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eekitseve · 2 months

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Chapter one of my charpim fanfic below the cut :) just in time for Christmas in July! will upload to ao3 in a few days once I get my account

Charlie was definitely more of a New Year’s guy.

The “new year, new me” leaves a length of time between Christmas and the beginning of the following year to act out, to be someone else, and to do stupid shit. It’s right between needing to be good for Santa and having the slate cleaned for the new year.

New Year’s Eve was a blast for Charlie (almost) every time. Charlie, for one thing, knew how to have a good time. He knew enough people who hosted annual parties. He knew enough people who knew how to get into the big ones, the exclusive ones, the absolutely nuts ones. He never had to worry about New Year’s Eve plans— it was a reliable holiday where he could lose his shit and be forgiven the next morning by the world. Alongside Saint Patty’s day, he could get black out drunk and not be seen as a loser for a day. He could be a blunt, wreckless version of himself that night and have no repercussions from it save for a monumental hangover the following day.

Of course, none of this logic was true. You get false confidence to send a few stupid texts, fight a few people, maybe kiss a stranger or two-- but once the night’s over, you’re the same person who did all those things. It was you the whole time, and it never changed. You might say you’ll be better the next day (or next year), but it being a new year doesn’t change you. Once that year long timer comes back to the last few hours, you do it all again.

Pim was more favorable of Christmas.

Instead of living in the moment, he thought of his future. He reminisced on his past to what might be an unhealthy amount. He was a Romantic; he felt nostalgic for a time he remembers differently than how it happened, and he daydreams for a life he will likely only partially succeed in achieving. His goals are always slightly askew; trying to relive a past that didn’t actually happen a certain way, or trying to work towards something that he’s only seen in several tacky romance movies.

That might be why he likes Christmas so much; every Christmas was recorded on awful home video VHS’s, and sure, there would be arguing, but he’d be right there on camera, smiling and enjoying Christmas like he should. He would watch them sometimes when he came home. Who cared if his dad was cursing out his mom in the back of the video? He’d just skip those parts and reminisce on how cool he thought the nerf gun set he got that year was. He’d skip past the part where he shot his older brother in the eye and they started brawling on the floor. He’d skip past the parts on the tape where it was him in highschool, despondent, confused, and scared with the added touch of his new baby sister screaming the whole tape. He would usually go until he hit the Christmas before he moved out. He always stopped the fast forward when he recognized the scene-- blue tinsel on the tree, their old house in Adelaide, Australia, and probably the last time he was as close with his family as he was. For a while after that, the tapes weren’t as charming. First off, he wouldn’t be there until a few years later when his family moved to the US. Not to mention, he could remember the rest of them vaguely.

Maybe Pim and Charlie’s preferred holidays showed some deep facet of their personalities, maybe not.

Regardless of what holiday they liked better for whatever unspoken reason, both critters were excited to leave the office once their clocks struck 5. They didn’t have a timeclock, no, but Mr. Boss remained on company grounds until the shift officially ended; he was dedicated, and he ensured his workers were, too. This meant skipping out early was unlikely. Very unlikely.

Especially on the last shift right before their holiday vacation started.

Of course, the concept of holiday vacation was something new. Since a certain OSHA non-compliant fatal workplace incident two years ago, Mister Boss began rolling the ball on mandatory holiday PTO. He made an effort to prioritize the health of his workers over a few smiles made during the holidays. Charlie wasn’t gonna deny free PTO, but he did question the logistics of having no one working during the roughest time of the year. He was reassured that they as workers were to be prioritized; if the people making others smile are dead, then how can people smile? It seemed like kind of a half-baked response for the trouble he’d have had to go through to support such a decision, but again, Charlie didn’t want to argue against free PTO.

Allan, Glep, Pim and Charlie all are relaxing in the breakroom now. The hum of the lights are louder and it seems like even the heater is ready for a vacation as it runs colder than it has the past month. Charlie and Pim only had two clients today; one old man who wanted to visit the moon before he died (he was on his deathbed and they staged a quirky performance dressed as aliens to convince him he was there, which only worked because he was high out of his mind on various medications-- he died immediately afterwards), and a super rich guy that needed help picking out a gift for his family that would make them smile and, by association, him too. They went through a classic montage styled time of trying out different gifts, but ultimately giving them each 3.8 million dollars in cheque worked. He gave Charlie and Pim each a lonesome penny to fund their Christmas’s. Pim was endeared. Charlie was not.

They got back with an hour to spare and have hung out since.

Allan squeaks the break room sink faucet on and off a few times. He grumbles.

“The hot wat-err is off againn.” He begins futilely washing his used coffee mug with cold water and a firm sponge.

“Awww, what?! I thought we just got that fixed!” Pim whines.

Glep tunes in and adds context— “aekajjsxhcah ptotuckcakc jvvjwalc cakscjs wjejrw cjcjde totij fusj xockd fjfjs.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Pim responds, surrendering his frustration.

“Yea-hh. I guess Mister Boss is already on it.” Allan replies and continues washing the dish; Pim watches inattentively.

Glep is on his iPad doing important work. “Scouting for frowning faces online” was his excuse on his last self evaluation once it was brought up a third time by Allan.

Charlie was on his computer playing Rust.

Pim sat there, waiting.

Pim was extra excited for the holidays this year. He rarely got to spend time with his family. He felt very lucky that he could spend upwards of a week with them now, even if it was at the expense of Charlie’s life (sort of).

Pim looks over at Charlie. He seems very in his element; he’s a self proclaimed pro-gamer, why wouldn’t he be? Pim wonders if he’s gonna play Rust for the entirety of their break. Charlie mutters a quiet “shit,” and spams his mouse. It’s not enough, apparently, and he groans, releasing himself from the clutches of the computer and leaning back in the chair. Pim looks away.

It’s about seven minutes now until they’re free.

The door opens and Mr. Boss walks in. He sees Charlie gaming and watches for a second silently, only saying “oh, nice” when he gets a good item. Mr. Boss looks up at everyone. “Before you guys go, I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya.”

Mr. Boss pulls out a manilla folder and slaps it down on the breakroom table.

“What is that?” Charlie asks cautiously.

“Oh, just some homework for your vacation!”

They collectively groan.

“Don’t worry, guys!” Mr. Boss pulls thin packets out of the folder and passes them out. “I just want to make sure we get in the holiday spirit! I want everyone to make one person smile before the year ends, heehee!”

Charlie looks at the packet and thumbs through the pages.

“This is like, 7 pages dude. Double sided. This is more than we do for regular clients.”

“Yeeerrrp. It’s actually a paper version of our remote position client completion form.”

“There’s a remote position?” Allan asks— the dish is no longer important.

“Oh, yeah, sillies! We have 372 smiling friends workers working remote around the clock to make people smile! They get to work from wherever they want, choose their own hours, and they even make more than you guys do!”

There’s a moment of silence before everyone seemingly opens their mouth to speak. Mr. Boss is quicker, though.

“Aaaaanyway, I hope you guys have a good vacation! And make sure to fill out the entire packet! Remember, you only have to make one person smile, but you do have to fill out the registration form on the back of page 4 and the release form on page 3 and also the customer satisfaction form on the back for them confirming that they smiled. It’s really not that much!”

Mr. Boss was in the doorway about to leave.

“Wait wait wait wait, Mr. Boss,” Charlie is desperate, “about the remote position--”

“Byeeee guys! Merry Christmas!”

He closes the door.

“And happy new year!” He yells to them, muffled through the door.

Charlie groans and melts into his chair a little.

“I never knew there was a remote position,” Allan confesses.

“Me neither,” Pim mutters a little despondent.

“I… how much more do you think they make?” Allan asks, setting his dish down to dry.

“I dunno. I mean… probably… a good bit more.” Pim answers.

“Well,” Charlie closes his laptop and stands up, “I’m heading out. We have nothing else going on and I haven’t eaten anything all day. Anyone want to go to Spaghetti Disco?”

“That’s fancy,” Pim comments as he scratches at some crud on the table with his finger.

Charlie starts packing his laptop away in its case. “I’m just craving spaghetti, man. Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess. What about you, Allan and Glep?”

“I guess, sure-uh.”

“jwkewjekjwefsdjkfskdhe.”

“Oh, that’s right, Glep, we were going to go on that movie double date. How could I forget-uh?”

“Oh! What movie?”

“Bimblar Seven. Kickolas Nagé is in it.” Allan rubs at a water droplet mark on his tie.

“Oh, wow! The pro footy player slash pro swimmer slash pro actor?”

“Yeah. I would invite you but I think the tickets are sold out-uh. And it’s a double date.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Pim’s definitely a little bummed out-- “I’ll be getting spaghetti with Charlie, anyway.”

“Okay, well,” Charlie claps, “you ready to go, Pim?”

“Yep!”

“Cool. Uhhhh, see you guys next year then?”

“See ya.”

“Jwejwejkwesdfj.”

“Aight. C’mon, Pim.”

///

Of course spaghetti disco had a bar— and of course the main course Charlie aimed for was some special holiday drink he saw them posting about on social media. He took a seat at the bar before Pim could suggest a booth or maybe a table somewhere.

It’s fine, Pim thinks. Really not the end of the world.

Pim struggles to work his way up on top of the bar stool. When he finally makes it, he’s just a little bit out of breath. Charlie looks over just in time to say, “oh, dude, I could have helped you.”

Pim waves it off with a smile. His shirt is wrestled out from so tightly tucked in his pants. It’s fine, he’s gonna be eating (and presumably drinking the way Charlie wants to take this night) so he may as well leave himself a smidge disheveled.

“You know, Charlie,” Pim tries three or four times to perch his chin on his balled fist comfortably, “I didn’t ask what you’re doing for Christmas. You celebrate, right?”

Their spaghetti arrives and they thank the waitress. It’s in the same cup they use for their drinks; a trademark of Spaghetti Disco. It almost looks like worms, and Pim scrunches his face at it a little.

“Well yeah, I’m Catholic,” Charlie adds pointedly. The bartender slides an Iron City to each of their spots in addtion to Charlie’s Christmas themed drink. They both thank him subtly.

“Well— I wasn’t sure, I mean.. I know a lot of people that are Catholic that don’t practice.”

Charlie throws back a hefty swig of the beer. He grimaces and sets it down. Some of it dribbles down his lip. He steals a sip of the Christmas drink and cringes worse.

“Yeah, but like— here’s the thing, Pim. Christmas is like, not even a holiday anymore dude. It’s like…” Charlie takes off his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and replaces the hat, “it’s just a thing to get people to buy shit now. You know? Like-like I haven’t had, like, a magical—or whatever— Christmas since I was a kid.”

