car and climbed in beside you, nodding to the driver to go.

"Well that wasn't-"

"Awkward in the slightest? Welcome to the family Princess." Fred finished. You smiled and decided to tease him over his words.

"I'm one of the family now then am I? Should I be expecting a proposal?" Fred's face reddened and he began to ramble.

"No obviously not. Well, not OBVIOUS. I'm sure I will ask you one day. Maybe? Would you want that?" He stuttered.

"One of my greatest achievements in this world is being able to make the one and only Fred Weasley blush and stumble over his words with so much ease." You smirked, reaching over to hold his hand in your smaller one.

"I honestly don't know how you do it, it's embarrassing. George rips the shit out of me for it."

"Embarrassing as it may be, you're really cute when you're flustered. Besides, we have a Georgeless week ahead of us so I can't promise I won't do it more often sunshine." You squeezed Fred's cheeks with your spare hand and kissed his pouted lips for emphasis. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you.

"Really landed myself an odd one didn't I?"

"You love me really."

"Yeah I guess you're alright." He teased, shooting you a wink. You grinned and rested your head on his shoulder for the last short part of the journey.

(I honestly have no idea how I could make a plane journey the slightest bit interesting so I'm skipping to the villa, sorry lmao)

The plane journey thankfully went smoothly and the pair of you soon found yourself walking through the front doors of the villa.

"Bloody hell." Fred looked around at the large holiday home in awe.

"Nice huh? I don't think I chose too badly.."

"Too badly? This place is amazing." You grabbed Fred's hand and started to walk through the building.

"Come on let's get changed I'm sweating so much in these clothes I fear I'll leave a puddle." You groaned, dragging him to the bedroom.

"Wow what a gorgeous mental image that created. How could I ever resist you now?" Fred placed his hand over his heart and followed your lead.

"You're lucky you're cute"

"So you've said."

"Fred Weasley put on your bloody swimming shorts and meet me by the pool in 5 minutes or I swear to all that is holy I will throw you in there in your clothes." You warned playfully. Fred grabbed his trunks from his bag and stood back in front of you.

"I like it when you get all dominant."

"Go!" You laughed, pushing him out of the bedroom door while you got into your own swimsuit. You couldn't help the childish giddiness that built up inside you at the thought of seeing Fred in just his swimwear. Even though you had spent the last few days at the burrow you didn't get any further than a short make-out session that was disturbed by George walking into the bedroom. In his defence it was his room too but you still felt disappointed. And the burrow was so cold despite it being the summer months that Fred was in more layers than you had ever seen him in so you'd be lying if you said you wasn't disappointed you still hadn't seen so much as Fred shirtless.

You walked your way round to the pool and looked to see Fred sitting on a sunbed with his eyes closed, his pale skin shining in the European sun. You took in his features from the distance, from his lightly toned stomach, to the array of freckles that covered his skin and finally the patch of ginger hair that trailed from his chest and created a thin line leading to the waistband of his shorts.

"You know perversion isn't okay even if you're a woman." Fred shouted, his eyes still shut. "I know I look like I've been chiselled by the gods but ogling is a vile thing to do to a person. I'm not an object." He teased. You walked closer to him and grinned.

"Is it still perversion if I'm looking at my boyfriend? You can hardly blame me, with you clearly being sculpted by the hand of god himself." Fred opened his eyes hearing your voice was closer to him and his mouth opened slightly as he looked at you and stood up.

"Speaking of being sculpted by the hand of god.." He trailed off, pulling you closer to him by your hand. You blushed and shied your head away. Fred turned your face back towards his and kissed you, his hand slowly moving to rest on the bare skin above your hip. "You're gorgeous love." He complimented.

"Who's ogling now?"

"Can you blame me?" He whispered, moving to kiss you again. You leaned in and stopped just as your lips were about to touch.

"I hope you can swim Weasley."

"What are yo-" You grabbed both of his hand and turned, pushing him in the pool. Unfortunately for you, growing up with so many brothers left Fred with impeccable reflexes and he managed to pull you with him, the pair of you landing with a huge splash. Once you reached the surface of the water you started to splash Fred, laughing and swimming away as fast as you could when he started to chase you. "Now that, Miss L/N, wasn't very nice now was it?" He grabbed you from behind and turned you round to be flush against his body. "Naughty girl." He breathed, moving your soaked hair out of your face as he stared into your eyes, his hands roaming your body.

"Sorry Freddie." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "How about we kiss and make up?" You suggested, pressing your foreheads together. Fred leaned forward until your lips touched, skilfully running his tongue along your bottom lip and lifting your legs to wrap round his waist under the water. You pulled away breathless and looked into Fred's eyes, noticing they were much darker than they usually are.

"I don't know Y/N, I'm still pretty mad. Want to go apologise elsewhere?" He moved his hands round to your arse and squeezed hard enough to make you gasp

"Our clothes are soaked.."

"I don't know about you darling but I wasn't planning on leaving them on." And with that you were hoisted out of the pool and had Fred's hands on you in seconds, lifting you back up and guiding you to the bedroom. He put you down when you stepped into the room, his mouth latching onto yours and his hands untying your bikini top and moving to pull it over your head before he stopped completely and looked at you, his face turning concerned for a moment. "You're okay with this right? I'm not.. going too fast? Because I can stop if you want me to." He spoke, softly putting his hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. You stepped back and took off the top yourself, throwing it across the room and putting your hands on his bare chest.

"Fred if you stop I may go insane. I've wanted you for years, I'm not going to stop it finally happening."

"Thank god for that.." He ran his fingers down your sides and pushed you onto the bed. Fred crawled over the top of you and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear. "Can't be ruining the bed now can we?" He winked, pulling them down your legs and throwing them behind you. You sat up and pulled at his swim shorts.

"Same goes for you Freddie." He grinned and kicked his shorts away, pushing you to the back of the bed and hovering over you.

"God you're beautiful." He breathed, looking from your face and then allowing his eyes to scan the rest of your body. You couldn't help but let your own gaze drop to Fred's hard cock that pressed against his stomach.

"And you're huge. Jesus Fred." He smirked and moved his face to the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking along your jawline while you writhed beneath him. Your hands roamed wherever you could reach of his body and you moaned obscenely loud as he kissed your sweet spot, sucking a dark purple mark on your skin. "Fred.." You moaned again, feeling him smile against your neck. His lips began to roam south as he made similar marks along your collarbone, your back arching to meet his mouth as he suddenly sucked your nipple into his mouth, massaging your other breast with his hand. He paid your other breast the same attention before kissing down your stomach and moving between your thighs. His teeth nipped at your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your core. "Freddie please.." You groaned, fisting your hands into the bedsheets.

"You need only ask Princess." Fred winked, darting out his tongue to slowly lick your aching clit. You moved your hips closer to his face, desperate for any relief and bit your knuckle to stop yourself moaning too loudly. "We're finally on our own in the middle of nowhere. Be as loud as you can sweetheart, let me hear you." His breath over you sent a shiver through your body. You didn't get a chance to respond before he began to aggressively lick and suck at your clit, your voice coming out in a guttural moan as your hands instinctively went to grab at his hair. His fingers moved from keeping your legs spread to begin circling your entrance. Suddenly he inserted a finger into you, curling it and pumping at a steady pace as your breath began to hitch in your throat.

"Fred- ah fuck." You moaned, tightening your fingers into his red locks. You threw your head backwards and closed your eyes as he inserted another finger into you, pumping mercilessly as his tongue gently licked at your clit.

"You're so gorgeous." Fred whispered, picking up his pace and bending his fingers to hit that one spot over and over again.

"Freddie please- I'm-ah I'm gonna-" Your voice came out strangled as your legs began to tremble and your stomach knotted.

"Cum for me then Princess." His voice was enough to tip you over the edge. Your vision turned white and you saw stars before you looked down and saw Fred grinning at you, his chin glistening. He crawled back up your body and moved your hair out of your face as you caught your breath back. You quickly pulled him towards you by the nape of his neck and kissed him. "Fancy carrying on or are you all spent for now?" Fred asked you sweetly, though the smirk on his face showed how proud he was for the effect he had over you. You leant up and pecked him on the lips as your hands raked down his chest to his hard cock.

"I think it's your turn sweetheart." You smirked, giving him a teasing squeeze before flipping the two of you over. You laid between Fred's thighs and licked him from base to tip, giving a slow suck to his throbbing head and tasting the pre-cum that had formed at the tip. His breath hitched in his throat and he quickly grabbed your shoulder to stop you.

"Y/N while the mere thought of your pretty mouth being wrapped about me sounds incredible I honestly don't think I'll be able to last for the main event." He admitted, pulling you back up towards him and groaning loudly as you started to grind your hips against him.

"'The main event'? What a romantic way to put it." You grinned.

"What would you rather? Vaginal interc-"

"No no. Main event was nicer." You laughed, letting him turn you back over again so he was hovering above you. He smiled and reconnected your lips, tracing his fingers to your hand and pulling it above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His other hand fell down to your hip as he raised it slightly, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Ready darling?" You could only nod back at him, far too eager for him to finally fill you in the way you've dreamed of for far too long. He pushed into you slowly, the pair of you moaning into each other's mouths until he filled you to the hilt. Fred was a hell of a lot larger than you anticipated and you had to take a moment to adjust to the size of him before he could even think about moving.

"Jesus Freddie you're so big." You moaned, clenching your walls around him. Between the surprise of your movements and your words replaying in your mind Fred's head shot into the crook of your neck as he bit onto your shoulder blade to compose himself, anything to distract him from his want to move. You wrapped your arms under his and gripped onto his back, moving your hips against his to let him know you were ready. Immediately Fred's hips started to move and you couldn't help but moan out his name with each thrust, pulling him by his hair to meet your lips as he picked up speed. His fingers dug into your thighs so hard you were convinced he left bruises as he pulled out of you halfway before slamming himself back into you. Your nails dug in and began to rake down his back, risen red marks forming a trail behind them. His hands moved to your hips and squeezed, his thrusts becoming slower but sharper as he began to hit that spot over and over again. His voice came out in grunts, heavy breathing sounding between each movement as he felt himself being pushed closer to the edge.

"I'm not- fuck- I won't last much longer love." He breathed.

"Me neither." You let out your words with a small squeak as his thumb reached over and began to rub circles on your already aching clit.

"Come on Princess. Cum with me." He groaned, his movements becoming sloppy as he clung on to his last bits of sanity. You gripped onto him tighter as pleasure shot through your body; your release hitting you like a ton of bricks as you felt him finish inside of you, filling you up completely while your name loudly fell from his lips. His movements slowed before he pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you beside him and tucking your form under his arm.

"That was-"

"Yeah-" You turned to face him, wiping his hair from his sweaty forehead and moving up to kiss his lips.

"I wish we didn't have to wait that long." You admitted. He smiled and squeezed you closer towards him.

"We're never waiting that long again. I'll have you in a bloody cupboard if I have to when we go back." He spoke, making you laugh beside him.

"As long as Snape doesn't come by again you can have me wherever you want Weasley." Suddenly the humidity of the Greek weather hit you and you found it even harder to breathe in the room. "I think we should go back out to the pool, it's too hot in here." Fred smirked and traced his hand down your bare body, the hand behind your shoulder grabbing your boob and giving it a teasing squeeze. You moaned and moved into his touch.

"I'll go back out to the pool with you... if your swimming suit stays discarded in that corner for the rest of the week." He bit your ear playfully and you gave in immediately. "Good girl." He praised, standing up and leading you back outside and into the pool. You swam over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his already hard cock pressed against your thigh.

"Someone's eager." You teased, rubbing your leg against his length. "Do you truly want me again already?"

"Darling if I could have you pressed up naked against me every second of the day I'd be in paradise." He lifted you by your ass and pressed his tip against your entrance, dipping in the tiniest amount before pulling away again. "Now.. let's see how big of a splash we can make."

[masterwords]

Morgan gets hurt and Hotch is blaming himself. He knows Morgan's fine - it was just a bump on the back of the head, didn't even need stitches. But the man he loves just got hurt because he wasn't aware of his surroundings. It's his job as a leader to be aware of everything, think of every scenario and he feels like he's failed.

(just thought of this thought I'd share lol)

Okay, so...Morgan did need stitches here...but I was watching "About Face" (Season 3) and this ask just struck me with inspiration. Changing up the end of the episode, in my version the unsub gets the shot off as Morgan steps out of the elevator right before Rossi finishes things up. Just for fun, super short. I kinda fucked up your ask, but I tried to stay true to the idea of it even if the details got majorly effed...I'm sorry for that! I hope you don't mind.

Thank you for the ask and I'm sorry I got to it so late, sometimes I just have to wait for inspiration to strike so I can do them justice! <3

Warnings: gunshot, blood, stitches (graphic description)

Words: ~1000

**

“DOWN!”

It all happens so fast after that. Fast but somehow in slow motion.

The gun is aimed, Morgan drops to the ground but not before the bullet is fired. Not before it glides effortlessly over his skin, splitting it open as he falls. Hotch watches the way it slices through the shirt, carves a path over the mound of his shoulders but can't move out of the way fast enough, the bullet catches him too on its wayward route through the lobby. He drops his weapon, throws it really like it's molten, gun clatters to the floor and his knuckles split open, skin curling back to reveal sopping pools of crimson. It's hypnotizing. He blinks once and it's over.

It's Rossi that ends it, his bullet tears through the unsub and puts him down. Hundreds of people in the lobby of the building and everyone is silent, three people bleeding, one dead. Not how Hotch wanted it to go.

Also not surprising. The way Rossi had forced their hand, baited the unsub, taunted him. He should have seen it coming anyway, seen that it was always going to end badly but he didn't prepare for it. Thought they could somehow come out on top, they usually found a way.

Hotch's gun rests next to Morgan on the ground. He sees it there, sees Morgan trying not to show how much pain he was in as his shirt soaks with blood, turns from brown to red like a painter using watercolors. Morgan who is trying to direct the scene, scrambling to his feet like he's not bleeding. Maybe he doesn't know he's bleeding. Hotch does, he knows Morgan is bleeding in the same way he knows he is bleeding, he feels it scorching him. It tastes like failure, makes him want to retch. Then again, maybe that's the pain, his hand is on fire, he can't bend his fingers and he thinks he can see bone. (He can't, they're just spots in his vision, he knows it somewhere deep inside as his world swims in and out of focus.)

“Did I mention I hate Halloween?” Morgan grunts while the EMT cleans and bandages up his back. His shirt is off, blood soaked in a heap on the ground at their feet. Hotch's jacket rests beside it, soaking up what the shirt couldn't hold. He's sitting beside Morgan, EMTs working at their wounds in unison. There is a deep gash on the back of his hand, less scary now that it's been cleaned up, now that the bleeding has slowed. He's glad he can't see Morgan's back, he's already feeling nauseous over the way things had happened, it would send him over the top. He focuses on his hand, the way the skin pulls back and reveals his meat, nothing but a bloody pulp. Has to look away when they pull out the needles, give him some local anesthetic so they can start stitching up what they're able to pull back together. The EMT says he's lucky the bullet grazed Morgan first or he'd be losing the hand but he'd rather Morgan not be hurt at all. He's cradling his hand in his lap while they work, like that'll help or give him some comfort but it fucking hurts and he feels like a big baby while Morgan does his best to distract him. Morgan probably hurts worse but he can't see it, can't watch the needles pulling that coarse black thread through tender skin, and that's a blessing. “Beers and a movie. You and me.”

Morgan had been a little more attentive to Hotch since Haley left, he didn't think anyone else had noticed but it was not lost on him. Maybe there was something there, maybe there wasn't, Hotch isn't sure whether his signals were crossed and he doesn't really care much. What he does care about is that an ice cold beer sounded good, and that he was going to be using his right hand to eat and drink for a day or two because his entire left arm was fire, from fingertips to shoulder. He likes the way it makes him feel, to be the center of Morgan's attention, even if he doesn't feel even remotely worthy of it. Especially now, if he'd just made a better plan, if he'd told Morgan to stay in the elevator, he didn't know what he could have done but the stitches going into Morgan's back were his fault.

“What movie?” Hotch asks, cocking an eyebrow. He swallows hard, focuses on the depth of the mahogany and burnt reds in Morgan's eyes, thinks maybe he's going to pass out but stays upright. “Reid said they're playing a Bela Lugosi marathon...”

“Anything but that. Literally anything. Hotch, I will watch one of your long, boring Titanic documentaries if you want, just not fucking Hallow – OUCH, watch it man! - Halloween movies. Fuck Halloween.” Hotch smiles and nods, he understands. He loves Halloween, wishes he could be home with Jack to take him trick or treating, to see what he was dressed as this year. Beer and a movie with Morgan in Dallas sounded good, too.

Dave watches the two of them from the lobby as the scene breaks up, the unsub is zipped into the body bag and carted off. Witnesses are interviewed, the team ties up loose ends and he watches Hotch smiling, laughing. He realizes what Hotch was trying to tell him before, that this BAU isn't the same as when he left. They are more of a family than the team of colleagues he'd left when he retired. He couldn't fathom Gideon or Max sitting beside him, laughing while being stitched up. None of them ever bothered to provide comfort or support, not like this. But that's exactly what Hotch and Morgan were doing. They'd been hurt but they were fine because they were in it together, and even if Hotch would blame himself for the foreseeable future, even if Morgan would go about his day pretending to be totally fine because he knows how Hotch is, they were in it together. (Although there were moments, little flashes of something that told him maybe this was more than just family. Maybe there was another connection here he hadn't considered, but he wasn't going to dive into that one today.) He wondered if this was what Gideon had done when he left, taken it from a group of colleagues working separate but side by side to a family who loved and cared for one another.

He wasn't sure yet if he could do it or where he would fit into this dynamic, but he didn't mind the idea of trying.

[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 27: Cat and Mouse

The Thurman Show

~

[alarm blares]

SAM YAO: Five, Five! Get up, get moving. Something's triggered the mall's alarms and every zom in earshot's shambling towards your location. You need to get warmed up if you're gonna stay ahead of them. Head out of the room into the corridor.

[door opens] There should be a couple more doors at the end of the corridor. Open the first one, and – [zombie roars] Aw crap! Zoms. Slam it, quick! [door shuts] All right, we'll try straight on. Zoms that way, too. And behind you! They're blocking all our exits.

Okay, okay. Just-just think. Wait a minute, is that an open door straight ahead of you? I don't remember that being there before. And uh, no, it's not on the map. It's painted, so you'd hardly be able to see it if it weren't opne. Well, it's the best option we've got. Head through... [door opens and closes]

Ah yeah, I can see you on my cams now, Five. There's a staircase down. Wow, those steps go down a really long way. You better get moving and I'll... I'll try and work out where you're moving to.

~

SAM YAO: I can't find the staircase anywhere on the map. There shouldn't be anything this deep under the mall, but I'm getting camera access as you go down, like... like the whole place is waking up around you. You've reached the bottom, Five. There are zoms on the stairs behind you, but there's a door ahead of you you can lock from the other side.

[door opens and closes] Right, more cams turning on, and then I can tell where you are. [door creaks open] Okay... you're in a wardrobe. In a bedroom. Right, that's a bit surreal. Get out and close the wardrobe behind you, okay? [door closes]

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Welcome to your new apartment, employee! Overwhelmed? Take a moment and breathe it all in. Need to escape from it all? Well, there's your 13-inch color TV complete with walnut cabinet and Betamax video recorder!

SAM YAO: A recording of Thurman's voice. What's going on? It's like you're in a show house or something. Look for a way out, Five, I don't want you trapped in there.

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Not in the mood for telly? [continues in background]

SAM YAO: It's like you've walked into the 80s. And everything's so clean. It looks box fresh. If anyone was supposed to live here, they never turned up. Right, there are zoms behind the wardrobe, so you're not going that way. Front door's locked... you're gonna have to kick it in, Janine-style.

Right, stand with one foot in front of the other about shoulder-width apart. Lift your back leg and bend it, keeping your knee as high as you can, and kick your heel straight out in front of you, remembering not to lock your knee, okay?

Go for it. Aim your heel at the door hinges. You can lean on the wall for balance if you need to. Pull your toes back as you kick, otherwise you might break them on the wood. All right, swap to the other leg, now same again. Knee up, kick out. Yep, yep, you're definitely getting there. Fantastic, Five! You've got legs like, like... a donkey. But in a good way. Yes, you're through!

Head out into the corridor. Cams are showing me you're on the ground floor of an apartment block. The doors either side of you must lead into other flats. Go straight ahead and you'll get to the main door. Did you hear that? Flies, buzzing behind the doors of those flats.

I don't want to know what's in there. Get out of the building. If the main door won't open, you know what to do. I don't understand what's going on here, Five, or why the zoms were suddenly like, herding you here, but we've got to get you out.

~

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Welcome to Thurmanville, loyal employee! To reward your tenacity, creativity, grace under fire, you've earned what everyone wants: citizenship in my own personal utopia!

SAM YAO: It's so weird. It looks like you're in a cookie cutter suburb from an American movie. Huge pastel houses with swimming pools, massive cars. But the trees are... plastic. And it's empty, like a ghost town. I think something very bad happened here. The apartment block you just came out of, someone's written inside the window with lipstick, I think. It says, “Help us.”

I can see Thurman! He's here! He just walked out of that same apartment block. Oh, he looks angry. He's looking for you, Five. Duck behind the hedge now! [foliage rustles] Okay, I can get you away. Commando crawl. Stay low to the ground and crawl forward on your forearms. Go. Thurman still looks exactly like he did in his videos. Could it be his son? It's a pretty uncanny resemblance, if it is. He's quartering the area, pacing up and down. You've got to keep moving.

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Don't you dare let Thurman down!

SAM YAO: Five, just keep moving. He hasn't seen you, just keep going. Okay, right, that wall will break his line of sight. When you're ready, head for the next building, but stay low.

~

SAM YAO: Okay, Five, he's moved on. Head towards the convenience store ahead of you. I had a look on ROFFLEnet, and I don't know if this is good or bad, but I think I know where you are.

Remember how Thurman wanted to create a bunker that would survive the nuclear apocalypse? Well, there were rumors he built a whole underground town. It was supposed to be for him and the people he thought were worthy of joining him. I guess that includes you, Five.

