#sun showers are beautiful and that's the sort of vibe i was hoping to give her
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yuri-is-online · 6 months ago
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I was thinking about Kailm and Kailm Yutu. How is their relationship after Yutu makes the jump into the past, did Yutu ever run into him before going into the past?
I know you mentioned Kalim wanting to help Yutu out when it comes to his feelings towards Yuu (not knowing that this is the only time he’s ever seen Yuu healthy and without memory loss) which is really of sweet❤️ also Jamil side eyeing the Yutu since they don’t know a lot about him
(he’s probably considered using his unique magic on him) I can also see Yutu being a mellowed out version of Kalim.
As we talked about here Kalim died long before Yutu ever got a chance to meet him, but he was spared the fate of becoming a blot phantom like most of the other boys. The Kalim his Yutu sees is a skeleton trapped in the robe of the Sorcerer of the Sands next to Jamil's, it's traumatic but by the time he gets there Yutu has seen a lot of death and destruction. Not that it dulls the pain any.
And one small note before we continue, Jamil states in Book 6 that his unique magic does not work like Jade's does, he cannot get people to tell him the truth by hypnotizing them, he just makes the suggestible to his orders. When he thought he hypnotized Azul in Book 4, he would not have been able to make him tell everything he knew about everyone on campus, but he would have been able to order him to open up his books so Jamil could take a look around. Jamil is decent enough at reading people's body's language to know that Yutu is interested in getting close to Kalim, and that's enough to make him suspicious and someone to watch out for.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.
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Kalim! Yutu was the picture of an easy baby. He was almost always smiles and giggles from the day he was born, seldom fussy and went down for naps easy, Yuu got a lot of comments about how lucky they were for having such a sweet baby. He keeps that easy going temperament as he gets older and the compliments keep coming, but Yutu isn't exactly fond of them. If people really think he's such a sweet boy they can compliment him without insulting his parent.
A lot of Kalim's pushiness, from my perspective, comes from the environment in which he was raised. In the absence of servants and siblings, Yutu turns into a much quieter person. He's less like a party and more like a cafe in the afternoon, still busy and filled with noise but with a noticeably relaxing effect on his environment. His peers like him and their parents like him more, and though Yutu makes a point to be nice to everyone he is very picky about who he labels his friends.
To Kalim! Yutu, your amnesia and the strange pain you feel when trying to remember is a serious medical issue, and he doesn't have a lot of patience for people who dismiss other's problems just because they don't understand them. He appreciates the little things you can tell him about his dad, how he was genuinely loving and kind person, but he doesn't want to know about those things if it causes your condition to worsen when you try to remember. As he gets older he tries to actively shut down conversation about his dad because he doesn't want to deal with the consequences. He remembers those little anecdotes from when he was younger and holds on to them tightly, kind and loving it's generic but the soft look in your eyes suggests the quality was anything but. Yutu can live with that.
He's very passionate about food and drink. He's not exactly a great cook but he's very knowledgeable about coffee, teas, and wines. He is especially fond of coffee and likes roasting his own beans when he gets older. If Yuu like coffee then he constantly is trying to make you new drinks and if you don't then he'll try to find something he can make that you will enjoy. Even if that's just slicing up some fruits and adding them to a lemonade, though he might feel a bit sad at how little work that is compared to something else.
Less of a party person than Kalim, though that's not really saying much since it seems like he'd have a celebration every other day of the week if he could. Yutu likes to sing and dance, especially if he can do that with his friends, but he doesn't like a lot of the people he goes to school with in his world. When he arrives in Twisted Wonderland that changes somewhat. There might not be much to celebrate in the future but the people are worth their weight in gold. When he manages to track down all of his friends who came back to the past with him, he's definitely going to throw a party in Ramshackle. After he begs for permission of course.
Being transported to Twisted Wonderland scares Kalim! Yutu. Learning that his father was the heir to a powerful merchant family (not that they have much of that power or wealth anymore on account of the world ending) and that he is a mage of all things is a lot of responsibility he is not sure that he's prepared for. He is especially not prepared for the amount of in fighting that the al Asim family is doing, though he does have a bit of help from Grandpa Crewel and his aunt.
One of the o.c.s I came up with for this au was a younger sister for Kalim. The youngest of all his siblings to be specific, the name I gave her was Sehrish and her existence is not exclusive to Kalim! Yutu. She goes back in time with all of the other Yutus too, but she is especially close to Kalim! Yutu. They have the same struggle of wanting to honor Kalim's legacy, but being skeptical about the hatred a lot of the older family members have for Jamil. Sehrish was too young to really remember either Kalim or Jamil, but everyone she's talked to who actually bothered to get to know her older brother said that he never hated Jamil. Crewel especially was very blunt about how he saw the Asim family's treatment of Jamil and what it meant for him professionally, and Idia is very clear that no matter what might have happened while they were at NRC it had nothing to do with this current mess.
It's something that Yutu keeps in mind when he travels back in time, but fuck if he doesn't find Jamil scary. He swears if he stays too long in the same room with him he's going to end up confessing to everything. That he's from the future, that Kalim is his dad, that time he broke something really important and expensive of yours and buried it in the back yard instead of just owning up to it, and that Jamil is going to be executed by the al Asim's sometime in the future. Not that he does say any of that but it's on a constant loop in his head every time Jamil is around. Which tends to be when Kalim is also around which makes things so much worse.
Kalim really likes Yutu. Every time I sit down to write for him and take a look at his voice lines I am reminded of what a genuinely nice and loving person he is, and how much he really cares about Yuu. He's warm, and knowing a part of that warmth is what created you makes Yutu feel so overwhelmingly loved even though Kalim doesn't know who he is. Yutu's calmer kindness is something Kalim really admires and looks up to, he's trying to be more aware of how imposing he can be on people and he thinks Yutu is a great example of the balance he wants to reach.
"oh?" Yutu does not seem happy with the compliment, even if Kalim can tell he is pleased by it. "I appreciate you saying so, but I'm not sure if you'll pick up on what you want from watching me... perhaps this is something you could talk to Yuu about? I find that they often give very good advice."
"They do don't they?" But if Yutu really believes that then why is he so sad about it?
Kalim wants to make people happy. That's the entire reason he throws so many parties and why he is so willing to spend money on his friends. So when he sees that something about being around Yuu is making Yutu sad, he wants to know what he can do to help. Jamil picks up on this and tries to point out that it might be a very private thing and none of their business, which would be true under normal circumstances but Yutu's very much aren't. At first Kalim just tries to focus on getting to know Yutu and his hobbies while sharing his own. He invites him to Scarabia's parties and gets real excited when he sees how much Yutu knows about tea. That's really important in the Scalding Sands! He insists on teaching him all about what he knows and for him to talk to Jamil if he has any other questions. This is what finally gets Jamil to relax around Yutu because he sees how the kid goes out of his way to not make work for him, pretty much exactly like Yuu does, which is a good point in Jamil's book.
I like the idea of Kalim learning who Yutu is on accident, he has a lot of voice lines about offering to tie a head scarf for Yuu so I could see him maybe offering the same for Yutu. And given that Kalim can be a bit pushy maybe he doesn't listen to Yutu's protests and takes off the hood, giving him and Jamil a very good look at his face.
"Oh wow you kind of look like me, huh?!" Kalim laughs and sets about wrapping the scarf around Yutu's head, while Jamil stares at him in such stressed shock that Yutu knows he's not getting out of this by lying. "We could be related!"
"That's- I'm really sorry!!!" Yutu instantly bows in apology to Jamil messing up Kalim's work.
"H-hey no need to do that!" The tone of Jamil's voice brings Kalim down to earth as he looks a bit closer at Yutu, and then towards Yuu for a long, good look and then back to Yutu again.
Yutu has to explain himself to everyone a few times before they fully understand what's going on. He has the benefit of being able to use Oasis Maker, which proves that he is very much a member of the al-Asim family, and his extensive knowledge of Yuu's world proves his story is true (as if Kalim's excited tackle hug at hearing Yutu just say "you are my dad and Yuu is my parent" didn't) but the idea of a future like he is describing is really difficult for Kalim to comprehend, let alone Jamil and Yuu. Jamil is especially shocked that Yutu doesn't hate him and sees him as someone who deserves to be protected. I could see him actually saying that he sees it as his responsibility as the heir of the al-Asim family and while Jamil doesn't trust the purity of Kalim's intentions, he does trust Yuu's. And after a brief bit of consideration, he decides he'll extend that trust to Yutu too. Still thinks he's surrounded by idiots though.
Of course Kalim wants to throw a party upon learning that he and Yuu get together and have a kid. It's literally one of the most important things he could ever celebrate, but instead of doing it on short notice it's something he decides to plan with a very specific purpose. If what Yutu is saying is true about the future then he's going to need help. Jamil is very smart, but Kalim somehow doubts that he'll have all of the resources he needs to prevent the end of the apocalypse if he's asked to do it on his own. The planning is a joint effort between Kalim, Yutu, and Jamil to pick who best to let in on the secret out of all their NRC classmates. Kalim promises to hold off on other party planning so Jamil can focus on this, he'd rather have all of the time in the world to spoil his spouse and son instead of the few short years he has at NRC.
Speaking of Yuu, Kalim is very worried about how you feel about all of this. Are you afraid of what Yutu told you? Does it make you question staying in Twisted Wonderland, or your relationship with him? He still really wants to be with you, there's a lot of stuff he still doesn't know about you yet that he desperately wants to, and so much about himself that he wants to offer up. I think upon learning about Yutu's existence he would ask to talk to you alone and tell you very honestly about how he feels about you. He wishes to be yours for time and all eternity, and he is willing to wait and put in the work to be worthy of you and your trust. Yes he says this even if you aren't together yet and yes he means it, especially the waiting bit.
Kalim is already such a supportive, if overindulgent, person and that carries in to how he is as a father. Sure he's not the smartest person in the world, but he knows how to get people on his side. I feel like he sees it as his role to worry about the future and not Yutu's, but he also accepts that because Yutu didn't grow up with him that he might not be willing to let Kalim take up his burdens. That won't stop him from trying to get him to relax, from what Yutu told him he never really got to experience the Scalding Sands and that just won't do. While a trip home isn't on the table right now, he can still teach Yutu everything he knows, hopefully he'll find pride and comfort in knowing about where his father is from and it will replenish his motivation to fight. First order of business on that list? Introducing him to the magic carpet and taking him for a ride!
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montrealmadison · 8 months ago
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I'd love to read a happy snuggly fic about Bitty & Jack.
Number #15 (for Bitty 😉)
thank you for this delightful prompt! whenever i get stuck on where to start with jack and bitty, i always revert to them snuggling. this was a really nice excuse to polish a scene that i've had kicking around my WIP folder forever. hope it's okay that the boys took it in a, shall we say, steamy direction. ❤️
15. zimbits + happy snuggly vibes + I Love You Always Forever by Betty Who for @jadedmandarin81
You’ve got the most unbelievable blue eyes I’ve ever seen You’ve got me almost melting away
Hot morning sun on his shoulders, a big, hot hand on the small of his back, and Bitty has no clue where he is.
He blinks, and—right. His childhood bedroom, sometime after sunrise: lemon-yellow walls, a mess of posters, crisp white curtains hanging limp from the humidity. It can’t be very late, because Coach’s morning shower isn’t whining through the walls yet. July fifth dawns the same every blessed year: Mama having a lie-in, Coach firing up the truck, long lazy days of few words and a blue sky and a beer that Bitty's too young to be drinking. Lord, what he wouldn’t give to be fifteen and at the lake right now, cold water closing over his head. 
He brings himself slowly back to earth by wishing really hard that the Olympic-sized rink behind Michelle Kwan’s paper smile would just sort of… replace the air conditioner they haven’t been able to afford to fix for years. As it stands, he’s fucking hot.
Jack, for all that he’s peaceful in sleep, is not helping. Bitty’s cheek is stuck to his bare chest, his massive thighs are trapping Bitty’s calves, and every inch of bare skin in between is tacky and gross. The Jack of his dreams is so tangled up with the call of the ice that he feels like he should be cold by default. Jack should be white and gray and blue; frosted winter mornings, distant sun, minty breath. The Jack of reality is—well, he’s beautiful, dark sweeping lashes and all that, but he’s just as sweaty as Bitty is and his breath definitely does not smell like mint.
Bitty doesn’t mind.
read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here
He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. From the moment they’d locked eyes at baggage claim, this weekend has been the weirdest song and dance: Bitty letting Jack into his life inch by inch, arranging the pieces of his soul for approval. Here’s where I went to high school. Here’s our family dinner table. Here’s my truck bed. Let’s make out. In return, apparently, he gets to have this now: his college hockey captain, on his back in Bitty’s bed, breathing slow and deep and measured with his hand skimming Bitty’s ass. 
That’s my best friend. The thought makes Bitty feel floaty and weird. He knows Jack’s gym schedule and the slant of his real smile and what he eats for breakfast, but he’s only seen him sleep once: the morning of graduation, when they’d climbed up to the roof of Faber and Bitty had woken up on Jack’s shoulder, in the folds of a jacket that smelled like him.
He hadn’t let himself believe, even then, that they might be more. After all, the thing about Jack is that sooner or later he’s always stopped being Jack and turned back into Jack Zimmermann, a living legend in the shape of a teammate. Bitty had pretended it was easy, once, not to lean into the intimacy of knowing just a little more than everyone else. It feels new and exhilarating and dangerous for him to get to see Jack like this now, all pretenses abandoned, one of his wildest fantasies come to life.
Jack chooses that moment to stir, like he can hear Bitty’s thoughts shouting his name. Bitty feels the flush rising in his cheeks, embarrassed that Jack’s caught him staring—but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, just lets out a long satisfied breath through his nose and murmurs, morning-low, “Bittle.”
Lord, but that makes something pop in Bitty’s gut and then fizzle into butterflies. Before last night he’d never even really been kissed before, and now—and now. His senses are overloaded, filled with the flash-fire knowledge that at long last someone else wants this as badly as he does. 
“Jack,” he says, sure that his morning voice must sound squeaky and childish in comparison.
But Jack’s eyes on his face are sleepy dark blue, weighty with something that looks a hell of a lot like approval. Bitty follows the slow roll of Jack’s Adam’s apple so he won’t do something really embarrassing, like explode and die. 
“Bitty,” Jack sighs again. Jesus Christ. There go Bitty’s chances of getting out of this bed alive. “‘S’hot.”
“Yes,” Bitty grumps, but neither of them make a move to separate. That self-satisfied thing flashes through him again. Jack is, apparently, so into this, into him; the bruises to prove it are probably already darkening low on his belly and hips. Being watched this way makes Bitty feel slightly insane, drunk with power.
“I like this,” Jack says. His voice rumbles, far-off thunder. Bitty thinks about flash floods, dams breaking, the crackshot sound of shattering ice. 
“What?”
“Waking up with you.”
There’s the sincerity that’s been driving Bitty wild all weekend. He’s long since mastered the art of lying smoothly through his teeth, but Jack’s graceless honesty punches holes through every pretense he can muster. It’s how Jack got him on his back in the truck bed last night, why they apparently can’t stop talking unless they find other ways to occupy their mouths. Just like that, Bitty's cheeks are in full flame.
“Me too,” he says, too quickly. Jack doesn’t seem to notice. His arms are huge, and Bitty is welcome in them. He feels positively unhinged. He has zero desire to move.
“Do we have to get up?”
“Probably,” Bitty groans, seizing the change of topic with both hands. He thunks his forehead into Jack’s shoulder for emphasis. “Coach’ll be up soon.”
“‘Kay,” says Jack, not moving one blessed inch.
Bitty squirms a little, thrilled. They keep ending up on the same page, wanting the same things. Feeling bold, Bitty mouths over the hot expanse of skin between Jack's shoulder and his neck, loving the way Jack immediately makes that pleased sound deep in his throat. 
"Sorry."
“For��ah." 
Jack honest-to-god moans when Bitty reaches the spot beneath his ear, and that's it: Bitty's deceased. He's gone. He's gonna die right here in his childhood bedroom, and he'll be damn well pleased about it. "Don't be—sorry for what?”
“That it’s not private,” Bitty murmurs. He waves his free hand toward the door, beyond which his parents hopefully believe that Bitty and his good friend Jack are passed out in separate rooms after the (completely tame, very platonic) excitement of last night's festivities. It seems like a tall order even in his head. He's gonna have to spend the next month before he goes back to school being very careful about the thoughts he lets show on his face.
When Bitty flexes his toes against Jack's bare leg under the sheets to prompt an answer, Jack hums a little, turns and drags his nose lightly across Bitty's forehead. "Don’t be sorry,” he says. “Actually, I was thinking about that last night."
"You were? Huh," Bitty says. "Sounds like I didn't do a very good job, then."
Jack gives him a gentle, one-handed shove. "After... uh, well. After that." He blushes so pretty, right over his nose and hot up his cheeks. Bitty kind of wants to eat him whole. "What would you say about coming to visit me?"
Forget what he’d say; Bitty can barely even think about it without going insane. Just the two of them, alone, four soundproof walls and a chance to figure this out for real. "In Providence?"
"Yes,” Jack says. “And we can do, um. More. Of what we did last night.”
Bitty is acutely aware of Jack’s hand, which is now rubbing little circles into his back, and all the other places it was last night, and how much he’d like for it to be in those places again.
“Yes, okay,” he says, too quickly to be polite; Jack is grinning, though, so. Right answer.
"Deal."
Bitty smiles back, megawatt. "Deal."
"First I have to make it home, though," Jack says. "Got a whole kitchen to get ready for you, eh?"
He says get ready like it has multiple meanings, and Bitty gets to pick the one he wants. Despite the heat, he finds himself shivering in anticipation.
"Sounds amazing," Bitty says, definitely not just talking about the kitchen. He shoves Jack back, teasing. This is his best friend and so much more. "Then you better get packin', mister, you got a flight to catch."
When the alarm clock goes off down the hall, Jack rolls out of bed and goes for his bag, sleepy chirps in full effect. Bitty stays put, though, watching. The sun catches just right on the hard planes of Jack’s shoulders, melting winter into spring, and Bitty is okay with losing control.
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dclsbaby · 4 years ago
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mykonos-crossed lovers (part i) 🦋
🎶 playlist for part i
prologue
part ii
part iii
part iv
Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: angst?