“Oh, Charlie! That’s not fair,” Pim frowns. “You deserve to have a good Christmas again. That’s so sad!”

“No no, Pim, you’re missing the point. I’m saying no one has them anymore once you’re older. Like it’s all just fuckin… matching Christmas pjs at Walmart that you wear like, once… and stuff that kinda just goes on sale and-and they throw away after Christmas because no one fuckin-“ he burps— “Excuse me. No one fuckin wants, like… a fuckin “Ho Ho Ho I’m- there’s a baby on the way!” shirt after, like, Christmas morning. Like it all just gets thrown away.”

He takes a big sip of his drink and a heaping bite of spaghetti, commenting under his breath that it’s hitting the spot. Pim takes the minute to really hear what he has to say.

“Hmm.” Is all he has to reply with at first. Charlie is still chewing, so Pim articulates a better response as he winds up a fork of spaghetti. “You know, I think-I think it’s situational. I think it’s really wonderful in the right situation. Like, the-“

“Like the… Pj’s? And shit?”

“The- yeah. Like, if it’s with the right people.”

Charlie shoots him a suspicious look as he says this.

“What, are you talking about your family? Because-“

And they both talk at once,

“Yeah! I mean, they’re not perfect, but— oh.“

“Because they seemed horrible last time— oh.”

A quiet moment passes. Charlie looks away awkwardly.

“Sorry, Pim.”

“You thought they were horrible?”

“I mean, yeah, man. They were like… fully fucking shooting at each other. With guns. Like that’s…. That’s abnormal. I’d honestly avoid people like that. And try to get the, um, kids out of that situation.”

“Well, yeah, they shouldn’t— I mean I’m not disagreeing with you, but they’re still my family, and it’s not that bad if you just go away when they do it.”

“Pim. That’s not normal. Like- like genuinely, I’d avoid them. That sounds awful. You get to go away, they don’t.”

“But, I still love them, you know? Like, I can’t just… and you know, the kids, too. Like they need to talk to someone, um, normal. Like I think coming by is good for them.”

“Just call, like, CPS.”

“Oh, um- Mister Frog actually got rid of CPS a few months ago.”

“What?” Charlie stops mid bite. “Like- like really?”

“Yeah, he- it was kind of sudden. Um. I think I told you when it happened, like at the office, I guess you didn’t hear me…”

“Yeah, no, I definitely didn’t. That’s awful. I hope those kids’ll be alright.”

With the conversation becoming a bit heavier, they both take a minute to eat. Pim looks at Charlie a lot. At some point, Pim opens his mouth to talk, then closes it. Then,

“So, you’ve got no plans then?” Pim asks.

“I’m gonna get wasted and I’m gonna play some Rust. The patch they just put out should make these idiots running the server I’m on lose everything. It’s gonna be great.”

“Oh. Well, anything else?”

Charlie finishes his beer and it’s replaced with a new one when the bartender passes by. The Christmas drink is being ignored.

“That’s pretty much it.”

“No holiday stuff? At all?”

“Probably gonna find a new years party.”

“Nothing for Christmas. then?”

“Nah, I guess not.”

They both take long gulps of their drink.

“So.” Pim says. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Charlie…”

“Yeah?” Charlie has spaghetti taking up his entire mouth and face. He suffers from late stage spaghetti kid syndrome, evidently.

“Would… so, you don’t have to, and I know you just kind of made your stance clear, but I thought I’d ask…” Pim takes a big breath. “I’m supposed to stay a little over a week at my family’s house for Christmas and I can do it alone, I do every year, but I thought I’d ask because-”

“Pim. No.”

“Oh please, Charlie! Come with me! I promise we can make it fun, it will be a grand adventureee!” He throws his arms up for emphasis.

Charlie crosses his arms.

“No, dude. I’m firm about this. There are a million other things I’d rather do. I’d have to, like, lose my apartment or something.”

Pim frowns and leaves it.

If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, Pim thinks. No use forcing it.

“Alright. But if you feel super sad and lonely and in need of Christmas cheer text me-“ “I won’t.“ “-because I’m leaving around lunchtime.” “Okay, man.”

They eat the rest of their spaghetti, have a few more drinks, and talk about remote work. They talk a lot about remote work. They both leave for their separate apartments by the end of the night.

Charlie, cranky,sits in Pim’s car the next morning, his overnight bag in the back and his snarkiness in full swing. Pim is practically bubbling over in excitement at the wheel.

“I just can’t believe both your power and electricity went out as soon as you got home,” Pim can’t hold back his excitement in his voice. “What are the odds?!”

It was true-- Charlie was only home for a few minutes before everything fizzled out. He’d got a call a few minutes later that the power to his apartment building went out (duh) due to the generator being crushed by a wrecking ball used in nearby construction, so there would be no heating or electricity at his place for at least a week. They didn’t even say sorry-- it was an automated call.

His first move would be to couch surf until then, but his options seemed exhausted before he even began looking. Zoey was in California for a highschool friend’s wedding and Christmas with her family, and her roommates definitely wouldn’t want him staying there alone. His uncle lived all the way over past Pittsburgh, so that was a no. Tyler moved to Pittsburgh too a few months ago after getting let off. He claimed the music scene there was “just better”. Fuck Pittsburgh, Charlie thought more than a few times after getting the news. Everyone’s moving to fuckin’ Pittsburgh.

He could get a motel or hotel or Airbnb or Vrbo or whatever, but with the cost of that he might as well go to Brazil and back all over again. He called Pim and he came to pick him up. He crashed at his place and got hardly any sleep.

Pim’s excitement alongside all of this rubbed him the wrong way.

“Pim, can you not treat this as some awesome thing? For one thing, I had to throw out my groceries this week ‘cause of all this. I had, like, really good leftovers I was looking forward to eating.”

“Oh, Charlie, don’t be like that… we can go to the place it’s from when we get back if that’ll make you feel better. My family’s probably gonna cook food all week for us, too, and maybe you can take home some leftovers if you’d like!”

Charlie groans.

“That’s not the point though, man. I just wanted to go home and relax. This year has been nothing but chaos and I think I deserve to just do what I want for a little.”

Especially when the only reason we have this break is because I literally died, he nearly adds, but he bites his tongue.

Pim is quiet. He would hardly call playing Rust relaxing the way he’s seen Charlie react to it, but to each their own he supposes. He tries to think of solutions.

“Well, I mean, you could just take whatever time we have left outside of activities to play video games, or watch your shows or whatever it is you do to relax.”

“Yeah but Pim, that’s the thing, I want to do that and only that. Not that and- and activities, I just wanna relax man.”

“Oh, it will be fun, Charlie!” Pim nudges Charlie with his elbow. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I would and I am.”

They drive for about an hour, stopping for coffee at Wawa on the way. It helps, but the annoyance of the whole situation still grates on Charlie, and the looping track of “Dooty Da” on the radio doesn’t help. Charlie decides that it has lost its charm and he turns down the dial.

“If I’m forced to go along with all this, then I’m choosing the music. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, sure, I can listen to whatever.”

Charlie pulls out the filthy old phone adapter cord for the company car (the end where it plugs into the phone is bent and worn so bad the wire is exposed) and he sloppily plugs his phone into the AUX.

“Alright, uhhhhhh… how much longer do we have on the drive?”

“Hmm? Oh, um… another half hour, I’d say.”

“Okay, Pim, you gotta listen to this. Like really listen. It’s like a yearly tradition for me to listen to this album.”

Pim’s interested now.

“And you haven’t shown me this before?” He fiddles with the seam of the leather steering wheel.

“Nah, it’s like- you gotta listen to the whole thing if you’re gonna listen...”

“Yeah, alright! Put it on, yeah.”

Charlie sits through around 12 seconds of two different Youtube ads, skipping as soon as he could.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“Oh, it’s Christmas music! This sounds pleasant!”

“This is the most recent one that came out last year. Every year he writes a new one and adds it to the album. I’m waiting on this year’s.”

“Who is this?”

“Uhh, Mac Demarco. His stuff is amazing, man. Seriously, he’s like, an idol of mine.”

Pim’s happy to see Charlie a little happier. The next song comes on and Pim subtly bops his head to it.

“This one’s a little creepy, haha.”

Charlie takes a big sip of his coffee. “Yea, he’s got range.”

They listen to the music some more and comment on a dog they see in a passing car. Some flurries start up as they take the exit off the highway and ease into the suburbs. House after house is decorated in elaborate Christmas decorations that Pim excitedly gawks at and points to, to which Charlie feels his blood pressure heighten. The further they go outbound, the less fancy the light displays are. There are more of those silly inflatable yard decorations, now. Then, it eases into maybe a few strings on a hedge, or maybe a partially driven over blow mold decoration arrangement, glowing Santas beaming at Charlie and Pim as they drive by.

The album lasts them the rest of the car ride. They talk over some songs and Charlie shushes him for others. When they reach the familiar apartment complex, Charlie seems to be in a better mood overall. Pim makes a mental note to let Charlie DJ in the future.

They pull into the back and see Pim’s mother smoking on the back porch. The flurries have calmed entirely to a flake here and there and there’s a thin layer of snow over everything, replenishing what melted the previous day.

The two get out of the car and she sees them.

“PIMOTHY!”

Pim’s mother snubs her cigarette quickly and rushes over in her pink slippers. She wraps Pim in a big hug, swaying him a little. Charlie goes to grab their bags, and when he comes back, they’re talking about so many different things so quickly Charlie has trouble keeping up. He accidentally makes eye contact with Pim’s mom, who, almost as if she were waiting for a cue, swoops Charlie into a hug.

“Oh, uh,” Charlie doesn’t hug back. He’s visibly uncomfortable.

“How are you, sweetheart? Are you keeping Pim under control?”

Charlie pauses. He realizes he has an opportunity to be very funny and also get revenge on Pim.

“Oh, you know. He’s all mixed up in trouble at the office,” he deadpans.

“What?!”

“Oh he didn’t tell you? Yeah, Pim’s been really into getting up to unprofessional scandalous stuff at work. He brings women in all the time--”

Pim’s contented expression watching the family bonding unfold quickly morphs into one of confusion, then horror.

“HAH! Charlie’s joking,” and he pushes at Charlie’s belly to separate the two. He looks at Charlie desperately. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” he cheeses and looks back at Pim. Mischief lingers in his voice. “Except the last part. He’s one hundred percent a total ladies man. He picks up chicks on the job all the time, honest.”