So there must be a lift back up or another set of stairs, right? But until we find them, you need to steer clear of Thurman. God knows what he wants you for, or what happened to the people who were supposed to live here.

[door opens, bell rings]

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Welcome to Thurmart, where you can support your town through the magic of capitalism 24/7.

SAM YAO: There's a lot of food in here, Five. You could hole up in here for months, if you really like weird-colored soda and tins of hot dogs. Yeah, you'd better crank those storm shutters down, I don't want Thurman to see you inside. Grab the handle and move it up and down like your bicep curls, yeah?

Oh no, Thurman heard the shutters rattling! He's coming. Keep going, Five. They're good and thick, they're your best chance at keeping him out. Halfway. Keep cranking the handle. You're doing so well. Nearly there, Five, but so is Thurman. Keep going. That's great, Five. The shutters are down.

ARTEMUS THURMAN: I'm not finished yet.

SAM YAO: Bloody hell, he's hitting the shutters with his fists. I can't believe how strong he is. What's he done to himself? The shutters won't keep him out for long. There's no back door, but there should be a fire escape on the first floor. Head up the stairs, and mind that fruit display! You're going to - ooh... knock it all over. The fruit, Five. It's plastic, like the trees outside. The food in here, it's-it's all fake. Get up those stairs, Five. Yep, that's brilliant. You're nearly there.

Oh God, there's someone up ahead lying on the floor. He's dead, long dead. Except the body, it's-it's not decomposed, just sort of uh... it's dried out, almost mummified, like there's no bacteria in the atmosphere. And there's some of that fake fruit in his mouth. I think he was trying to eat it when he died.

I don't understand, Five. Why bring someone down here just for them to starve to death? It's-it's monstrous! The shutters won't last for long. If there's a fire escape, Five, you'll need to use the handle to crank down the ladder. Hurry!

~

SAM YAO: Okay, I've found a lift shaft on the plans that will get you back up to ground level. I think it might be in the tall building to your right, the one that says Thurman High. Smash the window and get inside. [glass shatters] You're in, Five. Man, it's like stepping into the high school from every American kids' TV show, except it looks brand new and completely empty.

Okay, go straight past that row of lockers towards the trophy cabinet. Wow, there's even a poster for the prom, Summer 1989. We never had anything like this when I was at school. I suppose Thurman thought America was the ideal of capitalism or something.

Yep, there's the lift. Press the call button quick. It's not coming. Maybe it's stuck on a higher level. Get up there and see if you can unjam it. [glass shatters in the distance] Thurman smashed a window and he's climbing through! Oh, his face, Five. He looks so angry. What does he want? Get up those stairs, go.

There's another body on the stairs. I think... I know who she is. Keep moving. All that noise has attracted some zoms. The woman on the stairs, she's a New Canton runner, vanished six weeks ago on a meds run. Her mum offered a reward on ROFFLEnet. Her name was Marsha. I guess we know what happened to her.

You're nearly there, Five. If you can get to the lift, we can get you out of there. Keep climbing. You're there, and there's the lift! Ah, but there's no up button! It's not the one to the surface. I'm so sorry, Five. Okay, there's a corridor ahead of you. I think it's a connecting bridge over to the next building. I'll get you out, just keep going.

~

ARTEMUS THURMAN: Welcome to the Thurman Institute of Technology, where today's dreams become tomorrow's reality.

SAM YAO: Five, there's a mob of zoms chasing you. Head for that sturdy-looking laboratory door past the robotics department, the one marked longevity research. I've watched the tapes back. Thurman definitely set off the alarms in the mall to use the zombies to herd you down here, just like we did to him with the water, but we can use that trick, too. [door shuts] Brace the door. You need to stop the zoms coming in. Remember your wall sitting?

Get your back pressed to the door in a sitting position, your knees over your ankles, and hold it as long as you can. Yeah, keep bracing, Five. And there's another dead body slumped over that workbench. Oh, I hate this place! She's holding... is that a Dictaphone?

[alarm blares] Okay, right, I've set off the fire alarm to distract the zoms. Thurman must be bringing people down here just like he did with you. The zoms are starting to disperse. Is it all some sort of sick game for Thurman, luring people here just to watch them die? I won't let that happen to you.

Okay, the zombies have gone, you can relax. Damn it, here comes Thurman again! Quick, Five, open the door and - No! There's no door handle on the inside! You need to find a way out before Thurman comes in, but there's no other door. That must be how the poor dead scientist got trapped. There's... there's no way out.

Hang on a minute, loads of the food's piled up around that cupboard in the wall, like it fell out... It's a dumbwaiter, Five! That's it, that's the shaft back to ground level. I think... I think I can reroute power to it long enough to get you out of there. Just give me a minute to uh... Yep, yep, it's working!

Grab the Dictaphone, we'll listen to it later. Might be something on the tape that'll explain this place. Now wedge yourself in the dumbwaiter in your wall sitting position and hit the switch. Yes! It worked. You're going up, Five. And in the nick of time, too.

ARTEMUS THURMAN: You're one of the lucky ones, one of my chosen ones. No matter how far you go, there'll always be a home waiting for you in Thurmanville. There'll always be a home waiting for you... always waiting for you... always...

~

SAM YAO: Thank God you're out of there. For a moment, I thought I'd lost you for good, but you're safe now. You can't be comfy, squeezed into a tiny food elevator, but you're nearly back at ground level and Thurman's hundreds of feet below ground along with all the zoms. The worst thing is he seems to be obsessed with you, Five. We need to figure out what's going on down there or we'll never be able to stop him.

Oh... that's weird. Your headcam’s glitching. Back on the surface, Five. Time for you to get some rest. There's someone there, Five, waiting for you outside the dumbwaiter. But that's not possible. How could he be here so quickly? It's... Thurman.

~

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time Playlist

Mat Cauthon/Tuon Paendrag: The Soundtrack

Direct link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1LWolFwiwWQtcnQV7zceMj

30 songs, 1 hr 43 min. This is my take on the canonical arc of Mat Cauthon and Tuon Paendrag's relationship, told largely through swing music and 80s power ballads, with a few surprises here and there.

I put a lot of time and thought into this so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! There are spoilers in the playlist and track listing for Winter's Heart through A Memory of Light, since this is meant to mirror the narrative. It's organized mostly chronologically, though a few songs cover multiple books, or reference scenes placed slightly out of order, to better alternate points of view.

The order will be preserved if you have a paid Spotify account. (I know that's not ideal; I tried for several hours to get this into 8tracks through a series of increasingly convoluted methods but wasn't able to, as I don't directly own the music used.) If you can't listen to it in order, I've got the track listing under the cut so you can at least see what I was trying to do.

Track List:

1)      Royals (feat. Cory Gray) – Jake Coco, Corey Gray

“I’m no lord. I’ve more respect for myself than that.”

And we'll never be royals (royals)/

It don't run in our blood

2)      Almost There – Anika Noni Rose

Behind her veil, she was merely the High Lady Tuon, of no higher rank than many others of the Blood, but in her heart, always, she was Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag, Daughter of the Nine Moons, and she had come to reclaim what had been stolen from her ancestor.

Ain't got time for messin' around/

And it's not my style

 3)      Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man – Sammy Hagar

“I’m a gambler, not a soldier. A lover.”

I ain't good looking, but you know I ain't shy/ Ain't afraid to look a girl in the eye

 4)      Primadonna – MARINA

 “She is my wife! Your bloody Daughter of the Nine Moons is my wife!”

Would you get down on your knees for me?/

Pop that pretty question, right now baby

 5)      Been Caught Stealing – Richard Cheese

And Mat and the others galloped out into the storm, carrying with them three Aes Sedai, two of them escaped damane, and the kidnapped heir to the Seanchan Crystal Throne, while behind them a far worse storm broke over Ebou Dar.

Walk right through the door/ Hey all right!/ If I get by, it's mine/ Mine all mine!

 6)      Luck Be A Lady – Frank Sinatra

“As soon as I can figure out how to send you home safe and sound, I will. I promise.”

[...]

“So long as you keep your promises, I will neither escape nor betray you in any way, nor will I cause dissension among your followers.”

Let’s keep this party polite/

Never get out of my sight/

Stick with me baby, I'm the guy that you came in with/

Luck be a lady tonight

 7)      Holding Out For A Hero – Bonnie Tyler

“Do you remember Hawkwing’s face, Toy?”

I'm holdin' out for a hero 'til the morning light/ He's gotta be sure/ And it's gotta be soon/ And he's gotta be larger than life

 8)      Play The Game – Queen

“I’ve changed my mind, Toy,” she murmured, placing the white stone carefully on the intersection of two lines near the center of the board. “You play very well.”

All you have to do is fall in love/

Play the game, everybody play the game/

Of love

 9)      Poker Face – Lady Gaga

Despite himself, Mat began to laugh. He threw his hat down on the floor and laughed. With everything, all his efforts, he did not know this woman at all! Not a bit! He laughed until his ribs hurt.

Can't read my, can't read my/ No, he can't read my poker face

 10)   Young Dumb And In Love – Mat Kearney

Her big eyes were dark pools a man could spend a lifetime swimming in. Her rare smiles could be mysterious or mischievous, and he prized them.

I'm talking much, and you don't make a sound/

The prettiest face and those rock-a-bye baby browns/

All I've waited for's come true/

To be young and dumb and in love

11)   Zebra – The Magnetic Fields

She was still beaming. Her big eyes shone. “She’s a very fine animal, Toy. A wonderful gift. Either you have a good eye, or you were very lucky.”

“I have a good eye, Precious,” he said warily. She seemed more delighted than even the razor called for.

so there's one thing I crave/ when my days become ho-hum and blah/ I want a zebra

 12)   Steppin’ Out With My Baby – Fred Astaire

He grinned at Tuon, who gave him a slight nod. He had missed this, dice in a common room or tavern, coin on the table, wondering how long his luck would hold. And a pretty woman at his side while he gambled. He wanted to laugh with pleasure.

Steppin' out with my honey/

Can't be bad to feel so good/

Never felt quite so sunny/

And I keep on knockin' wood

 13)   Mack the Knife – Louis Armstrong

Tuon nodded approvingly. The bloody woman was dying to see him get into a knife fight!

[...]

To him, the world consisted of his two knives and the men crowding each other to get at him, and his knives sought the places where men bleed most heavily. Some of those ancient memories came from men who had not been very nice at all.

You know when that shark bites

With his teeth, babe

Scarlet billows

Start to spread

Fancy gloves, though

Wears ol' Macheath, babe

So there's never, never a trace of red

 14)   Rescue Me – Fontella Bass

“If one army is out to kill you, then they probably all are, and there are too many soldiers between here and Ebou Dar. But don’t worry; I’ll find some way to get you back safely.”

[...]

His boot slid in a patch of blood, and as he staggered, he knew he was about to die.

Abruptly Tuon was there, left hand seizing the young woman’s wrist—not the wrist of the knife hand, worse luck—twisting so the arm went stiff and the girl was forced to double over.

Come on, baby, and rescue me/ 'Cause I need you by my side

 15)   Too Close For Comfort – Eydie Gormé

He bent his head to hers. She was far from the first woman he had kissed. He knew what he was about. Surprisingly—or then again, perhaps not so surprisingly—she did not know. She was a quick pupil though. Very quick.

Be wise, be smart, behave my heart,/ Don't upset your cart/ When he’s so close.

 16)   Fever – Michael Bublé

She laid fingers against his cheek. “I thought so,” she said in that slow honey drawl. “You’re feverish. Some of your wounds must be infected.”

[...]

Mat blinked. He gave her a kiss that had to have curled her toes, and all she said was that his face was hot?

When you put your arms around me/ I get a fever that's so hard to bear/ You give me fever when you kiss me/ Fever when you hold me tight

 17)   Burning Down The House – Tom Jones, The Cardigans

Karede felt as if Hartha had kicked him again. No, not Hartha. Aldazar. What madness was this? Cauthon looked like a man watching an arrow fly towards his face, knowing he had no chance to dodge.

“Bloody Matrim Cauthon is my husband. That is the wording you used, is it not?”

This had to be a fever-dream.

Watch out you might get what you're after/

Cool babies strange but not a stranger/

I'm an ordinary guy/

Burning down the house

 18)   Love Is A Battlefield – Pat Benatar

“The next time I see Seanchan, I expect it will be on the field somewhere, Tuon.” Burn him, it would be. His life seemed to run that way no matter what he did. “You’re not my enemy, but your Empire is.”

“Nor are you my enemy, husband,” she said coolly, “but I live to serve the Empire.”

Both of us knowing/ Love is a battlefield

 19)   Empire – Alpines

Tuon straightened her back. She had not thought to become Empress for many years yet. But she would do her duty.

[...]

Fortuona was empress.

 I'm building an empire/

I'm building with my body and soul/

I'm building an empire/

So little time and so much to do

 20)   Distant Stations – Andrew Bird

Stay well, you curious man, she thought, glancing back at the balcony, northward. Do not dig yourself into trouble deeper than you can climb to freedom. You are Prince of the Ravens now. Remember to act appropriately.

Wherever it is you are.

[...]

Thom finished by making a wavy line through the center, as one did at the start of any game of Snakes and Foxes.

[...]

Mat crouched beside a fern, unseen by the dozen or so Deathwatch Guards who stood in a ring around Tuon as she went through a series of fighting stances.

 It was a triangle/ With soft, round edges/ And a split down the middle of one corner

I waited for you/ But I never told you where I was/

I waited on the steps for you/ And I hid in the bushes whenever a car pulled into the parking lot

 21)   Black Coffee – Sarah Vaughan

I should very much like to have him back. She froze; she hadn’t meant to admit so much. She found her own emotions curious, however. She had felt safe with him, ridiculous though it seemed. And she wished he were with her now.

Black coffee/ Feelin' low as the ground/ It's drivin' me crazy/ This waitin' for my baby/ To maybe come around

 22)   Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps – Cake

“Love?” Tuon sounded surprised. “Perhaps we will come to love each other, Matrim, but I have always known I would marry to serve the Empire.”

[...]

“And do you love me?” he asked, forcing the words out.

 You won't admit you love me/

And so how am I ever to know?/

You only tell me/

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

 23)   Best of You (with Elle King) – Andy Grammar, Elle King

“When you saw me,” Mat explained, “with a dagger in hand—as if to throw at you—you didn’t call for your guards. You didn’t fear I was here to kill you. You looked over your shoulder to see what I was aiming at. That’s the most loving gesture I think a man could receive from a woman. Unless you’d like to sit on my knee for a little while…”

 'Cause the best of me loves the best of you/

And all the rest, I can see right through/

You trust in me and I'll trust you too/

'Cause the best of me, loves the best of you

 24)   Dance Me to the End of Love – Leonard Cohen

“I’m not going to sit on your knee,” Tuon said, pulling one arm out of her robe, exposing her breasts, “though I may allow you to sit on mine.”

 Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on/ Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long/ We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above/ Dance me to the end of love

 25)   Roll the Dice – Annie Vincent

Order in one hand—something known, something she could measure—chaos in the other. Chaos in the form of a one-eyed man who knew Artur Hawkwing’s face.

Had she not just told Selucia she would bet upon him?

Roll the dice (C'mon)/ Take a chance with life, just roll the dice/ This will be your time, so roll the dice/ And nothing's gonna stop you now - no, no, woah

 26)   Short Skirt/Long Jacket – Cake

She was something incredible, though. He felt a thrill each time she gave orders; she did it so naturally.

 I want a girl with a mind like a diamond/ I want a girl who knows what's best

 27)   They All Fall Down – XY Unlimited

“A last stand,” Mat said softly. “All of us, together, at a one place where the terrain favors us.”

 One by one the soldiers stumble/

See them as they stand and tumble/

You're here with me

 28)   Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off – Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong

“I’ve had it with you,” Knotai said, waving a hand at her. “You and your bloody Seanchan rules just keep getting in the way.”

“Then I have had it with you as well,” she said, raising her head.

[...]

“I suppose you give me the opportunity… perhaps the mandate… to follow what my heart would choose, whether or not it is wise.” She stood. “General Galgan, gather your troops. We return to the Field of Merrilor.”

 For we know we need each other/ So we better call the calling off off/ Let's call the whole thing off!

 29)   Never Knew I Needed – Kathryn

“Well, I guess I’m off the hook, now. You have an heir.”

“I have an heir,” Tuon said, “but I am the one off that hook. Now I can kill you, if I want.”

Mat felt his grin widen. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can work out. Tell me, do you ever play dice?”

 You are the best thing I never knew I needed/ So now it's so clear, I need you here always

 30)   Twin Human Highway Flares – The Mountain Goats

All he had to do was convince Tuon to forsake her throne and run off with him.

  You turned to me and asked me if I'd always be your boy/

As we drove across the river into western Illinois/

And on the railroad bridge, half a mile of solid steel/

Wheels were spitting out sparks, scraping at the rails

[border-spam]

Leech Lord : Appetite

(Ty and Sei under the cut)

Troy

The first time Sei had seen him eat had been on the second day of being awake on her ship after his fever had broke and his twin had taken the opportunity to rest. If she didn't already have a million red flags screaming for her attention, this one would have floored her.

Troy swiped all of the food on the plate into the center, messily carved through it with his knife, then just shoveled it into his mouth. He didn't actually look like he was chewing it, not even finishing choking down a heaping spoonful of mismatched food before moving to scoop up another.

Seifa had chuckled as he reached for a third serving and he'd frozen... staring at her guiltily from under his hair while shaking like a kicked Skag-pup. Her laugh had caught in her throat. It hadn’t been funny.

He learned very quickly in the first couple of months that he didn't need to do that anymore. They'd never discussed it and never really do, but the manner in which Troy ate had developed from many, many years of being expected to feed himself and Typhon. There was never enough. He'd wolf down whatever he could get his hand on as quickly as possible before anyone else could notice and point out he should be sharing.

Some horrible mix of guilt and desperate hunger had shaped it, and it took him months to be able to relax while eating. He'd never really learned how to use cutlery either. Leda had died too early and left them with a parent who figured all you needed was a good knife, never noticing how much their one armed child struggled to prepare his own plate without ending up mixing bite sized pieces into a mound he could eat as quickly as possible.

Troy's obsession with "Fitting In" and learning social graces means he stopped doing this in public very quickly, but when he's very relaxed? If he's around people he doesn't feel on edge with?

All the food goes into a pile in the center of his plate, and he laughs at any looks of disgust aimed at him.

It tastes better this way, he swears. You get ALL the flavors at once!

When it comes to his body, If Troy did absolutely nothing extra on top of his normal life routine, he'd retain his lithe wiry physique with no effort. That's who he is, it's his default build.

Sadly, he is also God King Calypso, and Calypso has sculpted abs, lats you could grate with, and needs enough definition at all times for the camera to pick up... so Troy has to work. 

Hard.

The problem is, Gods don't need to put in effort to look good, they are flawless, above human, so Troy's routines are something he keeps completely private.

He struggles to maintain weight even on a healthy day and tends to substitute a lot of daily calories with shakes, tasteless protein slabs ; anything he can hork down in a couple of minutes at the start or end of his day without eating too much time.

He's hyper aware of his appearance always, to a very unhealthy level. Will deny spending hours on sleepless nights poring over comments about his physique on media, would be offended at the implication but.. it's Troy. Of course he does.

He relies on the calisthenics of carrying the massive prosthetic for a lot of his general definition, but has a simple setup in his project room in sanctum for his morning routine. Pull-up bar for shoulder/back, hanging crunches for his stomach, and he runs.

He loves running.

It's almost as relaxing as climbing out in Pandora's craggy hills at night for him. He'll run on the high end treadmill in the corner of that room untill he pukes, and often does.

He knows he's not really going anywhere, but when he closes his eyes and focuses on the burn of his shaky lungs and the fire in his chest as sweat drips down the crease of his spine, he's not Troy anymore. Not Calypso at least. Maybe DeLeon, chasing down the Manta his snare injured.

He's not here, he's not on Pandora for those 30 minutes, he's free in a body pulsing with pain and life. He’s somewhere else. Someone else.

Then he showers, drapes the God King's bloodied skin back over himself, fixes the mask in place... and steps out of his Sanctum.

Tyreen

Ty very rarely eats at all, but when she finds something she can actually taste like an extremely sour kind of citrus or highly spiced and smoked meat, she really takes her time enjoying it. She eats very slowly and will chew what’s in her mouth till there is barely anything left to swallow just to pull as much flavor out of it as she can.

She far more often enjoys smelling food than eating it, and will usually have a plate full in front of her at any celebration or feast to enjoy the aroma even if she won't be able to taste any.

She loves watching other people eat and not in a remotely sinister way. If she's surrounded by people eating and you pay enough attention go the God Queen, you'll catch the genuine smile as she flicks her eyes around the table and enjoys the satisfaction and happiness surrounding her.

Very often asks Troy to describe how things taste to her when they are out of the public eye. He knows how to describe using the right smells and memories for her to be able to imagine the sense she's missing.

Snotty little shit when it comes to smoking though, is convinced she's got an amazing palette for the tastes and mouthfeel of different blends. Doesn't, Troy just lies about what he rolled for her 90% of the time and hides the smirk.

Ty's never noticed any changes in her body regardless of how much energy she gluts on, so doesn't really put any actual effort into maintaining it. She's always... the same.

Even during periods of having very little of substance to feed on while growing up, she never got thinner. Just hungrier. The Leech seems to be highly tuned to making sure its host does actually get everything she needs to be healthy, though she's not sure if that's really a good thing. She'd rather have that control herself.

Ty is active enough in her day to day to retain a fit look, but she swims a LOT and is pretty sure it's to thank for her tone. She doesn't do it to stay looking tight though, that's just a nice bonus. 

There's a private room sized pool along the balcony of the twin's upper cloister that overlooks the plains Pandora's main sun sets across, and letting herself sink under that cool fresh water has always felt like it's wiping away the day's sin. When she's left with just the thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears and the pressure of the water silencing everything else, she's herself - slipping through the crisp waters of the lake they lived by on Nekro.

Troy's a poor swimmer and avoids doing so in general, this is all hers and hers alone. Something she's great at and he's always struggled with. It's nice to be reminded as the water laps at her skin, that she's good at some things that are normal.

Seifa

Is a trash can and was shocked to find out that's not actually the norm.

