How does Violet Baudelaire tie her hair up into a perfect ponytail with a silk ribbon? Not a silk ribbon tie that works more like a regular hair tie, but a piece of silk ribbon that she ties into her hair. How does she create that perfect pony without her hair slipping out or looking like a tied up and tangled rats nest? Especially because she doesn’t double knot it! How the fuck does it stay????
Curses. Witches. Spells. The whole ordeal, it just gave you chills. Especially after that one time that you were stuck in a bad position and ended up being on the wrong side of a deal. Dean, had gone and been a dumbass who tried to get the Mark of Cain off. You didn’t know why the hell playing cards with a witch and purposely losing to loose some years of life was the answer, but he did it. Only, he lost more years her bargained for. When an old, grey haired man walked into the motel room that was rented for you and your two brothers, the first thing you did was grab your gun and aim it at him.
“Whoa! Calm down! I’ve been through enough tonight, I don’t need to add being shot to the damn list,” there was something about how they talked. But one look into his candy apple green eyes and you knew who it was.
“Dean? You look- different…” switching your gun back to safety, you couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit.
“Yeah, I went and got a haircut. Of course I look different! I’m as old as Bobby!” the yelling took the breath out of Dean, making him sit down and catch his breath.
“Watch it boy,” the old(er?) man behind Dean wheeled in the front door which was wide open. “Lookin’ good son,” the three of you, Sam, Bobby, and yourself, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Bad date?” Sam couldn’t help but pitch in. Not everyday your older brother ages like there’s no tomorrow. At the rate he was aging, there may not be a tomorrow for him.
“Ha ha ha, shut up,” in each ‘ha’ Dean gave off, a short wheeze followed it. Making you laugh once again.
“How many years did you loose, old timer?” even as you spoke, you giggled. He wasn’t amused.
“I initially gambled to lose twenty years, but somehow a few drinks later, twenty turned to forty,” wait, was he serious? “Added with twenty…” okay he was screwed with a capital ‘S’.
“You lost sixty years? You’re already thirty you moron! And the way you down greasy foods like it's air, you won’t live much longer,” the tone in your voice was like he always did to you when scolding you back in the day- wait, last time he scolded you was yesterday…this age thing was messing you up.
“Oh good, you can count and calculate,” the old man sitting on the bed tried to raise his voice but couldn’t, wheezes came out.
“Make sure he doesn’t move, he might give himself a damn aneurism,” grabbing your coat, you headed towards the door. Nobody bothered asking what you were doing because it was obvious, you were getting your brother back to being your brother instead of your grandpa.
“I want to make a deal,” the witch before you listened intently. “I’m 26- you take a certain amount of my years and when I win, you give them back to Dean and all the ones he lost,” he laughed at you.
“That hardly seems like a fair trade, sweeten the pot,” rolling your eyes and scoffing, you realized this wasn’t going to end well for you. Dean sooooo owed you.
“Every year I gain, you get. I’ll stay that age forever. So…we got a deal, or what?” by the pleased look on his face at your offer, you could tell he was all in.
Of course you won.
You deserved a beer. Too bad a two and a half year old couldn’t drink beer…The boys and Bobby opened the door to be greeted by the witch who held you in his arms. Nobody questioned anything. Dean was himself, and well- you weren’t. He set you down and you did ran barefoot over to your oldest brother.
“Bean!” you had no idea what had just happened, it was like any other day in your life, and this all seemed normal. “Shiny,” the tiny hands connected to your body reached for his Samulet. But he pulled away.
“No, we don’t touch that,” it was like he had to teach you everything all over again. “So uh, any ideas on how to get her to the right age again? I’m not going through the toddler stage a second time…” every word he said was just like nonsense to you. Big sentences that confused you.
“Why not?” Sam walked I’ve and took you from Dean. “I forgot how cute she was as a little kid,” as if on cue, both of your hands reached up on both sides of his face, grabbed a handful of hair directly from the root, and pulled.
“Still think she’s cute? I don’t know about you, but I’d much prefer the annoying adult brat child instead of this one,” Dean cracked open a beer, sitting down at the table.