“PIM! Is this true?! I thought this job was going to keep you honest!” When the pressure was on Pim, Charlie didn’t mind it at all.

“Agh- Charlie! No, it’s not true, mum…” He facepalms.

“What about Jennifer, man?”

“Who?”

“Jennifer, with all the- from the Shrimp adventure.”

Pim looks away quickly, his face heating up. His hands fidget with each other.

“Well…that was different.”

“I thought you would have grown out of that, Pim.” She sighs, and starts walking back to the duplex. “Come inside, get out of this cold. Your siblings have been talking about you all day.”

Pim turns to the car to start carrying bags, and Charlie already has them all in his hands as he shuts the door.

“Oh-- do you want help? That looks heavy…”

“I’m good, man. Just get the door. And do the talking.”

“Okay, sure.”

They follow a little distance behind his mom. Charlie leans a little towards Pim and asks, “so, what’d you grow out of?”

Pim can hear the smile in his voice and he hides his face in his hands. He blushes in embarrassment.

“Argh. I didn’t think she would bring that up…” Pim sighs, “Alright. I dated a ton of girls in highschool-- that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kind of focuses on it a lot, I don’t know why, maybe its a mum thing--”

“Nah, not that. I’m shocked that you- that you had game in highschool.”

“What? Oh, well. I didn’t really know what I was doing,” he confesses. “I was definitely… doing it wrong, looking back.”

“Clearly not, man. You said it, I mean, you dated a ton of girls. And your parents are still mad about it, that’s gotta count for something.”

Pim laughs a little as they get to the patio door.

“You’re funny, Charlie.”

They go inside, wipe their shoes, and are greeted with chaos. If the kids had the capabilities to bounce off the walls, they would be. When Pim walks in, they swarm him. They dogpile him with a hug and before Charlie can get a firm count of how many there are, they’re off again, crawling through the walls and running up the stairs and chasing each other from room to room to room. Pim looks overjoyed and very frazzled down on the floor. Charlie wordlessly helps him up.

“Let’s go set our stuff down upstairs, Charlie.”

They pass through the front room (the holiday tinsel is up and Pim cups his hands to his cheek in adoration) and Charlie hears the TV on in the living room as he follows Pim up the stairs. His dad must be watching something. The occasional shout or laugh from the kids running around keeps Charlie a little on edge.

As they ascend the dark, carpeted staircase, Charlie squints at all the photos, trying to scrape up any blackmail against Pim. At some point, he sets down a bag on the stairs awkwardly and he puts his hand on Pim’s shoulder to stop him.

“Hm? Yes Charlie?”

“Looking pretty dapper here, buddy.”

He points to a photo of Pim wearing a tux, bow tie, and corsage— not to mention the girl on his arm. His smile is massive and his glasses are apparent. The girl looks a little uncomfortable.

Pim laughs-- “Oh no, I thought mum took this down a while ago,” and he reaches for it, only for Charlie to grab it off the wall first.

“Charlie! What are you doing?”

“I need a picture of this, man.”

“NO! What do you need that for? That’s horrible!” He tries unsuccessfully to grab it from Charlie’s hand. Charlie just holds it higher.

“You owe me for dragging me along. This totally counts as part of it.”

“No way. Charlie!” He tries to reach it again, and he accidentally encroaches on Charlie’s personal space. He bumps into Charlie’s stomach and puts a hand on his belly to brace himself. He looks up at him.

“It’s this or something worse.” Charlie threatens casually.

Pim goes quiet.

“Like what?”

“I ‘unno, I’ll think of something.”

They look at each other.

Charlie knows Pim will accept the conditions just looking at his expression, so he sets the other bags down precariously and grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Ugh, fine.” Pim resigns as Charlie takes the photo. He then takes a selfie with it with a fake horrified expression in reaction to it. “Why that one?!”

“I dunno,” he laughs, “thought it might be funny.”

Charlie grabs the stuff again and they continue upstairs.

“Alright. I better not see these in the work Slack, though.”

“No, no, of course not,” Charlie replies, having already sent it to the work Slack.

The rest of the photos on the walls are all pretty innocuous; it all is very domestic. Charlie feels like he shouldn’t be allowed here in this bubble of domesticity before the storm of reality that is Pim’s family hits. He kind of wishes that something will just ruin the moment already so he doesn’t have to look around the corner for something horrible, metaphorically.

Non-metaphorically, Amy pokes her head out from around the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Ew— Pim? I thought you weren’t coming to Christmas this year.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Oh. No one, I made it up. But I was still excited for you to not show up.”

Pim laughs nervously.

“Well, here we are! I brought my coworker Charlie to stay with us. You remember Charlie, right?”

Charlie does a peace sign. “Yo.”

Amy stares blankly at them.

“Anyway, Brad’s over, soooo… don’t bother us.”

She goes back to her room and slams the door.

“She was nicer to me that time, I think.”

They make it to the once-Pim’s-room-now-game-room-slash-guest-room and drop their stuff inside. There’s one kid idling in there and playing Roblox on his Kindle. Pim shoos him out of the room and closes the door behind Charlie and himself.

“Here we are!” Pim says whimsically. “Oh, so many wonderful memories in here…”

Charlie looks around— it’s a mess of toys, AC units, and other child memorabilia that wasn’t deemed important enough to have out. Crazy messy.

“So we’re staying in your family’s storage room? Why don’t they just get like, a storage unit somewhere?”

“I don’t think it’s enough to warrant a storage unit, do you?”

“Maybe, man. You might get cockroaches or something if you leave it all on the floor like this.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” Pim thinks to every other issue in this house that he’d like to resolve first and shakes away the tidiness mission for later. “Anyway, there’s an air mattress around here, I just have to find it,” Pim starts looking under stacks of various clutter.

“Yeah. I was gonna say...”

They both eye the single twin bed.

“I’ll find that as soon as possible if you want to start unpacking…” Pim starts checking the closet. “Agh. It’s just board games in here, and… oh wait! Yes! Epic!” He pulls out a crumpled air mattress with an air pump still plugged into it. He starts clearing out an area for it on the floor. “I’ll take the air mattress since I’m not sure how reliable it is. Would you mind taking my old bed? It’ll be much comfier than this.”

“Yeah man, I don’t care.” Charlie starts grabbing handfuls of toys and cramming them into the already crammed space under the bed. There’s some semblance of bedding, but years of crumbs, dust and dead bugs have accumulated. “Uhhh… got any different bedding?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah. I’ll get that for you now.”

While Pim’s gone, Charlie goes on his phone. He has a few missed snaps— two from Zoey, one from Tyler. Zoey’s is at the beach. She’s smiling and having fun with her friends— they’re all drinking zany colored drinks. Charlie wishes he was too. Tyler’s snap is of a house party where he’s made it behind the DJ’s stand, absolutely destroying the crowd with his stuff. It’s short, but Charlie can tell he’s having a blast. He replies to each of them with a photo of a dead spider on the bed. He captions it, “me rn”. Pim gets back and he puts his phone away.

“Oh, geez man, you got all that?”

Pim holds a tower of bedding— two sets of comforters, pillowcases, blankets, and sheets. “Can you take the bedding off your bed really quickly?” There’s a frantic element to his request and Charlie does as told. He tosses it by the door and Pim drops the bedding on the bed with an exaggerated exhale. He starts on making the mattress.

They spend maybe twenty minutes setting everything up. Charlie settles for a sheet and a blanket, but Pim insists on making it for him if he wouldn’t. The air mattress is only a foot away parallel to Charlie’s bed.

“Alright, it’s 6:30. What do you want to do next, Charlie? I think my family wanted to go out for dinner.”

“You know, I’d really like to but I’m feeling pretty tired, man. I might sit that one out and catch up on some sleep here.”

“Aww, alright. Did you want me to get you anything?”

“Uhhhh, yeah. You know what I like,” and Charlie kicks his shoes off as he sits on the side of his bed. Pim heads over to the doorway. “Lights off?” He asks, to which Charlie politely says, “yes please.”

“Okay, well… sleep well.” Pim smiles sweetly at Charlie and closes the door behind him.

Now it’s time for Charlie to do what he wanted to do from the start.

Rust time.

The second Pim’s footsteps hit the stairs, Charlie speeds over and locks the door. Going back to his bed, he sits down and roots through his bag. He pulls out his laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, and sets everything up. He’s all ready until he realizes he needs wifi.

He checks everywhere. It’s nowhere he’d expect it to be. He considers texting Pim for a minute, but his cover would be blown. Out of options, he returns to his bed and lies down. He groans and sets his stuff on the floor.

He’s pissed— the only thing he wanted to do was check this update. He’ll ask Pim as soon as he gets back. Maybe he can squeeze in an hour or two tonight when they get back. He hopes Pim won’t have an issue with him staying up late to play.

He drifts off, missing his apartment and what he could have had for the next week. He doesn’t expect himself to actually fall asleep.

Charlie wakes up to Pim opening the door. The excess light that comes through the door behind Pim’s silhouette is enough to make Charlie squint.

“Agh.”

“Oh! Charlie! Sorry— I didn’t know you were awake!”

Pim takes a step in. He isn’t wearing what he had on before— it’s some navy blue crew neck and sweats.

“How long was I out?” Charlie asks as he sniffles hard and rubs his eyes.

“Well, it’s 11 something…”

“What?” Charlie sits up incredulously. “Why didn’t you wake me up when you got back?!”

“You looked so cozy, I couldn’t! Plus, the dinner was, uh… weird. I assumed you’d want to sleep through the aftermath of that, so.”

Charlie checks his phone and doesn’t respond to Pim. He didn’t have any new texts. Maybe the notifications didn’t register— he opens Snapchat and checks it anyway.

“So…” Pim continues, “I mean, I just got ready for bed, I was gonna go to sleep now.” His sentence fizzles out. Then he throws on, “I don’t know if you want to go back to sleep, or…?”

He eases back down. “I guess,” he says with no confidence in his voice. Pim closes the door behind him and it goes dark. Charlie only now notices the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling over by the window. Pim climbs in bed.

“Your food’s in the fridge, by the way. It’s labeled.”

Charlie shoots back up.

“Oh- okay. No, I’m doing that definitely, yeah. I’ll be right back.”

Charlie doesn’t care to put his shoes on as he sneaks downstairs. The lights are all out, and the television is still on. Upon further inspection, Pim’s dad is asleep on the couch. He snores loudly.

Charlie finds the styrofoam box with “Charlie :-)” written on it. He spares no time in putting it in the microwave. He grabs a fork (he goes through all the drawers and of course it’s the last one) and a napkin. While it cooks, he roots around for something to drink. There’s some orange juice left in the bottom of a jug. He grabs the entire thing and, as his food finishes up, carries everything he foraged with him upstairs.