The migrant colony she grew up in under Boss was NOT picky about food, couldn't be. With a constant flow of new faces from different cultures and planets as well as not having a sure flow of supplies, you ate what you got and where happy for it.

None of them ever went hungry, but you'd not question what you were given and half of the time you'd never even find out what it was. She's got a highly varied palette but no idea what a lot of the things she's eaten in the past actually were, so only tends to realise she's eaten something before when she's handed it again as an adult.

Puts a huge amount of seasoning in everything, too much for some people, but that's part of her past too. Food wasn't always fresh, spices hide spoilage.

Likes to cook and tries to do so for friends often enough, it's one of her newly created family-esque rituals she isn't aware she's doing within the HC. Getting people to her ship for evenings to eat and sit, talk about the week, unwind, and gently bully Troy as he turns red and stammers to remind everyone he's a fucking God and they should watch their mouths, all while trying not to let how happy he is to be included show.

She has a massive sweet tooth and really enjoys fruits.

Sei is a vain little shit and puts a lot of energy into maintaining her appearance which includes her preferred weight and strength.

Years of lifting and pulling heavy machinery and parts have given her a decent enough core for her size and that's not something she needs to put a huge amount of thought into as it's still involved in her day to day job, and she doesn't actively exorcise in general, but she's the kind of person who weighs herself every morning and night and plans her meals ahead to match fluctuations.

She'll skip breakfasts, feed friends and not plate food for herself sometimes. She devotes more brain power to managing her own stats than a lot of other people would, but like all of her weirdness with numbers and control - she thinks it's totally normal.

She's not super fit, toned, or strong, but she's at a happy point with each for where she wants to be and likes the look of. There aren't enough hours in her day to be lifting weights or sweating on cross trainers. She's found other ways to manage that don't involve actively working out.

Asks are Open!

[rogue-assassinspy]

Chapter 17: Valentine's Day

The worst day of the year...Valentine's Day. You can smell the aroma of horny teenagers lingering in the air. Thankfully pretty much all of the students except for a few were heading to Hogsmeade to celebrate. I was one of the few staying back at the castle. I've never been a fan of this holiday. Even when I had been in relationships I still didn't care for it. Lunch had just ended and everyone was heading back to their rooms to get ready for their dates. I step off to the side and make my way to the courtyard past the large tree in the center. "Vodror." I hear from behind me and turn around to see Draco walking this way. "Need something, Draco?" I ask impatiently. "Where are you going in such a hurry? Not like you have a date anyways." He sneers. "No, I don't. Let me guess, you already got one? Another girl from Beauxbatons?" Draco scoffs at me as I continue. "And not that its's any of your business but I'm going to see if I can't find a place to take a bath. I'm sick of showers and I want to relax while no one is in the building." I say. "The only bath is in the prefects bathroom fifth floor, password is Pine-Fresh. Now, I need to get ready for my date." He smiles as he walks past shouldering me. I turn back making a face at him behind his back as I rub my shoulder. I can't be mad though, I have a bath to look forward to. After everyone has left for the day I gather my essentials to head downstairs. Today is going to be a day solely focused on myself and relaxation. I grab my towels, sweatpants, and sweater, and head to the fifth floor of the castle. As I make my way towards the door I start to second guess the password Draco gave me. Knowing my luck he gave me a fake one just to get me into trouble. I approach the door and give the password, "Pine-fresh". The door swings open and the smell of soap fills my nose. The room is massive, lowly lit with a candle filled chandelier. Everything is white marble from the floors to the bath itself. The bath is the size of a swimming pool and filled to the brim with bubbles. I can see a small amount of steam rising off the top of the water. There are tons of taps along the edge of the bath all flowing with different colors of water into the tub. White curtains hang along the windows and there is a gold framed portrait of a blonde mermaid overlooking the bath.

I set my towels on the ledge and begin to undress. The floor under my bare feet is cool. I fold my clothes and set them off to the side and tie my hair up into a bun on top of my head. Slowly I ease my way into the bath one foot at a time. The water is the perfect temperature. It's warm but not too hot. I sink further into the water until it comes up to my chin and lean back on the bench that lines the inside of the bath along the wall. I close my eyes and let myself relax, breathing out a satisfied breath. It's quiet, the only sound in the room is coming from the water falling from the faucets. I'm going to have to do this more often. "Enjoying yourself there, Vodror?" I hear from behind me. Sinking deeper into the water to cover myself I whip around to see Draco leaning against one of the pillars next to the bath. I sit up a little so the water is hovering just above my chest. Thankfully there are so many bubbles I don't have to worry about anything being seen. "Jesus, Draco. How long have you been standing there?" I say as I turn back around and try to get comfortable again closing my eyes. "And yes I am enjoying myself." I open one eye to look over at him. "Weren't you supposed to be on a date?" I ask. He pushes himself off the pillar and makes his way over to the edge of the bath taking a seat on the ledge to my right. "I was bored so I left." He says sticking a hand in the water playing with the bubbles absentmindedly. I turn around and place my arms on the ledge next to his legs and rest my chin on my arms. "You know, if you ever intend on actually dating someone you probably shouldn't just up and leave in the middle of a date. Especially on Valentine's Day." I say. "Shut up, Vodror." He says looking back up at me. I watch him quickly glance down to where the top of my chest is barely out of the water and he looks away back to the bubbles he was messing with. My breath catches.

"Well, since you've ruined my me time I guess I'll get out now. You need to leave so I can get dressed. Or at least turn around." I say as I motion for him to go. He smiles tauntingly, walks away from the bath, and turns his back to me. I grab my towel and carefully place it around me as I step out of the tub making sure that if he does turn around he can't see anything. "Would you hurry up? You're taking forever." He says. "Excuse me? I don't remember having anything planned today except for relaxing by myself. You've already ruined my bath." I grab my sweatpants and slide them on trying to balance myself, put on my pants, and hold my towel up all at the same time. As I go to put my right leg through I see Draco's head move slightly out of the corner of my eye. "HEY! Eyes forward dude. I can see you." He turns his head back around and chuckles as I finish getting dressed and let my hair down drying it off with a towel. "You're good." I say as I turn to grab my things and he walks back towards me. "It's about time." He says and makes his way towards the door. I stay in my spot watching him questioningly. "Bloody hell, Vodror. Let's go!" He says and I follow him out the door. "Draco, I don't know what you've got going on here but I don't want to deal with this shit right now. I just want to go back to my room and relax." He ignores my complaining and we continue downstairs to the dungeons. I follow him into the Slytherin common room and up the stairs to his bedroom. "What the hell is going on, Draco?" I say as I plop down on his bed watching him move about the room completely ignoring me. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He says and walks out of the room. "What-wait, no!" I say but he is already gone. A few minutes pass and the sound of the water above me is making my eyes heavy. It's almost eight and I know everyone should be close to be getting back. I need to get back to my room but I'm tired and I'm not going to lie, this bed is so much more comfortable than mine. I lay back on the pillow and close my eyes for a minute.

I feel movement beside of me on the bed and my eyes quickly open. Shit. Did I fall asleep? Shit. It's dark but I can see a small light coming from behind me. I realize the curtains around the bed have been closed. I look down to see I've also been covered by a blanket. I feel movement beside of me again and jolt upright in the bed looking to my left to see Draco sitting with his wand out reading a book. He quickly looks over startled to see me awake. "Stay quiet, Vodror." He whispers. "What the hell!? You just let me fall asleep here?! I have to get back to my room!" I whisper angrily at him. "If you leave now you'll get us both in trouble so just shut it and go back to sleep." Damnit, I hate when he is right. If I were to get caught leaving his room right now I'd be in so much trouble. It's not worth it. I lay back down but this time facing him. "What are you reading?" I ask. "None of your business. Go back to sleep." He shushes me. I roll my eyes and turn back over listening to the crash of the waves as it lulls me back to sleep.

Master list      Chapter 18

[firesoulstuff]

Zarlie Time Travel AU?

Charlie is still drunkenly laughing at whatever it is Declan’s saying went down at his old man’s retirement. Something about a dog drunk off his ass falling into a swimming pool. She isn’t entirely sure, she’s thinking too much about how she has to piss and she has got to keep these stairs in their proper place in her vision; she is not in the mood to twist another ankle getting off this damned bus.

“Bloody mortality.” She sneers under her breath, though she is still laughing at the story.

She stumbles off behind the crumbling building they’re parked out back of. The total destruction of the loom took away what little shreds of her power she had left, and damn if she doesn’t miss being able to shift her lower parts into a cock to make pissing on the street corner easier when she six kinds of drunk. Oh well, small price to pay for having that damn fate business over and done with for good.

So she does her business, and even she’ll admit it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip over herself in the process. She's just doing up her pants when-

“Charlie?”

She must really be drunk.

She turns around, and like a vision Zari’s standing in the golden glow of the nearby lamppost.

Probably is a vision.

“Ok, thas enough booze for me. Start seeing things.”

Zari comes closer, quickly, her strides brisk and long and urgent.

Then her hand, solid and firm wrapping around Charlie’s own fingers.

“I’m real.” She insists, and Charlie will blame it on the alcohol that even though she laughs she still squeezes Zari’s hand.

“No you’re not.” She insists, because sure, maybe Zari could be here, but not Zari. Not this Zari.

Not her Zari. Not the one she barely got to say goodbye to, the one she only got half a kiss with at best before the timeline changed and suddenly she was kissing Behrad, and thought he had been the one she’d been so scared of admitting her feelings for all that time during her freshman year with the Legends. No, her Zari is gone, and only exists in memories.

But, she’s still holding her hand, and soon she feels a cool touch on her flushed cheek, and Zari is turning her head and encouraging her to look in her eyes.

“It’s me.” She promises, “Behrad, John, and the other Zari figured it out. They found a loophole.”

Charlie’s breath shudders, and somewhere in her mind she is aware that she’s locking her fingers with Zari’s into a proper intertwine, even bringing their hands up between them so those hands are pressed against their chests.

Tightly, because they’re standing that close.

She wants to ask how, and when, and again if this is even real but she can see it in those dark eyes she has always loved so much. This is Zari. Her Zari.

“I’m really shitfaced right now.” Is what so eloquently comes out of her mouth and Zari chuckles.

“I know, I could smell you from around the corner.” She says, and then her brow creases with a frown. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” Charlie says, “We just finished a couple shows and Declan dealt with a family thing, we were due for some drinks.”

Zari hums, and with the hand she has resting on her cheek she moves her fingers to play with the ends of Charlie’s curls. Charle closes her eyes, losing herself in the feeling that has no business being as sweet and hypnotizing as it is.

“Well then.” Zari almost whispers, “Mind if I crash the party?”

Charlie smiles wickedly, and she’s pretty sure she snorts a little.

“Never babe.”

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Raven”

Y/N is a very unusual metahuman that can use her powerful abilities just once before being turned into a Raven forever; that’s why it’s really strange she decided to sacrifice herself in order to save The Joker’s life. But there’s a reason for everything and maybe the unbreakable curse is nothing more than a blessing in disguise.

“It doesn’t look good,” you hover over The Joker, analyzing the gunshot wound that keeps on bleeding through his green shirt.

“It’s not bad,” he growls, pressing his abdomen.

“Where are you, prick?” someone yells and the echo carries over the words around the abandoned building.

“Do you believe you can escape?” another voice resonates in the vast premises.

“Tick-Tock, Clown!” another man howls in the quietness, certain The King of Gotham has no escape.

“Fuck…,” J tries to get up but he slides back down against the wall.

“I think it’s pretty bad,” you state the obvious. “You’re injured, out of bullets and they are near: your crew won’t find you in time.”

“Shit…,” he groans in pain, the throbbing ache intensifying with each passing moment.

“I’m gonna help you,” Y/N shares her scheme and although the news should make him happy, it doesn’t.

“W-what do you mean?!” The Joker stutters even if he knows the implications of such statement. You’re quiet and he continues: “Why would you do something like that?...”

You smile at his bafflement, the affirmation completely surprising him:

“Because you’re the only one that never asked.”

“You shouldn’t use it on me!” J’s truthful reply is interrupted by the henchmen entering the desolated space where the fallen Prince of Crime has found refuge. “Who am I supposed to talk to if you’re gone?” the genuine question makes you realize there’s actually a soul in this world who’ll miss you.

“We didn’t really talk too much,” you softly chuckle and turn to confront the men halted in their tracks seeing you’re positioned in front of The Joker.

“The freak is here,” a goon whispers loud enough to be heard by the ones arriving behind him.

“Hey Y/N!” their leader detaches from the crowd. “What are you doing here?!”

The lack of an answer combined with the feral expression on your face prompts the mobster to wave his pistol as a sign for truce.

“Let’s not do anything hasty, shall we?... …. Hm?... I’m aware you had so many offers over the years; consider mine again: if you wield your powers to finish the green haired asshole, I will triple the amount of money from the highest bidder!”

You scoff at the absurd idea, describing how stupid you considered the monetary proposals suggested by numerous individuals in the past:

“And what am I supposed to do with the riches once I cease to exist?!”

A bullet shrieks by your ear, ending up in the wall behind where J collapsed a couple of minutes ago.

“Sorry I missed, boss!” the man apologizes and this is enough to set you off; you turn your head to gaze at The Joker, delivering a last warning.

“Close your eyes or you’ll go blind!”

“Don’t let her clap her hands!” the kingpin shouts but it’s too late: a deafening bang fills up the air and the strong light emanating from your body burns J’s closed eyelids. He covers his face with bloody fingers while the screams and smell of torched flesh makes him nauseated; it’s so disgusting he gags yet the insane King can’t help a smirk at the sweet victory, even if comes  with such a heavy price.

Gurgling noises and muffled cries persist for another 15 seconds before they abruptly halt.

“Meet me in dreams,” is Y/N’s final sentence and immediately after the sound of flapping wings queue The Joker to finally open his eyes.

The view is cringe worthy: puddles of steamy, boiling tar scattered all around bearing witness to the consequences of your rage: nobody’s alive anymore except J and the Raven picking at the clothes you wore earlier.

His cell phone goes off and he has difficulty searching the purple jacket for the item he has no need for.

“Sir! We’re coming! Almost on the 32nd street!” Frost reports in a frenzy and The Joker sneers, wheezing from the effort of trying to stay awake.

“Nice timing,” and he hangs up, muttering to himself: ’”Goddamned jerks…”

The bird suddenly flies in his lap, curiously checking him out.

“I think I’m gonna pass out…” the damaged Clown slowly blinks before losing conscience which is alright since he had to speak to you anyway.

Every time you meet in dreams, you are always waiting for him on this deserted, calm beach staring at the waves in the distance. Today is not different.

He takes a sit by the woman that saved his life, silently analyzing her features: The Joker knows he won’t see them again except in this place.

When you said you didn’t speak much, it was true; if he tries to remember the first instance you showed up in his life, the moment blurs out and disappears in the background of his troubled mind. You would just randomly pop up while he was alone, keeping each other company for hours and often barely uttering a sentence. The eerie Y/N preferred J’s presence simply due to his lack of interest in her unusual power and he tolerated her because she never sought any kind of reward from their awkward connection. In the matter of fact, J never even tried to touch you; it was relaxing to be with an individual that plainly didn’t want anything from you whilst the rest of the world begged for attention: how many requested you aid them and manipulate your ability in order to annihilate their enemies? How many promised compensations beyond measure in exchange of your mighty gift? Way too many.

Yet The Joker didn’t care about it; the most he would do was to share his favorite drink after a new brand of grape juice hit the market.

And now the person he shared with was gone forever.

“Your team is almost at the warehouse,” you address him, bending your knees until your chin touches them. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried,” J indifferently replies. “Told you it’s not serious.”

You snicker at his stubbornness, pointing out the evident reality:

“That’s why you fainted and started to dream about me?”

Your escort huffs, struggling to confess stuff hard to articulate in these circumstances.

“Thank you for…umm…for…”

“You don’t have to thank me; it was my choice and I fulfilled my destiny. It’s over and I’m free. I’ll still visit, ok?”

“Mister Joker! Sir, can you hear me?” Frost’s voice interrupts J’s dream: the gang is searching the deserted property for their leader and the only thing he notices is The Raven flying in circles above his head.

***********

Three weeks later, 9:37pm

The Joker extends his arm and you land on it, gently digging your claws in his skin for equilibrium.

“Where were you all day?!” he scolds and you caw, evoking complaints from the man that can’t sleep without his bird. “I wish you were a nightingale, this way you can chirp some cute songs.”

You fly on his shoulder to peck at the diamond earring, annoyed at his remark.

“Ouch! Ouch!” he shrugs, but doesn’t chase you away. “I recognize crows appreciate shiny things, but it hurts.”

Poking escalates and J vaguely apologizes on his own terms:

“I meant Raven! Raven!!” he repeats and struts inside The Penthouse where your pillow awaits. “Are you hungry?” the Prince of Crime offers a bunch of crumbs and expensive seeds he ordered for the spunky pest. You hop on the nightstand and play with the food, not particularly captivated by the lavish feast.

The Joker rolls in bed, gesturing for the pillow next to him.

“My girlfriend’s out of town, you can crush on her side of bed,” the affirmation makes you float to her cushion, instantly plucking the fabric with your beak, then jump up and down, cawing some more.

The Clown laughs, entertained at the temper tantrum.

“I know you don’t like her and the feeling is mutual,” he caresses the soft, black feathers as you continue to shred Lara’s pillow. “Stoooop! These are fresh sheets!” he pleads and distracts you by showing his patched up abdomen from under the t-shirt. “Look, my lesion is healing; wanna see?” a corner of the bandage is peeled for the guest to properly inspect the stitches.

Y/N bounces on The Joker’s chest, cautiously examining his wound.

“Cool, huh?” he grins and reaches his hand for the book resting under his pillow, surprisingly enough containing your favorite poem. “The Raven. By Edgar Allan Poe,” J emphasizes and you spread your wings with delight, quickly rushing to his neck and cuddle against the playing cards tattoo.

The King of Gotham holds the book with one hand and pets you with the other, his husky tone recites the verses you love so much.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary…” the beautiful, dark rhyme soothes a tired Y/N scarcely recalling what it means to be human.

Yet being near HIM reminds her on how much she longs for what was lost when she willingly sacrificed herself to save the one that didn’t ask to be saved.

*************

Following morning, 8:21 am

The Joker is swimming outside on the terrace and you’re having a blast in the inflatable pool he set by his lounge chair for the enchanted, feathered companion. This is a thousand times extra enjoyable when his new girlfriend is not home!

She’s a complete nutcase, totally obsessed with The Clown and certainly doesn’t understand why he’s paying so much attention to a filthy, gross creature.

Who the hell gets a crow as pet?! Apparently her boyfriend, although he didn’t tell her who you truly are. Why bother? It’s a secret you and J share; nobody has to find out, although plenty of concerned parties would spend a fortune for an update: Y/N hasn’t been spotted recently and it’s troublesome.

“Raven Queen!” J emerges from the pool since he has to take it easy; the doctor said no more than 15 minutes of physical activity every day. “I have a little present,” he yanks at the towel on the lounge chair, unraveling a box full of gold rings, Rolexes and chains under it.

Oh my God, so shiny and sparkly in the morning sun!!!

You fly from your pool straight into the container, happily tapping at the treasures. The Joker dries his body and chitchats with his bird, excited you enjoy the shimmering gems.

“You can steal them and hide them,” he winks and you sure are taking advantage of it as soon as possible. “Do you have a nest?” J inquires and teases afterwards: “Did you find yourself a Raven King?”

That’s pretty rude, you think and swiftly attack him, careful not to scratch his face in the process.

“Cut it out!” The Joker demands and gives up the fight really fast. ”OK, OK, I surrender!” he chuckles as you rise up, gliding in the wind gushing above The Penthouse. The plan is simple: charge at the toxic green locks and pull on the strands, assuring at least two or three hairs will be removed as revenge.  J takes a defensive stance, preparing to catch and keep you captive in the fluffy towel until you calm down.

BANG! the gunshot halts the fun and The Clown Prince of crime watches in horror as The Raven falls to the ground in front of his girlfriend.

“Babe, are you alright?” Lara squeals, kicking the bird at her feet. “I told you having a wild animal as pet it’s an awful idea! I saw the crazy bird attacked you, it might have rabies!!” she kicks you again and the small body convulsing on the hard concrete makes him lose his marbles. “Thank heavens I returned sooner than expected,” the woman explains, nervous to detect the angry Joker stomping towards her.

“What the fuck are you doing??!!” he screams and violently pushes her, slapping the gun out of her hand. Lara stumbles on her own steps, not comprehending why her partner is livid rather than showing gratitude.

“What do you mean?” she gulps and J bends over to pick you up when you let out a cry, the sinister noise resembling a human’s wailing. “The bird was attacking you, I was afraid!”

“It wasn’t attacking me, we were messing around!”

“Messing around?!” the woman mumbles, confused.

“Get a hold of Frost and tell him I need a veterinarian! NOW!!!” The Joker barks as he enters The Penthouse.

“Jesus…,” Lara sniffles and texts, irritated at his behavior. “Why is he so mad about?! The dumb beast is nothing but an outbreak of infection and bacteria!” she maliciously grumbles, sending the message to Jonny.

Something whooshes by her and before she has a chance to see what it is, a bunch of ravens and crows unexpectedly storm at the petrified Lara: they are answering your call, mercilessly tearing and scraping at the enemy.

“J!!! J!!!!” she runs without noticing where she’s going, panicked at the multitude of birds relentlessly chasing her; it’s a miracle she stumbles upon the tiny shed which stores pool supplies and manages to squeeze inside.  

The birds keep on bombarding her temporary hideout as she begs for assistance:

“J !!! J !!!! Please help me!!! J!!!!”

Yet The Joker can’t hear: he raced upstairs to the master bedroom and placed you on the comforter, trying to assess how severe the injuries are; one of the wings is bleeding and there are probably broken bones also.

“Don’t die…” J whispers because it sure seems Y/N is fading away: the bird can barely breathe and for the first time in ages he feels sad. “If you leave, we won’t be able to meet in dreams…”

The King of Gotham crawls in bed, unsure if he should caress you or not; what if he dislocates something else by accident? Instead he kisses the top of your head, the velvety feathers tickling his lips.

