#everyone should have an item in their wardrobe that will get Looks and raised eyebrows

[bookshelfdreams]

yk when you see someone share a finished handmade item that they clearly spent a lot of time and money on and it's just. The absolute tackiest thing you have seen in your life. And then you ask yourself why someone would waste all those resources on such an eyesore.

(no, of course you can't relate to that because you're a much nicer person than me)

In any case.

BEHOLD!

A wool coat!

The top fabric is handwoven and handspun, the whole thing is sewn by hand, too.

Leftovers. Barely anything, all things considered, which is very satisfying.

This thing took me well over 3 years to make, on and off. And now I'm done.

Thank you for your attention.

#carry on XD #i hope y'all realize that when I say tacky it's with nothing but love in my heart #yes it's ugly. that's the whole point. #everyone should have an item in their wardrobe that will get Looks and raised eyebrows #it's good for you #anyway can't believe I'm done! this is a huge boost to my crafting hubris I CAN DO ANYTHING #wizard bathrobe adventures #handweaving #handspinning #hand sewing #look what i made #crafts #overall I'm happy with it even though there's. things that aren't ideal #the pockets are set a bit too low #and i should have made it a tiny bit longer not much but maybe like 5cm #anyway #overall it's a nice coat i think #Now That's What I Call Slow Fashion

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 4.3 Spectrum introspection

Fun fact - I wrote most of this over a year ago, I just didn’t have anywhere to put it until now!

Words: 1639

Content: Casual drinking, smoking

This rockstar life master list

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“Ugh, you’d think with so many channels there would be something on. It’s just news, wrestling, and reruns of Magnum PI.”

Steve looks up from the guitar magazine he’s studying, “It is the middle of the night, they probably assume everyone’s asleep. Anyway, I quite like Magnum.”

Alice flicks back to the channel with the moustachioed detective, then gets out of bed and roams aimlessly around the room, picking things up and putting them down again, opening and closing the trouser press, and sniffing the complimentary toiletries. 

“D’you think it’s worth unpacking, as we’re only here two nights?”

Lighting another cigarette, Steve shrugs, “I usually just hang my jackets up.”

She hangs a few random items in the wardrobe before resuming her restless pacing.

“Such a weird nomadic existence. Where even are we?”

“Philadelphia? No… Pittsburgh? Dunno. It must say on the menu or something���” He starts rifling through the detritus on the desk.

Alice stops by the window and peers out at the unprepossessing view of freeway, vast car parks and, in the distance, the floodlit wall of the arena.

“Ah, it is Philadelphia - The Spectrum, apparently.”

She spins around with sudden eagerness, “Let's go out and look at it!”

“Now?”

“Now!”

“But I haven’t got any trousers…”

“Come ON Clarkie!”

Pausing only to scoop a handful of little bottles from the minibar into the pocket of her robe, Alice pushes him out of the door. She raises her finger to her lips to signal quiet (it is 2am after all) and they tiptoe along the corridor. As they reach the lift, there is a ding and the doors start to open, so Alice darts into the stairwell, dragging Steve behind her. Reaching the lobby, she adopts a casual saunter, as if leaving your hotel in the middle of the night in your pyjamas is completely normal. The desk clerk watches them pass, one eyebrow raised, and Steve gives him a grin and a shrug as they escape via the revolving door. 

Obviously it’s still dark, but the security lighting enables them to make their way across to the building with just the minimum of tripping up kerbs and getting snagged in hedges. 

“Wow, it’s huge!”

“Yeah. We did even bigger ones on the last tour though.”

“Wow. Just. Wow.”

Alice flops down on the grass bank facing the entrance, and Steve sits down beside her. She hands him one of the bottles from the stash in her pocket, and he lights a cigarette. 

“I just… wow. Do you ever get used to it?”

“Sort of, if you don’t think about it too much. They all start to blur into one another after a while.”

Alice lapses into thoughtful silence, staring up at the concrete edifice.

“Why am I here?”

“Don’t ask me, you’re the one who wanted to come out here!”

“No, I mean why am I here? Me specifically. Why am I here with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could have anyone you wanted.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “a) No, I couldn’t, and b) I don’t want to anyway. I want you. Fuck knows why, because you’re clearly bonkers, but here we are.”

Alice mock-glares at him before returning to pulling up tufts of grass. “No, but seriously. This… your life… I didn’t really understand until I saw it. You just… live in a totally different world from me.”

“But you’re in my world now. You’ve been on a tour bus and everything!”

“I’m just a visitor, I’ll never be a showbiz person.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. You need someone who understands all this.” She waves an arm at the building towering above them. “You should be with another musician, or at least someone from the industry, or an actress or a model or something.”

“I tried that, remember. Just being in the same sort of weirdo job doesn’t mean you magically understand each other.”

“But you’re extraordinary.” Steve winces. “And I’m just ordinary, nothing special.”

“You are to me.”

Alice just shakes her head.

“Look, I can try and explain. But you won’t like it. It’s not… romantic. I’ll say it all wrong.”

She just shrugs one shoulder and stays staring down at the ground.

“Alright. In the clinic. I was really miserable. And… really angry. About being packed off to another useless hospital. I hated everything and everyone. Then there was you. You were so… still… and quiet. It made me feel better just to look at you. Calmer.”

Alice gives a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know now that you weren’t calm, you’re never calm, but you looked calm. And then I actually met you and you were funny, and really clever, and really weird…”

Alice laughs again.

“I even started to look forward to group therapy, because I would get to talk to you in the tea break. And then suddenly my time was up and I was leaving and I panicked that I wouldn’t see you again. You’d made everything bearable and I didn’t want to be back on my own again. Really fucking selfish. I didn’t even know if you liked me really.”

Alice interrupts, “Yes you did, you must have done. I was pretty obvious.”

“Well, a bit. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know if you liked me or if it was because I’m, you know, famous and stuff.”

Now it’s Alice’s turn to roll her eyes.

“One time when you phoned, I nearly didn’t answer. It’d been such a shit week. No sleep, I’d just got fucked up every night, got into a fight, the usual. And I thought, it’s not fair, bringing her into this, no one should have to...”

“Was that the time you fell asleep on the phone?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“This sounds… this is gonna sound made up… but I think I… sensed it. I felt that something was going on with you, and that’s why I kept phoning when you weren’t picking up.”

“Maybe you’re psychic!”

“Ha! So why did you? Answer?”

“Selfish again. I knew you’d make me feel better. Which you did. But then I felt bad again afterwards, guilty, like I was using you for… comfort.”

Alice is shaking her head again, but Steve carries on, “I didn’t understand what I was feeling. People have always said that I’m no good on my own, that I always need someone to… look after me. So was that it? Or, what do they call it? Rebound. On the rebound from Lorelei? Had I just latched onto the first girl who was nice to me because I was lonely? My head was so messed up… to be honest, I didn’t even… to start with I wasn’t even sure if I fancied you, until…”

“Oh.” Alice looks down at her lap and wraps her arms across her chest.

“No, wait, I… oh god, this is going to sound worse. I did, of course I did. I realised that… you always came into my mind when I was…” He makes a hand gesture and then looks embarrassed, “I’m sorry, that’s disgusting, it wasn’t on purpose I swear.”

He looks anxiously at Alice and, even though her head is still bent down, he can see the corners of her mouth have turned up. 

She looks up at him from behind her hair and asks, “Really? Do you still? I mean, do I still? When you…?” 

Steve, suddenly totally fascinated by picking the label off the bottle he is holding, nods.

Alice leans in and quickly kisses the corner of his mouth.

Steve clears his throat, still looking somewhat abashed. “Anyway,” he takes her hand, “what I’m trying to say is that you’re amazing and all I could ever want and even if I could have anyone I would still pick you and I don’t give a toss that you’re not a filmstar or whatever because I love you for you.” 

Speech over, he sucks in a big breath and peers at Alice’s face, trying to see from her expression if he has said the right thing. She looks like she’s going to cry, so that's… good? She reaches up her hand and pulls his head down so that their foreheads rest together.

“That’s a lot of words for a Steve.” She gives him a tender, though slightly teary and gin-flavoured, kiss. 

“I left out that I can’t believe my luck that you would even put up with me.”

“Oh stop it.”

“No, really. I know I’m… a lot to deal with. Most people would run a mile.”

“What are you talking about? You’re Steamin’ Steve Clark!”

Steve screws his face up.

“You’re so sweet, and so talented, and look at you, you’re gorgeous. Women literally line up to touch you!”

“But they just see… stage-Steve… they don’t know what I’m really like.”

“And what are you really like?” asks Alice with a smile.

He looks down, “I’m drinking minibar bourbon, in a car park, in my underpants, and someone else’s shirt…”

“My shirt.”

“Your shirt. Which I have spilled ketchup on…”

“That’d better come out.”

“So all in all, I would say not the world’s most eligible bachelor. Could do better.”

“But the car park is outside an arena where, in…” she grabs his wrist and squints at his watch, “just over eighteen hours… thousands of people, who have paid actual money, will watch you play your music and scream because they love it so much!”

“Yeah… I suppose… but that isn’t me. Not really.”

“It’s a part of you.”

“For a few hours maybe. Then you’re stuck with… this.” He waves his arms, spilling the last of the bourbon. 

Alice hands him another tiny bottle, studies him through narrowed eyes for a few seconds, then says, “It looks pretty good to me.”

“Ah, that’s what I really see in you - incredibly low standards!”

#steve clark #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #this rockstar life

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Her Matching Pair of Socks - George Weasley

Title: Her Matching Pair of Socks Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Adrian Pucey x Fem!Reader (ish, not really) Summary: George will always protect Y/N, even if it means confronting his true feelings . A/N: for the anon who wanted George being overprotective of the reader who was being teased!! The house of the reader is unspecified b/c it truly doesn’t matter but I pictured her as a Hufflepuff as I wrote, please do with that what you will haha. Feedback is always welcome!!! Tags: @feltondarling​ @pandaxnienke​ @raerae27​ @thefifthweasley 

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“George? George?” Y/N asks, waving her hand in front of his face. She giggles as his eyes seem to refocus on the world and he smiles at her. “Were you listening to anything I just said?”

George nods as he searches his brain, trying to see if any part of it retained any of the things Y/N had been talking about just a second ago while he’d been daydreaming. Y/N is magnetic. She has warm eyes, a kind smile and the biggest heart George has ever seen. She draws people in with one look, and once she’s captured them they have no chance of getting away; not that they’d want to. Unfortunately for George this means he rarely gets a moment alone with her, which is something he so desperately craves. Y/N has been the star of George’s thoughts since the first moment they met when she had quite literally saved his ass.

He and Fred had just pulled a prank on a few Slytherins and were running away from Snape. They had split up at some point, and as George ran away he could hear Snape gaining on him. George was sure he was about to be caught when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him into an empty classroom. Y/N had simply placed her finger over her mouth and winked at him, and as soon as Snape ran by their hiding spot she’d burst out in a fit of giggles. George had never heard anything so beautiful, and he sat there with her for hours, sometimes talking, but mostly just watching her knit. Y/N is sunshine encapsulated, and George could have sat there for days, basking in her rays of light and warmth.

Fred had found him eventually and dragged him back to the Gryffindor common room, and George worried that he’d never see her again. But the next morning at breakfast the hat she had been knitting was sitting in his usual spot waiting for him, and when his eyes met hers across the Hall she winked. From that moment on George has been caught in Y/N’s magnetic field, constantly swirling around her but never quite connecting the way he wants.

“Were you? Then what did I say?” she questions with a grin, one of her eyebrows raising.

George’s heart melts and he leans in closer to her, resting his chin on his hand. “I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t giving you the attention you deserve. Tell me again.”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully and puts her knitting needles down so she can ruffle George’s hair. “That’s okay, Georgie. It wasn’t that important anyway. What’s on your mind?”

“Just this Transfiguration assignment,” he lies. George isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t shared his true feelings with Y/N, and it’s not as if he hasn’t tried either. There have been quite a few times when his confession was resting on the tip of his tongue, but each time someone ended up being drawn to Y/N and stole her attention away. “McGonagall’s really giving it to us this term.”

“Maybe your assignments would be easier to handle if you didn’t wait until the last minute to do them?” Y/N suggests with a wink.

George’s heart flutters in his chest and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself down. “Ah yes, but if I didn’t leave my homework until the day before it was due then who would sit here with you and keep you company while everyone else is outside soaking up the last of the weekend?” George is sure that anyone Y/N asked for companionship would drop everything to sit with her, and he feels honored that she always chooses him.

“Now how can I argue with that?” she teases, picking her needles up once again.

Watching Y/N knit is one of George’s favorite pastimes. She’s tried to teach him a few times, but he always ends up just creating a big knot of yarn and using the needles as drumsticks. The way her fingers move mesmerizes George to no end and he loves watching whatever she’s making start to take form before his eyes. More often than not whatever she’s making somehow always ends up in George’s possession, not that he’s complaining. So far this school year he’s added two new jumpers, three hats, a scarf and half a dozen pairs of socks to his wardrobe. Every item radiates the same warmth Y/N does, and on days where he can’t have her to himself he puts something on and when he closes his eyes it’s as if she’s right there with him.

“Whatcha makin?” George asks, completely abandoning any attempt at finishing his homework. McGonagall will probably be shocked that he did any of it at all, and he doesn’t want to put her into an early grave by actually finishing it.

“A sweater,” she responds sweetly, not looking up from her work. “And before you ask, no it’s not for you,” she chuckles and gestures towards the skein of yarn she’s using. “Though you may recognize the yarn.”

The yarn Y/N is using is a soft lilac color with glitter interwoven throughout the soft strands and George recognizes it because he’s the one who bought it. He and Fred had ventured into Diagon Alley a few days before Christmas to check out the space they were thinking about opening their joke shop in, and the yarn had caught George’s attention from a window display. He spent quite a bit of money buying every skein the store had, but it was all worth it to him. Lilac is Y/N’s favorite color, and George would do just about anything to see her smile. He gave it to her on the first day back from break a few weeks ago, and he can practically still feel how tightly she had hugged him.

“Does look kinda familiar, I bet a world class bloke gave that to you,” he jokes. Y/N laughs, and it makes George’s stomach feel queasy.

“Best bloke I know anyway,” she compliments with a wink.

George can feel his cheeks heating up, and he’s thankful for the distraction when students start to pour into the Great Hall for dinner. He sighs heavily and starts to pack his homework up, disappointed that his time with Y/N is already coming to an end. “See you in class tomorrow?”

Y/N nods as she stands up, gathering her latest project into her arms. “Most definitely, Georgie.” She leans over and boops him on the nose, before turning away and heading towards her house table.

“Hello lover boy,” Fred greets suddenly.

George jumps, having been too focused on Y/N to notice his brother’s sudden presence. He glares at Fred as he plops into the seat next to George, and he smacks him on the chest. “Screw off.” Suddenly the tables in the Great Hall fill with everything needed for dinner, and George starts piling his plate with food. “You get everything we need?”

Fred nods as he does the same as his brother. “Oh yeah. We’ve got enough Chinese gun powder to level all of England. It’ll be delivered to the store next weekend. We can apperate to Diagon Alley from Hogsmeade to meet the delivery person.”

“Wicked,” George responds, a glint of mischief in his eye. Fred had used the secret passageway into Honeydukes basement to meet a guy who deals with explosives at the Hogshead Inn. They’re starting to put their plans together for their joke shop, and the first step has been to find decent suppliers so they can start producing some stock. “You take care of the other stuff I asked?”

Fred rolls his eyes and hands George a bag from Honeydukes. “Yes, you big softie. I got everything on the list, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks, prat.” George takes the bag from Fred and peers inside to make sure he actually did pick up everything George requested. Y/N’s sweet tooth is one of George’s favorite things about her and he’s always sure to have a stash of her favorites on hand at all times. “Where’s my change?”

Fred grins and pats his pocket. “Consider it my fee so you could spend the day staring at Y/N inside the warm castle, while I tread through a dark underground tunnel.”

“Whatever, drama queen,” George huffs with an eyeroll. He puts the bag down and starts to eat, turning his attention to Y/N. She’s sitting with her friends talking happily, and George can feel his heart rate increase as a smile spreads across his face. But just as quickly as it appears it vanishes, when Adrian Pucey comes up behind Y/N and taps her on the shoulder. He watches her nod as they talk, and when Adrian walks away he looks way too smug with himself.

“That didn’t look good,” Fred comments, nudging George with his elbow.

George shrugs, trying to seem like his stomach isn’t churning with dread. “You know how Y/N is. People like talking to her. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

-

“What did Adrian want yesterday?” George asks Y/N the following evening, trying to sound casual. They’re sitting in the library working on a Potions assignment, and it seems like there has been a never ending stream of people approaching them to speak with Y/N. He’s been dying to ask her about Adrian, but he wanted to wait until they were alone.

Y/N bites her lip as she looks up at George. “He asked me on a date, actually. To Hogsmeade next weekend.”

“Oh,” George says softly. His stomach has dropped into the floor and it feels like he was punched in the chest. “What did you say?”

“I told him that I would think about it.” Y/N gives George a look and there’s an unreadable expression on her face. “Do you think I should say yes?”

The tips of George’s ears feel like they’re on fire, and he has to put his quill down so he can wipe his sweaty palms off on his school trousers. What he wants to say is no, that she should go with him to Hogsmeade instead, and then lean forward and kiss her. But instead he shrugs and says, “If you want to, I guess.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N responds quietly, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “Thanks, I guess.”

George refocuses his attention on his homework for once, hoping that the sound of his heart pounding in his chest isn’t audible.

-

The next day by lunch time word has gotten to George that Y/N agreed to go on a date with Adrian. It makes his chest feel hollow, and he avoids her gaze at all costs. He avoids her in the hallways and when she asks to study with him in the library George brushes her off, claiming that he already has plans with Fred. He can tell that she’s upset, and it breaks George’s heart as he walks away.

He’s never been jealous over Y/N before. Even though he craves her presence and would give anything to spend every moment of every day with her, George has never minded sharing her with others. He’s spent countless hours with Y/N where they never even speak because her attention is captured by other people. Whether it’s people catching her in a casual conversation, or someone who takes a seat with them for a deeper interaction. George has always been content to just sit there and watch her face light up as she talks about whatever topic is at hand. Even if he’s not around Y/N, he loves to watch her from across the room as she talks to people. He finds everything she does absolutely adorable, and Fred often teases him for how hard he swoons.

But the thought of Y/N being alone with Adrian fills his chest with so much jealousy it feels like he’s drowning in it. He knows he has no right to be jealous, he’s never shared his romantic feelings with Y/N, and she isn’t his girlfriend or even a girl he’s casually dated. She’d even asked his opinion on whether she should accept. And instead of doing the smart thing and just telling her how he feels, he’d basically brushed her off.

As much as George wants to avoid Y/N, he’s still stuck in her orbit, so on Wednesday afternoon during break he parts ways with Fred and heads over to Y/N. “Got room for one more?” he asks, grinning down at her. Y/N moves over but doesn’t say anything. George frowns as he sits down. “What’s got you down, clown?”

Y/N cracks the faintest smile before she lets it fall from her features. “Just wasn’t sure you were talking to me is all. You haven’t been around lately.”

“I’m around now,” George points out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve just been a bit busy with Fred is all. You’re still my number one girl.” George’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest as he raises up one of his pantlegs. “I wouldn’t be rockin’ these bad boys if you weren’t.”

Y/N giggles as she looks at George’s sock, shoving him playfully. It’s neon pink and is truly the most offensive piece of clothing she’s ever seen. The yarn had been left over from a Christmas present she made for a young cousin a few years ago, and Y/N needed to use it up somehow. She originally planned on leaving them in her sock drawer for a few months before donating them to a charity, but the second George saw them he nabbed them from her, and he’s worn them quite a few times sense.