He sneaks into the room, closes the door quietly, tiptoes over to his bed, and sits down. It’s fries and what looks like a Buffalo chicken wrap. He takes a massive bite and it all feels worth it for a second.

“Charlie, are you eating in here?” Pim’s voice is meek.

“Oh shit. I thought you were asleep already.”

Pim laughs sleepily.

“Almost. That smells really good though.”

“You want a fry?”

“I already brushed my teeth,” Pim says dismally. Charlie shrugs and Pim can’t see.

“You can always rebrush ‘em.”

Pim stretches in his bed and makes a noise Charlie ignores. “Mmm. Maybe.” After a few seconds of thinking about it, he says “yeah, pass me one.”

“Alright!” He hands it to Pim and fist bumps him before he takes his hand away. Pim’s fist is limp and unexpecting. “You know, if it helps, Pim, I’m not brushing my teeth. I forgot my toothbrush at home.”

“Charlie! You could have told me, we could have stopped somewhere…” Pim sits up and scoots over to the edge of his mattress to grab more fries from the box in Charlie’s lap.

“We can get one tomorrow and I’ll brush twice as long or something tomorrow night to make up.”

“That’s not how that works,” and Charlie hears the smirk in Pim’s words.

“Yeah it is. I’ll just scrub off what I didn’t scrub off tonight, it’s not like it’s keeping count or whatever. And— besides, people from like, the 1700’s were making laws or whatever for our country and they didn’t even brush their teeth, they didn’t have this shit, so… yeah.”

“Is that true?”

“I dunno, probably. But it’s not gonna kill me if I skip one night.”

“I’m googling it.”

Their hands touch as they both reach for a fry. Nothing is said.

“It says-“

“What says? What’s your source?”

“Uhh, Reddit. They say-“

“Dude. Get a different source. Go to Wikipedia or something.”

“What? This is fine, they probably took their answer from Wikipedia anyway. They say that people have been brushing their teeth since ancient times with sticks and such, but the added sugars in our diet today make our teeth rot. And something about our teeth being closer together now too.” Pim looks up. “So you should definitely get a toothbrush tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue with you, I’m just saying one night is fine.”

“Well, let me look that up-“

“It’s not gonna change what I do. I don’t have a toothbrush right now, I don’t really have any options, man.”

Pim clicks his tongue. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Charlie finishes his wrap and pim finishes off the fries that Charlie couldn’t force down. Pim goes to brush his teeth again and Charlie lays back down. He’s not really tired, but that’s never stopped him from sleeping.

Charlie can’t help but to thank god for the short day. At least there was good food, good music, and good sleep.

Now they just had to do that for a week.

#sf #my art #smiling friends #charpim #my writing #smiling friends but it’s a hallmark movie #long post

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sailorgoon13 · 3 months

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Poppy Sweeting

Basics:

Full Name: Poppy Eloise Sweeting

Nickname: Pop

Gender: Female

Date of Birth: 12 September, 1874

Heritage: English

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Willow, Unicorn Hair, 10 3/4, Slightly Yielding

Appearance:

Hair Color: Short brown hair styled in a playful bob

Eye Color: Warm brown

Skin Tone: Light-colored skin with a healthy glow

Height: 5'5"

Body Type: Fit and agile, slender and athletic

Style: Gentle, cottage-core, favoring pieces of warmth and comfort in hues of sunlit meadows. Soft fabrics and cozy knits, opting for tones of yellows, browns, and oranges. Her wardrobe is a collection of pieces infused with rustic charm, from flowy dresses with delicate floral patterns to oversized sweaters paired with worn-in trousers.

Features: Expressive eyes, hair naturally has auburn undertones, gentle smile, bright aura

Personality:

Traits: Compassionate, Optimistic, Nurturing, Resilient

Likes: Magical Creatures, Exploring, Reading, Tea Time, Art, Quiet moments

Dislikes: Poaching/ exploiting creatures, Animal cruelty, Destruction, Disrespect for nature

Hobbies: Painting, Sketching creatures, Star Gazing, Herbology

Fears: Losing a loved one, Dark Magic, Her parents finding her

Family and Friends:

Father: Angus Sweeting

Poacher

Dark Wizard

Mother: Violet Sweeting

Poacher

Dark Witch

Friends: Samantha Dale, Lenora Everleigh, Adelaide Oakes, Highwing

Magic:

Special Abilities: Highly adaptable, Charms mastery, natural affinity for communicating with magical creatures

Boggart: Her parents

Patronus: Dragonfly

Polyjuice: Would have an earthy hue and subtle swirls of golden and amber tones. Smell like lavender, chamomile, and mint and would intertwine with hints of honey and vanilla. Taste like a warm, herbal tea infused with hints of citrus, honey and spice.

Amortentia: Sweet honey, Vanilla, Oranges, Cedar wood and Cinnamon

Backstory:

Poppy Sweeting's early years were marked by hardship and adversity. Born to Angus and Violet Sweeting, a couple of poachers who illegally hunted and traded magical creatures, Poppy was raised in the harsh environment of poacher camps, constantly on the move and unable to find stability or belonging in her parents' lifestyle. Despite their efforts to instill their values in her, Poppy found herself increasingly at odds with her parents' cruel treatment of magical creatures.

Amidst the chaos of her upbringing, Poppy found solace in the company of her grandmother, a kind and gentle soul who conducted research on magical creatures without causing harm. It was her grandmother who nurtured Poppy's love for magical creatures and taught her the importance of compassion and empathy.

One fateful day, Poppy witnessed a Hippogriff being captured by poachers, prompting her to take a stand and rescue the creature. Fleeing with the Hippogriff, whom she named Highwing, Poppy sought refuge at her grandmother's house, finally finding a sense of belonging with the only family member she truly connected with.

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Poppy was sorted into Hufflepuff, finding kinship among fellow students who valued loyalty and kindness. However, she remained reserved and reclusive, preferring the company of magical creatures to that of her classmates.

It wasn't until her fifth year at Hogwarts that things began to change for Poppy. When she met Y/N, a new student with a bright smile and a kind heart, Poppy's world shifted. Y/N's friendship brought light and warmth into Poppy's life, helping her to open up and embrace the joys of friendship and camaraderie.

With Y/N by her side, Poppy's days grew brighter and happier. Together, they explored the grounds of Hogwarts, cared for magical creatures, and stood up against injustice. Through their friendship, Poppy discovered a newfound sense of courage and purpose, realizing that she was never truly alone as long as she had friends who cared for her.

Academics:

Best Subject: Herbology

Favorite Subject: Care for Magical Creatures

Favorite Professor: Garlick

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: Sharp

Student Life:

As a Hufflepuff, she values hard work, loyalty, and kindness, striving to excel in her classes while also finding time to pursue her passion for magical creatures.

Attentive and diligent, eager to absorb as much as she can about the magical world and its wonders

Excels in subjects like Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Charms

Can often be found in the Hogwarts greenhouse

Enjoys exploring the grounds of Hogwarts

Template: @hazyange1s

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turnupswritessometimes · 3 months

Text

A Toast to the Roman - Last Binding Series - Oneshot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56529883

Summary: “Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

“In my defence—” He used his best, most clipped voice. “Your sister bullied me into selling her all the pornography I was carrying. And, if I didn’t sell it to her, I believe the fair lady would have stolen it.”

(In which, Robin discovers Alan sold Maud his porn stash, everyone discovers the identity of the Roman and Alan discovers he's responsible for helping start all of their relationships.)

Word Count: 3,473

A Toast to the Roman

It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon. A lazy Sunday afternoon of a bank holiday weekend. Naturally, the bank holiday meant Maud had been invited back to the Blyth estate from University – and where Maud Blyth went, Violet Debenham followed. Then, because Robin was Robin, he extended the invitation to Lord Hawthorn, to, “make it something of a party.”

And, where Lord Hawthorn went, Alan Ross seemed to follow.

“That had been my idea – a friendly party,” Robin had said, when they’d arrived. He wore that bright, Baronet smile that was impossible to resist. “A reunion, of the Final Contract Crew.”

Alan smiled back, blankly. “The what?”

“Ignore him,” Edwin appeared from further down the hallway, his arms full of books. “I’ve told him, we’re not calling ourselves that.”

“We need a team name,” Robin said. “Don’t you think?”

Alan weighed that up – figuring out who else would be solidly against the idea of a team name, who would be for it, and which side would be for fun to be with – when Jack said, “This isn’t Oxford, Blyth.”

Robin only laughed. He stepped aside, and welcomed them properly into his house. Alan was starting to feel more and more at ease on these estates, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Certainly didn’t like becoming accustomed to houses with their own grounds; changing for dinner; days without any plans to do real work. At least he still felt the same zeal to radicalise the staff. At least he would never tire of the way Jack looked at him when Alan did have the clothes to change to dinner: as though he wanted to rip them straight back off and kiss him completely senseless. It was the company – not just Jack, but all of them – that made Alan begrudgingly alright with the whole business. Because they were closer to him than simply friends now. It was like having a second family.

And it was a nice weekend – a good weekend – until Robin leant forward to move a pile of books from the coffee table in the lounge to make room for the chess set, and a purple pamphlet fell out.

There seemed, to Alan, a moment where time stopped, as everyone recognised it. (Purple, Alan thought almost hysterically, was not a very discreet colour.) They’d all been half-asleep in the sunshine drifting through the windows, lounging around, totally full of roast beef dinner with all the trimmings. Now, though, they were all awake. He took stock. Adelaide was (mercifully) in the garden. Maud sat in front of the armchair, legs folded under her, with an expression so carefully clueless it looped right round to guilty. Violet actually sat in the armchair, playing with Maud’s hair, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on her face. Entertained.

Both Edwin and Robin were sat on the sofa opposite Alan. Well, Robin was leant over, looking at the pamphlet as though it was a dog who’d slipped the leash and he was trying to catch it solely with his mind. Whilst Edwin was reclining, an elbow on the sofa, his fingers against his temples. He looked faintly sick.

Alan and Jack were on the other sofa. Not close – not practically on top of each other, the way Edwin and Robin always sat. Jack was a respectable distance away, though his arm was over the back of the sofa. If he twitched his hand, he could just graze the back of Alan’s neck – which he deliberately did now. His bad leg was outstretched, his cane against the end of the sofa. He looked impressively uncaring, but there was just a – quirk – to his mouth that showed his amusement.