The sudden glow radiating from The Raven makes him close his eyes tight: it’s so strong it burns just like when you used your powers to rescue him. It doesn’t last longer than 10 seconds and sensing the light dimmed, J decides to open his eyes. A few black quills still drift in the air and he glares at the tearful Y/N, shocked to see her:

“Everything hurts,” you start sobbing and the bloody arm, plus the bruised torso urge him to cover your naked body with the corner of the quilt. “H-how am I h-here?!” you stammer and grab his thumb while The Joker is in a trance, speechless at the witnessed phenomenon because it’s impossible to come up with a logical reasoning.

Such a shame neither of you realize that even affection coming from a rotten heart can be pure enough to shatter an unbreakable curse.  

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can follow me in AO3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho. 

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 001 [Just A Dream?]

📑 Table of Contents

Word Count: 3,114 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“We’ve been thrown into the fire. We’ve been lost in the flame. But we will rise from the ashes again.” Spoken, “Through It All”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The bell rang to signal the end of class. I stood up, tugging the backpack onto my shoulder as I followed the wave of students out into the hallway. I’m so glad today is Friday, I can spend the entire weekend playing that new racing game that Gramps bought me. I wonder what Travis is doing. Maybe we can have another tournament.

A sharp pain went through my wrist and I flinched, tugging at the black wristband. Underneath it was a pretty big birthmark, a blob of black that looked like some weird-ass alien. It had woken me up out of a dead sleep, burning and itching and I had no fucking idea why. I didn’t want to worry Gramps so I kept it to myself, but I’m beginning to wonder if I should tell him about it when I get home.

“Hey, Tegu! Wait up!”

My body tensed as the sickly sweet voice that floated above the other students. I tried to ignore it and keep walking, but she easily caught up with me, threading her arm through my own.

“You didn’t wait for me, how rude.” Skye pouted, digging her nails into my skin. Heather giggled from behind us.

Skye Jones and Heather Rose were best friends, and they’ve been my bullies since we were twelve-years-old. I don’t know why they suddenly decided to target me, but ever since then, they haven’t picked on anyone else. I guess that’s the silver lining here. They’ve made my life hell, but better me than someone that can’t handle it.

Skye was five-foot-five with a boyish build, her brown hair reaching her shoulders. Bangs hung down in a straight line over her chocolate eyes. Heather was five-foot-six with a curvy build, her blonde hair falling in waves to her shoulder blades, where the tips were dyed black. Her eyes were the color of sapphires.

Skye tugged me toward the back of the school. It was her favorite spot to attack me because there was a dumpster nearby and she was ‘taking out the trash’.

“You’ve been so cold lately,” She clicked her tongue. “You’re starting to hurt my feelings!” Releasing her grip, she shoved me against the brick wall of the school, making me grunt as is dug into my back.

“Feelings?” I scoffed. “Didn’t know you had those,”

Heather grabbed the top of my head and yanked hard, grinning when I winced. “You should know not to backtalk, Tegu.”

“Come on, I wanna hear you scream!” Skye punched me in the stomach. I tried to grab her wrist but Heather grabbed one of my hands with her free on. Skye grabbed the other, pinning it to the wall before slamming her foot against it.

I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. I refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. At the very least, they’d have to work for it.

“I want to hear you beg for mercy, trash!” She punched me again and again. I tried to sink to the ground but Heather pulled up on my hair and dug her nails into the skin above the wristband.

“You’re so weak,” Heather chuckled. “You know, you could save us the trouble and just die.”

I scoffed. Of course I’m weak compared to you, you’re both fucking black belts that’s been studying martial arts since you were five.

Thunder roared overhead as grey clouds slowly covered the blue sky.

“Let’s finish this up before it starts raining. I just got my hair done,” Heather said, releasing her grip on me so she could shove me forward. I stumbled and Skye took advantage to kick me in the chest, sending me back onto the ground. Before I could react, she was on top of me, her hands around my throat, fingers digging into my skin.

Fuck, I can’t breathe. I clawed at her hands but her grip only tightened. Is this where I die? Beside some dumpster like a rat? Gramps will be left all alone, and without me around to bully, these two will attack some other student. I tried to pry her fingers off, but she’s stronger than I am.

I tried to grab one of the pens that had fallen out of my backpack, but they were just out of reach. When Heather noticed, she kicked them farther away.

My vision is getting blurry, lungs burning from the lack of air. My wrist feels like it’s on fire. Tears filled my eyes. I can’t die… not here, not like this! It’s not fair, it’s not fair!

“W-What the hell?!”

My head was swimming. In a last-ditch effort, I reached out for her face, mustering up the last of my strength and pushing as hard as I could. I noticed a few embers drifting on the breeze. She screamed in pain and the pressure fell away from my neck. I took in a large gasp of air, rolling over as I coughed and wheezed. My throat felt tight and it hurt to swallow.

“W-What the hell are you?!”

I looked over my shoulder through blurred eyes. Skye was on the ground, clutching her face with her hands as she cried and screamed in pain. Heather was kneeling beside her, eyes wide in fear as she stared at me.

The hell is she talking about? Her best friend just tried to kill me, but she’s looking at me like I’m the monster? Gimme a break. I barely even touched the bitch.

Heather put her hand on Skye’s shoulder, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Are you okay?” She pulled Sky’s hands away from her face and my eyes went wide.

The whole left side of her face was badly burnt, the skin bloody as blisters started to pop up. Her eye was swollen shut and she was screaming bloody murder.

W-What the hell? Those are easily third-degree burns, but… how? I lifted my shaking hand. It was redder than it should have been like I had run my hand under hot water for too long. Did I… Did I do that? That’s not possible.

“You’re a monster!” Heather cried, her eyes filling with tears as she shakily pulled out her phone. “I’m calling the police! Hang on, Skye! You’re going to be locked away for like, you freak!”

Those words hit me like a truck and I scrambled to my feet, running as fast as I could in my current condition. My head was spinning, my stomach was sore, and it hurt to breathe. And my fucking wrist, the pain is becoming unbearable.

Sirens were approaching in the distance and I ducked into the alley, trying to ignore the pain as I stumbled home, slowly only when I reached my neighborhood. Why am I breathing so damn heavy? I can feel sweat dripping down my face. It’s never been this hot and humid during Spring. Is it because of the coming storm?

I stumbled into my house, slamming the door behind me as I tore my jacket off, throwing it onto the ground by my sneakers. “Hey, Gramps?” I called, heading to the thermostat. It says it’s only sixty-five degrees, so why am I so hot?

Shaking my head, I entered the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. My face was damp with sweat and bright red, my black hair matted to my forehead. Am I getting sick? I turned on the cold water and splashed my face. It felt amazing against my heated skin. I tugged up my shirt, looking at the bruises starting to form across my stomach. I don’t feel like anything is broken…

A crash sounded from the living room and my brow furrowed as I opened the bathroom door, heading toward the sound. “Gramps? You okay?” I stepped through the doorway, scanning the room. Everything looked normal aside from the books scattered across the floor on the right side of the room. I headed over, stepping around the couch when my foot kicked something.

My eyes widened, heart speeding up. “G-Gramps?”

The man that had spent his life raising me was on his back, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. Blood had pooled around him on the floor from the various stab wounds across his stomach and chest. I swallowed hard, forcing myself forward. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, staining his salt-and-pepper beard.

“G-Gramps,” I repeated, reaching my hand out to him. My body is shaking as a million different things start to jump around my skull. What the hell is happening?! This has to be a bad dream, it has to be!

Shuffling behind me made me whip my head around. What the hell is that thing?! Standing in front of me was… I don’t even know what it was. It’s like someone took a shadow and stuffed it into a suit. He had the basic outline of a human, but his entire body was made of black and purple smoke, his eyes glowing yellow. Beside him, a man kneeled down, his hands flat on the ground between his legs. His body was stick thin and he looked like a creature from Lord of the Rings.

There’s no way this is anything but a dream. That’s right, I’m just having a bad dream. Calm down, Jen.

“Fear not, Jen Winchester. I have come to bring you home.”

“That ain’t my last name!” I snapped. The heat was returning to my skin. “Who the fuck are you? Did you do this to Gramps?!”

“Please calm yourself. All will be explained shortly.” His golden eyes flickered to Gramps. “He did not have to die. All he had to do was hand you over, and he would have lived.” He took a step toward me.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” I started to back away, feeling a sharp pain in my wrist. I winched, grabbing it tightly as it started to burn. It felt like someone was holding a damn blowtorch against my skin. I ripped the wristband off. The edges of my birthmark were glowing faintly like the last embers of a fire.

The man was suddenly in front of me, reaching out to me. I flung my arm out to slap his away, only for my arm to be covered in flames. I yelped, waving my arm frantically to try and put the fire out. Wait… why isn’t it burning me? It feels… warm, but it doesn’t hurt.

“Forgive me for rushing like this, but I’m afraid we’re running out of time.” His shadowy body expanded, covering the room. I tried to back away as it approached but it was too fast for me. I stumbled back and started to fall. Everything was black, but I was clearly falling through the air.

I tried grabbing at the black walls, but it was like grasping at smoke. I was falling further and further into the void. My teeth clenched, my hands balling into fists. I did not escape one death just to die in this stupid tunnel of shadow! My body was heating up as my anger flared inside of me. I was pissed off at those bitches Skye and Heather for making the last six years of my life a living hell. I was pissed off at my parents for abandoning me and leaving Gramps to raise a kid on his own.

I was pissed off at the world.

My wrist burned, embers drifting from the birthmark as I fell. My hands became engulfed in flame and I yelled out, slamming my fist against the shadowy wall of the tunnel. I punched and punched and punched. It was all I could do.

I heard the man’s voice echoing around me. “H-Hey! Stop that, it tickles!”

My eye twitched. “Stop fucking with me!” The flames grew, engulfing my arms. I punched it again and the mist opened up to avoid my fist. It was a small hole, but I could see the sky through it. This is my only option, I couldn’t miss this chance. With all of my strength, I kicked through the air, propelling my body forward. I dove through the hole, sunlight streaming over my face and then the rest of my body. The wind whipped around my body and I could see the ground quickly approaching as I fell.

Fuck, what do I do now? I really am going to die. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact. I felt something grab my body before an arm tightened around my neck, making me cry out in pain. I opened my eyes, seeing two large men in front of me, one blonde, the other with dark crimson hair. Oi, that guy’s fucking face is on fire!

The grip tightened around my neck and I scratched at the arm. Are these fucking scales?! “Ssstay back or the girl diesss,”

I glanced at the face near my own. My life was being threatened by a goddamn lizard. Why the hell is everyone trying to kill me today? I just have to ride this dream out. I’ll wake up to the smell of Gramps making his famous omelet for breakfast. He’s going to scold me for eating junk food before bed and then I’m going to go to school where I’ll get roughed up by the bitch twins. And then I’ll return home to find Gramps in his favorite armchair reading an Agatha Christie novel for the tenth time. That’s right, I just gotta stay calm until I wake up.

“Release her, villain! She’s an innocent child!” The blonde demanded.

Villain? Is this what I get for giving in when Travis forced me to watch that superhero marathon for three days straight last week? I knew I should have been more firm with that no.

The lizard laughed, which sounded like a mixture between a hiss and a wheeze. “No one isss innocent in thisss world. Let me walk away and I promissse no harm will come to her.”

The redhead humphed and took a step forward. “Do you really believe that we’d trust you? Let the girl go!”

He hissed angrily, tightening his arm until I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his arm but my nails did no damage to his scaly flesh. “You clearly don’t value thisss girl’sss life, Endeavor.”

Goddamn it, this is the second fucking time being choked out in the same day.

Endeavor’s fists clenched at his sides.

“Let me… go… you scaley… freak!” I gasped out. It was really starting to seem like the universe was working overtime to try and kill me today. I don’t give a shit about fate or destiny or these fucking three men, whether this is just a dream or not, I will not die here!

My wrist burned as fire crawled across my skin. I screamed in pain as it engulfed my whole body, spreading to the lizard, who also screamed, shoving me away from him. I fell to the ground, my legs no longer able to hold my weight, but the fire didn’t die like it did before. It burned strong, pulling and tugging at my skin. My fingers clawed at the ground, my head beginning to throb violently.

The lizard let out another scream and Skye’s face flashed through my mind.

My vision started to blur and I fought to stay conscious. I could see the two men staring at me with wide eyes and if I wasn’t in so much pain I would have told them to take a fucking picture. My entire body was screaming at me, begging me to do something, anything to relieve the pain it was feeling. Fuck, I think I might actually die this time. The blonde’s face moved in and out of focus.

The last thing I saw was embers drifting away from my wrist, my eyes sliding closed against my will.

それ以上に上昇 ☆ Third Person

All Might watched as the girl slipped into unconsciousness, the flames slowly dying until there was nothing but smoke. He reached out to touch her shoulder and flinched, pulling back to look at his reddening palm. Her skin was too hot to touch, her clothes torn and scorched in several places.

Endeavor scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Too hot for you, All Might?” The man grabbed her shoulder and roughly turned her over onto her back. Both men blushed and turned their heads away from her exposed chest.

All Might cleared his throat, using his large arm to block the view from the curious bystanders that had started to flood the area. One girl noticed the predicament and cautiously approached the two heroes, holding out her jacket. He thanked her and she ran back to the rest of the onlookers. As he placed the jacket over her body, a pendant slid out from beneath the small bit of cloth on her stomach.

‘That necklace… it can’t be…’

Endeavor checked on the villain and sighed deeply. “He’s dead,”

All Might snapped out of his racing thoughts, letting the jacket fall over her body. Carefully, he slipped his arms under her back and knees, ignoring the sting against his skin. Kneeling down to jump away from the scene, Endeavor blocked his path.

“The police will be here soon to take her into custody,” His teal eyes narrowed at the way he held her protectively against his chest.

“She’s a child -”

“She’s a murderer,”

“She clearly can’t control her quir -”

“Why are you defending this child, All Might?” Endeavor challenged, taking a threatening step forward. “Use of a quirk without a license is illegal. Not only that, but she murdered someone, villain or not. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just another villain to be dealt with accordingly.”

All Might lowered his head to look at her face. It wasn’t confirmed yet, and he really didn’t want to say anything, especially not to Endeavor, but he knew that the number two hero wouldn’t let him leave unless he did. “This child is Alissa’s daughter,”

Endeavor’s teal eyes widened in shock, his arms falling limply against his sides. He moved his gaze to the girl, scanning her face for any resemblance. Now that he was looking, she certainly did resemble Alissa. He growled, turning his back to the two of them. “Get out of here!”

All Might didn’t have to be told twice as he took off, his powerful jump sending him flying through the sky. He had no idea how to handle this situation and the sudden appearance of Alissa Winchester’s missing child, but he was confident that Principal Nezu would be able to help.

He headed straight to U.A. High School.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Back to Haunt Me

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word count: 12301

Summary: Simon Snow hasn't heard from his former roommate in years. So when he gets a call from him, he's equal parts confused and intrigued. Based on "I called you at 2am because I need you" request from @god-themself

Read on AO3

AN: I'm really sorry for how long these requests are taking, oy. Every time I start writing, the fic ends up getting longer and my stupid body decides to crap out and not work. Anyway, here's the latest fic. Hope you enjoy it :)

———————————————

Simon

I’m sitting upside down on my couch when I get the call.

It’s not something I do too often, just when I’m really, really stuck on something. I say that ideas pool in my feet and this lets them trickle down to my head. Penny thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous. She says it will give me headaches, and it does, but it also helps. I’ve been stuck for an hour on coming up with new lessons. This is my last resort.

So I’m laying upside down on my small couch, legs up in the air, face turning a very bright shade of red. My glasses slipped off a while ago, making me essentially blind to anything more than five feet away. My mind is swimming with new ideas for maths games and art projects, the mental images almost swirling past my blurry vision.

And when I’m deep in contemplation a new history Kahoot, my phone blares out my “Toxic” ringtone. (Britney is amazing and haters can fuck off.) I flip up way too fast, making my vision spin like water in a toilet bowl. I paw at my phone while I wobble back and forth. With the combination of my glasses on the floor and blood rushing from my head, I don’t bother to read the caller ID. Or lack thereof.

“Hello?” I say shakily, still clutching my head.

“Siiiiimon,” a low, slurring, strangely familiar voice says. Is a student prank calling me again? Dammit, I thought I scolded them enough.

“Jeremy, if that’s you, this isn’t funny. This is my personal mobile and you-”

“Aw, did you already forget me, Snow?” the person continues, and my heart suddenly freezes. “It hasn’t been that long has it? Only seven years.”

My jaw drops and I sit ramrod straight. Every vein in my body turns ice cold. Holy. Fucking, Shit. “Baz?!”

“Yes, it is I. Good evening, Snow,” he snorts, but there’s still that weird waver to his voice.

“A-Are you drunk?”

“Ding ding, we have a winner in every category,” he giggles. Fucking giggles. I don’t think I ever heard him let out so much as a chuckle in all the years I lived with him. He must be very drunk.

“Um, how did you get my number?”

“Remember when you got mysterious calls supposedly from the Babadook when we were fifteen? Surprise! That was me! Got your mobile off the school registry.”

My mouth falls open even more. “I knew that was you!”

“Duh!” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “Shush! Yes, I actually have him on the line. I’ll get him to come.” He’s definitely not talking to me. He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about that, Snow. Super sorry, for everything I did back in school. So please don’t hang up.”

Admittedly, I was going to. But he sounds so pathetic and drunk, so I stay on. “Alright,” I sigh. “I’m still here.”

“Hooray!” There’s a short stretch of silence. He doesn’t continue, so I have to pipe up again.

“Baz,” I say, “not to be rude, but, uh, why are you drunk calling me? We haven’t seen each other in awhile and it’s...” I scramble to grab my glasses, then look at my wall clock. “After two in the morning. Plus, you like, hate me.”

“No,” he slurs out. He sounds well pissed. “I don’t hate you, Snow. You’re too much of a kind brave hero to hate.”

“Um, thank you?”

He laughs loudly. I’ve heard him laugh more in the last five minutes than I did our entire childhoods. “You’re very, very welcome.”

Again with the silence. I can’t believe I’m the one talking more between us. “So... why are you calling? You wanna catch up or something?”

Baz lets out a long, low groan. For some reason, I imagine him slumping against a wall or something. “I bloody wish. Stupid barkeep won’t let me leave until I call someone to get me and my stupid friends and stupid aunt won’t pick up.”

“So you decided to call me?!”

“You’re the only other person I know who lives in London.”

“Who told you I lived in London?”

“Aggie. Said you had a cute little flat and a cute little cat.” He giggles, and I can almost picture a dopey smile on his usually frowning face. It looks so weird and wrong. “Hey, that rhymes.”

I sit even more upright. “Wait, Aggie? As in Agatha?! Are you two dating now?!”

He scoffs. Now that really reminds me of our school days. “No, Snow, I’m not dating your ex. She’s not my type.”

“That’s rude. Agatha is very pretty.”

“I mean that she’s not a man, Snow.”

My face immediately turns scarlet, and this time not from being upside down. “O-Oh. You’re gay?”

“Once again, duh!”

“Fuck off, you flirted with her all the time!”

“Nuh-uh.” He sounds like a bloody obnoxious American. “Not really. Just did that to piss you off.”

“I’m hanging up,” I growl.

“Wait!” Baz shouts as I move the phone off my ear. “Please don’t hang up, Simon. Fucking hell, I need you.”

I seriously debate actually hanging up. But there’s something in his voice that tugs at my chest. It’s weird and explainable, but it’s there. I slowly bring the phone back to my ear. “You need me?”

“Yeah,” he groans. “I’m drunk as fuck and uh...yeah, I’m still bleeding.”

My pulse goes wild instantly. “Bleeding?! Are you hurt?!”

“Yeah, but you should see the other bloke,” he laughs proudly. “Bartender says if someone doesn’t pick me up and take me home, she’s calling the police to come get me. Doesn’t trust me with an Uber or something.” Baz makes a weird yet familiar sound. Is...is Baz Pitch sticking his tongue out at someone? What the fuck has happened in the last seven years?

“Alright,” I sigh. “Where are you?”

“Yay! I am...” He takes a long pause, which gives me time to rub my aching temple. “Hey, where am I?”

There’s more rustling and some muffled yelling. “He’s at XOYO,” a stern woman’s voice says. “32-37 Cowper St, second floor. We’re closing in an hour so get here soon.”

Before I can say anything else, the phone clicks off. I stay frozen for a moment. My brain is still playing a bit of catch up. So, Baz bloody Pitch has called me out of the blue after seven years, drunk off his arrogant arse, apparently gay, and needs me to pick him up. And now he’s sorry for being a dick to me through our entire time in school? That’s nice. Few years too late if you ask me, but better late than never I suppose.

I look down at all my notes, the ones I have to finish in a few weeks before the new school year. If I were a worse person, I would forget about Baz, finish my lessons, and just go to bed. He’s my former bully, I shouldn’t care. But when I think about Baz, drunk, bleeding, sitting there alone at a bar waiting for me but I never show up, my stomach plummets to the centre of the Earth.

Godammit.

I march towards the door, grab my keys, and set out to fulfill a bad idea.

Turns out this bar is right in the middle of bloody Shoreditch. Which means at this time of night (or morning), there’s lots of closing nightclubs and stumbling drunk people being sick on the sidewalk. Glad I didn’t take the tube.

XOYO is a mostly nondescript red brick building with some black panelling and a neon red sign. I park as close as I can, which is not that close. The stairs up to the club are steep and leave me panting by the end. Bloody hell, I need to get back to the gym. Chasing ten years old is not enough exercise apparently. The bar is one of those hipster places with wooden tables and old Victorian chairs and candles. There’s a few people passed out on tables, snoring with their beer glasses.

“Simon!” a familiar voice shouts from the bar. “Simon, over here!”

I turn to my left too look at the bar, and...wow. After seven years, Baz looks so different, yet so the same. Same sharp cheekbones, same long-ish raven hair, same deep sea grey eyes. He’s broader though, shoulders filling out his blood stained grey dress shirt. Far less gaunt and gangly and vampiric looking than he was in school. The shirt has the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Weird. Baz always had his uniform buttoned to collar in school. Then I have to do a double take, because...Baz Pitch is wearing jeans? They’re dark and expensive looking, hugging his legs, which still have a footballer’s strong muscles. He has a big, dopey, drunk grin, which is offset by the small black eye and blood trickling from his nose. It’s unfortunate this is the first time I’ve ever seen him smile.