Author’s Note: hi everyone, thank you so so much for the responses to the prologue! I am so overwhelmed and did not expect to receive so much kindness it makes me wanna cry hahaha 🥺 thank you a thousand times over! and if this is your first time getting to know the fic, I highly suggest you read the prologue before diving into part 1! This chapter is sort of a filler chapter (I know it has 2.6k words lol), it shows how (y/n) have been doing since the break up & how the trip came about, I hope it’ll make sense once you read it 🤍 thanks for reading x
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It’s been months since you last spoke to him. Him. The thought of him still hurts. The idea of him existing without you, hurts. As much as you try to fight it, you still remember him like the back of your hand. You could draw on paper the contours of his face by memory, by instinct, like remembering your way home. He was a love you have never experienced before. Something about his magnetism seemed impossible to resist.
You and Dominic broke up nearly half a year ago. Your hopes of an amicable breakup were destroyed by him. His confusion, his anger, his frustration made it impossible for you two to stay friends. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being just a friend to you when his entire heart belongs to you. He called you selfish for leaving, he called you stubborn for having your mind made up without letting him put up a fight when he was ready to battle anyone, even you, to save your relationship.
The first few months were difficult, but the first few weeks were excruciating. You barely ate, as the numbing in the pit of your stomach constantly made you nauseous that your body couldn’t digest anything you ate. You couldn’t bring yourself to shower and get dressed, and spent days laying in bed, wallowing in sadness. Overtime, you just learn to live with the pain.
Since then, you’ve had good days, and slowly but surely stopped faking smiles and replaced them with genuine ones. But your bad days felt like hell, with your mind often teasing you with memories of him that you’ve suppressed enough to compartmentalise, then it comes back to you all at once, and consumes your entire soul. The pain is suffocating, like being crush by tidal waves, leaving you no time to run for shore, the waters dragging you, pulling you in many directions. All you could do was be still, stay paralysed, and pray that it goes away. That’s what remembering him felt like.
Then on other days, you often wonder how you were able to manage all this, with the pain still fresh whenever you think about it, but I guess we’re all guilty of pushing our feelings to the side and pretending that everything’s alright, when it’s the opposite. You’re still alive, despite it all. But you want to live, not just survive.
The truth is, you did not leave because you fell out of love. In fact, you were too in love—it’s a crime. He was your entire life. Days were spent waiting for him to come home from training and matches. Missing him during away games. Your entire happiness depended on him, and that terrified you. You weren’t happy with yourself either, and expected more out of your life. The burden of having a prosperous career, a stable income, a life for yourself that you loved, becoming too heavy to bear. You had all these dreams and goals set for yourself that you never got to actualise so you could be by his side. Your love for him was insurmountable, that you couldn’t accommodate anything for yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you will always put him first. It was natural. Even though he never asked for all your attention, you couldn't simply choose between yourself or him, because you would always choose him. Over and over.
So you did what you had to do, break your own heart, and his, to love yourself.
Since your breakup, you finally moved out of your friend’s place and got yourself a nice two-bedroom flat at the city centre with a stunning view of the city. You landed yourself a job as a junior editor for British Vogue that demands commuting to London several days a week. As you thrive in difficult situations, the breakup forced you to submerge yourself in work, mainly to avoid the pain, but it propelled you to get to where you are.
Trying to get over someone who is in the public eye was a different battle. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he’s there. You see him on billboards, TV screens, his face painted on murals, quickly becoming a tourist site. Occasionally, you would watch his games out of habit, and listen to the prideful Evertonian crowd chant his name. You witnessed his first England senior team debut, and tuned in to England v. Wales on the TV for old time’s sake. You watched him score his first senior England goal behind a screen. Your eyes welled at sight of him living his dream, poaching the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game, making his country and family proud. You feel the rush of adrenaline he felt as he ran to his teammates and celebrated. You can’t help but share this sense of pride, as you’ve watched firsthand how hard he has worked to get to where he is.
But on days where he isn’t on your mind, you do not want to be reminded of him. It’s difficult to cope when you encounter pieces of him that takes you back to the worst day of your life, and his.
Like last night, for instance. You had been scrolling on your social media when it was brought to your attention that a magazine had published an issue with your ex on the front cover, spotted on a night out with a blonde you don’t personally know but you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before. Perhaps another one of those so-called “influencers”, you thought to yourself. You know that you have no right to feel jealous or upset, as you broke up with him and this was bound to happen, but selfishly, a part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone else, or at least not before you did. You’re frustrated at yourself for letting him have this effect on you even months after your break up.
Succumbing to your bad habits, you give in to your impulses and pop open a bottle of red wine to calm your growing anxiety. Two glasses of wine, a takeout, and a season of Gossip Girl later, you find yourself slightly drunk, nerves calmed, and a little drowsy so you quickly change into your satin pyjamas and tuck yourself in bed.
You decide to turn on the TV for some background noise and quickly close your eyes. By some twist of fate, you hear a painfully familiar voice giving his thoughts at the end of a game he’s won. The sheer volume of his voice on the TV causes a sharp pain in your chest as you scramble to reach for your remote in the dark, with your eyes half opened. and change it to anything but a sports channel. That’s it, you thought to yourself. I need to get the fuck away.
Still drunk and not entirely aware of what you’re doing, you reach for your laptop on the nightstand. The brightness made your eyes squint a little bit, but you managed to type out a link and open a travel booking site, and scroll through different pictures of tropical islands you’re longing to get to. Anywhere but here, you thought. You selected options that you thought looked the blue-est, the most expensive, a party town, and had the most five star restaurants.
By the end of it you have booked a return flight to Mykonos for 5 people where you will be staying at a grand, luxurious 5-bedroom villa located at the party central of the island. You couldn’t be bothered to check how much it cost you. All sense of ration gets thrown out the window when you mix heartbreak with alcohol. When you told your friends of what you had just done, it was safe to say that they were surprised but absolutely ecstatic that you have booked a much needed getaway with the girls. With a three-day notice, you all quickly scramble through your closet and go on an online shopping spree to pick out your outfits for the holiday.
***
Days later, you find yourself landing on Mykonos island on a sunny afternoon.
“I can’t believe you’ve managed to pull all this off within days,” your friend says as you all walk through the pebbled entry way of your villa, and open the door. “Holy fucking shit,” another friend says in awe of the sight. The villa was filled with white interior, bright lights, wooden tables that give off beach vibes, and an infinity pool where you could swim as you watch the sunset, with a view of the blue sea. With 5 bedrooms to choose from, your friends collectively decided that you should take the master that had direct access to the pool, which you happily accepted but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as you’ll all probably stay in one room.
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Once you’ve unpacked, you pull out your white cardigan and make your way out the terrace to catch a view of the sunset and have a moment by yourself. You take a deep breath of the fresh air with a hint of sea breeze as you try to take in the stunning view of the island. You are filled with gratitude as you bear witness to something so beautiful as you watch the sun sink into the blue Aegean Sea. Despite the peacefulness exuded by the view, your heart can’t help but feel Dom. You remember when he had brought up wanting to spend this exact summer in Mykonos with you, but life had other plans.
***flashback***
Dom was laying in bed with his laptop screen on his chest, an arm to support his head as he scrolled through the travel booking site. He had been looking through different options, but he has his mind set on a lovely town in Greece, Dubai’s overrated after all, he thought.
“Me, you, blue skies, tanned skin, bike rides around town, what do you think love?” asked Dom. “Where’s this?” you ask, moving closer to him as he shows you his laptop screen. “Mykonos. It’s not too far away, I’ll have enough time to rest before pre-season starts,” he replies. “That sounds like a plan,” you smile at him. “But we’ll book it closer to the summer, yeah? In case anything comes up,” you said as you plant a kiss on his cheek. He nods as he bookmarks the site and drifts off to sleep with you shortly after.
Unbeknownst to you, later that night he quietly opened his laptop and quickly booked the trip for you two as a surprise. Anything that will come in the way will just have to be compromised. He was adamant to make sure he gives you the best summer of your life, it is what you deserve after all, he thought.
***
You had forgotten about your conversation with Dom until you stood on the island. Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend’s footsteps. “Hey, you okay babe? You’ve been out here for a while,” she asks with concerned eyes. “I’m alright,” you said. “Or I will be,” you add, giving your friend a forced smile. Your friend wraps her arm around your shoulders as you two make it back inside to have an early and quiet night with the girls, exhausted from all the travel.
***
The next day you woke up a little late, with only several hours to tan before having to get ready for your dinner reservation at one of Mykonos’s famous restaurants that looks over the sea. A little frustrated at yourself for sleeping in, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, put on some light makeup, and change into your swimwear.
You join your friends who are sprawled on the sunbeds. “So, where is this place again?” you asked your friend who booked the dinner. “A restaurant by the sea located at party central babe. Everybody, I mean everybody goes here. They’ve got the best food and music,” she replies. “Think of Mamma Mia 1,” another friend chimes in. Your eyes widen at the imagery. “Better have some great alcohol too, I’m desperate for some,” you laugh. “That’s my girl,” your friend says.
***
By the late afternoon you and the girls are getting ready for dinner. Makeup bags and its contents sprawled on the floor, you had to tiptoe around makeup products and brushes, careful not to step on them. After long deliberation, you decided to dress up in co-ord that hugs your figure and fits you like a glove, paired with your favourite heels, settling for an elegant yet fun look. You decide to keep your hair down and put on some natural makeup to balance out the bold colour. After about 30 minutes of taking pictures of each other and some group photos, you finally made it out the door.
The location was spectacular. The ambience was complemented with bright lights to lighten the dim Mykonos sky that has turned a shade of dark blue, almost purple. The food was divine, a little overpriced for your liking, but it was worth it. The restaurant turns into a nightclub close to midnight, and you and your girls were eager to start your first round of drinks. Fruity drinks were passed around, made with fruits freshly picked from the gardens. Watermelon margarita was your drink of choice, partly sweet, partly sour, and just enough tequila as your first drink of the trip.
The restaurant was packed, you could’ve sworn you had seen a star of a Spanish series you’ve just finished watching on Netflix. The guests were well dressed, many had bravely eccentric taste, mixing patterns and sparkly jewellery, paired with funky footwear to add some flair. In Mykonos, you will not encounter the same judgment as you would walking down the streets back home.
Your friends stood up to dance the second the alcohol kicked in. You took your time, savouring your drink, wanting the night to last. You smile at the sight of your happy friends, so full of life, not giving a single care in the world. As you’re sitting there, observing people, you suddenly feel your chest get heavy. It’s hard to put into words what this feeling is like, but it pushes you to shut down in social settings, overwhelmed by strangers and loud music that makes your ears ring. It is a feeling of unexplained anxiety, where you need a second to correct your breathing, and calm yourself down. Not now, you thought, not here. You often feel these random bouts of emptiness since you left Dom. You try to push the discomfort away, and think of anything else but him. You stood up and walked to the edge of the restaurant by the white border wall to get some fresh air, and take in the view of calm waves under the night sky to collect some peace of mind.
You place your elbows on top of the border, and rest your head on the palms of your hands. A bystander would think that you’re a scene from a movie, a damsel in distress, longing for her love interest. But this was no movie, no fairytale, no knight in shining armour to protect you, no lover to sweep you off your feet.
Or so you thought.
Your focus on the sounds of splashing waves was interrupted by familiar footsteps, getting louder and louder as it creeps its way closer to you. The scent of the sea began to mix with an all too familiar scent of tobacco vanilla. Only one person came to mind. It can’t be, you thought.
“(Y/N)?,” his voice breaks.
It’s him.
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luvknow · 5 years ago
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parasitic | bang chan
genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL
The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.
A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.
“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”
She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls. 
“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!
“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”
“I have an exam this week.”
“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”
“So? I like to be prepared!”
“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”
“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”
“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”
“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”
“Suck my dick.”
“Too many STDs.”
Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”
“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.
Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.
“Morning ~” she sang cutely.
“I hate him.”
“He’s not that bad!”
“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”
Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.
“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”
“What does that even mean?”
“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”
“So? Don’t we all?”
“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”
“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”
“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”
“More like melodramatic.”
No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.
The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.
“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.
“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”
Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.
“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.
Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”
“I’ll show you kosher.”
“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”
Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”
“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.
When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?
“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”
“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”
“Hey!” he pouted.
“Oh, shut it!”
“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”
“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”
“Um... yes?”
“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”
“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”
“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”
“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.
“Yeah, ok.”
“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”
“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”
Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”
Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.
As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?
--
The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.
What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.
“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”
“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.
“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”
The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”
“Come on, dude!”
“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”
“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”
You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”
“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.
“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”
“That’s normal!”
“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”
“Yeri’s room.”
“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”
“That’s just a coincidence -”
“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”
“Well -”
“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”
“... I’m that obvious, huh?”
“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”
Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”
Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.
“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”
“My ass.”
“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.
“Ok, I’m leaving.”
“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”
“Always use my things.”
“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”
A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”
“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”
“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”
“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”
“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”
“I couldn’t have been that bad.”
“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”
“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”
“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”
“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”
Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”
“Yes. I want to start over.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”
“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”
You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”
A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”
“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”
“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”
“After you do my dishes.”
“... Fair enough.”
To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.
“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”
"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”
“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"
"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"
"As the captain, I sure hope so."
You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.
"Sure, I'll go."
"Really? I wasn't expecting that."
"Then why'd you bother asking?"
"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."
"Please don't call me homie."
"Ok, home skillet."
"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."
"Like, at all?"
"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"
"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."
Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.
--
"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"
"I have many regrets…"
"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"
"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."
"Yup, sounds like Christopher."
"So you're coming back soon, right…?"
"If soon means a couple of months, yes."
"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.
"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."
"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.
"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"
You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"
"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"
"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!
"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"
"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."
“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”
“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”
Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”
“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”
A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”
“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”
“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”
“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”
The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.
Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.
At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?
Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.
“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.
Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.
And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.
The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.
Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.
“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.
“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”
“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.
“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.
“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”
“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?
“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.
“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”
You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.
“Oh, uh…”
Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.
“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.
“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”
Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”
“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”
“Fine. Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t get too wild tonight.”
“No promises!”
Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.
“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.
“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”
He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”
“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”
“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”
“You’re so cruel, Channie.”
“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”
“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”
“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”
“I did not ask you to do that.”
“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”
“No, because there’s food at home.”
“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”
“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”
“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”
“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”
“Don’t sound too excited.”
“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”
Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.
“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.
“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”
“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”
“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”
“I think it was an avocado.”
“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”
“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”
“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”
Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.
“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.
The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.
“You are a child.”
“Baby me, baby.”
Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.
“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.
“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”
“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”
You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”
“You have ears, so yes.”
From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.
“Is this your new song?” you asked.
He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”
“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”
“Be gentle at least, please.”
“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”
“Right, right.”
Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.
“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”
“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”
“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.
“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”
“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”
“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”
A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?
“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.
“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”
“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”
“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”
With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.
“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.
“Not until you tell me what you think.”
“Well, of course it tastes good.”
“Really?”
“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”
A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.
Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”
“Wow, ok.”
You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.
“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.
“They who?”
“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.
“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”
“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”
“Hey!”
“And probably a virgin.”
Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”
“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”
“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”
“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”
“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”
“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”
You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”
“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”
“A whole semester of being blacked out.”
“Hey, that means nothing!”
“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”
“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”
“Anyone can guess that.”
“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”
“So do a lot of girls, next.”
“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”
You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”
“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”
“... S-So -”
“Ah ha, got one!” 
“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”
“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”
“How do you even know that?”
“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”
A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.
“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.
“They’re cute,” you pouted.
“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”
“Yeah, doing the dishes.”
“What!?”
“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.
A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.
His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.
--
A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?
Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!
But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?
Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?
Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.
Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.
“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”
“How can you tell?”
“You get that dumb look on your face.”
“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”
“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”
“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”
You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”
“I mean she kissed you… ?”
“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”
“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.
That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.
“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”
“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”
“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”
“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”
“How romantic…”
Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.
Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.
“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”
“Good for her.”
“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”
“Sike, I have some homework to do.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”
“Hey!”
“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”
“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.
An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”
“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”
“Then move faster.”
“You move faster…”
“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”
“Shut up.”
“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.
“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”
“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”
“Sometimes I wished I was.”
Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.
“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.
A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”
“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.
“Why what?”
“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”
“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”
“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”
“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”
“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”
“Thank you!”
“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”
“Ya like vinyl?”
“Huh?”
Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.
“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.
The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified. 
In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.
How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?
You hoped so.
Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”
Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”
He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.
“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.
A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.
“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.
“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”
“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.
He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?
Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?
Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.
You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.
“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.
“I wanna listen, too ~”
“Then go steal another set of headphones!”
“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”
You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.
Honestly, what’s there to complain about?
The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.
“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.
“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”
Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.
“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.
“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”
“How the hell did you come up with that?”
“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”
The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”
“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”
“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”
Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.
“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.
“Please stop lying,” you groaned.
“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”
“And that makes me likable how?”
Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”
“Yeah, to torture me.”
“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”
“Sike.”
“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”
Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”
“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”
“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”
Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”
“Stop.”
“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”
“Chan -”
“I bet you already have ~”
“Ok, I’m going to bed.”
“No, you aren’t!”
You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.
“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.
That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”
You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”
“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.
“Yeah, fighting.”
“Do you think it’s weird?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Please.”
His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.
“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.
“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.
--
The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.
You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?
Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.
“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.
He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.
“What are you -”
You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?
“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.
He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?
Then he took a huge step back to let you through.
“All yours,” he whispered.
Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.
For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?
At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.
And neither of you spoke up about it.
So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.
Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.
The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?
“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”
The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”
The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”
Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?
“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.
“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”
“Do you not consider her your date?”
“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”
“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”
“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”
“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”
You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”
“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”
“How?”
“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”
“Tch, no.”
“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”
“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”
“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”
No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.
“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.
“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”
Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?
A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!
Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.
You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with. 
You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.
“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!” 
“Sorry, I was about to knock!”
“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”
The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”
“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”
“Both.”
You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”
“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”
“What? Then why did you…?”
“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”
“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”
“Gladly.”
“_____, I like you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”
“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”
“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”
“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”
You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.
“Chan, stop!” you giggled.
“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”
“I like you!”
Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”
“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”
“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.
“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”
“As much as that burdens me, fine.”
“I like you, Bang Chan.”
“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”
“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.
“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”
“Sounds delightful.”
“Will you kiss me first?”
You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.
“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.
“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”
“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”
You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”
“Anything for you, princess.”
--
EPILOGUE
“You two are what!?”
You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.
“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.
“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”
“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”
Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”
“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”
“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”
“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”
“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”
“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.
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flowerfan2 · 3 years ago
Text
Clear Blue Morning
David/Patrick, 1400k, T.  A03.
(This little fic includes references to several songs - feel free to listen to them to get in the mood:  Swing Low, Sail High; and Light of a Clear Blue Morning.)