“Well until we figure something out, looks like we’re stuck with her like this,” wheeling over to you, Bobby reached upward and took you from Sam, setting you in his lap. “We can take turns babysitting and whoever isn’t scheduled, looks for a cure for this,” he continued taking while you were busy playing with the wheels on his wheel chair, trying to copy what his hands did.
24 Hours In
Well your first night as a kid again was interesting. Sleeping situation was a problem at first, but Dean insisted Sam shared a bed with you. He must’ve remembered your potty problems at bedtime at this age because you wet the bed, and on Sam, in your sleep. Nobody was amused. Well Dean was, until the smell hit him. As punishment for his little prank, Dean got to bathe you. He’d forgotten how sensitive your stomach was to water either a little too hot or too cold for you, which ended with you throwing up on him.
“Forget the water has to be the same temperature as her body?” Sam poked his head in the door at the sound of Dean making a gross sound and you crying.
“Shut up, can you take her so I can shower and get this crap off of me?”
It was like an endless cycle of them using you for pranking each other.
Bobby was busy doing research so he wasn’t around to see it. He’s probably treat them like the children they were acting like…and watching.
48 Hours In
Sam was off helping Bobby and Cas with research so it was just you and Dean at the bunker. The worst time of the day was coming up: Nap time. Dean had tried everything to get you to go down just for an hour at minimum, but had no luck. He set you in the room, you cried until he came back. He left the door open, you cried until he came back. Put the TV on for you, guess what? You cried until he came back. Finally he realized there was no way in hell you were sleeping unless he was laying besides you, just like every normal nap time you had back when you were supposed to be this age.
Reluctantly, Dean crawled under the covers with you in his bed, seeing as your pillows were wet from tears. Instantly your tiny body snuggled directly into his. He was laying on his left side and had you facing him, holding you into his chest.
The pointer finger on your right hand began twirling what hair it could from his head around your finger.
“Fre-tels.” you half yawned the words.
“What?” pulling you back a little, he looked into your sleepy eyes that were barely even open.
“Fre-tels.” your hand pulled away from his strand of now messy curled hair and placed an open palm on his right cheek. “Fre-tels.” he couldn’t help but smile.
“You want to play the freckle game?” a sleep nod was all he got in return. Crying took a lot out of you. “Start counting then, Princess,” bright green and hazel mixed eyes opened in front of him as your pointer finger from the same hand that was once on his cheek, extended in a crooked way.
“One.” the finger landed directly on one of his freckles. He repeated what you did, only his finger landed on your face counting out loud as you did.
“Two.” you found a freckle placed on his chin. It was the only one there, all alone in that one section on his perfect face. Only able to be seen up close. He returned with his own second freckle right on the tip of your nose. You giggled a little as he tapped it.
“Tree.” he made his own giggle as you mispronounced the next number.
By the time it was your turn, you were our cold. This game always worked before, looks like nothing changed.
1 Week In
Both your brothers continued switching back and forth on babysitting duty. Cas wasn’t trusted enough to be in charge of a young child so he didn’t get to watch you on his own. Bobby constantly worked at finding you a way out of this mess so he never watched you.
Today was Sam’s turn. Dean had left a few hours ago and the Rapunzel Disney movie you guys had just finished was over.
“Punzel braids.” sitting on the bed with your feet dangling down onto Sam’s shoulders who sat on the ground, you reached for his hair. He must’ve sensed you were going to grab hold because he moved. His head was pretty tender since you’d been de-aged and had an obsession with yanking on it.
“No, Y/n. We don’t touch brother’s hair,” he turned around to look at you but was greeted by the biggest set of puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen. “I forgot you learned that from me…”
An Hour Later
“Well it took a week, but we finally found a-” Dean stopped talking at the site of the tangled and knotted rats nest resting on Sam’s head. With a very happy kid sitting behind him making it worse with all sorts of tools: a fork, hair brush, tiny pink clips, a few hair-ties, hair spray, and a straightener you thought was working but wasn’t even plugged in.