Alan himself sat on the edge of the sofa, primed like a terrier, and he was desperately trying to school his expression into normalcy. He suspected he was succeeding as well as Maud. He felt nauseous. It was one thing to know that a lot of men had read his pamphlets; it was another thing entirely to come face to face with them – especially when he was good friends with them. Especially when he’d fought alongside them to save England’s magicians – England – the world?

“Ah,” Robin said. “That’s Win’s.”

Edwin’s usually colourless face flushed with pink. “Robin!”

“What?” Robin smiled, easily, and picked up the pamphlet. He still twisted it, to hide the title. “No one knows what it is.”

“Okay,” Alan said. He couldn’t help it. “Even if we all didn’t know what it is, that would only make us more suspicious.”

Jack’s pointer finger traced his neck, and he determinedly did not look at him. No doubt the bastard was smug and smirking. He hated him when he was like that.

“It truly is the guiltiest thing you could’ve said, Robin,” Violet added.

“In that case—” Edwin cleared his throat. “For the record, it’s not just mine.”

“Wait, no.” Now Robin stood, the books discarded, holding Alan’s fucking pornography aloft in one hand. “I can understand Hawthorn and Alan knowing about the Roman. I can even understand Violet. But I would like Maud to explain how she knows.”

Maud ducked her chin, smiling. It was the kind of smile that Alan suspected got her out of a lot of trouble growing up, and he could already see Robin start to relent.

“I happened to stumble upon his works, aboard the Lyric,” she said.

“How?” Robin pressed.

Maud, bless her, probably tried not to. But she couldn’t stop those bright green eyes from flicking to Alan. She might as well have pointed her finger and shouted.

Alan, knowing it was a show of guilt, still looked down. The back of his neck prickled, expecting a nudge from Jack. He didn’t, this time, not with Robin staring him down. It was not so much that their relationship was a secret, but they both seemed repelled by physical affection when other people were in the room. (Apart, of course, from longing looks and ‘accidental touches.’ Perhaps that was part of it.)

“Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

Violet burst out laughing; Maud giggled; even Edwin hid a smirk behind his hand. Jack though, Jack watched Alan with those piercing blue eyes. He had one eyebrow ever so slightly raised, like a challenge.

Alan, though, wondered if it was a good time to bring up the fact that he’d betrayed them all to Edwin’s evil older brother, and made the whole Last Contract business a hell of a lot harder. Surely that would be a good distraction from selling a Baronet’s sister porn.

Maud cried, “That’s slanderous, Mr Ross!”

Robin, though, rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t truly angry. “Maudie. You can’t bully people into selling you things.”

“In my defence—” Maud sat up, even straighter, her dark hair falling out of Violet’s grasp. It fell around her shoulders in a soft wave. “It made for the most amusing evening we had on that ship.”

“Oh, that’s very true,” Violet added, nudging Maud’s shoulder with her knee. Her smile was dazzling. “Who knew Lord Hawthorn would make such a good character in a Roman pamphlet?”

Robin’s eyebrows rose in interest, looking over them all. Even Edwin looked intrigued. They were both, no doubt, using their imagination, given their familiarity with the Roman’s work. Alan was regretting eating so many roasted parsnips, because they were surely going to be making a second appearance. Even that would be preferable to them guessing at the intricacies of their relationship.

It didn’t help, of course, that Jack looked so calm about it all – so uncaring – so fucking smug, when he said, “Indeed.”

Alan wanted to bite him, like a cobra. Unfortunately, thinking about biting Jack; about pouncing on his neck and sinking his teeth in; also sent a sting of pleasure through him. Because, hell, when they were alone these days, they alternated between playing out the Roman’s greatest hits and coming up with the inspiration for the next one. Because hadn’t Jack been folded into each of those stories anyway? What was the point of pretending otherwise?

Robin, at least, seemed at a loss. He nodded. Took a breath. Tried, Alan thought, to still be the indulgent, carefree older brother he always was. He twisted the pamphlet in his hand, hitting it in his other palm. Eventually, he sat back down on the sofa. Edwin’s knee nudged his own, in support.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m not happy about it, but alright. That does explain my question. Thank you.”

Edwin rested his cheek on his knuckles, looking Alan over as though he wanted to study him. He decidedly did not like being the centre of attention in this way – it was even worse than being dressed in fine clothes and trotted out to dinner.

“I’m sorry, Robin,” he murmured, and tried to look suitably embarrassed. Really, his mind was thinking back to that night on the ship. Was placing bull horns on the sides of Jack Alston’s head. Would there be any way to convince him to play that part properly, one day? To hear him rumble ‘Cesare,’ in his ear, when he caught hold of him? When he lifted him bodily, as though he weighed nothing and had Alan completely at his mercy.

He had to shift, on the sofa.

Jack. Whose eyebrow raised a step further. Alan narrowed his eyes in reply.

“Allow me,” Jack said, in that low murmur. It was as much of a ‘please,’ as he could ever give. It was the fact that he asked at all, which cut through Alan’s core. The asshole wouldn’t give Alan’s secret away without his permission. Now that he thought about it, he did want to see their reaction.

He nodded.

“What?” Edwin asked, his tongue sharp and his eyes sharper.

Jack, bastard that he was, drew the moment out. Settled himself even further into the sofa, adjusting his leg again, and tilting his chin ever so slightly up in that lordly fashion.

“Books are best read by their authors,” Jack said. He pinched the back of Alan’s neck. Just enough to sting. He had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. His cheeks bloomed with heat.

There was another moment. A long moment. Edwin looked faintly sick again, his face colourless, his eyes flicking from Alan to Jack. Robin had stopped moving entirely, a half-smile frozen on his face, as though he was expecting them to say it was all a joke. Maud, though, had her hands pressed to her mouth, and looked ecstatic. Violet had hold of Maud’s tresses again, and looked suitably impressed. It was as though Alan writing pornography earnt him more respect, in her eyes, than saving them all from crazy magicians.

Jack, though, Jack looked smug. His hand had stayed just against the back of Alan’s neck. It felt like a claim. Like he’d decided to undress Alan in front of the whole room, and, just like when Jack actually undressed him, it filled him with equal parts embarrassment and excitement. Because everyone in this room was somewhat acquainted with the Roman, and they knew what that implied. Weren’t just placing them both in one of those pamphlets, but confirming it for a fact.

It should bother him more, that he’d exposed not only his own writing, but his own tastes. But, Maud had let slip too many details about her own love life to Alan – and Jack commiserated his pain from Violet’s chats – and from Robin and Edwin determinedly not looking at each other, he guessed they all had their own tastes. That, at least, meant none of them were alone.

“You don’t mean—” Robin started.

“You?” Edwin asked.

Alan grinned. He couldn’t help it. He opened his hands, his fingers splayed. It was different to admit it when he wasn’t teasing Jack Alston. (When he wasn’t trying to fuck Jack Alston.) It gave him a slight thrill, though, to have this knowledge over everyone. To know that even men like Robin, magicians like Edwin, read his work. And liked it.

From behind Maud’s hands came a delighted giggle. Her eyes shone like jewels. Alan looked at her. He couldn’t help it. He flicked his eyelid in a wink. She giggled more, ducking her chin.

Robin rubbed a hand over his face, laughing soundlessly, still seeming dazed. “But you’re—”

“Older than I look.” Alan leant back, into Jack’s hand. Felt his finger press against the bone of his neck. It sent warmth rushing down his back.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” Jack said. Smug, and, if Alan wasn’t losing his mind, a little proud too. Jack Alston was proud of him. It shouldn’t make him feel like a dog with a bone.

Robin thumped back against the sofa. He still held the pamphlet, and he let it uncurl. Alan got a glimpse at the title; it was the latest. He was still a subscriber, then.

“Damn,” he said. His dark eyes roved over Alan again, and he felt his heart squirm. It was unfair how attractive Robin Blyth was. Doubly unfair that he was much too nice to be in any of Alan’s pamphlets. “You’re a skilled writer, Alan.”

Violet snorted. She finished tying off Maud’s plait. “Please – are you going to wax lyrical about his descriptive writing?”

“Well, it is descriptive.”

Edwin took a folded wooden chess set from the table, and tapped Robin’s leg with it in rebuke. Alan bit his tongue harder, a chill running down his spine by the fact that Jack’s hand was still on his collar.

“It might interest you to know, then,” Edwin said, casually, with just a single sly look at Alan. “That the Roman’s writings played somewhat of a role in Robin and I starting our relationship.”

He said it like a poker player placing a winning hand. It certainly felt like that. For a moment, Alan couldn’t breathe.

He supposed it made sense. After all, they’d all recognised the purple pamphlet here, didn’t they? It was a discreet way of asking if someone else was of a similar persuasion, and he was sure it happened a lot. But, still—

“Is there anyone here who is not in a relationship because of my bloody pornography?” he asked.

“That’s a fine discussion to be having.”

Saints alive, it was Adelaide. Back from the garden, and peering into the lounge. Alan wanted to shrivel up like a raisin on the spot, and never be heard from again, especially with the way she was looking at them all. Thank God for the Blyths, and their infectious laughter. It dissolved most of the awkwardness in the room.

Adelaide looked at them all. She shook her head, and said, deliberately, “I will be reading in my room, if anyone needs me.”

“I’m sorry you had to overhear that,” Robin spoke for the group.

She shook her head again, and disappeared. It left them all looking at each other like guilty children. At least Adelaide’s appearance had knocked some of the smug from Jack’s expression. Alan sat back a little, on the sofa, and felt another possessive graze of touch on the back of his neck. It had answered his question. At least Robin finally had the sense to put the pamphlet back between the books, and pile them up underneath the table, and Edwin had busied himself in setting up the chess board. As Alan watched him, he couldn’t help but wonder – just which of Edwin’s copies of his work were the most well-thumbed? Did he and Robin play them out, too?

Edwin glanced up at him. Alan looked away. He definitely shouldn’t let his mind wander there.

Evidently, it was playing on Violet’s mind too, because she said, “I, for one, am very glad we can all share these details about our sex lives.”

Alan winced; he saw Edwin shake his head, determinedly, where Robin outright groaned.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore,” Maud said, tugging her new plait over her shoulder.

“Maudie.” Robin looked at her.

Maud got his meaning. She wrinkled her noise. “Oh no, you’re right. Let’s not.”

“That’s hardly fair, when I have to listen to Miss Debenham regale me with her stories,” Jack said. He had that fake disgruntled tone, which showed he wasn’t actually cross.

“That’s what friends do, Lord Hawthorn.” Violet ruined her air of manners and dignity by sticking her tongue out.