“They look wonderful, Georgie. Though I think it’s best you keep them hidden, they clash terribly with your Gryffindor tie and your fiery hair.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on a strand of George’s hair and he can feel his blood pressure spike.

“Well in that case.” George leans down and rolls up the cuff of both his pant legs, so a few inches of the socks are visible. “How do I look?”

“Ravishing,” Y/N says with a laugh.

It’s the most beautiful sound George has ever heard, and it sends a shiver down his spine. “Bet you wished you kept these for yourself now, don’t ya?”

Before Y/N can respond, one of her other friends swoops in to talk to her about her upcoming date with Adrian, and George sneaks away to avoid the heart break.

-

“Are you excited for your date?” Y/N’s friend Emily asks as they head towards the entrance to the castle.

Y/N nods happily, letting her eyes scan the crowd of people heading out of the castle. She gets her hopes up when she spots a shock of ginger hair bobbing above the crowd, but they evaporate when the person turns around and it turns out to be Fred. Y/N hasn’t seen George in three days, and his absence has been driving her crazy. She’s friendly with everyone but only has a few true friends, and she considers George to be one of them. She would even consider George to be her best friend, and it feels weird to not have spoken to him in a few days.

“What are you guys going to do?” Emily asks, pulling Y/N’s attention back to the present.

“Just have some butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, hang out, talk. Nothing too super crazy. I don’t really know Adrian that well, so I think it’ll give us a nice chance to get to know each other.”

Y/N had agreed to meet Adrian there, so when her and Emily reach Hogsmeade a few minutes later, she parts from her with a wave and heads right into the pub. She grabs a drink at the bar before settling in at a table in the back corner. When Adrian is 5 minutes late Y/N brushes it off, figuring that he got caught up leaving the castle or lost track of time. When he’s 30 minutes late, Y/N has already ordered another drink, figuring that he’ll be there any minute. And when he doesn’t show up after an hour Y/N decides to throw the towel in and head back to the castle.

Y/N feels emotionally drained as she makes her way back up towards Hogwarts, and she blinks back a few tears. Even though she’s not particularly interested in Adrian romantically, it had felt nice to be asked out and she truly was looking forward to getting to know him more. She always gives anyone who wants it a piece of her day, and Adrian not showing up make her feel as if she’s been taken advantage of. Her plan is to try and forget this ever happened until dinner that evening.

Y/N turns around when she feels something hit her in the back of the head, and when she turns around she can see Adrian, Marcus Flint and Theodore Knott laughing amongst themselves. There’s a piece of balled up parchment on the ground, and Y/N tries to ignore their stares as she leans down to pick it up.

How was the butterbeer? Lonely?

Y/N’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and she quickly turns back into her seat, shoving the piece of parchment into her pocket. She forces her tears away as she tries to get back into the conversation going on around her, unable to stop herself from searching George out in the crowd.

-

For the next week it seems everywhere she goes Adrian, Marcus and Theo are following a few paces behind. They never directly talk to her, but they talk about her loud enough for her to hear.

“Can’t believe she actually thought I wanted to go out with her!”

“How pathetic. I can’t believe it took her over an hour to realize you weren’t going to show up! What a moron.”

“She’s such a weirdo, no wonder she has no actual friends.”

It doesn’t help that George seems to be avoiding her as well. He doesn’t pass her stupid little notes in class anymore and when their eyes lock across the Great Hall he immediately looks away instead of giving her a cheeky grin. Every time she tries to ask him to come sit with her in the library he turns the other way in the hall before she catches him, and when she catches a peak of him and Fred outside pelting snowballs at Ron, he’s wearing his Gryffindor beanie, instead of one of her knit caps.

She misses George like crazy. He’s one of the only people who doesn’t want something from her. Most people only spend time with Y/N when they need to vent or ask her a question. George is the only person who is content with just sitting there with her in silence while they do their homework, or she knits. She could sit in silence with George for hours and just exist, so having him gone while also being tormented by Adrian and his gang has left Y/N with a deep ache in her chest and a pit of loneliness in her stomach.

-

Avoiding Y/N has to be the hardest thing George has ever done, and he once spent a week with his Great Aunt Tessie when he was 8. He craves her presence, but the thought of hearing about Adrian endlessly makes his stomach churn. Watching Y/N’s face fall every time he dodged her absolutely broke George’s heart, but he can’t stand to see someone else make her happy.

“You think she’s going to cry?”

George grimaces when he’s brought from his thoughts of Y/N and notices that Adrian and his goons are a few feet in front of him. Most of the school is in the Great Hall having dinner, but George didn’t feel like eating. Y/N had spent most of Transfiguration trying to get George’s attention, and ignoring her has left his stomach queasy.

“Reckon she might with how soft she is. Bet she’s cried herself to sleep every night this week.”

He has no idea who they’re talking about and he figures they’re tormenting some first year who is walking ahead of them. George is a little too far behind them to see who it is, but he decides to follow them anyway, in case he needs to intervene.

“What a stupid girl.”

Adrian’s words cut George deep. How could Y/N be interested in someone like him? George clenches his fist and starts to walk faster to catch up with them. He’s been wanting to smack Adrian and his smug face since the day he asked Y/N out, and this seems like a perfect excuse.

“Will you leave me alone!” Y/N shouts, and George’s blood runs cold. Her voice is shaky, and George knows that if she’s not already crying she will be soon.

Adrian, Marcus and Theodore stop in their tracks and cackle, and the sound makes George even angrier.

“Aw, poor pathetic Y/N has finally managed to stand up for herself. How cute,” Adrian taunts.

Y/N sniffles, and George can feel anger swell up in his chest. “Standing me up wasn’t enough for you, was it? Now you have to torment me about it too? Is that why you asked me out? So you could be mean to me?”

“Why else would someone ask you out? You’re not worth anyone’s time.”

George reaches them then, and he grips is wand tightly in one hand while the other grips the collar of Adrian’s shirt. He pulls him back sharply, causing Marcus and Theodore to take a few steps back as well. George takes one look at Y/N’s tear stained face and lets the anger in his chest consume him completely. “Leave her the fuck alone,” he spits, turning to face Adrian.

“Shove off, Weasley. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something,” Adrian seethes, squaring up against George.

“Not anymore you prick.” George can hear Y/N crying, and he moves slightly to shield her behind his back. “Now get lost before I make you.” Adrian takes a step forward and George raises his wand, pressing the tip of it to Adrian’s throat. “Unless you want to end up in the Hospital Wing for the next three weeks I suggest you move along.” George’s jaw is clenched, and his voice is deep and dark. George doesn’t move until they disappear down the hall. Only then does he drop his wand and turn around to hug Y/N.

Y/N presses her face into George’s chest and lets out a few more tears. “Thank you, George,” she mumbles.

“Of course, love. I will always be there for you, you know that.” George squeezes her tighter and resists his urge to kiss the top of her head. Instead he rests his chin there, and his eyes flutter closed as he soaks in her warmth. “How long have they been bothering you?” George asks quietly when he starts to feel like himself again.

“Since last Saturday, after Adrian stood me up.” Y/N pulls away from George’s chest so she can look up at him. “How come you’ve been ignoring me, Georgie? I’ve missed you so much.”

George’s heart breaks, and he brings a hand up to wipe away the last few tears from her cheeks. “I’ve missed you too, Y/N. I was being an idiot, like usual.” He takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he’s about to say. “I’ve liked you Y/N, for as long as I’ve known you. And after Adrian asked you out I got so unbelievably jealous that I couldn’t be around you, I couldn’t hear you talk about your date with him and how excited you were because just the thought of him being alone with you made me want to throw up.”

Y/N bites her lip as she considers what to say next. “You’d do anything for me George, right?”

“Of course, Y/N. Anything,” George confirms, cupping her cheek gently.

“Kiss me,” she breathes.

George hesitates for a second before he leans down and presses their mouths together softly. Their lips move together slowly, and George can feel his head spinning. His knees shake when they pull apart, and when George looks into Y/N’s eyes they shine brighter than the sun.

-

“Nice sweater,” George compliments as Y/N joins him in that Great Hall that Sunday. She giggles and does a little twirl for him and George feels like he’s soaring through the air.

“Thank you, my boyfriend gave me the yarn I used to make it.” Y/N leans over the table to press a kiss to George’s cheek before taking the seat across from him. She digs around in her bag for a moment before pulling out a pair of socks, knit from the same lilac material as her sweater.

“For me?” George asks, giving her a bright smile. He takes them from her excitedly and kicks off his shoes so he can pull them on.

Y/N laughs as George bring one of his feet up to show off the lilac sock, letting the glitter in the yarn shine. “Of course. What’s a sweater without a pair of matching socks?”

George leans over and kisses Y/N gently. “I’m always down to be your matching pair of socks.”

#George weasley #George Wesley imagine #gw #golden

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 18

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual harassment? (Andreas is a creep)

Word count 2.9k

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It wasn’t a mirage, your weren’t going crazy. You couldn’t believe what your Mum was telling you.

“She just thought she killed me, I could sense you were there and I knew her true motives. Before she could strike I confused her with my magic, tricking her mind and everyone arounds minds into seeing what I made them see. In reality, I was still standing there, hidden by a vale of magic, very much alive. I’m so sorry I put you through that, but she knew you were hiding there, your reaction needed to be real or she would never had believed I was truly gone.”

You didn’t know if you were crying sad tears or happy tears, all you knew is you were relived that it was all just a cruel trick of the mind and not reality. You were exhausted and couldn’t help but yawn as you sat around the fire. Looking around you watched the withered and tired faces of your friends too, Sky, who’s hair was disheveled from the amount of times he’d ran his fingers through it, a trait he’d no doubt picked up from Silva. The other specialists, rigid and too on alert to fully relax and rest. Your Winx girls, all weary eyed and weepy from your mothers story. Sam, still rattled from his almost deadly encounter with the Burned one and then Mr Harvey, who probably had the most to worry about. His children in danger, the reappearance of his thought dead childhood friend, his missing childhood friend Silva and the fact the school is under siege. Would you ever catch a break?

Budging up and being flush, side by side next to Farah Dowling didn’t seem like a weird thing to you anymore. If anything her not so deadly death put things more into perspective for you. You would be lost without her after just finding her again. The warmth that radiated from your mother was comforting, your eyes felt heavy, but still, your mind didn’t rest. No, not without your Saul.

One by one your friends turned in, calling it a night. Now that your mother was back and had helped Ben Harvey reinforce the barrier, it might be the first night some people actually got a decent sleep. Just like old times you were sharing a room with the girls. The ‘Winx Cabin’ as Musa liked to say.

It wasn’t long before you were snuggled down under your stolen duvet, wondering about what would happen next. Surely the next step was getting Saul back, but how? Your thoughts were interrupted by your mother, approaching your bedside she dipped down. You were on the bottom bunk, Stella on top.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that. Bringing all these people to safety, finding a way to stay strong even when you thought all hope was lost. I’m sorry for what you had to see, but i’m here now and trust me, we will get Saul back.” With that she whipped the tears that fell from your eyes, kissing your forehead she whispered something you couldn’t quite make out and then before you knew it you were sleeping, for the first time in a few days.

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Saul smiled at you. The same old smile that made your heart squeeze in joy and so so so much love. You had never loved anyone or anything as much as you loved the man in front of you. You knew looking at him you would take a bullet, arrow, blast of magic, whatever it was, you would die for him.

His fingers traced the line of your jaw, calloused but at the same time soft and tender, he knew how to touch you, you were his, to him you were the most precious thing in all the worlds.

“What are you thinking about?” His rough voice made your core tingle, your nipples hardened against the light fabric of your top.

“Us, how much I love you, how i’d do anything for you.” His eyebrow raised and he couldn’t help but smile. If he felt anything like how you felt in that moment, his heart would be beating 2x faster and his emotions would be overwhelming.

“Before I met you, I didn’t really believe in Soulmates. I knew they were a thing, just like i’m a Specialist and you’re a Fairy, but part of me thought it couldn’t be real, maybe because I didn’t think I deserved someone as amazing and loving as you, but now I know, I know that all this time I’d been wrong. I love you more than you could ever know Y/N.”

Lately you were used to waking up with tears in your eyes but your pillow was soaked. You’d been crying in your sleep, your eyes were bloodshot red and your nose blocked. God, another memory. Your heart was starting to physically hurt from being away from Saul. Maybe it was a soulmate thing? You had to get him back. It had to be today, you couldn’t wait any longer.

——————————————————————————————————

“You can’t just barge in there without a plan, it’s a suicide mission!” Your friends were having none of it. You’d decided that you were travelling to wherever the hell the Royal prison was and you were going to get your man back. Your mother had seen where they had taken him, being a mind fairy had its uses.

“Well you’re more than welcome to come with me, but I need to get him back, I can’t wait any longer! God knows what he’s going through and i’m not just going to sit here and wait for someone else to swoop in and save the day. It’s not going to happen!” You looked at all of your friends, they all had people now, boyfriends, people they were getting to know, they should know how it felt, even if it was just a fraction of what you felt for Saul.

“Terra what would you do if it was Helia, or Stella, what if it was Brandon! I could go on and on but you know what i’m getting at. If it were any of you in the situation, you’d be doing the same thing!” The shouting had attracted the rest of the camp, the Specialists running over to see what all the commotion was.

“You know, I agree with Y/N.” You were certain that Sky would have your back, even though he was fighting with his emotions as well, Saul was more a father to him than Andreas, he’d been alive this whole time and instead of seeking out Sky, spent his years fathering Beatrix instead.

“But first, I think we need to get a few things.”

With that, a plan was set in motion. As all good plans went by teenagers, it was on a need to know basis, which meant the adults… didn’t need to know. They would stop you if they knew what you were planning which is exactly what you didn’t need right now.

The plan was simple. Well, it seemed simple. You, Bloom, Stella, Sky and Sam would go through one of your portals back to Alfea for the supplies that you’d need to get Saul back. It was a risky plan, but everything you needed was in your Suite. You’d be in and out before anyone knew you were there.

——————————————————————————————————

The castle seemed quiet. The whole atmosphere seemed different since you’d last been at your school. It looked darker, less vibrant, sad almost. Everyone would be in bed by now which gave you the perfect opportunity to get in and get out again. Your portal had opened right in the centre of the living room. Your heart shattered when you noticed things out of place, up turned furniture, items strewn across the room. It wasn’t as bad as you’d expected though.

Sky and Bloom stood watch at the suite door while you got to work. First you’d need a bag, luckily your man had no shortage of military grade duffle bags laying around. Next, Sauls wardrobe, you grabbed some outfits for him, packing jackets, shoes, boots, the lot, not knowing where you might have to run to next. Then it came to weapons. The vault didn’t look like it had been tampered with. You looked sheepishly at Stella and Sam when they let out a low whistle. Impressed. Wait until they saw what was inside.

The code hadn’t changed for as long as you’d known the vault to an entire bedroom war room existed. The date Saul found you crying over one of the monsters your father had created and Rosalind had used, even before you found out you harnessed ancient magical abilities. With a click, the door swung open and you listened for the sure gasp of your friends behind you.

Guns lined one wall, Knives another. You went over and clicked a button on a hidden panel and even more sections of room appeared. Multiple stacks of uniform, cash, smaller objects like tiny daggers, grenades and smoke bombs and even some tactical equipment like ear pieces and tiny cameras. Your man had everything, was he a Specialist, a spy, an evil hit man? Who knew when you looked at his haul. It was pretty impressive. Each with a bag, you started filling up with everything you could take, swords, guns, even the little things. Anything that would help you in your quest to getting back the man you loved with every fibre of your being.

After you’d cleared out the vault and heaved the bags into the centre of the room, you packed a bag for yourself, you didn’t want to have to steal again just to get clean clothes, plus, it would be nice to have some home comforts. You saw Stella eyeing up your stuff, it hit you. You suddenly felt guilty.

“If were quick me and Sam could go and grab some clothes and personal things from the Winx suit, but not a lot okay. We’ve already been here too long.” She nodded and smiled gratefully. Bringing Sam was a brilliant idea, his ability to walk through walls would no doubt prove to be useful over and over.

You met him in the dorm, your swirling black portal closing behind you with a swoosh. Nothing was out of place, un-like yours and Sauls suite. It was as if time had just stood still. You both wasted no time, as quickly as you could the packing began, clothes for each of the girls, Stella’s makeup bag, Musa’s tapes, Terras travel bag of potions and powders as she liked to call it, Blooms sketchbooks and Aisha’s books.

Looking at the time you cursed in annoyance. You wanted to get things for the Specialists, Mr Harvey and your mum too but there was just no time, you had to get back to the others. With the bags, you and Sam in the middle of the room, the portal opened around you and you were sucked into the darkness.

——————————————————————————————————

“Well, look what we have here. I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come back so soon. Theres me thinking Saul used to go for the smart girls, obviously I was mistaken.” You froze as you stepped out of the darkness. Andreas. His sword was flush against Skys neck, Bloom and Stella pinned to the wall by some of his royal guard goons.

“Drop the sword, we both know you’d never hurt your own son.” His mouth cocked to one side in an evil smirk. Your hands flexed at your sides. You were ready for a fight, lord knows you needed to take your anger out on someone.

“That’s where you’re mistaken.” To emphasise, he pressed the sword harder against his sons neck, small beads of blood pooling around the broken skin.

By now, your eyes were as black as the night sky. You could tell the sight had unnerved the guards, their hold on your friends loosening.

In a flash Stella warned you to close your eyes and her light erupted around the room stunning those who didn’t react fast enough. Luckily, you and your friends knew what she was doing and the only ones effected were the people it was intended for. It didn’t stop Andreas from charging forward though, his heavy muscled body colliding with yours, sending you flying to the floor with a hard thud. Your ears were ringing, the knock to your head making you feel like a cartoon with tweety birds flying around. With blurry eyes you could see Bloom and Sky fighting off the Royal Guards, while Sam and Stella were running to you. Andreas got to you first, landing his fist on the side of your mouth, his body coming over yours, pinning you down, straddling your waist.

“I see what Silva saw in you, pretty little thing.” His breath fanned across your face, his tongue sneaked out between his chapped lips and darted across your cheek, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Too bad, when i’m done with you, you won’t be so pretty anymore.” His fist came back again, but this time you were ready. Sauls fight training kicked in, you bucked him off you and rolled away from under him, it surprised him which you used to your advantage. Your hands thrown forward, black tendrils of your smoky magic sprung free, encasing Andreas. They wrapped around him like vines, tightening, his arms unable to lift from his sides. With one flick of your wrist, you sent his body hurtling into the wall. Then there was silence.

Bloom and Sky had taken down the Guards, Stella and Sam had gathered all of the supplies and you, you looked around at what was left of the room you once shared with your Saul. Meeting in the middle, you took Skys hand as he took one last look at his unconscious traitor of a father, before you all sank away into the abyss and back to the safety of your camp.

——————————————————————————————————

The camp was just as quiet as the school had been. There was no way they could have found you, right? You’d half expected your mum and Harvey to be screaming at you by now but the screaming didn’t come. Instead, raised voices could be heard beyond the barrier that protected you all from whatever was out there. This couldn’t be good. One knee to the ground, you were unzipping a bag with weapons, passing them out to those around you. Swords for you and Sky, a gun for Sam, Bloom opted for her magic and Stella, Stella had her badass ring, which before now you didn’t know doubled as a frikin magical sun staff? She shrugged when you looked at her.

“We will be talking about this later you secret sun ninja.” You jumped when the voices got louder. Following the direction of the heated talking, it didn’t take you long before you saw…actually, you weren’t sure what you were seeing.

A man and a woman dressed in some weird sort of black armour, face to face with your mother, the other Winx girls, the specialists and Mr Harvey. Now you as well. Your appearance attracted the gaze of the scary looking strangers. You raised your sword.