“Glad we found a way to reverse this because…I don’t know how much more of this I could take,” the sound of your humming was in the background as he spoke. “By the way, I might need help brushing this out…”
Later The Next Day
You were back to your proper age, everything was normal again. Well….
“I’m so sorry again, Sam…kids huh?” a sheepish smile played on your lips as you set down his salad you’d made.
“Well now when we want him to get a haircut, we know how to make it happen,” Dean walked by, brushing the short hair on his younger brothers full head of hair.
“I swear, I’m getting back at you for this, Y/n,” oh he would hold his promises. And he did a pretty good job too. He had short hair, and you had bright blonde hair instead of your beautiful black natural color. Family problems caused by witches…
a/n: The OC has a name in this story: Alexis Yuen TianYu (元天鱼) which means “Sky Fish” so Tao will sometimes call you “Little Fish” or “YuYu” in later chapters. Also Tao will call you, “Nanrenpo” 男人婆, which is an insult that can be translated as “She-man”. Basically, he’s insulting you that you’re not feminine. “GongGong” 公公, is the term imperial people used to call eunuchs, so you are basically calling Tao “dickless” xD.
Chapter o1. Huang ZiTao
Accompanied by the obscurity of sight, musty stench flooded up your nostrils and clogged your throat. You held your breath as your back hooked against a layer of plastic. Drips of sticky honey and spice streamed down your calf. A single motion heightened your senses by miles and lengths. You curse under your breath as your lungs begged for air. A whiff of rotten citrus welcomed its stay into your tangled body. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened, spoiling your last efforts of incognito. In the nick of time, large hands clamped over your lips and successfully muffled your sneeze.
“Gross,” he hissed in a whisper, his fingers stretched apart like legs of a spider to rid of your half snot, half saliva combination but he doesn’t dare to move so you ended up having to smell and taste the scent of your own regurgitation in his slimy, muddied up hands.
“Huang, get your filthy hand off me,” you tried to say but under his clamped palms, your words were reduced to a stifled whimper.
In the most possible worse timing, a fly landed atop your nose. Keep calm, Alexis. Keep calm! Your eyes crisscrossed as the insect’s legs traipsed one by one up the bridge of your nose, like an acrobatic performance. The mere appearance of a blurry opaque dot was enough to cause your stomach to flip flop. Your brows caved in and tears almost gathered in your eyes.
“Hu-Huang…Zitao…” you stuttered and half-begged for him to swat the bug away.
To your surprise, the normally calm and cocky tanned skinned man flinched back in fear. His movements squeezed bags and bags of litter until holes spurted out banana peels, unfinished soda pop, and half-filled plastic bottles.
“Fu*k Huang,” you cursed when something jabbed at your rib.
But he continued to bury himself deeper and deeper into the shiny black bags.
“STOP MOVING!” you shouted as the dumpster swayed back and forth in correlation to Tao’s frenzy.
On instincts, his limbs flailed and head jerked. Goddamnit. The fly was already gone but now the new dilemma literally shook you back and forth until you felt seasick. With one last tug from the young man, the two of you, along with the quadrant of rubbish were sent flooding out into the narrow alley. A strained groan escaped your lips as your elbow landed hard against the pavement.
“God damn it, Huang!” you got up, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled the tall, lanky male down to meet you face to face.
This was ALL his fault. THIS WAS ALL HIS DAMN FAULT. Triads!??! WHAT TRIADS?!?! Your head whipped from left to right with your predator eyes already accustomed to the pitch black without the aid of night goggles. THERE WAS NOT A SINGLE FLY IN THE DARK ALLEYWAY (WELL, there was one BUT THAT ONE FLEW AWAY).
A drip of hotsauce trickled down from your heap of matted hair, into your eyes, and you screeched. The male was subsequently released to free your hands to deal with the flaming sriracha that caused your eyes to spill of salt. Beside you, the young man cradled his stomach and laughed his ass off at your mishap.
“I hate you, Huang!” you shouted, pretended he was the fly from before and swatted him away. Though, he wasn’t in any better position. His hair was now dyed a reddish brown, ash residue clung along his tiny porcelain face, and upon squinting, you could see a long gash running up his right bicep.
