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notyourdayrdream · 3 years

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Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Twelve, Side A: Exacerbate

read it here on AO3!

Blaine Anderson’s never been lucky in love.

His first crush was in third grade on Jim Hawkins from Treasure Planet. Oh he’d almost burned the DVD out from watching it too much. His crush ended when his brother accidentally broke the disc and Blaine couldn’t watch the animated teen anymore. Plus, all of the other little boys were crushing on girls, ones that were real and not animated. Most importantly they were girls. So he put crushes on the backburner for a while.

His next crush was in seventh grade, on Joey Partmon. Joey was new from Texas, which may have well been a foreign country to him and the other private school kids Blaine went to school with. He was tanned under his school mandated uniform, with dark freckles and floppy red hair. Blaine loved his deep southern accent and the way he twirled his pencil around in his hand when he was bored. They weren’t close, Blaine wasn’t outgoing enough to say ‘hi,’ and Joey moved away that summer. But he did dream about kissing him on more than one occasion. That’s when he realized he was gay.

Freshman year’s candidate was Ryan Night.

He went to a public school then. He and Ryan were the only two boys in their choir, which already put a huge target on their backs, not to mention the fact they were both gay. Blaine still doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, but he was able to hide it. Ryan wasn’t as lucky. But it didn’t matter, they were friends, brought together by this horrible thing they had to deal with. The whole situation turned into something beautiful. So when Blaine asked Ryan to homecoming, he expected everything to go fine.

He’d be proved wrong, of course. So he took a break from crushing for a little while. In fact, he took a break on everything, for about a year.

Everything was different when he came to Dalton. The kids, the students, the zero tolerance bullying policy. It all kept him safe. So he joined the Warblers and became their leading man, not because he was gay or straight, but because he was good. They kind of idolized him, and he suddenly had this giant group of friends. That’s when he met Jeremiah.

Maybe it was because he was finally out and proud, but his crush on Jeremiah felt so different. It was almost like love. He was older and wiser than Blaine, and so so cute. And as the days ticked on and the boy was all he could think about, he decided he had to do something, and he had to do something big.

Safe to say that totally backfired. Blaine promised himself to never let a crush get that serious again, not until he was sure. And that plan had worked, until now. Because he met Kurt Hummel.

They actually met at NYADA, at a Midnight Madness competition.

Blaine had been dragged there by his friend Leslie, who wasn’t actually a singer but a dancer, she just liked drama. So he went, dressed in sweatpants and a Dalton hoodie, and sat in the back. The whole place was honestly just a giant fire hazard, and the heat from the candles was making him sweaty. They were waiting on someone apparently. Rachel Berry, the senior who had won last year. Blaine knew she had a reputation of being a diva, but good Lord she was taking forever. The crowd of theatre geeks was becoming antsy.

“Wait!” The door opened and shut in a swift motion, blowing out a few candles by the entrance. The young man’s chest heaved, like he had just run all this way. “Rachel’s out sick. But I’m here, I’ll do it in her place. The dim light blocked out most of his face, but Blaine could see the outline of him; slim and tall with a smile that lit up the room. Was it weird to be attracted to a shadow?

The moderator nodded. “That’s fine, Kurt, we just need someone to challenge you,” he said. Kurt stepped into the ring in the center of the room and took Blaine’s breath away.

It had to be illegal to look this good at twelve in the morning. Whereas everyone else was dressed in casual clothes and pajamas, Kurt wore tight jeans and a cream sweater so soft Blaine wanted to reach out and touch it. His pale skin was painted tan from the candlelight and his hair stood so high and perfectly coiffed on his head Blaine was sure it must have taken hours to fix.

“I’ll do it,” Blaine offered, cringing at himself when every pair of eyes turned to him. He could have smacked himself in the forehead. He didn’t come here to compete, he didn’t even come for the drama. He was going to horribly embarrass himself and be forced to switch careers. Slowly and on shaky legs, he made his way to the center of the room.

Kurt smirked and said, “You’re going down.” But his eyes were gleaming with mischief. Blaine almost smiled himself, but the moderator whispered that Kurt will go first and Blaine could sit back down. The song is announced, or whisper-yelled, to be “On My Own” from Les Mis.

The music started and Kurt took a moment to close his eyes, drinking in the silence before performing. And then he sings. He floated atop the song like a leaf across water, dipping in and swirling through the melody. He sounded like he might cry, and Blaine felt a tear threatening to slip out of his eye. That’s when he knew he wouldn't win. Emotional ballads had never been his thing. And when only fifteen people gathered on his side of the room and waved their hands in silent applause, he didn’t care.

“Hey, Blaine is it?” Kurt asked when Midnight Madness had ended and students poured out the doors and back home or to bars. Blaine’s eyes went wide. Leslie spotted his fear and left without him, blonde braids swishing behind her. He was going to kill here.

“Yeah,” he replied, breathily as he turned around and finally got a good look at Kurt’s eyes. Icy blue and gorgeous, Blaine felt stripped down under his gaze. “You were really amazing, I mean obviously since you won but…”

Kurt bit his lip to hide his smile, and Blaine guilty pocketed the moment for a later time. “Thanks, but you were great too. I couldn’t imagine being a freshman and being able to sing like that.”

“Ah, I’m actually in my third year,” Blaine said, rubbing at the back of his neck. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do too many extracurriculars at NYADA, not any he imagined Kurt would also be a part of.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Kurt apologized, face flushing pink. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted—”

“I should go,” Blaine interrupted, feeling more and more embarrassed as this whole ordeal went on. He honestly just wanted to go home and forget the whole thing even happened.

Kurt actually looked a bit upset for a brief second, but he caught himself quickly and went back to his bright smile. Props of being an actor. “Right, well, it was nice meeting you, Blaine.” He nodded and walked off and out of the glass double doors.

This time, Blaine did smack himself on the forehead. He was so stupid. Kurt was going to ask him out, wasn’t he? Or at least for coffee, everybody drinks coffee super late. He trudged out of the doors and down to the subway, trying his best to not think of himself as a total screw up when it came to love. But he did check Kurt’s Instagram on the ride home. Just to look.

“I’m going out! It’s my grandmother’s birthday and she misses me,” Leslie said even though Blaine already knew she was leaving. The red party dress he helped pick out popped against her dark skin.

He closed his journal and glanced at his roommate.“Tell her ‘happy birthday’ for me!” Leslie just kissed his cheek in response and shut the door behind her, leaving Blaine alone for another quiet evening.

It was finally summer, another year of college completed. Blaine had decided to stay in the city instead of going back home like a lot of students did. Not that he didn’t enjoy Ohio or his parents, he just didn’t feel like the cold small talk that would follow him the entire summer. The only thing he missed was the weather. It was a scorching summer this year in New York City, and Blaine had always preferred the cooler months. The whole city felt as though it had been placed in a boiling pot, and Blaine and Leslie spent most of their days inside at work or avoiding the heat. Their nights were spent partying on Leslie’s part, or curling up to watch a movie for Blaine.

If he were being honest with himself, he had no idea what he was going to do after college. Being a Broadway actor was no guarantee, if he would even make it there. He had heard of graduates from NYADA, bright eyed and filled with dreams, fizzle out like burning stars and end up in jobs that they didn’t even major in. Blaine couldn’t end up like that, he’d be proving his dad right.

So he had a moleskine journal filled with songs. The kind of music he sang in the shower. Poppy love ballads and short and brash breakup songs, even though he had never been broken up with before. The other people who had ever heard them were Leslie and Will, an ex-fling who he had mistakenly let get closer than he should have.

A set of sharp knocks at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You have keys, Les!” Blaine yelled but got up anyway. She probably forgot her keys. The knocking didn’t stop until Blaine swung the door open, gaping at the sight.

“Hi,” Kurt gasped, looking just as surprised as Blaine probably did. His hair was dripping wet, and he had...shower shoes on?

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked. “How do you know where I live?” He ushered Kurt inside.

“I don’t, and I am,” Kurt said, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Leslie leave and asked if she could help me and she said her roommate was home? I didn’t know you two lived together…” He glanced around their living room.

“Oh, we’re not dating, I’m gay.” Kurt’s eyebrows knitted together, that wasn’t what he was asking at all. What was it about this guy that turned Blaine into a complete idiot?

“Um, what did you need help with?”

“My shower isn’t working, and I have a date in an hour,” Kurt groaned. Blaine tried to make his heart stop freaking out at the mention of a date. They hadn’t spoken beyond Midnight Madness, save a nod in the hallways on the off chance they passed each other. “Can I use yours, please?” He pouted and poked his lip out, as if Blaine wouldn’t have said yes before.

He gulped. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He squeaked despite his best efforts and led Kurt to his bathroom. At least he didn’t have to worry about it being dirty. Leslie was a bit flighty, but they both shared their germaphobe tendencies.

“You just turn the water on like this.” Blaine twisted the knob left then right until it clicked to get the water to the hottest setting. When he turned back around, Kurt had already taken his shirt off. Blaine’s mouth went dry. When his biceps flexed when he moved to unbutton his pants, Blaine covered his eyes and shut the door as fast as he could, not wanting to further exacerbate the situation.

He was almost at his room, ready to bury his head into his pillow and just scream, when Kurt knocked on the bathroom door and said, “Stay?” So soft and barely loud enough over the rushing water that Blane just had to stay.

“I’m here,” he smiled and slid down the other side of the door until he was sitting. “What’s up with your date?” he asked, trying not to sound so bitter.

Water splashes the ground and Kurt yells through the door, “Oh, some guy kept asking me out, for like months. And I eventually just said yes.” Blaine heard a groan from inside the bathroom, and ignored the way all the blood rushed to his face. And other places.

“Do you even want to go out with him?” He didn’t mean to be nosey, truly. But the way Kurt described him, the guy kind of sounded like a dick.

It was a moment before Kurt responded. “I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, so…” There was a soft click and the water stopped pouring.

“I get that. I’ve actually never had a boyfriend before, so the only dates I’ve had are usually followed by a messy hookup,” Blaine said. He didn’t know what it was about the whole ordeal that made him want to spill all of his secrets out. His head eventually caught up to what he said though. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“Come in here.”

Blaine shook his head from the narrow hallway. “No, no it’s, that’s–”

“Blaine. Come inside.” Kurt’s voice was deep and stern, but when the door opened, he was laughing softly. Blaine thanked God he was dressed, because he was totally prepared to faint if he wasn’t.

“I have a deal for you,” Kurt said, drying his hair with a towel. “If my date goes terrible, I’ll call you. If it goes well, I’ll still call you.” He grinned and handed Blaine his phone.

It was crazy how contagious his smile was. Blaine felt his lips tug upwards as he typed a smiley face next to his name. “What’s in it for you?”

Kurt rolled his eyes with that same smile on his face and took his phone back. “Getting to hear your voice, or course.” He squeezed past Blaine, who’s limbs had temporarily planted into the floor. “Thanks for the shower, Blaine.” He winked, freaking winked, and Blaine heard the door shut softly behind him.

He smiled alone to himself in his foggy bathroom and turned his ringer all the way up.

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: exacerbate #tan lines and tan hands #glee #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #two shot #klaine fanfiction #i’m back to writing oblivious blaine #my specialty

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melodiouswhite · 4 years

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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 60

60. Happy birthday to a mad scientist

This time Utterson was the one to organise everything.

After all, today was a special day: 27th May, Jekyll's birthday.

Technically it was Hyde's too, but he had been created at night, so his celebration would wait – he had wanted it so.

Thus, the daytime belonged to Utterson and Jekyll.

“Happy birthday, Henry!”, the lawyer greeted him, “You're past the age of fifty now! How does it feel?”

The blond glowered at him: “You're older than I, you know the answer!”

“Point taken”, Utterson laughed.

Jekyll chuckled, when the lawyer presented him with tickets to an opera that would be performed today.

“That's so you, Gabriel. But I love going to the theatre or the opera with you.”

Utterson laughed: “Yes, because you love me. Now do come. It will start in two hours, we must not be late. You're going to like it, it's a comedy.”

Jekyll blinked: “This early in the day?”

“This early in the day. After that, we will go to my place, I'm cooking for you. I will not take no for an answer.”

The Doctor giggled: “As if I could possibly refuse that offer!”

Utterson was right; the opera was comedic gold.

Not just once Jekyll laughed along with the audience at the witty dialogues and the music was so cheerful and upbeat, that it raised his spirits even higher than they already were.

In his joy, he took the high risk of taking Utterson's hand.

The lawyer blushed a little, but didn't pull away.

Fortunately Jekyll remembered that they were basically in public, before anyone could see it and retracted his hand. At the reminder that his love for the other was illegal, he got the morbs.

“What's the matter?”, Utterson asked worriedly, when he noticed.

Jekyll sighed: “I wish we didn't have to be a secret.”

Utterson frowned a little. “Yes, me too. But let us not dwell on that now. Carpe diem, my friend.”