“Who are you and what the hell do you want, it’s been a long fucking night and I can’t deal with anymore shit right now.” You groaned, holding your head, a pain blooming behind your eyes, that fight with Andreas must have done more damage than you thought.

“Princess, we come in peace. We are mere messengers sent by your father, King Tenebris. You are all in danger, in 30 minutes royal troops will descend on your camp, we’ve been monitoring the situation. Rosalind deceived your father and now he wants to make amends with you. You are in danger if you stay here. Please come with us.” Information overload or what. You scoffed. These people and your father were just as bad as bloody Rosalind, why should you believe them?

“Why should we trust you, when all my father did was send the burned ones to attack my school!” The female guard took a confident step forward and held out her hand.

“An hour ago, your father ordered a specialist trained team of dark guards to extract Saul Silva from the Royal prison of Solaria. He is waiting for you at your fathers castle where you are all invited for safe housing.” Your heart felt like it skipped a few beats, how did you know it wasn’t a trick?

“He said you’d think it was a trick, he asked me to give you this.” In her hand, the dog tags Saul wore everyday. He never took them off, you touched the diamond ones around your neck. They were telling the truth. You looked to Musa and your mum, the mind fairies nodded, conforming the truth.

A booming sound ricocheted through out the forest. Time was up, it was time to go get your man.

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Heyyyyy! So, a lot went on in this chapter but I hoped you enjoyed! We get our Saul back next chapter yipeeeee <3 Bit of a longer one for you as a sorry for my lack of posting recently!

Let me know what you think in the comments, like, share and FOLLOW ME <3

CHAPTER 19 ------ CLICK HERE

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#winx #fate the winx saga #winx club #winx fandom #winx the fate saga #musa #riven #sky #stella #aisha #bloom #terra #sam #harvey #mr harvey #farah dowling #saul silva #saulsilva #silva #saul #saul silva x reader #student x teacher #fanfic #winx fanfic #series #magic #magix #alfea #the specialists #fairies

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

Drabble ~ Frivolous Spending

Pairing: Sam x reader

Fic summary: Reader, having suffered a loss of all their worldly possessions in a house fire, needs to make another purchase and Dean has opinions.

Word Count: 970

Warnings: none

You nervously came into the war room where the team was working on researching their newest monster of the week and gave a little wave as everyone looked up in acknowledgement. Dean was reading through an old dusty book from a pile of dusty books on the table next to him, Castiel was marking spots on a large map hanging from a whiteboard while Sam read information to him off the police database, and Charlie was next to Dean, furiously typing away on her laptop. You held Sam’s cell phone in your hand and walked over to him as nonchalantly as possible.

“Hey you,” Sam tilted his head back and smooched exaggeratedly, letting you plant a quick kiss.

“Hi,” You replied in a quiet voice, holding the phone out to him. “Um, so, this is that thing we were talking about that I needed you to buy for me.” Dean’s eavesdropping ears perked up and he looked over at you both.

“Buy?” He asked gruffly. “You need to buy something? More?”

“Nevermind Nosey.” Sam waved him off in an overly casual manner. His brother squared his shoulders and set the book down, clearing his throat. You raised your eyebrows and began to get more nervous; you’d been hoping to make this purchase as lowkey as possible, and it wasn’t going well.

“Sammy, we just talked about this,” Dean began with a sigh.

“You did?” You asked, suddenly curious. You stood up tall and put a hand on your hip, “talked about what exactly?” Everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen now.

Sam tried to blow it off, “Nothing! Dean’s just being an idiot--”

“No, dude, I’m not. Spending money the way we do, on necessities for our job is one thing, but it would be wrong for us to spend money…” he paused and gave you a dramatic once over before mock-whispering, “frivolously.”

You barely suppressed a chuckle and darted your eyes toward Sam, smirking. He caught your expression and gave an imperceptible shrug, raising an eyebrow in question. You shook your head with a gentle smile and motioned ‘no’ with your hands.

Dean, oblivious to the meaning behind your interaction, continued, “I mean really, we already had to buy you an entirely new wardrobe, we’re getting you your own cell phone, and now whatever this is? I know the fire wasn’t your fault but we still need to be smart. We need to keep any extra, unnecessary costs to minimum, so that we have money for what we need when we need it.” As he ranted pompously, you began nodding your head in mock sincerity and pulling your face into a lot of “oh yes!” “I agree” “You’re so smart, Dean” expressions.

He reached out his hand for the phone, wanting to review the requested item, “Now, what is it you want Sam to buy you this time? I notice you didn’t ask us both...”

Sam looked up at you again, silently asking for permission. With a sweet, accommodating smile on your face, you held your hand out, palm up and nodded enthusiastically. If he was going to be this big of an ass about it, then fine. Two can play that game.

“C’mon, don’t be shy! What is it, huh? A purse? Some fabulous jimmy choo’s? What?” Dean chuckled at his own cleverness, as Sam handed him the phone. He looked at the screen and his eyebrows scrunched together. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Why the hell do we need to spend $30 on something called a ‘luna cup’?? I mean what even is a menstr--ua--l… cup…” As he trailed off, it looked like all the blood had drained his face.

Sam had a very smug “I tried to tell you” expression while you and Charlie both were sporting shit eating grins. Castiel, looking intrigued, walked to stand behind Dean and looked over his shoulder at the phone.

“Ha!” Charlie, who, like Cas, had no idea what the item was in advance, let out a loud exclamation of joy. “This is amazing.” She shifted her computer aside, “Now that you mention it, I need to get one of those, too.” Snatching the phone from Dean’s limp hand, he gulped in embarrassment. “But, not this brand,” Charlie looked up at you and shook her head, “no. This is gonna be too long for my vagina. An uncomfortable fit.”

With a smirk, you agreed, “Ah, yea. I know what you mean. My uterus must just sit farther back in my vaginal canal than yours. So, even though that one should be the perfect size and shape for my vagina, you maybe need something with a shorter cup length?”

The two of you nodded very seriously back and forth at each other, as though you were scholars discussing germ theory. Midway through your discussion, Sam, who had known what the item was before Dean’s hissy fit, began to regret his decision to allow this to happen; he should have realized you were going to commit.

“You know, I’ve heard--” By the look on his face, Sam could tell that Cas was dying to jump into this conversation. Whether he had questions or his own opinions on the different vaginal canal sizes, they would never know, because Dean cut him off.

“OK! OK! I’m sorry, OK! Look, buy whatever you need,” Dean hastily picked up his book and got up from the table. “Just please don’t use the term ‘vaginal canal’ around me ever again,” he begged as he walked forlornly out of the room. Castiel gave Sam an awkwardly disappointed expression, now that the conversation was over.

“You don’t think that was a bit much?” Sam asked, bemused.

“Are you kidding?” Charlie began before you had a chance. “A toddler throws a tantrum, you teach him a lesson.”

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #drabble #humor #spn fanfiction #dean being dean

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 26

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mention of weapons and gunshots 

A/N:  will i ever write a chapter without a musical reference? no as i literally cannot help myself.

NEXT CHAPTER

The night was like a warm blanket tonight yet the world somehow seemed wider, brighter as she laid against his chest, hearing his heart softly beating against his ribcage. The sound itself sent her in a spiral of her own mind, the sound itself proved he was alive, he was real and he was there. Laying down next to him was just the right thing to do despite it being at the same time the wrongest of all wrong things. Sure, this was the man Gwen had been promised to ever since she was born but at the same time whenever she was next to him he seemed like a completely different person than the mythical mob boss her mind had fabricated over the years. When she was next to him he was her lover and at the end of the day that was what overwhelmed her overall perception. 

     - What are you thinking about? - Sebastian slightly raised his head with precaution as to not disturb her. - You’re very quiet.  

     - Just basking in the feeling. - she looked up to him without really moving the rest of her body, hand remaining in its imaginary circle drawing. - We should probably return to doing what we were doing.

     - I think there’s more boxes in the garage. - he sat up, arms wrapped around her figure so she didn’t fall off his lap and landed on the ground. If it was up to him, he would remain in that position for another hour with his nose buried in her hair smelling the scent of her fragrance mixed with her shampoo. - Maybe there’s something there. 

    - You don’t need to do this for me. - she pushed her hair to the side, cocking her head slightly as her hand searched the ground for her jumper which was colder than she would like due to the winter weather just outside. - I know you probably have your own business to take care of. 

    - I’m a good multitasker, my angel. - he kissed her naked shoulder before she slide her jumper on, shivering at the contact of her warm skin with the cold fabric. Y/N gave him a playful smile followed by a roll of the eyes before getting up, picking up his garments in the process and throwing them at him. 

Smiling like a fool who just won the lottery, and in a certain way he sort of had, he got dressed up in the wrinkled clothes and wrapped his arm around her natural waist before leading her out of his office and into the life to the garage. If there was a room in the house that was always, if not ever since its construction, in chaos, it was the garage. Whatever he didn’t want in his home anymore or anything for which he didn’t have space, he would send it down to the garage which meant the room was filled to the brim with boxes and boxes along with some record books and more contracts, most likely belonging to his father as Sebastian prided himself in keeping an electronic copy of all his contracts, just in case. Y/N couldn’t help herself but sneeze at the amount of dust that had gathered over the years as she grabbed one of the boxes. Surely he had enough money to hire someone to clean it, however it seemed to always escape his mind.

Sebastian took the other side of the box created walls while Y/N started to go through the first box which weirdly was filled with clothes, children’s clothes. She cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but continued to go through the box’s contents, carefully putting the clothing off the box by her side until she reached a silver picture frame of a woman holding a baby whose gaze was somewhere else. She smiled at the warm nature of the photo which looked to have been snapped unknowingly. Her fingers traced the contours of the photo as she wondered who the two individuals were until she felt Sebastian’s hand on her shoulder. 

   - That’s my mother. - he pointed at the woman in the photo. - And that’s me. 

   - Why is this photo here? - she asked, turning her head to stare at him. Y/N knew Sebastian clearly had a soft spot for his mother as he spoke of her like any kid spoke of their parents, something that didn’t seem to occur whenever he mentioned his father whose relationship seemed to be more apprentice-master than father and son. 

   - In all honesty, I didn’t even remember it was down here. My father got rid of most stuff related to my mother after the divorce. - his hand left her shoulder as he took a seat next to her. 

   - You’ve never spoke to me about your mother. At least not a lot. - it was in her nature to be curious, she found the most she knew about people, the best she could connect and help them out. Sebastian normally would’ve taken curiosity at harsh value but whenever she asked him something, he couldn’t help but feel wrapped around her kind nature. 

   - Well, they got divorced when I was 6 or 7. Bad divorce, my mother didn’t have enough money to get a legal team so my father got everything, including me. One visit a year ... she ended up dying when I was 14.

   - I’m so sorry, Seb. - she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his temple, trying to console him the best way she could. Sebastian however had closed that wound a long time ago and instead looked inside the box she was looking at, recognising most of the items as childhood belongings. With a curious look in her eyes, his hand rummaged through the box’s belongings taking an old teared by time stuffed bunny which gained Y/N’s attention. - What’s that?

   - Oreo. - he said nonchalantly. 

   - Oreo? - she giggled. - It has a name? You don’t mean to tell me that the mob boss had a stuffed animal named Oreo. 

   - Mob bosses aren’t born mob bosses. - he put the stuffed animal back in the box. - I thought one of my kids might want it someday but if they’re anything like Gwen, I think they won’t want something this old.

   - Right. - she swallowed her worries which kept telling her that she would never be the one to bore him a child. Mr. Williams words rang inside her mind like terrifying echoes. Mistress. Mistresses don’t get happy endings. - Well, you have good taste, Oreo is a great name. 

   - Good taste ... - his eyes seemed to rewind to a past time, leaving Y/N to look at him weirdly as he jumped on his feet to walk to a little shelf filled with books which turned to be photo albums. Looking through several pages in second-like intervals, he finally stopped in the middle of the album, a smile on his face as his memories proved right. Quickly moving towards the young handmaiden, placing the book in her lap. Her eyes glued to the photo which was of a round table filled with mostly men and little to no women, however, a specific woman stood out in the middle of everyone, a kind smile contrasting with the tight lipped smirks of the rest of the crowd. Around her neck a golden necklace just like the one which was wrapped around the young handmaiden’s neck. - I knew I remembered the name Robin. 

   - What happened to her? - Sebastian sadly couldn’t answer this question as he was rather young and most of the times forbidden to even be close to any of his father’s parties or dinners. Y/N flipped through the pages noticing she showed up in a few more pictures before completely disappearing. - She seems to stop appearing. 

   - Whoever she was, she was no mere worker. My father had a rather elitist taste when it came to who got to attend his dinners and parties. - the theory that her parents didn’t want her screamed at her again. At that point, it just sounded like the most plausible theory. Noticing this shift his attitude, Sebastian closed the photo album, putting it away from her. - You don’t need to keep going, angel. You turned out just fine without them. 

   - I know. - she forced a smile, trying to see if she could fool Sebastian but he was much too familiar with her characteristics to be easily fooled. Sighing, Sebastian took her hands in his, slowly yet surely getting her on her feet.

   - I think that’s enough detective work for today. - he leaned down, pecking her lips two times, a smile on his face. Y/N nodded, thinking it would be best if she didn’t dig in the past and together they returned to the lift which took them back to the penthouse. The lift doors slowly open and Y/N noticed her suitcase standing slightly to the side of the lift. She didn’t think much of it knowing Sebastian to be a man who had man for everything so he had probably gotten someone to grab it earlier than mentioned. Even with that, she felt a somber heavy vibe in the air as she located her suitcase, something that seemed to push her down, like a weight. - Your suitcase is here.

   - Oh ... I guess I should just unpack. - his words took her from the glued, almost hypnotic glare at her own bag. Sebastian shrugged, letting her do her own thing, only offering his help to help her move the suitcase into her bedroom to which she declined. 

Her intuition was telling her to be careful and as such, she closed the door behind her immediately opening her suitcase. There was nothing odd about it, mostly filled with the clothes she had brought to the Forrest along with other objects and personal belongings. Still there was a  heavy weight which seemed to grow heavier and heavier as she folded her clothes and put them back in her wardrobe which hit a climax as she noticed a piece of white like fabric right at the bottom of her suitcase. She took a step back however her hand leaned forward, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric as if the fabric itself were a bomb. 

The fabric itself didn’t feel worn out and as she raised it into the air so she could inspect it better. It was an old fabric which at his prime was white but had started to grow slightly yellowish with the passage of time, the material of cashmere itself however still had the same comfort of a new one, almost as if it had never been worn. However, the most notable feature of the blanket was the cursive embroidery spelling Ella next to the silhouette of a robin. Without much thought to it, she brought the blanket up to her nose, inhaling what was reminiscent of fresh rosemaries on a hot summer day spent in a garden. Then out of the sudden, just as her nose sensed the scent of the blanket, a loud gunshot sound seemed to reverberate from the back of her skull to the front. She let out a scared scream, dropping the blanket on the floor as if the fabric was burning her hands. Her eyes scanned the room, looking paranoiacally for where the gunshot could’ve come for but there was nothing in her bedroom, there was no one in her bedroom. That was until Sebastian broke into her bedroom, black revolver set in the air to which she immediately put her hands up, noticing there were few tears rolling down her cheeks and meeting at her chin. Sebastian lowered his gun, after inspecting her bedroom for any threats.

   - I heard a gunshot. - her breathe came rather harshly through her mouth, almost as if she had been holding in her breathe. 

   - There was no gunshot, angel. - his hands cupped her face, kissing the top of her forehead as she leaned into his embrace. - Your mind’s playing tricks on you. 

   - No, I heard it. - she heard it, she could still hear it ringing in her ears like a never ending sound. Sebastian’s lips tightened as he embraced her tighter, letting go of his revolver on top of her bed. - I heard it. 

  - I know, angel. I know. - he spoke very lowly, whisper-like even. - You’re tired, you need some rest.

  - I swear I heard it. - she looked around, her eyes convincing her that there was no real danger but her mind telling her to keep her guard up, specially when the blanket on the ground caught her attention once more like a cursed amulet. Like a child, she hid from it on Sebastian’s shoulders, the contrasting cedar wood scent almost erasing the soft and fresh rosemary from her mind. She had heard it, she knew she had heard it. - Maybe you’re right, I just might be tired. 

  - C’mon, I can make you a cheese toastie. - he rubbed her arm soothingly, a inviting smile on his reddish pink lips which just always looked so inviting. - It’s gonna be alright, angel. 

  -  Well, I’m surprised you can use a sandwich maker. - Y/N pushed the worries to the back of the brain, that part you only see when you’re trying to fall asleep or too lost in your own mind to visit those darkest parts which you hope disappear with time. 

   - I’m not completely incompetent in the kitchen. - she looked up at him, a seemingly calm smile masking all her worries. - I never set it on fire.

   - What an amazing astonishment. - she giggled, a hand coming to stand in front of her lips. 

   - C’mon angel, let’s get some food in you.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @nikkipea​ @madisonpillstrom​ @cevans98​ @thelostallycat​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @anxiousdreamersworld​ @captainchrisstan​ @lookiamtrying​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen@nsfwsebbie @strangerliaa @emzd34

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan AU #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #mafia boss!sebastian stan

[heyitsani]

Mail Order Bride AU Outtake

You know what?  I’ve had an insane week and it’s FINALLY calmed down after tonight.  So to celebrate, how about an outtake from one of my JD Week stories?  This was initially going to be the opening scene of the mail order bride!Jason fic, but I scrapped it for jumping further into the fic instead.  So enjoy this scene with Roy and Jason and a little background on how Jay ends up heading to California to marry Dick. 

Completely unedited because it’s an outtake for crying out loud.  Why should I edit it?  Hahaha.  But enjoy it none the less.

“How are you feeling?” Roy asked as he sat on the edge of the small cot he had pulled out for Jason to rest on after helping drag him into the house in the middle of the night.  “You’re lucky I found you when I did, the frost set in last night.”  Jason just blinked up at the man, squinting as the candlelight irritated his headache further.

“Wha-”  He tried to ask, cutting himself off when his voice broke and he started coughing.  He felt more than heard or saw Roy sigh before the older man’s hand started rubbing his back to help him through the fit.

“I found you on my way home. Was it your old man again?”  He asked once Jason was able to stop coughing. The question caused him to cringe. Everyone in town knew his father was a cruel man and even worse when he was drunk.  None of them had ever tried to help Jason outside of Roy, but Jason had never blamed them.  You just didn’t get involved in family drama.  It wasn’t proper.  And the mindset of the Man of the house being the final authority was not one he agreed with, but not many felt the same way that he did.

And it also wasn’t proper for a nineteen-year-old son who was unmarried to leave the house and live on his own.  So, he was stuck until he found some poor fool to accept his hand or his father killed him.

“Jay?”  

With a heavy sigh, Jason sat up and did his best to ignore the throbbing in his head.  “Do I really need to answer that?”  Roy heaved a sigh of his own looked down at him with a contemplative expression.  “What?”

“I have been thinking of a solution for you for the past couple of months.  But I am not sure you will be willing,” Roy admitted, standing and walking into the kitchen a few feet away from where Jason’s cot had been placed.  “You know my friend Dick moved out West with his adoptive father a few years ago.” Jason nodded, remembering Roy telling him about it when they had met a few months after the man had left.  “He has been writing me recently about how lonely he is and how he is considering placing an ad out here for a mail order spouse.”

Jason immediately knew where this was going and scowled.  “You are having a go at me.”

“I am certainly not.”

“You have spent years describing this man as a god among men.  That his beauty is unnatural, and you aren’t completely certain that he isn’t some sort of supernatural creature.”  Roy just stared at him, unamused.  “The street rat child of a drunk is not the kind of spouse a man like Dick Grayson deserves.”