Alan laughed. He couldn’t help it. The sick feeling had given way to heady one; he’d been met with acceptance; with almost too much eagerness. But it was a secret they were all in together – just like magic, Alan supposed. That was why he felt so giddy. It was so ridiculous. It was ridiculous that he was able to have this conversation at all.

Ridiculous, and yet – it was a secret he could never share with his family. A secret that he was oddly glad to share with this family. His other family. It made him feel confident – powerful – like he’d earnt his place here.

He didn’t want to read too much into what that meant.

“I certainly will be reading the Roman in a new light.” Edwin finished setting up the board. He made the first move, with white, and rested his elbows on his knees as he waited for an opponent.

It definitely wasn’t going to be Alan. The more he played of chess, the less he liked it. He resolutely sat back, trying not to look too much like a cat with the cream. He was giddy, now; giddier from Jack’s proud look and smug smirk. Jack was proud that he’d landed the Roman.

It was Jack who made the move against Edwin. They looked at each other, and Alan suspected it would be a tense match. He nudged Jack’s elbow with his own, when he moved forward. He got a glimmer of those blue eyes on him.

“I know I certainly will be.” That was Maud, also looking far too smug – far too happy about who she could imagine in those pamphlets, now.

“You shouldn’t be reading them at all,” Robin replied – as though he was the epitome of innocence.

“I’m a grown woman, Robin.”

The two glared at each other. Silently, Edwin leant forward to move another chess piece. Jack followed suit. They’d exchanged three moves each by the time Robin stood, clapping his hands on his knees as though that concluded the conversation. (Which meant he’d lost the argument to his sister, Alan noticed.)

“I do have questions, though,” Robin continued. He was heading to the cabinet, and thank fuck for that, because that was where the liquor was kept. Alan felt like a drink. He eyed the sparkling glasses, because it was the only safe thing to keep his eyes on.

“I will not be answering any questions about practicality,” Alan said.

Violet laughed again. Jack made a move that clearly lost him his bishop.

Robin was pouring drinks on the sideboard. His cheeks were actually a faint pink, as though he was embarrassed.

“That wasn’t…” He seemed to be pretending to be more occupied in getting each shot of brandy even. “I rather meant about – where your ideas originate.”

“No,” Alan said. “Not today. Certainly not whilst I’m sober enough to remember. Tihank you.”

Which, at least, got a chuckle out of Jack. Alan kicked his good ankle, and was pleased to see that he left a shoe mark on his Lordship’s trousers. He would not even look at Edwin – still soundly winning against Jack – because he was sure there would be some knowing there.

Robin looked suitably cowed and apologetic (for the time being), as he handed out the glasses. They really were fine things; crystal-clear glass with patterns cuts into them; the likes of which the Rossi family would likely never own.

He really did live in two worlds.

“Can we have a toast though?” Robin asked. Asked Alan, and actually waited for him to nod, cheeks still hot. He was rewarded with another of those bright, Blyth smiles. “Well then, a toast to the Roman – for how his…descriptive literature brought us all together.”

Brought them all together, indeed, Alan thought, as they raised their glasses in unison. The brandy glowed golden in the sunlight coming through the windows. It was warm, kicking Alan’s throat on the way down.

But he was smiling.

And that, he thought, was pretty fantastic.

#very aware the authors on tumblr and that scares me greatly #and yes i could just not post it but also #i have a great need for approval of strangers over the internet #last binding #a power unbound #a restless truth #alan ross #jack alston #maud blyth #robin blyth #edwin courcey #violet debenham #fanfiction #fanfic #turnupswrites

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armpirate · 6 months

Text

Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 4

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events.

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with.

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months.

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate.

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position.

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel.

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was.

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it.

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself.

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 13 minutes

The office felt different ever since she stepped inside that morning. It wasn't because of how quiet it was, or how Melanie went straight to her desk, instead of stopping at the Consulting company on the first floor, or how strangely friendly Ava was -she hardly ever greeted the rest of the people in the office, but that day she did. Suddenly, the place she had been working at for more than a year, and that had seemed like hell during the past six months, looked like the perfect workplace out of nowhere. She could even bet the space seemed brighter, even if the windows hadn't been cleaned for a month.

It almost made her feel bad for leaving, and it made her wonder if all the negative aspects were just details that were made up in her head. She, at some point, thought about the possibility of her taking things out of proportion just because she was too sensitive to her surroundings. Maybe she had been taking things out of proportion, maybe there was more than what she saw at first hand. She even felt tempted of rejecting the job position she had accepted, choosing Wooyoung's disappointment over her current boss'.

It could be that there was some future in Youth, and she was just too eager to wait for it to come.

—Meeting in five —Adelaide told everyone, from the door frame of her office—. Y/n, could you bring your computer? I need you to take some notes.

Usually, when those meetings were held, Adelaide gave the team a whole new schedule or called them out for one of the projects not having the results that were expected. So it was no surprise the whole team was nervous since she announced the meeting, until they all took the different seats around the white oval table inside one of the rooms.

—Good morning, everyone —Adelaide greeted, with a serious look while she held up her cup of coffee—. Hope you're having a good Monday.

—Well, we're on it —Brian mumbled, sinking deeper in his seat.

—I love how much enthusiasm you all have within you —her boss faked excitement and happiness, lifting one of her fists in the air.

—What's the meeting about? —Clarisse wondered, moving one of her black locks away from her eyes.

—First of all, I need your presentation done by the end of tomorrow —Adelaide pointed at her—. The client has already asked me a few times, and it seems like they want to bring the meeting forward. So, please.

—Alright, tomorrow will be done.

—The cosmetics project is still going on, I have no news in regards to that restaurant... —Adelaide thought out loud— There should be a new project coming up, so I'd like to know if there are any volunteers to take over it.

Y/n almost felt encouraged to raise her hand, but Ava did it first. She was so greedy, she barely could handle the current project to be taking over another one.

—Oh, since you've raised your hand, I want to forward the client's congratulations after finishing the scrubbing on time.

Y/n's fingers, which had been marking the compass of the whole meeting with each click on the keyboard, suddenly stopped moving when her boss pronounced those words.

It couldn't be. She probably was overthinking it again.

—What scrubbing? —Y/n asked.

—The one with all the surveys from the past week —Adelaide answered as if it was obvious.

—You did it? —Y/n accused Ava.

The sudden accusation, with the upset look, made her gulp thick, slowly feeling the rest of the eyes in the room fall on her.

—Well, you helped her —Adelaide interrupted.

—And isn't it just fair that I receive the same recognition? —Y/n asked— There were ten thousand leads, I did six thousand in these three days, which means she didn't even do half of the work. I even worked at home to assure the client would receive the results this morning. And you still acknowledged her for it and not me?

Her eyes quickly fell on a confused Ava, taken aback by that new attitude coming from Y/n. They all were so used to having her nodding and letting go of things, that having her speak up and clap back was like seeing a unicorn carrying an elf on its loin.

—Ah, right —Y/n nodded—, because having clients seeing you let an inept whiny bitch take over their projects would give a bad look for the company. Especially for you, because the big boss would love seeing how you praise and give visibility to only those who laugh at your jokes —she slammed the upper part of the computer as she closed it—. I've always thought the problem was me. I was convinced I was the one who should improve, because you told me I was still unaware of how things work. I ate it up even if I did all the scrubbings, redacted all the reports and finished most of the presentations. Only because it was convenient for you to keep me like this, to assure yourself the work from everyone would be done. But you know what? Let's see how you all deal with it when I'm gone.

The chair squeaking on the floor as she got up worked as a pistol shot for all the mumbles among them to start.

—But I'm not a bitch —Ava whined.

—You are —Y/n responded, stopping in front of her door—. But don't worry, you'll have all the spotlight to yourself again. And, you know what? You'll get the merit just now, unless you aren't able to finish up the work, which is the most plausible —before opening the door, Y/n turned to her colleagues again—. This is the worst team someone could ever work with. Neither of you know shit about work, but it's not like you need to worry. And obviously, hope you know this is all your fault —she referred to Adelaide, pointing at the table—. You're such a useless and bad boss that I'm surprised you even got the position. Fuck you all, it was horrible working with you —and she topped her goodbye speech with a middle finger as she crossed the door.

The relief she felt in her body as she went back to her desk, only to pick up the few things she had left, multiplied that superation sensation that she felt when she was first hired. It was like all the things that were killing her slowly, all the complaints and rants that she'd only let out in her head, finally found a way out and allowed her to find some peace.

There was nothing that could compare to that.

Slowly, she was getting rid of all the things that had been taking a toll on her self-esteem. First her ex boyfriend, and later her job where she felt she had no future in. It was as if she had entered a whole new era in her life, without even being aware of it.

She knew in the next few weeks everything would be chaos and stress, besides how relaxed she felt in the moment, but she didn't care. She was ready to take it all and take herself towards the next level.

Her fingers waved in the air as she wondered what was the best way to tell her parents. On one hand, she was sure they'd be supportive of her -and even encourage her to take that huge step-, but on the other hand... it was so far away that she wasn't ready to see the sadness on their faces when she told them.

It was even worse when her brother and Rachel showed up half an hour later with the kids, adding that energetic boost that maybe she needed to go on with those news.

—You're so quiet, dear —Rachel approached her after fifteen minutes, placing her hand on her lower arm—. Is everything alright at home?

She wasn't a friend on the same level as Liz, Rosie or Joanne, but she had always been there whenever she needed someone to vent, or when she needed some type of advice -even if shortly after she ended up connecting it to her current life. Which, in some sense, was even better in a matter of perspective, because it added the consequences to back up what she was saying.

—It's good. It's great —Y/n nodded—. Actually, I have news. But I think it'd be better to tell them after we're done having lunch.

Mainly, because she'd rather eat first, and deal with their reactions later. She didn't know what the answer would be, so at the sight of the minimum problem, Y/n tried to opt for the best chance.

—Why later? —her mother approached them— If they're good, it's better to let us know.

—Yeah, give us something good to hear —her father seconded.

—To hear what? —Sullivan appeared after his father, still chewing on something.

—What are you eating? —their father's attention shortly shifted to her older brother— That was still raw.

Except for the few sighs from the ladies in front and next to her, all eyes and attention were back on her, almost surrounding the chair she was sitting on on the porch.

—Good news first: I got a new job —she celebrated.

—Really? —her father's eyes instantly shined in excitement.

—Bad news: It's in Seoul.

His smile quickly dropped when he heard the location, while his wife exchanged a nervous gaze with him before she looked somewhere else to sit.