“Argh~~~~” you kicked at a crushed can and habitually maneuvered your clammy fingers through your hair, only to get them tangled into a rat nest mess of a mane.
“I’m gonna kill–”
Two low buzzes sounded from both of your pockets. Suppressing your wrath, you dug into your drenched cargo pants, and swiped the phone.
“Yuen, where are you and Huang?!” the impatient voice of your superior questioned.
“Coming. Reporting back, right away!” you replied.
Throwing your device back into your pocket, you gave Tao one last death glare before crossing your arms and heading back to the police station with him trailing along.
Of all the guys in your department, you had to be partnered with the residential playboy, Huang ZiTao. Not only was he unreliable and capricious, he also had prince disease and treated the job like it was a game.
“$@#%@$%%,” you cursed under your breath as the two of you stomped your way onto a bus. Fellow passengers’ eyebrows caved in horror, a few backed away in fear, and some even went as far as to tell you two “beggars” to get off. You threw the guy one of your fire-raging glowers, where your eyeballs literally darted out and the veins along your neckline had a life of their own.
“#@%@$%#%$%,” you mumbled under your breath and clenched your fists.
“Chillax, man,” Tao patronized, earning him a swift jab on the stomach, which you expected him to easily dodge, only, he doesn’t. You raised your brow at him but sighed when the fire finally calmed in your heart.
Your head rested lifelessly against a metal pole as your lashes flapped shut. You didn’t understand why God would allow something like this to happen. And by this you meant Huang ZiTao and being thrown into not only the same training camp, squad car, but now being permanently teamed up as partners. He and you…you and him…it was like two sides of a coin; they never ever should meet. He liked mornings, you were a night owl. He was a rich heir but applied to be a police for the thrill, you were dirt poor with the will and heart to protect and save people. He was extremely laid back and you…you were a perfectionist. Sighh…
“Nooo! I almost beat the record!” he whined as his thumbs almost punctured into the LCD screen of his Vertu phone, which you could easily pay half a year’s rent with.
Same fate, different people.
You frowned and looked at him without bothering to disguise your eyes of pure judgment.
But really, Alexis Yuen TianYu, you’re just jealous, aren’t you? If only you got a little support growing up, things would be different, wouldn’t they?
Sighing again, you let the abrupt halt of the bus toss your body from left to right.
“Come on, Huang,” you sighed, flicking your wrist purposely on his phone as you got up and smirking when he gasped and pounced forward to catch his luxury device.
You bowed to the driver in quiet apology for covering his vehicle with your stench. He shooed the two of you away with his repulsive shake of the head.
“Whao. Alex, ZiTao. What the heck happened to you two?” one of your colleagues, Kim Jongdae, inquired as soon as you carded in.
You rolled your neck and welled your brows to your partner as if questioning him as well.
“Triads were chasing us so we went to hide,” Tao’s shark teeth glittered under the blinking fluorescent lights.
You scoffed. Each step toward the heart of the station resonated with squeaks.
Your fingers traced along the door handle of your immediate superior’s office. Tao knowingly knocked for you.
“Come in!” a deep voice answered.
With the swing of the door, the two of you stepped into the five-star lieutenant’s office. Lined on the tips of your toes, you meticulously stapled the lonely patch of untouched rubber of your combat boots against the crystal marble, careful not to leave any soggy residue for the janitor’s to clean up.
The middle-aged man blinked several times, his eyes enlarged out from his sockets, peering from Tao to you and back again. His lips parted but no words came out. In the moment of silence, a banana phloem managed to slide from your disheveled locks and flop onto his desk. It left a streak of sticky goo. With an awkward and nervous laughter, you quickly cupped your hand and dusted it off.
He cleared his throat. Like a dog would her trainer, you instantly popped your shoulders and broadened your chest up. Tao did a sluggish replica.
“Someone explain to me what happened,” the uniformed leader clicked his tongue against his cheek and tried to sound as calm as possible.
You side-eyed your partner but he doesn’t turn to you at all so you resorted to subtly sliding your feet and nudging him. He remained unfazed.