Summary:  David should be used to Patrick singing his feelings by now. It still gets him, every time, and makes him fall in love just a little bit more.
Quite some time after the open mic night that will live in infamy, David discovers that Patrick practices his guitar in the back room of the store early in the morning.  It’s a sure-fire strategy for avoiding David, because as everyone knows, David is not a morning person.  
David’s not sure that Patrick knows that he knows.  There are still days when Patrick rolls out of bed at an inappropriate hour to go hiking - David can tell, because when he returns and David buries his face in his neck, he smells like pine trees and sunshine.  And occasionally bug spray, which isn’t nearly as sexy.
One morning David wakes up to an empty bed, and squints unhappily at the clock.  It’s not even seven, but despite tossing and turning for what seems like hours, David hasn’t been able to fall back to sleep.  He’s got a crick in his back which might be a result of his and Patrick’s rather energetic activities the night before, a thought that makes him smile and press his face against his pillow.
He still can’t fall back asleep, though, and now he can’t ignore the need to pee any longer, so he reluctantly climbs out from under the covers.  His back is still twinging even after a hot shower, and he kneads it awkwardly over his shoulder.  What he really needs is Patrick to take care of this problem, Patrick with his strong hands and teasing fingers.
David checks the entryway and finds Patrick’s hiking boots waiting patiently for their next adventure. Excellent.  Because as much as David would like a massage right now, he’s not about to go climbing every mountain to get one.  But he is more than willing to show up early to work.
He stops at the café to pick up a coffee for himself and a tea for Patrick, and juggles them as he unlocks the front door to the store.  Inside he deposits their drinks on the counter and relocks the door - just because he and Patrick are there early it doesn’t mean that they are open for business.  Well, not that kind of business.  He smiles to himself, again, and feels his cheeks warm.  
David never really believed he’d have this kind of relationship, one where even thinking about the other person lights him up inside.  Where the things they do together don’t result in regrets, or shame.  It’s the simple, plain truth that Patrick makes him happy.  And David makes Patrick happy, hard as it is to believe.  It’s a happiness feedback loop.  David lets his smile squeeze his cheeks, and walks towards the back room to find his husband.
The door is cracked open, and David can hear Patrick singing along to his guitar.  It’s not a song he recognizes.  He pauses, listening.
I have failed you
I have failed you
I have lost my way, lost my nerve, I failed you. 
The song is folky, soft and lilting.  But most of all, it’s terribly sad.
But I love you
How I love you
I have turned my back, left you last, but I love you.
It makes David’s eyes well up.  Why is Patrick sitting alone in their store singing such a sad song?
Oh setting sun don’t sink before I’ve found my heart
Heart don’t give up now while there’s still time
Time don’t beat your old retreat, stay a little while with me
Til I’ve looked the whole thing in the eye.
David can’t hold back any longer.  “Patrick?”  He pushes the door open, and Patrick’s eyes flash up to his.  “Are you okay?”
Patrick smiles softly at him.  “Yeah.  Just… going over some stuff I haven’t played in a while.”  Patrick shifts over on the couch, and David melts down next to him, one hand going to Patrick’s shoulder.
“I don’t know this song.”
Patrick nods.  “It’s by the Wailin’ Jennys.  It’s supposed to be for three voices.  The harmonies are really beautiful.  I changed it around a bit-”
“Of course you did,” David murmurs.
“I think it came out pretty well.  Want to hear the rest?”
David’s not sure he does, but he knows that’s the wrong answer.  “Sure.”
Patrick strums for a measure or two, then starts singing again.  He gets to the chorus, “swing low, sail high,” and it’s lovely, the way his voice rises and the music weaves around the melody.
But then it’s back to the verse, unrelentingly sorrowful, even as the singer declares his love.
I have failed you, I have failed you
I have closed my heart and failed you
But I love you, how I love you
All my days will rearrange to say I love you.
Patrick glances up at David, and David feels the truth in the lyric.  His days have rearranged around Patrick, around their love.  
He can’t wait for Patrick to finish the song, he leans close and whispers in his ear.  “I love you.”
Patrick trails off and turns, his mouth moving against David’s skin.  “I know.  I love you too.”  Patrick kisses him, and kisses him again.  Before David knows it Patrick is in his lap, the guitar hastily placed on the ground and Patrick’s hands framing David’s face as they treat themselves to a before-work make-out session.
“Not that I’m complaining,” David says a little while later, while they are straightening their clothes and getting ready to open the store, “but what brought all that on?”
Patrick’s attention is suddenly focused on making sure that every bottle of lavender honey mead in the refrigerator is facing forward, and it takes him a moment to respond.
“I, um, I was moving some stuff around in the back room this morning, and I found this.”  He digs into his pocket and pulls something out, holding it up for David to see.
“My bracelet!  I wondered where that went.”  Probably got stuck behind the couch during a previous back room make-out session.  They’re not that uncommon.
“Yeah, well, it reminded me of that week, you know, when…”
“When you gave me all those olive branches.”
Patrick smiles his upside-down smile at David.  “All the gifts.”
David shrugs.  “Tomato, tomahto.”  But Patrick still looks more nervous than amused.  David closes the door to the refrigerator and puts his hands on Patrick’s shoulders.  “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”  
David’s eyes must give something away - he knows <i>nothing</i> rarely means <i>nothing</i> and Patrick hurries to clarify.
“No, it’s nothing bad, really.  I was just thinking about how worried I was, that I had screwed things up between us for good.  I learned this song that week.  I actually thought about singing it to you, but I could never really figure out how to fit it in.”
“A musical olive branch,” David says, swinging his hip against Patrick’s side and wrapping an arm around him to bring them closer.  “So you had the idea first?”
“It wouldn’t have been as sexy as yours,” Patrick says, and now he’s relaxing against David, his smile coming easily.  
“I am the reigning king of musical olive branches,” David says, and Patrick snorts at him.
“I don’t think musical olive branch competitions should be a thing.”
“But if they were,” David says, moving in to kiss Patrick some more, “I’d be the winner.”
There’s a knock on the front door, and they pull apart to open the store and get on with their day.  But every once in a while David catches a sparkle in Patrick’s eye.  
The next day, lying in bed and enjoying the ability to sleep in on the weekend, David has completely forgotten about their conversation.  Until Patrick bounces on to the bed, guitar in hand.
“I have a better song for you,” he says, grinning as he strums.  
“I’m not even awake,” David complains as he sits up and brushes a hand through his hair.
“You’ll like this, I think.”  Patrick shifts around, sitting cross-legged and facing David.  It’s a good bet - David loves when Patrick plays for him.  Although he hopes this song isn’t as sad as the last one.
Patrick starts singing, and David smiles.  “I recognize this.”
“The Wailin’ Jennys do a version of it, I’ve sort of combined their vibe with Dolly’s.”
“Of course you have,” David says.
It's been a long dark night  And I've been a waitin' for the morning.  It's been a long hard fight  But I see a brand new day a dawning. 
Patrick stops playing the guitar and just sings, his voice soft and strong as he gazes at David
I can see the light of a clear blue morning I can see the light of a brand new day I can see the light of a clear blue morning Everything's gonna be alright It's gonna be okay. 
David should be used to Patrick singing his feelings by now.  But it still gets him, every time, and makes him fall in love just a little bit more.
-----
Note:  Both songs are by the Wailin’ Jennys; the second is a Dolly Parton song that they cover.  Both are well worth a click to listen to.  The second one, in particular, is a perfect song to wake up to ♥️
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Text
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Pairing: Draco x reader
Summary: You and Draco spend the day together when neither of you go to Hogsmade, and it ends up differently then you expect.
Warnings: swearing I suppose
Masterlist
——————
“You know, you’re not as bad as people say you are,” you say. Draco just looks at you and smiles.
Draco and you spent the whole day together since both of you didn’t want to go to Hogsmade. At first you were skeptical about it, due to the fact Harry Potter just so happens to be in your year and in your house, and you’ve heard all about Draco. ‘Draco did this’ and ‘Draco did that’. Honestly, if you didn’t know any better, Harry might have a crush on Draco. But, you don’t know any better, so that could very well be true.
Although, you couldn’t help but like Draco. Not head over heels or anything like that, but the occasional butterflies. You didn’t even know what you liked about Draco. Maybe it was that edgy vibe he gave off, or that he is insanely attractive. Well, you suppose you didn’t like Draco, you just had an innocent crush on him. You’ve never actually had a full on conversation with him. Well, okay, maybe the occasional ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘how’s your day going?’ and ‘good, you?’ but not a long conversation.
So when Draco came up behind you in the library this morning it was quite the suprise.
——————
“Y/N?” You turned around quickly to see Draco standing behind you.
“Oh, hello Draco,” you said, closing your book.
“How are you doing?” he asked, tentatively sitting next in the chair to you.
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” You already knew this was going to be a different conversation then the normal. He actually sat down next to you and is talking. I was peculiar considering he could’ve gone to Hogsmade today, instead of sitting in the almost empty library with you (1st, 2nd, and some 5th, and 7th years were here, grabbing a book or two to read or to study).
“I’m good,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
“So, why aren’t you in Hogsmade today? The weather is spectacular, if you didn’t notice.” The weather was spectacular. The sun was high in the sky, and it was a great temperature. High 70s, your type of weather.
“I could be asking you the same question,” he said, smirking at you. You could’ve swooned at the look he gave you. Holy hotness.
“I, well, um, didn’t want to go, actually,” you said, twiddling your thumbs. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you didn’t want to go, but that was the half truth.
You and your friends were taking a break from eachother. Nothing happened, well maybe there was a few harsh words thrown around after Lavender made you mad. You shuddered thinking about it. But, you were just taking a harmless break. You’ll be back to normal by tonight. You always are.
“I see,” Draco said.
“You still didn’t answer my question.” You looked at Draco and you saw his smile waver for a split second, before regaining its usual brightness.
“Well, there wasn’t anything I wanted to see there.” He shrugged and you felt those butterflies resurface. You had no idea why, but it was strange.
“Yeah, well, what are your plans for the day then?” you asked, only to keep the conversation going. Why not, it’s not like you had anything better to do.
“Well, maybe I’ll spend the day with you,” he said, leaning towards you. You blushed a little but thankfully Draco didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, you do that Draco.” You rolled your eyes and went back to the book you were reading. You were going to play hard to get.
This seemed to work as you pretended to read. Draco raised an eyebrow, damnit you’ve always wanted to be able to do that, and peered over your book at you. You lowered your book so just your eyes were showing. You looked up at him and saw his confused face, before putting the book back in front of your face. Draco at this point, was getting a little irritated at your messing with him. So finally, after a second of deciding, he took the book away from you and closed it.
“What the hell Draco? How am I supposed to know what page I’m on?” you angrily demanded. You crossed your arms and sat there scowling at him.
“Psh, you’ll know,” he said, rolling his eyes at you. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a victory because both of you knew you could remember the page number.
You have a photographic memory. It’s true, and only you and Draco knew. He found out when you were partnered in potions and you listed all the instructions without looking at the board. Well, you looked at the board once, but that was it. That was one of the only times you had an actual conversation.
“It was still rude,” you said leaning towards him. To your suprise, he leaned towards you too.
“Well let me make it up to you then.” He stood up and extended his hand out to you. You stared at it for a second before reaching for it. Draco puled you out of the chair you were sitting in. He lead you out of the library and that’s when the fun started.
It was roughly 11:00 when Draco found you in the library. Right away you both walked outside and sat by the lake. There was barely anyone outside. You guys sat there and chatted for the longest time. You had no idea that Draco’s favorite class was potions, like yours. It was crazy that you had similar likes and dislikes. The only topic you didn’t discuss was the war that was coming. You both knew you’d be fighting on different sides. You didn’t want to ruin the awesome day you were having so far.
Draco, around noon, decided it would be fun to take a swim in the lake. You tried not watch him as he took off his shirt, but you couldn’t help but look over and see his perfect abs. Your heart fluttered, but you ignored it. Draco tried to coax you to come in, but you denied. It wasn’t until Draco went under water for a longer time then necessary, did you go and wade in up to your knees. Draco suprised you when he snuck up behind you, scooped you up and threw you into the lake. You were wearing a nice summery outfit, t-shirt and shorts, which was better to get wet then your robe.
You were so pissed at first, but the coldness was a good relief from the heat. You and Draco swam around until you both got hungry. Draco and you ran into the castle, hand in hand, leaving a trail of water. You both decided to go shower and change, then meet back in the basement. You showered and dressed as quickly as you could. You sprinted down into the basement and ran right into Draco.
“In a hurry?” he asked, smirking at your out of breath self. You just grinned at him, as he took your hand and lead you to the kitchen.
You’ve never been to the kitchen before, so it was suprise when you found out all you had to do was tickle the pear. The room was filled with bustling house-elves. One came up to you and eagerly asked what you wanted. You politely asked for sandwich or two. Draco asked for one too, more politely then you would’ve thought he would’ve. Draco also whispered something into the elf’s ear, and you hoped it was nice.
After a minute or two wait, the elf came back over with a basket full of food. He also had a blanket. You immediately knew what was about to happen. Since you’re a muggleborn, you’ve been on a picnic before. You did think purebloods went on picnics. That’s when it hit you. You recalled telling Draco how much you wanted to go on a picnic a few weeks ago. Of course, he didn’t know what it was, so you explained it all. It was really sweet of him to remember. You walked side by side all the way back to the lake.
You guys ate and talked more. It was actually very nice talking to Draco. Most of your stereotypes of him sort of went away in your head as you sat there with him. You were genuinely happy. It was around three, you guessed, when Draco pulled out the book you were reading, and insisted you read it to him. You protested a few times before giving in. You read one of you favorite muggle books to him, The Outsiders.
You restarted the book so Draco could understand it all. He asked so many questions about what the places were, that you were talking about in the muggle book. You answered them all patiently. You sat up against the tree by the lake reading, for who knows how long. You only took a break, when Draco came over and sat next to you, instead of laying down across from you. Well, you took short breaks when you would take a drink of water to avoid your voice dying out. Luckily, the elves packed a lot of extra food and water.
When you got to the part when Johnny died, you had to stop for a second. This part always got you, and you could tell Draco was sad too, because he pulled you closer to him. You didn’t even notice it was past dinner until you finally put the book down. You’re a fast reader so it only took you probably 5 hours to read the whole book out loud. The sun was setting and you knew you only had a short amount of time before cerfew. But, Draco took you hand and lead you back into the school.
The Great Hall was bustling with students finishing their dinner. You and Draco snuck past the room and ran up flights of stairs. It dawned on you that you were going up the astronomy tower.
Once you and Draco got up there, you set the blanket and basket down and walked over to the railing to watch the sunset.
——————
“I’m not?” Draco asks. Draco and you were still watching the sunset when you decided to tell him that he wasn’t as bad as everyone says he is.
“No, you’re not. You’re actually a very decent person.” You turn and wink at Draco as he rolls his eyes and throws his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.
“Well coming from you, it must be true,” he says, shaking his head and you laugh. You both sit there in silence for a minute, just watching the sunset.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask Draco, turning to face him. He smirks at you and you tilt you head. “What?”
“Well, Y/N, it’s not as beautiful as you,” he says, staring at you to see your reaction. You blush a mad pink and look away. “And while I’m saying things with this confidence I somehow got, I might as well tell you that I didn’t want to go to Hogsmade when I found out you weren’t going. It was the perfect opportunity to spend the day with you,” he says shyly. You turn to face him.
“Well, if that’s a confession for liking me, it was pretty shitty. But also kinda cute. And lucky for you, I like you too.” Draco’s smile makes you smile as he bends down to kiss you on the forehead. It wasn’t the kiss you were wanting so you grab his shirt and pull him down until you could reach his lips with yours. You were kind of nervous to kiss him, full on like that, but when you realize he’s kissing you back, all your doubt goes away. When you finally break away, you both smile and grab each others hand and continue to watch the sunset. You would gladly skip cerfew any day to be up here, hand in hand, with Draco Malfoy.
++++++
sorry the ending kind of sucks, but it’s fine. i hope you liked it!
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sebspocketsquare · 5 years ago
Text
Wishing you were here.. 2
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (chatroom)
A/N: Hey guys! Here’s the second installment. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think.
Warnings: language,  flirting, pet names, angst, feels, bad date vibes
Masterlist
[Sarge1917:] Tell me all your favorite things.
[SpaceKitten:] All of them? You can’t be a liiiittle more specific? Lol
[Sarge1917:] oh, I’m sure I could, but.. I want to know everything there is to know about you, kitten, so I figured I’d just outright ask. (;
Every time Sarge flirted with you like this, it made you squirm in your seat while a huge smile overtook your face. To say that you found him irresistible was an understatement.
[Sarge1917]: But if it’ll be easier for you.. let’s start with favorite food, music, flowers and scent.
[SpaceKitten]: I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
[Sarge1917]: Deal.
This is always how your conversations started out, genuine interest in wanting to get inside your shell. But, in the early hours of the morning when the sun is just starting to paint the sky in pastel flames, the connection between you sparks and ignites.
You spill your hearts out without a second thought.
[Sarge1917]: Kitten.. can I be completely honest with you?
[SpaceKitten]: always.
Your response is nearly immediate, like its second nature to reassure him that he can trust you. That he can feel safe with you.
[Sarge1917]: I really care about you.
[SpaceKitten]: I really care about you too, Sarge.
You thought that was common knowledge in the friendship that had bloomed between you. He was always there for you, and you for him.
[Sarge1917]: As happy as it makes me to hear that, I’m not sure you understand what I’m trying to say…
[Sarge1917]: What I mean is.. I like you, kitten.
[Sarge1917]: Probably much more than I should, given I’ve never even so much as heard the sound of your voice, let alone seen your face or held you in my arms.
[Sarge1917]: I thought all of that was important when I first joined this site.. that I was already set up for failure because id never have an emotional connection with a person I couldn’t physically see.
[Sarge1917]: But I was wrong, kitten.. so very wrong.
Your mouth has gone dry at this point, a lump forming in your throat as your heart threatens to explode behind your ribs.
[Sarge1917]: Talking with you is the highlight of my day, and frankly, I don’t want to imagine a life without you in it..
[Sarge1917]: Which makes what I’m about to say very hard for me.
The excited rhythm of your heart immediately becomes a harsh thundering in your chest, fear flooding through your veins.
[Sarge1917]: I know we’ve never really gotten into detail about what I do for a living, but occasionally, I have to go off the grid for a few weeks, even months, at a time..