And though Jason trusted Roy with his life, he still flinched when Roy stalked back over to the cot he still sat on and watched him warily.  But if Roy saw the reaction, he didn’t acknowledge it or change course. “You listen to me Jason Peter Todd,” he said, grabbing Jason’s chin firmly but not to hurt.  “If I ever hear you speak about yourself in that manner again, I will wash your mouth out with soap the same as I would with Lian.  Do you understand?”  Giving a slight nod, all that Roy’s grip really allowed of him, the man released his chin and sighed as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Look, you can’t stay in New York. There is nothing but death in this city for you.”

“But there isn’t in San Francisco?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Roy gave him a wry smile.  “At the very least, there’s freedom.”  But Jason just narrowed his eyes at the other man and thought about what freedom would actually mean for him.  “You are already aware that I think Dick is a good man and a beautiful one at that, but I also know you are a good man as well.  And I think that you could be just what he needs, and he certainly has the means to get you the freedom you deserve.”

“If he’s as good as you say, why has he not found himself a spouse yet?”

Roy shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you,” he said as he stood up again and went back to the kitchen.  Instead of paying attention to whatever the man was doing, he thought about the possibility that Roy had presented him with.  He trusted Roy’s judgement, but there was always his father’s voice whispering in his head that he would never been good enough for anyone. That no one would want someone like him in their lives.  That no one could love a street rat like him.

But Roy had so much faith that he could be so much more.  It was now just a matter of whether or not he could have that same faith in himself.  Could he pick up his whole life and just go somewhere no one knew of him?  Could he accept the chance to rebuild himself and take advantage of a new beginning?

“I would need some time to gather the funds to head West.”

He looked over to find Roy looking his way with raised eyebrows.

“I could probably scrap up enough in two weeks.”

But now Roy was laughing, and Jason was confused.  Had it actually been a joke, like he had first assumed?  “I’m sorry,” Roy chuckled, shaking his head.  “Just…Dick has already wired me money to give to whoever he ends up inviting to stay with him.  And trust me, it is more than enough to get you there and in a new wardrobe.” Which meant the man had money.

“What is his employment again?”

“Law,” Roy sighed. “He is the Sherriff of San Francisco. Could charm the pants off a bandit if he wanted to.”

Well, fuck.

“I’ll send him a telegraph once the post opens this morning.  While I do that, you gather what belongings you want to bring with you while Willis is gone to work for the day.”  Nodding, Jason mentally went over the few items that actually meant anything to him.  “And do not leave that bastard a letter saying you’ve gone.  Just let him wonder about it for the rest of his sorry life. He doesn’t deserve to know.”

#jaydick #roy harper #jason todd #they're besties okay? #jaydick week outtakes #anikah writes #mail order bride au

[jawabear]

Beautiful (Whiskey x plus size!Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: This is was written for a plus size reader. But before you read I just want to make something clear, YOU ARE ALL PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE. Don’t let anyone put you down because you’re bigger than others. You’re aesome and perfect! Okay?! So anyway, I hope you enjoy. Let everyone’s favourite cowboy show you how perfect you all are. It’s only short. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff (in that order)

Warnings: fem!reader, self-doubt, self body shaming, oral (female receiving), Agent Whiskey I guess, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: When getting ready for a party, Whiskey is not please to find out how his girl feels about herself

“Should we say...another hour and then go?” Jack asked glancing down at his watch.

“An hour? We’ll be late if we do that” she pointed out with a laugh as she brushed through her hair.

“Fashionably late, baby” he smirked wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a long kiss to her cheek. “We won’t miss much anyway. Not a lot happens in the first hour of a party. Unless you’re ready now, in which case we can leave a little earlier. You look so fucking beautiful, sugar. I’m loving you in these shorts”

His hand slipped down her body to pinch her ass making her squeak. He chuckled at this and turned to look at her through the mirror she was getting ready in front of. “Jack, I’m not going out in shorts” she scoffed as she finished with her hair turning to the wardrobe to pull out some actual clothes.

“Why’d you say it like that?” He questioned going to sit at the foot of their bed and watched as she scanned through various items of clothing. 

“Seriously Jack?” She asked looking over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes.

“What?” He was incredibly confused at her tone. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m not going to embarrass you by wearing shorts to this party. It’s bad enough you’re stuck with me anyway...” her voice got lower and quieter as she spoke, her mood going down.

“Embarrass-What are you talking about?” Jack stared at the back of her, watching as her shoulders dropped. He marched over to her and force her to turn to face him. “(Y/N), baby, what’s going on?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. Once again falling in love with those beautiful honey eyes. “Jack...” she said “I-I can’t go out wearing these” she motioned to her shorts, his gaze flicking down to them before returning to her eyes “everyone will...see my legs...”

“So?”

“So? Jack, look at them!”

“I am. I don’t see your point”

“My point is, they’re big! I’m big! People will look at them and then...laugh...or whisper...and it will reflect bad on you. I’m scared that they will make you realise what I look like...and then...you’ll leave me”

“(Y/N),” his tone was stern, one he used very rarely, she knew she had down wrong “I am looking at you. And you’re fucking beautiful. Anyone who looks at you and laughs does it because they are jealous they aren’t you” he stepped back a little to admire her body “fuck darlin’,” he whispered “look at you. I’d be a fucking fool to leave you. I’m so damn lucky that you’re all mine. Every fucking inch of you”

He fell to his knees with a gentle thud and shuffled closer to her, dragging his hands up and down her legs in a loving motion. “Jack...” she whispered to him, bringing one hand to rest on his head. His hand lifted up her shirt slightly so that he could place soft kisses to her stomach.

“You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world. Inside and out” he mumbled between kisses. His hands slid round to her ass, grabbing generous handfuls of it before returning to slide up and down her legs. “I love you so much. All of you. And I mean all of you” he moved his lips to her thighs kissing each one in turn “I love your legs, your thighs, your hands, your stomach, your breasts, your neck, your lips, you nose, your eyes, fucking everything. I love you”

“I love you too Jack...” she whispered, her fingers slipping into his dark locks. His fingers slipped into the waistband of her shorts and tugged them down along with her panties in one fluid motion. She let out a soft gasp and looked down at him.

He was staring back up at her with dark eyes full of lust and love for her. His eyes never left hers as he inched his face closer to her growing wetness between her legs. She couldn’t help but bite her lips as she watch his tongue slip past his lips and lick a stripe between her folds making her moan quietly and grip hold of his hair.

Jack then fully attached his mouth to her mound. She stumbled backwards as his tongue skilfully abused her clit, her back hitting the door of the wardrobe behind her. Her legs spread a little but Jack didn’t like that. He wanted her thighs to pressed against his head as he ate her out. His arms hooked around her thighs to pull them together so they were pressing against him. He hummed at the feeling making her moan loudly.

“Jack-“ she whimpered breathlessly as her fingers desperately carded through his hair. She was loosing all control of her body, but there was nothing new there. Her mouth hanging open, letting out adorable pants that he loved so much.

“I fucking love this” he mumbled against her “being between your legs. Hearing those sweet moans...you’re fucking perfect baby”

If it was her fate to die in that moment, she would’ve happily accepted. Having the most wonderful man between her legs, eating her out like she was his only source of nutrition, complimenting her, telling her how perfect she was, it seemed like the perfect way to end life. But it wasn’t her time yet. And Jack wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

All she could managed was whimpers, moans and pants of his name. His tongue was like magic on her, she could forget everything. To be honest, he had used his power a few times to get her to forgive him after running off on a mission for weeks without telling her, he felt bad about it but it worked and he was making her happy so what more could he want? He would happily spend all day between her legs if he could.

His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her thighs trying to hold them closer against him. His tongue swirled around her clit and her hips began to roll against his mouth, her moans beginning to pick up as well. “J-Jack” She stuttered. He knew that tone of voice. A breathless squeak signalling she was close to her end. But he wasn’t going to let her come just yet. He needed something else from her.

“You’re so beautiful darlin’” he told her quietly “and you’re even more beautiful when you come...do you want to come?” He teased her.

She nodded “yes...yes Jack I want to come” She panted.

“Then say it” he ordered “tell me how beautiful you are”

“Jack” she protested. He wasn’t having it. He pulled his mouth off her and stared up at her. “Fuck!” She screamed out, her legs shaking from being left right in the edge of pleasure.

“Say it” he ordered again, his hands tightening their grip on her thighs “or I’ll leave you here like this and go on my own”

“Fuck!” She cried again “I’m beautiful! I’m so beautiful Jack! I’m perfect as I am!” She said quickly.

“Good girl” he praised before returning his mouth to her. He went harder and faster with his tongue this time, she deserved a reward for admitting the truth about herself.

Her chants of his name slowly died in her throat as her climax washed over her making her cry out and clench her thighs together. Perfect. He couldn’t help but smile.

Her legs shook as he licked her clean, bringing her down from her high. Her legs loosened and allowed him to pull away. He got to his feet and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her almost limp body against his. Jack pressed his lips against hers to bring her back into reality, even though she was perfectly happy in her fantasy world he had sent her to.

“I’m-I’m sorry Jack” she whispered once he pulled away “it’s just...ever other guy I’ve been with...has always pointed it out and made me feel...terrible...and you hadn’t said anything and...I don’t know...I guess I was just worried you were going to realise what I look like...”

He lifted his hands to her cheeks to wipe away the stray tears that she didn’t realise had fallen “none of that, Sugar” he said softly “any man who made you feel awful simply because of what you look like is no man at all. Shit, I hope they live their pathetic little lives in regret that they’ve lost such a fine-ass woman. I’d fucking do anything to get you back if I ever lost you, not that I ever plan on going anywhere that doesn’t have you. And I know what you look like, I know what I’m looking at, and I’d rather look at you than anything else. Nothing, no sunset, no forest, no beach, no mountain, nothing comes close to comparing with you, beautiful”

She smiled up and him and wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. “You make me feel so beautiful Jack. You make me feel so special. I love you more than I could ever love anything or anyone. You’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me” she muttered into his shirt.

“I love you too, little lady” he smiled pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. She pulled back and leaned up to press a long kiss to his lips which he happily returned. Once he pulled back he looked at his watch “we’ve still got a little time...” he spoke in a suggestive tone, raising an eyebrow “think we could go a few rounds?”

She laughed slightly “okay, Agent, but make it quick. I don’t want another mishap like last time”

“Oh come on!” He chuckled “you didn’t look that bad. It was pretty hot”

“I suppose you did look pretty good with love bites all over your neck”

“And you know I’m yours to mark” he smirked.

“Yes, now, are you just going to stand there or are you going to take me to bed?” She didn’t need to ask him twice before she was thrown onto the bed, her shorts being momentarily forgotten. But she was definitely going to wear them, over and over again.

Masterlist

03/07/20

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfic #Jack Daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic #Kingsman: the golden circle #fluff #smut #angst #Pedro Pascal #fanfic

[theworldthatneverwas]

Between Part and Meet - Trio

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ephemer & Player Character & Skuld (Kingdom Hearts)

***

“Do you have a reservation, kupo?” the Moogle at the host stand asks you.

“Um, yes, I think so,” you say. “It might be under Ephemer?”

The Moogle scans through the list and nods. “You’re the first to arrive. Come this way, kupo.”

Feeling a little out of place, you follow the Moogle to a comfortable-looking booth with a frosted window overlooking the streets of Daybreak Town. You slide into the booth and are handed a menu and a bundle of utensils. “Can I get you anything to drink while you wait, kupo?” the Moogle asks.

“Um, just water is fine,” you reply a bit distractedly. The Moogle nods and floats away, leaving you to glance over the menu.

You’ve always been the early one when meeting up with Ephemer, and often when meeting with Skuld, too. It just feels nicer being early than it does being right on time or late. But this is the first time the three of you are meeting up outside of the clock tower, and not at anyone’s home. You hope they aren’t so busy with Union leader stuff that they forget about your plans together tonight at this restaurant.

You’ve even dressed up for the occasion – not too much, of course, but you’re not just wearing your usual mission clothes, either. Chirithy had helped you pick out your outfit and had been patient as you tried on different articles of clothing until you settled on this one.

You glance at the menu items without really reading them. You haven’t eaten at a restaurant in ages. So long, in fact, that you wonder briefly if there are any etiquette rules you might have forgotten. The Moogle comes back with your glass of water and you glance around at the other restaurant-goers. Many seem to be eating together in pairs, you realize. There’s a rather rowdy group of friends in a corner near the door, and a table of people who seem to have finished their food long ago and are just sitting and talking. That seems nice, you think. Just having somewhere to sit and talk with your friends.

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you look up with a jolt, then relax as you recognize the smiling face of Skuld. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” she says, sliding into the seat across from you. “Ephemer’s on his way too, but he told me to go without him in case you came early so you wouldn’t be sitting alone. We both guessed you’d be the first to arrive.”

“Typical,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “But – wait I didn’t get a good look at you before you sat down. That’s a really nice shirt! Can I see the whole outfit?”

Skuld’s smile is radiant as she shimmies out of the booth to stand so you can see the whole outfit. Her usual skirt and zippered top are traded out for a lovely top with a high neckline and high-waisted pants. She’s even tied her hair into an elegant updo, though you can see that she hasn't traded out her familiar star-shaped studs. “You look wonderful!” you say. “I’m flattered you’d take the time to put your hair up like that, too. Did it take long?”

“I got Lauriam to help, actually,” she says, sitting back down and turning her head so you can admire the delicate twists of her hair. “He’s got all kinds of weird skills like that. He walked past me trying to do it myself and offered to help, and well, here we are.”

“He seems like a pretty interesting guy,” you say, propping up your cheek on your hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help him with his little sister. Have you found out anything more about her?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with another water for Skuld. “Need a bit more time before you decide, kupo?” they ask, and you both nod in unison.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu,” you admit, pulling it up in front of you again. “Is there anything you recommend?”

“Hmm…” Skuld muses, running a finger down some of the options. “I’ve heard they have good spinach dip. And that their pastas are huge so it’s good to share.”

“Those both sound good. We could all get something different and try each others’, too.”

“I hope you two haven’t ordered without me.”

You look up from the menu to see Ephemer, smiling broadly. He slides into the booth next to you and you look him up and down to take in his outfit. Of all things, you’re most surprised that his red scarf is nowhere in sight, though he’s wearing a collared shirt that’s a similar shade of crimson. He’s even tucked his shirt into proper dress pants. His sleeves are rolled up, though his usual gloves are gone, too. It’s a rather nice look on him.

“Wow, Eph, you really cleaned up,” Skuld teases, leaning across the table.

“Excuse you, I always look this dashing – I just have specific wardrobe choices I like to keep to. Gotta maintain a certain aesthetic.”

You grin. “You look really nice. Your hair’s even less poofy than usual.” And it’s true, too – his normally chaotically curly hair is surprisingly tame today.

He turns to you and raises a hand to lightly pat at his own hair. “It took a lot more effort than I usually put into it,” he admits. He takes a moment to look at your own outfit and smiles. “You look pretty nice, yourself. Really nice, I mean. It suits you.”

You find your face growing warm at the compliment and hide it by directing everyone’s attention to the menu again. “So, what are we eating? Skuld and I were thinking we could each get something different to share.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Ephemer says, rotating the menu to read it better. “Can we share some of these appetisers first, maybe? And then get a bigger meal.”

You gesture across the table. “Skuld was just saying the spinach dip is supposed to be good. And the pasta portions are really big.”

“Okay, let’s do the spinach dip then, and maybe two of the pastas?”

You and Skuld both nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with a third glass of water for Ephemer and asks, “Does everyone know what they’d like to order, kupo?”

“Uh… I’ll let you guys each pick a pasta,” you say, and they both quickly study the menu. “We’ll have some spinach dip to start.”

“Let’s go with this… noc… no-chee and sweet potatoes pasta,” Ephemer says, and you chuckle under your breath as you look at the entry he’s pointing to on the menu.

“The sweet potato and hazelnut gnocchi,” you correct, and Ephemer looks a bit bewildered as he studies the word again, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh that sounds good, okay, and then how about this smoked salmon alfredo for the second pasta,” Skuld says to the Moogle, pointing at the menu before handing it over to them. “We’d like to split them so if you could just bring us a couple of side plates that would be excellent.”

“Understood, kupo. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

Ephemer suddenly looks hopeful. “Do you have milkshakes?” he asks in an unusually small voice.

Though it’s hard to understand Moogle expressions, you think this one might be smiling. “Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry milkshakes, kupo.”

“I’ll have a vanilla milkshake, then,” he says.

The Moogle nods. “I’ll be back with it soon, kupo!”

Skuld shakes her head at Ephemer. “A milkshake, huh?”

“I’m always up for ice cream,” he says. He bumps your shoulder with his own. “Wonder what a sea salt ice cream milkshake would taste like.”

You shrug. “Probably much the same as the ice cream itself. Sweet and a bit salty.”

“Do you think ice cream is hard to make? It seems like it would be.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried it. Might need a special machine or something. I’m not sure how it gets so fluffy.”

“If it’s anything like whipped cream,” Skuld chimes in, “I bet it needs a lot of mixing.”

In short order, Ephemer’s milkshake is delivered. He takes an eager sip from the straw and lets out a satisfied “ahh” before he pushes it towards you. “Want some?”

You take a sip yourself. It’s wonderfully creamy and vanilla-y. “Yum,” you say, licking your lips.

Ephemer offers his drink to Skuld in turn and she takes a small sip. “Oh that is good,” she says. “Now I almost wish I’d gotten one, too.”

“Excuse me!” Ephemer says abruptly, stopping a nearby Moogle who was passing by your booth. “Could we get two more milkshakes?”

“What kind would you like, kupo?”

“Wha – Ephemer, I don’t actually need one–” Skuld splutters, reddening under the Moogle’s expectant gaze.

He shakes his head at her. “Just go for it!” he says. “You may as well while we’re here.”

“Um, one strawberry milkshake,” you say politely. Ephemer grins at you and Skuld sighs before giving in.

“Okay, and one… one chocolate milkshake.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back, kupo.”

Skuld stretches her arms out over the table. “I shouldn’t let you guys convince me to buy things I don’t need,” she says.

You shrug. “I think it’s good to treat yourself, too. If you only ever bought things you absolutely needed you’d have nothing to look forward to.”

“I was just going to say you should buy milkshakes because they’re delicious but that sounds much more reasonable.” Ephemer takes another sip of his milkshake. “Soo good.”

Skuld leans against the back of the booth. “True. On both accounts, really.”

The Moogle returns with your requested milkshakes and you take an eager sip of yours. “Oh the strawberry flavour is so nice,” you say, sliding it along the table to Ephemer. “Try some?”

Skuld takes a sip of her own drink and smiles. “I mean, it is good. Here, try mine too.” You swap drinks. The chocolate has almost a hint of bitterness to it, and it, too, is very tasty.

The three of you make small talk until your spinach dip is delivered not long after. You scoop some of the warm cheesy dip onto a piece of toasted flatbread and blow on it before taking a tiny bite. It’s very hot, but also pleasantly creamy and flavourful.

“So Ephemer,” Skuld says as she scoops some of the dip onto a piece of bread, “can we talk about how you’ve never seen the word ‘gnocchi’ before?” You snort with laughter, suddenly remembering.

Ephemer is indignant. “I have seen it before! I’ve just never had to say it aloud!”

To Ephemer’s credit, it’s not an easy word to understand the pronunciation of, but it’s too fun to tease him like this. “Do you know what gnocchi is?”

“I do! It’s like little potato pasta things. Isn’t it?” He suddenly seems a bit unsure of himself and looks to you for support.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much right,” you laugh, taking another bite of your appetiser. “How did he say it again?” You turn to Skuld. “'No-chee'?”