—But that's on the other side of the world —her mother lamented.

—You'll be all by yourself there —her father continued—. What about your job now? Maybe you could continue there.

—Bad news: I left, and not in the best of conditions —she nervously giggled.

Just like her mother, her father also looked for a place to sit after he was hit with those news.

—It's a change for the better —she assured them—. I was starting to feel burned out, I didn't like what I did. And I got no recognition for the work that I've been doing. It felt like a waste of time —her shoulder shrugged, as she tried to convince her parents that it was a good decision—. The salary doubles the one that I have now, I'll be working directly with the CEO, and I'll be doing exactly what I studied for.

After she had to give up her figure skating career due to an injury on her ankle, she was left with little to no other choices. She didn't want to study, she refused to dedicate four to six years of her life to something that she didn't like. So she ended up doing an Associate's Degree on Secretariat, to at least have something to work with.

She knew that opportunity wouldn't show up twice in her life. That position would put her on a whole different level if she ever had to come back to England.

—Yeah, and how obsessed you're over those Korean boys has zero to do with it.

She liked everything related to Korea, that was true -and it mainly was because of how she slowly got into the kpop and kdrama world. But even if that opportunity had shown up anywhere else, she'd have taken it with no second thoughts.

—I think you chose well —Rachel congratulated her—. She's not attached to anything nor anyone, she's young and smart, and a hard worker. She'll do great in Seoul. Honestly, I really admire you. If I were in your position, I'd have made the exact same decision. Do all of that while you can.

—Rachel —Y/n mumbled with a thin voice, touched by the sweet words of her sister-in-law.

—What? —she continued, looking at the people around her—. Am I not right? We should be supporting her, instead of making her feel like her decision isn't good.

But it didn't seem like her father agreed to what Rachel was saying. While her mother tried to agree with her, her father simply stood up and sneaked inside the house without saying a single word.

And if she thought she'd manage to speak to him for the rest of the day, she was wrong, because he didn't show up in front of her for the rest of the day. Not even to have his lunch. It made her feel like she was doing something wrong, and she was the one who made him upset. The way he seemed to be unreachable was making it harder for her to deal with that situation.

At least until later.

Unable to sleep, she walked downstairs to the kitchen, finding her father sitting behind the aisle in the darkness.

It would've surprised her if it weren't a common habit of his. It was usual finding him there when she got ready to prepare herself her third coffee through the night to keep studying for an exam. He was the one who knew better how hard it was for her to get that degree, and keep her focus and passion on it.

—Look who's back to her roots —he joked quietly, moving the stool next to him so she'd sit—. I'm sorry for reacting that way.

—It's okay. I understand —she answered, taking the spot next to him.

—I want you to succeed, and do what your heart asks you to do —he started to explain himself—. It just hurts to see you go. It was so hard already when you left for London, and I thought that was the furthest you'd ever go —he sadly smiled—. And now you're leaving to the other side of the world, and I'm finally realizing how you're not my little girl anymore. You're this young brave woman that's facing life, and taking decisions.

—It's really important to me to have your support on this —she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder—. I want to know if you're okay with what I'm about to do.

—Of course I am —he nodded—. Everything that helps your future, and that makes you happy, will always have my full support. But I want you to hear me clearly: if things start to go wrong, you'll tell me. Don't keep it to yourself like you've done the past few months. Just like we're here to support you for the good, we're here to support you for the bad. We're your parents, we're supposed to be worried for you constantly. Hell, I'm worried even when you say you're fine because your tone didn't sound convincing enough.

—I will tell you. I promise —she giggled, wrapping his arm with hers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle jab on her side, finding her father throwing her a side smile before he spoke.

—What about one last hot chocolate and one last piece of advice in this house? For the old times.

He tried to be as careful as possible preparing the drinks, avoiding waking someone up by the noise -especially the kids-, moving his hands slowly on her side to place the cup in front of her.

—What about the advice? —she reminded him.

He puckered his lips, lifting his gaze to the ceiling while he thought what the advice would be.

—Take this experience like a lemon you need to squeeze to the last drop. Get all that knowledge you're seeking for, and don't be scared to use them when you need it. And please, be happy. Not for others, but for yourself. Be happy being yourself.

Completely ignoring the hot chocolate that still had small waves of mist covering it up, Y/n hugged her father tight, hiding her face on his shoulder.

2 weeks later

Wooyoung was surprised by the amount of people that went to the airport to say goodbye to her. Although he was able to understand it. It was a big change, and she was flying quite far from home, they wouldn't see her in probably a long while, it was understandable they wanted to see her right before she left.

—Did you pack everything? —her mother asked.

—Yeah, everything's in the bags —that were already on their way to the airplane.

—Okay... —she nodded— I'll send the rest of the things via mail when you have a permanent place to live. Will you eat a lot? Please, eat a lot.

Y/n squeezed her mother's chin, trying to calm her down before she hugged her tight one last time, before she moved to her brother and the little kids.

—I made you this —George, the oldest of the two, raised the drawing to her.

It was a malformed version of herself, with an coloured version of her two nephews, in a garden. It was such a small thing, but so meaningful, that she had to fight hard her instincts to tear up.

—Come here.

Holding the two brothers, she squeezed George and John in a big hug, while she made them promise they'd behave well while she was away.

—And you need to bring us sweets —John added.

—I will.

The hug later went to Sullivan, and shortly after to Rachel, who patted her bag while kept insisting on how she was able to deal with anything she proposed herself to.

—The baby of the group —Lizzie pouted when Y/n first stepped in their direction.

Their group hug was filled with promises that they'd text each other every day and keep one another updated on everything that happened in their lives. It was a hug that assured the four of them their friendship would go on, it didn't matter where one of them was.

Although Y/n's eyes didn't start to actually tear up until she saw her father's eyes water, looking glistening under the bright light of the airport. He hugged her like he didn't want to let her go, and it'd be a lie if he ever had said it wasn't his intention as he held her for the last time in a long while.

—You'll do great —he assured her, stepping back only to wipe her tears away with his thumbs—. And you look after her —he warned Wooyoung.

—Dad —she weakly laughed.

It was a painful and sad goodbye, that she knew she had to go through to step into the that new part of her life

14 notes · View notes

dandelionterminal · 2 months

Text

Invisible String Part 7 - Chapter 4: His Mate, Supreme

link to next part

TW: non-graphic descriptions of Grell attempting self-exit because for some reason that was a characteristic of Grell. They/them for Grell until she stops the butler shtick. I love Elizabeth so much, you have no idea. I would die for that girl.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

It was a peaceful day at the Phantomhive estate, despite them being host to the inept butler that was Grell Sutcliff. Adelaide could not put her finger on it, but she did not trust the bespeckled butler. Something about them seemed off.

At the moment, Bardroy was lounging in the estate's garden, listening to the strange butler prattle on about the success of the Funtom company. Adelaide sat a distance away, preparing French lessons with the help of Luca. The two strawberry blonds discussed what the earl needed to learn in order to succeed in imports and exports from France. The strange butler was trimming hedges with a large set of shears.

Suddenly, Tanaka appeared behind Grell, in a lucid and dignified state, and explained the origin of the Phantomhive manor’s current state. The servants all smiled and celebrated Tanaka being in his more dignified state.

As Tanaka discussed the fall of the old Phantomhive manor, Adelaide could not help but notice the similarities between the Phantomhive manor’s destruction and her own family’s demise. A great fire, a miraculous survivor… it was all eerily similar to that night all that time ago.

As Tanaka deflated, Adelaide looked up from her work to notice Grell’s handiwork on the shrubbery. “Excuse-moi…” she started. “But why is all the foliage shaped like skulls?”

This question sent the servants and Grell spiraling. Grell dramatically flung themselves at a tree, attempting to hang themselves from one of the branches. The servants worked to get him down as Adelaide stood from her seat and dusted her gown off.

Suddenly, a pale, small hand with a bright orange bell sleeve reached up and pulled the steps out from under Grell.

As the doors of the mansion opened, the servants all came out in droves, flocking to their master and his butler. Stalling behind them was Adelaide, walking slowly and seemingly unbothered by the state of the manor house.

The servants were all dressed in absurd garments. The chef had a bonnet on his head and a bib around his neck, the gardener had bunny ears and limbs, Luca had bear ears and paws on, and Adelaide had cat ears and a tail. She pretended to be unbothered, but in truth her current state of dress was embarrassing her.

As the servants sobbed on the butler, he stared at Adelaide, causing her to pause in her steps. He took in the sight of his fated mate, still in her normal gown but her pinkish-hued hair was adorned in a fuzzy black headband with cat ears pointing out of it. Around her waist was a ribbon holding a fuzzy black tail. Her neck was additionally ornamented with a black lace choker with a jingling bell on it. Adelaide moved her arms up to her chest to cover herself in shyness, a faint blush coated her pale cheeks.

“Can you not look at me like that? C'est gênant…” Adelaide trailed off.

“Why on earth are all of you dressed like this?” Sebastian asked, looking at Bardroy who was clutching his collar.

“She’s crazy!” Bard shouted, pointing down the hall.

“Who?” Ciel asked before he was distracted by the sound of gurgling coming from the next room. Butler and master stuck their heads into the room to find Grell hanging by his neck from the ceiling. The servants of the house followed after them, hiding behind them. Luca and Finny could be seen hiding behind Bard while Adelaide hid behind Sebastian, instinctively and subconsciously gripping his tailcoat. The small action pleased the demon, knowing that his bond with his mate was growing.

“What the blazes are you doing now?!” Ciel shouted at Grell.

“I believe I am in the process of dying, currently, my lord,” Grell responded.

As Sebastian strolled over to take the strange butler down from the ceiling, a squealing blur streaked across the room towards Ciel. As the curly haired, blonde girl clung onto the lord of the house, the servants, including Adelaide, shrank away in fright. Luca continued to cling to Finnian and Adelaide took residence behind Bard now that the demon butler was not at her side. Adelaide turning towards Bard caused the demon butler to glower at the man.

The blonde girl clinging to Ciel rubbed her cheek against him and blabbered about how much she missed him.

“Oh Elizabeth what a surprise!” Ciel said awkwardly. The blonde girl pulled back at that with a beaming smile.

“Oh how many times must I tell you to call me Lizzie!” she said. She scooped him back into her arms “Oh you truly are just the cutest thing ever aren’t you? You darling boy I could just eat you right up!”

Sebastian did his best to mask his dislike of the young lady clinging to his prey as he drug Grell with him over to his master. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said, drawing the girl’s attention away from Ciel. Once the lady was drawn away from Ciel to greet the butler, Ciel turned away, exhausted by the affections of the blonde.