I walk towards him, hands in my pockets, shoulders nervously hunched in. Why is my heart beating so fast? Bloody hell, calm down, Simon, it’s just Baz. You know him, probably better than most people. He’s an arsehole, not evil. And we haven’t had a physical fight since we were thirteen. Plus it’s been seven years, we’re adults now. He won’t bite. Hopefully.

“Hi Baz,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Uh, nice to see you.”

Baz squints at me, and a pang of panic shoots through me. Is there something wrong with my face? Bloody hell, what a cruel twist of fate it would be, to see my childhood enemy after years and have pizza sauce on my cheek.

“Um, Baz, you there?” I weakly wave a hand in front of him.

“Since when do you wear spectacles?” he asks, still slurring his words.

I instinctively touch my wireframe glasses, immediately self conscious. “Oh. Since first year uni. Turns out one of the reasons school Watford so hard for me was that I couldn’t read the board a lot.”

I chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. I expect Baz to laugh or mock me like he used to. But instead he grins again, leaning his cheek on his bruised hand. “They look good.”

Why are my cheeks heating up? Must be bad air conditioning. “Um, thanks, Baz.”

He keeps grinning, showing off his sharp bright white teeth. (There’s a good reason I thought he was a vampire.) “Welcome.”

It goes silent again, with me standing awkwardly and Baz grinning. Christ, this is so weird. I assumed I’d never see Baz ever again, let alone drunk and bloodied in designer jeans. I have less of an idea what to do than usual.

“Ugh, finally!” a woman’s voice says to the side. I whip my head around to see who must obviously be the bartender. She’s got a deep scowl on her face and hands on her hips. “You’re Simon Snow?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” I reply.

“Good. Please take this arsehole off my hands.”

Baz blows a raspberry at her like a toddler. Bloody hell, he is a weird drunk. The bartender glares and flips him off.

“I’ll get him out of here,” I say.

“Thank you.” She digs under the bar and takes out a sleek black iPhone. “Here’s his phone. Took it from him after he almost dropped it in a beer glass.”

“Alright.” My brow furrows in confusion. “Do you have Baz’s keys? Or does he still have them?”

“He never had them. Searched all his pockets, nothing there.”

“Worst feel up ever,” Baz grumbles.

I rub my aching temple. “Baz, did you really forget your keys?”

He frowns and scratches his head with a bloodied hand. “Hm, yes, I think I did. I left my flat pretty fast. Maybe the super will let me in if he’s awake.”

“Where do you live?”

His brows pull together, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Now that is certainly an expression I remember from school. It’s his thinking face. I used to glare at him while he studied all the time. “Somewhere...posh, and silver.”

I groan and drag a hand over my face. “Alright then. Well...I guess I’ll bring you to my flat.”

Baz’s jaw drops open and he shakes his head, making his black hair fan out in a strangely majestic way. “No no, you don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out-”

“No, Baz, you won’t, you’re too pissed to think right now. I’m taking you to my place, no questions.”

He frowns. I can’t tell if he’s sad or angry. “I don’t wanna im-”

“We lived together for years, arsehole. One more night won’t kill you. Come on, get up.”

I grab his bicep and haul him to his feet. Bloody hell, does he work out a lot or something? He’s made of fucking rock. Baz wobbles back and forth and ends up leaning on me. I struggle to keep him upright.

“Baz,” I grumble, “you’re too heavy, I can’t hold you up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He sort of heaves himself upwards, still wobbling on his feet, but at least he’s standing. That’s something I guess.

“You good?”

Baz sticks out his arms like he’s on a tightrope. “Yeah, I’m alright. Mostly.”

“Good enough. Let’s go.” I look over at the still very annoyed bartender. “Uh, thanks for taking care of him.”

“If you’re really thankful,” she spits, “make sure he doesn’t come back.”

She marches off into the back. Baz flips her off before I quickly pull down his hand. “Enough,” I grumble. “Let’s get you out of here before she smacks you.”

“Kinky,” he chuckles. God, drunk Baz is fucking weird.

Getting down the stairs takes far longer than it should. Baz has to watch his every step so he doesn’t go tumbling down. He’s like a shaky newborn fawn. It would be cute if it weren't so frustrating. Finally, we get to the bottom and I lead Baz by the sleeve towards my car. He laughs loudly when we reach it. I immediately scowl and whip around to face him.

“What?!” I snap, assuming he’s making fun of my old beat up beetle. But instead he has his head tilted upwards, laughing at the sky. Neon club signs and yellow street lights light up his smiling face. He’s like a rainbow constellation, colour reaching every crevice. Huh. Baz has always been pretty, but has he always been this pretty?

“Lights in the sky,” he laughs. “Pretty.”

I groan and tug him hard. “Come on, you drunk prat, hurry up.”

Baz stumbles along reluctantly. I shove into the passenger seat and buckle him up like he’s a bloody eight year old, then take my place in the driver’s seat. Baz is slumping, the seat belt digging into his cheek. If we crash his pretty face is going to get cut open. I debate telling him, but Baz rarely ever listens to me, and I doubt that has changed much.

I turn the engine over. Baz lets out a whoop so loud I jolt. “Allons-y,” he shouts like some deranged adventurer.

“Silence, s’il vous plait,” I reply as I turn on to the road.

“Oo, you speak French now, Snow?”

“Yes. I lived in France for a year, I learned pretty well.”

“Very nice.” For a moment I think he’s mocking me, but his smile is completely genuine, if not a bit drunken. Is it weird that I like drunk adult Baz better than sober teen Baz?

I drive through Shoreditch slowly, making sure not to hit any wayward club leavers. Baz grumbles about the slowness, but I tell him to shut up or I’ll drive us into a pole. That makes him quiet for a little while, thank god. When we hit the main drag, he decides to pipe up again.

“So what have you been up to, Snow?” he asks.

My eyes briefly flick over to him, catching his grin and glazed eyes. I scoff and look back at the road. “Really? We’re going to chit chat about life after Watford?”

“You just want us to sit in silence the whole time?”

“Maybe.”

“Boring,” he groans. “Come on, Snow, it’s been a while. Let’s catch up.”

I chuckle low in my throat. “Yes, I would love to catch up with my plastered childhood bully.”

Baz lets out a pathetic sort of whining sigh. Suddenly, something brushes my shoulder. I jolt away and briefly look over, realising it’s Baz’s hand. He’s pouting in the way his mouth is perfectly made for.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “About all the shit I did. I was a messed up prick at Watford. I’m really sorry I took that all out on you.”

I raise an extremely suspicious eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?!”

“It’s been seven years, Snow. Am I not allowed to learn from my mistakes?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, of course. I just didn’t expect it from you...”

“I’m a changed man, Snow,” he declares proudly. “No more picking on other people to avoid dealing with my emotional and family problems.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Wow, you sound like a therapist.”

“That’s because I am a therapist.”

We stop at a red light, giving me a chance to whip my head around in shock. My jaw is firmly on the ground. “You’re a therapist?!”

“Sort of.” Baz grins pointed ear to pointed ear. He offers his hand, though it’s a bit limp. “Dr. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, psychiatrist in training at University College Hospital. Pleasure to meet you.”

I can’t take my hands off the wheel, so I don’t take his, but I smile instead. Baz chuckles as his hand falls, so I think he gets the picture.

“Wow,” I sigh. “You, a psychiatrist. I never would have thought.”

“Me neither, until I took a psychology course in year 10. Then I decided I liked, y’know, mind stuff and shit. It was interesting and challenging. And I could help people with it.”

I scoff, but with a smile. “And you used to call me the overly noble hero.”

“Well, I decided to follow in your golden footsteps, golden boy.” He turns towards me, cheeks squished against the seat. He’s really going to die if we crash. “So really, what have you been up to since Watford, Mr. Hero? Storming castles? Saving damsels in distress? Travelling the world?”

That makes me laugh louder. “You have a way overinflated sense of my heroism.”

He snorts, but it’s not unkind like it used to be. Just sort of amused. “Alright. Then what do you do?”

“I’m, uh, actually a primary teacher. Year six, to be exact.”

“Oh,” Baz breathes out, sounding genuinely amazed. “That’s cool. That makes sense, yeah.”

“Makes sense?”

“You were always helping out the kids in younger years at Watford.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, guess you’ve got a point.”

“Is it fun? Teaching children?”

“Yeah. I like finding fun ways to teach them stuff. Though it’s not great they get in fights or stuck lego bricks up their noses.”

Baz lets out a barking laugh. It’s a fun, sudden sound. I’ve never heard it before, yet it works well for Baz. “Is that what people mean by ‘the joys of children?’”

“Something like that. Is psychiatry fun?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But time consuming. Doctors aren’t supposed to have damn lives apparently.”

“Well, good thing you found time to go to a hipster bar”

Everything suddenly gets very, very quiet. It reminds me of when we would study. Backs to each other, no noise, plenty of tension. Did I say something wrong? I used to do that a lot, but I thought I’d gotten better. I’ve learned to chew my words better over the years. But when we stop at a roundabout, I turn to see that Baz is gazing ahead, mouth a thin line and grey eyes lost in the distance.

“Pretty lights,” he whispers in awe, like a child. I guess alcohol does turn adults into children. His nose is still letting out a small trickle of dark red blood. I sigh and shake my head.

“Glove box,” I say.

Baz turns his head to me. “Huh?”

“There’s tissues in the glove box. Your nose is still bleeding a bit.”

“Oh.” He paws at the latch in front of him, floppy drunk fingers struggling to just bloody lift it. I sigh and reach over, lifting it for him. Baz takes out the little packet and flashes me that dopey smile. Why does my chest feel funny? I must be overtired.

“Thanks,” he says, then presses the tissue to his nose. It’s weirdly comforting in its familiarity. I still remember sitting in the headmaster’s office after our fights, covered in bruises and blood, glaring at each other. This is better though. We’re not fighting, in fact we’re being nice. Maybe this is how we could’ve been at Watford. Maybe we could’ve been...friends.

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride. But it’s a comfortable silence, no tension. I like it. A lot. I like all of this better than fighting.

———————————————

I pull into my spot in front of my apartment. Dragging Baz out of the car is a bit of a problem, but luckily my place has a lift, so no more stair problems. He starts leaning on me as we go up to my floor. I use one finger to push him back, and he slumps against the wall. I need to strap him to a dolly.

We go into my apartment, and I instinctively prepare for a snide comment from Baz. Something about it’s size, it’s clutter, the decor. But he says nothing derogatory. In fact, he smiles, brushing his hand against my Van Gogh print and old dining room table.

“You, uh, like it?” I ask. Wait, why does it matter what Baz thinks of my place? I don’t need his approval.

“Yeah,” Baz replies. “It’s very nice.”

There’s a thump from my room, followed by the familiar pitter-patter of tiny paws. Cherry prances into the room, all fluffy tailed and cute. She blinks up at Baz with big green eyes. Baz makes a tiny gasp and gets on his knees, holding his hand out to Cherry.

“Hello, pretty kitty,” he says softly. “Aren’t you an adorable little thing.”

Cherry sniffs his fingers, then immediately nuzzles against his hand. Baz looks absolutely elated, a big childish grin on his face.

“You like cats, huh?”

Baz nods vigorously. “I would have one if my building allowed pets.” He scratches behind Charry’s ear with glee. “What’s this little one’s name?”

“Her name is Cherry.”

“You did love those scones,” he chuckles.

I chuckle as well, fiddling with my shirt sleeve. “Still do. Though none are as good as Cook Pritchard’s.”

“Very true.” He stands up, pulling away from Cherry, and wobbles his way into the sitting room. He stands between my coffee table and ratty old couch. “So may I sleep on that couch?”

I scramble in after him and start piling up my curriculum papers. I don’t want Baz shouting at me for the mess. “Uh, yeah, just lemme fix it up a bit.”

“It’s alright-”

“No, I’ll fix it. And...maybe you should clean up a bit first?”

Baz turns to me with a confused expression. “What?” I sigh and point at is blood spattered shirt. He pulls it in front of himself, like a child who’s spilled food. “Oh, right.”

“There’s stuff on you face too...”

Baz drags a long finger over his cheek, and rubs the dried blood between his fingers. “Good  point.

“You wanna take a shower maybe?”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah. But be warned, I don’t have any of your fancy French soaps.”

He lets out a loud short laugh, like a happy little firecracker going off. “Wouldn’t expect you to, Snow. I doubt you’ve changed that much.”

“Heh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, which is getting very hot for some reason. I think I need to fix my fan.

Baz wobbles back towards me. He stands a bit too close, and now that things are calm, I notice how he smells. It’s a mix of liquor, irony blood, and the very faint, familiar scent of cedar and bergamot. Seven years later and I can’t forget that smell. I guess it’s burned into my brain forever. I’m not sure that I mind.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asks, snapping me out of my olfactory induced daze.

“Oh, uh, down the hall and to your left. There’s towels in the cupboard.”

“Alright.” He sticks his hands in his trouser pockets, a very shy gesture I’m not used to seeing from him. “Thank you. Again. I’m saying that a lot tonight, wow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “I guess so. Now go wash off that awful blood please.”

“Aye aye, Mr.Snow.” He does a mocking little American salute with two fingers. I watch as he half skips his way to the bathroom, trying not to giggle at his ridiculous gait.

The bathroom door shuts, and I let out a long breath. My brain is still playing catch up. I need to sit, relax, just process all this shit. Once I organize my papers into semi-neat piles and close my laptop, I grab a cherry granola bar from the counter and collapse on the couch. I hear the shower turn on. I glance over at the clock. Bloody hell, it’s past 3am, and my enemy is taking a shower in my flat. Well, former enemy, I guess. We’re not fighting anymore. In fact, Baz is being really nice. It’s pretty damn great. I hope we can keep this up.

Cherry jumps onto the couch, startling me from my daze. She immediately curls up on my lap, purring happily. I chuckle as I pet her. Penny jokes that Cherry is my emotional support service cat. Honestly, she’s not wrong. I don’t know what I would do without her.

“Wanna watch Dr. Who, darling?” I coo, scratching behind her ear. “Yes, yes you do.”

I grab the remote and turn on Netflix, going to one of my favourite episodes. We sit there in peaceful silence through the show. I try not to listen to the shower down the hall. I can’t help but worry. What if he slips and hits his head? What if he falls asleep and drowns? What if he tries to eat the bloody soap? All are strong possibilities. But he’s still Baz. He’s too smart and stubborn to die.

As I near the end of the episode, I realise it’s been half an hour since Baz went in. My heart beats double time, every fear racing through my head. (As well as concern for my water bill.) But the sound of water shuts off, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I hear Baz’s unsteady feet pad around the tiled floor. But then there’s rattling and muffled swearing, and I’m on my feet immediately. Cherry meows unhappily and scuttles away.

“Sorry, girl,” I say as I speed walk to the bathroom. I knock on the wooden door. “Baz? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” his muffled voice replies, but that’s followed by a loud bang. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I’m coming in.”

“Snow, wait-”

I push the door open and immediately freeze. All the blood in my body goes straight to my face, turning it tomato red. Because Baz Pitch is standing in front of my medicine cabinet with nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is soaked and messy, falling adorably in front his shocked face. His legs look strong enough to crush someone. Thin rivulets of water drip down his broad, bare chest. I watch them for a few long, drawn out seconds, completely frozen. In our time living together, Baz and I made a point to never see each other without clothes on. Did he even look close to this back at school? Did I just never notice?

“Um...” Baz says, breaking me out of my daze. I whip around, hand cupped over my eyes.

“Bloody hell, Baz!” I shout. “Give a guy some warning.”

“I would have if you hadn’t come bursting in!”

“Well, you took awhile in the shower, then I heard swearing. Excuse me for being concerned.”

“I’m grateful for your concern, Mr. Hero, though not for your usual brashness.”

“Just put some clothes on, please.”

“Very well.”

I listen to Baz shuffle and grumble as I assume he gets dressed. I resist the urge to turn around and check if he can get his legs into his trousers. I’m not sure how drunk he still is.

“You can turn around now, Snow.”

I slowly turn, and my face turns scarlet again. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!”

“Because mine is covered in blood,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which I guess it is, but still he’s not wearing a shirt. Why are my hands so clammy?

Baz starts sorting through the medicine cabinet. I frown in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for bandages.” He lifts his left hand, showing off his bruised, still slightly bleeding knuckles. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get it, sit down on the toilet.”

Baz stumbles over and does what he’s told (for once). I grab the first aid kit from under the sink and sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“Gimme your hand,” I say. Baz holds out his arm, fingers limp. I try not to look freaked out. His skin is black and blue and there are many cuts, still bleeding slowly. “Why are you still bleeding? It’s been like, an hour.”

“My blood alcohol content is high,” Baz replies. “Booze is a blood thinner. Means I’ll bleed more.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Thanks, Mr. Doctor.”

Baz chuckles, a soft smile playing on his mouth. “Dr. Grimm-Pitch will do.”

I laugh as well. I take a towel off the rack and pat his hand dry, then get the antiseptic.

“I just had a shower,” Baz protests.

“Don’t care. We need to make sure you don’t get an infection.”

“I’m fine.”

I pour the clear liquid on a sterile pad. “Still doing it.”

“I’m the doctor here, dammit.”

“The doctor who is still drunk off his arse after a bloody bar fight. So shut up.”

Baz frowns, but doesn’t protest. I lightly pat his cuts. He inhales sharply through his teeth and tries to pull away, but I grab his wrist, holding still.

“Don’t move,” I say.

“It hurts,” he whines like a toddler.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s what you get for getting in a bar fight, idiot.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t move again either. Once I’m satisfied all the cuts are clean, I use another pad to get them dry, then take out the bandages.

“You get injured a lot, Snow?” He’s smirking playfully, not a hint of malice. It’s much nicer than his smug arsehole face.

“No,” I chuckle. “But it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Especially if your former enemy shows up drunk and bleeding.”

Thoughts start racing through my head. Horrible, nervous thoughts. I stop wrapping his hand for a moment, but quickly start again. Unfortunately, Baz notices.

“Something on your mind, Snow?” he asks.

I chew on my bottom lip as I secure the bandage. I gesture for Baz to give me his other hand, and he does. I slowly pat on the antiseptic and he doesn’t move at all. Slowly, I look up, and I meet Baz’s deep sea eyes. He doesn’t look mad or annoyed, just concerned. So am I.

“Baz,” I sigh, “you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And considering you’re a bloody doctor now, I doubt that’s changed. So I’m absolutely astounded at how you could get so drunk and end up in a bar fight.”

Baz’s thin lips press together, and I watch his throat bob in a gulp. He leans his elbow on the sink, propping his cheek on his fist. “Snow,” he says slowly, “what do you know about my mother?”

My blood turns ice cold. I stop with the bandage completely, just looking at Baz. “Uh, not much. I know she died a long time ago. And...it was at Watford...”

Baz nods slowly. “Yes, that’s what everyone knows. But what most people don’t know is that I was there.”

And now my heart completely stops. My mouth falls open slightly. Baz’s face stays completely neutral. “You...you were there?”

“Yeah.” He leans harder on his fist. “I was sitting with the rest of the kids in the Watford nursery. Suddenly a group of men with knives burst in. They started to come after the nannies and the children. But that’s when my mother showed up with her hunting rifle. My father insisted she have it for protection when he wasn’t there. She got all of the men immediately, including the one holding me. She hit him in the shoulder so he dropped me. Another man charged her while she was distracted, and she shot him in the chest, but not before...” Baz rubs his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like I do when I have a headache. “Not before he stabbed her in the neck. She bled to death in seconds.” He drags his hand down his face. “I fell unconscious after that. When I woke up, my father and aunt were tending to my wounds, and my mother was gone. I was young, it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember enough.”

I’m left in stunned silence. Baz doesn’t say anything either, just rubbing his head. He’s not crying, but he looks on the verge of tears. I don’t blame him. I can’t believe it, can’t believe Baz went through that and no one ever knew. It’s just terrible.

“Wow,” I finally say, “that’s...wow.”

Baz chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I never knew that happened...”

“No one did, Snow. All the gruesome little details were kept under wraps. It would’ve been terrible if anyone found out Natasha Grimm-Pitch died in such an undignified way that traumatized her heir.”

His voice is mockingly scathing, even with his slightly slurred speech. He’s a mix between furious and mournful. I don’t understand how he feels, but I don’t think I ever could. I may never have had parents, but that’s a far cry from watching your’s die.

“I don’t know how much it means, but I’m sorry that happened to you Baz.”

The corner of his lip quirks up into a small half smile. “Thanks, Snow.”

I start wrapping his hand again, and my brow furrows. “So, uh, what does this have to do with you getting drunk and fighting? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Baz takes a deep inhale through his nose, and lets out the air through his mouth. “My mother was killed twenty years ago today.”

“O-oh. That...yeah, that makes sense.”

“Mhm. I’ve lived with it for most of my life, but this anniversary hit me harder than I expected. I had my first day off in months, so after some mindless telly, I went to that bar. Gave the bartender my card and told her to keep the tequila coming. First mistake.”

“Second one was getting in a fight?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He flexes his bandaged hand. “It was just some arsehole looking for trouble. He kept prodding at me and shoving my shoulder until I snapped. I don’t even remember what he said. I was just so angry and sad and drunk. And that arsehole was right there” He groans loudly and rubs his head. “One of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Probably. But you made one good choice.”

“Oh?”

I finish bandaging his other hand and smile at his mopey face. “You called me.”

His mopeyness melts away as he lets out a breathy laugh. Our eyes meet, and his are glinting in a way I’ve never seen before. “Yeah, I guess that was a good idea.”

We smile at each other. Something tugs in my chest, something I don’t fully understand. I’ve never felt anything like this. Maybe I’m just overtired.

Baz flexes his bandaged hands. I put the first aid kit under the sink again. Baz stands and presses a hand to his bruised eye. hissing between his teeth. “Got any ice packs, Snow?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply. “It’s in the kitchen, c’mon.”

We walk towards the kitchen. I open the freezer and pull out my reusable ice pack. Teaching a bunch of children can result in some bad headaches. I wrap it in a napkin and hand it to Baz. He presses it to his eye with clenched teeth. As he leans back against the counter, I remember he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Uh,” I say, “those jeans don’t look comfortable. I’ve got some spare pyjamas. Want me to get them?”