She grins and Ephemer ducks his head slightly under the pretense of taking another sip of his milkshake. You can see that his cheeks have gone a bit pink. You pat his leg under the table. “Aw, it’s okay, sunshine. We’re just having a bit of fun. I think the Moogle knew what you wanted, anyway.”

He leans his head against your shoulder in mock grief. “All I wanted was some pasta.”

You pat his hair gently. It’s extremely soft today, perhaps having something to do with however he got his curls to look more tame. You reach forward to grab another piece of bread to dunk in the spinach dip and Ephemer sits back up so he can help himself as well. The appetiser wasn’t too big, and it’s just enough to satisfy your hunger a teeny bit until you get the pasta dishes.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” Skuld says, pushing the dirty plates off to one side so she can reach a hand towards you over the table. “I finally saw Brain make food today. Or well, not really make food. But I did catch him eating some hard-boiled eggs? So I assume he made them himself.”

“Oh good, proof he actually does eat sometimes.” You trace your thumb over the back of Skuld’s hand. “I wonder if he ever goes out to eat. Do you think he hoards food in his room?”

She looks thoughtful. “Honestly the only places I ever see him are in the control room, in the main meeting room, or in his own room. So I can’t imagine he just heads out on the town to buy food very often.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Ephemer adds, propping up his cheek on his elbow. “He left with Lauriam one time to go somewhere in Daybreak Town. I don’t know if they went shopping, exactly, but they went out to do something .”

“Maybe the reason he always leaves fighting monsters to the rest of us is because he never has any energy due to lack of food.”

“Does he drink coffee?” you ask, trying to think if you’d seen him with a mug or a cup of anything the last time you’d been at the clock tower.

“I… don’t… think so? He might. There isn’t a coffee machine in the common kitchen area though, so he’d have to have it in his room.” She looks at Ephemer. “I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen him have a glass of water when he’s working.”

“Oh, no, one time I offered him a cup and he was scandalized. Told me off for even thinking of putting water anywhere near all of the computers. Which I guess kind of makes sense. We often have a bunch of papers all over the desks too so it would be bad if we spilled something on them.”

“Hmm,” you say, tracing along a dark line in the wood of the table top with your free hand. “Do you think it’d be weird if we tried to get together and have a meal sometime? Like, all the Union leaders. Or would that be extra weird to have me along since I’m not really part of the leaders…” You trail off, wondering if you’ve overstepped.

Skuld squeezes your other hand reassuringly. “No, I think that sounds great! I love your cooking. We could all try to pitch in and have a potluck, maybe!”

“Yeah that sounds excellent!” Ephemer agrees, nodding. “I’m always up for good food.”

“You’d have to make something too,” you point out. “It’s a potluck.”

“I can make food!” he insists. “You two have no faith in me.”

You and Skuld exchange a grin. “I’ll believe it when I taste it,” you tease.

Your food arrives just then, and you let go of Skuld’s hand to clear a space in the middle of the table for it to be set down. Both pastas are steaming and look wonderful. The Moogle places some extra plates down as well and picks up your spinach dip dishes to take away while another Moogle comes by with a cheese grater.

“Can I offer you some Parmesan cheese, kupo?” they ask, and Ephemer eagerly offers forth the smoked salmon dish.

“Yes, please!” he says, then looks to you and Skuld to confirm this is okay. Skuld shrugs and nods and you agree. The Moogle grates a nice little pile of Parmesan shavings onto the pasta and departs.

“Oh I am so ready to dig into this,” Ephemer says, unwrapping his fork from the napkin and scooping some of the nearest pasta onto his plate.

“Skuld, what are these little green things?” you ask, patting Ephemer’s arm so he can pass you a plate as well.

She inspects it for a moment. They’re about the size of peas but darker and a bit more leafy-looking. “Ohh these are the capers,” she explains, and pops one into her mouth. “Yeah. They’re like tiny flower buds.”

“Huh. I don’t know if I’ve ever had them before.” You scoop some of the pasta onto your dish and spear a caper experimentally on your fork before putting it in your mouth. “Hmm. Kinda salty? It’s good though.”

Skuld nods. “It goes well with the salmon.”

“Gonna try some of the no-chee?” you tease, gesturing to the other pasta plate.

“Yes I find I’m rather fond of no-chee,” she laughs and helps herself to the gnocchi. Ephemer makes a pouty face at the two of you but says nothing, his mouth full of pasta.

You take a sip of your strawberry milkshake – nearly done – and scoop some of the gnocchi out onto your plate as well. The hazelnuts give it a pleasant, earthy flavour along with the sweet potatoes. It’s a nice combination. “Good pick, Ephemer,” you say after swallowing your mouthful. “Might have to try making this sometime.”

“I might not know how to pronounce it, but I can still appreciate good food,” he says with a grin.

“Oh hang on, there’s a plate of garlic bread here, too,” Skuld says, moving the pasta dishes aside to put the plate in the center of the table. “Aw and there are three pieces even though we just got the two pastas, that’s nice. Okay, everyone gets one.”

The garlic bread seems to have been made from a rounded bun of sorts, and it’s wonderfully crispy on the flat side but fluffy and soft on the rounded side. “I might have to just order a basket of garlic bread the next time I come here,” you say after you’ve devoured your piece. “That was excellent. ”

Skuld drags her straw around the edge of her glass to get the last of her milkshake. “I think all the food we’ve had has been excellent. I’d come back.”

“I’d like that,” Ephemer says after swallowing a mouthful of food. “I mean, I just like eating food with you guys.”

“Is it because you don’t want to cook for yourself?” Skuld teases.

“No! I just like having familiar things.” This isn’t a particularly surprising sentiment coming from the boy who’d eaten the exact same flavour of ice cream with you day in and day out for nearly a year.

“Maybe we should try different places each time,” you offer. “You know. In case we find other foods we really like.”

Ephemer falls silent as he considers this but Skuld nods. “I like that. And then if we have a favourite place we can always come back to it.” She looks to Ephemer for agreement.

“Yeah… okay. When would we go? Once a week?”

Skuld shakes her head in surprise, glancing at Ephemer. “I don’t know if either of us can consistently set aside that kind of time. Maybe every three weeks? We can always try to get together on the off weeks, obviously. We just wouldn’t be going to restaurants.”

You feel a little twinge of sadness at the suggested schedule – surely Skuld and Ephemer will be seeing each other a lot more often than you’ll be seeing them in between meetups – but… well, any time you can hang out with them is good. “That’s all right by me,” you say.

“Great, it’s a plan. Ephemer and I will figure out a day that works best and let you know as soon as we can.”

Unexpectedly, you find yourself trying to avoid their gazes and look down at your plate under the pretense of trying to scoop a hazelnut onto your fork. It’s fine that Skuld and Ephemer have Union leader stuff to do. Obviously. They’ll let you know as soon as they’re free. “Yeah, sure.” The words feel uncomfortable in your tight throat.

Luckily, Skuld doesn’t seem to notice. You chance a glimpse up at her and she’s back to eating the last of her pasta. Ephemer bumps his shoulder against yours and smiles radiantly and you wonder if he noticed your reaction. You do your best to smile back and quickly turn away, picking up your near-empty glass of strawberry milkshake as though you think you can get more ice cream out of it. It’s fine. You’re fine.

“Well, that’s all for me,” Skuld declares, setting down her fork. “Ephemer, you want the last of the gnoc – ahem – the no-chee?”

Ephemer rolls his eyes at her. “Sure, I’ll finish it. You want any more before I take it?” he asks, offering the plate to you. You shake your head and he scoops the last of the gnocchi onto his plate. “Excellent.”

You lean against the back of the booth as well. “I’m full too. That was really yum.”

“I might have to try making gnocchi one of these times,” Skuld says thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would be too hard. Don’t you just cook the potatoes and then add some flour and stuff?”

You shrug. “I’ve never tried. You might have to cook it after you mix everything together, or maybe you can just use it in a dish as soon as you’re done, I’m not sure. I’d want a recipe before I try making it for the first time.”

Ephemer puts down his fork at last with a satisfied sigh, pushing his plate away from himself. “I mean, if you two want to cook no-kee then I wouldn’t complain about trying it.”

“Gnocchi,” Skuld corrects offhand, smiling, “and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind eating free food, huh?”

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t pass it up.”

A Moogle comes by to pick up your dirty dishes. “Can I interest you in any dessert, kupo?”

Ephemer looks longingly at the dessert menu but you and Skuld both shake your heads. “I’m really full, but thank you,” you say.

Ephemer sighs. “Me too. Maybe next time though.”

The Moogle nods. “And how would you like to pay tonight, kupo? All on one bill, or separate?”

“Oh, uhh…”

“One bill is fine,” you interrupt. The Moogle nods and leaves.

“How much do I owe you?” Skuld asks, digging in her bag, but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll get this one. Then we’ll just have to go out again so you guys can pay me back.”

“Are you sure?” Ephemer asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

He slumps back in his seat. “Well, okay then.”

You pat his leg. “It’s my ploy to get you guys to hang out with me more,” you stage-whisper, ostensibly joking but also secretly hoping that they really will make sure you go out at least once more together.

The Moogle comes by with the bill and you hand over some munny, thanking them for the lovely meal. “I guess we should head out,” Skuld says, looking around. “It’s pretty busy so we shouldn’t take up an extra table.”

“Yeah, that’s… of course.” You glance at Ephemer and he slides out of the booth to let you out too. The three of you wind your way around the tables and out onto the streets of Daybreak Town.

“Thanks for the night out, you two,” Skuld says as the restaurant door closes behind you. She pulls on a motorcycle jacket on top of her fancy outfit, making it look more casual, but also somehow more… Skuld. Ephemer rolls down his sleeves but otherwise doesn’t seem as bothered by the cool breeze. Typical.

“This was really nice,” you say, stretching your arms out in front of yourself. “Thanks for coming.”

Unexpectedly, Ephemer pulls the three of you into a hug. “I’m glad things worked out that we could all meet up again,” he says.

“I… yeah, me too,” you say, wrapping your arms around the two of them. You’re not quite sure if he means he’s glad you could meet up tonight or if he’s grateful that, after all that has happened, despite being separated, the three of you managed to end up in the same world. You're glad for both, in any case.

“Well, I guess we should be off,” Skuld says when you break apart. “Do you want us to walk you home?”

Yes. “No, that’s all right,” you say. “I live in the other direction, anyway. I’ll see you guys soon!”

They smile and wave at you as they turn to walk in the other direction. You walk boldly through the streets, not looking back until you’re sure they must be out of sight, then sit down on the curb on a small side street. “Lucky?” you call tentatively.

Your Spirit companion poofs into existence beside you in the form of the fluffiest pink dog you’ve ever seen. They crawl up into your lap and their pink tongue laps at your chin. “No, no, it’s fine, settle down,” you say, pushing them down. Lucky quivers in your lap, their tiny tail thumping against your knees. You stroke their head softly. “I just needed a hug. And I didn’t want to let Chirithy know. You won’t tell them, will you Lucky?”

Lucky’s pink tongue lolls out of their mouth for a moment as they pant, then they lay their head down on your arm and look up at you with big eyes. You run a hand along their fluffy fur absentmindedly.

“I just… I think I get jealous of Skuld and Ephemer hanging out? I don’t know if that’s what it is, exactly. I just know I feel upset when I think about them hanging out without me. And I know a lot of it is unavoidable – obviously they’re both Union leaders, so they’re going to see each other around the tower and have Union leader meetings and stuff. So it’s stupid to get upset over it. Right? I feel like I’m just bringing the mood down because I want to spend time with them, too.”

Lucky’s quiet in your lap and you continue to stroke their fur. “I don’t want them to feel bad, either. I know they already feel bad enough for keeping things from me about the Keyblade War and all that. And I really, really want things to go back to normal.” You sigh deeply and Lucky’s tail starts to wag again. “Yeah, okay, we can go home,” you say, ushering them off your lap. Their shape changes to that of a little wolf, like they want to protect you as you walk home. You reach down and pat them between the ears. “Thanks.”

*

Ephemer turns to look back at you as he and Skuld walk in the other direction towards the tower, but you’re already partway down the street, confidently strolling away. “Did you think… did you think Peach seemed a bit troubled back there?” he asks.

“Just now, you mean?” Skuld asks, turning to him in surprise. “No, not really. Did you?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I just thought they seemed a bit sad about something.”

“Well, we can ask the next time we all get together. Make sure they’re all right.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I hope we’re not too busy this week.”

***

Find Between Part and Meet on AO3! It updates every other Tuesday. This is the first chapter out of 6. I also have several other KHUx fics there under theworldthatneverwas, so be sure to check them out if you enjoyed this one!

Fic summary: You, Ephemer, and Skuld are back together again in Daybreak Town, but adjusting to normal life after the Keyblade War is easier said than done. And with Ephemer and Skuld so busy with their Union leader duties, what will it take to build this friendship up to weather any storm?

#ephemer #khux #kingdom hearts #skuld #union cross #fanfic #twtnw posts #between part and meet

[morningfears]

DIY Romance

Rating: PG

Summary: “Am I your lock screen? That’s so cute.” “...you weren’t supposed to see that.” For @marvelsperalta​. Ft. YouTuber!Reader and YouTuber!Cal that no one asked for but I’m sort of obsessed with. And pining best friends to lovers! (Also, I haven’t written anything in months pls don’t judge me I’m rusty thx)

Word Count: 1.6k

“Hey, guys! Welcome back to my channel, I hope you’re all having an amazing day! Today’s video is going to be super fun because Calum, my best friend and nine-tenths of my impulse control, is joining me.”

Calum knows that he should glance at the camera as you introduce him, knows that you’ll playfully scold him later as you edit the footage, but he keeps his gaze firmly on you as you smile brightly at the camera. He’s got a small smile of his own, his lips tilted up at the corner, and pink tinged cheeks as you gesture at the table full of craft supplies in front of you both.

“We’re going to be attempting to follow some really interesting holiday crafts, some edible and some not, here on my channel. Notice how I said attempting, by the way. Last year’s holiday video turned into a dumpster fire so quickly so… Hopefully this year will be different! On Calum’s channel, you’re going to get to see me epically fail at learning how to play a few of our favorite holiday pop punk songs on the bass!”

Calum laughs at this as he recalls the last time he attempted to teach you how to play a song on bass. For someone who knew how to play piano and was fairly good at picking up new skills, he remembered thinking that you were hopeless. However, that didn’t stop him from attempting to teach you new songs as it always gave him an excuse to sit just a little closer, his knees touching yours and his fingers brushing over the back of your hand as he attempted to show you the right chord.

“I’ll leave a link to Cal’s channel in the box below, along with his Insta handle because I always get a million comments asking for it because apparently you all have a crush on Cal.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” Calum questions, his voice dropping into an over exaggerated caricature of confidence as he winks at the camera. You turn to stare at him for a moment, eyebrows raised but face otherwise void of emotion, before you both giggle at his behavior.

“This is why I don’t let you participate in my videos more than once a year,” you tease with a laugh as Calum nudges your side and you attempt to keep the goofy smile that your subscribers mercilessly point out any time Calum appears on your channel (or on your Instagram) off your face.

You know that it’s cliche, you’ve told yourself that time and time again (and your friends, any time they ask about what’s really going on between you and Calum), but you couldn’t help falling for your best friend. It wasn’t love at first sight, contrary to what everyone seemed to think, but you’ve found that Calum is the kind of person that almost worms his way into your heart. He’s thoughtful and kind, funny and charming, talented and hardworking, and, as if his heart wasn’t already the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, his physical appearance (no matter how drastically he changed his hair or his wardrobe) was just as beautiful.

You sometimes hate that you fell so hard for someone you consider your closest friend. However, when he moves just a little closer as you reach for the basket containing the items you need for your first holiday craft, you can’t help but think about the little moments that make you think your feelings might not be one-sided.

Any time there’s a movie night at Luke’s, any time there’s a dinner at Ashton’s, any time there’s a game night at Michael’s; Calum is always by your side. He somehow always manages to claim the seat to your left, his hand on your knee or his arm around your shoulders. He somehow always manages to capture your attention, regardless of how interested you are in the movie or the food or the game at hand. He always manages to be the center of your world, no matter how many people are around, and even managed to keep your attention in the presence of your (at one time) crush.

You sometimes wonder if it’s just him being friendly, if he’s only treating you this way because he’s comfortable around you, or if he’s really interested.

However, before you can think too much about it, yet again, you push the thought to the back of your mind and return to the craft at hand.

“So, up first,” you hum as you begin pulling the ingredients you’ll need for a homemade sugar cookie out of the small red basket, “sugar cookies! We’re going to make some and then decorate them with a few cool hacks I found on Pinterest. We all know that Pinterest hasn’t been my best friend in recent years so let’s hope that these turn out as nice as they looked online.”

Calum is one of your most competent friends in the kitchen. He knows his way around, even if he isn’t the most confident chef there is, and manages to help you get the dough ready to cut into shapes. As you roll it out, flour on your hands and covering your kitchen counter, your cell phone dings and you huff an annoyed breath.

“No one ever wants to talk to me unless I’m filming,” you laugh as you glance at the camera. “Cal, can you silence that for me, please?” you question as you nod at your flour-covered fingers.

“‘Course,” he hums as he reaches for the device. The moment he picks it up from the counter, it goes off again but you pay it no mind as you focus on getting the dough just right. However, after a moment of silence, you glance up to find Calum grinning at your lock screen.

“What?” you question, a frown on your lips as pause and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Am I your lock screen?” he asks as he clears the notifications and turns the device toward the camera. “That’s so cute!”

“…you weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble as you glance at the picture of the two of you that you’d set as your lock screen a few weeks prior. It’s a picture that Luke had taken of the two of you, sitting on his couch. Calum is holding a bowl of popcorn above his head, grinning as you attempt to reach for it. It looks like something out of a cheesy film, some ridiculous photo of two idiots in love, and you loved the photo more than you cared to admit.

It made you feel like there was something there, that you weren’t totally crazy for believing there could be more to you and Calum some day, but you never wanted him to see it. It isn’t weird, not really, but it’s also not completely normal, either. It’s a strange limbo area that you’re not sure how to deal with and you almost reach out for the device, flour hands be damned.

“It really is cute,” Calum hums, his smile blinding as he glances up at you. “Fitting, I guess, ‘cause mine’s of the two of us, too.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, your lips parting in surprise as he fishes his own phone out of his pocket and clicks the home button. As the screen wakes, you catch sight of the two of you, sitting in Ashton’s backyard under the fairy lights his girlfriend had strung around the area to keep everything bright. It’s a picture that you didn’t know existed, one you’d never seen before, and you can’t help but smile at it. “That’s such a good picture,” you mumble before you tear your eyes away from it and glance up at Calum. “When was that taken?”

“Few months ago,” he shrugs as he shoves the device back into his pocket. “Ash took it. He said he was sure we’d want it later. He wasn’t wrong.” When you blink in confusion, Calum steps a little closer to you. “I might’ve read this wrong, might’ve read everything wrong, but I like to think that I haven’t. I’d like to think that you feel for me what I feel for you.”

“And what do you feel for me?” you ask, even though you’re half certain you already know the answer.

“I’m into you,” Calum offers, his voice going quiet as he glances down at the floor. “I have been for a while but I’ve just been too afraid to make a move. A real one, anyway. But I’m tired of hinting and hoping.”

“I feel the same,” you nod, a small smile on your lips as you wait for him to lift his gaze from the floor to your eyes. “I’m into you, too. And I’m glad that you made the first move because we both know I would’ve overthought it to the point of nothing actually happening.”

Calum laughs at this, nodding as he considers just how true that statement likely is, and grins at you. “Does this mean that you’ll let me take you on a date tonight instead of us hanging out at Luke’s, watching movies with our friends?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, your grin matching his as you reach for a towel to wipe your hands. “I don’t think I could think of a better way to spend tonight than by having date night with you.”