[Sarge1917]: It would seem now would be one of those times.
You stare blankly at the screen for a few moments, not quite sure how to respond to him.
He was leaving… for an undetermined amount of time? 
And ‘off the grid’? What did that mean?
No computer access? Surely he had a cell phone?
[Sarge1917]: Kitten…? please still be with me..
You don’t even notice how long you’ve sat, lost in your own thoughts, until he messages again.
[SpaceKitten]: I’m here..
[SpaceKitten]: How long will you be gone…?
You don’t notice you’ve started to tear up until you can barely read his response when it comes through.
[Sarge1917]: Two to three months. Depends on how quickly I get my work done. I won’t have access to phone or internet where I’m going. That’s why I needed to tell you..
[Sarge1917]: Because I know it’s selfish to ask you to wait for me.. Hell, if you even feel the same as me..
[Sarge1917]: But I can promise, as soon as I get back, I will contact you.
You’re surprised he’s the one feeling selfish, when all you can think of is begging him not to leave you.
He wasn’t yours, yet the idea of going weeks without speaking to him made anxiety fill your lungs. 
He’d given you the one thing you’d been missing: hope for something good. Hope for something beautiful.
[SpaceKitten]: When do you leave?
[Sarge1917]: First thing in the morning.. I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I.. I didn’t know how.
[Sarge1917]: I’m not good at saying goodbye.
You force a smile and take in a shaky, tearful breath.
[SpaceKitten]: Not goodbye.. just ‘see you soon’, right..?
[Sarge1917]: Of course. Just see you soon.
When Sarge finally signed off a few hours later, an empty pit formed in the center of your chest and you found yourself silently sobbing yourself to sleep. 
Was it childish? Maybe, but in that moment, you didn’t care. Your worst fear in the friendship had come to reality; he left.
Two weeks turned to four, four turned to six, six to eight and so on, until Sarge’s absence had reached an appalling 22 weeks. 
Summer had turned to autumn, and the autumn leaves had begun to turn a shade of brown that only winter’s frost can bring.
Waiting longer than that for a faceless man you’d met on the internet seemed foolish, and so you were determined to move on.
You found a different app, more up to date, showing you other singles in the area who were looking to meet up. 
Setting up a date with the first guy who matched with you seemed like a good idea at the time.
When you show up to the address of your dinner date, you realize it’s a more-sleazy-than-not type of place, and seemed like the perfect spot to have more intimate conversations than you were ready for. Especially on a first date.
Trusting your gut is something you’ve always had a hard time with.
Your date is named Nicolas, and though his profile seemed nice enough, he seems to have a problem with keeping his hands to himself.
Fingers found their way beneath the hem of your dress and inched far too high for your liking, several times.
Each time you denied his advances, he laughed as if it was a cute joke, and proceeded to do it again ten minutes later.
An hour and a half in, and it was taking everything in you not to slap him or cry.. or maybe even both.
The end of the date couldn’t come fast enough, and you were thankful you drove separately.
He walks you to your car, backing you against the drivers side and pressing his body to yours in a feeble attempt to seduce you. He seems to have no idea how repulsive you find him. 
Claiming to feel ill manages to get you away from him without making mouth-to-mouth contact. When you’re out of the parking lot, tears fall freely from your eyes.
Once you’re in the safety of your apartment, skin scrubbed raw in the shower and wrapped in your smoothest, softest robe, you make a silent pact with yourself that the only men you need in your life are Ben & Jerry.
They’d never treat you this way, they’d merely mend the holes in your heart with chocolate and caramel goodness.
What more could you need?
Your hand is shaking and your eyes are puffy and bloodshot when you finally bring up your chat app on the computer. The one you’d met Sarge on. 
You go to your account settings, finally ready to let go, to give up and deactivate your account.
You’d decided you were finally done.
Taking a few deep breaths, you bring the cursor of your mouse to rest over the DEACTIVATE button, fresh tears stinging the back of your eyes as you hesitate.
A silent prayer resounds in your mind as you let out one more shaky breath and prepare to finally click.
...but not before the familiar sound of a new IM comes through the speakers.
Your eyes are still closed from your moment of regaining composure, and you try to calm the erratic beating in your chest. It can’t be him. It can’t. Calm yourself.
When you open your eyes, tears flow over their edges and your jaw falls slack.
[Sarge1917]: Kitten…?
You’re convinced you’ve made this up, it’s some sort of hallucination. Moments ago, you silently told yourself that if it was meant to be, you’d be given some sort of sign, and now.. this? 
Was it coincidence? Or interference from the divine?
You’re too trapped in your own mind to even consider replying right away.
[Sarge1917]: Please still be with me…
His words ring back to memories of your last conversation and you find your emotions fighting a battle between relief, joy, and anger.
[SpaceKitten]: I’m here, I just.. I’m in shock. Is it really you?
[Sarge1917]: Please forgive me. I didn’t know my trip would be extended and I had no way to let you know.
[Sarge1917]: I thought about you every day I was gone.
The familiar feeling of butterflies in your lower belly resurfaces, though you try your best to fight it.
[Sarge1917]: Kitten? You there?
You weren’t sure how it was even possible, but more tears fill your eyes as you type. Your fingers hit the keys harshly, not even bothering to fix the typos as you go.
[SpaceKitten]: You were gone. For so fucking long.
[SpaceKitten]: I started losing hope after week ten, but held out for you for 22 weeks.
[SpaceKitten]: you have no idea what that was like for me, Sarge. Wondering why you didn’t come back, when you swore you would.
[SpaceKitten]: Do you remember your last words to me, Sarge?
[SpaceKitten]: you said “please don’t forget me”
[SpaceKitten]: and I told you it’d be hard to remember anything else
[Sarge1917]: Kitten, please, let me explain
You’re too far into your rant to stop, it’s coming out involuntarily at this point.
[SpaceKitten]: I went on a date for the first time in two years tonight. And I promised myself I wouldn’t self sabotage, just because I couldn’t get you out of my head.
[SpaceKitten]: The date turned out to be shit anyway, but I can’t decide if it’s because I set myself up for it, or if it’s because all men are handsy, sex crazed idiots.
[SpaceKitten]: And all I could think when I got home was, “I bet Sarge would never have done this to me”, even though I have nothing for comparison because we’ve been nothing but ghosts to each other for nearly a year.
[Sarge1917]: Kitten.. I’m so sorry.
You have to cease your keyboard attack momentarily to fetch a tissue and clean up your face.
[Sarge1917]: Do you want me to leave you alone?
The question makes you scoff and shake your head, though you’re well aware he can’t see you.
[SpaceKitten]: That is literally the last thing I want…
Your eyes scan over the words you’d sent minutes ago, and you realize that while you feel you were in the right, you might’ve been a little harsh. 
Guilt eats away at the lining of your stomach while you wait to see his reply.
[Sarge1917]: Can I call you..?
You’re stunned by the question. It was the first time such a thing had been brought up in all the time you’d been talking. You figured it was just because he was too anxious, or hated phone calls like so many people, including yourself.
[Sarge1917]: Hell, you can even call me. Block your number, I don’t care. I just want you to hear my voice when I say what I have to say. I need you to believe me, and if I can’t be there to say it to your face, this will have to do.
His next message contains an assortment of numbers, the ones you’d have to dial to finally accomplish something you’d only dreamed of for months. 
Hearing his voice.
[Sarge1917]: Sleep won’t come easy for me tonight, so take your time, Kitten. I’ll be here when you’re ready.
Your phone is sitting on the edge of your desk, the blank screen taunting you as you look down at it. All you had to do was pick it up, dial the 10 digit number, open your mouth and force words out.
It sounded a lot easier than it was going to be.
What if you forgot how to speak?
What if he didn’t answer?
What if he does turn out to be a 77 year old trucker?
What if he’s a total creep, like you’ve been worrying about the whole time?
Somehow, you find the pros outweighing the cons. Your hands move of their own accord and pick up your phone, typing in each number with intent. You could do this.
The line rings once, twice, three times, before someone finally answers.
The voice on the other end of the call is warm, deep, and sounds like honey. Your insides melt at the sound.
“Kitten?”
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TAGS: (sorry if you dont like being tagged, its been so long since i’ve posted idk who to tag anymore lolol. @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler  @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx  @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl  @jayattemptstoruletheworld   @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec  @stevieang  @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff
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writing-for-amusement · 5 years ago
Text
Commission for Confidence 3
Summary: Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?
A/N: Okay, like I said, I’m impatient. This is where it starts picking up! You finally meet up with Peter and get to talking. I just realized, admittedly a little late, that this is probably going to be a slow, SLOW burn fic. Lol, I really can’t help myself, can I? I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!!
Word Count: 2010 words
Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @scatterbrainedgenius
Warning: minor insecurity mention, mention of past therapy, slight anxiety
Chapter Three 
The next day, you got up and took a comfortable shower. Your apartment may be small, but it had wonderful plumbing and a shower/tub you could actually move around in.
With your laptop open on the counter, you cooked yourself a small breakfast and had The Golden Girls playing as you did. Then, despite knowing it was a casual meeting with a complete stranger, you agonized over your casual outfit for the late spring day.
Finally deciding on your favorite shorts and a comfortable Wonder Woman tank top, you looked in your mirror. Remembering what you’d always been told in therapy, you said three positive things about yourself: “My thighs are powerful and strong. I can lift heavy objects when I need to. My laugh is genuine.”
Satisfied with your little exercise in self-love (it was a process and some days were much harder than others), you brushed your teeth and styled your hair the way you liked it. With still time to spare, you gathered your things and finished your episode, chuckling at Sophia’s sharp insults.
As you left your apartment and locked the door, you tried to calm your nerves. You were always nervous when you were meeting new people, and this was certainly not going to be an exception. You were glad that you were getting coffee, as having something to hold in your hands would help you stop fidgeting.
On the subway, you overheard a few people talking about Spider-Man’s latest save. The superhero had been saving Queens (and other places) for years before you had moved there, but you still hadn’t seen him. You’d heard plenty about him, fun anecdotes from colleagues or people in shops, but you had never seen the superhero in person.
You thought back to the first time you’d seen anything about Spider-Man, years ago when the hero was just a YouTube star. And you recalled him helping Tony Stark and the Avengers at large, and his escapades in Europe. Still, after all that, he seemed to always call Queens home. It was, if anything, intriguing.
You arrived at the café early, though you had anticipated that. You always left home early when traveling into the heart of Manhattan, just in case there were accidents or delays. So, content with your extra time to yourself, you ordered your usual beverage and sat down with your laptop and a manuscript in your hands.
It was a little past 1 p.m. when you heard someone clear their throat to get your attention. You looked up, suddenly aware that you had the tip of your pen in your mouth, and then you saw a man standing in front of you with a cup of coffee and a bag on his shoulder.
He was definitely handsome. His hair was a medium brown with fluffy curls, but his eyes were a darker brown that you could see yourself getting lost in. And, as with most men, his eyelashes were unfairly long. He had a bright smile on his face, and it made your traitorous heart flutter; you could see his freckles. The man was obviously fit, his arms toned from what you could see; his nerdy shirt make you chuckle to yourself.
The general vibe you got from him was warm, kind, and accepting.
“Are you Y/N?” he asked you as he smile shifted into a grin.
“Ah, yes, that’s me!” you stuttered slightly, moving your stuff around on the table. “Are you Peter Parker?”
“Indeed, I am,” he stated, sitting in the chair next to you instead of the one across from you. You were occupying yourself with getting your things out of the way, and your normal apology left your lips.
“I’m so sorry, I generally spread out when I’m working on something good, I should have just left the work alone, so sorry,” you spewed, rambling nervous apologies.
You had a feeling that Peter Parker would be cute, but for him to be this deviously handsome and cute had you definitively flustered.
“No apologies needed,” Peter reassured you, resting his elbows on the table. “You really weren’t that spread out, especially not on such a small table.” He held his hand out for you, and you shook it, the warmth creeping up your wrist.
You chuckled nervously and shoved your pen back in your bag. “So,” you began gently, “how are you today?”
“I’m marvelous,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee and glancing at you over the top of the cup. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m actually really good!” you beamed, thumbing your own cup. “I had a really good morning, actually. My commute was surprisingly sparse for a Saturday.”
“Where do you commute from?” Peter asked with a tilt of his head.
“Queens,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. You were surprised and almost choked when Peter burst into loud laughter.
“We could have met up in Queens!” he explained as he finished laughing. The sound had made your heart skip, but you ignored it. “I live in Queens.”
You laughed lightly, saying, “Well, now we know!”
Peter finished laughing and watched you carefully. You sipped your drink and forced yourself to remain calm in the less awkward situation the man had created.
“You are just,” Peter paused, seeming to try to find the best word, “so cute!” he finished, making a gesture with his hands for emphasis.
You felt your cheeks warm and you looked away with a small chuckle. “Well, you’re pretty handsome yourself.”
“Thanks,” he blushed adorably.
Because of course he blushed adorably.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he requested, pulling a sketchbook out of his bag. “Hope you don’t mind if I take some notes?”
“N-no, not at all!” you reassured him. “Um, well, what would you like to know?”
“Everything,” Peter told you with a gleam in his eyes.
You blinked slightly before going into a stumbling explanation of your life. You told him about how you’d moved to New York for work, and that got you into how much you’d always loved reading about anything and everything (except math), and how you loved your job being an editor and helping budding authors and artists.
“I just recently started reading a draft about a society that revolves around plants and flowers, and it involves a lot of floriography, the meaning of flowers and plants, and it specifically talks about how this one expert is getting tied up between two mafias because both are asking for arrangements from them to send to the other as messages, you know—” you cut yourself off abruptly. “I’m sorry, that’s not important.”
“No, no!” Peter protested, giving you a reassuring smile. There was a glimmer in his eye that you couldn’t quite place, and you couldn’t see what he was writing. “I think it’s great. The way you talk about books and tell stories makes me want to read them. You’re a talented storyteller, Y/N,” he smiled.
You chuckled, taking a sip from your coffee, “I’ve always been a rather animated storyteller,” you admitted. “When I send videos to my friends on Snapchat, they get upset when they send out of order.”
“Tell me about a time where you were, oh, amazed by something,” Peter suggested.
You pursed your lips in thought. “I once got to hike on an island in the Pacific,” you began, thinking back on the memory. “It was for work, believe it or not, and I got to check out this amazing sleeping volcano. And as I stood at the top, looking out on a cove below, I couldn’t believe it. The sun was beginning to set, creating this beautiful sky over the ocean. It made me feel… small, but comforted, as if I was being hugged by a close friend. And, Peter, those colors, I think I cried.
“The sun created this magnificent amalgam of the softest of pinks, the most vivid of violets, and the sweetest of blues, all blending together in some sort of wonderful symphony of serenity. The orange in the sky, fading softly, was like an orange dreamsicle, at that point between frozen and melting. And the ocean, it glittered gold as if with thousands of fireflies gliding across the calm waves.”
You looked up to see Peter just watching you, perching his chin on his hand and regarding you with the softest smile you’d ever seen.
“What?” you asked, a small blush tipping your ears.
“Can I take you back to my place?” he blurted.
“What?!” you were shocked at his bluntness.
“For art!” he continued quickly, his face turning bright red and his eyes widening comically, almost like a cartoon.
You found yourself laughing brightly, your eyes closed in mirth and your head tilted backwards. You enjoyed spending time with Peter already, and you had only been talking for about an hour. He was a sweet guy, paying attention to what you said with the most beautiful light in his gentle brown eyes.
"Yeah, yeah,” he pouted, “laugh it up. I’m just going to sit here, embarrassed, and try to think of a way to redeem myself in your eyes.”
You managed to wrangle your laughter into small chuckles, covering your smile with a hand as you looked at the man across from you. Peter was pouting playfully, his arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious that he was joking, however, because he kept glancing at you and his lips twitched to stop him from smiling.
“How do I know that you’re not a serial killer?” you asked, tilting your head and regarding him in mock seriousness.
“Well then,” he leaned forward, meeting your eyes dead on, “perhaps Spider-Man will come save you.”
Your head tilted back again as you laughed, though not for as long as before. “You know, I’ve lived her awhile now, and I still haven’t even seen Spider-Man in person.”
“Really?” Peter was obviously surprised, with once again comically large eyes.
“Yes, really,” you confirmed with a nod. “I never seem to be around where he is at any given time. I hear stories about him, though, all the time. Heard some on the subway here. He seems like a nice guy, if a little reckless sometimes.”
“Reckless?”
You nearly rolled your eyes at his almost offended tone, but truly, he seemed more intrigued than anything else. “I saw a video of him throwing not one, but two cars at an enemy. That is, admittedly, a little reckless when there are tons of people running around, trying to get away.”
Peter seemed to think about what you said, having a conversation with himself in his head that was obvious by the shifting of his facial expressions. Finally, the man seemed to heave a sigh, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I guess he is a little reckless sometimes,” Peter nodded, as if he knew the hero personally. You almost asked if he did, but he changed the subject by continuing, “So, would you like to be a live model for me? I promise I’m not a serial killer.”
You pursed your lips and looked off to the side, pretending to think intently about the idea. You almost broke character when you say him shift nervously but managed to keep yourself in check. You should be an actress, you thought.
Finally, after what couldn’t have been more than a minute, you looked at Peter with a bright smile. “Alright, Peter, I’ll be a model. Though I’m sure I’m not anywhere near the prettiest model you’ve ever had, I’ll do my best.”
You both stood and you didn’t miss Peter’s furrowed brows at your comment. You hoped that he would drop it, as you were already regretting saying that you weren’t pretty. You knew that it wasn’t true, but oftentimes your anxiety and history of self-deprecation got right ahead of you. Today, you were actually doing okay, other than that one slip of the tongue that you’d uttered to a gorgeous man.
Then again, sometimes the smallest of things could set you back three years.
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serahsanguine · 6 years ago
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Whats Left Unsaid, Says It All
What’s Left Unsaid, Says it all part 8/?
Rating; NC-17, NSFW
This Story can be found at  Ao3
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part 6, Part 7, 
Tagging; @peacenik0  @today-in-fic
p.s. if you would like updates and be tagged please let me know
**********************************************
Chapter 8; The Burning Question.
"Hey, what’s up G-Man?" Frohike said while cooking up some Huevos Rancheros for himself, Langley and Byers as an afternoon snack. The cast iron skillet was sizzling with oil and he carefully placed six eggs in, then added peppers, tomatoes and beans.
"I need you to hack some medical records for me, ASAP" Mulder growled down the line, staring at Scully and her children.