Baz nods. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

“Alright, stay here.”

I go to my bedroom, wading through the laundry I have to do tomorrow to get to the dresser. It takes awhile for me to find something that will probably fit Baz. Damn his extra four inches, always so infuriating. I eventually pick out some trackies and a long Chicago Cubs shirt. It’s all I’ve got. I go back to the kitchen, and come upon a strange scene.

“Baz,” I say slowly, “what are you doing?

Baz looks up from the messy, cutlery covered counter, still pressing the ice pack to his eye. He lifts a plate with two pieces of bread, both half covered in marmite. “Making a marmite and cheese sandwich. You want half?”

His expression is so innocent, not a hint of the old malice I used to know. I let out a sigh. “Sure. Let me get the cheese.”

He grins and goes back to slathering on marmite. I pull my sliced sandwich cheese from the fridge. Hope Baz doesn’t mind cheap Tesco brand swiss. I bring the package to the counter, and Baz takes out a slice without even looking. Guess he’s not as snobbish about food as he used to be. He cuts the sandwich into two slightly lopsided triangles and swans out to my dining room. I follow behind with the pyjamas.

Baz sits in a chair, leaning back with his legs spread out. I sit across from him, placing the clothes on the table. Baz snatches it. It unfolds and his brows pull together.

“You a baseball fan now, Snow?” he asks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah. Micah definitely is though.”

“Who?”

“Remember that American exchange student from fourth year?”

“The short nerd with large glasses?” His voice is muffled as he struggles to put on the shirt. Drunk Baz doesn’t get along with t-shirt holes.

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe him I guess. He and Penny started dating then and have been together ever since. She lives in America with him now.”

Baz’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s wonderful. How is Bunce? I miss facing off with her in debate club.”

“She’s doing well. She’s got a job as an assistant professor in Chicago and loves American food. I just saw her a few weeks ago on vacation.”

“Marvelous. Tell her I say hello next time you speak to her.”

“Will do.” We both take one half of the marmite-cheese sandwich. Baz takes a huge bite, followed by a happy groan. I can’t tell if he’s drunk hungry or actually hungry. Probably somewhere in between. I take a bite as well. There’s far too much marmite, but it’s four in the morning. Right now anything tastes good.

Thinking of Penny makes me think of Watford. And something else, or more accurately someone else, pops into my head.

“Hey,” I say through the marmite, “you said you talked to Agatha earlier. How are you two still in contact? She cut off almost everyone after Watford. I didn’t start talking to her again until a year ago.”

Baz quickly chews and swallows. “Funny story there. I did a semester abroad in California and ended up in the same biology class as Agatha. It was extremely awkward at first. But once we sat down over coffee and sorted stuff out, we bonded very quickly. Similar upper class British family problems and expectations.”

“Oh. That’s makes sense I guess. It’s nice you guys talk.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He chuckles, mouth gummed with marmite. “The weirdest part was telling her I’m gay. I apologised for leading her on, and you know what she did?”

I lean over the table, genuinely enraptured. “What?”

“Laughed her fucking arse off for ten minutes straight.”

I snort so hard I nearly shoot sandwich out my nose. Baz throws his head back laughing. He’s so loud he might disturb my neighbours, but I don’t care. His laugh is too incredible.

“Just like that,” he giggles, calming down.

“So she wasn’t mad?” I ask.

“No, not at all. She admitted she wasn’t really into me. She was just rebelling against her parents. We both sympathised on that front.” He sighs and leans back even more. “That’s all I wanted at Watford, really. I was under so much pressure to be the perfect son. I seriously considered yelling ‘fuck it’ and doing whatever I wanted.”

I sigh too, putting my cheek against my palm. “Yeah, I understand that. Mr. Mage put a lot of pressure on me. He wanted to prove to the Watford board that scholarship students were worthwhile, and since I was Watford’s very first scholarship kid, I had to be perfect. Every time I got a low grade he would yell at me for an hour.”

“What a prick,” Baz grumbles.

I chuckle as I nod slowly. “Yeah, total prick. Watford wasn’t an easy place to be.”

Baz slowly lowers his sandwich, looking pointedly at the plate, and therefore not me. My heart speeds up. Did I say something wrong? Did I piss him off by accident? I do that a lot. And I definitely used to do that to Baz.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t mean to pry,” he says carefully. “And maybe this is me still being pretty drunk. But...I saw something in your medicine cabinet.”

I squint, trying to think what could be so concerning. “Saw what?”

He fiddles with his still damp hair. It’s an old nervous habit I recognise from finals studying. “A bottle of citalopram. I’m a future psychiatrist, I know what that medication is usually for...”

My stomach drops out. I freeze with the sandwich still in my hand. “Oh,” I squeak.

“Yeah.” He leans closer, eyes round and sympathetic. “I’m sorry I looked. And...I’m sorry if I had any part in your need for it-”

“No no, Baz.” I shake my head, leaning forward as well. “You don’t have to. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s in particular, really. It’s stupid chemicals misfiring in my brain. You’re a doctor, you know that.”

“Yes, of course I know that, Snow. But I also know my incessant arsehole behaviour for seven years probably didn’t help.”

I shrug, leaning back again. “Probably. And I bet me insulting you and punching you in the face all the time didn’t help your mental health either.”

He smiles and laughs again. He looks better when he laughs. “Okay, good point.”

“Exactly. So let’s agree neither of us need to apologise. We’ll let the past be the past, move on from here.”

“So you mean a truce?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I reach out my hand. “Truce.”

Baz smiles and clasps his hand with mine. His skin is just as rough and cold as I remember it being back at school. But even after we pull apart, my skin still feels warm.

“Just so we’re even,” Baz says with his mouthful, “my favourite antidepressant was cipralex. I went off it a few months ago because it started making me too drowsy, but it worked well for years. Citalopram made me far too ill. When I first tried it, I ended up vomiting in a bloody bedpan.”

I burst out laughing. And Baz’s grin outshines the sun.

We finish our sandwiches together. Baz complains that his mouth tastes like a rubbage heap. Apparently the combination of old tequila, Tesco cheese, and marmite creates a truly awful flavour. I give him an unused toothbrush from the dentist. He goes into the bathroom and soon emerges with clean teeth and wearing my trackies. I’m back on the couch with Cherry in my lap.

“You tired?” I ask.

“Not really,” Baz replies. “Late hospital shifts have turned me into an insomniac.”

“Wanna watch some Dr. Who?”

He throws himself down next to me, long arm stretched out over the back of the couch behind me. “Sure.”

I switch to a new episode. It’s a standalone, so Baz won’t be too confused. But he still asks incessant questions. Who’s this, what’s that, how the everloving fuck can they do that and survive? No wonder he’s a doctor. He’s perfect at looking for answers, no matter how annoying he is. Eventually I have to threaten to duct tape his mouth to get him to shut up. He huffs, crosses his arms, and sinks down further.. His head ends up on my shoulder. Despite my shorter neck length and Baz’s naturally long face, his head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck. Like it was made to be there. Wait, where did that thought come from?

The credits roll, and I notice a quiet whistling noise. I turn my head to the side. Oh. Baz is asleep. His eyes are softly closed and his lips are slightly parted. I’ve seen Baz sleep before of course, but this is different. Baz had nightmares throughout our entire time at Watford. (So did I.) I don’t think he’s having one now though. There’s no thrashing or whimpers. I’ve never seen Baz look so...peaceful.

“Baz,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond at all. “Baz,” I say louder, jerking my shoulder a bit.

“Ugh,” he groans, “let me sleep in, Daphne, it’s summer.”

“I’m not your step-mum, Baz.”

He cracks one eye open. “No, you’re really not, Snow.”

“Yeah. You wanna go to bed?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Okay.” I slowly get up, easing Baz off my shoulder. I gently lower him onto the couch. The bottom half of his face hangs off the arm. Yeah, he’s going to need a pillow. I go to my bedroom and grab a pillow and blanket. I also make a stop by the bathroom for some aspirin and make another at the kitchen for some water and a bowl, in case he’s sick. I would prefer not to clean vomit out of my carpet.

Baz is still awkwardly pressed against the sofa arm, drooling slightly. Who would’ve thought I’d see the day Baz Pitch drooled in his sleep? I wouldn’t have. Not in a million years. But apparently tonight is a time for new things.

I place the bowl, water, and aspirin on my coffee table. Slowly and carefully, I lift Baz’s head and fit a pillow under it. I drape the blanket over his annoyingly tall body. His arm hangs like a limp noodle off the side. I sigh, kneeling down to tuck it back in.

Out of nowhere, I feel long, rough fingers touching my cheek. My whole body locks up in shock. Slowly, I raise my head, and I meet Baz’s half open grey eyes and soft smile.

“Uh, Baz?” I say, not sure what else I can.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers. My eyes widen and every nerve in my body is filled with...something? Fear, nerves, an absolute sense of what the fuck? I can’t tell.

“W-What?”

Baz’s hand moves lower. His thumb traces just under my bottom lip. Why does my skin feels like it’s fire? “Your face, it’s still really pretty.”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, I guess you’d know. You punched it enough.”

He laughs softly. His hand falls, pulling back under the blanket, and his eyes slip shut. “Wish I had kissed it instead.”

I don’t even have time to respond to that, because Baz is asleep in an instant, snoring quietly once again. I’m frozen in place. My jaw is slack. Baz would tell me I’m going to catch flies. Baz, who’s sleeping right in front of me, who wished he had kissed me? My brain can’t process this. I’m like a computer with an eternal blue screen. This does not compute, cannot compute, fuck fuck fuck.

There’s only one thing I can think to do.

I grab my phone, rush to my room, and close the door. Cherry is already curled up on her side. The second I’m sitting on the mattress, I click Penny’s contact.

“Hello?” Her voice immediately calms me down.

“Hi, Pen,” I say.

“Simon?! Bloody hell, isn’t it like four in the morning in London?”

I look over at my clock. “Uh, yup, just about.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are calling me at four AM?”

I sigh and flop backwards. “Pen, you’re not going to believe who is sleeping in my living room right now.”

“Who? The Doctor? Boris Johnson? The Queen of England>

A laugh bubbles from my mouth. “Nah, even weirder.”

I can almost hear Penny’s face pinching together in confusion. “Who?”

“Baz Pitch.”

She gasps loudly. “What?! As in Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch? That Baz Pitch?!”

“You think there’s another Baz Pitch in existence?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “good point. So why is your arsehole former roommate sleeping on your couch?”

I rub the bridge of my nose. It doesn’t help. I’m not sure anything can help now. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

I sigh, and start spinning my insane tale. From the call to the bar to my flat, how Baz and I talked and became friendly and made a weird truce over cheese and marmite. I try to say everything quickly yet accurately. Penny barely makes a noise as I talk. I can’t tell if she’s shocked or contemplative. Probably both, honestly. I can’t blame her. The more I talk, the more completely nuts it all sounds. I’m living in a bloody sitcom.

“And then,” I say, “he held my face, said I was beautiful, and that he wished he had kissed me instead of punching me!”

“Wow,” Penny gasps. “That’s...a lot.”

“I know right? I’m so confused and I have no idea what the fuck to do!”

“Okay. What do you want to do though?”

I rub my very aching brow. “I don’t know, Pen. It’s so weird. Like, is this something he’s just realised or has Baz always felt this way?”

“Probably the second one.”

I bolt upright, brows knitted together. “Wait, really? You think so?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“But why?!”

“Well, Baz has always been very obsessed with you. He would go out of his way to be around you.”

“Yeah, to torment me,” I grumble.

Penny lets out a sigh. “Yes, he did. But as you told me, Baz said he picked on you because he couldn’t deal with his emotional issues. One of those issues certainly could have been romantic feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t he just say something?!”

“Because he was the gay son of a conservative upper class British family, which probably wasn’t easy to deal with. Plus, his father and aunt hated the idea of scholarship students, also known as you.”

My righteous anger fizzles out like a dying campfire, shoulders slumping as I fall back against the headboard. “Oh. Yeah, that’s a good point. Still shouldn’t have been a snob and a bully.

“No he shouldn’t have. It was probably half poor coping and half trying to get your attention.”

“Like a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a stupid and sexist way to handle a crush. I tell my students that all the time.”

Penny sighs. “Yeah, of course it is. But I’m pretty sure Baz knows that, at least now. He’s sorry for what he did. It seems like he’s gotten a lot better.”

“Yeah.” A smile creeps across my face without thinking. It just feels natural. “He’s gotten a lot nicer. He’s not the perfect, pretty, unfeeling arsehole I thought he was. And he’s funny, at least when he’s drunk. We had a pretty great time .”

I laugh quietly, but Penny’s is far louder. She sounds like she’s muffling her giggles. I frown a bit. “What’s so funny, Pen?”

“Oh,” she keeps giggling, “I think I’ve just realised something, and it’s hilarious.”

“Realised what?”

She takes a few deep calming breaths while my anxiety just climbs. “Simon,” she says kindly. This is the way she used to speak while explaining our complicated maths homework. “Hear me out, but I don’t think Baz is the only one who feels something.”

“Huh?”

“I think you have at least a few romantic feelings for Baz.”

“What?!” I shout far too loudly, and I worry I’m going to wake up Baz. I crouch inward, like I’m hiding, but I’m not really sure what. Baz? Penny? Myself?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss.

“Hear me out,” Penny says. “I’m saying that based on the evidence, you may have latent romantic feelings for Baz Pitch.”

“What evidence?!”

Penny lets out a low chuckle, like a super villain who’s plan has come to fruition. “Let’s see. Number one: back at Watford, you spent 99% of your time thinking about, talking about, or being with Baz. I had to put a limit on how much you were allowed to talk about Baz, remember?”

“Yeah, because he was bugging me,” I mumble.

“Number two: when you talked about Baz, it was always about how annoyingly pretty, smart, and graceful he was. You hated him, yet you had so many nice things to say.”

“Well he was perfect and it was annoying!”

“Number three: During the entire time you dated Agatha, you paid far more attention to Baz than you ever did to her.”

“T-That’s not true!” Though, looking back...fucking hell, it might actually be true.

“Number four: even though you hadn’t seen him in seven years, you dropped everything at two AM to go pick up his drunk arse from a bar.”

“It was the right thing to do!”

“Number five: you just gushed about how much you like Baz now and that he’s fun to be around. And I bet you were smiling.”

“No.” I think my cheeks are turning red.

I hear some rustling, and I think Penny is leaning forward in her chair. I can almost see her kind face in front of me. “Simon, I don’t want to push anything on you, but I also want you to really think about this. I know you hate to analyse things but it’s necessary right now. Maybe it could lead to something good.”

I tug on my hair, trying to distract myself. “I don’t know about that, Pen.”

“I know. Doesn’t even have to be romantic, maybe a good friendship. You could use more friends. And I’m not saying you have to jump his bones tomorrow.”

“Penny!” Now I’m definitely blushing.

She laughs uncontrollably, snorting every once in awhile. I cover my blushing face and groan. “Oh, I’m only joking, Si,” she says. “But I’m serious, don’t shut it down. Think about it. Baz is nice now, maybe it could work.”

“Why are you so desperate to set me up with my former enemy?”

“Because you haven’t been on a date or made new friends since first year uni. And I haven’t heard you this happy about being around someone in years.”

I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I’ve had more fun with Baz in one night than I have in ages. I enjoyed talking to him. I enjoyed laughing with him. I’m glad he’s asleep in the next room, where I can make sure he’s okay.

“You may have a point,” I say.

“Of course I do.”

I roll my eyes, just like she does. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve always known you’re smarter than me.”

“Mhm. And in my smart opinion, you need to go to bed.”

“Will do.” I flop backwards. The pillow feels heavenly on my head. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You better. Night, Si.”

I smile, and I hope she can hear my love and gratitude over the phone. “Night, Pen.”

The phone clicks off. I let it fall to the side. I am 0.2 seconds from passing out, even with so much still on my mind. I plug in my phone and turn on my side. I pull Cherry close to me. She curls around my hand like usual. When I close my eyes, all I see is raven hair, deep sea grey eyes, and a smile I never knew was there before.

———————————————

“Bloody fucking shit!”

I wake up with a start, clutching my sheet. Late morning sunlight is bleeding through the gap in my curtains. There’s muffled banging on the other side of my door. It’s like a very clumsy little rhino is moving through my flat. But I know exactly who it is.

I grab my glasses and slowly walk down the hall, peeking around the corner. It’s weird to sneak around my own apartment. I see a familiar long, lithe back, bent over as he struggles to get his struggles to get his oxfords on. He keeps wavering side to side like a branch in the wind.

“Good morning,” I say nonchalantly.

Baz whips around so fast he nearly topples over, stumbling to the side. He looks even more disheveled than last night, hair extremely tangled from sleeping on it wet, bruise worsening under his eyes, and bloodstained shirt buttoned wrong. He looks absolutely shocked to see me, which is odd, considering this is my flat.

“Um,” he says, shakiness in my voice, “good morning, Snow.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“Uh, well, yes, I suppose.”

I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. “So you were going to go and what? Leave me a thank you note like some bad teen movie?”

He probably thinks I don’t notice, but I see him crumple up and shove something in his back pocket. “No. I-I would’ve texted you my thanks.”

“Because that’s so much better.”

Baz looks down in shame, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...I didn’t want to make things awkward after last night. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted and imposing on you.”

“It’s okay.” I walk forward, hands in my trackie pockets. “I know you were pretty drunk, but, what do you remember from last night?”

Baz looks up, but still doesn’t meet my eyes. “I remember, being upset, going to the bar, getting in the fight, and the bartender screaming colourful obscenities at me.” That makes him laugh a little. It still sounds so nice. “Then I called you, you came and you had glasses. We drove to your place. I had a shower. You tended to my wounds like some war nurse.”

I giggle, nodding in complete agreement. “Yeah, I definitely did do that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Then uh, we ate sandwiches, watched Doctor Who, and I assume I fell asleep.”

“Okay.” I draw out the last syllable on purpose, making my doubt extremely clear. “That’s most of it, but you’re missing a few key parts.”

“Am I?” He’s trying to sound confident, but I know Baz, and I can hear a waver in his voice.

I start walking closer. “Mhm. You’re missing the parts where you apologized for being a prick in school, called my flat was good, liked my cat, said you drank because it was the anniversary of your mother’s horrible death, talked about your experience with antidepressants.” I’m only a few feet away from him now, looking him right in his pretty. “And, the part where you said that you wished you had kissed me back at school instead of punching me.”

With his complexion, it’s hard to tell when Baz is blushing. But I can see it. Scarlet creeps down from his cheeks to his long neck, eyes locked on me in stun.

“Oh,” he squeaks. “I see.”

“You really don’t remember all that?”

He rubs his brow. “Well, maybe, it’s just...fuzzy.”

“But was it true? Did you like me back at Watford?”

He visibly gulps, then looks at the floor again. He looks incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. “Yes,” he says, like he has to force himself to say it. “Yes, it’s true.”

I let out a long breath, half from relief, half to calm myself down. Okay. It’s true. Baz had feelings for me. All through school, all that time, Baz was pining after me from afar. And I never knew. Not a bit. But I think that was the idea.

“Alright,” I say.

Baz lifts his eyes slightly, cocking one eyebrow. “Alright? Is that all you have to say?”

I shrug high then drop my shoulders low. “I don’t know what else to say. That’s all. It changes a lot of things I assumed in school.”

“I bloody well hope so.” His voice is lighter, trying to lift the mood, trying to make this even slightly less than horribly awkward.

“So,” I say drawing out the o, “when, uh, did it start? You feeling like...that.”

If Baz’s blush could get any worse, I think it just did. He plays with his sleeves, his buttons, his hair, obviously looking for a distraction. “I realised it when I was 15. But I think, it started almost since we met.”

That hits me hard. The first year we met, I wore ratty old clothes and was essentially nonverbal. Baz saw me like that, a dirty silent little orphan kid, and he already liked me. He didn’t show it, but only because he couldn’t. He cared about me, even then. Even when so few truly did.

“Huh,” I say stupidly. “That’s a long time.”

He lets out a scoffing chuckle. “No shit, Snow.”

“That makes me feel even more sorry for being a prick to you in school.”

Baz shakes his head very quickly. “No, no, don’t apologize. I was a prick to you first. I just...” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “In my family, I wasn’t supposed to be gay, let alone have feelings for someone they hated. I lashed out and hurt you because I was hurting. It was wrong.”

He sighs and sits down heavily on the couch. He looks so forlorn and ashamed, head hanging forward, his hair like a curtain. All the guilt seems to be pushing down on his shoulders, making him slump. Penny was right, as usual. But to hear it from Baz, to see him like this, it tugs on my heart. Like that time I caught him drunk in front of his mother’s grave when we were fifteen, or twice last night. He’s grown a lot and gotten happier, but a small part of Baz is still that sad kid, I guess.

Slowly, I walk towards him and sit down. Before I can think too much, I reach out and touch his hand. Baz’s head snaps up, completely terrified and shocked. Yet, he doesn’t pull away. One by one, I slip my fingers between his. Baz’s skin is such a strange contrast. My palm touches the smooth back of his hand, while fingers trace tiny rough ridges. It feels...really good.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I know it’s been awhile, but what do you think about me now?”

I look him in the eye. I can see the way his lips shift, feel how his hand twitches. I wish I could hear what he’s thinking right now. He stays silent, so I decide to jump in.

“Well, let me start. I know what I think about you. I think,” I move closer, “that you’re kind, funny, smart, and still annoyingly gorgeous.” That makes his eyes widen ever so slightly. “And now I also know that you’re incredibly strong. That you struggled and mourned and came out okay. I mean, you’re a bloody doctor who’s going to help people work through their own problems. That’s amazing.”

Baz looks so shocked, probably both at my words and my coherency. I’ve gotten a lot better at speaking over the years. I’m so glad for that right now. “You really think all that, Snow?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always found you annoyingly amazing. Now it’s just not so annoying anymore.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?”

Baz presses his lips together for a split second. “Honestly, yes. We hated each other for years, fought like cats and dogs. I assumed I had ruined any chance of that changing.”

“Well,” I move even closer so our thighs press together, “you didn’t. Because I like this.”

“What is this?”