“Alexis?” the head called, his dwindling patience evident in the way his nose was now hidden within his shirt to subdue the stink enough to hear your explanation.
“Um…uh…I…we…” you fumbled, unsure of how to explain this odd situation.
You kicked Tao again, this time harder but he just smiled in response. Arghh. How much you wanted to punch his face right then and there. And lather doggie poo onto those pee-yellow strands of hair. It was as if he couldn’t decide between going full out rebellious blond or stick with black so he settled for the color of urine.
“Alexis Yuen,” the low voice spoke while its owner tapped on his desk three consecutive times to gather your attention back from your off-tangent mind.
“We were running from a group of triads,” Tao spoke up in a super serious tone, plausible enough to make the lieutenant drop his stern approach. You internally facepalmed. Great, now you were going to have to write a ten-page report detailing why said triads were chasing the two of you when you were put on night watch outside the local brothel, located on the opposite side of the city.
Planting his palms against his face, the superior shook his head and waved his hand to dismiss Tao and you, “Written report in my office after the two of you shower, okay?”
“Yes, Sir!” you saluted, masking your yawn as a sigh of relief.
You dragged the lethargic Tao out of the office.
“And pick up that orange peel!” the older man ordered.
You leaned over to obtain it but Tao kicked it away.
“Ass,” you grunted and craned your back over again to fetch the soccerball fruit skin, only, Tao picked it up and tossed it into the trashcan. It swirled around the rim before plopping down, like a basketball shot into a hoop. You sarcastically clapped your hand, rolled your eyes, and stalked off to grab your towel and bucket for your long awaited skin renewal treatment.
“Out of Order.” You read the sign, in front of the women’s shower, three times, before you forced yourself to take a deep breath and stalk off to the men’s locker rooms.
“Out of order,” you spoke as soon as you caught sight of Tao’s crooked brows eyeing you from head to toe.
“You wonder sometimes…who clogs up the drains? There are only three women in this department. One of them being the janitor,” the tall man laughed as the two of you waited in line to use the bathing facilities. He rocked on his heels and hugged his bucket against his chest.
Two bulky men stepped out of the shower, fully naked. Actually, they were fooling around and playing “who can grab the peeeeen” first while shouting, “no homo”. Huang ZiTao’s head whipped around to target your face for any type of reaction but you didn’t even bat a lash. Instead, you pushed forward without a single “excuse me” and entered one of the two empty shower stalls. Tao entered the one next to yours.
Clothes were shed and tossed over the open-top cubicle. Water splashed against your soiled skin; soap lathered into your love-craving scalp. A puddle of greenish-brown pooled beneath your feet as you tilted your neck slightly to welcome the coolness of fresh purification against your body.
From your peripheral vision, you spotted an ivory-hued object hover over the stall. A towel was thrown from above. Long arms reached out and pulled it taunt so that a canopy covered over the ceiling-less space. Your wet lashed peeled apart while your arms raced to cover your chest.
“Huang ZiTao, what the hell are you doing?!” you asked once you caught the familiar cat-eyes.
He secured a corner of the towel through a slit between the two stalls.
“Pfftt…I’ve seen bigger ones,” he nonchalantly teased. A smirk appeared on his lips as soon as the befuddled expression casted over your face.
“Huang ZiTao!” you shouted as he slid down back into his stall. His laughs echoed down the facility halls when you raged kicked the wall a few times in anger.
Curling your slender fingers around the top ledge, you pulled yourself up and over. The towel rested atop your head. Your legs dangled and your body pressed against the tiled wall.
“I didn’t see anyth–” Tao amusingly began but gasped when he caught on to what you were doing, “Yuen TianYu, what the fu*k are you doing!?!” he hissed, slapping his thighs together and covering the in between ;);) area with his hands.
You snorted, “I’ve seen bigger too”.
Your partner’s mouth fell agape as you winked, stuck out your tongue, and threw your head back laughing until your hold on the ledge began to gradually weaken. A swipe appeared from your left but you dodged it skillfully by dropping yourself back into your shower stall. Your little toes wiggled in amusement, heart thumped loudly into your ears, and your lips trailed from one ear to the other.
