i was talking to kristi abt chasetony (big surprise) and she said: "imagine tony and chase convincing their parents/peers that they have a secret business meeting with each other abt future company affairs but in reality they just go to someones recreation room and watch reruns of spongebob" and like??? my beautiful rebellious dorky rich kids
chase and tony being subversive and basically giving their elitist, classist upbringing two middle fingers
chase and tony giving each other the gift they wanted most as children: company/true friendship
chase and tony donating part of their money, putting up foundations and (with the help of their friends) joining outreaches and feeding programs yo #billionairephilanthropists
chase and tony doing each other's ties when they have to suit up for formal events
chase and tony tugging at each other's ties ;) ;) ;)
chase and tony's height difference is so?? cute?? tony probably has to stand on his tiptopes AND chase has to bend down when they kiss
chase likes it when tony calls him "blondie" or "richie rich" cause it’s different from the "young master"s and "mr. cunningham"s that he's used to
he’s not as... fond... when tony calls him “old man cunningham” tho HAHA
chase kind of purposely reads into things when tony sarcastically calls him sweetheart or honey... chase retaliates by calling him dear or love (except chase is an old man 100% sincere about it)
with hailey’s help, chase gets into the habit of playfully making fun of tony’s height
like tony’s annoyed at something, and chase is smiling, clearly trying not to laugh. tony turns to him like "?? whats so funny?" and chase is like "now, now, dear. you have such a... short temper"
he bursts out laughing and it sounds kind of snooty (because that’s just the way chase laughs), but its sO DORKY. tony doesnt know whether to be mad or endeared or what
hailey has this tendency to lift tony and just carry him around or twirl him in the air when theyre ecstatic. seeing how happy that made tony, chase once endeavored to carry tony... only for both of them to nearly fall over within 5 seconds #weak
AHAHAH it’s still the 4th here omg it’s so late tho but... i made time for this
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY @hsshwulil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i drew u chase and lily :3c
thank u for being one of my best friends and omg i’m embarrassed but i’m crying rn thinking about how LUCKY i am to have you in my life and how PROUD i am of u and everything we’ve been through together.... you are sincerely so beautiful inside and out and i know i never get sappy but i love u so much u mean so much to me and.... dies
Pairing: MCxChase
Warnings: None
Summary: Some people are harder to shop for than others, but then some gifts are more meaningful than they appear.
“What am I supposed to get someone who already has everything?”
Mia looks over at Beryl as the petite brunette groans, leaning her head against one of the shelves. The cheerleader shakes her head, going back to looking over the perfume. “Are you still trying to get something for Chase?”
“I’ve had gifts for everyone else done weeks ago,” Beryl mutters, straightening and crossing her arms, following Mia’s gaze as it travels over possible perfumes to pick up for her girlfriend, “Except him. What could I possibly get Cunningham that he probably doesn’t already own a version of in solid gold?”
The blonde picks up a delicate pink bottle, taking off the intricate lace cap and giving the strip of paper in her hand a spritz, smelling the perfume and smiling, putting the tester back on the shelf in favor of grabbing a box to purchase. “Is that why you wanted to come shopping with me today?”
“Well, you probably know him best out of all of us, since you guys grew up together,” Beryl admits sheepishly, following her friend to the line for the register. She nearly lets out another sigh because they’ve only been in this store for ten minutes and Mia is already buying her gift for Katherine; some people have all the luck when it comes to who they shop for on the holidays.
The cheerleader shrugs as they stand in the line that nearly wraps around the store, the registers far from sight. “I still don’t know him that well. We didn’t really talk much even if we went to the same events. But I still don’t see why you’re putting so much effort into this. Just get him a gift card for a laugh. Unless you two are –“
“Just friends,” she answers a hair too quickly, ignoring the skeptically raised brow of her best friend. Beryl sighs, “Vesna and Vanya are already doing that, along with everyone else who can’t find any other gift for him. I don’t want his first Christmas at New Haven to just be a bunch of people getting him joke gifts.”
“That’s fair,” Mia nods as the two step forward, a ripple running through the line. They still have a good ten minutes until they make it to the front of the line, and they spend the next minute or two in silence, looking over the crowded store and watching various shoppers bustling about, trying to get last minute presents for everyone on their list. The blonde looks down at the perfume in her hand before she shifts her gaze back to Beryl with a soft smile. “You know, he actually said more or less the same thing about you.”
The brunette blinks, snapped out of her people-watching trance. She moves forward along with the line as she chuckles, “I think he’s severely underestimating my family’s money, then.”
“Not about having everything,” Mia huffs, her annoyance melting quickly when her best friend laughs. “But about being impossible to shop for. He’s caught on that you don’t like expensive gifts and he’s totally out of his element.”