"Yeah, no problem, whose medical records?"
"Scully’s" Mulder sighed.
"Whoa, whoa... why?" Frohike questioned, sprinkle some chilli powder on the omelette.
"It doesn't matter why. Can you do it or not, Frohike?"
"Yes, of course. We’ll get on it now."
Mulder hung the phone up and shoved it in his pocket; he was so angry... at himself, at Scully, at Melissa, at everyone. Dammit, how could he have been so stupid? So fucking stupid. He fucking loved a woman that had quite obviously cheated on him, ran away for him and left her job as his FBI partner. He felt like such a damn fool. He started walking quickly back to his car, just around the corner from the park, as soon as Scully was nowhere in sight.
Dark grey clouds started floating over the beautiful blue May sky, little raindrops falling from above but he was so lost in his mind that he didn’t realise; thoughts of Scully but more importantly he could not get passed her children... a little boy, all pale complexion with beautiful blue eyes and fiery red hair and a slightly more plump little girl with long brown chestnut hair and greenish-blue eyes. She looked so much like Samantha but this was not possible, neither child was his. Maybe when the little one called out dad she was mistaken, perhaps her real father looked like him.
He hadn’t been able to get the dream of him, Scully and their little family out of his head, even though he hadn’t wanted a family - well, not until this dream played on a loop in his subconscious, playing out numerous different happy family scenarios.
Mulder dreamt of their first Christmas together with lots of presents under the tree and him dressing up as santa, making his girls laugh. God, he loved to make Scully laugh. He dreamt of his daughter's first steps, first words. Suddenly, tears were streaming down his face and mixing with the rainwater as he reached his car, unlocked it and put the key in the ignition.
He realised he needed a stiff drink of alcohol to forget this day, forget what he saw, forget his life just for a little while, so he drove to the nearest D.C. bar.
The Next day
Mulder woke up face down on his leather sofa, still in the clothes he was wearing from the day before with empty liquor bottles everywhere and dirty clothes as far as the eye can see.
The sun was shining full force through the window, he looked up and groaned - his head hurt and his throat was sore. He had drunk his body weight three times over before getting home and then drinking some more just to make sure he got the job done.
He rolled over, swinging his legs off the sofa and planting his feet firmly on the floor and just sat there contemplating what to do next for a minute, he needed a plan but he couldn’t think straight with this epic hangover pulsing through his body.
He needed some coffee, painkillers and a hot shower immediately.
Mulder looked down at his clothes, absolutely disgusted, that he had slept in the clothes from the day before. They now stuck to his body, clinging to him from the sweat that had built up during the night, getting up he swayed on his legs ever so slightly but quickly regained his balance before walking over and turning on the coffee machine, grabbing two Advil out of the cupboard along with a glass of water. He swallowed the pills, moaning because his throat felt like sandpaper.
What the fuck had he got up to last night? It was all a bit of a blur at the moment.
He walked through to the bathroom, discarding his clothes along the way, before getting into the shower and turning it on to wash away the side effects of the night before.
One hour later: Mulder had put on some clean-ish clothes and was now sitting at his desk contemplating what to do, while drinking coffee and waiting for the information to come back from the Lone Gunmen.
Staring into his PC monitor, he tried to put things in order of his brain, when suddenly it hit him his bright idea like an epiphany of sorts, grabbing his mobile, keys and jacket before heading out the door and drove to Maggie's house, parking his normal spot before ringing Melissa Scully.
***********************************************************
Melissa was playing peek a boo with the twins watching them laugh and smile while Scully sat on her mom's sofa drinking a small cup of tea when suddenly Melissa's phone rang - unknown number appearing on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Melissa. It’s Mulder, can you talk?"
Scully sat there looking at her sister mouthing ‘Who is it?'. Melissa looked back at her sister with a startling impression on her face and mouthed back ‘Mul-der ’. Scully gave her a look that said take it outside before the twins made some noise.
"Of course, give me a minute? I just need to go outside where it's... quiet"
"Okay" Mulder mumbled, trying to hold back his emotions.
Melissa wandered outside, closing the front door behind herself, and sat down on the bench in her mom’s garden just underneath the front window. And without knowing it she was now in the direct eye line of Mulder, who was sitting in his car across the street.
"How are you, Mulder?" Melissa asked, her patented kindness on show.
"I’m fine" Missy could tell that Mulder was lying but didn't push the subject "I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere when your back in D.C." he asked.
"I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, after the last encounter we had. You scared me, Mulder"
"I know, and you’re probably right... but I want to apologize for my behaviour" and ask about those children I saw your sister with at the park, he wanted to add but stopped himself.
"OK, but it has to be somewhere public..."
"That's fine by me. How about you meet me at 'The Sheppard' and you decide the date and time" Mulder interrupted, not wanting to give up on a meeting that could give him the answers to all of the questions in his mind right now.
"The Sheppard works. Say this Thursday... at 7 o'clock?" Melissa offered.
"OK, see you then" Mulder agreed.
Both hung up at the exact same time. Mulder watched Missy as Scully opened the front door with the little girl on her hip and stepped backwards to her sister could come back into the house. Now that the time and date was set; the first part of his plan was achieved. Just two more days until he finally got some answers. Mulder drove off in the direction of the Hoover building.
Meanwhile, the moment Missy stepped through the door she took Elissa from Scully and wrapped herself in her niece' embrace before letting out a small sigh before answering any and all questions by her mother and sister that were likely to be headed her way any minute now.
The Sheppard 7 pm Thursday
Mulder sat at the bar, nursing a beer he had bought twenty minutes ago, he wanted to be sober when this conversation happened. But his mind was screaming for him to be drunk, he was doing the right thing he definitely needed to be calm and collected, needed to know everything about those children he saw with Scully... needed to know if they were his.
It had been all he could think about for the past two days. Work, as usual, was unproductive and Skinner even sent him home, having become tired of the brooding and angry vibes coming off of him in waves.
A few minutes later he saw a bounce of red hair come through the door, looking up what he saw unnerved him. It wasn't Melissa like he was expecting it to be. No, who he saw was more petite than her. It was Scully (his Scully) with her glowing crimson hair and deep blue eyes that had walked into the bar.
Mulder was shocked, to say the least, and it certainly was an unexpected turn of events but it gave him hope that he would actually get the answers he was looking for... straight from the source.
Scully walked over to him wearing casual dark jeans and a white blouse with a thin light jacket over the top. She looked amazing even though he had seen her just a few days ago. She would always take his breath away, he thought.
She sat down next to him quickly ordering a diet coke and looked up at him, shyly.
"Hey, Mulder"
"Scully"
‘I know you weren't expecting me, but I hope you don't mind that I've come in Missy's place"
 Well, yes actually I do mind! This would've been a damn sight easier if it was Melissa, Mulder thought but what he actually said was "No, I don't mind. It's nice to see you, you look good. You've changed"
"Yes. A lot has changed since..." Scully trailed off not finishing the sentence as she could not bring herself to say the words - I left without telling you why. No, I ran away like a scared child... taking your kids with me.
"Care to tell me what has changed in your life?" God, he sounds like a asshole right now but he wanted her to say it, to admit to something. When did speaking to her become so damn hard?
"Nothing... well, nothing important anyway" a brief awkward silence fell upon them, until Mulder realised she wasn't going to say anything so he just had to man up and ask and see where it went from there even if it terrified him.
"So, you've been in D.C. for a couple of days then?" Mulder thought he sounded smooth and casual but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
"I have..." How could he know? What if he saw me with the twins? What if.. oh god. I don't think I can do this. What if he asks about them? "Why?" Scully wondered out loud.
"Well," How am I going to bring this up? Just blurt it out or dance around the fact? Then Scully looked at him with her eyebrow raised as if to continue the sentence "I saw you. Umm, the other day... at the park... with two small children"
Before Mulder could even get out the next part of his question Scully interrupted him.
"They aren't mine, Mulder. They're Melissa's kids... she came back from California with them. Completely freaked Mom out, it was actually kind of funny"
"Don't lie to me! Scully, we both know you're better than that... or at least you used to be" Mulder spat, a hint of aggression in his voice now. He hated being lied to especially by Scully and especially after everything she had done to him, he just wanted the truth. That's all.
"I..."
"I heard them. I saw them, Scully. They're yours, I know they are. So, just tell me the truth"
"Yes," She took a deep breath in, willing herself to stay calm and be honest with him "They are mine"
Finally, the truth! It's all he has wanted. His whole life, ever since losing Samantha. It was all about finding the truth. He looked down at his beer on the bar top. He needed to push her just a little further, that all important burning question on his lips. "Are they mine?"
"No"
Mulder looked at her and knew without a doubt that she was lying, and she knew that he knew that too. Plus, she was way to quick and resolute with her answer... too quick on the mark as they say, to indifferent about the whole situation.
"Don't fucking lie to me, Dana! The little girl... she is the spitting image of my sister, Samantha. I want to see them, I want to get to know them. They deserve to know their father, don't you think?" Mulder knew that he was raising his voice but he didn't care right now. Scully was lying straight to his face, and refusing to admit what they both know - that he is their father.
"No! Mulder, stop!" Scully stood up, paid for her drink and walked away. Mulder quickly thumbed through his wallet putting a 20 dollar bill on the bar and running after her.
"Scully, they're my children too. You can't deny me the chance to see my own flesh and blood!"
Scully didn't look at him as she got up and walked towards the door. She didn't turn around when he called her name in the most heartbreaking anguish she had ever heard. So, he made him turn around, by grabbing her wrist and spinning her around so he could see her face.
"Dammit, Scully! I want to know my children... I have a right to see them" Mulder was still shouting. He was so damn angry at her for not letting him see his own children! He wanted to see them, wanted to get to know... wanted them to have a different relationship with him that he had with his own parents.
"No, now let me go!"
"Scully, please! I want to see them, just let me see them... once!"
"No, Mulder. Let go of me... NOW!" Scully demanded, trying to yank her wrist free and leaving the bar... to get away from Mulder.
"Fuck you, Scully!" Mulder screamed back before bending down and kissing her. It came out of nowhere, just an impulse... no thinking required. Just do!
As soon as his lips touched hers it was like magic and fireworks exploding between them.
She opened his mouth more with her own and their tongues touched for the first time in more than a year. She had missed him as much as he had missed her but she was so lost and everything was a mess. What was she doing? No, she shouldn't be doing this! Not now!
Scully pulled back, raising her hand to his face - the impact of the hit nearly knocked him off his feet. And the sound it made, you could hear it bouncing off of the walls of the dark alley.
She turned around and quickly flagged down a taxi.
"Scully, I am sorry. I really am!" Mulder tried to apologise, for what he had no idea but it felt like the correct response.
She didn't acknowledge him, didn't even respond to him as she slammed the door of the taxi and left him there on the sidewalk, only then did she let the tears fall.
For all of the consequences of their actions... and for what the future holds now.
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la-appel-du-vide · 6 years ago
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THAILAND 2019 - Day Twelve {Krabi}
Today was another free day for us - meaning we didn’t have anything specifically booked or planned, we just knew we wanted to go visit Ao Nang Beach and Railay Beach! We got up and ready, tried to eat some toast in the hotel lobby but all the bread was gone, and then caught a taxi to Ao Nang Beach.
This is a major tourist area as well. There are a million shops, restaurants, boats for rent, etc. We thought it would be a good idea to eat something before we started our day, so we grabbed something quick, and then went over to the beach.
I suggested we start over on Railay Beach, because that’s the most popular one, and I thought we should get there before it got too crowded. We got to ride on another long-tail boat to get there, and that never gets old. So authentic, so traditional, so fun.(Bring a poncho though - you’re gonna get wet haha.)
We got to Railay Beach, took some photos with the huge line of long-tail boats, and then set out to find a smoothie of course. Mel said she had one of the best smoothies of her life on this beach, so we hoped to find it. (Spoiler - We didn’t.) We each ordered one from a different shop, and they were both much more like drinks instead of thick smoothies which is always a disappointment, but at least they tasted good and were cold!
We set up base camp in a shady spot, and then I went off to wade around the bay. The water temperature is amazing and refreshing, every single time I step into it. This area has a super sandy floor, which was a nice change from so much coral and rocks elsewhere. 
Can’t help but feel like these kinds of days are really what makes life worth living. We get through the mundane, boring routine of normal life for moments like these, and they really are worth it.
I wandered around for awhile, but then noticed some kayaks for rent that I thought would be a fun activity for us. I went back to where Beach was sleeping, and asked her if she thought we’d be capable of kayaking with all our important stuff, and not capsizing and destroying everything haha. We decided to give it a try, so we put all our money and phones in our little waterproof cases, and then wrapped my camera bag in two towels, and put it in Beach’s backpack. Once we were prepared, we went over to the rental area and filled out the paperwork to get one. Only then did we learn that we could leave our bags in the office. All that work for nothing. (;
We had a hard time carrying that heavy thing all the way out to the water, but once we got it in, we were solid. We paddled around the island, and even ran into a live, wild jellyfish! I spotted him, and we circled back to get a closer look. Could hardly believe our eyes. We’ve been up close to so much wildlife here!
We paddled into a couple sea caves (which were sooooo dark), over to a rock that had a gold stripe made out of some sort of tin wrapped all the way around it, and then stopped at a different beach so Beach could take a dip. I waded around behind here, and on the way back in, I got stung by a jellyfish. I went from fine to severe stinging pain on and around my knee. I tried to use water and sand to stop the pain, but nothing worked super well. I learned later that using water can actually release more toxins into your body and make things worth, so that was knowledge that came a little too late. No fun. The swelling took quite awhile to subside, and my freaking knee hurt the rest of the day. Ow ow ow.
I finally sucked it up and got back in the kayak,and we paddled around some more. I enjoyed laying down on the kayak, and just feeling the motion of the waves... it’s one of the most relaxing feelings in the world. UNTIL we hit the rocks. We took a different route going in than we had taken going out, and we regretted everything. We got stuck and high-centered on so many different rocks, and it was nearly impossible to get ourselves backed out of there so we could go in the right direction. Omg so frustrating hahaha.
But we made it. Carrying the wet kayak all the way back was even worse than the first time. My arms were dead. 
We grabbed our stuff and started wandering around the tourist area just off the beach. It’s such a cute little area, surrounded by palm trees, and so many things to see. Such chill vibes. Very island-y. We loved it.
Beach stopped to try a sugar crepe from a food stand we passed, and I would describe the “crepe” as something more like very sweet chips haha. It was so crunchy! Unexpected for sure!
We stopped and had lunch at a small, rooftop restaurant, and it was pretty good. Filled us right up. But not enough that I couldn’t get some more rolled ice cream from a stand we passed on our walk! I’m obsessed! This time I went with plain chocolate and Oreo. So delicious. I need one right outside my hotel tbh. 
We checked out some more of the souvenir shops, and I finally got Aubrey a Buddha statue. She seems to love Buddha lately, so I’ve been looking for a good one for her this whole time. Mission accomplished.
Ended our day at Railay Beach with some more photos in the bay. While we were out there, we came across ANOTHER jellyfish. Took some up-close photos of it (though they aren’t great due to the murky water), and then we got spooked and jetted on out of the water. We warned a nearby family they were there too, and they got out as well. Let me tell you from experience - OUCH. Don’t mess with those things. On our way out of the water, we came across a dead jellyfish floating to shore. Beach dragged it to the water’s edge and marked it with a stick. We hoped people would notice the stick and be careful. But nopeeee, just a few minutes later we noticed a little Asian girl wandering over to it. We were nervous watching her, as she got closer and closer. Finally, it looked like she was bending over to touch it and we couldn’t take it anymore. We jumped up, started running over to her screaming not to touch it, and probably scared her half to death. Her mom didn’t have much reaction down the beach a ways, which is interesting haha. But I also can’t imagine being a little kid and having two strangers start running at me yelling in a different language! We had the best intentions though, truly. Her dad finally understood what we were saying, and he came over to pull her away from the electrocution just waiting to happen. So we were basically superheroes today. Changing the world one potential jellyfish sting at a time.
We grabbed our stuff and went over to the long-tail boats to catch a ride back over to Ao Nang. For the record, I should mention that this sand is high up on my list of quality sand for the trip! Powder white, so soft, and I’m obsessed that’s all.
We got back over to Ao Nang just as the sun was starting to set. So beautiful to watch the sunset over the ocean, wow wow. We went looking for a smoothie (I know it sounds like we get them all the time but they are literally a dollar so it’s fine I promise), but wandered in and out of souvenir shops on our way. We picked up a couple more things - oops. And every smoothie location we passed had smoothies that looked way more like drinks than smoothies (trust me, there’s a difference - and we are paranoid af). So we eventually gave up and settled for some ice cream we found. I got a scoop of strawberry and a scoop of coconut, but literally right after he handed it to me, I turned around, started licking it, and the top scoop fell RIGHT off. Just like the movies. SAD.
So I had a scoop of strawberry. (;
We finished those as we walked back to the main dock area to get a taxi, and passed hella drag queens on our way, all dressed up and advertising a cabaret show. Very interesting, I’m kind of impressed with how realistically they can make themselves look like women... Like, how?? 
We also made the decision to send it and buy a watermelon smoothie to try, because we’ve seen them everywhere and were intrigued. It was not a good purchase tbh hahaha, not great. Mostly tasted like we were drinking watermelon juice. But we tried it! Now we won’t wonder. (;
The first taxi we tried was a disaster. She drove us like 3 minutes to a La La Moon in Ao Nang, and when we tried to explain that this wasn’t what we wanted, she insisted it was. Finally we got her to understand, and she said Krabi was too far and wanted us to get out, BUT SHE STILL WANTED US TO PAY HER. Like, lady... we could have walked to this point in five minutes. You didn’t take us where we wanted to go at all. Dumb. So we gave her just a little bit and that was that.
Found a community bus that travels from Ao Nang to Krabi for way cheap, so that worked out ok. It dropped us off near Walking Street, and then we were able to catch our own taxi back to the hotel pretty easily. 
Then the typical night routine - Tumblr, checking our phones, editing/posting pictures, travel logs, Beach does homework, we shower, and then bed.
It’s really not a bad life. (;
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trickeyarchangel · 6 years ago
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Reaction to Ep 1 of RWBY Volume 6
I’m late to the RWBY party because college is kicking my ass like how Yang kicked that manticore grimm’s ass but hey! Better late than never, I always say.
So before I start going into the details, this is a general summary of my reaction to both episodes:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Okay. Now on to my thoughts on the episode [WARNING: It’s a long post because I have a lot to share]
((Spoilers for Episode 1 of Volume 6 of RWBY below!))