Drying yourself off, you wrapped a towel around your body and tucked the end in on the center of your chest. Your bare feet dribbled excess dewdrops onto the gravel floor, all the way until you reached the drawers. Tao’s footsteps followed shortly after, awkwardly masking away the derogatory whistles from some of your male colleagues. He stopped behind you, his shadow completely bleeding into yours as if you were two souls finally reunited as one.
Without turning to observe him, you bit your lower lip and rummaged through the drawers for a small t-shirt. Though, you had to admit, at one point or another, your focus faltered at the sound of Tao’s husky growl. Still pretending to dig through the washed clothes, you side-eyed to catch your partner’s hand grabbing tightly and twisting another man’s wrist. The latter groaned in pain, his facial expression withered in absolute torment.
“I wasn’t going to pull her towel off…I swear,” the guy mumbled defensively, though, you only caught half of what he said because you were too busy hopping up and down to see if any bathroom stalls were opened so you could be cozily clothed again.
“What the eff are you two doing?” you frowned, throwing Tao another one of your signature judgmental oh-you’re-such-a-troublemaker looks.
Without waiting for an answer, you casually skipped away. Your feet once again left wet marks along ceramic, much like a newborn baby’s foot stamps on their birth certificates.
The scent of daisies and daffodils amassed along the cilia of your nose. Greedily, you sniffed in a few more times to rid of the nightmare stench from before. Satisfied with your mini therapy session, you swung open the door. Only, the door swung back and hit against your forehead.
“Oww,” you groaned, rubbing your bruise.
A partly smirking, partly furrowed-brow Tao hovered above you. You raised your brow at him for the fiftieth time of the day – seriously, you were contemplating whether you should just get a left raised brow tattooed onto your face.
“There’s five opened stalls,” you announced blankly, unknowingly keeping your eyes upward to avoid staring at his chiseled torso, dripping wet biceps, and toweled covered lower area.
His expression softened for a brief moment before he replaced them with a look of annoyance.
“This is my stall, Nanrenpo*,” he leaned in and breathed into your face.
“Oh, is it? GongGong*?” you mocked back.
“What did you call me, Yuen TianYu?!” he growled, his adam’s apple rippled.
“What you heard the first time,” you sarcastically smiled.
The fuming young man attempted to pounce forward to grab you but you caught him by surprise and jabbed him in the stomach. Your head rolled backward in full fledge laughter at his foreign vulnerable state.
Immaturely rejuvenated by a simple child’s play, you grinned like a complete fool, plopped back onto your little desk in the office and swiveled a few times on your rotating chair to ride out the high. Sometimes, just being able to bathe in lukewarm water and rid of bodily sweat was such a blessing in itself.
“Yuen, report due in fifteen!” your boss cut your mini celebration short.
“Yes, Sir,” you answered.
But five minutes passed and you only managed to type the introductory paragraph.
Frustrated, you scanned the area for your missing partner. Argh, where is Tao when you need him? Oh…oh right, probably purposefully stalling time again so he doesn’t have to write the report.
You angrily jabbed at the keyboard, fuming and curating your own voodoo enchantment under your breath. Another two minutes passed and you successfully checked off one page.
A dirty blond stud skipped into the battlefield, his lips pursed into a circle, whistling a familiar tune you can’t quite get a grasp on. Intertwined in his hands was a takeaway carton wrapped in a plastic bag. Though admittedly, you heard your tummy grumble, you shot him a death glare and emphasized your distaste by stabbing your fingers onto the defenseless keys.
Tao casually plopped down onto his seat, next to yours. The smell of honey walnut shrimp fried rice and your favorite wonton soup took your breath away. When he bit the wooden chopsticks apart with his canines, your fingers effortlessly lifted from the keyboard to reach forward to the food entrancing you.
Chopsticks whacked the back of your hand causing you to yelp in pain.
“Didn’t get you any,” Tao smirked and began to slurp up his meal.
You snorted and backed away.
“Knew you were that type of a person,” you murmured under your breath.