“Yes, you're right.”

After the opera visit, they decided to take a walk in the nearby park to enjoy this beautiful spring day, before they would go to Utterson's.

“It's very warm today, isn't it, my friend?”, Jekyll noted.

“Perfect May weather”, Utterson agreed.

The two conversed like ordinary friends, as they walked.

“Spring is my favourite season!”, the Doctor proclaimed, “When the fresh green leaves and all the flowers come out of hiding and the birds sing – even here in London!”

Utterson chuckled: “Truly, though I will always be partial towards autumn, when the leaves unfold all their colour, before they wither and are carried away by the wind – it's just so poetic to me!”

Jekyll grinned. “Shall I wax poetics about the seasons right here in the park, my friend?”

Utterson glared. “Don't you dare, Prof. Dr. Henry Jekyll!”

“Alright, alright! I'm sorry!”, the blond laughed.

They continued their walk and then went to Utterson's humble abode.

“I haven't been here in a while”, Jekyll remarked, as he entered. “Is it just me or is it looking even cosier than last time? Did you finally hire a housekeeper?”

The lawyer laughed: “I did. Or to be more specific, Lady Summers told me that her niece – the daughter of her hair stylist – had just learned how to keep house, so I let her work for me and Lady Summers pays.”

Jekyll grinned. Clever Lady.

“Speaking of Lady Summers”, he said, “Isn't she in Cornwall to check on her estate and visit her in-laws?”

Utterson nodded. “Yes, I got a telegram today. She's enjoying her holiday and wishes you a happy birthday.”

Jekyll couldn't help but smile.

“Her birthday's on 15th October, right?”

“It is”, Utterson confirmed. “She's less than five months younger than you, just a kind reminder. Now, Henry, why don't you sit down, while I cook us a good meal? Miss Mariner isn't the best cook, so I do it by myself. You can look through my books meanwhile.”

The Doctor took a seat and relaxed, as the lawyer scurried through the kitchen.

Instead of taking a book to entertain himself in the meantime, he listened to Utterson's voice, as the black-haired man was singing something in Italian, while he cooked.

Jekyll didn't listen to the words, he was too captivated by the other's singing.

I still think he should have become an opera singer instead of a lawyer, he thought.

Of course, Utterson was a good lawyer and just as suited for that work, but still … it was such a shame.

It wasn't long, before the most delicious and tantalising smell waved over from the kitchen, making Jekyll's mouth water.

It was middle afternoon, when Utterson came to serve the food.

“Buon appetito”, the lawyer wished him and the two wasted no time in digging into the food.

“Mmhh! Oh, it's scrumptious!”, Jekyll cried enthusiastically, “Really, Gabriel, your cooking is to die for!”

Utterson chortled: “Well, it wouldn't be very beneficial to die for it, would it?”

After their meal, the two just sat on the couch, cuddling.

“This is perfect”, Jekyll whispered.

Utterson hummed in agreement.

Edward should be here though, he thought, Then it would be absolutely perfect.

“I love you so”, the blond sighed happily.

Utterson sighed as well, but bitterly, because he still couldn't say it back.

Jekyll noticed and took the other's hand. “I know, Gabriel”, he soothed the older. “Don't beat yourself up over it. Edward will never be able to say it either.”

“I'll be able to say it one day”, Utterson promised, “I know I will! Just wait for me a little longer.”

Jekyll laughed: “Please, Gabriel. Why should I not be able to hold out just a bit longer, when I have loved you for so many years, while thinking you would never love me back? I don't mind waiting for a bit longer, now that I know that you love me – and in a way, Edward too. Right, you do?”

“Point taken”, Utterson chuckled and kissed the other. “And yes, there is no denying that I've grown very attached to him. Though I wouldn't say that I'm in love with him just yet.”

“I know”, the Doctor replied, “Knowing you, my dear, you would tell him so, once you're sure that you do.”

“Certainly would”, the lawyer laughed. “Do you think he loves me?”

Jekyll smirked: “Oh, absolutely! Don't tell him I told you this, but …” he woered his voice to whisper conspiratorily, “… He is heads over heels into you! Completely smitten! He's just unaware of it – or in denial.”

The two giggled like a chatty old couple plotting mischief.

“Don't worry, I won't say anything”, Utterson snickered. “I don't want to put him off now, do I?”

After escorting the birthday boy home in the early evening, the black-haired lawyer said goodbye.

“Thank you for the best birthday I had in decades”, Jekyll whispered, looked around to see if someone was looking and then clasped the other's hand.

“Anything for you, Harry”, Utterson smiled. “Goodbye, my mad scientist.”

Jekyll laughed: “Goodbye, my musically gifted lawyer! And enjoy your night with Hyde – I'm certain, he will be delighted to take you to some romantic location again.”

Utterson smiled lopsidedly. “Oh, I already have my plans for the other birthday boy too. Don't worry about it. “Good rest evening. Now, where is our little troublemaker?”

“I'm heeeere~”, a guttural voice responded from the background and Hyde emerged.

“Hi, Gabe”, the brunet purred.

“Hello, Edward”, Utterson chuckled. “Ready for your own birthday celebration?”

“Is Lady Summers the most stalwart person in London?”, Hyde retorted, “I was created ready!”

The two older men chuckled.

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #utterson #Mr Utterson #Gabriel John Utterson #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #jekyllxutterson

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ofheroesandvillains · 4 years

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Do Better 2 - Tony Stark

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Words: 3.7k Warnings: None? Some angst - tried to make this one a little happier than the last though! It’s a rollercoaster. Summary: I was very surprised that people liked the first part as much as they did, and I got a few requests to show how Tony and Mom met, and Tony and Kid’s relationship a few months later. Hope it isn’t trash, if it is, let me know!

Going to be honest, I’m in a big writing slump. I feel like everything I write is coming out wrong and it sucks. Hoping this one is alright, but I did do most of it on a good-ish day. Thank you so much for being patient, I hope everyone is doing well!

(gif not mine!)

There were times in his life where Tony really had to admit that he’d be nothing without Pepper Potts. She was the type of person who’d do her job and do it well regardless of the circumstances. Hell, most of the time she’d do his job too. But these were the early days, long before he’d realised her importance, and even longer before he’d realised his own feelings for her.

She’d only just started working for him and somehow she had already managed to drag him out of his workshop and into his worst nightmare. He’d never liked the theatre and he didn’t care much for dancing either. He wasn’t the type to sit still for hours on end, and he never quite understood how his mother managed to persuade his stone-cold father to always go with her.

Howard probably just liked having an excuse to stay as far away from him as possible, but that didn’t matter anymore.

What did matter was that it had been over an hour and there was absolutely nothing that could keep him in his seat any longer. Pepper be damned, he’d kiss ass another time and in another place - preferably one with an open bar.

Just as he started easing himself out of his seat, he saw her. Graceful, beautiful…entrancing. They all were, and if you asked him what was so special about her in particular, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. There was just something different about her. It could have been luck, or fate, or maybe even just random chance, but something had brought them together that night.

Maybe, he thought…maybe he could stick around a little longer.

---------

What would later become the most important day of his life, ended much like any other.

“Y’know…you’re not half bad.”

She glanced over her shoulder. If his presence surprised her, she didn’t show it. Plenty of celebrities hung around to meet the performers after a show. Plenty of press, too.

“Oh? Tony Stark: closet choreographer.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she returned to packing her bag. “They left that one out of the tabloids.”

“We all make mistakes,” he shrugged. “Speaking of, how ‘bout a drink?”

She turned around, brows arched high.

“With you?”

“Preferably. I mean-“

“No.”

His dark lashes fluttered. “No…?”

She laughed at his wide-eyed look.

“I’m starving. If dinner’s on the table then you’re on, otherwise…get out of my way, Mr Stark.”

His mouth abruptly shut and he looked far too pleased with himself.

“Dinner it is. Dessert’s on me, literally, figuratively…any way you want.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

“Mr Stark! A photo for the Times?”

“Big smiles,” he murmured in her ear, an arm looping around her waist with the speed of an experienced red carpet walker. She laughed at the thought, her eyes scrunching shut before the flash could blind her.

Pepper would remember it as the day he almost cost them a new partnership, and the tabloids would immortalise it as ‘Playboy’ Tony Stark’s latest conquest. But Tony, well, he remembered it for what it was. The day his greatest creation was unknowingly conceived.

---------

“You got your lunch?”

“Yep. Pepper packed it.”

“Homework?”

“It’s all there, dad.”

Tony didn’t fail to notice her amusement as he pulled up to the school entrance. He didn’t always have the time to take her himself, but this was a special occasion. And, if he was being honest with himself, he kinda enjoyed it. Driving his kid to school…there was something extraordinarily ordinary about it, and he liked it.

The car door slammed shut and she made her way around to his window.

“Are you going to be home when I get out?” There was a hopeful spark in her eyes.

“Not today.” The spark fizzled out. “I’m picking you up myself, birthday girl.”

She rolled her eyes but there was genuine happiness in her smile.

“See ya later, dad.”

He smiled at the spring in her step when she turned to head inside, and he just couldn’t help himself.

“Have a good day, kiddo! Love you!”

She almost jumped at the sudden and unnecessarily loud shout - and she wasn’t the only one. Her eyes flickered over the students openly gawking at him, and Tony chuckled at the scowl she sent his way. Seeing Tony Stark was like seeing a unicorn in the wild, and whispers were already buzzing around her.

“You let your old man know if the other kids are mean to you!”

“Dad.”

Teenagers, Tony thought, so self-conscious.

“Alright, alright. Get out of here.”

He watched her rush to the front door, pointedly ignoring the stares that followed her. In time, she’d gotten used to them, as much as he wished she didn’t have to.

---------

School became hectic as soon as the announcement was made. Tony Stark’s long-lost daughter had returned to him, and she was attending Midtown High. Being the ‘new kid’ was bad enough, she thought, but being the famous new kid was chaos.

She thought a sense of pride would come with the announcement - and it certainly had - but what was it they said about grass being greener on the other side? She quickly realised that her dad hadn’t really been ashamed of her...he’d been trying to protect her. From the cameras, from the fame, from everything he thought ruined him.

The other kids were nice to her, of course they were. But she went about her business as if nothing had changed. In a way, nothing had. She’d been a Stark from the beginning, but it would be a lie to say that her newfound popularity wasn’t getting on her nerves.

She was almost envious of Parker all over again, this time for his anonymity. She didn’t realise how much she would miss just being another face in class, another mundane student. Now there was a title attached to her that she’d never be able to shake. Tony Stark’s daughter. Ironman’s daughter.

At least Parker didn’t have to deal with Flash hounding him each day about the company and ‘what’s it like to have Tony Stark as a father?’ And ‘are you an Avenger by default?’ And ‘who’s stronger, Thor or Captain America?’

But if there was one good thing that came of it, it was that Peter now had a new and entirely unexpected ally.

---------

“Hey, Parker? Parker!”

Peter shoved his textbooks into his backpack and threw it over his shoulder with a sigh. Ned gave him a sympathetic glance, but they both knew it was best to just humour Flash in these moments. And that’s exactly what Peter did when he finally turned around, anxiously clutching the strap of his bag.

“You got a date for Lucy’s party this weekend?” asked Flash.

“I’m uh, I’m not going.”

Flash’s lips curled in triumph. “What’s the matter, Parker? Not cool enough for an invite?”

“No, he’s just hanging out with Tony Stark this weekend instead,” Ned blurted out, earning a sharp glare from his best friend.

“Dude,” Peter hissed under his breath.

He knew Ned meant well. In his own way, Ned was trying to stand up for him, but these things always had a tendency to back-fire on them.

Flash scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m going caroling with Hulk this year.”

By now a small crowd had gathered, students bustling to their lockers in preparation for their next class. A few of them watched the exchange and laughed. It was nothing new, but they had nothing better to do.

“Just admit it, Parker,” Flash drawled. “You’re too much of a loser to-”

“Hey, Peter. You still coming over for brunch this weekend? Dad was wondering.”

The whole hall came to a sudden stop and Peter’s eyes widened along with Flash’s. Where Flash went out of his way to bother him, she did all she could to avoid him. There were times where he wondered just what he’d done to make her dislike him, and he even considered asking Mr Stark. But he thought better of it when he realised just how stupid that idea sounded.

Flash’s eyes flickered between them, his mouth open in surprise. The rest of the student body was staring at Peter, waiting for some kind of answer. Ned gave him a not-so-subtle nudge and the silence was shattered.

“Y-yeah. Uh-huh. Definitely, this- this weekend. The brunch…” He nodded so fast he’d put a bobblehead to shame.

Another nudge from Ned had him clearing his throat.

“I’ll be there,” he smiled, all nerves and gratitude.

And she flashed him a signature Stark smile in return, full of hidden mischief and a touch of reassurance. He reminded himself to breathe.