RWBY Volume 6, Chapter 1: Argus Limited
So before I start, let me just start with just...
OH MY GOD
Guys. The fight scene was A-MA-ZING! 
Compared to the fight scenes of Vol. 5, it has improved so much. And also, the narrative flow and overall pacing of the episode was very nice. So mad props to everyone in the CRWBY - the animators and the writers! I’m so proud!
Also... the new opening theme? Love it. LOve it. LOVE IT! I legit can’t wait for the full song to be released, guys. Also, the animation of the new opening sequence? So good. It gave me the WhiteRose cuties and RenNora being sweeties on a bench. I am a simple woman - that made me grin so wide. Although I am very worried about Qrow now. Those Grimm arms grabbing him and pulling him into the dark??? Bad luck druncle may be in danger this volume OR HE COULD DIE AND I’M NOT READY FOR THAT  and I am just...bracing myself for the worst. The story is getting darker and with that comes the reality that characters will die and I’ve made the mistake of becoming super attached to Qrow and he’s literally one of the top characters that could die very soon. I am not ready.
Now to the actual episode content (bullet-ed this part to organize everything since I tend to scatter my thoughts when it comes to reactions):
I like how they started with a snippet of the train fight. It really drew me in and got my heart pumping. Literally after that, I was just glued to the screen of my laptop. It’s a fine way to capture the audience’s attention and drag them back into the world of Remnant.
Premium Team RWBY and JNR dynamic content. Literally, it made my heart soar to see everyone just...being happy and interacting with each other.It gave me the Vol. 1 + 2 vibes. Especially Yang and Ruby’s little moment. After all the dark emotions that Yang was flooded with last volume, it is such a nice breath of air to see her being so bombastic and energetic with Ruby, who I am sure is very VERY happy to see her sister happy again.
Speaking of Yang, while it is nice to see her act all gung-ho a la early RWBY volumes again, I am also very pleased with the writers’ choice to keep the hurt she still has over Blake leaving after Beacon’s fall. Them showing that she and Blake’s relationship isn’t automatically “back to normal” really keeps the relationships believable. After the trauma Yang’s been through (losing her arm, Blake leaving, the crap with Raven), it makes sense that she’s become more cautious socially. Obviously, she’s (somewhat) forgiven Blake, but their bond is still healing and I am very interested to see that play out.
Another thing I loved was seeing Blake’s development as a character. Her scene with Sun, in particular, is a highlight for me. Sun and her’s relationship the past volume was one that I didn’t quite enjoy, mainly because Sun was sort of Blake’s emotional punching bag. So this moment, with Sun willing to let her go now since she doesn’t “need him” to continue on now because she has her team with her (AND BLAKE APPRECIATING HIS HELP and kissing his cheek [BLACKSUN - HELL YEAH] ), god, I loved it.
Also: SUN FINALLY GOING BACK TO HIS TEAM AND ACKNOWLEDGING THAT HIM BEING AWAY FROM THEM IS A “BAD TEAM LEADER” THING. God. FInally. So glad the writers mentioned that. So. Glad.
And Neptune. Good to see him again. A little disappointed that he didn’t have a moment with Weiss (and very disappointed that he flirted with Ilia). Are he and Weiss even still a thing? RWBY writers, please tell me. I would like that cleared up please.
Honorable mention: Ilia. Hearing that Ghira is starting a new Faunus movement and that she will be joining it (and just getting a second chance) made me smile so wide.
Her and Blake hugging was literally cavities inducing.
 I already mentioned the fighting scene and its amazing-ness. So I will gloss over that. But I will mention:
TEAM RWBY BACK TOGETHER AGAIN
QROW AND RUBY DOUBLE-TEAMING WITH THEIR SCYTHES
JAUNE’S SEMBLANCE LITERALLY BEING A BUFF TO OTHER SEMBLANCES (Jaune’s a Support/Healer. I love that)
BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONMENT (The snow. The trees. Hell, even the G R I M M)
Also, Ozpin being super secretive even though he promised the group that there wouldn’t be anymore “half-truths” and “secrets”? I love you, Ozpin. You are cool as ice. But, it’s not exactly a good idea to keep things from the people that you want on your side to save the world. 
I’m fully expecting the next episode to be the one where he gets called out on his secretive nature. (I’ve seen clips of what goes down *because spoilers are sometimes untagged in the rwby tag :( * so I’m pretty sure that’s what’ll happen.
Double also: M A R I A     C A L A V E R A
WHO are you!? 
What is with your eyes? Why are they mechanical?
My current theory is that she had silver eyes  but she lost them (or she’s hiding them?). This is based on that segment in the new opening sequence where the camera zooms in on one of her mech-eyes and then fading into Ruby where the camera then zooms into one of her eyes - pretty much placing a central focus on her mysterious OP GRIMM SLAYING silver eyes. It kind of gives off that feeling that Maria and Ruby have that in common.
Also I love that her design is of Mexican inspiration. She’s amazing. I love her. I can’t wait to find out more about her!
Aaaaand that’s about it...
In summary:
SO MUCH HYPE FOR THIS VOLUME!!
Seriously, I am so proud of Miles, Kerry, and the CRWBY. The animation, the story pacing - it’s improved so much. I just want to shower them all with praise, because they’ve done such a phenomenal job.
I’m not a FIRST member (I’m a broke Filipino college student), so I’ll have to wait until Episode 2 is made available to the public to find out what awaits Team RWBY.
I’m sad that they had to separate from Jaune, Ren and Nora, but, god, I know that we’ll see them again... I’ll still miss them though. I’ve gotten really attached to the them the past few volumes. They’ve grown so much (especially Jaune) and I am just...so proud of these guys. And I’m sure Pyrrha is proud of them too (especially Jaune).
So far my predictions/expectations for this volume are:
We will definitely be learning more about Ozpin’s past this volume. The new opening sequence literally shows off some mysterious blonde lady (who kind of looks like Glynda) standing in front of a huge statue that looks a lot like Ozpin (or at least one of his past selves - which, some, were also shown in the opening sequence). So I am E X C I T E D to learn more lore behind Mr. Body Hopper.
I also am expecting a majority of the conflict being between Oz and Team RWBY and JNR. I also have a feeling that Oscar and Ozpin will be fighting with each other too. This is mostly based on the one scene all the way back in Volume 1 with Blake and her “Man with Two Souls” book where she literally mentioned that the two souls “fought for control”.
We already saw a hint, or at least a possibility, to this with Oscar emphasizing to Ozpin that he’s staying in control before joining the Manticore Grimm fight on the train.
Also based on the opening (The hooded figure with Roman’s bowler hat flying past them with a background of people holding pink umbrellas in the background - that segment, specifically):
Cinder’s alive. I am willing to bet my life on it. I doubt Miles and Kerry are just going to kill her off after she had so much build up from regaining her strength after the “Silver Eyes Encounter” with Ruby back during the Fall of Beacon. She’s alive and she’s gonna hunt down Ruby. 
N E O possibly may appear. (God I hope she does.) I really hope she does. I want to see her. Especially to see how she is dealing with the aftermath of losing Roman.
I also have a theory that she is probably going her own path at this point and that she is hunting down Cinder. From how Neo and Roman fought together ( how seamless and fluid their battle dynamic was), she and him were close. If anything, I believe she would blame Cinder for Roman’s death - after all it was very much obvious that Roman was practically forced into working alongside Cinder (sort of like how Adam was when he and Cinder first crossed paths).
I also believe Neo blames Ruby too for Roman’s demise. If Ruby hadn’t hit the button that opened Neo’s parasol that sent her flying away, Neo could’ve stayed with Roman and pretty much act as his escape route (as she has done before); she could’ve protected him. And had Ruby not done that, Roman probably wouldn’t have been so angry that he attracted one Griffon Grimm to, well, eat him...
I am so excited for what’s ahead for the rest of Volume 6. 10/10 CRWBY! Rooster Teeth, you really impressed me this time. (Now let’s see if this hype will last for the entire duration of the volume...)
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ankhlesbian · 7 years ago
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FE Femslash Week 2018: Day 3
Prompt: Shy / Butterfly
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Ship: Sully/Sumia
Title: Meet Cute
AO3 Link: Here
Sumia's day starts with a broken alarm clock and all the joys of running late, but it improves exponentially when an attractive new face shows up in the diner she works at. Also, there's horses.
Sumia’s day is off to a terrible start. Her 4 am alarm doesn’t go off, and it’s only thanks to a year of getting up this early that she wakes up only half an hour late. Of course, that still means she has negative time to spare. She crams her feet into her riding boots and brushes her teeth in the car, thankful that she always packs her waitress uniform in advance.
She pulls into Shepherd’s Farm only seconds before Belfire would’ve alerted the entire neighborhood to her imminent starvation. If you’re even a minute late to feeding her, she kicks up a storm like no other. The Shepherds have offered more than once to take over morning feeding, but Sumia already feels guilty that they’re letting Belfire board here basically free of charge. She doesn’t have it in her to accept any more favors, no matter how nice Phila and Emmeryn are.
There’s no time for a morning walk or ride, so Bel will just have to make do until this afternoon when Sumia actually has a free moment. Usually Bel gets her exercise from the lessons Phila leads in the afternoon, with Bel as one of the horses the riders can use. That’s officially why they don’t charge her anything for staying, but Sumia knows that rightfully she should still owe something. There aren’t lessons every day, including today. A farrier is scheduled to come by this afternoon, so all lessons were cancelled. Even though Emmeryn and Phila are already rich and retired, Sumia swears to pay them back someday.
Bel nickers her thanks as Sumia fills up her feed bucket. She pats the horse on her neck, combing her fingers through her mane. It would look nice in braids, but she hasn’t had the time lately. Between two jobs and her night classes at the community college, she’s lucky she has the time to see Bel at all during the week. She fits in a few more pats and some kisses before she has to return the dirty bucket and get going, waving at Phila as she sprints out the barn doors.
Her car screeches into the diner parking lot five minutes before opening. She grabs her uniform and scrambles inside to clock-in and change, cursing the shirt for being buttoned and her hair for being tangled. Everything is smoothed out in time for her to put a smile on her face and begin making her rounds to the customers.
The regulars are already seated, poring over the daily paper or tapping away at phones.
“Mornin’ Libra,” she calls brightly, setting down her tray lined with eight empty mugs and filling one with steaming coffee. Libra takes it off with a cool nod, too engrossed in the paper to say anything. She scoops the tray back up, balancing it with one hand and holding the coffee pot with the other.
She twirls around and starts to head to the next booth when suddenly she feels her foot catch on the ground. Not again! That’s the fifth time this month! Her future flashes before her. An angry boss, wasted coffee, broken mugs, and another stained uniform. She closes her eyes with a whimper, braced for the inevitable.
“Woah there,” Mumbles an unfamiliar voice into her ear, an arm wrapping around her waist to steady her. Her eyes fly open to meet the gaze of an unfamiliar woman, a tall woman, with red eyes and redder hair. It feels like there’s a thousand butterflies trying to escape from her stomach. Her face flushes and she tries to say something, but words won’t come out. There’s an awkward pause, and the brows in front of her furrow with concern.
“You alright there?” Sumia finally wrangles back control of her body and jerks away, bowing profusely.
“Yes! Thank you very much!” It shouldn’t be possible for there to be a stranger in a town with a population as small as this one’s, yet she’s sure she’d remember someone as stunning as this. The stranger rubs the back of her head sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here for some grub. Can I, uh, seat myself?” Sometimes truckers stop by on their way through, but she doesn’t quite give off that sort of vibe. Sumia puts her work smile back on, though she can’t help it if it’s far more genuine than her previous one.
“Of course! I’ll be right with you!” Unfortunately, as usual, the morning rush is so busy that she can’t spare the time to do anything more than take the woman’s order (a black coffee and an extra large breakfast hash) professionally. When things finally settle down, the woman’s already gone, receipt and cash sitting beside neatly stacked dirty dishes. There’s a note scrawled at the bottom of the receipt in messy handwriting.
“Name’s Sully. Hope to see you around :)”
And she left a big tip. Sumia’s done for.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
She’s free after the lunch crowd packs up, and she changes back into her farm clothes. Loose dusty jeans, her riding boots, and a plaid long-sleeved shirt. She’s feeling leagues better than she did this morning, so she ties her hair into braided pigtails and plops on her favorite slightly stupid looking cowboy hat.
The barn’s pretty empty when Sumia arrives. Phila must’ve let everyone out so they wouldn’t bother the farrier. Aurora, Cordelia’s gentle thoroughbred, is already tied up in the hallway of the barn. It’d be a pain for the farrier to chase down horses in the pasture, not to mention how easily they could run away if they got spooked, so the patients get to be tied up inside for their appointments.
Out of respect for the farrier, Sumia decides to muck the pastures first instead of the stalls. Any farrier worth their salt should already be immune to the smell of horses, but that doesn’t mean they want a wheelbarrow full of manure right under their nose.
She heads out, humming a jaunty tune. Bel just so happens to be in the first pasture, and she trots up to greet her, neighing all the way. Sumia smiles and caresses her briefly, but work comes first. If she hurries, she can finish early enough to take Bel for a walk around the trails. She probably shouldn’t ride her right after she gets her new shoes put on, but a nice walk in the crisp fall air should be fine.
None of the horses in the other pastures are as happy to see her as Bel, but she still makes sure to give them all a good pat as she goes. If she had more time, she’d be out here with them all day, every day. For now, she’s just glad she remembers their names.
After taking as long as she dares with the pastures, she dumps the manure into its pit and heads inside the barn through the doors opposite where the farrier is set up. They’re bent over a hoof, not facing her, decked out in overalls with a thick farrier’s apron tied around their waist. Sumia forces herself to mind her business, though this farrier seems to have a different build than the last one she remembers seeing.
She’s sweaty and smells worse than the horses when she finishes. Cursed stagnant barn air. She parks the empty wheelbarrow back outside the barn and leans against it with a sigh, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. The sun isn’t quite set, and she has an hour before her animal science class starts. She could head home and take an extra luxurious shower before grabbing dinner…. Or she could walk Bel and take an extremely quick shower before grabbing an extremely quick dinner. It isn’t even a contest.
She heads down to Bel’s pasture and gently lifts up a front hoof to inspect the new shoes. The work is impeccable, each nail in the right place and the shoe itself shaped perfectly.
“That one yours?” It’s a familiar voice, but she can’t place it. She looks up to see the farrier, sporting a shock of red hair.
“Sully!” she blurts. The farrier furrows her brows. Yup, that’s Sully.
“Do I know you?” Sumia takes off her hat and tugs at one of her pigtails.
“I waited at your table this morning at the diner. Couldn’t come down here with my hair like that, though.” Sully’s eyes light up with recognition.
“I never did catch your name,” she says slyly, leaning on the fence separating the two of them. Sumia holds out a hand with a smile.
“Sumia.” Sully shakes it. Her hands are calloused and warm. Definitely a farrier.
“I hope Belfire was good for you.” She offers. Said horse neighs, aware of her name being said. Sully waves a hand dismissively.
“Like a dream. She’s got a beautiful coat on her, too.” Sumia can’t help but beam at the praise.
“Don’t compliment her too much. Her ego’s big enough already.” Sully chuckles, running her eyes over the horse.
“She definitely looks like one of them stuck up kinds.” Bel whinnies in protest. Sully’s awfully tall, so Sumia steps onto the bottom rail of the fence to even things out. It’s still not enough. Maybe Sumia’s just short. Sully looks amused, still easily looking down on her.
“Is this your first time in town?” She can’t keep the hopeful edge from her voice. If the stars are in her favor, it’ll be her first but not her last. Sully nods.
“First day on the new job. I just finished moving in yesterday.” It seems odd for a farrier to just up and move to a nowhere place like this, but Sumia’s heard rumors that Olympians like to keep their leisure and hunt horses at estates not thirty minutes down the road from this place. Phila used to be one, and never actively denied the rumors, so there must be more truth to them than she thought.
“Do you have any horses of your own?” A very important question if she wants a future with Sully. Sully’s face brightens like a thousand watt bulb.
“I sure do. His name’s Cain. Buckskin quarter horse, only a couple years old.” Sumia whistles appreciatively.
“Where’re you keeping him?” Sully looks a little self-conscious.
“My own place, actually. He’s been with my family since birth, and the whole lot of use are blacksmiths, so the noise from the forge shouldn’t bother him a bit.” It’s all Sumia could ever want in a girlfriend. But, she reminds herself firmly, she’s getting ahead of herself.
“Are they from anywhere near here?” Sully shakes her head.
“Two states over.”
“Oh, wow. It must be awfully lonely being up here along so suddenly.” Sully shrugs a little, gaze sliding sideways.
“Well, I’ve already met one friendly townsfolk.”
“I’m glad I managed to make a good impression. I was a bit worried after almost spilling coffee on you, and all that.” She laughs awkwardly. Sully’s gaze turns back to Sumia, mouth quirking up at the corner.
“Actually, I was talking about Phila. Two then, if we count you.” Sumia pouts a little and resists the urge to shove at Sully.
“Well, I was going to offer to show you around,” she sighs dramatically. “But I suppose if my help isn’t wanted….”
“I said we can count you!” Sumia drops the act with a giggle.
“I know a trail that passes through a field with the most beautiful wildflowers you’ve ever seen. We should ride out there sometime.”
“I’d love to, but I am a little swamped with work this first week. But we could do dinner. Uh, should do dinner.” Sully’s face is beginning to match her hair. Sumia hides a smile as she pulls out her phone.
“My schedule’s a bit wonky, but I’d love to. There’s plenty of local little places around here.” Sully goes to take her phone, but pauses, face going even redder.
“Just so we’re clear, I mean as like, a date.” A brief pause. “I like girls.” Sumia can’t help but laugh at her.
“I do too,” she says shyly, looking up at Sully with bright eyes. Sully clears her throat awkwardly as she takes Sumia’s phone and types in her number.
“That’s, that’s great. I’m usually a lot slicker than this, just so you know.”
“I believe you,” placates Sumia. She doesn’t. Bel, getting impatient for her promised walk, noses at her back, almost sending her teetering off the fence.
“Ah, well, duty calls.” She kind of wants to ask Sully to come with them, but she is still on a tight schedule. She should limit distractions, especially ones as hot as Sully.
“I’ll see you around, then?” Sumia nods, hopping off the fence and saying her goodbyes before heading out the pasture gates and toward the cross-country trails.