“Good to know I’m not the only one then,” Beryl grumbles, and the two laugh, the line moving forward once more. “Still don’t know what I’m getting him.”
Mia gives the short girl a wink. “We’ll figure something out. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to give you the greatest gift ever.”
“I’m giving you the greatest gift ever and you’re not allowed to say no.”
Beryl blinks, looking up at the pale blond wrapped up in a cashmere sweater standing in her doorway with a wide grin. She mutters, “Merry Christmas to you, too, Cunningham.”
He continues, sheepishly peeking over her head, “Sorry for the short notice, I just didn’t figure it out until a few hours ago. Am I interrupting something?”
Technically he’s not. Her family has already had dinner together, and didn’t plan on doing much else besides finishing up the holiday movie marathon that Jade is intent to finish. Beryl shakes her head and opens her mouth to tell him just that when she hears her older sister’s voice behind her ask, “Is that Richie Rich?”
And now her mother’s voice joins in as she coos, “Chase Jan, are you visiting?”
She refuses to look the young man in front of her in the eye as she feels her cheeks heat up, and her heart leaps into her throat at the sound of his laugh. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Ayer, I’m just here to pick your daughter up for her gift; if that’s all right with you, of course.”
“Aw, is my lil sis going on a big girl date?”
“Azizam leave your sister alone, she’s probably blushing already.”
To make matters worse, her father has caught on and shouts, “They can’t kiss if you two keep watching them!”
Beryl sneaks a glance up at Chase, and finds a little comfort in the fact that he’s now blushing as well, although still smiling and chuckling, and she shakes her head, telling him, “I might just run away right now.”
“Do it!” Jade calls as she continues to watch them from the hall with their mother, “Elope with the billionaire already.”
“Go, go on your not-date,” her mother concludes with a firm nod before taking Jade’s hand and walking back to the living room, leaving the two high school students to fidget awkwardly and blush, avoiding eye contact like the plague.
The petite brunette clears her throat and tucks a strand of her short hair behind her ear as she mutters, “Let me just grab a jacket and my things and we can go.”
“Okay,” Chase mumbles, feeling his mouth going dry and letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when she closes the door on him, the chilly night air helping soothe his burning face and ears. This really isn’t how he planned to start her present, but then things rarely go as planned with Beryl.
And he’s finding that he doesn’t mind.
She wraps herself tighter in her wool coat, wishing she had thrown on a sweater as well, not realizing how dramatically the temperature had dropped once the sun set. Chase continues going through the mass of keys in his hand, each one failing to fit into the lock of the front door of a mansion in the hills.
“So we aren’t breaking in?” Beryl teases, although her tone is far too affected by the shiver in her body to be as playful as she wants.
He looks over at her with a wink. “Not this time.” His smirk turns to a frown as he takes in her small form, bouncing up and down in place to keep warm. “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is that why your teeth are chattering?”
“Just scared by the sight of you, Cunningham.”
She freezes when he steps closer to her, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders, giving her a soft smile as he whispers, words floating gently across the small gap between them, “You can hide in this, then.”
For once, she’s speechless, looking up at him with wide eyes before tearing her gaze away and down, gripping his jacket tighter around her like a blanket. He smirks and goes back to trying to find the correct key, missing her subtly shifting her face and breathing in, smelling fresh linen and faint cologne.
“Ah ha,” he breathes when he finally hears a click, pushing the front door open and gesturing inside, allowing Beryl to step in first. She looks around as he turns on a light, taking in the marble and tapestries.
She turns to look back at him, and Chase swallows hard at the sight of her still flushed from the cold and wrapped in his jacket. “So what are we doing here, exactly?”
“Your gift,” he explains, now leading the way up a grand staircase, “Is on the second floor.”
“You know that –“
“You don’t do expensive gifts,” he finishes as they climb, their steps echoing throughout the mansion as he sighs, “Yeah, I got that. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to give you an entire house. This belongs to a family friend, and they’re on vacation right now.”
Beryl struggles to keep up with the blond as they reach the second floor and go down a maze of halls, twisting and turning until she can no longer tell which way is left or right. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”
He stops in front of an unassuming wooden door, looks back at her with a smirk, and opens it with grace, stepping in and pulling the cord of the nearest lamp to bathe his face in a warm glow as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.”