With a sigh, you went back to typing and forcefully pushed back the idea of satisfying your empty stomach until at least after the report was submitted. Only, your self-pitying thoughts stopped as soon as chopsticks appeared before your lips. A honey dipped shrimp wiggled in front of you. Swallowing your saliva, you tried to ignore the bait, but your belly roared over and over again. After all, you hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
Surrendering to the temptation, you opened your mouth wide and leaned in to gobble the glistening seafood, but it started to swim off. Tao playfully swerved the chopsticks away and into his mouth.
“HUANG ZITAO!” you shouted, raging in scorching flames.
He chuckled while you scoffed and rolled your eyes in aggravation.
“Of all the people, I had to be stuck with an ass,” you mumbled, once again taking your fury out on the innocent keyboard.
Sighing in contentment, Tao scooped a wonton into his spoon with the perfect level of soup base, blew on it, held his hand under, and began to maneuver it into your direction. But his sincere plans were spoiled when a plate of avocado sandwich was gently pushed in front of you. You peered up to see the residential nice guy, Zhang YiXing.
“You must be starving, Alex. My treat,” he smiled.
“Thanks!” you grinned back and flushed a bit at the sight of his sweet dimpled grin.
Beside you, Tao’s face fell. He stuffed the wonton into his mouth and mocked in a high-pitch voice, “Thanks~”.
Rolling your eyes, you blocked him out, turned back to the white screen, and, like a starving beast, happily chomped on your sandwich. Crumbs and flakes flew everywhere.
“Jeez. Eat more lady-like,” your partner cautioned, dusting the tabletop with his fingers disguised as a mini broom.
“Whatever, Huang,” you took a deep inhale, no longer having the energy to play games with him.
“That’s why you’re going to be a ‘leftover woman’,” Tao teased.
Your fingers paused for brief moment. A hint of regret rivaled on Tao’s face. But you blocked the negative thoughts out, grabbed a random binder, and hurled it at your partner who was already curled up in a defensive mode.
“Yuen! Huang! Two minutes! Stop the horseplay!” the lieutenant tapped on his watch.
Immediately, you dropped the binder and settled back into your seat.
“Report’s not gonna do itself…” you sighed in defeat and flexed your tight fingers.
Tao pushed his food aside.
“How the hell do I explain the fact that we were hiding in a dumpster all the way on the other side of the city, Huang ZiTao?” you asked, not really expecting an answer.
“Pfft,” he started, took the keyboard from you, cracked his knuckles, and began to type with a forty-five degree smirk that you vowed to wipe off his face one day…
a/n: HIIIII EVERYBODY! HOW HAVE MY BUNBUNS BEEN?!?! I MISSED YOU GUISE.
₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ I actually wrote this story in January/February (this was completed before Glass Flower) but didn’t have time or motivated to read through it. Like I mentioned before, this story is a little more light-hearted and borderline crack. The middle chapters (I think beginning end of chapter 5 [esp. chapter 7 and 8] starts getting really good) :D right now, we are still getting introduced to the characters!
Hope you guys enjoyed! For those new to Panda Island, I update one chapter daily ;) so like, comment, follow wooohoooo. For more of my stories click here >>Story Archive Master Post<<
You never really minded being the designated driver, as long as it meant everybody got home safe. However, the morning after was a hell of a different story. Let’s just say the guys were the grumpy, cuddly type of hung-over teens, especially Ash.
Always being the first one up (whether everyone was hung-over or not) has it’s perks. You do you hair quickly, throwing it in a messy ponytail and not even bothering with makeup, knowing very well you won’t be going anywhere today. Heading to the kitchen, you begin to gather all the things you know the boys will want. You’re basically a pro by now.
“Y/nnnn,” the voice is hoarse and whiny, but you can tell its obviously Calum.
Tony snapped his fingers in front of Clint’s nose. This won him one partially opened eye. He considered it a victory. “Instructions,” Tony repeated, drawing the word out. “Do you have them?”
“He has them,” Steve said, sounding too amused for Tony’s peace of mind. He set the suitcases down on the floor by the elevator. “It’s fine.”
“Not fine,” Tony said. “Clint. Focus. Instructions.”