The pair of you stand there for a moment, grins stretching your lips and nothing else seeming to exist, and Calum moves as if he plans to kiss you when the beeping of your camera battery pulls you from your fantasy. You blink, mildly disoriented, and laugh as you realize that you’d filmed the whole thing. “I don’t think that’s going to make it into the final video,” you hum as you reach to turn off your camera for a moment, “but I don’t think I’m too upset about having that footage.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I haven’t written in months, help. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with this AU it’s just fun. Okay, I’m tired. I’m gonna go watch more YouTube. No, I don’t have a problem. Goodbye.

#calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos stories #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood preference #calum hood fanfic #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #5sos x reader #5sos preference #5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer preference #mine

[hargreeveslftv]

The Occult: DOOMSDAY | an umbrella academy series

chapter four | word count: 3,452

CHAPTER FOUR | danger danger ( song | sinnerman - nina simone )

“What did I miss?” Melanie asks, taking her coat off and throwing it over the arm of the couch as she joins her family around the bar, receiving a call from Allison after only a couple hours of being back at work, telling her there was a family emergency. 

“Nothing so far.” Diego replies, Melanie giving him a nod as she comes to a stop beside Klaus. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” She says to him quietly, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice. 

“Oh? Sorry about that, Five and I were doing a bit of brotherly bonding time, but I think I was the only one into it.” He explains, pulling a light laugh out of her. 

“Well, now we’re all here,” Luther says, stepping forward and hitting play on the TV that looked nearly as old as everyone in the room. 

Klaus silently offers Melanie some of his chips as the siblings gather around the TV, where Melanie looks away as she realises what they’re watching. 

“Really Luther? I don’t wanna see this shit.” She frowns, immediately to be hushed by him. 

“Look at Grace, she does something to Dad right before he dies.” He tells her, Diego jumping to her defense at the uncomfortable change in her body language. 

“She doesn’t want to watch it, Luther. What’s the point of this anyway?” He asks suspiciously. 

“It looks like she did something to him." 

"Do you really think Mom would do something to hurt Dad?” Vanya asks, stepping around Luther to see the TV more clearly. 

“You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya. Maybe you don’t know Grace anymore.” Luther argues, turning his back on her. 

“If he was poisoned,” Diego points out, “it would have shown up on the coroner’s report." 

"Well I don’t need a report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.” He fights back, the tension in the room building more by the second. 

“Maybe all that low gravity in space messed with your vision.” Diego remarks, messing with the TV and rewinding the video, “Look closer." 

"Dad has his monocle, Mom stands up, monocle’s gone." 

"Oh yeah!” Klaus chuckles, Melanie taking another chip out of the bag before walking over to the couch on the right side of the room and sitting down with a huff. 

“Great, I left work for a monocle.” Melanie comments tiredly. 

“She wasn’t poisoning him, she was taking it. To clean it.” Diego explains, closing the case on the situation. 

“Then where is it?” Luther counters. Okay, case still not closed. 

“No, I’ve searched the house, including all her things. She doesn’t have it.” He continues, Diego looking down at his feet as he lets out a tired sigh. 

“That’s because… I took it from her. After the funeral." 

"You’ve had the monocle this whole time? What the hell Diego?” Allison asks angrily. 

“Give it to me-” Luther demands, before Diego cuts him off. 

“I threw it away." 

Melanie looks up to Klaus, who rests against the pillar beside her with a frown before looking to Diego. 

"Was that why we drove to the docks?” She asks him, to which he replies silently with a nod. 

“You what?” Luther questions aggressively, taking a step towards him. 

“Look, I knew,” Diego replies, pointing one of his knives at Luther, “that if you found it on Mom, you’d lose your shit, just like you’re doing right now." 

"Diego, you son of a bitch-" 

"Hey, no, calm down.” Vanya interrupts, surprising everyone in the room. 

“Look, I know Dad wasn’t exactly a open book. But I do remember one thing he said.” She explains. “Mom was, well, designed to be a caretaker, but also as a protector." 

"What does that mean?” Allison asks. 

“She was programmed to intervene if someone’s life was in jeopardy.”

“Well if her hardware is degrading then… we need to turn her off.” Luther says decisively, causing an uproar throughout the room. 

“Like hell you are!” Melanie argues, Diego doing the same. 

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, wait. She’s not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet! She feels things, I’ve seen it!" 

"She just stood there, Diego, and watched our father die.” Luther argues back. 

“I’m with Luther.” Allison adds. 

“Surprise surprise.” Diego comments angrily. 

“Oh come on Allison, you can’t be serious.” Melanie says with crossed arms, standing up and taking a couple steps forward so she stood beside Vanya. 

“Shut up.” Allison replies, waving off both of them. 

Everyone then looks to Vanya, her being a tiebreaker between the two against, and two for. 

“I.. I don't…" 

"Yeah she shouldn’t get a vote.” Diego comments, making Melanie groan. 

“Diego…” She warns, Vanya quickly coming to her own defence. 

“I was gonna say that I agree with you.” She argues, Diego throwing his hands up in response. 

“Okay, she should get a vote.” He turns to Klaus, “What about you, stoner boy? What do you got?" 

"Oh so what? You need my help now?” Klaus asks, annoyance threaded in his tone. “Oh, "Get out of the van, Klaus!” “Well, welcome back to the van.”“

"What van?” Allison questions. 

Luther scoffs, turning to Klaus himself. 

“What’s it gonna be, Klaus?" 

"I’m with Diego, cause screw you!” He replies, instantly deflating Luther’s argument. “And if Ben were here, he’d agree with me." 

Melanie sighs, sitting back down in her spot at the end of the couch with a huff, and feeling a cold chill run up her spine at the cold sensation on her shoulder. 

It was a simple way she communicated with Ben, a tap on the right shoulder for yes, and a tap on the left for no. 

Feeling the chill on her left shoulder, Melanie throws a sorry look over the back of the couch, silently apologising for not communicating the thought Klaus obviously wasn’t either. 

In that moment, Klaus hisses in her direction, though his eyes land in the empty space behind her instead of on her herself.��

"So what’s that?” Diego asks. 

“Four-” Melanie goes to answer, before Allison interrupts her, Diego and Luther. 

“Vote’s not final yet. Five’s not here. The whole family has to vote, we owe each other that." 

Luther and Vanya agree, Melanie getting her coat as Klaus follows her, a few of them moving out of the room once the decision is made. 

As Melanie remembers her dream from the night before, she stops in front of Klaus before he turns to walk up the stairs, him looking at her with raised eyebrows as she does. 

"Hey, uh, do you think you could come back to my place tomorrow night?” She asks, wringing her hands as she looks up to him. 

“Yeah, yeah sure. Everything okay?” He asks, brow furring in concern. 

“Yeah!” She reassures with a smile, “I just, I had a vision last night. I saw some really vivid things involving everyone, and I think we were bringing Ben back." 

"Oh, shit. Yeah I’ll be there, promise.” He agrees, a grin spreading across Melanie’s face. 

“Awesome, thanks Klaus.” She says appreciatively, turning and walking up the stairs a few before stopping as Klaus calls her back. 

“Oh! Mellie,” he calls, following her up the stairs, “Ben says, you should look under the, the what? oh, the red blanket, in the trunk at the end of his bed while you’re here." 

"Really? Why?” She asks, confusion strong in her voice. 

“He says there’s something he’s wanted you to have, apparently he’s been telling me to tell you for ages but I can’t remember hearing about it, myself.” He says with a dramatic wave of his hand, narrowing his eyes as he looks to the spot beside her, obviously in reply to something Ben said. 

“Noted, thanks.” She nods, climbing the stairs again and this time making a beeline to Ben’s room. If he wanted her to see something, she would make it her mission to find it. 

“Are you with me?” She asks, standing outside his room and waiting for a reply before she opens the door. 

Feeling the familiar cold sensation on her right shoulder, she takes a deep breath, twisting the handle and walking inside, closing the door behind her as she sees Klaus waving to her from the short bathroom hall. 

When she actually thought about it, Melanie realised this was actually the first time both her and Klaus were in the academy at the same time in years, and even then, Klaus wasn’t exactly sober enough for Ben to come to him before.

She felt a twinge of guilt as she thought about how long Ben must have been waiting for her to find what he wanted her to have, memories of teenage years filled with avoiding everyone like the plague flashing through her mind. 

“Hopefully what I saw last night lets me hear you so you don’t have to talk through Klaus as often.” She says, kneeling on the floor in front of the trunk pushed up against the end of his bed. 

“That would be nice.” Ben laughs, sitting cross legged on the end of the bed and watching her open the trunk, his words falling flat into the air between them. 

Melanie took a deep breath as she opened the trunk, emotions heavy in her chest as the first thing she sees is Ben’s mask, laid on top of one of his mission uniforms, the rest hanging in the closet behind her. 

Taking the mask delicately in her hands, her thumb brushing over the familiar curves and plains, her mind flashing back to their last mission together, the one before…

Clearing her throat, Melanie continues through the box, carefully sitting things down beside her until she reaches the red quilt. 

Each of the children had a handmade quilt, all of them made by Grace, and each one treasured as one of the only comfort items given to the kids growing up, Melanie receiving hers a month after she arrived. 

Melanie smiled as she acknowledged the number six embroidered in the bottom corner, before moving the blanket and feeling her heart leap to her throat. 

There, sitting battered and worn even after years of careful use, sat a copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, tied up with ribbon with a small red envelope tucked underneath. 

Tears burned her eyes as Melanie took the small book with shaky hands, the touch alone giving her waves upon waves of nostalgia, and the handwriting of her name across the front of the envelope making her take a moment. 

Carefully, she slid the envelope out from under the ribbon, taking the note from inside and using the book as a backing as she read. 

“Bookshelves need books, and I think this should be the first one on ours. We’ve waited for so long to get to this point, but there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side heading into whatever the future has in store for us. Don’t fight me on this, cause I already know you will. Melanie, this is for you.” 

“Oh,” Melanie cries, “you sappy little shit.”

She wipes her tears away with her sleeves, but the tear stains on her face give away the obvious flood of emotion she feels from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. 

Hugging the book and note close to her chest, she laughs lightly as she feels the softest chill of ice she’s ever felt pressing against her hair, knowing it was Ben who sat with her in the moment. 

“I hope you know I’m never gonna give up on getting you back, ya know.” She tells him, sincerity concrete in her tone. 

Melanie spends a good amount of time restacking the trunk, before laying down on Ben’s bed with the book and note sitting on her chest. 

But, the calm moment is ruined as gunshots ring though the academy. 

Melanie shoots up from the bed, hiding the book under the pillow and running to the door, swinging it open and seeing someone in a pink mask shooting down the hallway. 

Glancing to see their target, she sees Diego fighting off another person, both of them dressed in suits with ridiculous masks. 

Melanie sneaks up behind the shooter, kicking out the back of their knees and slamming them down into the floor before running to do the same to the person  attacking Diego. 

“Run!” Melanie yells, Diego grabbing her hand and pulling her with him as they bolt down the hallway towards the living room. 

“Split!” He instructs her, Melanie running around the upper level and through the door back into the foyer while Diego throws himself over the banister. 

Melanie struggles to control her breathing, fear and adrenaline running through her veins at a lightning speed as she ducks down to not be seen by the attackers, who walk down the stairs and into the living room. 

The sound of gunfire fills the air again, only stopping as Luther finally makes it down the stairs and into the room behind them. 

Melanie bolts back in, using her powers to slow her descent as she follows Diego’s lead and throws herself over the banister, just in time to help him take down the person holding Allison up by her throat as they try to choke her, but do so unsuccessfully as Diego latches onto their back and Melanie bites their hand to get them to release their grip. 

Luther picks up the attacker as they drop Allison, who steps backwards gasping for breath. 

“Who the hell are these guys?!” Allison asked, panicked as they all were at this point. 

The siblings start bickering but are soon silenced by the sound of a gun cocking behind them, all four running for cover as the shot is fired. 

Melanie runs to the end of the room, hiding behind the bar as she peeks out to see Diego crawling past the fireplace. 

As the gunfire stops, she holds her hand over her mouth, trying to silence the sound of her ragged breathing as she hears heavy footsteps get closer and closer. 

But her heart drops as she hears Vanya coming towards the room, her voice soft compared to the violent sound of gunfire that rang out only seconds ago. 

“Hello?” She calls as she walks in, the sound of a mace swinging pulling Melanie from her cover just in time to see the larger of the two attackers swinging at Vanya. 

“Hey asshole.” Luther calls, catching the person’s attention and pulling them away from the living room as Melanie sneaks behind them to pick up Vanya, who jolts away from her touch. 

“Leave me-” She protests, before Melanie hushes her. 

“Hey hey hey, it’s me. Hold on.” She reassures, picking Vanya up bridal style and silently running to the bar, putting her in her previous hiding spot. 

“Stay here, stay low. If you see a gap run into the courtyard and hide behind the gazebo. I’ll come find you.” She speaks quickly and quietly, only moving when Vanya nods at the plan. 

Melanie then runs out of the room, following the sound of gunfire downstairs into the basement, hiding around the corner as silence fills the space. 

Before she can take a look around the corner, the sound of fighting flares up again, Diego nearly giving her a heart attack as he offers her a hand up before walking into the basement. 

“You gonna rumor this psycho?” He asks Allison, who braces herself against the pool table while the attacker stands with a broken pool cue in their hands further down the room. 

“I don’t have to,” Allison replies with a tight anger in her voice, “this bitch just pissed me off." 

"We just want the boy.” The attacker says, speaking for the first time since the fight started. 

“Oh well in that case…” Allison replies sarcastically as she throws another hit at the person, Melanie looking up to Diego with confusion written on both of their faces. 

“They want Five?” She asks, Diego just shrugging in response as he jumps into action when Allison is sent falling into the table. 

Melanie runs around the outside of the dinner table, sending a flash of dark purple energy underneath and sending the attacker tripping towards Diego, who lands solid hits on them as they fight towards the entrance. 

Diego gets knocked backwards into the room, pushing himself off the foosball table and taking one of the metal rods with him. 

“Are you okay?” Melanie asks, checking on Allison who waves her off with a small nod, pulling herself up on the small table before noticing a knife sticking out of it. 

Sparing a small glance to Melanie, she communicates silently to her as her eyes move from the knife to Diego, Melanie helping her up as the pool cues get knocked out of the attackers hands and out into the room. 

“Get her.” Allison states simply, holding the knife out to Diego who throws it without a second thought, a groan of pain coming from the attacker as they run upstairs. 

“Come on.” He instructs, both women following him out of the basement. 

The first thing the trio see as they get back upstairs is Luther laying on the ground, Allison calling out for him as all three run to help him up as the attacker from the basement walks around the upper level, looking down at them before shoving the knife previously in their leg into the support for the chandelier. 

The old metal gives way easily, Luther throwing Allison out of the way while Melanie grabs Diego and pulls him towards the stairs, the force of which sending them both to the ground. 

The chandelier falls on top of Luther, and the siblings fall quiet as fear strikes each of them when he doesn’t move. 

It takes him a moment, but eventually, Luther starts to stand up, the broken metal ripping his coat from his body. 

“Holy shit…” Diego breathes quietly, as Melanie looks down to the floor after seeing the uncomfortable look on Luther’s face. 

The next thing she knows, Luther is pushing past both her and Diego, bolting up the stairs as Allison watches him leave, slack jawed in awe at how much he’d changed. 

“Did you know?” Vanya asks quietly, to which she shakes her head. 

“No." 

"Shit,” Diego says, looking upstairs, “Mom." 

Before she can say anything, he’s running off, and Melanie’s attention is caught by the blood running down Vanya’s head. 

"I think they’re gone.” She comments, not hearing anything else through the house. 

Both Vanya and Allison watched with caution as Melanie looked around the house, bullet holes filling the walls they’d know nearly all their lives. 

“Oh.” She comments quietly, her voice breaking as the realisation they were attacked in the one place they’d always been safe from the outside world, tears gathering in her eyes as she walked upstairs away from her sisters. 

Melanie breathes heavily as she walks down the hallway, the anxiety of the situation quickly taking over as the adrenaline faded, making her hands shake as she checked over Ben’s room, relieved to see it as she left it when she ran out. 

Carefully grabbing the book from under the pillow, she places the pillow back down in its usual place, shutting the door behind her and holding the book to her chest as her eyes followed the bullet holes down the hallway. 

As she walks back into the foyer, both Allison and Vanya still stand where they did when she walked away, still watching her carefully as she descended the stairs, tears silently running down her cheeks. 

“Melanie…” Allison tries to speak, but is cut off before she can. 

“This is why I didn’t want to come back here.” Melanie says, hurt in her voice as she looked between her sisters, before walking towards the door. 

“Mel, wait!” Allison calls, following after her. 

“Don’t.” She replies, hand holding her book pointing in Allison’s face. “Don’t even try." 

Tears of fury burned in Melanie’s eyes as she looks into her sisters eyes, anger in spades as well as pain as it radiated through her body. 

"We all gave our lives for this hellhole, and, and even when we think it’s safe, cause Dad’s finally dead, this, this shit happens!” She yells. “I don’t know what they want with Five, but I’m done being in danger just from existing." 

Melanie turns, holding the book to her chest again before sending the door slamming into the wall beside it as it opens, and slamming again as she closes it behind her.��

chapter five coming saturday, sep 26th

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfic #tua fanfic #tua imagine #umbrella academy imagine #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves fanfic #ben hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #Diego hargreeves #five hargreeves

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before XV

Chapter: 15/15

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo was quickly getting accustomed to the routine of waking up beside George, it was definitely a pleasant sight to open his eyes to first thing in the morning. Although it was rather strange being in someone else's bed, he couldn't deny that George's flat had a real warmth and cosiness to it. He thought back on the previous night fondly, scolding himself for ever being so concerned that it would've been anything less than perfect. Unfortunately it wasn't long before George was waking up too, meaning it was only a matter of time before they would have to break out of this peaceful serenity, the thought of returning to his flat alone again was already upsetting Ringo.

"Morning." George grumbled, evidently feeling very groggy.

"Morning." Ringo repeated, an instinctive smile forming on his lips.

George let out a groan as he stretched his body out, it didn't take Ringo long to learn that every morning was a struggle for George to get out of bed at a decent time. As George twisted and turned, Ringo noticed the marks on his wrists that had been left from the restraints, without much thought he caught one of George's arms and rubbed his thumb against the aggravated skin.

"It doesn't hurt does it?" Ringo asked, concerned.

George didn't realise what he was referencing at first, once he caught on he let out a casual laugh "Not at all. Even if it did, it'd be worth it."

Ringo held onto George for longer than necessary, eventually giving into his instincts completely and pulling him closer for a gentle kiss. The longer Ringo could drag out their time in bed together, the better. George was more than happy to oblige, lifting his leg to overlap with Ringo's hip so that they were pressed together even closer. Ringo slipped his hand under George's shirt, just to feel the warmth of his skin against his fingertips. George pulled away first, though didn't move too far as their noses were almost touching.

"I didn't take it too far did I? I was worried I'd be kinda throwing you in at the deep end." George rested his hand against his face.

"Not at all." Ringo chuckled softly "Don't get me wrong, I wasn't expecting it at all, so I was definitely shocked. But I was surprised how into the whole thing I was."

George hummed satisfied "You surprised me too. At least I know I can maybe turn it up a notch or two next time."

"There's more?" Ringo scoffed "Jesus, George... I'm really starting to think someone's paying you to torture me."

George paused, a knowing look on his face "I'm not gonna make the obvious joke here, as much as I want to."