She waits until she’s a good distance into the woods before she pauses, squealing and jumping with joy, just a little bit. She plucks a flower from the side of the trail and picks the petals off, one by one. Even the flowers agree.
For the first time in a while, she’s actually looking forward to tomorrow.
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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years ago
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9th December 2017
We allowed ourselves to wake up when we wanted. I mean, we had to be out by 1000 at the latest otherwise we would be charged, but we're always up way before then anyway. It was chilly at night and we did use the duvet. It was amazing. There's nothing quite like wrapping yourself up warm in a duvet at night.
Today, we were on the move to the Gold Coast. I've heard amazing things about this place so I was stupidly excited about it. I imagined it to be one of my favourite places. I was hoping it would live up to the name. It was only an hour and a half drive so we planned for the day.
I saw online that there was a deal for Dream World tickets. They were doing entry into the theme park, the water park and the sky point observation deck for $79 each. That's an absolute bargain in my mind. The observation deck itself was $20 each. I bought the tickets online as Steve was driving.
We arrived in Surfers Paradise around 1200 and my smile was from ear to ear. It looked amazing. It was a city but also a holiday destination. There were sky scrapers everywhere as well as palm trees. The sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We were driving round for a long time trying to find a parking space. We drove along the coast looking at the beach. It was a massive stretch of white sand and crystallised water. There were surfers everywhere. It was Australia's version of Miami.
We found a car park that we weren't sure we'd fit in. There was a limit bar above us and I was so worried we'd hit it. We were obviously miles off and we did get in without losing the roof. It was an expensive one but what else could we do? Every space along the beach front was full and you're always limited to time. I had a coin bag which is what I had collected them for, silly things like parking. I had a good $200 in coins so we were set for the trip.
We walked through the centre to get to the beach front. There were shops after shops. It reminded me of our favourite place in NSW – Manly. It had that relaxed vibe. People were there for the beach and that was it. Swimwear and surfboards.
We walked along the beach and I started to get hungry. I had packed our extra pizza and half of mine from last nights dinner into sandwich bags. We didn't eat the garlic bread either. We sat on the beach watching the waves as we ate. I was so content.
We decided to go up the sky deck as we were right next to it and it was on our to-do list. We had our tickets, sort of anyway. I purchased them and a confirmation email had come through. The email stated that 'this is not your ticket, they will come through in a separate email'. That separate email never came through. I rang them up and asked what was going on as I was waiting to use them. They said that as it was the weekend, the tickets wouldn't be through until Monday. We were meant to be leaving on Monday so they better had think of something fast! They said that if we just show the confirmation email, we will be allowed entry. Let's find out.
We walked to the deck and waited in line. I went up to the person and explained. She seemed very unsure and had to speak with her manager. They allowed us in which was good. I would've been very upset if we couldn't.
We waited outside the lift and the door opened. We had to go up 88 floors. We stood inside and the lift moves so fast. I looked at the ceiling and there was a camera showing what it looked like from inside the lift shaft. It was incredible how fast we were actually going up. My ears kept popping.
After about 30 seconds of going up, the doors opened. We walked out and the room was a 360 degrees circle with glass walls. It's probably my Dad's worst nightmare. We walked up to the glass wall and looked out – it was unreal. We did the sky deck in Melbourne but there's something pretty spectacular about seeing a beach go for absolute miles. It was really quite the picture. I was so happy and taking pictures like there was no tomorrow. Steve walked off and went to the bar.
I found two seats next to the window and sat down. The views were just incredible. I couldn't get over it. You have the most beautiful city to your left, with skyscrapers and palm trees, rivers, lakes. You then have the longest stretch of golden sand separating the ocean from everything. It was quite the picture.
Steve came over with a beer for himself and a glass of wine for me. It wasn't too expensive so we thought, why not treat ourselves? We sat there for a good 20 minutes chatting away, admiring the view.
Once we were finished with our drinks, we continued to walk around the perimeter of the room. It was a huge room, obviously with a bar. A lot of people were having their Afternoon Tea. The views continued to not disappoint. We decided to leave after we were finished and waited for the lift. First on the Gold Coast to do list – done!
We left the skydeck and walked along the beach front. Steve saw an advert for Mini Golf so we were walking towards there. It wasn't until I Googled to find out it was $30 each to play, that we decided against it.
Funnily enough, the weather started to make a turn for the worst. The winds picked up and the skies turned dark. We walked back to the car as quickly as possible. I was getting really quite, how do I put this? The only word I can really use is shitty (sorry Dad). I was quite clearly knackered and I really needed a nap, according to Steve. I was just being very snappy and sarcastic, argumentative. You know, the average.
We drove to our campground which was a cheaper one. We decided to go cheap and then tomorrow, we will go expensive. Maybe. 
I had found one on our camping app that was only a 20 minute drive out of the city. It was $25 for unpowered but there was showers, kitchen, hot water, and free laundry.
The rain was really coming down when we eventually pulled up. It was a lady who obviously had way too much land so she 'rented' it out. I guess a lot of Australian's have a lot of land though, look at the size of their country!
She lived in a forest although it wasn't a scary one. It was a large area with a lot of ground and trees on the outside with some dotted within.
We passed her little house where we had to stop to give her the money. It was chucking it down so it was a run to and from the car. She told us that we could stay on the gravel area which is what we wanted. We didn't want to get stuck in the mud, again!
We pulled up, emptied the bed and I was told to have a nap. He was being fair to be honest, I really was tired. I struggled getting off to sleep because I was over tired. It was getting later and darker and we really needed to get dinner going. Plus, Steve has to sit there in the bed as it's raining.
It started to stop so we got out, got the table and chairs out to make dinner. We had decided on cooking veg as we felt so unhealthy. We bought some veg earlier on in Coles. The plan was to fry them in seasoning and have cashews with them. We got the table out and it had to go behind the van so that the boot door would block the rain from us should it start again.
Steve chopped all the veg and I stirred. How exciting! I love our little portable gas stove. It's amazing. I wish we had them at home, especially when you're entertaining. One flick and it's on! I am so easily pleased though. They've probably been around since the dinosaurs...
Our dinner turned out to be amazing. It was so nice to finally have something which was boarder-line healthy (minus the nuts and oil they were cooked in). We had enough veg left over to do the same dinner again another time.
As we were finished, the rain started ever so lightly. I didn't think that we had particularly long before the heavens opened again so I rushed all the stuff over to the kitchen to get it washed.
There was a little camp group staying at the same place. I guessed that they often stayed as it was loads of kids and a few adults. The kids had little cabins to stay in with bunk beds. They all had dinner together and dessert. Some of the aboriginal said to me that they were doing a performance with the didgeridoo later on should Steve and I want to come over and watch. I would've loved too but I probably would be asleep the moment my head touches the pillow.
I went back over and Steve had put the chairs and table away to stop it getting ruined in the rain. We jumped into the back and the rain got heavier. How irritating. 
We had another car pulled up next to us – a slightly bigger version of ours. A high top. Steve was desperate to get a high top but that wasn't in our budget. I love our little van and I wouldn't change it for the world.
We played some cards before getting off to sleep. Or, well, at least tried. The camp group didn't end up playing the didgeridoo as I heard them ask if they could play hide and seek instead. Sounds great but it was pitch black outside and one of the kids went, “Let's hide under their van!”. Erm, how about no?! Don't go anywhere near my van.
They didn't, or so I didn't think they did. We fell asleep after about 15 minutes of listening to them running around, shouting and what not. You can't get annoyed, you just have to remember what it was like being that age, especially with nothing around you to keep you entertained.
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livelikebrent · 7 years ago
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Stop 5: Syracuse, NY
“She just has such a natural beauty. She’s one of the prettiest girls I know.” Brent adored Amanda and said this about her on multiple occasions. Brent adored Drew too. They were some of his best friends from back home in Wilkes-Barre. I adore them too.
Originally, Stop 5 was supposed to be Acadia National Park in Maine...but I simply did not carve out enough time for the trip (oops!). So, with that trip being postponed until the spring the obvious second choice was Syracuse to visit 8 month pregnant parents to be, Amanda and Drew! The last time Brent and I stopped through to visit Syracuse (rather briefly) was after we had gone camping in the Adirondacks in July of 2015. I remember we parked the Jeep at Forked Lake Campground and hiked maybe about a half mile to our spot which was right next to the lake and was picture perfect (until it rained later that evening). The site came with a picnic table and benches and whoever had the site before us, placed several tree stumps around the “fire pit”. So we set up the tent, hammock and walked around the area a bit.
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I started dinner while Brent went to get more firewood from the car. Then hopped in his hammock with a Bells Two Hearted Ale. Brent came back with firewood and flowers he picked along the way for me. After we ate we enjoyed the fire and beers before it started to downpour. We didn’t mind though as we planned on waking up with the sun the next morning to go on quite the hike.
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Pictured above is us a smidge tired and sweaty after an upwards hike for 3 hours and 4,626 ft. at the top of Giant Mountain in New York. I like hiking but I like to work towards something. That something could be a killer view, waterfalls or anything to keep me motivated. This was quite the view and I remember that the camera couldn’t truly capture the depths of the mountains and how beautiful the view actually was. I also remember Brent struggling a bit during the hike...at one point (I think we were about a third of the way to the top) I looked at him and told him we didn’t have to complete the hike and could just turn around. I could barely even finish that sentence before he looked at me and said, “I didn’t just beat cancer.” When he said the word “just” he drew out the “uhhh” in an annoyed voice. He said that if he could beat cancer and he could get to the top of the mountain. Did any of you just chuckle while hearing him say this in your head? I did. He was a determined and smarty-pants at times. That’s what I liked about him. Not only did he have motivation but determination.
Brendan and I pulled up to a cute little house with a Blazer in the driveway marked with a “LiveLikeBrent” sticker on the back windshield. Amanda, belly and all, came out from the garage led by Bear, their puppy. Bear is a gorgeous mix of German Sheppard and who knows what else and has the softest coat I’ve ever felt. Drew and Amanda gave us the tour of their home and property. During said tour, Drew said he was sold on the house just by the backyard. Their home sits on a decent sized lot with a backyard that backs up to the woods. There’s a slight up slope towards the back of their property where they have Adirondack chairs in front of a fire pit. I originally thought it was a pizza oven due to the fact Drew isn’t a stranger in the kitchen. Turns out that’s what he eventually wants to do with it. So obviously I’ll be back but only when that’s completed.
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After we got settled we hopped in the car and went to Emipre Brewing Co. for a late lunch and some beers. As we pulled up I didn’t realize how massive of a facility Empire was...I suppose the name is fitting. On the other hand, Drew couldn’t get over how packed it was. I mean, it was a Saturday afternoon. In October. In Syracuse. With perfect weather.
“Empire Farm Brewery, est.2016, is the largest Farm Brewery on the East Coast. Over 22 acres were developed for educational and beer production purposes. Boasting a new 60 bbl automated brewhouse, the Empire Farm Brewery is producing kegs and bottles for regional, national and international distribution. Bottled lineup includes 3 time consecutive Great American Beer Fest gold medal winner; Skinny Atlas Light, White Aphro, Slo Mo’ IPA, East Coast Amber Ale, and World Beer Cup gold medal winner; Black Magic Stout.  Located in Cazenovia, NY, the property also grows hops, lavender, vegetables, herbs, and fruits for use in the brewing process and to support the needs of Empire’s downtown brewpub.
The agricultural component was designed in conjunction with Professor Matthew Potteiger and the graduate student body from the Department of Landscape Architecture, State University of New York, College of Environmental Science and Forestry. The Empire Farm Brewery was the class project for ESF’s spring 2012 semester.”
Reading that makes the place sound somewhat dreamy, right? It kinda was. The inside was nice, still smelled somewhat new. The place was jammin’ and as we were ordering our beers and a lemonade for the mama to be, a table opened up. What was neat about the place was that they had long communal picnic tables and “round” tables made out of tree trunks which is where we sat. There is a patio out back with tables, a bar and several corn hole sets. I kept looking around not being able to get over the size of the place. We ordered some food and caught up with one another. Drew knew Brent from back in the day in grade school and had been friends ever since. Amanda met Brent through mutual friends later in life in high school. Brent mentioned to me the first time Amanda told him she liked Drew. It was at a concert of sorts (most likely moe. or something along those lines) where she said it and Brent’s reply was something similar to “Yeah, me too.” ... but she corrected him on what she actually meant. They’re a super sweet couple. The first time I met them was New Year’s Eve 2014. They were staying the weekend at Brent’s apartment in East Falls. I remember Drew cooking dinner for all of us at Danny and Dana’s place. He made quite the meal with nice steaks. The following day I remember learning that apparently eating pork on New Year’s Day is a Polish tradition. I think we even had some venison if my memory serves me correctly. At that point in time, I just knew Drew as the friend that could cook and Amanda as “the most naturally beautiful girls” Brent knew...and his best friends of course.
We ate, drank and tossed around baby name ideas. After Empire we decided to do “fall things” (with the rest of the state of New York) since the weather was so beautiful. We drove to a place called Tim’s Pumpkin Patch. Why did we drive close to a half hour and pass maybe half a dozen orchards and pumpkin stands just to go to Tim’s? Well, first of all it has a 4.4 star rating on Google...so there’s that. But in addition to pumpkin picking they have a brewery, bakery, animals and well, Amanda insisted. When we arrived, I bought everyone some farm feed along with beers and ciders before going to visit the animals. After we cooed over the baby goats, pigs and cows we stopped for some fresh apple fritters before heading into the corn maze. The maze was so difficult we ended up coming out where we began and probably didn’t even touch half of the maze. If the sun wasn’t setting we probably would’ve given it another shot. But at that point we wanted to pick our pumpkins, snag a quick photo of the parents to be and hit the road.
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When we got back to Drew and Amanda’s home we were greeted by Bear who quite honestly Brendan and I could not get enough of the entire visit. By the way, he is SUCH a good boy.
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We hung out for a while. Amanda and Drew then ended up taking us to a place called Seneca Street Brew Pub where I had a Cider Creek Smoked Up Cider. I thought it ruled and was very much alone on this. Give me anything and everything smoked and I’ll consume it...meat, cheese, beer and ciders. This brew pub was in the basement of a renovated church with a bottle shop on top. It truly didn’t feel like a church by any means but was still a cool spot. The bottle shop had dozens and dozens of locally brewed beers, ciders and some wines. I did fail to take a photo of this place. (I actually forgot to take a lot of photos over the weekend!) After we had a drink we walked down the street in downtown Manlius to IronWood Pizza for some dinner. It had a cool vibe inside and an extensive craft beer list. It had an alternative atmosphere with some cool graffiti on the wall in the main dining room and had somewhat industrial touches around the place.
After we ate we went back and the boys built a fire. There was a meteor shower the night before so we hung out in hopes to catch a meteor or two. Drew said he had been listening to some of Brent’s playlists and suggested that we throw one on. So we did. We played some of Brent’s music from Spotify and enjoyed the night. You can view and play Brent’s public playlists on Spotify right here. Note: I’m not sure if they will disappear once his subscription is not renewed. So please download or screenshot the playlists for future reference if you wish!
Sunday morning was a treat. Amanda and Drew have their Sunday ritual which is checking out the Central New York Regional Market. Brendan had already had his eye on visiting this place. The market has been there for YEARS and has Sunday flea markets, Saturday farmers markets and even serves as a live music venue occasionally. The market has several “sheds” which are extremely long structures with garage doors along the sides where vendor after vendor set up for the day. You can find pretty much anything there. Some people bring their junk, some have brand new items with price tag stickers still on them and then people who have some neat odds and ends. I walked out of there with three silver candle stick holders that just need some polish that I bought for a whopping $2. Amanda and Drew found a metal tub type bucket, kitchen tools and some Simpsons books...yes, as in the TV show. According to Drew the place was “empty” and gets packed in the summers. But I actually thought there were a decent amount of vendors there...but I would have no problem making the trip back up in the summertime. I LOVE flea markets, antique shops, thrift stores, indoor markets, outdoor markets, whatever sort of place that has potential for cool finds.
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Speaking of cool finds, we “found” some barbecue too. It was just about lunchtime and before Brendan and I even got to Syracuse that weekend, we decided we would go to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. I actually had no idea this place originated in Syracuse but had been to a location in Brooklyn several years back. We made it right before the Sunday afternoon rush and got a table in a booth. Amanda had mentioned a couple of times that they had solid bloody marys. She ordered a virgin and I told the waitress I’d take Amanda’s vodka. It was a really good bloody mary. It was spicy and whatever dry rub of their’s they rim the glass with was spot on. We started with their fried green tomatoes to share and then ribs, pulled pork, corn bread, mac and cheese were ordered...but I don’t even think that was half of what was order for the table.
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This photo above it definitely one of my new favorites. I’m full again just looking at this picture. After I ate my sandwich I could hardly touch the rest of my sides. Or even think about them. Everything tasted so flippin’ good but I felt as though I was busting at the seems. I remember telling everyone I needed to lay down to digest and slumped over in the booth. I have no idea how the boys pack it away.
Just like every trip I take, I find at least one worthy spot for a #LiveLikeBrent sticker. I think that most people would agree that Dinosaur was more than worthy. I spoke to the bartender and gave her the revised version as to why I was there and why I wanted this sticker in their establishment. She gave her condolences but was super touched to hear what I was doing to honor Brent. So if you ever find yourself at the bar of Dinosaur Barbeque in Syracuse a sticker for Brent is there just to the right of the tap system on the back ledge of the bar.
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We made our way back to the house to try and digest for a bit.The boys relaxed in the basement (which is massive by the way) and watched some of the Sunday football games. Amanda, Bear and I got in the car and went to Green Lakes State Park for a walk. It was a pretty drive and as you enter the park you also pass through what looked like a nice golf course. We parked the car and started to walk. Turns out the lakes are actually green. The two glacial lakes in the park lie at the base of a gorge. I learned that they are rare meromictic lakes meaning their layers within the water never physically mix. We walked a bit over a mile which made me feel better about the amount of food I had recently inhaled. As we walked we talked about losing Brent, when Amanda lost her father and how the boys have been back in Philadelphia. Ps. Philly Friends - This is the part where I tell you she misses you all and Drew wants me to tell everyone Syracuse isn’t that far...so you all need to visit them.