“This!” I gesture wildly between us. “What we’re doing right now. I like this, I like you.”

He looks so shocked, yet there’s a twinkle of happiness too. “Like me how? As...a friend?”

And he calls me oblivious. I squeeze his hand again. “That depends. I know it’s been a long time, so have your...feelings about me gone away?”

Baz stares at me, studying my face. I just watch his eyes roam over me again and again. Then he reaches forward and delicately places his hand on my cheek, just like last night. Except it feels more purposeful. And so much better.

“No,” he says quietly, “they haven’t gone away. I don’t think they ever could.”

My body feels so light and happy and indescribably full. I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone. It’s hit me so suddenly, yet it feels so right. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning.

“Okay,” I say. “I feel the same.”

Baz’s hand falls, touching my arm. He raises a perplexed eyebrow. “Okay, but since when?”

I shrug, which makes Baz roll his eyes. “I’m not sure. All I know is that I do. That’s what really matters, right?”

He sighs. His hand moves up and down my arm. I can’t tell if he’s studying me or trying to hold on. “I suppose, yes.”

“Exactly. So why don’t we give it a shot?”

“What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” Baz’s lips falls open and hand slips slightly down my arm. I hold onto him tighter. “Like, fair warning, I’m not a great boyfriend. I forget things, I’m super clumsy, and I haven’t dated anyone seriously since Agatha, so my experience is limited. But I like you. And I’m not asking for something serious right now, I just want to give this a try. Do you maybe want to?”

Baz’s face is such strange, confusing mixture. His brows are tense and pulled together. They scream worry and doubt. His thin beautiful lips hang open is absolute disbelief. But his eyes, a mix of dark blue and dark green, are filled to the brim with hope.

“I’m a doctor,” he blurts out.

“Um, yeah, I know,” I reply, trying not to laugh.

He shakes his head violently. “No, you don’t understand. I’m a medical resident. I’m at the hospital almost every day. I have barely any free time, and if I do I use it to sleep. And I don’t have much experience either. I’ve had two semi serious relationships that both ended in flames. I’m terrible at everything relationship related, probably even more than you, Snow.”

Baz looks so frantic and scared, but he’s hanging on to my hand. In spite of harsh realities, he doesn’t want to let go. I think he’s expecting me to admit defeat and walk away. But what he doesn’t seem to get, is that I don’t want to let go either.

I move closer, and cup his face this time. Baz instinctively leans into it. “You called me Simon before.”

He lets out a bursting laugh, sudden and unwanted. He immediately calms down, but there’s a little smile there. “Really? That’s what you care about?”

“Yeah. Because I like hearing you say it, and I like this. So,” I squeeze his hand again, “I want to try, no matter the risks. We’ll just deal with the rest later.”

He gives me a doubtful expression. “That’s your solution? Put off thinking about the problems we may face?”

“Yup. Because I want this, you want this, and that’s all that matters.”

“I guess...”

Stupid bastard still overthinks everything. I don’t want his mind far away, I want it right here with me. I brush my thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “Plus, I’d rather focus on other things right now.”

“Oh? What things?”

“Well, more a question.” I deliberately move my hand lower, tracing under his bottom lip. “You said you wished you had kissed me when we were in school.”

He gulps. I watch his Adam’s apple bob slowly. “Yes, I did.”

“So, do you still want to kiss me?”

His eyes flick down, just for a moment. I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Yes.”

I smile, leaning close so our noses brush. “Then do it.”

Baz doesn’t ask for anymore assurance. He just leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine. And my mind completely implodes.

His lips are colder than Agatha’s, than anyone’s really. It’s like kissing a soft autumn breeze. Just chilly enough to send shivers over your skin. Yet when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, I melt completely, leaning closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. He clutches my sides, hanging on with a death grip. Like he never wants to let me go. (I wouldn’t mind that.) It’s an awkward position, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I run my hand through his hair. It’s soft and slips through my fingers, just like I thought it would. I clench my fist and push his face into mine. I more feel him groan than hear it. He bunches my shirt in his own fists. I like him here, under my hands, not off being sad or drunk, where I know he’s okay. I’ve got you know, Baz, I’m not letting go.

From that first press of our lips, I know I want this. Baz feels perfect and wonderful. I want to kiss him forever. It’s strange, to have something you never knew you wanted before, and suddenly need to hang onto it forever.

We both pull apart at relatively the same time, flushed and out of breath. Baz’s eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown incredibly huge, and his lips are swollen and pink. I think mine are too, at least it feels like they are. I’ve never felt so elated from just one kiss. I’m sure I never will again.

“Wow,” I breathe out.

Baz lets out a breathy laugh, so quiet and sweet. “Very eloquent.”

I chuckle too, twisting a strand of his hair. “Yeah, well, that’s all I can manage right now. I think you broke my brain.”

“Don’t stroke my ego too much, Snow. I’ll get a big head.”

“You mean a bigger one?”

Baz glares, but when I flash one grin, his entire face melts. My heart melts too. It’s in a goddamn puddle on the floor forever.

Baz presses one hand to his temple, eyes squinting shut. “Bloody hell, all the drinking and excitement is too much for my head.”

“Did you take the aspirin I left?”

“Yes, but apparently that only does so much. I want coffee.”

“I’ve got some. Probably not very fancy, but it’s good enough. That alright?”

He flashes a lopsided grin. It’s incredibly sweet, making me smile in return. “That would be wonderful, Simon.”

God, I want to hear him say my name like that a thousand times.

We reluctantly untangle ourselves, but our hands stay linked. I lead Baz to my tiny dining room table. He sits on the far side, facing the open space of my kitchenette. My hand drags across his as we reluctantly let go. I walk into the room and flip on my ancient coffee machine.

“How do you take your coffee?” I say over my shoulder. “Black?”

“Actually, I like a lot of cream and sugar.”

I laugh loudly and smile at him. “Still have a sweet tooth, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Of course. I still remember how you would steal my mint aeros.”

“You have no proof of that, Snow,” he singsongs.

His voice is light and joking. I look over my shoulder, and see his soft smile. I want to see that smile all the time. I want to find out every little happy expression he has, the ones I never got to see when we were kids.

“I’ll find some,” I reply..

“It’ll take a lot of coaxing.”

I lean against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him. Baz Pitch, the former arsehole bully, now the mostly well adjusted altruistic doctor, still someone who can occupy most of my thoughts. This is all new yet so familiar.

“Good thing we’ve got time,” I say.

Baz leans his cheek on his palm. From his calm, happy expression, I know he agrees. We’ve got time to not just catch up, but start something strange and beautiful and new.

And I’ve never been so excited in my life.

———————————————

AN: Is this a bit unrealistic? Yes. Is this super adorable? Also yes. Hope you guys thought the same. I def enjoy writing drunk Baz and switching it up so Simon has glasses this time. And I like Simon's total obliviousness to his own feelings. He's a dumb romantic little shit lol. Thanks for reading, see y'all next time :D

PS: XOYO is a real bar. Hopefully they don't have to deal with drunk traumatized psychiatry residents too much lol.

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Shanie's Dream Journal 9/19/2021

This is a particularly bloody dream that involves North Korea, the CIA, and somehow, my dating Tim Minchin.

Dream behind cut.

Ok, so I don’t think I will make a dream fic about this one because there is too much missing from my memory to make it a proper story. But this is the dream as it happened.

I dreamed that I was an American who was, for some odd reason, living in what I think was supposed to be North Korea, however the hell that works.

Anyway, I’m living there with my girlfriend who is from Korea. We are pretty happy and, one day, we’re out at a swimming pool. I’m giving her swimming lessons because she doesn’t know how to swim. We get word while we’re swimming that an impromptu military parade is going to be going by us and we are expected to attend. The issue is we’re both in swimsuits and soaking wet and it’s pretty cold outside. So, we decide to get changed first, with my girlfriend getting a cup of water as we leave.

We go to stand in line for the parade but, as we are late, we can’t find a spot. We’re still looking when a general in the parade sees us behind the crowd looking all wet and soggy and calls for the parade to stop. He orders soldiers to come after us and we’re thrown on our knees. My girlfriend tries to explain our appearance and lateness but the General orders her executed. He then goes to have me executed but I fight back, taking out several soldiers and making my escape.

I somehow escape the country and end up back in the US. Now, the government wants me to be a spy for them. They tell me straight out that the North Koreans will be hunting me down even in the US and I might as well come work for the CIA to gain their protection. I do and, over the next few years, I run several domestic missions for them, taking out sleeper cells and stuff.

(here’s where it gets weird)

One day, on a day off, I’m attending a Tim Minchin concert. It’s very good and I love it. However, I’m called away mid-concert for a job and have to leave. When I return, the show is long over. But, as it turns out, my car won’t start, and I have to try and find someone to help me. Naturally being a CIA agent just off a job this proves problematic, and I try to fix the car myself. I’m still trying when Tim Minchin himself comes up to me and asks if I need help. I get all flustered and tell him my car won’t start and he smiles and takes a look at it.

Naturally, the issue is something small and he fixes it in no time. He asks me if I liked the show and I tell him I did, leaving out the part about how I missed half of it. He tells me that they’re still packing his stuff up and they won’t be ready to leave for a while and he’s just come out for some air.

We get to talking and sparks begin to fly.

By the time he heads back inside, he’s given me his personal number and tells me to call him sometime.

Fast forward to sometime later when I’m doing a job in an Australian hotel. Since I’m in Oz, I figure, what the hell, and give him a call as I’m leaving the hotel (after killing the spy I’d been sent after). He’s surprised to hear from me, but I ask if he wants to meet up for coffee. He agrees and we go on a date.

At the date it becomes clear he has a thing for me. He asks me what I’m doing in Australia, and I tell him I’m there for business. He asks what kind of business and I get flustered and come up with a story about being a travel writer. He frowns and remarks that he’s never known a travel writer to be the type with a side holster.

I’m shocked but he tells me he noticed it under my jacket back at the concert and just thought I was an off duty cop. But here I am in Australia saying I’m a travel writer and “what do you really do?”

I tell him I can’t say, not there. He invites me back to his house for a chat. For some reason, I go.

At his house (where his IRL wife and kids are completely missing from the dream) I confess that I work for the US Government and that I was sent to Australia on a mission. He oddly doesn’t judge me as I tell him this, instead asking me if I’m happy with my life. The question catches me so off guard that I break down, telling him that I never set out to be a spy, and that all I’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

He smiles and tells me I should get out if I’m not happy.

And then he kisses me.

Things get romantic for a bit (that part is kind of a blur) but he agrees to come with me to the US to support me in my attempts to get free from the CIA.

Back in the US, I tell my boss that I don’t want to be an agent anymore. I’m tired of killing people and I just want out. He tells me that it’s for the best, I’ve gotten too hot anyway, but that he needs me to do one last job.

There is a secret meeting that’s going to occur at Disneyland later that week. A big gathering of foreign agents and spies is going to be gathering in one of the backstage areas. The park officials have agreed to the meeting as a way to facilitate the government’s plot to get rid of these people. I’m to go in and shoot everyone at the meeting and escape the park unseen.

It sucks, but I agree, heading to California with Tim and setting him up in a hotel.

When I get to the park, I head to a room in Cinderella’s castle where there are weapons stashed for me. I get them, hide them in a bag, and head to the meeting place.

When I get to the meeting place, I disguise myself and force my way in. I get to work, mowing everyone down while dodging bullets. When the smoke clears, they’re all dead... except for one woman. She’s wearing a white sundress and it noticeably pregnant.

And I’d managed to shoot her in the stomach.

I’m horrified and stammer that if she hadn’t been a spy, it wouldn’t have happened. She chokes out that she isn’t a spy and that the meeting was a dinner in honor of her engagement. I tell her that her fiancé must have been a spy then and she tells me that her husband (now dead beside her) was an accountant.

I freak out, rushing from the building and leaving the park. When I get to the car, I tell my boss what happened. They tell me that there is a chance that there were innocent people at the dinner but that “some collateral damage is to be expected with these things.” I don’t tell them that I didn’t finish the woman in white off, instead telling them that I am officially done and that whatever they want to do with me they can. I don’t care. I’m just done.

I head back to the hotel where I meet up with Tim in a secluded area. I break down crying and he hugs me. I tell him what I told my bosses, and he takes the pistol from inside my jacket and tells me that I won’t be needing it anymore. I smile and agree and tell him that a long, permanent vacation to Australia sounds wonderful.

He smiles back and takes my hand.

Suddenly, I hear someone shout behind us.

“FREEZE!”

I instinctively go into action mode... only for three gunshots to ring out.

It was a cop, having been in the hotel for some reason. She saw Tim holding the gun and shot him.

When I see him lying on the floor bleeding, I realize that there’s nothing I can do. I hold out my hands allowing myself to be arrested. I’m taken away as the medics arrive to try and fix Tim.

Of course the CIA gets me out of prison. It would look really bad for them if I had to explain what I was doing with an unregistered gun in the hotel. I’m put into the witness protection program and a cover story is circulated about how Tim was shot by the cops in a case of mistaken identity.

It’s three days later when, from my new home in whoknowswhere, I am called by my former boss. He wanted to tell me that the woman in white died 40 minutes ago. I hang up on him.

I turn on the news. There’s a story running about Tim.

It says...

“And we have just received word that the officer responsible for the shooting will face no charges for the incident where Australian comedian and pianist Tim Minchin was fatally shot, having died in the hospital just 19 minutes ago this afternoon.”

I turn off the TV.

THE END

(I literally woke up here because the dream was over)

[rogueassassinspy]

Chapter 17: Valentine's Day

The worst day of the year...Valentine's Day. You can smell the aroma of horny teenagers lingering in the air. Thankfully pretty much all of the students except for a few were heading to Hogsmeade to celebrate. I was one of the few staying back at the castle. I've never been a fan of this holiday. Even when I had been in relationships I still didn't care for it. Lunch had just ended and everyone was heading back to their rooms to get ready for their dates. I step off to the side and make my way to the courtyard past the large tree in the center. "Vodror." I hear from behind me and turn around to see Draco walking this way. "Need something, Draco?" I ask impatiently. "Where are you going in such a hurry? Not like you have a date anyways." He sneers. "No, I don't. Let me guess, you already got one? Another girl from Beauxbatons?" Draco scoffs at me as I continue. "And not that its's any of your business but I'm going to see if I can't find a place to take a bath. I'm sick of showers and I want to relax while no one is in the building." I say. "The only bath is in the prefects bathroom fifth floor, password is Pine-Fresh. Now, I need to get ready for my date." He smiles as he walks past shouldering me. I turn back making a face at him behind his back as I rub my shoulder. I can't be mad though, I have a bath to look forward to. After everyone has left for the day I gather my essentials to head downstairs. Today is going to be a day solely focused on myself and relaxation. I grab my towels, sweatpants, and sweater, and head to the fifth floor of the castle. As I make my way towards the door I start to second guess the password Draco gave me. Knowing my luck he gave me a fake one just to get me into trouble. I approach the door and give the password, "Pine-fresh". The door swings open and the smell of soap fills my nose. The room is massive, lowly lit with a candle filled chandelier. Everything is white marble from the floors to the bath itself. The bath is the size of a swimming pool and filled to the brim with bubbles. I can see a small amount of steam rising off the top of the water. There are tons of taps along the edge of the bath all flowing with different colors of water into the tub. White curtains hang along the windows and there is a gold framed portrait of a blonde mermaid overlooking the bath.

I set my towels on the ledge and begin to undress. The floor under my bare feet is cool. I fold my clothes and set them off to the side and tie my hair up into a bun on top of my head. Slowly I ease my way into the bath one foot at a time. The water is the perfect temperature. It's warm but not too hot. I sink further into the water until it comes up to my chin and lean back on the bench that lines the inside of the bath along the wall. I close my eyes and let myself relax, breathing out a satisfied breath. It's quiet, the only sound in the room is coming from the water falling from the faucets. I'm going to have to do this more often. "Enjoying yourself there, Vodror?" I hear from behind me. Sinking deeper into the water to cover myself I whip around to see Draco leaning against one of the pillars next to the bath. I sit up a little so the water is hovering just above my chest. Thankfully there are so many bubbles I don't have to worry about anything being seen. "Jesus, Draco. How long have you been standing there?" I say as I turn back around and try to get comfortable again closing my eyes. "And yes I am enjoying myself." I open one eye to look over at him. "Weren't you supposed to be on a date?" I ask. He pushes himself off the pillar and makes his way over to the edge of the bath taking a seat on the ledge to my right. "I was bored so I left." He says sticking a hand in the water playing with the bubbles absentmindedly. I turn around and place my arms on the ledge next to his legs and rest my chin on my arms. "You know, if you ever intend on actually dating someone you probably shouldn't just up and leave in the middle of a date. Especially on Valentine's Day." I say. "Shut up, Vodror." He says looking back up at me. I watch him quickly glance down to where the top of my chest is barely out of the water and he looks away back to the bubbles he was messing with. My breath catches.

"Well, since you've ruined my me time I guess I'll get out now. You need to leave so I can get dressed. Or at least turn around." I say as I motion for him to go. He smiles tauntingly, walks away from the bath, and turns his back to me. I grab my towel and carefully place it around me as I step out of the tub making sure that if he does turn around he can't see anything. "Would you hurry up? You're taking forever." He says. "Excuse me? I don't remember having anything planned today except for relaxing by myself. You've already ruined my bath." I grab my sweatpants and slide them on trying to balance myself, put on my pants, and hold my towel up all at the same time. As I go to put my right leg through I see Draco's head move slightly out of the corner of my eye. "HEY! Eyes forward dude. I can see you." He turns his head back around and chuckles as I finish getting dressed and let my hair down drying it off with a towel. "You're good." I say as I turn to grab my things and he walks back towards me. "It's about time." He says and makes his way towards the door. I stay in my spot watching him questioningly. "Bloody hell, Vodror. Let's go!" He says and I follow him out the door. "Draco, I don't know what you've got going on here but I don't want to deal with this shit right now. I just want to go back to my room and relax." He ignores my complaining and we continue downstairs to the dungeons. I follow him into the Slytherin common room and up the stairs to his bedroom. "What the hell is going on, Draco?" I say as I plop down on his bed watching him move about the room completely ignoring me. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He says and walks out of the room. "What-wait, no!" I say but he is already gone. A few minutes pass and the sound of the water above me is making my eyes heavy. It's almost eight and I know everyone should be close to be getting back. I need to get back to my room but I'm tired and I'm not going to lie, this bed is so much more comfortable than mine. I lay back on the pillow and close my eyes for a minute.

I feel movement beside of me on the bed and my eyes quickly open. Shit. Did I fall asleep? Shit. It's dark but I can see a small light coming from behind me. I realize the curtains around the bed have been closed. I look down to see I've also been covered by a blanket. I feel movement beside of me again and jolt upright in the bed looking to my left to see Draco sitting with his wand out reading a book. He quickly looks over startled to see me awake. "Stay quiet, Vodror." He whispers. "What the hell!? You just let me fall asleep here?! I have to get back to my room!" I whisper angrily at him. "If you leave now you'll get us both in trouble so just shut it and go back to sleep." Damnit, I hate when he is right. If I were to get caught leaving his room right now I'd be in so much trouble. It's not worth it. I lay back down but this time facing him. "What are you reading?" I ask. "None of your business. Go back to sleep." He shushes me. I roll my eyes and turn back over listening to the crash of the waves as it lulls me back to sleep.

Chapter 18          Masterlist

[riding-alpacas]

Buenos Aires

The first stop of my trip is done and it was a promising start. Vancouver waved goodbye as only Vancouver can: With grey skies and plenty of rain. But a bit more than 24 hours and two stopovers later Argentina welcomed me with bright sunshine on a hot afternoon. Oh how much I missed this. The remainder of my first day turned out to be pretty lousy but in hindsight I blame my extreme fatigue for that (I didn't catch any sleep during the flight).

First thing I wanted to do after I checked in to my hostel was to get some cash and buy some food. The first two ATMs I tried didn't give me any money though. Everything on the screen was in Spanish, so I didn't really understand what the error message was saying. No problem I thought, then I'll pay for my food with my credit card. The first supermarket I went to didn't accept my Visa though and I had to leave confused, hungry and still empty-handed. Fortunately I managed to find one that did - but the process was quite laborious: They had to see my passport and didn't have these fancy electronic machines to transact the payment. I had to sign a receipt instead. This wasn't a surprise to me, I've read about this procedure before. But going through it for the first time when you're basically just buying some bread and butter just changes your perception. I was tired, I was overwhelmed, I just went to bed and hoped things would get better. Luckily they did.

There weren't many people in the hostel, but I managed to find a guy who explained the money situation in Argentina a little bit to me. Skip a few paragraphs if you don't wanna know. First of all, in Argentina cash is king (am I back in Germany?). Also the country is suffering from inflation - a lot. As a result, locals try to save their money in US dollars. All this shemozzle means that a few things are happening:

ATMs regularly run out of money during the day

You can't withdraw more than 4,000 pesos in one transaction (currently equals AUD 100 or 60 EUR)

You can't withdraw more than 8,000 pesos in one day

You are being charged between 300 and 600 pesos for every withdrawal (thankfully my Australian bank rebates these fees)

The government is making it hard for locals to exchange money and there are a lot of limitations in place

On top of that out of the two ATM networks here, one simply won't give me any cash. Ever. I tried many times. So far with the other ATM network my success rate was 50-50. I also found out that quite a few places actually accept credit card payments. You simply need to know where to go. My strategy now is to do little payments in cash and larger payments with credit card and I generally try to stay away from Argentine pesos as much as possible. You feel SO much better once you understand this stuff and can put a strategy in place.

Let's get back to Buenos Aires - the Paris of South America. This is actually true, a lot of buildings look very European and the majority of them look very French to me. The reason for that is quite funny, too: During it's best time (Argentina was the third richest country once), people wanted to differentiate themselves from all the other cities in South America. The rich travelled to Europe on a regular basis and when they came back, they tore down their buildings and decided to replicate all sorts of things they saw in Italy or France.