“Great. Feel free to come along if you’re not busy, Ned.”

Ned’s brows shot up and he shared a disbelieving smile with Peter. The crowd in the hallway parted for her like the Red Sea and all anyone could do was watch as she marched away without a second glance. Maybe, just maybe, her newfound fame wasn’t all bad.

---------

“Can I take it off yet?”

“No.”

“But-“

“Nope.”

“Dad.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Fine,” she huffed, arms crossed.

She had no doubt that beyond the blindfold, her father looked all too pleased with himself. Let it be known that Tony Stark was excellent at planning surprises, because she had absolutely no idea where they were going, or if they were even still in New York.

He’d been fretting about her for weeks leading up to this day, and now that it had arrived, she’d been showered with all the gifts she’d refused to let him buy for her throughout the year. But she wouldn’t deny him this one chance to spoil her. It was the first birthday he got to spend with her and he had F.R.I.D.A.Y send a very strict warning to pretty much everyone with his cell number.

If anyone so much as thought about ruining their day together, he’d make their life a living hell as only Tony Stark could. Even Pepper, who’d done her best not to laugh at the time, endured a half-hearted finger-wagging session the night before. She hadn’t taken it to heart, in fact, she thought it was one of the sweetest things Tony had ever done.

He was trying so hard to honour the words that still echoed in his mind, ones he’d never forget.

Stop letting her down…

He’d be the first to admit that maybe he’d taken it a little too far. Despite personally driving his daughter to school and trying to make it home in time for dinner each day, Tony was a bit of a mess. These were uncharted waters and he didn’t exactly have a prime example in his father to know how far was too far, but he thought it was going quite well.

There was a happiness in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she first arrived, a newfound comfort that allowed her to spend weekends in his workshop with him, asking question after question about his latest project.

If she was happy, then he was happy. He was doing his best to be the dad she deserved, and Pepper had reassured him that he was doing a good job.

Unfortunately, and understandably, her happiness had dipped. A month after transferring to the Tower, her mother had passed. Tony had known that pain before, he’d known the loss and suffering. But seeing his child, the one person in the world he do absolutely anything for, experience that same thing…it hurt him more than he ever thought possible.

“Dad?”

He was mercifully thrown out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Can I take it off now?”

“Sure.”

She perked up. “Really?”

Tony smirked.

“No.”

---------

“Okay, a little to the left…not that far left.” Tony’s hand shot out to keep her from tumbling down the stairs.

This blindfold thing didn’t seem like such a great idea in hindsight. Getting up the stairs had taken far too long for someone as impatient as Tony Stark.

“Now?” She asked, not even bothering to hide her exasperation.

“Just gimme...” Keys jingled. “A sec.” A lock clicked. “Alright, just a few more seconds.” A hand wrapped itself around her elbow and steered her inside the room.

The door slipped shut behind her, and her dad was unusually silent.

“Alright, kid. You can take it off now.”

Her eyes were moist and bleary when she finally slipped the blindfold off, but she froze.

She knew these floors. She knew the walls and the equipment too, freshly painted and newly bought, but familiar nonetheless. Too many tears had been shed in recent months, but she couldn’t help the sting in her eyes nor the pressure at the back of her throat. She could only stare, wide-eyed as her feet unconsciously led her toward the wall of mirrors she’d looked into every weekend since she was a child.

There, right on the wall above, was a framed photo. She didn’t need to ask when it was taken, there was only one possible answer. Her mother’s smile was radiant, her eyes scrunched in a laugh as the man beside stared down at her with a smile of his own. They made for a beautiful pair, no matter how temporary their acquaintance. She’d never seen this photo before, never thought one existed.

But in that moment, in her mind, they were right where they belonged - together.

A shuddering breath left her and she tried to steady herself.

No more tears.

She forced her gaze away.

By the window was a desk, it wasn’t there before but the desk itself was irrelevant. The small box on top of it was wrapped in matte red wrapping paper and a shiny gold ribbon. She cracked a shaky smile and glanced over at her dad. He was lingering by the doorway, letting her have this moment to herself.

He offered her a soft smile in return.

Her legs hadn’t felt this weak in a long time but they made it. There was a small piece of paper, folded and tucked beneath the ribbon.

The writing was unforgettable, elegantly slanted, if a little shaky. She realised then, that it must have been written near the end. Short and to the point. The sting in her eyes disappeared, the dam broke, and he was there in a flash.

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

I love you so much,

Mom xxx

“It’s alright.” A hand rubbed her back gently. “I got you.”

He’d comforted her before, and though he was more familiar with the protocol now, he’d often get chatty in situations like this - bringing up anything and everything to lessen the weight of the moment. It was usually enough to distract her until she fell asleep on rough nights. He’d joke that her old man’s ramblings could put her right to bed, and he liked to think that she appreciated his efforts.

But this time…this time there was no avoiding the conversation that had to be had.

“She told me about this place, y’know? Said it was your favourite place in the world.”

“It is.”

Her words were muffled, by her tears or by his shirt, probably both.

“Also said you wanted to be an instructor when you grew up.”

“I do.”

She pulled away from him then, the sleeves of her sweater pressed to her eyes as she took another shuddering breath.

“Then you’re gonna need a studio, huh?” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Her hands finally came away from her bloodshot eyes, and he had to remind himself that there were some things he couldn’t protect her from, things that were out of his control. Loss, unfortunately, was one of those things.

“Last one, I promise,” he said with a guilty little smile, and the small red box in hand.

She huffed a laugh, the sound thick in her throat. Two keys twinkled at her when she removed the lid, freshly cut and in much better condition than she remembered.

“Happy birthday, kid,” he murmured softly.

A sweet and appreciative smile tugged at her lips, and she threw her arms around him again.

“Thanks, dad. For everything.” She drew in a deep breath. “You’re the best.”

Smartest, sleaziest, cockiest…they were all titles he’d boasted in the tabloids during his younger days, but he never thought he’d earn the best. Not from anyone that mattered.

“Come on,” he said, ignoring the slight prickling in his own eyes. “I left cake in the storeroom fridge. Don’t tell Pepper.”

---------

The weekend had come around quickly and she’d completely forgotten the invitation she’d extended to Parker and Ned, until her dad had instructed her to send Spider-boy to him as soon as he arrived. They were okay - friendly enough and better than most of the other kids at school. But that didn’t mean she wanted them there.

The elevator chimed. Too late.

“H-hey, hi.”

It was Parker who spoke, Ned was too busy staring at the walls and ceilings and…literally everything, to form any words.

“Hi?” She absentmindedly greeted, watching as Ned wandered off in some sort of trance.

“Hi.” Parker smiled, awkward and somewhat dopey, a match for his breathy tone. He realised that she realised that he was staring, and with a flutter of lashes, that familiar look of panic crossed his features. Then he was back to the stuttering, stammering, mess she knew him to be.

“Thanks for, y’know, helping out with Flash. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. To be honest, I didn’t think you guys would actually come.”

“We weren’t going to - not because we didn’t want to!” He quickly added, rambling on like water gushing from a cracked dam. “I did, we did. I just know we’re not exactly friends - and that’s totally fine, really - and I didn’t want to bother you, I just wanted to thank you for- for your…” He trailed off with a long, drawn-out breath, and wide-eyed mortification. “Help.”

It sounded more like he was asking for it.

“Right…” She nodded, drawing out the word in a way that made his cheeks flood with warmth, before jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Dad’s in his workshop, said something about an upgrade if you’re interested.”

“Oh! Great. Thank you, I um, I’ll just…” He pointed in the same direction, and wondered why a small smile had slipped onto her face. Then he realised he was staring again. Peter cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away with a sheepish smile. “Heh, sorry. Thanks again!”

“Peter?”

He spun around.

“It’s the…other door.”

His cheeks flushed once more and he rushed out of the room before he could embarrass himself further.

“What’d I miss?” Ned smiled obliviously.

I have no idea, she thought with a shake of her head.

“C’mon, Ned. Let me show you around.”

---------

When she left the house that day the fridge had been bare. The tickets were in her dad’s pocket, or in Pepper’s purse, and a smile was on her face.

As soon as the music began, she forgot about the ache in her knees and the butterflies running rampant in her stomach. She’d never been so nervous for a performance. But then again, no other performance had ever been as important to her as this one. The excitement of having her father there, watching her dance for the very first time had long since evaporated, and all that remained were her nerves and a twinge of sadness she tried her best to push down.

It wasn’t the first recital her mother hadn’t been able to make it to, but it was the first one since she’d passed.

The morning had been spent in tears. When she thought of dancing, she thought of weekends spent in their studio, and road trips across the States from competition to competition. The afternoon came. It forced sadness from her mind and welcomed uncertainty.

Her whole life had been spent wondering what her father would think of her - if someone as brilliant as Tony Stark could ever be proud of someone as normal as her. She didn’t like business, and she didn’t want Stark Industries. She was certain he knew this by now, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about it. Instead, he’d bought her old dance studio and slipped into front row seats while she hyperventilated backstage.

Her stress, it seemed, was for nothing. That was usually how things went.

“Incredible!”

“You think so?”

“Sure do. I couldn’t look away, right, Pep?”

Pepper nodded with an indulgent smile.

“It’s the longest he’s been able to focus on a single thing since we met.” She shot Tony a pointed look that softened when she looked over at his daughter. “Congratulations, sweetie, that was an amazing performance.”

“Thanks, Pepper!”

“So what now? You gotta go sign autographs, take some selfies with the fans?” She laughed and gave her dad a nudge. Tony smiled down at her.

“Now, I go get changed and then you buy me food.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded, watching as she turned to head backstage. “Hey, kid?”

“Yeah?”

She looked back at him, and Tony couldn’t help the intense feeling of deja vu that came over him. She looked so much like her mother in that moment, and though he knew she was a whole half of him, it only really hit him then. Pepper gave his waist a reassuring squeeze, always attuned to his every thought.

Something swelled in his chest, pure and whole and unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He always thought he hated his father, but now, as he stood there with her looking up at him like his opinion meant the world to her…he couldn’t help but feel sorry for old Howard. Had he ever felt the way Tony felt now? Had he ever looked at his own son and wondered how he ever could have gotten so lucky?

Whatever he was originally planning on saying was forgotten.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Her smile was blinding and that was all he needed.

“Thanks, dad.”

--------

Thoughts?

#tony stark #tony stark daughter #tony stark fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #Avengers #ironman #ironman fanfiction

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Young Blood V -(PB/WITS Crossover)

A/N: Last part! We had so much fun writing this, we might come back to this baby in the future :) -Val & Danny

Words: 2,700

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Summer 1996

“So, Hermione,” Sirius handed her a drink, he was grinning widely. “Tell us all about Percy back at school, is he a good boyfriend?”

“Dad,” Percy started, Hermione chuckled.

“He’s really nice, yes. My parents want to ask all of you to my Dad’s birthday in two weeks, they’re looking forward to meeting you.”

“Oh, wanting to meet the boyfriend’s parents already?” Persephone raised a brow. “We have to be on our best behaviour Sirius, they’re paying half of the things for their wedding!”

“Mum!” Percy frowned, trying to stand up to leave the room. “Let’s go, Hermione, it’s getting late…”

“Thought Matthew was going to take you to the movies?” Sirius raised a brow.

“I rather walk than stay here and be humiliated in front of my girlfriend,” The young wizard replied. “Honestly, you guys don’t act like this with Lyra, this is ridiculous…”

“Lyra’s an angel,” Sirius said with an accusing finger. “She’s never done anything wrong in her life and she’ll stay single until she’s forty.”

“The fact that she’s never been in detention doesn’t mean she’s an angel,” Percy scoffed. “And I saw her flirting with a sixth-year Slytherin the last term.”

“She what?” Sirius straightened in his place.

The doorbell rang and Percy was quick to stand up and answer it, Harry walked in looking rather anxious.

“Your parents are here?”

“Yeah?” The boy raised a brow. “Why?”

“Good,” He whispered. “I’m pretty sure Mel’s dad has been planning a way to murder me tonight and make it look like it was an accident.”

Perseus laughed.

“What?”

“Shh!” He looked over his shoulder. “He’s coming!”

Matthew’s imposing figure stepped into the entrance, Mel walked in after him. She was tinier than her father, but her scowl was enough to make people fear her.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Matthew asked out loud.

“Wonderful,” Mel replied sarcastically. “If only my dad stopped acting like a baby.”

“Watch your words, girl,” The man warned her.

Matthew Dumbledore’s daughters were usually calm, sweet daddy’s girls. However, whenever they had a disagreement people could just feel the power emanating from them. Now that Mel was older, it was really obvious that she had inherited her father’s character.

“Ruddy,” Sirius’ eyes were darting nervously between the two. “It is a lovely night, so let’s try to keep a nice attitude, shall we? It’s a group date! Love is in the air!”

“And it stinks of hormones,” Matthew replied angrily.