"You don't have any plans today, do you?" Ringo asked cautiously, unable to look George in the eye so instead focused on his collarbones, trailing his finger along them.

"None at all, why?" George responded in kind.

"Well, not to run the risk of overstaying my welcome, it'd be nice to just chill together." Ringo spoke quietly "If you want to, of course."

"Of course I want to." George smiled, washing away any fear Ringo had "No sex, though... I need at least a day to recover from all that."

"You and me both." Ringo chuckled.

George reluctantly rolled out of bed, making his way over to the wardrobe to find something decent to wear. Ringo enjoyed the view, George peeling off his shirt so that he was stood there only in his boxers. Colours and patterns popped out from inside the wardrobe, Ringo couldn't help feeling rather bland in comparison as he watched George pull out a variety of options, each item of clothing more impressive than the last. Looking around George's room, it was clear that his unique perspective extended far beyond merely what he wore: the furniture was covered in imagery, whether it was from a multitude of stickers, crude drawings or more artful painting. Everything just screamed George, no corner of the room seemed to have been neglected. Ringo supposed he could get used to being in an environment like this.

"Planning on getting out of bed today?" George asked with an eyebrow raised, having thrown on some patterned trousers.

"If you give me a reason to, sure." Ringo responded playfully.

"Well I'm not about to serve you breakfast in bed, I'm not your maid." George took a few steps closer to the bed, hands on his slim hips.

"Shame, you'd make such a pretty one." Ringo pouted.

Despite his jokes, Ringo did manage to pull himself out of the comfort and warmth. He fished for his clothes in the living room, finding them dotted around the floor, before returning to dress himself. George already looked ready for the day, his hair brushed out and a black crop top thrown on to cover his chest but leave his stomach exposed.

"Have you always dressed like that?" Ringo asked, slipping back into his trousers.

"Like what?" George knitted his eyebrows together quizzically, clearly wanting to hear Ringo's description of his dress sense.

"Just very- Expressive." Ringo treaded carefully, George laughed at his caution.

"Not always." George finally answered "I just think fashion should be fun, you know? Everyone's so serious about everything..."

"Couldn't agree more." Ringo smiled.

George led the way into the kitchen, which was filled with even more houseplants than the living room. There were a few music posters taped to the wall: Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Roy Orbison to name a few, it reminded Ringo of his teenage bedroom.

"Your place is incredible." Ringo said, a little taken aback, as he slid to sit at the small table.

"Thanks." George replied with his head in the fridge "I want to move soon, though."

"Really? I can't image why." Ringo continued noticing small details in the room: the novelty salt and pepper shakers, the aged recipe books piled on the counter.

George began starting work on breakfast "Well, I do love it here but I really want a place with a garden. I'm starting to run out of space for these guys." He gestured broadly to the plants.

"Yeah... I've never met anyone with so many before." Ringo chuckled.

"Safe to say I'm a little obsessed." George focused on the food, but the warmth never left his voice "I work at the garden centre, actually. If you were curious."

"Oh, that must be nice." Ringo admired George from where he was sat "I don't think I've ever been, actually."

"What?" George almost shouted "We have to go!"

Ringo laughed, a little caught off guard "Is it really that good? I thought it was just a bunch of old people."

"Well, that's not untrue." George began cracking eggs into a pan "It's not really that special, I just like it there. I get a discount too so if you wanna get any plants, which you should want to, I can sort it for you."

"Why do I feel like you're threatening me?" Ringo chuckled.

"Maybe I am, just a little." George snickered.

They continued talking and joking over their breakfast, luckily for Ringo no under-the-table action occurred this time. Not soon after they were relaxing on the sofa, flicking through the variety of terrible daytime television on offer. They settled on a show about home renovation, always commenting on whether the end result was even an improvement at all, as though they were both experts in the field.

After George got up to put the kettle on, he decided to invade Ringo's space on the sofa by cuddling up into his front. Ringo couldn't deny that there wasn't really enough space for this kind of intimacy, but he allowed it all the same, running his hand over to George's stomach to keep him in place.

The hours soon passed by, neither of them wanting to acknowledge how late it was becoming. Ringo wished he could've stayed here forever, but he knew that was taking things a little too far. As the daylight began to fade, he had to face the fact that he had work in the morning and couldn't really afford to spend another night with George. He decided he should at least have a shower, just to prolong the amount of time he could spend here. When he re-emerged, George was spread out on the bed with a book in his hand.

"So... I should probably get going." Ringo announced, drying off his hair roughly with a towel.

George set his book down and frowned "Suppose you can't stay here forever."

"No, unfortunately not." Ringo sighed, both of them looking at one another but saying nothing further.

The moment dragged on for a little while longer, neither saying anything but it was fairly clear what they were both thinking.

"Before I go, though, I wanted to ask you..." Ringo began, doubting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"What?" George asked expectantly, sitting upright on the bed.

"I don't want to rush into anything, but- I just wondered what you thought about maybe, only if you want to, maybe making things a little more... exclusive?" Ringo cursed his ineloquence.

George laughed and for a second Ringo worried he'd misread everything entirely, until George spoke "Ringo, if you're gonna ask me out you're gonna have to do it properly."

Ringo paused then tried once more "George, do you wanna be my-"

"Yes." George cut him off with a grin.

"Great." Ringo exhaled with a nervous laugh.

George slid off the bed, approaching Ringo with a familiar look in his eyes "You're not about to leave your boyfriend without a kiss goodbye, are you?"

"Of course not." Ringo whispered as George moved in closer, locking their lips together.

Ringo had to use every ounce of restraint in his body to pull away from George, or else they'd no doubt be repeating the scenes of last night before long. It nearly broke his heart to leave George like this, knowing that both of them would do just about anything to spend more time together, but he could leave satisfied with the knowledge that this was only the beginning of what was hopefully a long relationship.

Things had already been fairly eventful, and it hadn't even been a month that the two of them had known each other. Whatever else was in store, Ringo unabashedly looked forward to it, for the knowledge that George was now his own, made him feel like everything was going to be perfect from here on out.

#the beatles #Beatles #beatles fanfiction #beatles fanfic #George Harrison/Ringo Starr #george harrisonxringo starr #george harrisonxreader #ringo starr/george harrison #starrison

[chanel-blossom]

Chapter 1 (Act 1, Ayato)

(TW: Violence and mentioned alcohol)

A child’s face is a drowned face: 

Her parents stare down at her asleep 

Estranged from her by a sea: 

She is under the sea 

And they are above the sea: 

If she looked up she would see them 

As if locked out of their own home, 

Their mouths open, 

Their foreheads furrowed – 

Pursed-up orifices of fearful fish – 

Their big ears are fins behind glass, 

And in her sleep she is calling out to them 

 Father, Father 

 Mother, Mother 

But they cannot hear her: 

She is inside the sea 

And they are outside the sea. 

Through the night, stranded, they stare 

At the drowned, drowned face of their child. 

- Paul Durcan

Icy blue eyes re-read the poem, the one they have read many times, to the point all the words are known off by heart. The young girl added another note to all the other notes she had about this poem, it was her favorite by far. No matter how many times she read it, she always discovered another angle to the poem. It truly was a work of art with so many meanings to it. 

Putting the printout and the notes she had away safely, she opened the door to her room. “No entry if the door is closed” was her only rule. She had only lived in the mansion for a week, but the brothers didn’t like the door rule, so she was pleasantly surprised that they were respecting it. 

Speaking of the devil, one of the boys was outside of her room, a handsome redhead with mesmerizing green eyes, Ayato. The white haired girl stepped aside allowing the redhead to enter. He walked into the room with confidence and went straight for her bed. “What’s with all the plants?” His eyes scanned the room, it was simple enough, but the young girl had a very peculiar way of decorating it, she had one shelf in the room, it had a few books on it, separated by plants and some plants on top of other books. Most of her book collection was on the ground however, books were placed near tall plants that couldn't go on shelfs, they reached to knee-length heights. Some stacks were taller than others with small plants on top. Chanel had a balcony attached to her room. The bed he was on was a king size decorated white, with many pillows and blankets, making the bed very soft and almost nest like. There was a desk in her room, it was very simple, nothing on it but a few stationary items. She had a wardrobe, but it was far too small for all the clothes she had, she ended up putting most of her clothes in the empty room next to her. All her furniture was white, the floors matched the rest of the house, with the exception of a soft white rug. The walls were white, It was the brightest room in the house, despite it being night time. Chanel had her own bathroom attached to the room, It wasn’t decorated at all, except for the counter which was littered with beauty products. In summary, the room was an organized chaos. Chanel rolled her eyes at the comment and sat at her study desk, brushing her hair.

“Hey answer me, you’ve been here for a week and I haven’t heard you say a single word, you mute or something?” She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, as if he was the dumbest person in the world, she made it pretty clear she was mute on the night she arrived, guess he had selective hearing. hesitantly she nodded her head, she wasn’t sure if he was joking and wanting to tease her or if he genuinely didn’t know.

Her question was answered when his eyes widened, in disbelief, it lasted for a split second before he burst into laughter. While he was doing that, The white haired teen passed him a simple, white hardback notebook. He took it, occasionally chuckling and looked through the many pages of one sided conversations written in very neat and eligible handwriting. “Holy fuck, you actually are! Right, how does it work? Like can you moan and shit?? What about when you’re in pain? Can you scream?” He sat up, it looked like he was genuinely curious, she found it quite endearing, sticking out her hand to ask for the notebook back.

“To put it simply, I can make noises, I just can’t form words. Now that doesn’t mean I will make noise, I’m not a moaner or a screamer, usually.” Was what Ayato read when the notebook was passed back to him. A smirk fell on his lips after reading the words. “That sounds like a challenge to me, don’t worry, Ore-sama will have you screaming my name in no time.” She lightly smiled at him as he lied back down on the bed. 

Chanel walks over to him in an attempt to get the copy from him. Instead, he grabs her wrist and pulls her into the bed with a smirk. “Who said you’re allowed to talk?” He teased her. He was looking down at her, his emerald eyes taking in her appearance, it was very perfect and polished, too perfect, of course she had flaws if you look close enough, but it was obvious to him that she tries very hard to make sure everything is prefect. Chanel on the other hand was very surprised when she felt his hand around her wrist, it was ice cold, and not a cold after you've been handling ice sort of thing, but like a cold that doesn’t seem to warm up against her warm skin. She just gets up and makes her way to her bathroom, leaving a rather confused Ayato. “Hey! Where do you think your going? Ore-sama didn’t give you permission to leave.” He swiftly got up once again to see the girl grin, sign something to him and close the bathroom door.

In the bathroom, the smile her red lips bared quickly vanishes and was replaced by a rather bitchy frown. The white haired female made her way to her vanity and tied her hair in a low ponytail. She gripped the counter with an iron grip and looked at her face in the mirror, she was fuming. She needed to relax, but this guy had a way of getting under her skin, he was extremely cocky and confident, Chanel hated it. When her father presented the offer to her, she of course jumped at the opportunity to live with 6 hot boys, but she didn’t think it would be like this! The ivory haired girl needed a drink.

Chanel had been looking for a good private school to attend, she hadn’t found one to her liking, that was until her fathers old friend talked about a school his sons attended. Chanel’s father, Silver, had a partner back when he was starting off in law. They were good friends and carried out their friendship for many years. One day, they met up for coffee where Silver talked about his daughters struggles to find a school she likes. There, the friend talked about the school his sons attended and even offered to allow her to live in their mansion that is rather close to the school. Silver wasn’t too keen on his 17 year old daughter living with 6 teenage boys, but after seeing the school, Chanel was in love with it. They met the brothers and a young girl named Yui. Chanel was very exited about the preposition and eventually convinced her parents to let her stay there. 

Turns out that the god-like brothers all had shit personalities, of course there would be a catch. Most of them were paying attention to Yui and when they did talk to her, it was mostly insults or rude comments. So far, this had been the only conversation she had that has been a positive one. 

Once Chanel calmed down, she left the bathroom to find her room empty. Taking a quick shot of hidden liquor, she decided to find the kitchen and make herself a snack. Hiding the spirit bottle under her mattress, she grabbed her notebook and pen, making her way into the hallways. 

The mansion was huge, too big for its own good, full of many twists and turns, after living there for a week, Chanel still had no idea where to go. She’d usually asked one of the workers for help, but lately everyone, including them have ignored her, usually workers were pretty easy to spot, but now they haven't been seen around the halls, she was hoping to run into one of the assholes, that would hopefully point the way out to her.

Speaking of assholes, a purple one has been spotted, walking in the hall, clutching his teddy bear and searing off into space. Hearing her approach, he snaps his head her way, making the female tense. It was just her luck to run into the one who made her most uncomfortable, something about him was off, not that she was one to judge. Most of the brothers were rude to here, but he was the only one who she attempted to avoid, on her first night, she saw Kanato spilling hot coffee on Yui, and he tripped Chanel a couple of times, giving her carpet burn.

Cautiously, she approached him, opening her notebook on a pre-written page that simply said “Kitchen?” Kanato read the words, hugging teddy tighter to himself, clearly debating if he should help her or not. “What will I get in return?” He inquired, staring into the girls eyes. They held eye-contact for a couple of seconds, Chanel being the one to break it, in order to write in her notebook “What would you like?” He gave her a sinister smile “a cake, I’d like for you to bake me a cake!” When Chanel nodded, in agreement, the purple haired boy showed her the way to the kitchen. She hesitantly followed him through the mansion, doing her best to commit it to memory, which she previously failed to do.

Arriving at the kitchen, Kanato took a seat, and kept his eyes fixed on the white haired female. From washing her hands, turning on the oven, to measuring out the ingredients and mixing them, he watched it all, Chanel was convinced he didn’t blink. He was watching her like a predator would watch it's pray, carefully and with malicious intent. Waiting for any mistakes, waiting for any operunity to strike and lash out. The ding for the oven finally went off, making the girl jump in surprise, signaling it to be preheated, Kanato got up with her to see what’s going on, opening the oven Chanel stuck her hand in it to see if it’s a good temperature. Kanato was watching her very carefully, her heart was racing. In a split second, Kanato took the opportunity to press the girls hand to the bottom of the oven. 

Chanel ripped her hand away and ran straight to the sink, putting her hand under cold water. She was breathing heavily and her face was contorted in pain. There was something off about Kanato, and the way he looked at her should have been a red flag, but she chose to ignore it, already, she was regretting her decisions. Meanwhile, Kanato was furious, she gave barely any reaction to that, no scream, no tears. Watching her act like nothing happened frustrated him even more. Tears welled up in his eyes as he started screeching at the top of his lungs. He grabbed her by her ponytail and ripped her away from the water, letting out more screams and kicking her. She was used to being harmed, but not like this, she felt her hair rip from her scalp, and every single kick was aimed at a bone to make it even more painful.

Luck seemed to be on Chanel’s side this time, Ayato was nearby and heard the commotion, he was able to pry Kanato away from the girl in an instant. As soon as her hair was free she ran for her life, but not outside back further into the house. Ayato's actions made Kanato even more frustrated “LET ME GO!! How dare you take away our fun?!” Kanato was full on crying now. “Yeah, well I can’t enjoy my takoyaki with you screeching, what the fuck did she do anyways?” At this point Chanel was long gone from the kitchen. She couldn’t find her room in her haste and just sat in a random corner, assessing her condition. What had she agreed to do when she decided to stay in the Sakamaki household?

“You’re telling me this whole thing is because she wouldn’t give you a vocal reaction? You do realize she’s mute, she can’t scream, even if she wanted to.” Ayato let out a “tch” as he rolled his eyes and left his brother in the kitchen after the mini lecture.

One of the servants found Chanel, helped her back to her room and treated her wounds, she came prepared with a first aid kit, as if she knew what was going on. Luckily for Chanel, the oven wasn’t hot enough to cause permanent damage. After thanking the lady, Chanel closed her door and got ready for bed. She didn’t know how to feel, she knows what she should be feeling, but a part of her enjoyed it, and that’s what made her feel all the worse. It confused her to her no end, until she eventually fell asleep with all these thoughts running through her head.

#Diabolik Lovers #ayato #ayato sakamaki #kanato #kanato sakamaki #Act 1 #chapter 1 #Chanel's story #violence #alcohol mentioned #strong language

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Mourning ~ 8

I’d hardly had a moment to settle into my new home when my first gift arrived. Crying myself to sleep hadn’t worked, not that I’d expected it to, so I was in the small garden - staring up at the night sky when I felt it - a shift like a whisper. Turning around, there it was - a small casket, but I could feel her magic around it - Frigga’s magic.

Tempted to ignore it, or better yet to destroy it, I took a deep breath and reconsidered. Perhaps this was a peace offering. Frigga had been like a mother to me for far longer than she’d been an enemy - so I crouched in the soft grass and reached out, smiling despite myself at the warmth coming off the wood. So like her, as if she was in the garden with me, waiting with her arms open.

Inside, when I opened it, were my dearest belongings - books, jewels, nightgowns - along with enough Midgardian currency to be comfortable for, well I’d have to do some research on how long I could make do with it - and tucked underneath it all was another letter.

 Sigyn ~

I know that what I’ve done is unforgivable. Taking away a part of you that is ingrained in your very fiber to keep a peace within my OWN marriage isn’t something I took lightly, not when I know that it will keep you separated from YOUR love.

When I told you that Loki was many things, but never malicious, I wasn’t lying - I still don’t think I am. Being led astray can happen so easily, especially after not being given the truth - and I did tell you how admirable your honesty was and still is - how your husband’s family should revere you for it. Instead you’ve been punished harshly and by me.

As I’ve said, I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’m sending along your things, not all of them at once, since the Bifrost is still inoperable. It took immense power to send YOU, much less these items - but I will try to send more, as time and magic allows. I do hope that you find solace, if not peace where you are - no matter how inconstant that may sound.

He’s home, a prisoner for his crimes, but he IS home. And I’m only allowed to visit him through illusions. Home, safe, alive, caged - and grieving the loss of you.

Frigga

 I didn’t understand. Most of her words made sense - she was trying to make amends, while admitting that she chose the lesser of evils - my banishment and the removal of any possibility of Loki finding me, should he somehow escape his imprisonment for whatever crimes he committed, but the last part confused me.

Loki grieved the loss of me. The husband I knew and loved would never simply give up on me because he was locked away. He wouldn’t have taken the news that I was banished - even if they refused to tell him where and that they’d removed the ease of his usual course of finding me - and feel defeated by it. To grieve me, to act as if - NO. The feeling of suffocation kept hitting me, and it seemed to always originate from Frigga’s hand.

The ONLY way I could think of for Loki, my husband, to GRIEVE my loss, to feel defeated by it, and to give up - was if they told him I was dead.

 I’d been in Midgard days, mere days, the casket having arrived the night of my arrival and I had unpacked it - put away my things, including the hair picks that Loki had given me and even gone out among my new neighbors to find food and drink, and also add to my wardrobe - magic was wonderful, but I wanted to see precisely what I was supposed to be wearing. I contemplated burning Frigga’s letters, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it - these parchments with the dark ink written in her hand, were the ONLY fragments I had left of her. And even after everything I’d gone through - she was my teacher and my mother.

I was in the cottage, one of my favorite books open and a cup of tea next to me where I’d curled up in the chair that I’d claimed as my most comfortable when a knock came to my door. Thinking of all the very kind and rather personable Midgardians that populated the small village I’d landed in, I marked my place and got up, checking the ornaments I’d added to the twist I’d put my hair in - Loki’s warnings about safety loud and clear now that I WAS living in Midgard.

Looking out the lacy curtain that covered the glass portion of the door, I saw a tall, dark man wearing leather and sporting an eyepatch that brought Odin to mind. My confusion grew, but then he flashed a smile and a golden badge. “Director Nicholas Fury, ma’am,” the door stayed closed as he spoke through it. “I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D.” I waited for him to give me further explanation. “That stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.” Blinking at him, his smile didn’t falter. “As an Asgardian who crash landed in the middle of nowhere-shire England, I think you should let me in.”