“Aww you took him down?” Elizabeth, Lizzie, said about Grell.

“Yes, I’m afraid he was detracting from the beauty of the room,” Sebastian said, attempting to placate the young lady.

The lady gasped in offense, “But I had made such a lovely decoration out of him!” she said.

Adelaide furrowed her brow from behind the chef. “A decoration?” she asked in shock. “What a morbid idea for a decoration…”

Lizzie beamed. “Yes! Look at it all! Isn’t the salon so cute now?” she gestured to the glittering and frilly decor she had put all over the salon. Stuffed animals, bows, glitter, tinsel, and pink paint littered the salon. Ciel frowned at the sight.

“My mansion is so pink now…” he said.

“From now on only the cutest things belong in the Phantomhive manor!” Lizzie declared. “Don’t you agree, Antoinette?” All eyes moved to Tanaka, whose head had been covered in a curly blond wig. Sebastian’s eyes showed the slightest bit of sympathy for Tanaka as he observed him. “Oh and I have a present for you too!” Elizabeth beamed as she threw a pink flowery bonnet on the butler’s head. “You’re always dressed in black so I thought this would be a nice change! What do you think?”

Adelaide and the servants had to fully turn around to hide their laughter. Adelaide stared at the butler over her shoulder, thinking about how endearing it was to see him be kind to the young lady. She saw the butler glaring over at the servants, trying to mask the harshness in his eyes when looking at Adelaide and just sending her a weary look. The servants all straightened up and stood at attention.

Sebastian smiled and bowed to the young lady “I am deeply honored that you would go to such length for a humble servant, Lady Elizabeth. Your generosity is overwhelming,” he said with a plastered-on smile.

As Ciel questioned the lady about how she came to be at the manor, Adelaide approached Sebastian. The bell around her neck jingled as she approached, causing her to groan in exasperation.

“Monsieur Sebastian,” she began, gesturing for him to bend down so she could whisper in his ear. The butler fought the blush that rose to his cheeks at seeing her in the cat accessories and bent to her level. “Who is the young lady? All the servants and I have been going along with her antics, but we haven’t the faintest who she is to the master.”

Sebastian smirked at the opportunity that presented itself. He whispered in her ear “She is the master’s fiancee. By the way, I absolutely adore cats.” The seductive tone in his voice combined with the heat of his breath caused Adelaide to flush pink up to her ears and back away.

“So what is the young lady’s name?” she asked, trying to put the conversation back on track.

“Ah, she is the daughter of the Marquess of Scotney, Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford of Scotney, the master’s fiancee,” Sebastian said, straightening his tie.

All the servants popped up in shock. “The master is marrying her?” Bardroy growled out.

“Is that a problem?” Sebastian asked. “Nobles marry other nobles.”

Elizabeth spun around in her dress. “I know! Now that the manor is so prettily decorated, we should hold a ball tonight!” She strutted over to Ciel, despite his apparent displeasure and protests. “You can be my escort and we can dance around all evening,” she spun the earl around before hugging him. “You’ll wear the clothes I selected for you right? Pretty please? You’ll look so dashing, I promise!” Ciel began to protest before the lady turned away, “And of course I’ll be dressed up too!” the lady ran up to Adelaide and grabbed her arm. “And you come with me! I want to make you even cuter than you already are!”

“Pardon? Ah!” Adelaide protested before she was pulled away by the curly haired blonde, Sebastian trying to suppress the snarl that was forming in his chest at his mate being taken away from him.

In one of the guest suites, Elizabeth had Adelaide sat in front of her as she brushed her hair.

“So tell me, miss governess, what brought you to the Phantomhive manor?” she asked.

“Pardon? I don’t believe I understand…” Adelaide asked. “I simply work for the earl tutoring him in French and other subjects…” she tried to mask her discomfort and the probing questions she could feel coming.

“I’m not as dense as I seem to be, you know?” Elizabeth said, holding some bows up to Adelaide’s hair to see how they would look. “No noble in their right mind would hire such a strange staff unless there were ulterior motives. I know Ciel’s business is difficult, the staff must be exceptional. So what makes you exceptional?”

“I truly am not, my lady,” Adelaide said, tolerating the poofy white bows that Lizzie was putting on her cat ears. “Lord Phantomhive welcomed my brother and me in out of kindness, nothing more.”

Lizzie hummed, putting some flowers in her hair. “If you insist, miss governess,” she said. “Now let’s get you dressed! Sebastian is most smitten with you, we must make you cute to draw his eye!” she declared while clapping her hands together. “Oh I believe you are mistaken, mademoiselle,” Adelaide said. “Sebastian is not interested in me in that way.”

“With how pale your skin is white would wash you out,” Elizabeth said, ignoring Adelaide’s comments. “I think some green would look excellent on you and bring out your eyes. Oh, I just know Sebastian is going to fall for you!”

Before she knew it, Adelaide was swept away by the girl and shoved into a frilly moss-green dress with ruffled sleeves and bows on the bodice. She could not escape the cat accessories either. Elizabeth insisted they made her “cuter”. She just knew that Sebastian would laugh at her that night.

“I just know Ciel will look dashing when he appears,” Elizabeth prattled on to Mey-Rin and Adelaide. “Blue is his color, it brings out his eyes so well.” Lizzie was dressed in a crimson evening gown with pink accents and lace trimming. When Ciel appeared, telling her to leave the women alone, she dashed over to him, gushing about how adorable he looked. She spun the boy around in circles. When she ceased the spinning and gushing she developed a murderous look on her face. “Ciel… where is the ring I bought you?”

“The ring I already have is fine,” Ciel said, ignoring her.

“But the ring I bought matches your outfit perfectly! This one isn’t cute at all! I just want everything to be perfect…” she trailed off.

“That’s not it… Lizzie this ring is-” Ciel started before Elizabeth snatched the ring off his finger.

“Hah! Fooled you! It’s mine now!” Lizzie declared.

“My lady you should give that back…” Adelaide began.

“Give it back Elizabeth,” Ciel snapped. “Now.”

“Why is everyone so protective of this ring?” Elizabeth asked. “It’s far too big for you… You’re ruining our evening! Take it!” she threw the ring on the ground, shattering the stone and separating it from the band.

Ciel was overcome with anger at the sight and dashed forward, arm raised to hit the young lady. Adelaide rushed forward and blocked the girl from getting struck while Sebastian grabbed the boy’s arm in an attempt to calm the situation.

“Master,” Sebastian began, a stern look on his face. “You forgot your walking stick that we went to so much trouble to get today.” Ciel panted in anger, trying to ground himself as his fiancee trembled in front of him. Sebastian put the walking stick in the boy’s hand and approached his mate and the young lady she was guarding. Adelaide stuck her arm out to protect the sniffling girl. Sebastian put a hand on his heart before explaining the situation to Elizabeth. “Forgive my master, Lady Elizabeth, but that ring was a precious heirloom passed down to the head of the Phantomhive household. He has grown quite attached to it, so please try to understand why he was so upset.”

Elizabeth gasped. “It was that important? And I destroyed it?” Ciel picked up the remnants of the ring and approached an open window in the ballroom. “Ciel please I didn’t know-” Lizzie began before gasping as he threw the ring out the window. Elizabeth dashed over to the window. “What are you doing?” she asked in shock.

“It was nothing but an old ring after all,” Ciel said. “It does not change the fact that I am head of the household.” As Ciel declared this with pride, Sebastian smirked at the boy. Ciel turned to his sniveling fiancee “How long are you going to cry?”

“I-I’m sorry-” Lizzie said, meeting his eyes.

“Your face is a mess, completely unsuited for a lady,” Ciel said, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. “How can I ask a lady with tears in her eyes to dance?”

The lady’s eyes widened in surprise. “To dance?” As she asked that, violin music began to play, courtesy of Grell.

“So then we are in agreement to forget our worries and dance the night away?” Ciel asked his future wife. The lady beamed and nodded.

As the two teens spun around the room, Sebastian approached Adelaide and bowed at the waist with an extended hand. “Lady DuPont, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

“Ah umm…” she started. “I am not a good dancer. I may have attended balls, but I did so for social climbing…” she explained.

“Ah it is lucky for you then that I am one hell of a dance leader,” Sebastian said. “Please do me the honor of leading you on the dance floor.”

Adelaide sighed but took his hand. “Just this once,” she said. “It is humiliating enough to be forced into this garb.”

“Yet you still look lovely,” Sebastian said as he began to lead her in a waltz.

“Do not lie to me, demon, I know you mock me,” she said to him with a glare.

“I do not lie, my lady,” the butler said. “I told you earlier, I do so love cats.” He took a hand off her waist to poke the bell on her neck, causing her to blush. “That is quite enough,” she said, eyeing Lizzie’s beaming expression as she watched the two of them. “You should use your powers to fix the ring.”

“I already planned on it, my lady,” he said. “My master cannot go without his status symbol.”

Adelaide nodded. “Another thing,” she said. “Is Grell a bit... Peculiar to you? As if they are not… human?”

Sebastian nodded. “I had noticed as well,” he said. “I will investigate it, do not worry. You are safe here. Which reminds me…” he reached into his breast pocket as the song ended. All eyes were glued on the pair as he brought out a gift box and opened it. He pulled out a black chain with a shining black feather pendant on it. “A gift,” he said, handing it to her.

Adelaide could feel the sparkling eyes of the audience and began to think critically. She had questions, but could not ask in the silence. “Put it on for me?” she asked, turning her back to the demon.

He placed the chain around her neck and she whispered in French, “À quoi ça sert?”

“Cela te protégera quand je ne pourrai pas être là. Il est imprégné de mon énergie,” he responded in an equally hushed tone.

Adelaide looked at the demon quizzically as he pulled away. “Merci beaucoup,” she said as Lizzie ran up to her and hugged her, gushing about how romantic the scenario was.

All in all, it was a disastrous evening in the Phantomhive house.

Notes:

Translations: C'est gênant - it's embarrassing À quoi ça sert? - what is this for? Cela te protégera quand je ne pourrai pas être là. Il est imprégné de mon énergie - It will protect you when I can't be there. It is infused with my energy. I am almost fluent in French but I did not know the words "protect", "infused", or "energy" so I had to use Google Translate for the last sentence. Next chapters we finally enter the Jack the Ripper arc!

#sebastian x oc #black butler #dandelion.text #kuroshitsuji #sebastian x reader #cross posted on ao3 #tw: self destruction #tw: suicide mention

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