“Oh god,” Mel rolled her eyes, she turned to look at Hermione. “Hi, are you having a good summer?”

“Er… yeah,” Hermione stared at Mel’s dad nervously, he was usually the most charming man. “Yeah… and you?”

“It’s been good,” Mel walked up to Harry and he flinched, eyes immediately fixing on Matthew’s. “This is ridiculous!” Mel turned to Persephone. “Could you please talk to my dad? Harry’s been nothing but a gentleman in and out of school and it’s time he gets over his overprotective nonsense.”

“Alright, enough of this, Ruddy,” Persephone crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. “You know Harry since he was a baby! His parents are your friends! It’s family already, c’mon…”

“I’m sorry, but I find it a bit hard to believe that in a matter of months this boy dropped all the mischief and bad behaviour,” Matthew frowned. “The Potters are professional charmers, they would know how to trick a crowd.”

“Hark who’s talking!” Persephone exclaimed in disbelief. “You spent a whole year flirting with the whole school just to get Emily’s attention!” She turned to the children. “Which didn’t work, by the way.”

“My dad did what?”

Matthew’s eyes widened, he blushed a deep shade of red.

“That’s… that’s different, I was a kid.”

“I was a kid too!” Harry argued, finally finding enough courage after Persephone’s scolding. “I won’t use it as an excuse, I’m aware of how bad I was…” He looked down. “I just… I spent my whole childhood wanting to be like you and my dad… I saw an opportunity and took it.”

“That’s true,” Percy decided to back up his best friend. “He’s always admired you, Uncle Ruddy.”

“Admired?” Matthew grimaced. “Why?”

“You guys are legends,” Harry said. “And Mel is the coolest girl I’ve met. I promise I’m not dating her just to fool around… I’m…” Harry looked over at Percy and his mocking grin, Harry groaned internally, he swallowed his pride and fixed his eyes on the tall man in front of him. “I’m in love with your daughter.”

Mel beamed at his speech, she looked back at her father with her bright, sweet eyes and for the first time in the whole summer, Matthew felt ashamed of his attitude towards the boy.

“Fine,” He sighed. “You’re a good boy, Harry.”

“He’s amazing,” Mel responded, hugging Harry by the waist and looking up at him adoringly.

Matthew groaned, Sirius patted his shoulder and muttered something that sounded like ‘you’ve lost her, mate.’

“Hey, guys?” Remus suddenly appeared at the doorstep. “Hurry up, the movie starts in twenty minutes.”

“Moony,” Sirius frowned. “Thought Matthew was the only one chaperoning the kids?”

“He’s not here to babysit us,” Percy smirked. “Mel invited Tonks and uncle Moony suddenly had time to join us.”

“Really?” Sirius raised a brow, he walked slowly towards Remus, eyeing him up. “How come?”

“Ever since Mum brought her to talk about her work as Auror,” Percy explained. “He’s been awful social.”

“Uncle Moony has a crush,” Mel grinned.

“I don’t!” Remus tried to look offended. “I — I just want to spend time with my favourite nieces and nephews!”

“Huh,” Harry raised a brow. “Is that why you offered to take Tonks home separately?”

“You’re trying to woo my cousin, Moony?” Sirius stood in front of him.

“Oh, I saw the way they greeted each other this afternoon,” Matthew raised his eyebrows. “Pretty sure he’s wooed her for at least a month now…”

“Ruddy!” Persephone swatted his arm. “Don’t be vulgar!”

“And he still has the nerve to complain about Harry,” Mel teased, Harry now had his arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders.

“Seriously, it’s getting late,” Remus insisted, completely ignoring their comments. “And we don’t get to use magic at muggle theatres, so you don’t want to get caught in the middle of a long line…”

“I insist, we don’t need babysitters for our dates, we’re sixteen!” Percy whined as he walked out of the house followed by the rest.

“Tell that to Prongs’ car,” Matt snorted. “It’s lucky we have magic, otherwise you would’ve spent half of your parent’s money paying for a new one.”

June 1998

They had decided to make the party at Lupin’s place because it had a beautiful, wide garden. Usually, they would wait until July, but this was a special occasion.

Harry, Mel and Percy had finished their last year at Hogwarts.

The place was full of familiar faces, friends from school as well as their families, even some of their favourite teachers were there, even Snape, who was (unfortunately, in James opinion) part of the family since he was Joshua’s godfather.

James and Sirius had been snickering close to the man’s table, laughing at how absurd Snape was looking surrounded by colourful balloons and confetti.

“We can’t deny he’s been quite a decent godfather to Joshua,” James sighed. “Although Joshua has never been a problem, bless him, he’s all Lily. Snape’s lucky he got the quiet one, I can’t even imagine what he’d do if he’d gotten Cassia or Ivy.”

“Drop dead, probably,” Sirius smirked.

“I can hear you,” Snape turned around on his chair, looking at the men with a quirked eyebrow. “Loud and clear.”

James choked on his drink and quickly replied with an apology, Sirius couldn’t stop the silly grin on his face from widening.

“You’re worse than your children,” Snape sneered, standing up and moving away to get a drink.

“Yeah we’re happy to see you too, Snivellus,” Sirius snorted.

“Leo Regulus Black!” Persephone’s voice came from the kitchen.

“Sounds like my wife needs me,” Sirius excused himself.

Back in the house fourteen-year-old Leo is looking at his mother with an innocent expression that it’s not working at all.

“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius enters.

“McGonagall told me just now that she never got a reply for her last letter,” Persephone said heatedly. “She says our dearest son set fire to the Hufflepuff Keeper! And he’s got this ongoing prank war with Cassia and Ivy, did you know they somehow managed to turn Filch’s cat bright green?”

“To be fair, that one was meant for Dennis Creevey,” Leo said. “I can’t stand that git—”

“You’re grounded,” Persephone crossed her arms. “For the whole month. I don’t know how you did it but I know you intercepted McGonagall’s letter and you’re in big, big trouble.”

“C’mon Mum, don’t be such a bore…”

“Leo Regulus —!”

“Yeah?” Regulus Black walked into the kitchen, holding a piece of cake.

“Not you!” Persephone replied moodily.

“She’s talking to the other Reg, mate,” Sirius said, patting his brother’s shoulder as he walked past. “Glad to see you could make it! How’s life? How’s work?”

“I’m not telling you what my job is, Sirius,” He replied with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, c’mon!” Sirius whined.

“— and if I hear you tried to steal another toilet from the school’s bathrooms I’ll write a letter so they ban you from the Quidditch team!”

Leo gasped, his mother walked out of the room fuming and Sirius looked down at his son trying not to look too proud.

“Bad luck, boy,” Sirius sighed. “At least the twins think twice before messing with the school staff.”

“It was their idea,” Leo sulked. “I wanted to turn Filch’s office pink.”

Sirius snorted, he shook his head and ushered his son out of the house.

“That went well,” Sirius sighed, looking over at the garden.

Outside there were two large tables so all the kids could sit in the same spot. Harry, Mel and Percy were all together as usual, although now Harry had his arm around Mel and Percy was holding Hermione’s hand on the table. Next to them were Ron and Ariana, who was laughing so hard she was almost crying.

Matthew had suffered the last two years, Ron was Harry’s best friend right after Perseus, meaning he’d been part of their mischief, but Emily hadn’t let him scare Ron and he’d been dating little Ari for a year and a half now, she looked happier than ever.

Next to the big group of lovebirds were the Potter twins: Cassia and Ivy. The redheads where talking animatedly with Lyra and Leo. Further down were the Weasleys, Erick Flint and his cousin Jo, Neville Longbottom, Josephine and Luna Lovegood. Persephone’s nephews and nieces were also there, although they were seated at a different table.

Sirius had never been fond of huge parties when he was younger, but this one was completely different to the one he remembered from his childhood.

“Needed a break from the noise?” Remus spoke behind him. “Me too, but I think I should get used to it.”

Sirius turned around and smiled, his friend was standing there, holding his newborn and glowing with happiness.

“Little Teddy has entered the party!” Sirius rushed over to carry his nephew. “Look at him! Nice hair, buddy.”

Remus laughed, standing beside him.

“Tonks has been trying to make him change it to pink, but so far Teddy’s favourite’s are blue and green, she’s not happy about it.”

“Well I think he looks good,” Sirius made a funny face to make the baby laugh. “Isn’t that right, little Ted?”

“Don’t let him fall asleep,” Tonks said, looking slightly anxious. “We’re trying to keep him awake so he’ll sleep the whole night.”

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Sirius teased. “Real fun to have a baby...”

Remus shook his head, chuckling lowly. “Well you tell me, you had four.”

Little Teddy started to squirm in his arms and Sirius quickly returned him to his father, Remus was happy to take him back. The couple walked out of the house with Sirius behind them.

“Elena’s first year was uneventful, I heard,” Remus grinned.

“Yeah, she’s a nice girl like Lyra,” He smiled. “Leo says she doesn’t hang out with him and Joshua a lot, but they look after her anyway.”

“They’ll come back, you know?” Remus pointed to Percy with his head. “He’ll be around for a while before he moves out.”

“Yeah, a year or two,” Sirius smiled at his son proudly. “He wants to earn his own money, and he’ll need a while for that, then he’ll get his own place and leave us… Blimey, he’s a man now, I didn’t have enough time to enjoy him, you know?”

“It’s not like he’s leaving for good,” Remus calmed him.

“No, but it’s not the same, is it?”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Persephone got closer and kissed her husband’s cheek.

“We’re running out of kids,” Sirius nudged her side. “How about we have another one?”

“Absolutely not!” Persephone raised a brow. “Easy for you to say it, you don’t have to carry them around for nine months!”

“You know I’d do it!”

“My answer is no and that’s final, Sirius.”

“Oh well, I had to try,” He pouted.

“Is that Teds?” James called across the garden. “Bring him over, Moony!”

“My favourite thing about parties is that everyone always holds the baby for me,” Tonks winked, walking away from the couple with her husband following her.

“Is only a matter of time before Percy marries Hermione,” Sirius shook his head. “At least Lyra still hasn’t shown any interest in boys...”

“Yeah, she hasn’t,” Persephone snorted. “Because she’s dating Ginny Weasley.”

“She what?” Sirius’ head snapped to the side quickly, he spotted Lyra in no time.

Ginny was shamelessly flirting with his daughter, something Lyra seemed to be enjoying a lot.

“Ah, I know that smile,” Sirius frowned. “Well, okay… at least she knows how to use it.”

Persephone laughed at his reaction, kissing his cheek again.

“So what now?” Ari asked them with a bright smile. “What’s your plan? You guys will all live together for the rest of your lives?”

Percy made a face, Harry and Mel chortled.

“Nah,” Harry and Mel shared a look. “We’ve talked about it, actually…”

“I’ll work with mum,” Mel said excitedly. “I’ll learn all I can from her, she’ll teach me everything… then we’ll travel around the world looking for magical creatures for research and stuff...”

“You’re going with them?” Ron asked Percy.

The boy shook his head.

“I’ll make enough money to get my own place and then…” His gaze lingered on Hermione. He smiled. “Then I’ll do whatever she wants.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be silly, you’ll know what to do by then, you won’t need to ask me.”

“Maybe,” He leaned and kissed her. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ask for your opinion, though.”

“You can join us if you want, Ron?” Harry offered. “I know you told your brothers you’ll help them with the shop they opened in Hogsmeade, but…”

Ron thought about it, Ariana was quick to intervene.

“Oh! Can’t you wait for me?” She said, her clear blue eyes staring at them imploringly. “I’ll graduate next year! If you wait we can all go together!”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to become a teacher?” Mel asked in amusement.

“Uncle Lupin said he’ll wait until Elena graduates to resign, and that’s six years away,” She shrugged. “Said he wanted to be around before his son was old enough to go to school — So travelling with you just like my uncle did might help me!”

“Sounds right,” Harry shrugged. “We’re not leaving until Mel decides it’s time, and that may take a while.”

“Well then, I could start working at the joke shop so I can have some money for the trip,” Ron smiled. “How long are we going to wait?”

“A year, maybe two,” Mel squirmed in her place with a huge smile. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? I can’t wait!”

Harry looked at her with adoration.

“Don’t worry, Mellow, we have time…”

WITS Taglist:

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

PB Taglist:

@avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft @secret-obsessions @theeicedamericano @xkonpinkx @inkandpen22 @littledeadgirlwalking @chloe-geoghegan1 @medalloway-blog

#twoidiots writing #pureblood #WITT fic #youngblood crossover #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #sirius black xoc #harry potter xoc

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notsofastinspector · 2 years

Video

youtube

Happy birthday to the legend that is Josh Elliott!

#happy birthday #mischief movie night in #mischief theatre #doctor #He is like Superman and Clark Kent

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oneandahalfwolf · 3 years

Photo

a very happy birthday to the mun behind @bloodsorceress. i hope you enjoy this little drabble and have a fab day.