Asgardian - I sighed. He knew. Unlocking my door, I turned the knob and stepped back to allow him entry. There were others, I could see, ringing my little cottage - “Could you please, ask your -” I groaned when I noticed one of the men stomping through one of the bushes. “Please, don’t destroy the garden!”

Director Fury raised his eyebrow at my tone, but glanced outside and shook his head. “Guys, stand down!” He sounded bored. “I apologize, Miss?”

I glanced up at him, and then back to where his people were starting to retreat - I waited until I could assess the damage and once I was satisfied it wasn’t beyond repair, I returned to the topic at hand. “Miss what?”

He looked bemused. “Your name?” I sighed. “You dropped out of the sky in a flash, three days ago and - let’s just say that’s cause for concern.”

“Why?” I stared up at him. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” Aside from the compulsion to get the cottage, which I have paid for - once the casket came from Frigga and I COULD pay.

He studied me as if he couldn’t decide if I were lying or if I were ignorant. “We had a situation -” Pulling one of the tiny boxes that all my lovely neighbors had held when I first woke from his pocket, he pressed something and then turned it so I could watch -

So I could watch Loki, my Loki run amok - I watched, but I couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t - he would never - Loki wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t hateful or - Seeing him remove a man’s eye, watching him force a crowd to kneel, witnessing the destruction and ruin - I realized he COULD and he DID.

“You didn’t know?” I couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t I - “WHOA,” Director Fury caught me, and then I was sitting in the chair, he was kneeling before me. “You are VERY pale -”

“I -” gasping wasn’t helping. Why was the air too thick? “He -”

“You know him?” I shook my head, no, I didn’t know HIM. Not that Loki. “Are you -”

“Oy, who’re you?” That voice, why was it so familiar? “What’re yer doin’ in ‘ere?”

“Now wait a minute,” Fury was on his feet, but I couldn’t focus, not when the images were flickering through my mind - against the Loki I knew - the soft one who held me and played in the bath with me. “How did you get past my -”

“Dos wankers?” The voice snorted. “Told ‘em what I’ll tell you, she’s my granddaughter, and ye’ll do well ter go.”

“I think you and I both know -” I shook it off, the pain and the confusion - I needed to get him out and away - NOW.

“He’s right,” I nodded, looking up to see that it was my rescuer. The elderly man, kind and smiling. “Director Fury?” He glared down at me, but I had his attention, which is what I needed. “My name is Margaret Elizabeth Johns -”

“After my sainted mother,” the kindly man added, his grin growing. “HER lovely mum, and sadly her married name - she’s a widow.”

“Yes,” I sighed, infusing my voice with all the will and sincerity that I had that first day. “I’m a widow. My husband, Lucas Johns, died in a terrible accident. My grandfather -”

“Michael Griffiths,” my eyes widened, along with his smile. “I asked my girl to come closer to home.”

“He did, and somehow you got incorrect information,” standing up, I touched Director Fury’s hand. “I’m incredibly sorry that you came ALL this way for nothing.”

“For nothing,” he agreed, his eye slightly unfocused.

 He left soon after, a few more nuggets and as Director I knew it would grow with my touch to the others. That left just Michael and I - but I was more than willing to have a sit down with him.

“Griffiths,” I bit my lip. “Your eyes do look familiar now that I think back.” Like Elizabeth’s, observant and eagle sharp.

“You’ve been a story passed down for so many years,” I almost called him out about his less than local accent, but I had a feeling that we all had our own secrets. “In my family, I mean.”

I got him a cup of tea and he told me how not everyone in his family had thought it true, the tale of the newlyweds who had been found at the end of a flash of light - who told a tale of woe so dramatic and traumatic that it would have done well as an offering in a penny dreadful - but were also so in love that who could find fault with them?

“I’m guessing that Elizabeth started the tale?” We were sitting in my sitting room and he nodded. “I knew she was too observant.”

“She thought you did,” his grin was still wide. “Margaret was easier to fool, but Elizabeth - well some of the family can’t be fooled.”

“Like you?” Head tilted, I was smiling with the knowledge that he hadn’t been affected by my little trick when I came to. “I can’t be angry, you just rescued me again.”

“Twats,” he bit out, and I snorted - thankful I wasn’t about to take a sip of tea. “Those S.H.I.E.L.D. types,” he shook his head. “Showing up here to try to equate you with HIM.”

It hurt, to hear even Michael consider Loki in that light, but I understood - somewhat. “Yes, imagine that.”

#loki x sigyn #loki #loki series #sigyn #alternate universe #angst #bear with me

[sanders-sides-fics]

In My Dreams: Chapter One

Warnings: past death mentions, dead parents, past violence, Deceit Sanders

Masterlist

Word Count: 1881

Author’s note: Hello! This is the first chapter for my 2020 submission to the ts-storytime big bang! I’m going to be reblogging this post with the link to AO3 shortly. Enjoy!

@007ardra, here’s chapter one!

-

Virgil didn’t know what to expect as they approached the castle. In his mind, he had pictured ruins from the day the Dragon Witch attacked their family. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting that. Logan would have repaired it while he was Regent. It wasn’t exactly something Logan could wait to do until Remy was crowned.

He stared at the window of the carriage at his forgotten childhood home, watching it grow closer and closer. The castle stood proud, whole and without a trace of the disastrous day that stole Virgil and his fathers away from Remy. 

The Picais Castle was different from the castle he grew up in. It was tall with multiple towers shooting up like sprouts out of the ground whereas King Thomas’ castle was broader with less levels, focusing on the expansion of existing floors. 

“Like it?” Remy asked quietly.

Virgil nodded.

Remy smiled, “I sent word ahead of us, so your room should be ready.”

The carriage passed through the castle’s gates and Virgil shifted in his seat. He was finally arriving at the home he lost. Behind the carriage, the castle gates clanged shut and Virgil glanced back. 

“The gates are a security measure I added while Regent,” Logan explained. “With only Remington left of the royal family, I did not see it wise to take chances with his safety.”

“So you do care about me,” Remy teased.

Logan sighed at the young king’s antics. The carriage stopped outside the carriage and Logan opened the door. Virgil watched curiously as the older man surveyed the area. There were some servants and knights in the courtyard, waiting to welcome the royals home, but other than that, Virgil couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Logan must have agreed because he turned and held out his hand to Remy to help him down from the carriage.

Remy took his hand and stepped down from the carriage with practiced grace. Virgil craned his neck to see his brother smiling at their home. When Logan let go of Remy’s hand, he extended it again to offer it to Virgil. The adviser smiled reassuringly and waited for Virgil to be ready. 

Remy grinned as he looked back to Virgil as well, blue eyes bright with joy and anticipation. Virgil met his eyes and tried to smile back, knowing everyone waiting for them expected him to perfectly step into the prince role.

Virgil took Logan’s hand and stepped down carefully from the carriage, trying to ignore the sudden excited murmurs in the courtyard. 

“May I introduce my little brother, Prince Virgil of Picais,” Remy said proudly.

Virgil squirmed but tried to stand up tall as his brother spoke, hoping that it would be over sooner if he did that. He could feel the eyes on him, even as he focused on Remy.

“To celebrate his return to us, there will be a feast tomorrow,” Remy announced. “For my brother to meet the court and welcome him home.”

Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He wasn’t expecting to meet their court so soon, did he even have something nice enough to wear as an honored guest at a feast?

“You are all dismissed to go about your daily activities, thank you,” Remy finished.

Virgil approached his brother quietly, standing by his side as the servants and knights dismissed themselves. Remy smiled at him and took his hand.

“Are you sure I can do this?” Virgil asked. 

Remy nodded, “I think so. I had an outfit prepared for you … and something special waiting in my office.”

Virgil gave him a skeptical look, but Remy dragged him towards the castle instead of giving him an explanation. They entered the castle together and Virgil tried to take it all in before Remy dragged him further inside.

“Where’re we going?” Virgil asked.

“My office! It was Dad’s, we used to play in there all the time while he and Baba tried to work. We never let them get anything done!”

Virgil thought back to his childhood in Sandres and all the times he saw Roman escorted away from King Thomas’ office. Their fathers didn’t do the same it seemed…. He knew it got better when he arrived at the castle and befriended Roman as a child, but it didn’t entirely go away until Roman was nearly a teen.

“They let us do that?”

Remy stopped in front of the office doors, “Of course! They always made time for us. Ready?”

Virgil nodded and Remy opened the door. In the office, there were two dark oak desks. One empty and one neatly organized with papers and inks and quills.

“I saved Baba’s desk,” Remy says. “I wasn’t ready to part with it and decided it matched Dad’s, so I could save it for my own partner one day.”

Virgil looked around the office. Behind Remy’s desk there was a portrait that Virgil couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of. Remy noticed him looking and smiled.

“I didn’t have time after my coronation to have my portrait done before I left for the treaty with King Thomas. Dad had his portrait redone to add the family each time it grew. With Baba, me, and then you.”

In the portrait, King Emile sat on his throne with a young Remy in his lap, smiling as he looked forward. Beside him stood King Dorian holding a small purple bundle in his arms, Virgil could just see the tiny tufts of dark hair sticking out from the bundle.

“Dad loved this portrait. He refused to redo it when we got older. You were … I don’t actually know how old you are here. You were a baby,” Remy explained. “I think I was mad about you being there at first, so tiny and loud… I’m glad you’re here now.”

Virgil believed him. Remy didn’t need to prove he cared for Virgil to understand he did. Almost every action Remy has made since he arrived in Sandres proved how much he cared for his family. Virgil didn’t need to be convinced any further.

“I’m glad too,” he said finally.

Remy smiled and went over to his desk. Beside the pile of papers was a wooden box, which Remy picked up with care.

“I had this polished for you. It was Dad’s when he was Crown Prince.”

Remy set the box back down and opened it with care. He reached into the box and took out a crown. 

“It would mean a lot to me if you wore this, not all the time, I don’t even do that. But at least to events? And around the court?” Remy asks.

Virgil nodded, wide eyes on the crown, “Of course.”

“Can I… put it on your head here?” Remy asked with a strained voice. “I thought you’d want to be crowned privately. Just us.”

Virgil looked away from the crown and to Remy’s face. The King was blinking away tears while he waited for Virgil’s response.

“I’d like that too. Thank you, Remy.” 

Remy smiled and blinked away the last of his tears. He gestured for Virgil to come forward and Virgil stepped towards him and the desk.

“Virgilius, son of King Emile and King Dorian, brother to King Remington. Do you accept this crown and the burdens that come with it?”

“I do?” Virgil replied, unsure of what he should be saying.

Remy gave him a small nod, “Now, kneel so that I may place the crown onto your head.”

Virgil knelt before his brother and tilted his head down to allow Remy to reach. He felt the metal crown gently press down onto the top of his head and looked up when the movement stopped. Remy offered his hand and helped Virgil to his feet. The King smiled softly at him.

“It suits you,” Remy said quietly. “Our Dads would be very proud to see you here.”

“They would?” Virgil asked.

Part of him wondered what the two would think of him now and how he’d changed. He was no longer the little boy they raised. His magic…. He hadn’t used it since the fight with the Dragon Witch. He wasn’t denying who he was, but he didn’t know what to do with it and lacked guidance on how to use it properly. He got lucky he saw King Thomas and was able to push the Dragon Witch towards him. 

However now that he was in Picais, he could search for answers. King Dorian had to have something that survived the Dragon Witch’s first attack. Something that could tell him what to do with his new abilities.

“They would,” Remy confirmed. “Do you want help finding your room? I haven’t seen it yet either and I want to make sure it’s good enough for my brother.”

“I’m sure they did fine,” Virgil told him.

Remy raised an eyebrow, “They’d better have. You deserve the best welcoming home.��

Remy picked up the box for the crown and led Virgil out of the office. They walked down the halls keeping a brisk pace, Remy eager to examine the room to ensure it was to Virgil’s liking. Virgil didn’t think he’d hate what he would find. After growing up in the servants’ quarters, the guest room in King Thomas’ castle was good enough and that was without anything that made the room feel like a home. The room here would eventually fill with those items and be meant for a Prince. If anything, Virgil would think it was too big. 

As they walked, Remy pointed out different rooms in the castle; guest suites, the library, corridors, and finally, Remy’s room and his own. The door to his room was dark wood with a bronze handle.  Remy opened the door and poked his head in first.

“So it’s not a mess. I doubted it would be, but I wasn’t here to oversee it. Want to step in?”

Virgil nodded and stepped around Remy to see his room. His eyes widened at the size of the room. The bed was large and draped in purple blankets. The flooring underneath the bed was a grey carpet that matched the curtains on the windows. As he looked around, he noticed the large wardrobe in the corner and the matching dresser beside it. He wondered if Remy had it filled for him already.

“So purple. A good choice?” Remy asked.

Virgil smiled, “It was…. Was it always my favorite?”

Remy snorted back a laugh, “Virgil. Your purple baby blanket ripped, Baba bought you a blue one to replace it and you threw the biggest tantrum.”

Virgil blushed at that, “I didn’t.”

“You did. I was surprised it didn’t catch fire with how hard you were glaring at it.”

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, “I thought I didn’t show any signs of magic?”

“Not very many. Just the spiders, but you hated that blanket. Baba had to patch your old one.”

Virgil was glad he didn’t have that specific memory though…. As young as he was when it happened, he likely wouldn’t remember it regardless. He had the feeling Remy would tell him more stories as their time in the castle went on. 

“You should be getting to bed,” Remy told him. “I’ve got a party to plan. Good night, Vee.”

#ts-storytime 2020 submission #prinxiety #Virgil sanders #Roman Sanders #Sanders Sides #Fantasy au #Logan Sanders #Remy Sanders #In My Dreams #A Fanciful Dream

[nicetomeetniall]

Shared Clothes and Hurt Feelings

Summary:

Y/N’s friend group shares clothes all the time. When she has an important meeting, she knows just the sweater to wear. She had let a friend borrow it, who may have let Y/N’s ex boyfriend borrow it.

Warnings:

Language.

xoxo

The friend group of Y/N’s basically had a communal closet. Anytime someone needed an item to complete an outfit or something to wear for a date they could find it. There was no downside to it. The mix of luxury and common clothing was perfect for any occasion the friends may find themselves in. It was all great until Y/N needed her sweater back from a friend.

Y/N loaned her favorite sweater out to her friend, Freya, just weeks before she needed it back. She had a meeting at work that would probably set the tone for the rest of her career and she knew that the sweater would show just enough professionalism while allowing her to show some personality. 

On the phone call, Y/N first told Freya the news about the exciting work news before asking about the sweater. 

“I don’t have it. I actually let someone borrow it.” Freya said over the phone. 

“Oh, that’s fine.” Y/N dismissed. “I just need it back before Monday. Can you get it from them?”

“Shit, Y/N. You know I’m leaving town this evening. I don’t think I can.” Freya’s tone let Y/N know the woman on the other side of the call was nervous. “You can’t think of something else to wear?”

Y/N could find something else to wear but she didn’t want to. This was a big moment for her and although it might be silly, she loved that sweater and tried to wear it whenever there was something big happening.

“I really need it.” Y/N said. “You can just give me your friends number or whatever. I’ll get it from them. Who has it?”

There was silence on the line for a few seconds. “Harry has it.”

“My Harry?” Y/N asked, trying not to freak out before she got confirmation.

“Yes.”

Harry. He and Y/N had broken up only seven weeks ago. It was an ugly end to a nearly three year relationship. It was months of unresolved conflict and lack of communication that led to an explosive night. They had been so awful to each other in that two hour period inside their shared apartment that they weren’t sure they could ever look at the other person again. It was such a bad breakup that they both left the apartment and Harry’s sister was the one to pack up their belongings. 

They ran in the same social circle and Harry was the one to borrow and lend clothes the most. Still, that was Y/N’s favorite sweater and everyone knew it. He knew it. There’s no way he didn’t know it as soon as he took it from Freya’s hands when she passed it onto him.

Y/N would just have to choose another outfit. She had the weekend to find something. She could do it. 

Except she couldn’t. She hated herself for leaving half her wardrobe on the floor and breaking a sweat in an attempt to put something together. She’d worn that sweater when she got the job, when she adopted her cat, and when she was feeling the best about herself. She needed the damn sweater. 

Y/N texted Harry. She didn’t want to call him. She had went all these weeks without hearing his voice. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to do it so there was no point in regressing. 

It’s Y/N. Freya told me you have my sweater. I need it. Can we please figure out a way to get it to me? I need it before the weekend is up.

It was simple enough and straight to the point. 

I can bring it to you tonight. Send me your address.

She wished he would have someone drop it off for him, but of course not. That wasn’t Harry. He didn’t run from anything.

After texting him her address she rushed around the apartment. It was all a bit pathetic, really. She straightened the books on her bookshelf and messed with the curtains, making sure they were just right. She didn’t think he’d step foot past her doorway but a part of her wanted him to. 

Y/N missed Harry. He’s a person you only meet once in a lifetime. He’s as good and as genuine as anyone can be. Even though he made mistakes in their relationship, he was adamant on fixing them. Y/N didn’t even let him try so she regretted it. 

The knock on her door came too quickly. She opened it slowly, not sure if she was ready to be face to face with him.

“Hey.” Harry said, giving her a slight smile. “Hello.” She said, looking down at her sweater that he held in both of his hands, as if it was some sort of present. 

Harry pursed his lips to the side, a sign that he was trying to decide what to say. It was all awkward and uncomfortable. 

“I saw it at Freya’s the other day and I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry. I haven’t worn it.” He quickly said, extending his hands for her to take it from him. “It was stupid of me.”

“Well, thank you for returning it.” She took it from him carefully, being sure not to touch his hands. 

“Can I ask what the occasion is?” He asked, moving his eyes from hers to right behind her so he could catch a glimpse of her new apartment.

He never thought they would be in this situation. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were too good for this. 

Y/N saw his eyes travel and opened the door wider. “Yeah, come in.”

Harry was cautious. As much as he wanted to look around and see her space, he was afraid of seeing anything that might upset him. It would kill him to see any sign of another man. He followed her into the living room and sat down on the couch as she tossed her sweater over an armchair. 

“You know how I’ve been with the same company since I graduated. I’ve been working my way up the ladder.” Y/N began to explain as if Harry hadn’t been there every step of the way. He hated feeling like a stranger. 

“I know, Y/N. I was there for several promotions.” He said, watching as she sat on the other end of the couch. 

“Right…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “I just have a meeting about some app that’s being developed. I’m leading the marketing strategy and if it goes well, then I’ll be on the map for who knows what.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Harry nodded, getting a faint smile from her. 

They said nothing for a few minutes. Harry wasn’t sure if he should leave and Y/N didn’t really want him to.

“Well-” Harry started.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N blurted, immediately fighting the urge to cover her mouth with her hands. 

Harry looked over at her with the most understanding facial expression. He understood her outburst of apology. 

“I just shouldn’t have walked out so quickly. We didn’t give ourselves time.” She explained. 

“It was a long time coming.” Harry said which made her heart drop. “We weren’t the same for months. I was stupid, I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”

She nodded, it was all true. He had been so selfish before they ended. She still couldn’t put all the blame on him, though. She should’ve spoken up about it sooner. 

“I’ve missed you, though.” Y/N said, figuring that any response she might get couldn’t hurt more than anything else she had been feeling because of their separation.

“You don’t have to.” He said, making her raise her eyebrows. “I’ve missed you, too. I know it’s complicated and we have to do better, but I’ll try.” Maybe it was a stupid idea to try again. Maybe they didn’t care about the possibility of pain because any sort of love was worth it.

Masterlist

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