Teatro Colón

Well, rich humans just do super weird things when they are bored and it's quite apparent here when you dive a little into the history of this city. The most spectacular story I came across was the one about the church Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento. First of all only European material was used to build it. 100%. Every doorknob came all the way across the ocean. Then there is the motivation behind it: Mercedes Castellanos de Anchorena really, really wanted to be noble - nobody in Argentina was noble at that time. So she decided to build this church just across the road from where she was living in a decadent palace. She gave it to the church and ding - the Pope granted her a noble title. But the crazy story doesn't stop there. There was another rich woman called Corina Kavanagh who was the lover of one of Mercedes' brothers. Apparently Mercedes prevented them from getting married. Corina wasn't happy about that and she knew that Mercedes loved to see that church of hers from her balcony. So Corina went and bought the land right in front of the church, decided to put a high apartment building on it and block the view for Mercedes. At that time, this building was also the highest building in South America and became quite an iconic landmark for Buenos Aires. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

A church that makes you noble

I spent three days in total in the capital and it turned out to be the right amount of time. The city is quite big, very modern and I walked most of the time. First I explored San Telmo which is the oldest part of Buenos Aires. Lots of cafes and antique shops can be found on these old cobblestone streets. I also found some nice street art and the narrowest home - not wider than two doors basically. And it’s called La Casa Mínima. Spanish can be quite amusing.

Tiny house - not a new phenomenon

I continued strolling along Plaza de Mayo which is THE city square. On one end you find a big pink building which one might know from a speech held by a person called Madonna Evita.

Casa Rosada

For the rest of the day I decided to walk along a famous shopping street in the quest for one my most important purchase of the whole trip: A new pair of Havaianas. After finding them, I finished the afternoon with my first dulce de leche ice cream. Spoiler: There will be an extra paragraph about the food.

On day two I was mainly exploring Recoleta. This is where the posh people live and it was by far the cleanest area in Buenos Aires. It's also where I picked up the stories above. I learned a lot about the Falklands war, too and it made me hate Margaret Thatcher even more. The whole thing is still an important topic for Argentinians and during elections candidates are still being asked what their position is in regards to the Islas Malvinas. That whole conflict and how it came about left a huge scar in the nation's heart and it's still far from being processed.

I finished the day checking out the famous Recoleta cemetery. It was cruel and impressive at the same time. I'm always amazed when I go to cemeteries outside of Germany, they are usually so different. I think the correct term to use is "monumental cemetery", whilst in Germany "lawn cemeteries" are more common. Similar to what I've seen in Paris and London this cemetery is structured like a little town with street names and stuff. There are impressive monuments everywhere, some in really good shape, others sadly falling apart. Of course I had to go to Evita's grave which is actually quite easy to find - don't let tour operators fool you. Yes, there are cemetery tours up to 2 hours long. Now to the cruel part: I did a little research into how the remains of Evita and the national hero José de San Martín (there are statues of him everywhere) were treated and boy oh boy, humans can be so shitty to each other. Even when they're already dead. Both of them were basically constantly moved around, buried upside down, their coffins put in an angle... and all because they believed in things or did things in their life that other people didn't approve of.

I see dead people

On my last day I went North and explored the neighbourhood of Palermo. Apart from the usual stuff (shopping, restaurants, cafes...) there were also two museum in this area that sounded interesting: The Evita museum and a place called MALBA. The Evita museum obviously gives you a deep insight into Eva Peron's life. Very informative and nicely done. MALBA is an art museum in a pretty cool building. One of the exhibitions was quite interactive and fun.

MALBA

One of the things I missed the most on all three days was water! I have no idea how the citizens of Buenos Aires survive these hot summers without access to a natural body of water. There were some little pools that were totally crowded and even though it looks like the city would be by the sea, it's actually at the mouth of River Plate which is definitely not feasible for swimming as it is super silty.

One of the last things I have to write about is the food. I was looking forward to try the Argentine cuisine and so far I haven't been disappointed at all. In fact, if I continue eating like I did in the last few days I will very soon look like the guy in the illustration. This is the stuff I've tried so far:

Steak My favourite cut so far is called bife de chorizo. They sometimes put egg on it which makes we wonder if the dish then qualifies as breakfast.

Yum!

Pizza The difference to Italian pizza is that Argentinians like to put loads and loads of cheese and olives on their pizza. As a person who usually puts extra cheese on their frozen pizza, I surely won't complain about this.

Empanada Should be renamed to "pockets of gold". Small, fried dough pockets stuffed  with... well... meat! Prepare me a bath of Empanadas and I will swim in it the whole day.

Helado Argentinian ice cream. Coming from a country where I was struggling to find really good ice cream, pretty much every ice cream I had in Buenos Aires so far was a gazillion times better.

Also yum!

Alfajores A type of biscuit: Dulce de leche sandwiched between two crumbly cookies. Not my favourite but still a lot better than bloody Oreos.

Medialunas Like a croissant but a bit smaller and denser. I think I prefer them over croissants because they are less messy.

Mate (the tea) I'm not entirely sure yet what I should think about this drink. It will surely get a separate blog post at some point as it it closely linked to a whole social event with a mate etiquette etc. Stay tuned!

Short version: I think I'm in food heaven and it will be hard to continue with my one or two veggie days a week strategy. There is still a lot more to try and I can't wait to participate in my first Asado.

Tango tango

All in all I would say that I enjoyed my time in Buenos Aires. I felt pretty safe, the weather was great and the food was to die for. It would have been nice to have a few more people in the hostel (on my last day we were down to three) but this will probably change now that I'm on my way to Patagonia where it's peak season. I'll be in cold Ushuaia for a week or so before gradually going up North again.

[acrownofblueroses]

Klance Fic Recs, AU Settings I

Okay so I might end up making multiple parts for AU settings. This one contains mostly occupational/hobby/setting AU stuff. So unless an AU fic prominently featured a certain element, it’ll go on another list. So there are some College AUs, 2 Soulmate AUs, and maybe a few others. 

SPORTS

Olympians house on fire by ilgaksu When Lance McClain is eighteen, he qualifies for the Olympics.

When he's nineteen, he meets Keith.

Correlation does not mean cause, until it totally does.

your love is bright as ever by aknightley (gymnast!Keith, swimmer!Lance) A brief interlude in the future of the Olympic AU, Christmas with Keith and Lance and their cats.

"This always looks easier in those made for television movies," Keith tells Blue, who rolls over and out of his lap, chasing her own bits of tinsel.

In It To Win It by Lucy_Claire One of two things was happening right now, either Lance was having a heart attack on of the biggest day of his life, or he had just laid eyes on his Soulmate. _______

Competitive swimmer Lance McClain feels his Timer counting down right when he's about to jump in the water and finish up his race. He's faced with two choices in this moment: Continue the race and miss meeting his Soulmate at their fateful time or abandon his life's work for someone he never met.Lance makes his choice and has to suffer the consequence of never getting back what he missed out on. Or does he?

Swimmers Ocean Eyes by spacezuko Lance himself doesn't even believe in his own abilities. He is drowning in his own pool of desire to be everything that he claims he is. Everything that he wants to be. Keith wonders if he’s broken Lance because he doesn't say a word, his eyes filled with something opaque that Keith can't quite pinpoint the meaning of. Lance’s eyes are a deep blue. Not the typical morning sky blue, but the kind of ocean blue one wants to drown in.

With legs like these by Queerswimming In which Lance finds out that there's a pool in the castle and challenges Keith to a race.

Lance did NOT think this through. Because not a single thing in this universe could’ve prepare him for the sight of Keith in nothing but a red pair of swimming trunks.

Keith has one arm bend behind his head and stretches it with the other. His back arches beautifully, presenting Lance a perfect view of his well-defined torso. At least the last thing Lance sees right before he dies are those ripped abs.

Football Mistakes were made by Lynn1998 Lance can't stand the captain of the football team…so why is he having sex with him? Part 1 of skinny band nerd takes it up the ass from the beefcake football captain series

Ice Skating/Hockey On Thin Ice (WIP) by Minadora Once upon a time, two Canadian nerds decided to start a figure skating au about their two space sons and their wonderful misfit friends. Ten pages of headcanons later we finally put electronic pen to electronic paper and created this monstrosity.

This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.Enjoy the ride because it's only just started.

Kiss My Ice (WIP) by delictor Lance hasn't skated in a year since the accident that cost him the Olympics. Keith can't skate for shit but that doesn't stop him from catching Lance's attention, even when he can't so much as stand up after falling on the ice.

'When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.'

“Soon as we're off this ice you're dead.” Keith's threat is an empty one and he knows Lance can tell by the way he laughs at it. “Serious question though, do you not know who I am?” Lance questions. “Should I?” “No, I guess not.” Lance shrugs. “I'm gonna twirl you, okay?” “No, no don't—wait!” Keith cries out as he's suddenly viewing the entire arena and his legs go rigid before colliding into Lance's chest, his chest rising and falling with laughter, hands gripping Keith's upper arms gently. “Put me back on land.” “Technically, we are on land.” “We're on frozen water, get me off it.”

Quidditch (Non Hogwarts AU) The Marks We Make (WIP) by wittyy_name Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

Surfers (mostly surfer!Lance) Should I Stand Up on Fear (And Tell You How I Feel?) by Lulatic “So, it’s really a good thing that Lance got distracted before he dragged you out there with him,” Hunk chuckled. “I guess flirting became more important than your guys’ rivalry.’

Keith blushed again, looking away with a huff. “Yeah, whatever. He’ll probably be distracted long enough that I can go back to the Castle before he decides I need some surfing lessons.”

Pidge laughed, that kind of cheeky giggle that made Keith and Hunk look over at them with wide eyes. Pidge raised a single eyebrow at Keith, grinning mischievously. “Oh, but you won’t be going back to the Castle any time soon, now will you? Not when Lance is out there, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.”

Pride Tide by lemoninagin He’d stared up, watched the differing patches of sunlight play the most stunning array of colored patterns across Keith’s pale face as he grinned mischievously over him. Time slowed, his own breathing became laboured and caught in his throat.

“You can teach me, right?” Keith had asked in a shyer voice than usual, brushing the tangled mess of his windswept hair away from his eyes and cocking his head towards the boards.

Save his smile by Queerswimming Keith wants to protect Lance's smile and finds his answer at the beach. Starring an awkward Keith, Surfer Lance and Hunk playing a giant ice berg.

Lance caresses the wood gently. His eyes turn soft as he speaks. “My big brother taught me how to build a board.” He laughs softly. “I always messed it up though. I wasn't patient enough to do it right." He taps on the wood and looks at Keith with a sad smile that knocks the breath out of Keith lungs.

“Who would have thought that I would build a surf board in space though.”

He laughs at that but Keith can tell that Lance is faking it. He always can.

Roller Derby Like Devo by surveycorpsjean As rival jammers, they're rough, skating around the rink, giving bruises, bloody noses, broken ribs and snapped fingers-

But when the cops show up, Keith grabs his hand and yanks Lance into the storm drain.

And thats how they start dating.

Streetracing Purple Lamborghini by warschach “I need you to focus on this race. No more hate flirting with Keith as much as I enjoy it. I like winning more.”

He scoffed, “I don’t flirt.”

“Then stop saying you’re going to teach him how to ride.”

“I was talking about driving. Duh,” Lance countered with an attitude mastered purely by Valley girls and entitled customers.

“Yea, Lance it doesn’t come off like that at all. It sounds like you’re gonna fuck him.”

“I’m not.”

ARTISTS (also including Musicians and Modeling)

Photographer Pretty Boy by MilkTeaMiku (photographer!Keith) A pretty Spanish boy shoves a bouquet of flowers under his nose and tells him to stop and smell the roses, so Keith does.

Roommates by manamune (photographer!Lance, artist!Keith) (13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!

(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.

Sight for Sore Eyes by writewild Photographer!Lance's deadline for the magazine he works on the side for is coming up really soon, and has to search last-minute photo opportunities soon. One boy catches his eye.

Riptide by songsofthespring (photographer!keith, surfer!Lance) Keith fumbles with the camera around his neck and lines up a shot. The boy coasting down a wave, one hand kissing the water. Keith zooms in as far as his lens will allow him. Droplets frame the boy’s brown skin and cling to his hair and chest. His eyes, little pinpricks of light from this distance, are nevertheless still recognizably as bright as the ocean itself. It looks like he could be dancing when he rides a wave; every part of his lanky frame seems to merge with the board and the ocean beneath him.

He’s beautiful.

Foreign Scenes  by bwyn Lance has been dreaming of travelling since the first time he heard stories from his family as a child. Now, having finally the time and money to do it, he goes on a trip to Europe to see some of the most culturally rich cities on the continent. Except he keeps bumping into the same guy over and over again, in random cities, doing stupid shit, and ultimately dragging Lance into his trouble, too.

Basically an AU in which Lance and Keith become impromptu travel buddies and get into trouble.

Artist 7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (artist!Keith, ballerina!Lance)

Keith is an art student who mostly keeps to himself, taking note of the beauty in life but keeping his distance from it. This includes the beautiful dancer he sees across the street from his apartment...until a week-long art project pushes him to change that.

(For Klance Secret Santa 2016)

And Now You’re Mine (WIP) by Samyx914 (some artist!Keith) “No, really. I’ve been thinking about that movie since I got up and that’s the only copy they have and I want it.”

“But, I was faster.”

“But, I want to watch it.” The stranger laughs.

“Well, you could always come home with me to watch it.” He says with a wink.

“Okay.” The stranger’s eyes widen. What the fuck, Keith? No. You don’t go home with strangers… Anymore. 

In which Keith wants to watch a movie, so he goes to find it at Walmart. When there's only one copy left and someone else picks it up first, his only option is to go home with a stranger. Keith didn't count on this stranger being so easy to fall for.

Visions by becca2793 "It’s funny, because as a tattoo artist he makes art that lasts pretty much forever – as far as the person who has it is concerned – but a street artist…their art lasts maybe a couple of days."

Keith comes in for a tattoo; Lance immediately falls in love. With his art. His love for Keith comes later.

Take the Easel Way Out by svensationalist Oh no, he’s hot, Lance thinks while he’s dying.

(Pidge elbows Lance sharply a little while later. “You’re not dying, dumbass,” they whisper. “Pay attention, the pose started.”)

***

Written for klanceweek day 1, “Red/Blue”. Art class AU where Lance can’t focus because one of the new life drawing models is too attractive.

Cute as Fcuk by anonymouschupacabra Even though he had never seen the hot guy before in the year that he'd been going to college, it was like the dam had broken, because Lance saw him everywhere. From the sculpture rooms, to the library, to the cafeteria, the guy was everywhere Lance was, and it only made it that much harder to ignore the hot buzzing he felt inside every time he saw him.

Dancers 7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (ballerina!Lance) see above ^

i bet you look good on the dance floor by xShieru "So like in 'Step Up'?" Allura shrugs. "Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it's just like in 'Step Up'." The smile that she sends Shiro's way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn't believe in dance camps

.-

Lance McClain's dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Keith just wants to find out what Lance's deal is.

you raise me up by rhapsodyinpink “What, you don’t think I look like Patrick Swayze?”

Keith snickers. “Absolutely not. You are Jennifer Grey in this situation.”

“That’s a fair point. Nobody puts me in a corner,” replies Lance, nodding seriously, before his expression turns mischievous.

“So then...are you saying you want to call me Baby?”

Keith flushes red, but stands his ground as he leans in closer. “Are you saying you want me to?”

Shut Up and Dance With Me (WIP) by wittyy_name Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.

Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.

With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.

Musicians That Would Be Alright by icedsonder And call it spur of the moment, his exacerbated pining over past few months, or even his own alcohol impaired judgment, but Keith let his inhibitions take a backseat as he took a step forward and pressed his forehead against Lance’s to sing his next lines.

"I know I'll fall in love with you, baby"

Musically Insane by myparadisepalace It had only taken Lance three days after becoming the blue paladin to realize there were no instruments in the castle. And even if there were, Lance figured they’d be too obscure and strange for him to be able to play.

PROFESSIONS (i.e. cops, doctors, EMTs, waiters)

Soldiers/Assassins/Spies Counting in Code by DLanaDHZ There was no one better in the field. The Voltron Force was efficient and deadly, and they took no new recruits. They were hand-picked, and though they didn't always get along, they were family. Under the stress of a mission, the team counted each other as a way to calm down and focus. But Keith couldn't count, because counting meant he knew where everyone was, and right now all he had was a pair of bloody dog tags in place of his partner.

blink if you want me by xShieru He wakes up to Pidge’s face hovering above him. “You gotta stop running into him like this.” “Dude, he fucking shot me.” “I know. We saw.”

-

A hitmen AU wherein two thirsty assholes fall for each other and then jeopardize their respective missions because of it.

Retail/Food (waiters/cashiers/clerks) Melt With You by dumpsterdiva If you ask Keith what summer means to him, he’ll say shitty weather, a bag of quarters, sticky blue raspberry kisses, and not-quite-midnight sandwiches.

Summer job AU at the pier feat. Keith as a shaved ice slave and Lance as an aquarium camp counselor.

You Dropped a Bomb by quartetship Lance loved his job.

OR: The Klance LUSH au

Tollbooth Operator Drive Me Crazy by battleshidge Keith stared blankly at the tollbooth operator for a moment before trying to stifle a groan. Somehow, he always managed to get the booth with the flirtatious attendant, a lanky brown-haired man with clear blue eyes and a confident grin. It didn’t matter that he changed what lane he went through—at least three times a week on his way home from work, Keith was forced to suffer through the horrendous flirts that this man tossed his way.

Taxi Driver Finish What You Started by battleshidge “You were right,” Keith breathed, looking up at Lance with a fire in his eyes. “I did start this,” he lifted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s jaw. And another. And another. Lance thought it was torture—sweet, sweet torture. And then that challenge sparked in Keith’s eyes again as he asked, tone low and resonant, “Are you going to finish it?”

Pizza Delivery You Stole a Pizza My Heart by KaSaPe Keith just wanted a pizza. The cute delivery boy with the weird grin and stupid flirting (?) had other plans.

Or: Keith just doesn't get Lance's flirting. At all.

Lifeguards six foot dive (WIP) by shizuoh "I'm bisexual," Lance says.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. "Good... for you?"

"I'd like to buy you a drink," he starts, and grins, "and then get sexual."

Keith shoves him into the water.

(or: lance and his family go to california for a two-month vacation. cue hot lifeguard keith gyeong-kogane.)

Lessons by amycoolz and SylviaW1991 Keith has been nothing but a thorn in Lance's side since the mullet-haired ass first walked into the classroom. But when he decides to get himself shoved into the deep end and, wow, can't even swim, Lance has to save his pretty self and then Pidge volunteers him to teach Keith how to swim. Great. Just great.

Nurse Racing Heartbeats and Hospital Bedsheets by screwtodayimsleeping (nurse!Keith) Me: Hunk Me: Buddy Me: emergency!!!! HunkyBae: what’s up, lance? Are they not letting you out of the hospital yet? Me: HUNK Me: the male nurse that took my blood was probably the sexiest person i’ve ever seen Me: and im literally wearing two sheets as an outfit

BUSINESSES (e.g. Coffeeshop, flower shop, animal shelter)

Office eyes wide to you with wonder by aknightley Keith doesn't dislike his job, but he definitely dislikes Lance. Probably. Maybe.

"Coran thinks you'll bang at the Christmas party but I think that's giving you guys way too much credit," Pidge says thoughtfully. "Hunk is a romantic. He thinks Lance is gonna ask you out any day now. I think he's got a week or so before he owes me like a hundred bucks."

"Pidge, what the fuck?" Keith says, flustered. He nudges them again with his foot, this time slightly harder. They scowl at him, swatting him away. "Why would you bet on me and Lance?" Part 1 of Office AU

Flower Shop i’ll gift you the stars by Kyoshu_Koi Flowers and stars. At least they were giving him things he liked.

Cactus by PinkHitman When Keith moves from the desert in the middle of ass backwards nowhere, to plop in the middle of the big city, he doesn't expect to instantly grow fond of the tall, endearing, jerk across the street. But it's hard not to see roses when said person works in a flower shop.

Arcade got game by warschach Lance hates his job until the one day he doesn't.

Bakery you’re so sweet; will you be mine?  by jojotext A new bakery pops up right across the street from Lance's bakery. . . . In which Lance is an idiot, Keith is an asshole, and Pidge is the next Dr. Phil.

Coffeeshop nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts and thebrotherswinchester Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

SOCIAL MEDIA (Tumblr AU, bloggers, Youtubers, gamers)

Youtubers you had me at merlot by DJAlien “Oh my God,” Lance says as he covers his face. Keith’s tinny voice blares from his laptop speakers: “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.” See, this joke might have been funny if someone charismatic and charming had said it, but Keith’s flat voice and even flatter expression effectively kidnaps, tortures, and then decapitates any chance of it being remotely humorous.

--

Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you'd expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture)

The Boyfriend Tag by theoddpacolypse Keith and Lance are famous YouTubers, along with the rest of their friends, and though they consider each other "rivals" in some ways, they are actually incredibly close. So close that they are actually dating in secret and constantly dropping hints to their fans, whom desperately want them together. Part 1 of What Happens on Youtube series

Gamers Next Level (WIP) by battleshidge “Dammit, Blue, don’t die on us yet! We only just started!”

Red’s voice snapped in his ears, and Lance cursed under his breath. He tried to backpedal quickly, but being flat on his back with the enemy looming above made for certain movement limitations. On top of that, he was already injured, and he could see the red patch spreading across his thigh. He could really use some of Hunk’s portable healing pods, that was for sure. And that, Lance observed, was a very nasty looking knife that was about to plunge straight through his chest.

Well, shit.

Effect: +100% Love, -100% Logic (WIP) by manamune In the real world, Lance is barely making it by in his senior year. He's failing most of his classes and is only one more fuck up away from being kicked off the swim team.

In the virtual reality game Voltron, Lance lives an entirely different life as the internationally-known Blue, an archer with impeccable aim. He's filthy rich, has a trillion friends, and is a part of the most feared guild in the game.There's just one problem: he's madly in love one of his guildmates, Red.

Things begin to go downhill when a kid who acts suspiciously similar to Red transfers to Lance's school.

Bloggers a recipe for two by battleshidge He wondered, briefly, what the look on Lance’s face would be if he actually did say yes.

It’s Mutual (Follow Back Already) by JessicaMDawn At twenty-four, Keith decides to figure out what this 'tumblr' thing is. It's confusing at first, but Keith learns to have fun with it with help from a few new friends. AKA Keith's adventures on tumblr.