“So, what do you guys think the new student is going to be like?”

Iley raised her head briefly to look at Mika’s grinning face before going back to her stretches with a slightly exasperated, though begrudgingly fond, shake of her head. She loved her friends, she really did, but sometimes they were so typically vapid it made her miss the snooty students at her old French High School. She never thought the ‘California Valley Girl’ stereotype she had seen in so many American movies could be true. Even if only one of the trio of girls was actually from that area.

“I heard he’s some street dancer kid from England or something,” Evie, the one Californian in the group, responded. Mika’s grin only grew, swinging one leg over the other from where she sat perched on an amp, leaning back as if posing for a swimsuit photo shoot.

“Well...” the blonde drawled in her, surprisingly natural, posh Oxford English accent, “maybe that will give us something in common.”

“Pump the brakes blondie,” Paige, the group’s native New Yorker, interjected. “You’ve not even met this guy yet. You have no idea if he’s even going to be into you.”

“Who could resist me?”

“You want the whole list?” Iley said with a raised brow, her French lilt peeking through her generic American accent. Mika immediately pouted while the other two girls quickly broke into giggles. Eventually the blonde rolled her eyes and leaned forward, blue eyes fixed on the short brunette.

“Well what do you think then ‘Ley?” Iley gave a half shrug, shifting her body to help Paige with a partnered stretch.

“I don’t have any thoughts. I’m waiting until whoever they are arrives and we actually meet them before making any assumptions.” Evie scoffed.

“God you are no fun shortstack.”

“Well,” Paige said, grunting slightly as the stretch pulled at her muscles, “whoever it is, I heard he was fast tracked all the way into second year. Didn’t even have to audition or anything. Got plucked straight out of whatever school or street corner the Headteacher saw him at.”

“As long as we don’t get a fucking Step Up situation,” Evie sneered, picking at some fluff on her leggings. “I am so not up for that whole fusion bullshit.”

“Open your mind Evie,” Iley said, finally getting up from the wooden floor. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.”

The other brunette scowled and opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off by their teacher entering the room, clapping her hands to get their attention.

“Alright class, alright class, please get in formation.” The woman waited until her students had lined up before carrying on. “As you’re all probably aware, we shall be having a new student joining us today. They will be arriving shortly after the Headteacher finishes their induction. In the meantime I don’t want us lazing about waiting for them, so everybody get into pairs and begin basic warm ups.”

Iley immediately partnered up with Paige, not in the mood for anymore of Evie and Mika’s gossiping, and followed the rest of the classes lead in starting their exercises. Fifteen minutes later they were on a water break when the door to the studio opened, their teacher greeting the Head immediately. The brunette had her back to the door, busy taking a long drink from her water bottle, but heard every word that was spoken.

“Good morning class.” There were a few echoes of ‘Good Morning Mx Kader’ before the Head continued. “This is Benkai’l Brandr and they will be the new student joining your class today.”

Iley’s head snapped up, not taking in any of the rest of Mx Kader’s welcome speech. That name. It couldn’t be. Her eyes went to the full length war mirror and focused on the new figure standing beside the headteacher. She gasped, her bottle of water slipping from her grasp and falling to the ground almost in slow motion.

They were older. Taller. So much taller. But the eyes were the same. Grey like a stormy afternoon. Skin was still as pale as snow and smattered with freckles. Freckles she used to play connect the dots with when they were four.

Her water bottle hit the wood floor with a loud clatter making everyone look her way, but she didn’t care. She simply turned sharply and openly stared, mouth agape as she tried to form words.

“Noc?”

The new student, who had been staring at the fallen water bottle, looked up at the name. Eyes widened, brows raising towards black hair.

“‘Mira?” came the mumbled reply.

A sob escaped her throat as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. The room was silent, everyone confused at the turn of events - with some even starting whisper.

It was broken as Iley sprinted forward towards the other teen, crossing the floor as fast as she could. The new student dropped the duffel bag from their shoulder and easily caught the brunette as she leapt at them. Her arms wrapped around their neck as her legs went around their waist, the two seemingly not strangers fitting together almost like a puzzle piece. Like they had been made to be two halves of one whole. The whole class could only stare as they pair spun around, the movement so fluid it looked like a step from a contemporary dance number.

Iley started to sob into the much taller teen’s neck. They smelt exactly the same. Like fresh paper, burnt wood, and lilacs. One of her hands reached up and cradled the back of their head, fingers fisting the red beanie that was between her palm and their hair, pulling it off slightly. Not that her old childhood friend cared. They were just over the moon that she was here, in the flesh. Tears silently streamed down their own cheeks, feeling completely overwhelmed. But why wouldn’t they - their wildest dream was coming true right now after all.

Eventually Iley finally, though reluctantly, eased herself down off of the taller teen. However one hand remained clutching at their hoodie, fist pressed against their lower back. She swiped at her tears with her free hand, unable to take her eyes off their face. When someone finally broke the silence she had to look away.

“Um… Iley?”

Brown eyes landed on Paige and took in that the whole class was staring at the pair. The brunette cleared her throat, free hand going up to fix her dishevelled hair.

“Sorry. Sorry. This is… We were...” It was difficult to get the words out without crying all over again. “This is my best friend. We used to dance together as kids until I had to move away. We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”

A chorus of understanding and awed noises came from the surrounding class. The Headteacher cleared their throat, a strange smile on their face - almost like they had known and a plan had come to fruition, the twinkle in their eyes adding even more mischief to the expression.

“Well that is a wonderful happenstance. I suppose I shall leave you now however. I hope you can catch up soon, but remember; class first students.”

They nodded to the other teacher before taking their leave. The dance teacher gave the Head a wave before turning to the still pair still locked in what could be seen as an awkward embrace, but the two teens simply looked at ease more than anything.

“So um… Benkai’l wasn’t it? Why don’t you introduce yourself properly?”

“Uh...” The taller teen pulled the beanie Iley had loosened from its perch on their head before they rubbed nervously at the area. “Yeah, I’m Ben. I have danced lots of different genres over the years. Jazz. Tap. Contemporary. Ballroom. Currently though I’m mostly Street and Commercial. I’m majoring in dance here on a scholarship, whilst minoring in backstage and technical theatre. I’m originally from Scotland before we moved to Poland, and now I’ve come here for school.”

Iley grinned. She knew the Polish lilt they had under their Scottish broag had seemed stronger. Much like how her own French one had become more distinct since she moved to that country, theirs had done the same. And now she knew where the hell they’d ended up. Though she was sure there was more to the story. Something she couldn’t wait to find out.

“Well it's lovely to have you in our class Ben. I’m sure Iley can keep you right on how we work.” Iley gave a fervent nod, unable to stop herself from grinning. The teacher smiled before giving a clap and turning to the rest of the class. “Okay then, now we have all been introduced, let’s get back to work. I want you all to be on your best behaviour and perform your heart out for our new family member.”

Iley immediately dragged Ben over to the class side, ignoring the stares from her friends and other classmates, still unable to believe her eyes or let go of them in some capacity until she absolutely had to. Her childhood friend couldn’t help but laugh quietly even as they struggled to remove their hoodie. It was too cute. Besides they were more than happy to keep the girl close. Iley’s three girl friends could only continue to gawk. They had never seen the other girl like this. So.. happy.

Class had to continue but all parties couldn’t wait until lunch to hopefully get some answers to their burning questions.

***

“What happened?”

Ben rubbed their hands free of salt and grease, swallowing the last of their mouthful of fries before clearing their throat and leaning forward, resting their forearms on the edge of the table.

“There was a fire. Three years after you left. Arson. Everyone’s fine though. Mostly property damage and a few minor injuries. But we had to go into Witness Protection. Change names and move away. Everything happened so fast we either lost your address or it was burned in the fire. I was… I was so heartbroken. I think I cried every night for a month. Mama tried to comfort me, and Tata tried to find you online, but we came up blank.”

“Three years after I moved?” Iley asked, moving back from where she had been leaning her chin on the lid of her drink. Ben nodded, frowning slightly. The brunette laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this. Three years after I moved to England there was some bullshit with my grandparents. We had to go back to France to sort it all out. I wrote to you with the change of address, but obviously it never got to you. You wouldn’t have been able to find us cause we’d left the country.”

“Holy shit.” Ben shook their own head, chuckling in disbelief. “I can’t believe we were so unlucky.” Iley reached over and took one of Ben’s pale hands in her own, running a thumb over their knuckles.

“Hey,” she said softly, waiting until the taller teen met her gaze. “We might have been unlucky then, but we are fucking lucky as hell right now.” Ben chuckled, squeezing Iley’s hand.

“That’s an understatement Princess.” Iley grinned before letting go and grabbing a few of her fries from the table.

"So how are your parents?"

"Good," Ben replied, reaching for their burger. "They all adjusted quickly to the change. I mean Matka and Tata grew up there so they helped when we were confused, plus we'd already been learning Polish since I was wee. Mama and Matka opened a cake shop. Matka does most of the business side while Mama bakes. Papa got a job as a mechanic, while Tata went to work as a tour guide. He loves it cause he gets to wax lyrical about all his favourite places." They swallowed their mouthful and shook their head again. "They aren't going to believe I found you. I can't wait to tell them."

"Same with mine," Iley responded. "When I wasn't getting any letters back from you I got so worried, even more so when some started coming back. To be honest at one point I thought you hated me cause I moved further away, but Maman reminded me that that was likely impossible. Said 'Noc would be more likely to forget a step in your best routine than hate you.'"

"She's right." Ben leant forward, elbows resting on their table and fingers interlaced as they looked at her with a critical gaze, though there was a light twinkle in their eye. "Okay so, we know why I changed my name, but why did you change yours."

"Oh, right. Sorry," Iley replied with a wince, realising she had slipped up. Ben waved it off, that lopsided smile she had missed so much still on their face. "Well for me… Short version is, the crap with my grandparents put a sour taste in my mouth and I didn't want anything to do with them, name included. I brought it up with Maman and she agreed to let me change it, as did Papa and Dad. She was sad but she understood. They've all been really good with using this new one."

“I still can’t believe you picked that name.”

“You’re one to talk,” Iley said with a laugh, leaning over and gently punching them in the shoulder. “I guess… It just fit. It was our favourite book as kids. I mean we used to play pretend all the time, acting like we were the fabled Wolf Prince and Water Princess. Hell we based our best routine on that story.” She gave a shy shrug. “I dunno, I guess I thought if I picked that one then I’d be a bit closer to you in some way.”

“To be honest,” Ben said quietly, “those were my thoughts exactly when I picked mine.”

Iley reached across the table and wrapped her left pinky around Ben’s right. The taller teen smiled and completed the link. Brown and grey eyes just stared at each other for a long while, looking much like a happy romantic couple - even though that was far from the truth. The sound of the door to the fast food joint opening broke the moment.

“I told you she’d be here!”

Iley looked up to see her three girl friends followed by the two boys of their small group - Nate and Jackson. She groaned and collapsed back into her seat. Ben’s brows furrowed and they started to turn in order to look round, but were interrupted by Nate hopping over the back of the booth to sit next to them. Their nose wrinkled as he stole some of their fries. Paige slid in next to Iley while Mika took a seat at the end of the table.

“So this is the new kid?” Jackson asked as he and Evie moved into an adjacent booth. “I hear you and Shorty here are an item? Or were at least very cosy in class.”

“Shut the fuck up Jax,” Iley yelled, trying to drown him out and earning a few glares from some of the other customers. Jackson simply smiled and ignored her, attention still on Benkai’l.

“Well? Are you hitting our little dancer?”

“EW!”

“NO!”

The two answers came simultaneously with almost identical looks of disgust. The other teens couldn’t help but laugh.

“She’s my best friend and my sister,” Ben said, squirming a little at the awful thought still in their head. “I love her, but not like that.”

“So that means you’re available then?” Mika said with a salacious smile. Ben shuddered slightly.

“Sorry but I’m not interested.” The blonde flipped her hair and shifted in an attempt to show her cleavage to the other teen, smirking whilst she lowered her voice.

“Are you sure?” She batted her eyes. “If you give me a chance, I’m sure I can make you interested.” Iley couldn’t help but snort a laugh at the look on Ben’s face.

“First off I’m asexual so I’m not just not interested in you, its everyone. And second, no offence, even if I was interested...” They paused, face scrunching up as they tried to think of a nice way to put the next part of their sentence but came up blank. “Sorry but you look like one of my mothers.”

Mika’s jaw dropped as a roar of laughter went around the table. The blonde’s face turned a deep shade of red as she sank back down in her seat. Nate was the first to find a new question.

“Wait, mothers as in plural.”

“Yes,” Ben said slowly, brows furrowed.

“Nice.” Paige reached across the booth and smacked him across the side of the head.

“It's not like that. They’re with my Dads too.”