“Why am I awake?” Clint mumbled, squinting at nothing. He shoved a hand through the tangled rats nest of his hair. His pajama pants slipped low on his hips, and he dragged them back up with a yawn.
Tony threw his hands in the air, and Steve ducked his head to try and hide a smile. “Because you’re going to be responsible for DJ in about fifteen minutes,” he said. Clint turned his squint in Steve’s direction, his face a mask of confusion, and Steve patted him on the shoulder. “Let me get you some coffee.”
“I don’t think coffee’s going to do it, I don’t think a brain transplant would do it,” Tony pointed out.
“It’ll be fine!” Steve said, heading back up the hall.
“Not fine,” Tony groused under his breath. “Absolutely not fine.” He leaned in. “Clint. I am trusting you right now.”
“Well, that’s your fucking mistake, isn’t it?” Clint asked, stretching, and nearly lost his pants again.
“Those things come with a drawstring, don’t they?” Tony asked.
“Broke,” Clint said.
Tony stared at him, nonplussed. “How do you keep them up normally?”
Clint shrugged. “I tuck the waistband into the top of my underwear.” Tony stared at him. Clint stared back. “What?” he asked, hitching his pants up.
“I suppose I should be thankful that you’re wearing underwear,” Tony said.
“Living the dream,” Clint agreed. He scratched idly at the plane of his stomach. “Shouldn’t you be leaving now?”
That was when Arya missed her brothers most. She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But all of them were gone. She had no one left but Sansa, and Sansa wouldn’t even talk to her unless Father made her. (AGOT)
arya misses her brothers from the moment she arrives in kings landing. whether in the red keep or on the streets she’s alone and sad without the boys who were the ones she spent the most time with
A whooping gang of small children went running past, chasing a rolling hoop. Arya stared at them with resentment, remembering the times she’d played at hoops with Bran and Jon and their baby brother Rickon. She wondered how big Rickon had grown, and whether Bran was sad. She would have given anything if Jon had been here to call her “little sister” and muss her hair. (AGOT)
as far as im concerned rickon is still among the living but….i have to acknowledge he’s probably going to die. which just makes arya wondering how big he’s grown devastating. its reminds me of cat hoping robb will grow taller. she will never get to see her “baby brother” grow up. the news of his and bran’s deaths later will crush her too. arya also wonders if bran is sad. even when she’s fighting for her life, arya stills thinks about bran’s circumstances. he might be safe at winterfell but she knows he must be sad. she shows the same concern for him when they find out bran’s awake, but paralyzed. arya knows how important being a knight was to bran and that losing that will hurt him. jon is the one she misses most because he would offer her unconditional love and support. those are things she cannot get from anyone else. and when living on the run she needs it more than ever before
And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. Arya scowled, wondering what her sister was doing here, why she looked so happy. (AGOT)
here arya feels resentment again but this times its actually directed toward her sibling. she’s spent her entire life feeling like sansa got everything and this is probably the worst its ever been. she barely got out of the red keep alive and now arya is living on the streets like a gutter rat, tangled hair and dirty clothes infested with lice. she’s in pain and bleeding. she’s been robbed of her own bracelets and clean clothes. she’s starving and has to fight bullies and worse to survive. arya is living in fear with no way of escape. and then she gets a vision of sansa; standing there among all the royalty with everything arya’s lost. as usual. she’s clean, clothed, and worst of all happy. thats the salt in the wound for arya because she’s never been more miserable. but when everything goes to hell its sansa’s screams, her distress, that arya hears more then noise of the mob. throughout the series arya will have conflicted feelings towards sansa but she feels sadness and a great deal of consideration for her older sister’s feelings. despite what arya perceives as shortcomings she still appreciates how important those things are to sansa (ie: arya offering to make sansa a new dress and comforting her):
When she thought of seeing Robb’s face again Arya had to bite her lip. And I want to see Jon too, and Bran and Rickon, and Mother. Even Sansa … I’ll kiss her and beg her pardons like a proper lady, she’ll like that. (ACOK)
i feel like this is all over the place but the point is arya loves her siblings more than anything