When we got back, the boys were snoozing in front of the television. Then Brendan showed up in the kitchen and made some coffees. Drew and Amanda’s home is decorated with flea market finds, family heirlooms and pieces they have found along the way. It’s got this farm house vibe but nothing that seems like you can just go and pick-up from the home decor section at Target. (P.S. -  There is NOTHING wrong with Target, by the way. I basically live there myself.) But I started asking about an antique cabbage slicer Amanda had hanging above the kitchen sink. I didn’t know what it actually was until she told me but see them all of the time now when out at antique shops. It turns out it belonged to her grandfather back in the day. They also have a couple of letter trays on the walls that hold little knick knacks. I think at their previous apartment they held stones as well. As I was asking about items around the house, Amanda pulled out a stoneware crock which held kitchen tools...and some actual tools. I didn’t realize it until Brendan started asking about the crocks but there are several around their home. Some for decor and others serving a purpose. They were really cool and completely Amanda’s style. Amanda also collects retro kitchen tools with the green handles. She actually just bought the one dead center in the photo on the counter at the market earlier that day. I think we decided it was a pastry/cookie cutter that you roll along dough. It had the shapes of suits in a deck of cards: heart, diamond, club, and spade. It was kinda neat. Amanda pulled out almost every tool and told us about them. She likes the way they look mainly but said when she’s out at the market a lot of people will try to paint the handles green to make them look like antiques and she tried to avoid the replicas.
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We finished up our coffee and played with Bear one more time before packing up. Drew woke up from his slumber but claimed he was awake the entire time. We said our goodbyes, packed up the car and made our way back south.This is the part where I remind everyone that even though Amanda and Drew have a little one due literally any day now...they still welcome visitors. This is also the part where I tell you Brent told me Amanda and Drew are having a boy (even though they don’t know the gender of the baby). Maybe Brent was having a “chemo brain” moment when he told me confidently that it’s a boy or maybe he just knew or maybe it’ll just be a coincidence. Or maybe...they’ll just have a little baby girl. Either way, I’m excited to see the little bundle of joy the next time I go to visit them upstate. Thank you so much for having us for the weekend, Drew and Amanda. We love you, Bear and the little one on the way!
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theglorydefender · 7 years ago
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~Ted Theodore Logan imagine ~
For anon x
 As the sun hit my eyes I slowly began to wake up, rubbing my eyes, until my mom stormed into the room. “Hurry up! We have to get there before the plane takes off!” Today was the day my family and me would start our new lives in California, San Dimas to be precise. My dad got a job offer he couldn’t refuse and to be honest, I do think we’ll have a better time in Cali than here in this old dull town. I got up and was ready in about half an hour and we headed off to the airport. The plane took off and I was ready to start a new, better life. After about two hours of flight we got to LA and went straight to our new house in San Dimas. It was located in what seemed to be a nice area to live in. A broad street with smaller houses and beautiful front yards on each side. As soon as I unpacked my dad got a call to go to this place near LA tomorrow so he could meet up with his new colleagues and we were invited to stay in the hotel with him as well. What a drag! I was so eager to explore the town but I guess it’ll have to wait until next week because this job thing will take about 6 or 7 days.
“Don’t be such a party pooper! View it as a short vacation” my mom said. “Ugh fine, I’ll go but it better be a nice place with a beach or something, I need a place for my daily walks..” Another early wake up call from my mom this morning..Thankfully, I packed my suitcase last night so I wasn’t in a hurry this time. We drove off and in about an hour arrived at this amazing place with a huge beach and an awesome hotel right across the sea. As we walked into the hotel I caught a glimpse of this tall guy who slipped on his bag because he was dragging it across the floor but I tried to hide my laughter because I didn’t want to seem rude nor make him uncomfortable.
“Come on Ted, hurry up!” a shorter man who appeared to be his father showed up and gave him the keys to his room. “Coming!..Damn it!” he said as he dropped his keys. Boy, he sure is a clumsy kid.
I got to my room, unpacked, took a quick shower and went straight to bed to take a nap. I love traveling and all but it sure makes you tired. I opened my eyes to the sound of music that could be heard from outside and looked at my watch just to see that it was 4pm already. I better get up and go for a walk to explore this place a bit. As I walked out of my room someone accidentally bumped into me while running and I dropped my backpack on the floor. “Oh my god I’m so sorry! Let me get it for u! I’m really sorry!” As I looked up in the state of shook because everything happened so fast I saw that tall guy from the hallway.
“Hey it’s ok, don’t bother..”
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to..I just..”
“No, really, it’s fine, it happens”
“Oh, I, I’m Ted by the way.”
“Hey Ted, nice to meet you, in this weird way I guess”
I didn’t really bother to look at him in the hallway because I was tired and really worn out but he was actually really cute. His hair was kind of longer, and he had these really sparkly brown eyes, puppy eyes. Ugh great, now I’m singing “Puppy Love” by Donny Osmond again..We were both heading towards the elevator so we got to meet each other a bit.
“Are you here on a vacation?” I asked.
“Well, not really. I’m here with my dad because of his job. You see, he’s a policeman and we come here every once in a while because he has some totally boring meetings. He’s never really here with me so I just hang out here by myself”
“So..you kinda know your way around here, ha ? Could you maybe recommend me some nice places to visit ?”
“Yeah sure! I’m actually going to one cool place now. It’s most triumphant! Wanna come ?”
I thought about his proposal for a few seconds, not knowing if I should accept. After all, we’ve just met! But..he seems like a nice guy..Oh whatever, I have nothing to do anyway, plus it would be nice to hang out with someone while I’m here.
“..Yeah, sure. Is it far ?”
“No, not really. It’ll take about 15 minutes to get there.”
We made our way to what seemed to be an abandoned hotel and a park.
“They closed this place two years ago but never really got rid of the stuff, they even have a record player there! Can’t believe no one stole it by now” Ted said, laughing and pointing to the hotel. We hung out at the park and he told me that he lives in San Dimas and will be a senior this year.
“No way! Me too! We just moved there, when summer vacation ends I’ll go to your high school as well”
“Wow that’s totally bodacious! What are the odds that we meet here..”
“Yeah I know, lucky coincidence I guess?”
“Sure is” he said while biting his lower lip in order to hide a smile.
After some time we got back to the hotel and for some reason, I couldn’t stop smiling because he was just, gosh I don’t know, but he was a really cute guy and his smile was adorable and..Wait, am I starting to have a crush on him? No way..no way.
We randomly bumped into each other the next morning in the hotel lobby and decided to visit the park again. We started hanging out every day and we would just go for walks and talk about random stuff, making each other laugh and all. There was something about the way he was looking at me, his eyes would get all big and he kept smiling shyly, like he was trying to hide a secret or something. He would tease me and awkwardly bump into me during our walks, not sure if it was on purpose or not but it sure made us both blush. It was our last night here before we headed home to San Dimas and Ted told me that morning that he’ll be at the old hotel around 8pm and that I should come. The time has come and I made my way to our secret place.
“Is that a dress?” he said the moment I walked into the hotel.
“Yes Ted, it’s a dress..” I said trying to look serious but I couldn’t help but smile at his statement.
“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing a dress, I thought you live in jeans!”
“Shut up Ted”
“What do you wanna do on our last night here?”
“Well, I don’t know..hey how about we go to that big ballroom or something, I know you’ve mentioned it before”
“I was hoping you’d say that”
This room was huge and some of the lights were still working, giving the atmosphere that romantic vibe. We were just walking around until I heard music playing from the record player. Ted found some cheesy 70′s disco tracks and we started cracking up and dancing like we were in “Grease” or something. I couldn’t help but admire his laugh and movements, he seemed so happy and was jumping around like a little boy, even though he was a 6′3 giant. After our little dance off we continued searching through the room and I found one of my favorite Fleetwood Mac records. “Dreams” started playing and it gave the whole room some sort of a magical vibe, making you leave all your worries behind and losing yourself in the slow rhythm and verses. Suddenly I felt Ted’s hand taking mine and leading me to the middle of the room.
“I never danced this slowly” he said putting his hand on my waist
“I guess there’s a first time for everything”
“I’m glad that..you’re my first time..I mean for a slow dance” he said shyly because he realized the double meaning of that sentence.
“I’m happy to be your first time”
We were moving slowly to the rhythm of the song as I was looking over the window and the beach, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. I suddenly felt him putting his hand on my jaw, turning my head around. We were facing each other, the closest we’ve ever been and I saw his lips part slowly only to meet mine a few seconds later. His lips were so soft, moving slowly as he was trying to be as gentle as possible. I don’t know how long did the kiss last but I felt his lips forming a smile after a while and our eyes meeting again.
“This was..the coolest summer ever” he said.
“It doesn’t have to end here..”
“Trust me, it won’t”
bonus gif for extra feels:
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death---dealer · 8 years ago
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No One’s Roasted Like Gaston.[Oneshot].
no one writes FANFICS LIKE EMILEE.
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Title: No One’s Roasted Like Gaston. Pairing: Implied!- Gaston x Reader. Rating: T. Words: 2,231. Summary: Gaston thought he was undeniable to women and even some men. Has he finally found his match?
There was nothing particularly notable about the early mornings, at least, not anymore. The sky above was it usual mixture of pinks, purples and some lighter hues of blue as the sun rose and lit up the clouds, giving them a rather unique looking glow. There was a small wind, but not chilling, and brought in the lingering scent of meadows and trees. You got used to those aspects and they slowly became the norm. You began to not notice them at all, and remarked them as being every day life. If one wanted to really shake things up in a morning routine, they would count the cobblestones that made up each walkway in the village. But, that’s the thing. No one ever wanted to shake things up. They wanted things to stay the same for that is the way they had been living for as long as anyone could remember. With change came the unprecedented fear that something terrible would happen as a result.
It was the hustle and bustle of such a small village did leave one breathless and forgetful on occasion if you didn’t pay attention to where you were going and why you were going there in the first place. If one was aimlessly walking in the morning time while the sun peaked into the valley, one might be trampled by those selling goods and merchandise. Some too expensive, and some not expensive enough and left you wondering whether you had been scammed or if you had gotten a good deal.
Aimless and mindless were surely your vibe this beautiful morning. You had nowhere to be, nothing to do or see and so you actually took your time to walk through the village during one of the busiest times of day. There was a variant of smells, some of which you happened to thoroughly enjoy. Fresh bread, springtime air, a small caddy on the corner before the village square that was selling freshly picked roses. Contrary to the flowers smelling divine, the actual vibrancy of the colors caught your attention and dwindled you to stay and admire them for longer than you had intended . Vivid reds, pastel pinks, yellow whites. It looked as if these flowers belonged immortalized in a painting for the entire world to enjoy.
Smiling at the vendor who was a few feet to your right, you plucked a light, dusty pink rose out of one of the buckets full of water. It dripped down your fingers onto your wrist causing a small shudder to shoot down your arm. Miraculously, it looked as if a skilled painter had dipped their brush in the sky during dusk, mustered up enough color to splotch onto the petals of the flower. Some parts were darker than others, but all around, it was a very delicate and soft appearing flower.
“Beautiful.” You could hear someone behind you say. And without the need to turn around and see the speaker, you were already well aware of who it was. Probably looking at himself in the reflection of a window again, you snickered quietly. It was as if you could see the bright red uniform from your peripheral vision and it was already giving you a headache. Setting the flower back into the metallic bucket, you gave the vendor one more glance over and polite smile before drawing your attention to your left, with the unsuccessful hope of getting out of there without Gaston being connected at your hip.
“Quite a beautiful morning,” The voice had followed you and was now singing rather closely into your right ear, “Almost as beautiful as I, but that’s another ravishing fact to talk about over-”
“If you say dinner-” You started quietly crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Dinner.” Gaston finished with a prominent smirk of satisfaction. It was a premature expression, you thought to yourself as you spared him a glance, as if he thought that you owed it to him to share a meal with him. There was no doubt though, as you looked at him and allowed yourself to really take in the details of his face, he really was beautiful, in a sort of cocky, full-of-himself way. The thought stuck in your mind, almost taunting you as your walking speed came to a complete halt. An unexpected action as Gaston accidentally bumped into you, a consequence of trailing to closely. Such an action caused you to stiffen up, your lips curling into slightly cynical smile.
Breathing in slowly, you turned around to face the narcissistic man. Regardless of your face and the underlying annoyance in your eyes, Gaston remained strong, tall and well… Gaston-like. With the sun now risen, his red coat seemed to be even brighter than it was before, his dark hair seemed to have a sort of amberish glow under the ebony and the light reflected off his face and gave way to the rather beautiful man.The lines that encased his smirk became more prominent as Gaston noted you were studying him.
Quick on the draw, you turned your head and looked around nonchalantly. You didn’t want to fuel the fire and so you had the task of steering the conversation, or trying to, away from any sort of flirtatious implications. “Where’s LeFou? He’s usually right next to you to shower you with compliments when things don’t go your way.”
The implied insult flew right over his head, or so it seemed as Gaston didn’t skip a beat on answering your question with a rather hasty, “He had a prior engagement this morning.” The disinterest in his voice caused you to raise an eyebrow in wonderment. You could tell that it was the truth, but if you did ask him what engagement that was, he probably wouldn’t be able to give you an answer without fumbling.
A couple people passing by glanced your way, seemingly fixated on Gaston and his knack for being abundantly flashy without even trying. You tried to ignore the digging sensation of eyes on you, something that happened to come along with talking to the most handsome man around. He also seems entirely invested in grasping some sort of positive attention from you, something that could play in handy. You rolled your eyes and kept your arms firmly crossed in front of your chest. Cocking your hip towards Gaston, you inquired, “Are you going to ask me in another fashion if I want to have dinner, or can I go?”
“Go where?”
You stared up at him with intense eyes and smiled sweetly with just a touch of sarcasm leaking through your voice, “Away from here. I can’t stand the smell of pretentious war heroes who think the world revolves around them this early in the morning.”
“Perhaps you could stand it in the evening,” Gaston rounded so he was directly in front of you. Placing his hands on his belt as if to emphasize something you’d rather not think about at the moment, he continued, “Over dinner.”
“I really wish I could. And I would...” You batted your eyelashes at him, “If I didn’t have a date to eat a plate of dirt this evening.”
His smile didn’t falter and if anything it grew in size. Gaston was rightly amused by your comebacks, some of which being sharper than anything he had ever heard spoken to him. There were a few things he was undoubtedly great at. The unspeakable of what happened in bed with another woman, firing guns, and being able to ingest and spit out comebacks with his own entail. “And what about tomorrow night?”
A breathless chuckle escaped your lips as you tossed your head back in mild agitation. It amazed you how persistent he was as this ordeal was now into its third month of constant obnoxious behavior on his part. Before this three month period you found yourself dancing around in, Gaston was rightfully after the most beautiful woman in town. She wasn’t interested, at all. And though Gaston knew this, he still tried. He liked a challenge, always took a challenge, and always won. But, Belle was not one to be won and Gaston had to give in once he realized that she was not in fact playing hard to get.
“I’ve got plans to sit in front of the fire and stare off into oblivion tomorrow night. Actually, I’ve got that plan for the rest of the week. It’s my favorite pastime. It’s so much better than sitting and listening to you tell me how you got that scar on the back of your right elbow over and over again. We both do know you got it after being cut with a piece of glass from a broken window. It wasn’t from some prime time war heroes dream.”
It wasn’t as if you despised him though. At the very least, you found Gaston tolerable and had managed to sneak in a few decent conversations with him since you had met him. Mainly, about his time in the war and very little about his life before. This shroud of darkness that covered the years before made you wonder if something had happened to him during his service and he’d rather keep it under-wraps because it made him appear weak or less perfect. He was a strong womanizer and he needed to be seen that way by everyone. Any sort of flaw wasn’t accepted or acknowledged.
Needless to say, all conversations one way or another turned into acts of flirtation and infatuation and left you wondering why he couldn’t see that you weren’t interested. Or perhaps, he saw that deep inside you had thought about the two of you together and he knows that pushing on the button of said unspoken desire would eventually lead to you accepting a dinner invitation. Because unlike Belle, you were a challenge that could be won with the right words. Not to say that you were easy, because you weren’t, but such power held over the strongest man you knew was something you used as an advantage. Mainly, to knock him off his god-like pedestal so he could come crashing back to Earth.
“I’ve got it!” He suddenly exclaimed, the booming tone of his voice throwing you off just a bit. “You’re not a dinner girl. Maybe, lunch? Better yet since we’re both here, why don’t you make me breakfast and I’ll tell you all about a different scar that’ll make you swoon right into my arms?” He was preening himself, or so it appeared. He straightened his belt first, then his jacket letting his fingers stray a bit too long on the golden buttons and then let his right hand slide across the side of his head to flatten any stray hairs. That alone drew the attention back to his face and his absolutely undying expression of smug handsomeness.
“Well, why not?” You laughed slightly, looking directly into his eyes without a wavering glance. “I’ll just let you eat all of the eggs I have. Tell me again, do you like them cooked or uncooked? Frankly, I can’t stand uncooked. It makes me sick, makes me gag and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot branch. Almost like I feel right now.” You shot Gaston one last smile before turning on your heel and walking back to your home. You knew he was going to follow you, it was just a matter of letting your previous words sink in.
The moment they did though, Gaston perked up, licked it bottom lip and trailed after you with a rather optimistic question. “Were you serious about breakfast?”
Bonus ending:
“Something about her is different, LeFou, I feel it.” Gaston stated in a manly manner, looking down at his much shorter friend. “She shows constant disinterest, has proven to be a challenge for me and yet she still allows me to come back and try again. Over and over  Why is that?”
LeFou drew a breath in and shrugged his shoulders, gazing around the village in absolute boredom. He wasn’t particularly big on conversations about relationships, let alone, such a meager small one that it didn’t seem to work on so many levels. But, this was Gaston. He needed to pay attention. And so, LeFou hesitantly spoke his mind on the situation.  “It sounds like she’s merely toying with you, Gaston.”
“Is that what it is?” The dark haired man looked down at his boots and smirked ever so slightly. “If so, is this how women feel when I happen to toy with them? It’s such a… Disgusting feeling… Almost as if my insides were rotting away and I could do nothing to stop it. I look at her, and it’s as if I want her to belittle me, as if I want her to speak to me in that tone that makes it sound like I’ve been scolded… It’s a disgusting, unsure feeling...”
“Are you going to give up?”
“Christ, no.” Gaston chuckled, his face showing true amusement at the accusation. “I’m going to get her, someday LeFou. The way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying any heed tells me that she’ll be mine one day. Despite her words to get me to stray away, I’m much smarter than that… I will have her, someday. She will be mine.” He repeated to himself, absolutely sure.
Hi guys! thank you so much for reading, I hope you all enjoyed that oneshot for Gaston! Uhm, I may make more, just depends how you guys like it! Reblogs and likes are way appreciated! Thank you!! -Em.
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