“Oooh, four parents. They have you beat Iley.”

Another round of laughter filled the table, one Ben managed to join in on. Iley was happy to see her newest friends accepting her oldest one. Though to be fair if they hadn’t, she would have dropped them easily for Ben.

“Can’t believe you guys came here.”

“You were the one who skipped out our usual lunch when there was new gossip to be had.” Iley rolled her eyes at Evie

“I dunno, maybe because I wanted to privately catch up with my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in ten years or spoke to in seven.”

The bickering around the table continued until they had to return to class, and continued still on the walk there. It was too early for Ben to get fully involved but they felt like they had at least been accepted into the group. They were happy to just watch them all interact. Most of all they were happy to watch Iley being so animated and joyful. They were glad she had found that without them. But now they were more than ready to make up for lost time. Starting with some dancing.

#scruffy werewolf (self)#tiny mage (ileyra)#one two step (dancer au)#scattered papers everywhere (drabble)#myths and legend (headcanon)#sit and tinker (self made)

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august-and-clouds · 2 years

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youtube

😊 Henry Lewis Being Delightful 🦈

It's Hen's birthday (the superior Henry) ! Though often softer and less bitter than Jonathan's Oscar, that doesn't mean he can't have his fun with the cast. Enjoy this short compilation of Hen's Oscar moments!

From 'Dress for Danger', 'High Tide School' & 'Hot Swap Buns' - Mischief Movie Night In

Did I mention it's Hen's birthday? IT'S HEN'S BIRTHDAY!!!

#mischief #mischief movie night in #mischief comedy #mischief theatre #he's just so jolly #henry lewis #happy birthday henry lewis #i'm joking we love everyone here #i love that little bit of ellie as conan #shark monologue....a classic #i want to be clear his birthday only commences 4 hours after this is posted but because of wonky timezones i'm posting this earlier #Youtube

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years

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Bells and Roses

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 4.4k

Genre: Smut

Summary: You pay your muse a visit. Or alternatively; you and Jimin haven’t defined a relationship but does it stop you from turning it wild? Lol no.

Warning: Jimin dancing, no real relationship defined, pink! Jimin, a lot of handsy behaviour, fingering, oral (female receiving), riding, sub! Jimin, unprotected sex (be safe kiddos)!

A/N: Happy Birthday, my love, my life, my beautiful Park Jimin! I was inspired for this fic from Cake Waltz! You can listen to it while reading this!

I love feedback!

An idle glance was cast at the delicate chain watch circling your wrist, eyes flickering over the glittery digits before returning to the front of the hall. A hush fell over the murmuring crowds surrounding you, the well-dressed masses shifting and straightening in their plush seats with their eyes drawing to the front as well where the spotlights had been directed.

You waited keenly, the rest of the ambient lights dimming till darkness hid you in its embrace, masking away the slight change in your face, if any occurred.

You, of course, knew it was inevitable. You were an expressive person, some might say a little highly strung, but it was all in a day’s work. You were here to have fun, let loose. Maybe even get another stroke of inspiration but you weren’t going to be specific about it.

This wasn’t about you, not really.

The curtains rose and colors exploded in your vision.

A dusky shade of pink was first, circling spotlights forming a halo upon the wooden stage where stood perfectly posed, curled ballerinas in glittering costumes of the same pink. The pink light dimmed, the ballerinas sinking to the floor with their feet curled behind them, a bow of sorts.

Another light burned, a blinding silver this time, hitting just the edge of the curtains and unbidden, your body lurched forward in anticipation.

The light flickered, building tension as a brush of strings echoed, followed by a deep thrum of beats that pulsed in your blood. It was an unusual combination, mellow, sweet tinkles that contrasted against the sultry bass, sending chills down your back.

The spotlight was back and from it – just as the beat dropped – emerged the reason why you were here, sitting among people who held no delight for you.

The figure threw itself into a spin that had you gasping in concern, feet flying over where a head should be, before landing squarely in the centre of the second spotlight, this time a raging purple. Loose, white shirt that hung around the torso and black tights caught the light, glinting and winking at the audience with its sequins.

No, your delight lay in this, watching the figure unfurl, standing straight and proud, a tilt to his head that had him eyeing the crowd, a particular trance in those orbs that made you bite into the glossed surface of your lip.

The ballerinas moved in synchrony, as they reached up on their toes, a perfect throw arabesque pointing towards the figure of your interest but he still didn’t move, taking his time to study the audience that watched. You sent a silent thanks to the darkness that shielded you because when he was done, he turned his back to the stage before opening the dance with a pirouette, a brush of his fingers trailed onto each dancer that had been turned to him.

You slumped in your seat, chin stuck to your chest as headiness clouded your mind. Your eyes never strayed, fixed on the man that pranced, settled and then took flight (almost literally) on the stage. The bass never seemed to reduce his pace, his feet, encased in white, following the faerie precision of the composition.

The dance was a mix of his contemporary and ballet, the ballerinas more an accessory on the stage, paling next to his vitality but of course you could be biased. It wasn’t like you even saw what the girls and boys in the tutus were doing. Your eyes were fixed on the man who with a roll of his neck, turned a seducer and then as innocent with big glimmering eyes and a too familiar pout.

The music went on, and your delight soared with him.

It was almost too short but it was more than enough for you, overwhelmed as you got to your feet with the rest of the audience when they rose for a standing ovation.

He finished off the dance with an over exaggerated flourish, a mischief that he loved when he knew that he had rendered a mind blowing performance. His head was tilted again, eyes roving.

You could’ve sworn there was a hint of a smirk brewing on his face but there was no way it could’ve been aimed at you. You had shrouded yourself from him exquisitely. He had no business having that smirk on his face.

Park Jimin

The name lay as exquisitely upon your tongue as the finest wine, the sweetest delicacy. Meeting him had been the rarest coincidences, but knowing him now felt like serendipity. You had been a fresh out of college artist, eager with your skill and your degree.

Everything had been lovely until you were prompted to hold your own exhibition in one of your friend’s galleries and you were struck without inspiration. Landscapes…cityscapes…abstract…nothing seemed to fit. Canvases were discarded, paints tossed around, palettes and brushes broken in frustration and quite a few tears shed before an impromptu walk through the city landed you standing dubiously in front of the Theatre.

Slumped in one the same chairs as you had been, you’d laid eyes first on the lead dancer for Calico Dance Academy, the rising star. You had both been much younger back then but even then he had been graceful, sleek like a striking cobra and just as entrancing.

He had basically pried your third eye open with his beauty. So, when you learned that his doors were open for admirers, you knew you had to take your chance.

You gazed at the bouquet in your hand, clasped loosely within your fingers as you studied the flowers.

“How may I help you?”

You flinched at the customary questioned posed to you by the cheerful florist, soft cheeks lifting as she welcomed you to the counter.

“Yes, hi,” you stammered before clearing your throat. “I would like some flowers, please.”

“You’ve come to the right place.” The girl laughed softly, but not deprecatingly, moving to the side so you could see the arrangements behind her. “How would you like them?”

You studied the shelves, moving from the simple collection of a few stems tied neatly together to an extravagant affair of lilies and daffodils, too big for you to carry.

You thought back to the night before and the lapels of the man’s costume.

“Can I customize a bouquet, with sunflowers and roses? And could you add those small bells to it?”

It was relatively easier, finding Jimin’s delivery address and dropping the flowers off. The studio was not too big, considering the academy was still finding itself but Jimin was certainly quick to find you, following you out one day when you were done leaving the flowers at the front desk.

“Hey, you’re the secret admirer.”

You turned to see the beaming man taking quick steps towards you, still in a tight black shirt and leggings that enhanced his thighs. You were surprised to say he was much shorter up front and that much more beautiful.

He smiled at the startled look on your face and you could’ve sworn flowers blossomed from the cracks of the concrete sidewalk.

“You leave me flowers,” he prompted.

You nodded, more for your sake than his as he stuck out his hand. “It’s not much of a point being a secret admirer. Let’s make friends.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Some people would like a secret admirer.” You told him, catching his hand in yours nevertheless.

“Some people would also be creeped out by it but you seem nice. I’m Jimin, and you are…?”

You stared at the expectant look on his face, a part of you itching with some indescribable emotion.

“Y/N,” you managed at last. “I’m Y/N.”

Park Jimin proved to be a great friend. With the most charming disposition, he was also equally brainy. As clichéd as it seemed, he helped you see things that you didn’t in your not so humble artistic perspective. He was a storm, bubbling with gossamer energy and you had never been so grateful to have your life thrown in the path of so impressive a storm.

So, after a soft afternoon spent in the park with ice cream after his practice you popped your question.

“So…you know, I am a painter right?” you asked lightly.

Jimin slurped at his strawberry scoop delicately. “Yup,”

“I was, just thinking, you know, that – if you don’t mind awfully – I could paint…you, I guess.”

Jimin stopped with his tongue still gracing the side of his scoop, his eyes flickering to yours in amazement. “You want to…paint me?” He asked.

You shook yourself a little, ready to save face. “It was just a thought. I mean, you don’t have to even consider it. I know most people get freaked by the thought of getting painted and it’s a whole lot of hassle.”

Jimin cut you off, laughing as he streaked an ice cream soaked finger across your cheek. You squealed in turn, sliding away from him on the seat.

“Stop trying to put me off, Y/N. Of course, I’d model for you. I’d be honored. We can go now; I have all the time in the world.” Jimin leaned in and before you could even register the motion, he’d kissed the line of pink sugar from your skin, popping his lips as he did so, careless and ignorant of the way your eyes lingered on his mouth.

Four hours later, your masterpiece was ready of sorts. Jimin held still the way you told him to, hair fluffed as he stared out your window in one of his somber stage expressions.

“God, Y/N,” Jimin grinned, peering over your shoulder, watching you apply the small shades and contours to his neck and collarbones. You’d yanked his sweater down a little, much to Jimin’s amusement to reveal the sharp bones beforehand. You thanked your insight now; they looked beautiful in the fading evening sunlight.

“Is that a good god or a bad god?” You halted your hand, staring at the picture in trepidation before Jimin laid a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Good, Y/N, I can’t wait to see myself up on your friend’s wall.”

You invited Jimin with your customary selection of flowers, delivered to his house this time, the invitation to the exhibition tucked within the stems.

It seemed Jimin was much more excited about the exhibition because he showed up an hour before you; seeking his picture while you ignorantly mingled, clueless until you spotted a familiar figure, studying the one picture you were responsible for.

“Jimin,” You called the man, his head tilted to the side as he stared at his likeness against the lavender wall.

“Y/N,” he greeted, not looking at you, thankfully because you were blatantly staring at your friend.

You had never had occasion to see Park Jimin in a suit but by god, it was a sight.

Tight black satin clung to his figure, stretching over his shoulders and hugging his waist. “I see you found your picture.” You had to smile.

Jimin turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t know if it’s the lighting or the finishing touches but I do look mighty fine. You picked a fantastic model.”

You shoved at him. “That’s just your ego talking. I have it on good authority that the painting is just fine.”

He pouted at that. “What have I said about the self depreciation, Y/N?” He didn’t wait for an answer, aiming a hopeful look at his own self. “So, when do you need another painting of a hunk?”

It was during the third painting that you and Jimin ended up on your too messy bed. Fast, rough and brilliant, Jimin rolled off of you in a daze, eye glimmering in the shadows.

“If I’d known you felt that good, I’d have jumped on you sooner.” You managed in a huff, causing Jimin to break out in a guffaw that lasted well into the minutes that you took to clean up and slip into a nightgown.

He stayed on his back, gloriously naked with no signs of wanting to pull the comforter up across his body. You stepped cautious when you saw that the light in his eyes had changed, something deeper and serious flickering in them now.

“What’s wrong?” you’d asked.

Jimin was mum for a while before speaking, “I don’t want you to think of this the wrong way.” He said slowly before wincing, realizing the start had been wrong itself.

He sat up, finally tugging on the covers to recover some dignity. “I meant, I don’t want you to think that I’m just into the whole wham-bam-thank you ma’am thing.”

You continued to frown, silence prodding him into further speech.

“I want this, I really do but I don’t know how much time I can devote to you.” He said finally.

You broke out laughing. “Jimin, you know we don’t have to define a relationship just because we slept together one time. We can still be friends.”

“I don’t want to just be friends though. I want to define something, just in case you go and find some other muse.”

It had taken a few days to discuss out terms to define a relationship between you and Jimin. Both of you were busy people, what with your exhibits picking up and needing you to focus on extensive travel while he toured for his own shows.

You didn’t want to look it to face but you knew Jimin was a very attractive man with a healthy amount of libido that needed to go around along his charisma. That was one of the first things you’d brought up; exclusivity. However, your friend turned potential lover had quickly shot the idea down, vehemently stating he would very much appreciate some form of stability, something solid to come back to.

Did that answer any of your questions? No, neither did you manage to put a finger to what exactly it was that Jimin and you were.

However, it did not stop either of you from falling into bed with each other whenever Jimin and you happened to be in the same city.

You were at your florist again; much more upright and sure of your order this time as you smiled at the long term girl friend behind the counter.

“Y/N! It’s been a while.” She greeted, straightening the uniform cap perched on her bleached hair.

“Hey Solji, yes it has.” You agreed, your eyes screening the assortment of flowers.

“I take it the special receiver of the flower is back in town then?” She asked, moving to the usual selection of sunflowers, fresh and dewy, high near the sun.

“How do you know?” you gasped, looking around as Solji smirked, wrapped a pretty blue paper around the roses and sunflowers.

“I’ve been wrapping flowers for a good many years, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of flower givers. You’re timed and only get one particular customization. Of course, he or she is special.” She plucked out a tiny string of small bells before tying the package off.

“Pretty observant, I’ll have to be more careful.”

“Or one day you can just introduce us,” she teased back, cashing you out. The soft giggles followed you a good way as you carried the bouquet towards Jimin’s building.

It had been a few months since Jimin had moved out of the small apartment that he’d had to share with roommates. With the success and acclaim that followed his dancing troupe, he had purchased an apartment of his own, making it easier for you to show up whenever you wanted to.

You deigned to be sneaky about your approach, leaving a small painting of his last performance, on cheap canvas first at his doorstep, sliding it in and ringing the doorbell, quickly concealing yourself in the alcove of the stairs. You watched the door swing open quickly before a head peeked around, looking slyly around before shutting the door again.

You let out a giggle, flitting down again to place the bouquet in front of the door when the door flew open again, nearly scaring you into heart palpitations as you were met by the crinkle eyed grin of none other than Park Jimin.

Clad in baggy grey pants and a pale blue shirt, stood the man who’d been your muse ever since you’d laid eyes on him. As your eyes drifted over his features you fixated on one change that had you gaping.

“Jimin,” you gasped out, “…your hair is pink!”

On his part, he looked sheepish, raising a hand to pat at his head before opening the door wider to let you slide in, swiping the bouquet from your hand and taking a whiff.

“Ah, my favorite,” he sighed, complacent as you looked down the apartment you hadn’t stepped into for months now.

The deep, woody scent of new furniture still lingered, clearly from having been locked ever since he got it and you wondered if you should’ve gotten a bigger bouquet so he could smell something better than varnish.

The sweet bliss of his arms wrapping around you diverted your attention, turning to look up at him.

“I saw your name in the audience listing.” He mumbled, lowering his head to nuzzle within the crook of your neck.

“And hence the smirk,” you realized, placing both hands on his chest. “You knew I was there. And here I thought, I’d surprise you,”

“I always check audience listings in case some company is scouting.” He shrugged before smiling slyly. “So, did someone miss me?”

“Nope,” you shrugged away, walking off to remove your coat, knowing that Jimin was sporting a spectacular pout by now. Such a spoilt baby…

“Ugh, come on, I missed you, you know…pay attention!” He whined, catching you near the couch, back to wrapping his arms around you.

Spinning you around he caught your lips in a nostalgic kiss, scorching in the way his plump petals caressed yours, trying to find a break in your armor.

You let him find it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tugged you closer, a satisfied hum escaping the pair of you, his hand drifting over your waist and back before pulling away.

“I wanted to come back ever since I got on the plane you know,” he told you.

You smiled, remembering the pained expression with which he had dropped your hand, disappearing through security with his eyes returning to you every few seconds.

“I know, I could tell.” You brushed kisses over his jaw line.

He tilted his head back before looking down at you, amber eyes glinting in the afternoon sun beaming into his living room. ��Stay with me.” He whispered, a lull of command in his voice that made the dull ache in your stomach sharpen, keening you towards him.

He raised his eyebrows in a way that told you he knew his effect on you and you allowed him to bask in the knowledge. “I already planned to.” You let him know.

“Good, because I’m taking you to bed and not letting you up until we’re hungry and gross.” He said, not waiting for a reply as he tugged on your hand, leading you further into his home.

You barely had time to glance around the space before Jimin was locking the bedroom door, pressing your bodies up against it and leaning over you. Warm breath wafted over your bottom lip when he brushed his against your tingling skin.

Your hands crept up his back, moving to pink fleece on his head. It must’ve been hard to maintain it without getting it fried completely but the strands felt silky enough with your eyes closed.

Jimin walked backwards, hands drifting down to his shirt and pulling it off and moving to his windows, drawing the shades and casting the room in gloomy lighting.

“Come on then,” he grinned and you followed, pulling at your clothes until they decorated your steps towards him where he sat on his bed, watching you with his lip caught between his teeth. The strip tease probably wasn’t as sexy as you wanted it to be but at least you tried and by the looks of it, it was enough.

Jimin’s hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing with abandon. “I missed your skin, your warmth.” His eyes drifted to you lazily, his fingers moving to the band of your simple underwear. You placed your hands on his shoulders, balancing yourself as he began to tug the garment down your legs, the action even more erotic when he groaned; catching sight of your glistening slit.

Jimin’s thick fingers landed first at your knees, slipping around the back and sliding upwards, his eyes still glued to yours, minutely examining each expression or change that passed over your face. The way you tilted your head back before down again to look at his actions, the small pants; they were only making Jimin harder, wanting to rip into you with wild, wicked intentions. He held control, of course, no need to rush.

His breath hitched when his thumb finally made contact with the apex of your thighs, eyes flashing to the point of contact before up at you again. Was that a hint of apprehension?

“You’re already wet.” He mumbled, your eyes fluttering and cheeks reddening but you held fast to him.

Jimin had clearly been working out. His shoulders were broader; muscles more pronounced at you latched yourself on them while he attended to you in his gentle yet teasing ways.

And then he lowered his mouth…

You were glad that you had had the foresight of grabbing Jimin before because even before those luscious lips touched your skin, you were buckling, a rampant moan escaping you when he carefully parted your slick flesh, exposing your clit to his punishing tongue. Jimin pulled away, his tongue swirling before retreating back.

“I missed your heat.” He said before diving back in.

There were few things in your life that compared to Jimin giving head. Maybe the first time you had seen him naked, his skin glowing but still full, nothing chiseled about him as of then. Now he was harder, his planes more defined but you loved him just as much, the rake of your fingernails still shone the same and your kisses worn with as much pride as he used to.

Jimin was far into you for you to think much ahead. The way his hand migrated to hitch your leg up, placing it on the bed next to him to give him more access before dipping his fingers into you, curving the way he knew he reached your sweet spot, waiting for the groan to be satisfied before he returned to sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue pushing forward so he could collect more of your juices on his tongue.

He barely took a breath, finally pulling away and retracting his fingers from you gently, feeling the tightness of you close on his hand, trying to keep him there.

“Fuck, don’t be greedy, babe. You’ll get what you want.” He chuckled, deep and throaty. His eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown out.

You’d loved that, how he could be so fucked out even when he barely received any pleasure himself.

You removed your hands from his shoulders, studying him carefully. His cheeks were sunk in, a little more angular than you remembered. His biceps bulged where he leant on them, his thighs were thicker. You made a mental note to feed him while you had him here and another to ride his delicious legs while you were at it.

Jimin smiled a little at your scrutiny, “Y/N, what are you thinking?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead reaching up to undo your bra, letting it drop at his feet. “I’m thinking…I want to ride you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped, you could see him clearly swallow before he was nodding. “Yeah, okay, we can make that happen.”

He began to back further onto the bed but you stopped him, placing a hand on his knees to bunch the material of his sweats and tugging at them.

Your lover gave you a wide eyed stare. “Like this?”

Your eyes ran up the newly acquired abs, placing a kiss directly on them. He clenched at the contact. “Like this,” you whispered.

Jimin was quick to lose the sweats at that, eyeing you for further instruction as you flicked your hair behind you, placing a knee on the bed beside his hip and the other on his chest, anchoring yourself as he held himself at the base, angling the tip to brush against your entrance. You sighed, the thrum of his groan as you sat down on him bracing you.

The stretch burned you deliciously, the girth of him sliding against the right spots as you tried to get him in as deep as you could.

Jimin’s back arched, the tips of his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he mumbled unknown, unheard words. His eyes opened to see you kneeling over him.

“Fuck me, please.” He begged, a hint of desperation plaguing him that you couldn’t ignore.

Raising yourself, still using your hands for support, you dropped back down, using his pants of breath as a metronome, your hips gyrating and thrusting in time with him.

Jimin lay obediently still below you, letting you fuck the both of you into a pleasurable oblivion. His skin was starting to collect sheen.

You bent over him, feeling him whimper before bracing himself against the floor and thrust up into your warmth. His hands moved up your back, digging into certain special spots before wrapping into your hair, trapping you against him as you sunk your teeth in his shoulder, hiding cries of pleasure that he could hear anyway.

“Are you close?” He asked, yanking on your hair to look at your face, contorted a little.

“So close,” You arched your back, further pushing your body into his skillful hands.

“Good, me too, I want you to come with me.” Jimin let his hand cup a breast, while the other fell where your bodies connected. His thumbs set to work, rubbing sparks of extra pleasure into your peaking nipple and clit.

You whined, back tilting as your nails dug into his thighs as you exploded on top of him, a similar groan sounding below you as Jimin let go as well.

You felt his seed flood you as you convulsed on him and you probably would’ve toppled over if Jimin hadn’t sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close while he kept thrusting, slowly letting you both come back down to earth.

By the way his hand moved back to your ass, a light squeeze placed on it, you knew you were far from done.

#smutcentralnet #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #park jimin #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts jimin #jimin scenario #bts scenarios #happy birthday jimin #bells and roses

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dionysiandevotee · 4 years

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🎄🍷How to Celebrate Brumalia🍷🎄

Brumalia was a Roman festival in honor of Bacchus, Ceres, and Saturn. It was connected to the winter solstice, from which it took its name (The Winter Solstice is called ‘Bruma’ in Latin). Traditionally it was celebrated starting on the 24th of November and was celebrated until the Saturnalia, which began on December 17th. As a Dionysian, I use Brumalia for as a Dionysian celebration of the winter solstice on December 21st. It draws heavily from Saturnalia, with a similar focus on joy and freedom with a much more common god, Dionysus. Saturn, though much maligned today as a result of his most popular myth being the cannibalism of his children, was a popular god in Roman times. He was, similar to Dionysus, a god of liberation, hospitality, and fertility.

Some modern Dionysians celebrate the Winter Solstice as the birthday of Dionysus. This is an entirely modern tradition, however that isn’t to say it is invalid - we don’t have another day for it.

Ways to celebrate:

Give gifts:

Saturnalia was often accompanied by the giving of gifts. They were often cheap tokens, such as candles and toys. A White Elephant gift exchange, or party favors, work quite well for this.

Send holiday cards:

Saturnalian gift giving was often accompanied by tiny verses, which may have preceded modern greeting cards. Send holiday cards to other pagans who may not have groups to celebrate their religious holidays, wishing happy Yule or happy solstice, to those who could use it.

Wish others “Vives Annos!” which is Latin for “May you live for years!”

A common greeting for Saturnalia is “Io Saturnalia!”, this can be easily adapted into an “Io Brumalia!”

Watch movies:

As Dionysus was honored as a god of theatre in antiquity, many modern worshippers honor him by watching theatre and movies today. Many movie theatres are open on Christmas, if you don’t celebrate anything else on the 25th, but several holiday classics suit Brumalia quite well:

A Christmas Carol

With a very similar moral to the myth of King Midas (Where Dionysus figures quite prominently), the touching story of helping your fellow man has been a favorite for generations. And watch for the Ghost of Christmas Present - the figure seems quite inspired by Dionysus.

Gremlins

For a holiday dedicated to mischief, you can’t go wrong with watching Gremlins. One friendly, furry, creature turns into hundreds of chaotic reptilian hellions. An enjoyable nostalgic flick.

Trading Places

Saturnalia was celebrated with a reversal of roles, and this figures prominently into this holiday flick, where a stock broker and a crook swap places as the result of a bet.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

A combination of role reversals and havoc, this is a holiday class fit for both Christmas and Halloween, so why not Brumalia?

Krampus

Krampus, the beloved alternative to Santa in some pagan homes, makes a frightening appearance in this horror flick.

Others Movies:

Edward Scissorhands

National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Home Alone

Meet Me In St. Louis

Decorate

Pine branches and greenery

Mardi gras beads (Always Dionysian)

Christmas decor

Have a Brumalia Party:

Dress up! During the Saturnalia, Romans wore tunics called cenatoria that were seen as too gaudy for daytime wear. So rather than wear lackluster clothes, have a theme that lets you go wild. Maybe “Sequined Seventies” or “Thrifted Thrills”. Or maybe just have a toga party (ironically the Romans would stop wearing togas during the Saturnalia)

Appoint a Lord or Lady of Misrule (Alt. titles include King/Queen of Fools and Abbot/Abbess of Unreason). At ancient Saturnalias, a ‘King for a Day’ could issue commands that could not be refused. This was carried into Christmas traditions in England as the ‘Lord of Misrule’. They create a chaotic environment that will ensure many stories after the party. (If you want, be sure to establish some ground rules, such as no physical harm or no sexual commands. A surviving command from ancient Kings for a Day was to “Sing Naked!” If that’s the kind of party you and your guests want, go for it.)

Keep a crown or tiara on hand for the Lord or Lady of Misrule to wear, and maybe offer a shot of your favorite liquor to start their coronation

Lectisternium: An ancient Roman tradition,, keep an idol on display for the party, so they can join in on the fun.

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pararennial-archived · 3 years

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— muse layers .

— LAYER 001 : THE OUTSIDE.

NAME : roxanne sadie athanasios. EYE COLOR : cobalt blue. HAIR STYLE / COLOR : long, reaching mid-back. jet black and naturally has a beach wave texture. she rarely straightens it nowadays. depending on her mood, she changes up how she wants to part her hair. HEIGHT : 5′3″ . CLOTHING STYLE : she blends some aesthetic elements together ranging from 90′s grunge, punk, cabincore, and athleisure. so catch her wearing her favourite steve madden boots or doc martens, flannel, nature-inspired jewelry, croptops, skinny jeans, or workout gear. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE : her eyes and her smile. both vibrant and warm.

— LAYER 002 : THE INSIDE.

FEARS : hurting loved ones, letting people down, small spaces, silence, bees and wasps. GUILTY PLEASURE : causing mischief that is harmless but bothersome. BIGGEST PET PEEVE : people who come off as too flirty, or tease/make jokes when they barely know her. AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE : to make the world a better place with what she can do. otherwise, to be happy and keep her loved ones safe.

— LAYER 003 : THOUGHTS.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP : “aw shit here we go again.” but she rises up anyway, has a good stretch, and promptly gets ready for the day. WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST : her friends, family, the future. WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED : depending on how the day went, the outcome of a mission/case. but mostly, getting hyped up for a decent sleep. WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS : her resilience and that she always wants to do what’s best for everybody.

— LAYER 004 : WHAT’S BETTER?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES : either can be fun. TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED : why not both? BEAUTY OR BRAINS : the heart is what matters. DOGS OR CATS : dogs.

— LAYER 005 : DO THEY . . .

LIE : occasionally, mostly because she somewhat lives a double life and needs to keep her work hidden. BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES : sometimes. BELIEVE IN LOVE : yes. WANT SOMEONE : not right now, she will wait. she kept herself out of the dating game deliberately to be her own person.

— LAYER 006 : HAVE THEY EVER . . .

BEEN ON STAGE : yes, in theatre and live performances in her teenage years. DONE DRUGS : never. CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN : in past relationships, yes.

— LAYER 007 : FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR : green. FAVORITE ANIMAL : canines. FAVORITE BOOK : anything written by Thomas King FAVORITE GAME : social games where she gets to play with her friends.

— LAYER 008 : AGE.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE : may 28th. HOW OLD WILL THEY BE : 21 (verse dependent)

— LAYER 009 : FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I LOVE : friends and family. I FEEL : okay. I HIDE : myself from others. I MISS : my old life. I WISH : i can stop keeping myself distant from people.

TAGGED BY : taken from @nosestealer TAGGING : anybody who want to do this!

#‵ *.: ⚘ :.*・❨ 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❩・ ⏤ so open up my sternum ; the only constant is a crutch ‚ the only blessing that i know. ′

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cas-backwards-tie · 5 years

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Pinball & Motels

Clyde Logan x Reader

Prompts: 154: “There’s only one bed...” + 132: “I haven’t slept for four days...”

Warnings: None.

Words: 1,904

A/N: I love cheesy/cliche romantic tropes! Haha, thank you! I love this. You might think the place they visit sounds unrealistic and weird but actually, I visited a place exactly like that this summer! It was super fun. @joeybelle I know you don’t prefer reader inserts, but I hope you enjoy this!

“It’s already three in the morning, Clyde. We’ve still got a long ways to go. I think we should just stop at a motel or something.” Taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at you, he looks drained. Eyelids drooping and the rims of his eyes bloodshot, it would be clear to anyone that the both of you are tired. “I can see what’s up ahead at the next exit and call to make a reservation? Better than showing up and hoping they have rooms.”

“Sure,” Clyde yawned, an obvious sign that this is a needed decision. Driving any further tonight, even with taking turns, is just a reckless idea. Running a hand through his hair, Clyde’s eyes bulge as he tries to wake himself up. His actions make you quietly chuckle, turning down the radio to call a motel you found on Google that’s a few exits down the highway.

Leaning against the counter with a big smile spread across your lips, you wait for Clyde to put the money a customer just gave him into the cash register before he turns back to you, wiping down the counter with a rag. “So...” drawing out the word, your voice laced with a tone of mischievousness. He looks at you, the corners of his lips drawing up into a tiny smile.

“So?” he draws out his words, obviously playing along.

“I know this is kind of random, but I was thinking... road trip: this weekend. What do you say?” Clasping your hands together and standing tall with confidence in your plan, you knew you’d need Clyde’s help regardless of if he wanted to participate.

“A road trip? Like... just, you an’ me?” Smiling, you nod in response. Clyde lets out a short hum before going silent, focusing on the counter as he wipes down the part you’d previously been leaning against. “Where to?”

Slamming the truck’s passenger side door shut as you hop down onto the ground, you glance at the piece of equipment you guys are hauling back to West Virginia. Standing still, Clyde stares at you from the sidewalk. “Are you sure it’s safe to leave this here all night?” Looking from the secured item hidden underneath a tarp you were now grateful he’d suggested bringing, your worried face meets Clydes.

Sighing, Clyde shrugs. “No? But we could at least get a few hours of rest before heading back down the road. Plus, ya already called the front desk. I don’t think they’d be too thrilled to know they’re losin’ a customer when it seems like we’re the only folk here.” Looking around the parking lot, it’s true. The place sure seems deserted, and with the darkness enveloping everything it only furthered the appearance of a ghost town. A brisk breeze sweeps through your dress, a shiver running down your spine. “Come on, it’ll be fine.” Waving for you to follow him, Clyde carries the duffle bag you guys had brought in case of this.

Standing in front of the multipurpose building, you smile in excitement from knowing what’s inside. A gas station, slash restaurant, slash arcade. Who would’ve thunk this to even exist? Whoever it was, you’d claim them a genius.

The left corner of Clyde’s lips curl inward in a frustrated manner. Great. He’s still mad. “You ready?” You ask excitedly, shaking a little to try and get him excited too. After all, he is the reason you’re here. Swiftly turning around and walking toward the door, you look over your shoulder at Clyde in a teasing manner. No way he’ll stay outside the whole time. Plus, you’ll need Clyde’s help to move the item you came for.

The bell hanging by the door chimes as you enter, an older man a few yards away perks up behind the counter, raising his hands with a smile on his face. “You must be the lil’ lady who called about buying one of my ol’ beauties.” Rounding the counter, he approaches with a gentle smile and a welcoming air about him. “An’ you said this is a gift, right? Come on, follow me.” The man puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and the bell chimes again, drawing your attention to it. You were right, of course, Clyde finally decided to join you. Waving him over, he reluctantly makes his way over to you and the old man who’s looking curiously at Clyde.

“This is Clyde, I’m actually buying it for him as a late birthday present!” The man’s mouth forms an ‘O’ as he nods, his smile getting brighter as he motions for Clyde to follow.

“What a sweet surprise! That’s just splendid. I can already tell ya that she’s a keeper,” the man winks at Clyde as you follow him toward the back, passing by arcade machines you’d seen in Dave and Busters awhile back. Walking into the very back room, one of the machines has a sign taped on it claiming it’s off limits. Turning around, he rests his hand on the machine as he rubs the side gently. “I had to put the sign up cause you know how kids are, always fiddlin’ around with stuff that ain’t theirs and causin’ mischief. Gosh, I remember those days. Cheryl and I used to go to the arcade over in Marion and we’d play all afternoon, sometimes we’d go to the drive-in theatre to watch a film. You know how it goes.”

Listening to the man’s thoughts, you smile at the stories he rambles on about. “I’ve got this one here up for sale, and I got three other of em’ in that side room over there. Whichever one ya want, I’ll give it to ya’, same price.”

“Is it okay if we take a look at them?” Wanting Clyde to pick out his present, you were simply happy to partake in this journey and do something nice for your boss and closest friend in Boone County.

“Oh, sure. Go on an’ take a look at em’ all. I’ll even give you some quarters on the house since yer buyin’ one of the machines.” Patting the machine his hand had been resting on, you look over at Clyde with a smile.

The lady at the front desk didn’t seem unfriendly, but most certainly in an unpleasant mood. Maybe she’s tired too. Handing over your credit card, the lady takes it and places a keycard in your hand while returning your card with it. “The room is to your left and at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Breakfast is at five.” Nodding, you both thank the lady and head over to the stairs, making your way to the room.

“Thank you for yer business, Doll. I’ll be right back with the cart so don’t you worry. I hope this does yer bar well, Clyde!” Turning to face the man in question, you lean against the counter waiting for the old man to grab the cart, smiling teasingly at Clyde.

“So? Are you still mad at me?”

Clyde makes a face as he shakes his head, baffled. “What? No. No. I was never mad at you, Y/N.”

“You’re a bad liar, Clyde.” A hearty chuckle escapes you with his failed attempt.

Clyde glares at you, finally relinquishing as a smile spreads across his lips. “Well, I certainly owe ya for goin’ through all this trouble for me. Gettin’ me a pinball machine for the bar… that’s, real sweet of ya’. Thank you.”

Face breaking into a toothed grin, you can’t help but feel the desire to hug him. “You’re welcome. I know we were talking about ways to liven the bar awhiles back, and I knew your birthday was coming up so I thought ‘why not?’ Plus, it wasn’t too too expensive. You can always repay me later, though I don’t expect you too.”

“You don’t expect me too? How come?” Clyde’s brows furrow slightly at the words, hand snaking into his pocket as his body tenses up.

“Clyde- I’m not- I don’t mean it like ‘oh, I don’t think Clyde will pay me back,’” you mimic in a low voice with hands on your hips. “I meant that I don’t really want you to pay me back? I don’t expect that from you. Firstly, it’s a gift, for your birthday. And secondly, you already do enough for me Clyde. You gave me an ally in an unfamiliar place when I needed one. You gave me a job, and now, you, at least- I hope this isn’t too forward- give me friendship.” Hand coming up to rub up and down his arm comfortingly, Clyde relaxes at the touch.

“Mmm… I don’t think that’s too forward. I would’ve considered us friends for awhile now, actually.”

As the old man returns with the cart to help move the pinball machine outside and into the back of the pickup, you mumble quietly to yourself. “That’s good to know.”

Sliding the keycard through the scanner, the door pops open. Pushing into the room, your panic begins to rise. Clyde moves around you to set the duffle bag on the bed before noticing your frozen stance. Glancing back at you, his brows furrow in confusion. “There’s only one bed…”

“Uh…” Clyde’s lips part as his hand comes up to scratch his beard for a moment, taking a glance over at you.

“I-it’s okay. I mean, I thought they told me there was a pull-out couch too, but… this is fine.” Your voice comes out sounding less confident than you’d intended, but then again, could you really be confident in trying to justify sleeping with your boss?

“I-I can go ask for another room if ya’ want? They seem to have plenty open judgin’ by the cars in the lot.”

Shaking your head, you quickly retort, “No… it’s fine, Clyde. I mean, it’s already enough money, and well, it’s just one night, right?”

Nodding his head, Clyde stays silent as he unzips the duffle bag lying in front of him atop the bed. “I suppose… though I promise, I won’t do nothin’, I’m a gentleman.”

“I know, that’s why I don’t mind.” Shrugging, you give him a small, hesitant smile. “Plus, we’re friends, so it’s not too, too weird?” Clyde chuckles at this.

Both of you quickly getting ready for bed, slipping into your respective side of the bed. Facing him, you give him a small smile grateful for the way today went. “This was a good idea. Thanks for doing this, Y/N. I feel like I haven’t slept in four days!” Laughing, you know he’s just being dramatic. Clyde, for as long as you’ve known him, has always been one for dramatics.

“Then it most certainly was a good idea if you’re really that tired!” Both giggling like fools, the pull of sleep starts to draw you in. Settled in bed and content with how the day has gone, you turn off the lamp on the nightstand. “Goodnight Clyde.”

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan #logan lucky #clyde logan drabble #fluff #drabbles #my writing #cheesy #cliche #one bed trope #clyde logan fluff

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