She steps in with wide eyes, lips parted as her breath is stolen from her. Bookshelves line the walls, plush armchairs and desks fill the spaces in between, Renaissance art gazes back at her with meticulous brush strokes, and the room overloads her nose with the smell of aging paper and wrinkled leather. Her boots click against the hardwood floor as she turns slowly in place, still hugging his coat to her shoulders as the room maintains its chill. He steps in after her, going to the fireplace in the corner as he explains with wide smile, “Everything in here is a first edition. Most are signed. It’s a lot of poetry and classic novels because the owners are a bunch of elitists when it comes to literature, but then so are you, so…”
“I may be an elitist,” she says loftily, unable to keep up her expression of feigned disappointment when she’s in possibly the most beautiful place on earth with the boy who cares enough to bring her here. She walks towards him, nearly laughing at the sight of the pale blond awkwardly struggling to discern what to do with the pile of logs, box of tinder, and set of matches on the ground next to the fireplace. She kneels down beside him and takes the log from his hands, shaking her head as she looks at him, smiling at his widened eyes and pink cheeks, the warmth from his body nearly igniting its own fire. “But at least I know how to make a fire.”
“Oh no,” he breathes, frozen in place and only seeming to lean closer, his gaze glazed over and traveling down the slope of her nose until it stops at her lips, making her breath hitch until he looks back up at her eyes, “Trapped with an arsonist.”
“Could be worse,” she whispers back, swallowing hard and finally tearing herself away to start work on the fireplace, “You could be trapped with a trust fund baby.”
The hypnotic fog fades into the air, and he sits back, watching her work and regaining his senses, grounding himself once more as he feels the hard wood floor beneath his hands, long legs splayed out before him. Back from his trance, he takes a deep breath and scoffs, “Soon to be disowned, mind you.”
She looks back at him with a smirk. “My apologies, then, Future Black Sheep.”
He frowns, pulling his knees up to his chest and his gaze to the floor, letting her shuffling on the floor fill the gap of silence. “As if I’m not already.”
The pause is thick and heavy, and they remain still, letting the gravity of his words sink into the stones of the mantle. Before it suffocates them both, Beryl turns, waiting until he looks at her before she tells him, slowly, earnestly, her eyes becoming so soft the floor is no longer hard and stable beneath him, “Chase, I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life.”
And then she turns and finishes her work on the fire, as if the weight of her words is made null by their truth, striking a match and setting the wood alight. Once she’s sure the fire will catch, she stands, reaching out and taking his hand in hers, forcing him to stand and follow as she ventured into the shelves, calling back to him, “Now come on, Cunningham. I’m milking your gift for all its worth, so get ready to dramatically read a lot of snooty poetry.”
He doesn’t even realize his grip on her hand has tightened until she squeezes back, tethering him to keep him afloat.
“I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,” he recites, holding tight to the book in his hands to calm the nerves that arise as it dawns on him that she has spent the past five novels with his coat wrapped around her and her head on his shoulder, the fireplace nothing compared to the heat building within him. He swallows and his volume drops even softer, as if a whisper will break the moment. “I am to see to it that I do not lose you.”
She lets out a yawn as he shuts the book, setting it down on the stack that’s accumulated by their feet of dusty novels. He looks down at her, the wavy bob she’s cut her hair into tickling his neck. “Calling it a night?” he asks, hiding his disappointment.
“Maybe when the fire dies,” she mumbles, looking over at the embers still glowing brightly in the dim light, the lamps around them now providing more light than the fireplace can.
He sits back slowly, feeling how her body presses into his, the armchair barely big enough for him and keeping her impossibly close. “You know, Mia said you got me a gift I’d like.”
“I’m going to need you to lower your expectations,” she laughs, lifting her head as her hand searches the pocket of her jeans, “Especially in relation to this gift.”
“I’m sure it’s great.”
“Let’s aim for okay.”
“I think you’re ragging on it too much.”
“See for yourself.” And she takes out her hand and shifts so that her legs are against his, and she’s looking up at him, gauging his reaction as she bites her lip that he forces himself to ignore in favor of looking down at what she’s holding out to him in the palm of her hand.
He takes it, his fingers brushing her palm as he asks, “What is it?” The knit colors of various shades of blue and yellow create a pattern, a loop at one end of the bracelet, and several strands protruding form a knot at the other.
“Baby’s first friendship bracelet,” she replies. “Do you want me to tie it?”
A nod later and he pushes up the sleeve of his sweater, holding out his pale wrist to her as she carefully ties the bracelet. He watches her fingers adeptly tighten the knot, and only now does he notice a matching bracelet around her own wrist. “Matching and everything.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a friendship bracelet without a friend.”
She grins up at him, her hands in her lap as he looks at her with a growing smile and realization that she is everything he never knew he needed, and he might just be the same for her.
“Merry Christmas, Cunningham.”
And he can’t help himself as he pulls her in, wrapping her in his arms as the fire gives one last crackle, the only reminder that he isn’t in a daydream.
“Merry Christmas, Beryl.”
It’s still rough but I’m already late so. I have nothing else to say except happy holidays, thank you for all the lovely support, and in regards to this cheesy af fic and ship:
