#once again: CANDIDLY. ANGELIC.

[pauli-writes]

warnings: chapter 113 spoilers, sigma gets thrown around, reader was thrown around in the past, there is no brain cell in this

pairing: dazai x reader (x chuuya)

authors note: no thoughts, writing this during my lecture therefore it’s not proof read.

“are you sure it’s a good idea to throw someone around that is unconscious and has a stab wound?”

“you survived it.” dazai replied candidly, his gaze drifting from chuuya to yourself. his tone of voice was chipper, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. he was still concerned about something, but fyodor died in front of all of them, the rest of the agency managed to stop the rest of the decay of angels, so there shouldn’t be anymore causes for concern.

you furrowed your eyebrows at the mention, thinking back to the time where you were actively running around with dazai and chuuya and doing errands for mori. “what? when-“

you were interrupted by a loud thud, you turned your head and saw chuuya standing over a still unconscious sigma. you sometimes forgot how small chuuya was, this sight reminded you if it.

“yeah, i don’t think he’s waking up.” the redhead said, looking at his two companions. dazai sauntered over it him, his eyes landing back on to sigma with a little bit of urgency, like he was almost awaiting him to wake up any second from now.

“no keep going,” he said with a wave of his hand, “it took reader 12 tries to wake up.”

“once again when have i ever-“ you were interrupted once again by the sound of sigma hitting the ground. you let out an exasperated sigh, “this is ridiculous.”

“it’s a true and tried method.” dazai replied, walking back over to you.

“he was stabbed,” you replied slowly, to emphasis your point to both of them, hoping that either one would see your reasoning. “he needs medical attention.”

“he’s fine. he’s not even bleeding anymore.” chuuya spoke up, dropping him once more, leading you to let out another frustrated sigh.

“chuuya-“

“reader trust me,” dazai cut you off, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and a his signature smile on his face. “when was i ever wrong?”

you sighed and dropped your head at the question. he always asked that question, because he knew how you’d reply to it every single time.

“never…” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. you hated it when he was right. you let out an annoyed huff and moved away from dazai and chuuya and turning towards the exit of the room. “fine, i’ll be over there. looking at… i don’t know corpses or something. come get me when something interesting happens or you start making out.”

you started wandering off with a wave of your hand. dazai chuckled at your behaviour, while chuuya only pouted and continued lifting and dropping sigma with his ability.

“don’t wander too far!” dazai shouted after you playfully.

“i’m not a child!” you replied annoyed.

“debatable!” chuuya commented teasingly.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x y/n #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #soukoku x reader

[thats-h0w-th3-light-g3ts-in]

International

Women‘s Day 2024

— To my favorite girls in rock —

This international women’s day is for these two incredible ladies. Immensely talented, candidly beautiful, tremendously underrated. They were trailblazers in their profession. At a time where the rock & pop music scene was dominated by male only bands, such as The Beach Boys or The Beatles, and crowds were bowing to rock-gods such as, Jimmy Page or Roger Daltrey, Christine McVie and Stevie Nicks were right up there with them. Women, as anything else than pretty faces and background singers were scarce in 1970s leading bands. Among Grace Slick, Joan Jett, Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart and of course ABBA‘s leading gals Agnetha and Frida, they were in good company but still leading ladies in rock bands were a rare breed.

Christine Anne Perfect had been in a band called Chicken Shack over in the old country when she married the bassist of Fleetwood Mac and finally joined his band in 1970. After their founding member and frontman had left the band (and in some ways also this universe), the rest of them, consisting of a rhythm section and two guitar players found themselves somewhat lost and in need of a fresh spark. The spark came in the shape of Christine (now McVie) a very talented keyboard player with a soulful, mellow voice who conveniently, had already been living with them, having spattered her talent all over the last album they’d made as an all male blues band. After a while the music scene in Great Britain had developed in a different direction as the Mac, so they decided to try their luck in the land of dreams — the United States. After initially being promised to be back home by christmas, Christine would stay with the band — abroad — for the next 28 years. She would be a driving force and function as the fierce and headstrong but at the same time caring and peacekeeping den mother of the group, captivating countless souls with her love drunken songs.

In 1975 the somewhat unlucky band that was Fleetwood Mac found themselves in need of personell once again. After all of their lead guitarists had either gone insane, joined a cult, were fired for infidelity or left to do their own thing, in particularly that order, the band anew, was missing a crucial part of their lineup leaving them with an uncertain future. Their luck seemed to have turned as a new guitarist was quickly found, only to discover that he came as a package — with a girl.

Stephanie Lynn Nicks was the grand daughter of an understated country singer who took little Stevie on stage when she was only five years old. Having grown up around music, writing songs since she was a teenager, she was trying to make it big with her boyfriend in the city of angels. Her dreamy lyrics and hoarse, rusty voice was a welcome contrast to Christine‘s neat and upbeat love songs and it was soon clear she would fit right in. Even after splitting with the very boyfriend that brought her into the band, she would stay on as the main focalizer and diligent contributor for decades to come.

Both of those women were in their own way unique and oh so contraire but still stuck together, having each others backs. Neither jealousy nor competition seemed to be able to break them apart. They were co-existing in the sometimes toxic but oh so vital eco-system that was Fleetwood Mac forming a symbioses, as friends, keeping each other sane and most importantly alive and kicking — kicking in the glass ceiling that was the male dominated scene of 70s music and thus paving the way for so many talented young girl-singers, songwriters and musicians to come.

Christine once casually stated in an interview upon being asked if she ever felt the got enough credit, that nobody ever really said, ‘thanks for groundbreaking‘, so here it is: Thank you, ladies. Thank you, Christine McVie, queen of the keys and Stevie Nicks, goddess of the stage, for groundbreaking, for being role models in many more ways than just your talent in music. Thanks for sticking up for each other, for lifting each other up instead of taking each other down, for showing us what true and honest sisterhood is all about. Thank you from the bottom of the heart of just another girl out there trying to make it.

#international women's day #christine mcvie #stevie nicks #fleetwood mac #linda ronstadt #agnetha fältskog #anni frid lyngstad #grace slick #patti smith #ann wilson #nancy wilson #rock #women in rock #trailblazer #groundbreaking

[vendettapandav]

John Loves You AU notes

So I'm awake now and I've been seeing this Swap AU concept everywhere, so naturally, I wanted to contribute by bringing my own little interpretation of things to the table ❤️

Big credit to @zzoupz and @salmonandsoup bc they formed the basis for a lot of these ideas and I just wanted to build on some of the concepts bc they are insanely cool and inspiring ✨

John Ward - Charismatic, well-spoken, manipulative, but quite spineless and cowardly otherwise, John is a priest who can’t help but look at the world with scorn. He is of the belief that humanity is irredeemable in its current state. That no amount of prayer and penance can save mankind now. The only way for there to be salvation is for the world to effectively be “reset” by God once more. Much like Noah and his Ark, John feels that it is his mission to gather all those that are still able to be saved and are destined for the new world. Once he has gathered them all in his temple, The Ark, he intends to initiate a ceremony to unleash a “flood of angels” into the world. He believes that God will not be able to ignore such a sign and will “wipe the slate clean,” after which he and his followers will emerge in a new Eden and rebuild the world as God intended. Also, he wields a dagger in the shape of a cross (because that idea is cool as hell and I’m obsessed with it.) His cult features iconography of hoofed animals, especially lambs, goats, and deer.

Lisa Pearson - John’s right-hand woman and chosen “vessel.” If he is Joseph, then she is the Mother Mary of the Cult of the Ark. Having known John since childhood, she had no reason not to trust him when he told her the world would soon end and that he needed her help, especially when he was inaugurated as a priest and claimed: “it was God’s will.” She trusts John wholeheartedly to protect her and save her soul. She is loyal to him and utterly adores him, and she will stubbornly deny that she is with him against her will. She genuinely loves John, and she’s very kind and sweet, and non-hostile, unlike John and the rest of the cult. One should tread lightly though, as she is very perceptive, and she is very much a tattle-tail. Any perceived threat she sees will immediately be reported, and John will respond with full force to defend her. Even if that means having to stab someone himself. She helps John run the abortion clinic and harvest “young, pure souls” to use as messengers to God.

Father Garcia - Garcia is considered the guardian of John’s flock. He’s referred to as the Shepherd by John’s followers, the Angel by John himself, and the Reaper by all outsiders that try to lead his lambs astray. A senior priest, John took advantage of him during the lowest point in his life after the death of his wife. He deceived a grieving Garcia into believing that he could find peace again or perhaps even see her when the world was reborn into a new Eden, and all he had to do was play the role of Shepherd for his flock of chosen ones. Garcia was all too happy to accept in his desperation to find purpose and faith again, gladly taking up arms and fiercely defending John and his cult. He’s a stern, stubborn old man who has bought completely into John’s rhetoric and cannot be swayed, for he has nothing left to lose. He’s former military and he speaks candidly of how he served in Vietnam in particular. He’s also a hunting enthusiast, so he knows his way around traps and guns and will use this knowledge to keep outsiders at bay.

Amy Martin - Displaced just before she turned 18, Amy ended up being taken in by Miriam. Her family and she frequently got into arguments and fights about the fact she worked at an abortion clinic. Her parents threatened to throw her out so Amy went a step ahead and left on her own after they tried placing nonsensical rules and restrictions on her. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as Amy’s family became the first victims of John and his cult after they refused to join his cause. He believed they would be easy to indoctrinate on account of their grief over their lost twins but they resisted. As such, he ended up having them killed and used their corpses as part of a summoning ritual for some “angels.” Amy never learned the truth past the fact that her family was murdered. She’s furious and bitter and demands to be included in Gary’s mission to take down the cult.

Michael Davies - Left in the care of Father Garcia by a family who mistook his albinism for demonic possession, when Garcia joined the cult he brought Michael with him. Michael was originally planned to be used as a vessel; “a mouthpiece for God.” (Aka, he was going to be possessed by a demon.) Somehow, he managed to escape and was offered sanctuary by Miriam until Gary could properly exorcise him. Unfortunately, Gary was unable to do so and Michael ended up escaping their care. Now, Gary’s mission is to find him, free his soul, and destroy John’s cult before they find him first and unknowingly complete the ritual that will open the world to a flood of demons.

Tiffany Robinson - Tiffany is Gary's childhood friend. She was often the only one who stood beside him when others picked on him for his status as a bastard child. As they got older, they stayed very close despite their significant differences. While Gary went on to become a preacher, Tiffany leaned more into news reporting and writing in general and adopted an agnostic mindset. They still spend a lot of time together and she volunteers herself up as his assistant who takes notes for him and helps him edit and practice his sermons while joking around with him.

Gary Miller - Gary is a preacher, albeit not an overly religious one. He takes a more loose and accepting interpretation of the Bible, focusing less on God and more on the stories, encouraging community support and acceptance. His heart is in the right place, but he tends to come off as very cynical and critical of the Church as an organization and holds a bitterness towards established religion due to the way it was shoved down his throat as a child. He’s got a small but devoted following, despite his opinions being unpopular with most. When he’s not at an altar, he’s usually volunteering in the local community. He uses a cane (with a sword in it bc like I said before, I’m OBSESSED with the concept) to get around. While he’s mostly healthy, old age has caught up with him a bit and his left knee is in a sore state on account of an incident with some other kids in his youth that left it damaged. He’s kind, charismatic, a bit snarky and sarcastic with his humor, but overall well-mannered and good-natured.

Miriam Bell - Miriam was a devoted nun for decades before she had Gary. He was an unplanned child for obvious reasons and seeing as termination wasn’t an option (and she would have just been further ostracized for it), she was excommunicated from her church as a nun. This didn’t stop her from loving Gary with all her heart, nor did it stop her from attending a different church with her boy despite the constant rumors and nasty comments about her situation. She was the one who taught him to judge less and be more kind and tolerant. Her only regret is not doing more to protect him from the constant badgering from others who knew he was born out of wedlock. She’s a loving, protective figure in her greater general community and is a bit of a mama bear to all the kids. If you walk into her house, you will notice a lot of handmade dolls, a lot of old jewelry, and a lot of swords to go with the homemade cooking. She teaches self-defense classes on the side, and she still spoils her adult son.

Alu, Roger, Jefferey, Malphas - All powerful demons conjured from Hell to usher in chaos and the end of days, John believes them to be nothing more than angels. He’s summoned them under the thought that they will get God’s attention and serve as witnesses and testimonies as to why the earth should be flooded and purged once more. Tricksters that they are, they are more than happy to go along with his delusions and make demands for “evidence” in the form of sacrifices and ceremonies. He doesn’t realize that they’re not angels, and they’re just fine with that fact.

#yall do your backs hurt from carrying your HUGE BRAINS and the entirety of this fandom <3 #john loves you au #faith airdorf #faith the unholy trinity #faith game #gary miller #john ward #lisa pearson #tiffany robinson #miriam bell #father garcia #amy martin #michael davies

[scotianostra]

Happy 60th Birthday Scottish TV host, actor and entertainer Craig Ferguson.

Ferguson was born in Stobhill Hospital on May 17, 1962 and brought up not far from where I now live in nearby Cumbernauld. He admits to growing up “chubby and bullied” At age sixteen hen left Cumbernauld High School and began an apprenticeship to be an electronics technician at a local factory of American company Burroughs Corporation.

In the early 1980s, Ferguson drummed in punk bands for a few years before working as a bartender led him to Michael Boyd, the artistic director of Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. Boyd talked Ferguson into giving acting a shot, which Ferguson soon did, finding the comedy prong of the art too compelling to ignore. Ferguson soon created an outrageous—and successful—stage character called Bing Hitler. On top of the local success he was experiencing, Ferguson used the experience as a backdrop from which to move into mainstream acting roles.

Craig’s first TV appearance came on an episode of the sci-fi sitcom Red Dwarf in 1988, and it was enough to get him to head overseas to the United States for his first role on American TV. The part was playing a teacher in the pilot episode of High, which starred Gwyneth Paltrow and Zach Braff. The pilot wasn’t picked up, though, and Ferguson headed back to Scotland.

Once back home Ferguson found that roles came sporadically before he landed his own BBC show The Ferguson Theory in 1994 While the sketch comedy show put the funnyman front and centre, it only lasted five episodes.

When Theory was no more, Ferguson packed his bags once again for America. But this time he’d find a lot more success waiting for him than he did years before. When Ferguson joined The Drew Carey Show as Nigel Wick in 1996, his run lasted several seasons and led to the actor becoming a known quantity in the world of U.S. television.

Ferguson’s busy life on TV and the big screen got a lot busier in January 2005, when he took over the late-night comedy series The Late Late Show. Once it found its footing, Ferguson’s show was another hit, earning its first Emmy nomination a year into its run. Mixed in with his work on the show were several high-profile big-screen roles, often voice-over work, in movies like How to Train Your Dragon, Winnie the Pooh and Brave.

Ferguson, who became an American citizen in 2008, is also an author, publishing Between the Bridge and the River American on Purpose and  Riding the Elephant: A Memoir of Altercations, Humiliations, Hallucinations, and Observations..

In April 2014, Ferguson announced he would be leaving The Late Late Show at the end of 2014, with the final episode aired 19 December, Craig  went on to win two Emmys with his new game-show for the same network.

Craig returned to Scotland in 2019, his younger son goes to school in Glasgow and he said in an interview a couple of years ago that he caught Megan, his Vermont-born wife saying “umnae”, for those non-Scots amongst us it means am not! 

In his memoir Riding the Elephant, Ferguson writes candidly about his alcoholism, how his toxic drinking nearly derailed his early career – and is honest enough to take the reader beyond the “happy ever after” moment to set out the challenges of living life in recovery. He has been sober for over 27 years now, and openly admits at his lowest ebb he contemplated taking his own life.

Craig was back in the stand up at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2019. While many Scots might knock Craig Ferguson for what they perceive to be him selling out with his time in the US I personally like the guy and his attitude, as he says:

‘My only ambition is to be authentic, not pandering to someone else’s idea’

Quite right Craig, be your own man. In 2018 he had a guest role in Still Game, in which he played a suave stuntman, he recalls meeting the sitcom’s creators Greg Hemphill and Ford Kiernan in Los Angeles and asking them to write a character for him, he later said;

'And they wrote the part of a phoney prick who comes back from California!’ 

He took that on the chin as he should.

When James Corden revealed that his own tenure on The Late Late Show would end in 2023, Twitter was awash with suggestions that Ferguson come back. Craig took to twitter and said 

Congratulations to @JKCorden on a spectacular run.  Outstanding job! Retirement is awesome.  See you at the bingo. Well done my friend. Xx

I follow him on twitter and liked his reply to  Radio Personality Shorty 

We really need to bring back the Craig Ferguson Show on CBS. @CraigyFerg.

His reply, 

Craig's more recent work includes appearances in the shows Urban Myths and The Hustler, a wee fact you might not know about oor birthday boy is that he was one of the writers of the ITV show Doc Martin, writing 12 episodes for them.

#Scotland #scottish #comedian #actor #entertainer. #tv host #happy birhtday

[taughtcruelty]

“I need you to be patient with me.”

NO ONE SAID THE BEGINNING STAGES OF A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH PEOPLE SHE ONCE DESPISED WOULD BE EASY, but tory supposes making @taughtmercy dinner at the larusso household is a small - but positive - first step towards trying to repair bridges that were never built in the first place. it's a slow process, but a slow process is better than nothing. & awkward, but tory's doing her best not to focus on that part, even if it's prevalent with her interactions with sam & miguel... she finds her interactions with robby are a little more natural, & ethan feels... safe to her, in a way she's never felt before. she's grateful for ethan & robby.

it's like the two boys were the missing parts of her, the parts she didn't realize she was missing until she really got to know them. robby first, then ethan second. the feelings she had for them developed organically, & blossomed. she's never felt this content & this happy before in her life.

she knows that amanda hasn't exactly warmed up to her completely, & she might never. that's fine - while mrs. larusso knows a little more about her life now, tory doesn't expect her girlfriend's mom to act like everything's fine & dandy, or to roll out the red carpet every time she's at the house. it's why tory's usually at ethan's apartment, her enemy-turned-friend-turned-boyfriend having more than enough space to accommodate the five of them. miguel's there now with ethan. she's practically moved in there with ethan & robby at this point. she's even wearing one of ethan's white, freshly ironed dress shirts right now because her selection of shirts is running low. miguel has pretty much followed in robby's footsteps - by that, she means that he's basically moved into ethan's apartment with him & robby.

she thinks she's next on that list, & she's excited for that.

tory tends to cast glances at the alarm systems set up throughout the house, which were put up because of her. again, not that tory blames them for doing that. but staring at the alarm systems has become a bad habit, even if she's not doing it intentionally. her eyes always drift towards the nearest one whenever she gets lost in her own thoughts.

candidly, she's surprised that amanda let her into the house today with nothing more than a slight smile & a quick greeting, before she had to leave with daniel & anthony. it's just them in the house until they return.

tory clears her throat, but she doesn't take her eyes off the pasta she's making herself & sam for dinner. ❝ i'm sorry about my behavior today, sam. ❞ & genuinely, she is. she'd been icing everyone out today at training, her partners included. she'd even yelled at emma, who'd only been trying to help her, which annoyed icarus & charlie big time. neither teen likes it when someone yells at his wife, who is nothing short of angelic. she'd been the first one to welcome her into miyagi-fang. tory felt awful afterwards, & iced everyone out to try & prevent that from happening again. including her boyfriends & girlfriend.

( despite this being her third - nonviolent - visit to the home since she started dating sam, she hasn't gone near the at-home dojo since her fight with sam, & she has no intention to. )

tory's no chef, not in the way ethan is, who can make meals fit for a michelin-starred restaurant, but she knows how to make pasta. almost anything else that requires a stove is out of the question, though, & the simpler meals she makes pale in comparison to ethan's cooking, but food is food, & she wanted to do something nice for her girlfriend. while waiting for the pasta to finish cooking, she glances over at sam's face, trying to gauge how she's feeling right now.

tory turns off the burner. using oven mitts to lift the hot pan, she walks over to the sink & strains the pasta, shaking the strainer out thoroughly once the resulting billow of steam subsides. she carefully puts the pasta back into the pan, beginning to add some butter, mixing that around so it can melt quicker, when suddenly:

❝ i need you to be patient with me. ❞

sam's unprompted words catches the blonde a little off guard. she momentarily freezes in the middle of stirring, suddenly glad that sam can only see her back & not her confused expression. the words cause a sharp stab of guilt to rise in her chest, & it causes her to pause before placing the jar of pasta sauce down louder than she means to. it's because she's surprised, not because she's angry, starting to stir the sauce into the pasta. she takes a few moments to think of how to reply. after sighing lightly, she spins around, facing sam. her expression is understanding, & a little guilt-ridden. that seems to be one emotion she's been feeling a lot of lately. her shoulders slump, & she fidgets with the buttons on the cufflinks of her ethan's shirt, which is far too big on her. she's practically drowning in the fabric, but she feels secure wearing it.

❝ i know. i'm... ❞ she hesitates, an apology burning on the tip of her tongue even though she knows she's apologized to everyone in miyagi-fang more than she can remember, sam especially. she sighs lightly. ❝ i... i don't expect you to be fine immediately now that we're together. we don't live in a fantasy land. ❞ she responds quietly, as if she's trying to diffuse a bomb, breaking eye contact with her AS IF SHE'S WORRIED THIS WILL START A FIGHT BETWEEN THEM. she prays it won't, she's trying to be better not only for her partners, but FOR HERSELF. ❝ i'll be patient with you, if you promise to be patient with me, too. deal , sam ? ❞ tory inquires, lips curling up into a soft smile, keeping her tone light.

#something something love is stored in making meals for someone #taughtmercy #in character. / post season 5. #// long post #tory loves her partners SO MUCH #main verse: cobra kai.

[mirecalemoments01]

#BobBarker #PriceIsRightLegend #RememberingBobBarker #TVIcon

[made-of-ghosts-and-fire]

i think about my best friend who was killed this year, 5 days before my birthday.

i wish i could save him.

part of me feels like it is my fault that he is dead

if only i had done this or that... he could have been saved by my love for him

but that's just it... i was in love with him.

and i was trying to let him go...

I met this guy in high school. I was enamored by him: his confidence, his smile, his laugh, his abilities, who he was... He was a sun to my moon. And I believed that I was the sun to his, also.

In high school, I was extremely religious. I would not wear certain clothes if i believed that it held a certain ungodly meaning. I carried a Bible around with me everywhere I went (as a freshman and maybe as a sophomore, thank god lol that it wasnt in my later years of high school). I tried to convert other kids (my friends) because i truly believed that they could be helped if they grew to become Christian.

And this guy was no exception...

Thanks to him, I enrolled into Band my sophomore year and continued playing the saxophone all throughout the remainder of my high school experience. I look back on pictures of myself now and I can say that I was a bonafide, text-book example of a band geek. I was a geek probably since birth but once I met Tyrone, the cool guitar player with the confidence and dreams of a rock star and the smile and laugh of a fucking angel, a laugh so distinct that it couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's and a smile so perky that his cheeks glistened like balls of muscle that exposed his gorgeous (regular) teeth when he opened his mouth to let out a laugh, I couldn't stop myself from wanting to join band too.

In middle school I was pretty reclusive when it came to extracurricular activities.

I tried to join track. But as soon as my friend stopped going to track practice, so did I. Tyrone, on the other hand, was committed to guitar-playing... I didn't know it at the time, but I had a crush on Tyrone.

I wanted to be like him, confident, strong-willed, smart. But I also wanted to change him.

He was a heathen through-and-through and I was a church-goer. Sexual desires were a sinner's paradise and I was born-again.

Tyrone was so confident, so comfortable making sexual jokes and talking candidly. Meanwhile, I often avoided topics of sex because it made me uncomfortable... But I was so cool with sex. I remember pretending to not act like a virgin. I was cool enough to have conversations about sex anytime I wanted. And I craved the knowledge around sex. I wanted to be sexually up-to-date on everything that could be known concerning sex.

I found this one website (shout out to OhJoySexToy.com for being my sex education teacher when I was a kid in high school. I owe my expertise on sex to the knowledge that those great people shared with the world) that I was OBSESSED with as a kid... It opened my eyes to the world of sexuality gradually and also all at once. I consumed comic after comic once I found out about it.

#to be continued #don't feel like writing anymore about this right now i guess #its a lot to think about but i like to reminisce #ill get back to it another day probably

[clarklovescarole]

March 1936: Quiet Romance

March 4, 1936 – The Alexandria Times Tribune

[I]t has been printed here and other places that Carole Lombard has been going out with Clark Gable since her break with Bob Riskin. But it can’t be an official romance, even supposing they want it to be, because Clark isn’t free yet. Anyway, Carole went to the Santa Anita ball at the Ambassador with J. Waiter Rubin, the director.

March 10, 1936 – The St. Louis Dispatch

Once again motion picture producers are frowning on marriage for young actor and actress employees. The studio higher-ups have the notion that matrimony plays havoc with the popularity of romantic players. … Clark Gable’s bosses have subtly suggested that eligibility is a fine thing for his box office popularity. 

— Carole Lombard was chatting about her secret new boyfriend yesterday. That in itself would indicate that her Robert Riskin romance is dead or dying.

“If he sees me with another man, he bawls me out something fierce,” Carole gushed. She can gush, you know, despite her reputation for utter sophistication. “Then he tells me where to go – an awful place.” 

“And what do you do in return?” someone asked.

“Oh, I just laugh in his face,” candidly admitted Miss Lombard. 

March 9, 1936 – The Los Angeles Times

On the romantic side of the current ledger we find such couples as Isabel Jewell and Henry Wilcoxon, Fred MacMurray and Lillian Lamont, Merle Oberon and David Niven (the latter two couples already having announced engagements), Gertrude Michael and Rouben Mamoulian, Carole Lombard and Robert Riskin and once or twice lately Miss Lombard out with Clark Gable, Madge Evans and Tom Gallery, Jeanette MacDonald and Bob Ritchie, and June Gale and Hoot Gibson.

March 13, 1936 – The New Era

Speaking of Carole Lombard, the latest Hollywood rumor ties her up with Clark Gable. Only natural, I guess, after the clowning they have been doing together. I asked Carole about it recently. “Listen,” she said, “I’m too tired. I’m in no mood to tie up with anybody. I’ve just been through one of those things and I want to play the field for a while. It’s more fun.”

March 16, 1936: Two Hollywood Hostesses

[Excerpt from longer article listing other examples]

… Carole Lombard is another Hollywood hostess who varies her parties from huge gatherings, that are as liable to be held at the beach as at one of the smart hotels, to a congenial group who dine at home with her and spend the evening in good conversation.

Tops for all Hollywood hostesses, both for her charm and graciousness, is Mrs. Rhea Gable, formerly married to Clark Gable. Her select dinner parties are the smartest gatherings that Hollywood knows. And let me add that the local boys and girls mind their conversation, their manners and their gossip in Mrs. Gable’s home. If they don’t, they are mysteriously dropped from her guest list. The result is that she is one of the cinema crowd’s most popular women, and deservedly so.

March 19, 1936 – The Daily Clintonian

Just saw Clark Gable’s Valentine Ford and what a transformation! When Carole Lombard gave it to him, it was a pile of junk. To get the last laugh on her, he sent it to a garage to be rebuilt and then he drove the rejuvenated flivver out to the studio to show it to his fellow workers at MGM. It has a new coat of white paint, chromium cowl sides, extra-size wheels, all sorts of fancy gadgets and a motor stepped up so much that the old 1928 model now fairly flies.

March 20, 1936 – The Honolulu Advertiser

Carole Lombard, of the magic lanterns, has been itemed as C. Gable’s new shadow – but the big rush is really Director Clarence Brown’s beautiful Girl Friday, Marian Spies….

March 26, 1936 – The Deming Headlight

ROMANCE, ROMANCE: Red camellias for Carole Lombard. There’s a romance there, but Hollywood has been unable to learn the name of the man. Each morning during the past week the flowers have arrived on the set where she and Fred MacMurray are making “The Princess Comes Across.”

Some accuse the shy MacMurray. Others speak the name of Clark Gable with rumors have linked the blonde Carole of late. But Carole herself, she just smiles, admitting cautiously that she has found new interest in life and that he is a well-known actor. Apparently she shares the secret with the red camellias only.

If you remember right, this is Miss Lombard’s first popular romance since the death of Russ Colombo, the singer. Your correspondent would like to bet a new hat that these flowers are from Clark Gable. 

March 29, 1936 – Detroit Free Press

Hollywood would try to make you believe that there is a romance between Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. Since his divorce from Rea Gable, Clark has expressed himself as believing in safety in numbers. Some think he would rather go fishing and hunting than spend an evening with the most glamorous of all the glamour girls. 

Hollywood would try to make you believe that there is a romance between Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. Since his divorce from Rea Gable, Clark has expressed himself as believing in safety in numbers. Some think he would rather go fishing and hunting than spend an evening with the most glamorous of all the glamour girls. 

#clark gable #carole lombard #old hollywood #1936

[zpresrun2024]

#Library of Congress #IFTTT

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Flower Crowns

HumanizedSerenity

Summary:

Bright summer days should be spent in the gardens, enjoying the sunlight and admiring the flowers. In the Phantomhive household, that sometimes leads to pondering on the things that matter most. For Nel!

Notes:

For Cennis.

This is story is dedicated to Cennis! I think I managed to fulfill all your requests, though the result is a little unconventional, I hope you enjoy it, though! Hopefully you'll make some sense out of this nonsensical mess. Sorry it's a year late!

Oh! This story is set after the Green Witch arc, but it ignores anything that happened afterwards.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Flower Crowns

Dear Finny and Snake,

When I first decided to write this letter, I debated for a long time on what I should say; it seems that my skills with words will always flee me whenever I feel the need to express my personal feelings openly and candidly. So before I can proceed, I must beg your forgiveness if I digress or stall for time. As necessary as I find this letter to be, it is also incredibly difficult and unnatural for me to expose my emotions to others in such manner. There are certain things that I have never shared with anyone; thoughts and secrets I keep to myself and foolishly hoped to take them to my grave. Time, however, has taught me that sometimes the hardest things to say are the ones that must truly be heard. I've come to realize now that there are things that I need the both of you to know, and so I forced myself to break my vow of silence. However, I do hope once you finish reading this that you will think no differently of me.

The cicadas were singing restlessly. Birds of all varieties would occasionally join in their song, and in the distance the sound of the cool water of the stream that flowed by the Phantomhive estate steadily running its course created the fitting background melody. The sun had decided to give a rare welcoming summer gift, embracing England with its warm rays, allowing no clouds to interrupt its affectionate display. The air was warm, but not overly humid, and the occasional breeze would help spread the distinct scent of grass and flowers, as well as something that was fresh, musky, and indescribably characteristic of the English summer.

Finnian loved days like this. Nothing could compare to the joy he felt when inhaling all those marvelous smells, listening to the birds and cicadas chirping together in a wonderful chorus, as the warmth that radiated constantly from the sky caressed his skin. Even now, as he crawled through the dirt, and the mud wiggled its way under his clipped fingernail, he couldn't contain his smile, his happiness being almost overwhelming.

The outside world. A home. Friends and family. Those were things that #12 would never have dreamed of having, but that Finny could never again live without.

And it was all thanks to the Young Master.

"I think he's gone that way. I can smell him," a voice cut through his thoughts. "Says Wordsworth."

Finny continued to smile as he looked back. Snake, the most recent addition to their family, was also on his hands and knees. Emily and Wordsworth were both circling his neck and shoulders, and his custom made uniform – the one the Young Master had commission especially for him – was now stained with mud, dirt, and grass. No doubt Mister Sebastian would yell at them for that later, but the Young Master would most likely just shrug it off and say it could always be washed, but that in the end it really didn't matter since he was planning on getting them some new clothes anyway.

Snake's handsome features were twisted into something akin to worry and anxiety, his right hand pointing towards the east end of the garden. A boxwood hedge framed the shrubs and flowers (poppies, angel trumpets, baby breaths, andromedras) of numerous colors that occupied the area. Together, they surrounded most of the left side the estate's main garden, separating it from the woods where tall trees stood strong, as if they too took pride in the Phantomhive name. A stone path cut through the arrangement, framed by thick evergreen (boxwood, he reminded himself) leading to Finny's favorite place in the entire world.

"You can smell Oscar from all the way over there?" Finny asked, looking back at his friend. "Even with all the flowers?"

"We have a good nose, and Oscar has a very distinct scent. It makes him easy to find," Snake replied. "Says Wordsworth. He stinks, says Emily."

"Okaaaaaay! We'll trust Wordsworth and Emily, then!"

Finny continued to crawl towards the direction Snake pointed. He stopped before the hedge momentarily before lowering his body further until he lay flat on the ground, ducking his head as he made his way under the bushes, Snake following him close behind. Both kept their eyes alert, gazes searching for the dirt for Oscar.

"This way, right?"

"Yes, his stink is getting stronger," Snake ducked his head, trying to avoid some twigs. "Says Emily."

"Further up ahead we go, then!" Finny lowered his own head, causing his chin to rub on the dirt. "Why do we need to find Oscar anyway? Don't your snakes always come back to you?"

"Black said we have some important guests coming to the manor tonight. He said to have everyone together at all times. Says Wordsworth," Snake's hair got tangled on one of the leaves. Finny stopped and tried to help him. "He said he doesn't want the dinner party to be ruined because the guests saw snakes crawling in the dining room. Says Emily."

"Guests?" Finny blinked, then his eyes widened in realization. "Oh yeah! He told us about it too! Some important people from London, right? Mister Sebastian has been scolding us all day! I wonder who they are?"

"Black said they were –" Snake stopped himself, nose sniffing as he turned his head to the left. "He's just over there! Says Wordsworth."

"Let's go, then!"

They both rushed towards the direction. Finny's smile only seemed to widened as they raced together. Something warm and fuzzy bubbled inside his chest, being released in the form of laughter. They were met with taller hedges of evergreen, ones that surpassed even Mr. Sebastian in height.

"Just over the other side. Says Emily."

Finny stood up. He helped Snake to his feet, before turning towards the hedge. He gently touched the green leaves, searching for the place where it was thinnest. Once found, both servants pushed themselves through the barrier, Finny still smiling while Snake held on to his shirt, a hand at the level of his eye so to protect his face from more assaulting twigs. They pushed and pushed, but finally made it to the other side.

The sun blinded him for a moment. Before his vision could focus again, however, the smell – oh, and what a strong and enchanting smell it was – filled Finny's lungs. He knew immediately where they were.

The Phantomhive rose garden was perhaps the most beautiful place in the world. Bushes of red roses surrounded the area, the contrast between the green and red vividly beautiful. Just behind them, white trellises were covered with more vines that twisted themselves into the holes in a lawless yet beautiful pattern. A curved roof created a small shaded area for the small wooden benches – each fit for two, maybe three people –that were spread around the circular perimeter, the only sitting in the area available the grass part of the garden. The stone pathway that led to this section of the Phantomhive garden was decorated by a white arch with roses that seemed richer in both size and color. In the middle of the garden was an outdoor tea table, made of white metal and composed of swirly design, and a matching set of chairs.

But even though the sight was always beautiful, to Finny, what made it so heavenly breathtaking at the moment was the fact that the Young Master was there.

The fourteen year old boy sat by the tea table, with Oscar comfortably resting on his shoulders just as he did with Snake. His eye was distant as it looked at the roses without seeing really seeing them, it's blue as beautiful as the open sky. His dark bangs, ever so soft, fell elegantly just below his brows having been brushed carefully that very morning. His right hand, both delicate and small, supported his chin, as the long left fingers tapped gently on the table. Clothed in soft blue, the boy's never changing pale skin and small frame made him look perfectly in place when surrounded by his beautiful blood red roses.

It was a beautiful sight. Stunning. One that filled Finny's heart with warmth, for no one would ever be as important to the gardener as that boy was. The Young Master was, after all, more than Finny's boss and family.

He was his savior.

And yet, the blond could not help but think something was amiss. The way the Young Master's gaze seemed far off and distant instead of calculating and alert, the way he hadn't looked up when he and Snake entered the garden, and the way he seemed to almost lean into Oscar's touch, as if the snake's cold scales provided him with some sort of physical comfort, all seemed… Wrong.

It was true that the Young master always had an aura of melancholy to him. As much as Finny tried to ignore it, as much as he wished to deny it, he was not completely blind to the mournful and somber air that the boy he held so dear carried around him. The darkness of his titles – evil nobleman, Queen's watchdog… Even that of the Earl, a noble role he was far too young to undertake – filled the boy with a burden far too heavy for those thin shoulders. It gave him a collar that was simultaneously too large for his young age and too tight in its restrictions, always threatening to choke him. The responsibilities he had, the enemies he made, and the horrors of his past – horrors Finny could not begin to imagine – all created a dark cloak that the was visible to all who bothered to really look at the child.

And yet, there was something different. Usually the Young Master wore that cloak with pride. He twirled around with it, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as he mocked his enemies. The ever present kindness he showed towards the few he cared about made it seem unimportant. The Young master walked with his cloak without any apparent concern or regret, his short temper, his teasing, and his wit demonstrating that its weight and darkness were meaningless, sometimes even helpful. It was something that, despite its sinister nature, was of no concern to Finny, for it never seemed to bother his Young Master.

But now… Now, as Finny watched his Young Master stare at the roses with forlorn melancholy, he could not help but think that perhaps his Young Master had tripped on its hem.

"Y-Young Master…?" he called.

The boy finally turned towards them, calmly. He took in their appearances, eye studying them from head to toe, before giving a small teasing smile.

"You know, the stone path exists for a reason," despite his usual jesting tone, the gardener could not shake off that feeling that something was wrong. "But I suppose the expression 'strolling through the garden' could actually mean walking and crawling where the plants are. Maybe by getting close and personal with the flowers, you get a more intense and rewarding experience."

Snake's face turned red, even though he knew, just as Finny did, that the Young Master meant no offense.

"W-We were looking for Oscar," Snake replied. "Black said to take him back to the manor as soon as possible. Says Emily."

"Sebastian did?" the Young Master blinked. "Whatever for?"

"Because of the guests," Finny replied this time. "Mister Sebastian wants everything to be perfect for tonight's dinner! And it's our duty as Phantomhive servants to make sure of that!"

"He doesn't want for everyone to scare the guests. Says Worsworth."

"The guests?" the Young Master clicked his tongue. "Scare them is the least of what I wish I could do. I'm sure if anything were to happen to the Viscount Druitt tonight I would be doing the rest of England a favor. Maybe they would even give me an award. I certainly would deserve it."

Finny blinked. He was about to say something in response, but the Young Master stood.

"But I supposed he is right in some way. As much as it pains me to play nice to that man, we'll need to be on our best behaviors tonight," the Young Master's eye seemed distant once more. "It is crucial that everything goes perfect, just as Sebastian said."

Oscar slid from the Young Master's shoulder and then made his way back to Snake. The boy headed towards the stone path. He stopped in the archway for a moment before turning towards them.

"I trust you to do your job, and make sure to meet the Phantomhive standard."

"Y-Yes!"

"O-Ofcourse, says Emily."

The Younger Master smiled before turning and walking away.

The idea to write this came to me that day in the garden, a week ago. I know you noticed that I was not at my happiest moods, and I thank you for respecting my privacy and not asking what was on my mind. Truthfully, I cannot tell you the events of that morning, only that Sebastian brought me some news that, although satisfying, made me pounder on many things.

If you knew that your time with someone you cared very dearly for was coming to an end – and you could do nothing to stop it – what would you do? Or rather, what would you say to them? I think about that often, but only on that day did the importance of those questions truly started weigh on my mind.

The gardens always were my mother's favorite place to be in the Phantomhive Estate. My father preferred the library or his study; he would often purposely neglect his duties as the Earl and head of the family in favor of teaching me how to play chess. I greatly enjoyed our time spent together, when he would place me on his lap or on a chair that was far too big for me, and spend hours giving me all of his attention. My father enjoyed the indoors, the books and the board games and the days spent together as a family in the playroom. Those were the things he liked.

But my mother… My mother loved the tall trees and the flowers. Like myself, her health was quite poor, and she spent numerous days, or sometimes even weeks, in the bed she shared with my father, unable to leave the walls of the manor as she rested and recovered. For that reason, she took great pleasure in being out in the sun, appreciating the open air more than any of us. The flowers were her most favorite thing in the world. She cherished them deeply. Some of my fondest memories of her, the one where she smiled the brightest, were spent on that very spot where you saw me that day. She would hold me in her arms and tell me stories, – many of them of her and my father before their marriage, when he was courting her – laughing and smiling as if she had not a care in the world. I remember always thinking that she was always the happiest and the most beautiful during those moments.

I'm very thankful that her precious garden is being taken care of by someone who loves it and appreciates it just as much as she did.

"So it's spelled L-A-V-E-N-D-… Ah, no, that's an M, not an N. I used to confuse them all the time too, so don't worry," Finny gently corrected Snake, one arm wrapped around the footman's shoulder. "Mister Sebastian used to get so angry! It was scary! He was such a strict tutor!"

"Black can really be scary when teaching. I remember it well with Lady Sullivan…" Snake and Finny both shuddered at the memories. "No wonder Smile is always running from his lessons. Says Goethe."

"I think everyone would run if they were in the Young Master's place! Having lessons every day with Mister Sebastian? That must be so hard! Ah, but thinking about it now, I don't think he is afraid of Mister Sebastian!" Finny grinned. "The Young Master isn't afraid of anything, after all!"

"He… He really isn't," Snake smiled softly. "Says Oscar."

With a deep breath, Snake rolled up the long sleeves of his summer uniform – a light linen button up and an even lighter black suit – up to his elbows, hoping to alleviate some of the unusual heat. He reached for the quill once more, returning to his lesson. The grass pricked at his bottom, the shade of the large tree offering little relief from the heat as the three o'clock summer sun beamed down mercilessly on them, the rays of light so bright they were almost blinding. Bugs of all sorts chirped restlessly, as if they, too, were bothered by the heat. The only thing that seemed to promise some comfort was the sound of a nearby stream that coursed through the woods inside the Phantomhive Estate.

Still, despite the fact that the humidity was drenching him in sweat, causing his hair to stick to his forehead and the nape of his neck, Snake found that it was too beautiful of a day to spend indoors. With their main chores done, he and Finny were able to steal away a few moments for themselves, deciding to take advantage of the rare English sun to study. The Phantomhive garden – with its rich green grass, dark brown and moisty dirt, and beautiful flowers Finny cared for with the utmost attention – was the perfect stage for their session. They had walked all the way to the border where the garden met the woods, far enough away from the main house so that the scent of Bard's cooking would not distract them, and yet close enough so they could still see the mansion they now called home.

"So N is the smaller one?" Snake asked. "says Oscar."

"Yep! N is the small one and M is the big one! It's M for Marigold and Mimosa, and N for Narcissus and Nemisia!" Finny nodded. "That's how I remember them!"

"Marigold…? N-Nemi… Nemeh…?"

"They're flowers!" Finny explained.

"There flowers that begin with M and N? Says Goethe."

"Oh, yeah! There are tons!" Finny's eyes seemed to sparkle in that moment. "There are Moonflowers and Morning glories, and also Nightshade, and Nicotiana… And Malvas are really pretty too! Oh, oh! And there's Mahonia, Nas… Nas… Nasturtium! But Monkshood is also one of my favorites! I think we have some of that nearby…! Let me see…!"

Snake smiled gently as the garden turned his head rapidly, eyes wide and searching.

"You know a lot of flowers, don't you? Says Oscar."

Finny ceased to look around, turning to look at Snake instead. He blinked at Snake for a moment before his eager grin turned into a gentle smile. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the sky, his green eyes now distant, but still full of kindness and love.

"Well, yes. When the Young Master found me, he did more than just save my life. He gave me… He gave me everything I never dreamed of. Thanks to him, I became Finny. And… And when he taught me how to grow, when he trusted me with this garden…! The open air, the plants, and all the pretty flowers…! It was all so different from what I knew and… And it all just made me really happy! I promised myself I would learn everything there is to know about gardening! Everything! For the Young Master and the happiness he gave me, I would be the best gardener in the world!" suddenly Finny's smile turned embarrassed, as he lowered his head and scratched the back of his head. "Aaah, I'm not there yet… And I mess up all the time… Still, the flowers are all so pretty… Even though I'm still… Well…"

It was Snake's turn to look around at the garden, noticing all the different types of plants and flowers he couldn't name, blooming beautifully at Smile's garden. They varied in shape and sizes, some bright and loud, others quiet and serene, but all unique, strong, and beautiful.

He took them all in, marveling at how wonderful they looked, how amazingly they smelled when not separated from him by gray iron bars.

"I think you're doing a good job," One of Snake's hands reached for a small, white flower with delicate petals that was growing near the two of them. "Says Goethe."

"You think so? Really?"

Snake nodded, and Finny's grin grew so wide that it looked as if it could rip his face apart.

"Thank you!" he threw his arms around Snake, bringing him closer. Snake blushed, his heart hammering inside his chest. Finny laughed before releasing him, though Snake's heart didn't seem to notice that. "But… But I still have much to learn. Mister Sebastian is the one who does most of the pretty gardening. He fixes all my mistakes, after all."

He paused for a second before continuing.

"Mister Sebastian taught me how to read, but it was only after we started using the flowers that I began to learn," a sigh. "When I first came to the manor, I didn't even have a name. Then, one day, the Young Master showed me a book. He named me after the main character in the story, you see. I promised that day I would protect the Young Master, always. And I also promised myself that I would, one day, be able to read that entire book!

"But it was hard… I couldn't understand much English at first… And the book had so many big words! And Mister Sebastian was so strict, too…! It was then that… That the Young Master came into the room and interrupted our lesson. He didn't say anything, just placed a rose from the gardens on top of my desk and left. I saw him looking at Sebastian, and they… You noticed, right? How sometimes it seems they talk to each other without talking?"

Snake nodded.

"They do it all the time. Says Oscar."

"They do. It's because they understand each other so well! Mister Sebastian and the Young Master are always together, so they always know what they are thinking!" Finny's smile turned bitter. "I… To be honest, I'm kind of jealous."

Snake thought back on that day in the rose garden, when Smile sat all by himself, looking melancholic, his one visible eye so distant. There was something on his mind, something bothering him, but no matter how hard he tried, Snake would never be able to understand what it was. Smile would never trust him with that knowledge, and the walls he put around himself – the ones he only saw crumbling once, when they were in Germany – were too thick for him to see through. Snake knew of only one single person who could read Smile without much effort, to whom those walls were as transparent as the clear water from the stream a few yards into the woods.

He could definitely understand Finny's feeling.

"Mister Sebastian understood what the Young Master meant, and he taught me how to write the name of the flower. Then he chose another one. And another and another… Soon Meirin and I could read and write English!" Finny continued. "It was thanks to Mister Sebastian's great teachings and how he didn't give up on us, but I also think the Young Master helped in his own way. Without his idea, who knows how long it would have taken me to learn! But after I a while I could read The Finnian Cycle without a problem!"

Snake looked at the paper in front of him, examining all the letters forming names of flowers that were all over the garden. He could easily picture Finny sitting in the garden for hours, looking at flowers and spelling their names out loud until he memorized it.

He felt his cheeks heat up, his heart beating just a tad bit faster. The sound of the bugs seemed just a bit louder, and he was suddenly overly aware of Oscar's cool skin hugging his neck. With renewed determination, he reached for the quill once more, rewriting the word, his calligraphy not nearly as shaky as before.

They stayed there for another three minutes before the Smile arrived. He walked calmly towards them, his noble composure proud and perfect. Once upon a time Snake would have seen him walking like that and would have been fooled, just as everyone else was, by his straight posture, his graceful steps, and his cool mask. He would have been taken aback by the boy's beauty and elegance, the urges to look away and to keep staring fighting each other. Smile had that air to him, one that was both captivating and overwhelming, beautiful and alluring, to the point one had to force themselves too look away or else risk spending an eternity simply admiring him.

But that was before. After a little over a year in his service, after spending so much time in his presence and sharing so many adventures, Snake knew Smile well enough to be able to detect signs of a hidden frown, his eye glazed over with boredom.

Snake looked at his letters, and then at the boy he now called Master. His heart skipped another beat at realizing that just as he was learning how to read and understand letters, he was also learning how to read and understand Smile.

"Young Master, welcome home!" Finny called. "How was your trip to the town?"

Smile's features softened, a tiny smile gracing his lips. Joker had always been perceptive, choosing the most suited nicknames.

"Exhausting. I had not realized how many errands Sebastian and I had piled up," he sat down beside them, and only then did Snake realize he carried a bag with him. Before they could ask about it, though, he gave Snake's quill and paper a pointed look before raising an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be easier to do that on a table?"

Snake felt himself blush.

"We thought about it, but the day is so beautiful!" Finny spread his arms out. "It would be a shame to waste it!"

"I suppose it would," Smile nodded. "How are the studies going, Snake?"

"V-very well. Finny is a great teacher. Says Goethe."

Finny grinned.

Smile's his eye turned back towards the writing. "I bet he is," he then turned towards Finny. "Flowers?"

Finny nodded, grin still in place. "They were so useful to me when I was learning, I thought they could help Snake, too!"

Smile's smile this time was a fond one.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I went by the bookstore."

Finally, he reached inside the bag, pulling out a thick, leather-bound book. Instead of turning towards Finny like he had expected, he turned towards Snake instead. It took the young man a moment to realize that Smile was giving him the book.

He blushed again, nearly dropping his quill. With as much care as he could he reached for the book, his hands shaking slightly. It was heavier than he thought, though the feel of the cover beneath his fingers was one he surprisingly enjoyed. Even without opening it he could smell its musky scent, pleasant and yet uncomfortable at the same time, making his nose itch in a funny and unfamiliar way. He shifted his legs, placing the book on top of them, and slowly, with his breath caught on his throat, opened it.

His eyes widened. He could feel Finny peering over his shoulder, but at that moment, he didn't pay his friend much attention. He quickly and carefully began to flip through the pages, his heart speeding up with each turn. Words he didn't recognize or understand were scribbled all over the paper, and alongside them – along with diagrams, anatomical sketches, and charts – were beautifully drawn snakes.

He saw Goethe. And Oscar. And Emily, and Bronte, and Wordsworth, and Keats, As well as Donne, Dan, Wilde, Webster, and many others.

He looked up at Smile, his eyes still wide. The boy, though, wasn't looking at him. His fingers were playing with some flowers he had plucked from around them, a few others sitting upon his lap.

"Finny found it easy to read by learning the names of flowers. He also used that book I gave him, the one of his namesake, to motivate himself," his eye still looked at the flowers on his hands, even as he answered Snake's unspoken question. "They were things that interested him. I figured we could try the same trick with you."

Snake looked down at the book, then at Smile. He was speechless.

"Young Master…!" Finny spoke, and Snake finally remembered that he was also there. He looked at his friend to see his eyes full of admiration and respect.

Snake looked at Smile again. He took in his appearance; that large, blue eye, that small nose, his round cheeks… He was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. He was like a porcelain doll, so fragile and precious. And yet, he was also full of strength, full of pride. While his appearance made him seem easily broken, his stare and his aura radiated power, showing that he was more than capable of protecting those he held dear. There was a deep sadness, a melancholy that somehow filled the boy with wisdom, with empathy, but also with a cold shield that prevented even those who loved him most from approaching him. He was intelligent, cunning, manipulative, and, at times, even cruel. Snake couldn't fault people for calling the boy an Evil Nobleman.

And yet, Snake also knew that Smile could be kind and caring, his gestures and advice, although often given with indifference, spoke far louder than his scowls, sneers, or scolding.

Smile was a boy full of contradiction, full of mysteries, and in this moment, as his hands gingerly touched the pages of his new book, Snake felt a rush of endearment overwhelming him. A strong sense of belonging, a protective urge, and a powerful need. It was the same feeling he felt when the boy first told him to hold his head high, that he didn't need to be ashamed of his appearance. The same feeling he felt during that entire trip, when those creatures followed them and all he could think about was how to keep this tiny noble safe. It was all related to the feeling he felt when Smile's life was in danger in Germany, the hurt he felt when he couldn't approach him, the helplessness of seeing Smile suffer and not be able to help, of seeing him fall down in the woods and being overwhelmed by terror when he thought, for a small second, that Smile wouldn't make it and he would lose the boy forever.

It was the feeling that reminded him why he was a Phantomhive servant.

"I recognized a few of your friends there. Saw Wilde, and Wordsworth. Oscar too," Smile continued, still not looking at them. "Finny can help you learn all the names and help you read the book. I'm curious to see if they have anything there that you don't already know."

Snake felt his cheeks heat up. For some reason, his eyes stung a little. He blinked quickly, finding that they were a little wet.

"T-thank you! Says Wordsworth."

Smile looked at him. He gave him that same smile he had given Finny, just a few moments before. He leaned forward and then placed something on top of Snake's head.

"Just be sure use it well."

He stood up and left, entering the mansion where Black awaited him by the door. Snake stared at him for a few moments before removing the object off his head, and examining it with care.

It was a flower crown.

There are many times, though, when I wonder what she would think of me, if she saw me today. My mother was much like Lizzie; a woman with a kind and gentle heart that saw beauty and wonder in everything; capable of loving even the most disgusting of all dark things. Despite knowing this, I sometimes doubt that even she would be able to care and forgive one as twisted as myself. Sometimes I wonder what I would say to her, if I had the opportunity to see her one more time. If I had known, on my tenth birthday, that that would be the last time I would ever see her, ever feel her arms around me, and ever hear her laugh… What would I have said?

I always try to stop myself from letting my thoughts go farther than that. Maybe it is selfish of me, or maybe it is foolish and juvenile, but I don't like to talk about my parents, much less remember them. As much as I cherished them, as much as I miss them, they are part of the past now. They are part of a life that has long been taken from me, and they knew a me that has long ceased to exist. If they saw me today, I'm certain they would not recognize me as their son.

I doubt they would be able to forgive me for killing the innocent child they loved.

But that doesn't matter anymore. Not really. Whatever was in my past, whatever happened before the fire, before my tenth birthday, and before I met Sebastian, is irrelevant to my life now, and so to give it any thought is to simply waste time. Or at least, that's what I tell myself. Perhaps this is just a lie I repeat over and over to try and dull the ache. Yet still, there are truths to those words; my parents are the past, and the people in my present are the ones that matter.

That day I was thinking about the two of you. In the same scenario where I always pictured my parents, I suddenly replaced them with you. I found myself wondering what I would say to you if I knew our time together was running short.

The question left me feeling conflicted. Despite never giving much thought, never allowing myself to dwell on these things for too long, I still have an idea of what I would say to my mother, and what I would want her to know. But when it comes to the two of you, things become more complicated. There is so much you deserve to know, yet so much I wish to keep hidden. I do not want you think of me any differently then you have in the past. I fear that, if you knew all that there was to know about me, you would hate me as much as I most certainly deserve.

And so you must forgive me, but I will keep some things to myself. These secrets I'll take to my grave, but I hope you will accept the thoughts and feelings expressed in this letter as a form of atonement, for while there are some things that I wish to remain forever a secret, there are others that I've wanted to share, but never had the courage to say it.

I understand that it may seem as if I am contradicting my earlier statement, the one that said I would break my vow of silence and share all of that which should be shared, but even as I wrote that, I already knew that there were things I would omit. It was foolish of me to think I would be able to take all my secrets to my grave, but there are some that I will do anything to make sure will only be known to the demon in hell.

Yes, I am contradicting myself. But I have only fourteen years of age. Isn't that what children do?

So please forgive my childishness, and please forgive my stalling. I will, however, keep part of my promise, and share all that I can.

"Ah, Snake!" Lady Elizabeth looked his way, her voice filled with genuine delight as she called him. "I'm glad we found you! If you are not overly busy, would mind accompanying Sulli-chan and I towards the entrance? Please?"

"Me, my Lady?" he pointed at himself, eyes wide. "Asks Keats"

"Yes, yes!" Lady Elizabeth replied, nodding. "Please?"

Snake looked away, feeling his cheeks flush.

"O-Of course. Says Donne."

Taking a deep breath, he followed the two girls and Mister Wolfram quietly through the manor. The long halls – with pastel colored walls decorated with oil paintings of pastoral sceneries and flowers, as well as expensive vases and sculptures – created an echo for their footsteps as they walked on the hard wood floor. Large windows, framed by velvety purple curtains, allowed for the bright sunlight to illuminate their path, small dust particles lazily dancing in the air.

Lady Elizabeth was wearing a pink dress with a full skirt, with delicate lace patterns and flowers that matched the one that decorated the bow she wore on her head. Lady Sullivan wore a green and black long sleeved dress, and green bows on either side of her short hair. Both girls had their red lips turned upwards, their wide eyes and long eyelashes adding a sense of noble radiance to their beauty, and their unsoiled skins glowing with grace.

It made Snake avert his eye. He felt his cheeks heat up, this time not from embarrassment, but shame.

The first time he met Lady Elizabeth he had been astounded by her beauty. She had walked into the manor with a radiant confidence and a smile that seemed as bright as the sun. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement, joy, and innocence. Her hair, so soft and healthy, looked as if they were made of the thinnest thread of gold, adding an angelic glow to her full curls. The light green dress she wore at the time had been decorated with beautiful bows and a full skirt that bounced with every excited skip. Her skin, rosy and pale, reminded him of Smile's expensive china, her features so delicate they seemed as if they had been sculpted by the greatest of all artists.

Yes, Lady Elizabeth's beauty had stunned him. She was mesmerizing. Her laugh filling whatever room she was in with a joy that made it easy to forget the troubles of the world outside. She was exactly what little girls dreamed of being: beautiful and courteous, fitting the role of a young noble lady to perfection.

But what truly shocked Snake, what caught him by surprise to the point of leaving him speechless, was her kindness.

The moment she walked through the front door, Snake had expected to be on the receiving end of repulsive glares. It was how it always happened, after all. Be it when he was in his cage or together with the circus, high class ladies – and sometimes even some commoners as well – would always shriek at the sight of him and his snakes, their beautiful faces twisting in disgust as they stared at his monstrosity. They hated him at first glance, fearful and suspicious, his ugliness being his greatest sin.

Snake had learned long ago that beautiful people like Lady Elizabeth could never be in the same presence as hideous abominations such as himself.

Not that he could blame them. Despite loving his snakes – feeling nothing but comfort in their cool, scaly touches, and finding beauty in their bright and shiny colors – he knew such traits were not desirable on a human such as himself. No, that wasn't the right word; it's not that it wasn't desirable, it's that it was absolutely despicable. While those features were mesmerizing in his friends, on him, they did nothing but make him into a monster.

Why Smile – easily the most beautiful person Snake had ever seen – kept him around, he couldn't understand.

But just as her fiancée, Lady Elizabeth too, had surprised him. When Smile had first introduced them, instead of a narrowing of the eyes and a wrinkling of the nose, the girl had surprised him by him by starting a friendly conversation, with not even the smallest sign of repulsion.

To know that beautiful people like Smile and Lady Elizabeth were also kind and accepting made Snake's chest bubble with a very familiar warmth.

And it also made his cheeks flush in shame.

"Ah, there it is!" Lady Sullivan said. Snake blinked, only then realizing he had been too lost in his own thoughts to notice that both girls had their green eyes turned towards him. "I told you, didn't I? It's been happening more lately."

"You're right," Lady Elizabeth nodded. "It did happen again."

"What happ— I mean, is something the matter, my Ladies?" Snake turned towards Mister Wolfran, only to see the man shrug his shoulders, his attention fully on pushing Lady Sullivan's wheel chair. "asks Donne."

"Something is clearly wrong," Lady Sullivan crossed her arms.

"Yes, very much so," Lady Elizabeth agreed, her brows frowned, her tone lightly concerned.

"W-What is it?" Snake stopped. "Should I go get Black? Or tell Smile? Asks Donne."

"Don't bother," Lady Sullivan waved her hand, dismissing his questions. "This is not something they can help with."

Snake blinked, even more confused.

"What? But Black can do anything! Says Keats."

"I'm afraid Sulli-chan is right. Sebastian is amazing, but I don't think he could help us with this."

"B-but… How? And what about Smile? Says Keats"

Both girls tried to hold back their laugh.

"Ah, Ciel would be even less helpful, I think!" said Lady Elizabeth. "He wouldn't know what to do."

"He'd be very confused," Lady Sullivan nodded, laughing. "Boys!"

"Confused?" Snake shook his head. "No, that's not possible. Smile can understand everything! He knows everything! Says Donne"

"Not everything," Lady Sullivan said to herself, snickering.

"And certainly not about this," Lady Elizabeth said. "Ciel wouldn't know what to do! No, this is a matter that requires a true lady's intuition!"

Snake was at loss at what to say. His eyes were wide, his breath hitched at his throat. This only seemed to amuse the two girls, who giggled to themselves. Mister Wolfran looked at him with sympathy.

"Lady's intuition? Asks Keats"

"Yes! A true lady knows how to read the mood of every situation! She knows when the people around her are happy and when they are truly satisfied. She also knows how to see past the pleasantries and polite words, so she can know how to fix it!" Lady Elizabeth explained. "She knows when something is bothering those she cares about, and she does her best to learn what is wrong so she make them it better."

"And there is something bothering you," Lady Sullivan concluded.

"And we want to help," Lady Elizabeth said. "We're worried, after all."

Despite their friendly smiles, the two girls eyed him with concern. It made his stomach sink with shame. He wasn't worthy of their worry. Girls as pretty as them should not concern themselves with people like him.

"It's nothing," he shook his head. "Says Donne."

"Liar," Lady Sullivan said.

"Come on, Snake. You can tell us," Lady Elizabeth said. "We're your friends."

His eyes widened at her words. The faces of Joker, Doll, Beast, Dagger, Jumbor, Peter, and Wendy all flashed in his mind. That familiar warmth was back, spreading through his chest.

"Thank you, my Ladies," he said. "But… But you really shouldn't concern yourselves with someone like me. Says Donne"

"Nonsense!" said Lady Sullivan.

"B-But—"

"No 'buts'! We're your friends!"

"Sulli-chan is right, Snake. You're sad. Something is making you sad. And we're worried. We're friends. So don't say stuff like—" Lady Elizabeth's eyes widened. "That's it, isn't it? 'Someone like me'… Is that what's bothering you?"

Snake bit his lower lip. Their stares seemed to gain weight as they looked at him, making his lungs fill with air that, too, magically seemed gain mass. After a few seconds, he could not stand it anymore, and looked down, trying to avoid their gaze.

"What? What is it? Says Keats" Keat's voice sounded tiny, weak. He couldn't even fool Snake.

"Oh, Snake…" Lady Elizabeth took a couple of steps towards the footman, then raised her ungloved hand to touch his cheek. She hesitated when he flinched, her shoulders deflating. Snake's chest sunk with guilt, and he forced himself to relax as her hand finally touched his cheek. The feel was as comforting as the skin of his snakes. "Snake, you really shouldn't let things like this bother you."

"Things like what? I-I don't understand! Says Donne."

"Ah, if only Ciel was this easy to read. If only he were this open about his problems," Lady Elizabeth said, more to herself than to the others, her eyes cast down. "Perhaps then I could be of more use to him. Maybe I would be able to actually help him."

"Lady El—"

"Just Lizzie, Snake. We're friends," she repeated. "And do you really think we care about things like this? About your appearance? Do you think that Ciel cares about it?"

Snake felt that warmth again. His eyes were wide for a mere second before his lips melted into a gentle smiled as he remembered what Smile told him back in the Campania. He repeated those words to himself every day, reminding himself of the honesty and conviction in his master's eye and voice. It was a mantra, one he held dear to his heart, one of the fondest memories he had, and one he used to so to reassure himself that he had a place by Smile's side.

But old believes, believes that were founded in the cruel evidence provided by his past, were hard to let go and sometimes his insecurity would get the best of him.

"I know… I know Smile doesn't care. He told me that before. But…" Snake paused, feeling his cheeks flush even more. "It's not cute. Says Keats."

Lady Eliza—Lizzie shook her head.

"If Ciel cared about cute things, I would have been able to bring his old smile back a long time ago," Lizzie said. "Those things don't matter to him, just like they don't matter to us. I… I can't imagine what you went through before becoming a Phantomhive servant, just as I can't imagine what Ciel went through during that time he was missing. I can't erase it, the pain either of you went through during that time."

Her hand lowered, and she reached for his. Her fingers were long, delicate, soft and gentle. Snake blushed even harder.

"But you helped Ciel and I that time in the ship. And Sulli-chan told me how you helped rescue her from that village in Germany. That's what matters the most to us, Snake. Who you are is what makes us cherish you, is what makes you our friend. All of us; Soma, too," Lizzie's eyes were on their intertwined fingers. She squeezed them reassuringly. "Ciel adores you. It's clear to anyone who sees the two you of you. He cares for you a lot, even if he's not very good at showing. Ciel, he… He keeps everyone at a distance. He doesn't like us to get too close. He's like that to everyone, except Sebastian. But Sebastian… Sebastian is different. I can't explain, but from the moment I saw him, I knew Sebastian and Ciel would always have a connection like no other, that none of us could understand."

Her eyes had become cloudy as she spoke. She shook her head, as if to banish away whatever thoughts had creeped inside her mind.

"But that doesn't matter. Because when Ciel cares about someone, he may not show it through warmth or by letting us stay close, but he does show it through his actions. When Ciel cares about someone, he'll do anything to help them. And I've seen him do that for you," She said. "Trust me, Snake, Ciel adores you. He really does. You wouldn't be here if he didn't. And I think that's what matters most. Don't you?"

Snake looked at her, shocked. His heart was hammering against his chest. He thought of Smile, and of the day he first saw him on the circus. That day felt like so long ago. Then he thought about when he was sick, and how worried Doll was. He remembered sharing a little of that worry, even if he was suspicious of him and Black. The boy had seem so frail, so helpless…

And then he remembered how Smile – tiny Smile, sickly Smile – had looked so big when he offered him his hand, offered him a place by his side, even after he had tried to kill him. He thought of how angelic he looked – beautiful and wise and so melancholic, but also determined and strong – and how, when they locked eyes, he knew he couldn't refuse him. He thought of all the things he gained since then; of his new home, his new friends, of his new family, of Finny, and the moments they all shared together.

He thought about that flower crown Smile had made the day before, and he smiled.

"Yes," Snake agreed. "You're right. Says Keats"

"A lady is always right about the matters like this!"

"Always!" agreed Lady Sullivan.

Lizzie let go of his hands. She walked back towards Lady Sullivan and Mister Wolfran, and they continued to walk.

"Oh, and besides," Lizzie looked back at him. "I think snakes are pretty cute! Especially yours!"

"T-Thank you. Says Donne."

He accompanied them through the entrance hall and waited by the door as the two entered their individual carriages. He watched them leave before closing the door and heading towards the gardens.

There he saw Smile and Finny, sitting at one of the outside tea tables. Smile had his eye turned towards a pile of paper, one of his hands supporting his chin, the other reaching for a tea cup decorated with blue and gold twirls. He didn't seem to be paying much attention as Finny babbled on, his hands moving excitedly.

On top of the gardener's head was a flower crown.

"Ah! Snake!" Finny turned towards him. Smile looked up, as well. "Come join us!"

Snake looked towards Smile. The boy gave him a nod.

Snake ran towards them. That comforting warmth seemed to almost overwhelm him. It was the same warmth he felt when Doll opened the door of his cage, when Joker gave him his name, and Dagger put his arm around his shoulders, telling him jokes as if they were brothers. It was the same warmth he got when Peter and Wendy gave him advice, when Jumbor ruffled his hair, or when Beast would talk to him as she brushed Betty's fur.

And in that moment, he knew that he'd be happy if he could stay by Smile and Finny's side until the day he died.

But unknown to any of them, a figure watched them from the shadows, his red eyes narrowed in displeasure.

Many things changed after the night of my tenth birthday, myself included. Perhaps I was the thing that changed the most. I'm certain if you were to ask Tanaka or Lizzie they would both have their own thoughts and observations about how different I was as a small child. Grief, fear, and horror have such an effect on people; they kill the innocence, destroy the good, and leave you feeling so hopeless and so desperate that you'll hang on to any chance of escape, even if they are as thin as the thread of a spider's web.

When I finally made it back, when I found my spider's thread, I thought I had nothing more to lose. My parents were gone, my innocence lost, my mind and body degraded and defiled to the point where I did not care if I soiled my soul. I wanted one thing, and one thing alone, and nothing would stop me from getting that. I would willingly sacrifice anything, willingly bathe my hands in blood, and sin until even the monsters of the night had nightmares about me. I knew then that I would have to walk a path of darkness, one far darker than that which my own father walked. I knew I would do things that many would find incomprehensible, repulsive… Even evil. As a ten year old, before Sebastian and I had even made it back to the site of my burned home, I knew I had already shed away my radiance, given up on any hope of ever meeting my parents in heaven. And I also knew that I would do things that would make the title of Evil Nobleman seem like an understatement.

And certainly, these four years in which I have served as the Queen's Watchdog have proven my expectations to be correct.

There were things I did not expect, though. Temptations, I guess you could call them. Things that would make me long for a radiance I no longer have, for a purity that was lost and could not ever be regained. Lizzie's unconditional affection, Soma's unexpected friendship, Sieglinde's hungry curiosity and trust in my guidance… As well as your persistent loyalty and care. I was ready for a path of darkness, for a world of shadows and horrors. Care, friendship, trust, and loyalty were things I never thought I would have again.

But I do. You have given me something I had never hoped to gain again, and in return I started to feel things I thought I was incapable of experiencing. This path of shadows that I so readily threw myself in, the one I continue to walk with my head held high, feels less cold than it should. Having the two of you around, sharing my days with you, made the loneliness and the darkness that crept into my heart easier to bear.

Even as I write this I feel stupid. Though my words are honest, the sentiment inside them is hard to express. For so long I both silently embraced these feelings, while outwardly dismissing them as weakness that to finally admit to them, even on paper, is far too embarrassing.

Know that despite this, despite my inability to properly demonstrate my care, it is still there. It is an honest and great care, one reserved only to the two of you, and one that will remain true years after we part.

Finny was still wearing his flower crown the next day. The orange blossoms sat on top of his yellow hair as if they belonged there, like a long lost part of the gardener that had finally been returned to him. He dreaded to think of the day the flowers would wither, losing their beauty. Not that Finny would throw them away. The flower crown was his Young Master's precious gift to him, and even once the petals dried up and stems became too fragile to be touched, he would keep it safe and with him forever.

He didn't have many possessions, but the ones he did had been given to him by the Young Master and Mister Sebastian, and he treasured every single one of them. After having nothing, not even a name, the simplest and smallest of gifts meant the world to Finny. He would never part with them. Not ever.

"What are you smiling about? Says Oscar."

Finny turned to see Snake looking at him with a curious tilt of the head. He hadn't even realized he was smiling until the boy had pointed out, but that only caused his grin to grow wider.

"The Young Master gave me a flower crown!" he pointed towards his head.

Snake's eyes softened, "Yes. I was there when he gave it to you. Says Wordsworth."

"I know! But isn't it pretty! And hey! We match now!" Finny said. "You should wear yours too! Then we could both wear them together while working and we can show the Young Master how much we love his gift!"

Snake looked away. "I… I want to, but Black yelled at me. Says Wordsworth"

Finny resisted the urge to tilt his own head in confusion for fear it would cause the orange blossoms to fall. "Sebastian did?"

Snake nodded. "He said it wasn't according to uniform, and that it could get the mansion dirty," then, after noticing Finny's fallen demeanor, he added "Ah, but I'm sure he won't have any problems with you wearing it! You are mostly in the gardens after all, right? Says Emily."

"You think so?" Finny knew he was pouting despite Snake's reassurance. "I don't want to take it off, but if Mister Sebastian says I have to…"

"You should be fine. Says Oscar."

Finny didn't say anything.

"Really! You work mostly in the gardens anyway. Says Oscar."

"But—"

"Smile certainly won't mind. Says Wordworth,"

Finny blinked, "He won't, will he? Yeah, you're right! Thank you, Snake!"

The footman blushed again, looking away. The flush created a soft red glistening on his scaly skin, creating a mesmerizing affect that Finny found absolutely adorable.

It was sad, really, how Snake had no idea how breathtakingly beautiful he was.

Still, Finny supposed it was a vast improvement from when he had first arrived at their manor. Back then he barely spoke, barely looked any of them in the eye. His shoulders were always rigid and hunched together, his eyes either turned to the floor or to the walls. Often times Finny caught the young man tugging at the sleeves of his uniform, pulling at the hem of his shirt, or crossing his arms as if trying to give himself a hug. He didn't say much to them, answering questions with the bare minimum, even his snakes' voices sounding unsure, hesitant, and defensive, the words coming out as mere mumbles – unless it was Oscar or Emily speaking, of course.

It was clear that they started to see Snake as their family long before he began to return the feeling. It was a gradual progression, one where the changes occurred over the course of months, every step forward accompanied by at least two step backs, the progress made in one week completely lost two weeks later. But progress did come. First he stopped looking away as often, maintaining eye contact far more often, and looking away only when embarrassed. Then, his snakes' voices grew louder, their teasing and biting remarks more frequent, their arguing something Snake finally felt comfortable translating, rather than just keeping it to himself.

The biggest change, though – the one put a stop to backtracking, forcing Snake to just keep walking forward, never to look back – came during the trip he and the Young Master took with Lady Elizabeth and her family.

At first Finny had been envious of Snake. A big part of him wished that the Young Master would have taken him instead. Whenever he was apart from his Young Master he would feel his chest ache, his thoughts always anxious, wondering if he was okay. He trusted Mister Sebastian completely, he knew the man would never allow any harm come to the boy, yet he couldn't stop worrying. The Young Master was always in danger, always at risk, and Finny simply felt better when he could be by his side, when he could feel useful. He couldn't stand the thought of any harm coming to his precious person while he could do nothing to protect him.

But there was also another reason for his envy. More than his precious gifts, the thing Finny treasured the most in his new life was the time he could spend with his Young Master. He loved those afternoons when the Young Master drank his tea outside, he loved the Easter egg hunts, the birthdays they celebrated together, the time they trained Lady Sullivan to meet the Queen, the visits to the city when they went shopping and the Young Master bought them all gifts and indulged them in their curiosity, even as other nobles looked at them funny on the street. Domesticity was something he never had as #12, but that as Finny, he treasured with all his heart. The thought of sailing across the ocean with his Young Master, of seeing the waves, and staying out in the sun… That was a memory Finny wanted to have so badly that he couldn't help but envy Snake for it.

Now, though, he was grateful for it. Perhaps his Young Master had noticed how uncomfortable Snake was around them, how even though he had been embraced as a member of the Phantomhive household, he still couldn't feel like he was part of their family. Maybe by taking only Snake, the Young Master hoped to show him that he was trusted and accepted.

If that had been the case, it certainly worked, because when Snake returned he was far more confident than before, his loyalty to the Young Master as strong as the rest of them.

A loud voice interrupted his musings. The two servants turned to see the Young Master, followed by Soma, exiting the manor to the gardens. The Indian Prince had a pout on his face while he rambled on, one of his hands waving dramatically while the other clung to the Young Master's shirt. The younger boy was scowling, his visible eye rolling as his fists clenched.

Finny chuckled as he watched the two interact.

"I didn't know Prince Soma and Mister Agni were visiting."

"They must have arrived a few minutes ago. Says Wordsworth."

"Probably without any warning, too," Finny said. "No wonder the Young Master is acting like that."

"I think even if Smile knew they were coming, he would be in a bad mood. Says Emily."

"He probably would have arranged a way to leave for the day," Finny laughed. "Mister Sebastian would probably have gone with him."

Snake laughed as well. It was a beautiful sound.

"Still, they're good for him," Finny said, his eyes softening as he turned back to the scene before them. Now Prince Soma had his arms around the Young Master's neck, his head resting on top of the shorter boy. The young earl didn't look nearly as angry as before, a slight annoyance coupled with resignation visible in the way he relaxed under the older prince's touch. "Friends like Prince Soma are good to the Young Master."

The two continued to observe as Prince Soma dragged the Young Master by the hand before stopping in the middle of the garden, a spot where the grass grew thicker and stronger, wide open to the three o'clock sunlight. Then, he sat down, pulling the younger boy with him. The Young Master made a funny face, muttered something that Finny couldn't hear, but remained in place, crossing his legs and leaning back. He gave Prince Soma his full attention.

Finny tried to go back to his duties, but every now and again his eyes would glance back at his Young Master. He couldn't help but stare. Every time he watched his Young Master, so calm and serene, he felt like his own personal sun was lighting up on his chest, the warmth filling him with giddy happiness he didn't even know existed until that night he ran into the young earl while making his escape. It was a feeling beyond descriptions, one that, no matter how many new words he learned, how many books he read, he could never quite find the way to express them. Nothing seemed good enough.

And he would do anything to protect this new happiness. He'd do anything to keep the one most precious to him safe. More than that, though, Finny wanted to repay the Young Master for all he had done for him.

And if he had to spend his entire life trying to do so, he gladly would. Nothing would make him happier.

"I…" Snake began, a little uncertain. Finny looked at him, to see his dear friend blushing, his hands pulling at the sleeves of his uniform. "Is it wrong that I wish for things to stay like this? Says Emily."

"Wrong?" Finny frowned. "Why would it be wrong?"

"Smile has many cases to take care of. And… And I need to search for my family. For Joker and the others. He said he would help me. Says Wordsworth."

Finny nodded, waiting for Snake to proceed. The Young Master respected all of his servants' privacy, never disclosing their past to the others. It had always been up to them how much they shared with each other. It always took time, they never talked about their lives before the Young Master at first, then as they grew closer together, they began to open up, to reveal things about the past that haunted them, but no longer defined them. Those were but the horror that the Young Master had extinguished by giving them a new home, a new family, a new purpose, and his full trust. Those pasts were no longer relevant, they no longer kept them inside cages, shackled by their feet to the agonizing loneliness, the crippling despair that made their chests ache and their throats close, so sore that they could not even scream. They were helpless, broken, with the scent of death and hatred clinging to them until the day that little lord with his butler cloaked in black reached out and gave them his hand. He freed them all from all of it by giving their darkness a purpose while allowing them to walk freely and happily in the light, among beautiful gardens filled with flowers.

Snake, though, was new to their family. He still clung to bits of his past, still thought about it, and shared but the bare minimum. Finny didn't fault him for it, since they all had started in a similar way before. At times, though, he ached to know more about him, to understand Snake's pain better so he could make it all go away, just as the Young Master did with him.

"I know someday I'll find the others again. But whenever I see Smile like he is today," Snake's blush brightened, the color so mesmerizing on top of his skin, glistening under the sun, that Finny had to mentally remind himself to focus on what the other servant was saying. "I can't help but want things to stay like this forever. Says Oscar."

The sun inside Finny's chest growing so big that he thought it would explode.

"I feel the same!" he said. Snake looked at him startled. Perhaps his voice had come out a bit too loud, but that didn't matter. "I feel the exact same way, Snake, so don't feel bad! It's not wrong at all! I… When I see the Young Master relaxed like that, I think 'There's nothing I wouldn't do to make sure he could stay like this forever.' That's what you mean, right?

Snake, still surprised, nodded.

"It's not wrong. The Young Master… He deserves to be happy," Finny said. "He gave us all so much and… And I think it's natural that we want to repay him in whatever way we can."

"It's not just that, though. I…" he looked away . "It's not just that I want him to be happy. I want to be there to see it. I… I want to remain by his side – a-and yours! And Bard's and Meyrin's and Tanaka's – forever. Says… Says Wordsworth."

It was a wonder Finny's insides hadn't melted yet.

"I want that too," unlike before, his voice came out quietly this time, soft and serene. "I want to be with the Young Master forever."

Snake looked at him with a tentative smile.

"Is that so?"

They both jumped. They had been so lost in their conversation that they didn't notice that the Young Master had already retired back to the house, no doubt after Mister Sebastian came to fetch him for something. Prince Soma, though, was still in the gardens, just a few paces away from them.

It was Finny's turn to blush. Prince Soma was standing with his arms crossed, his lips perched, eying them with curiosity and suspicion. Mister Agni stood behind him.

"You want to spend the rest of your lives with Ciel, is that it?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Did I hear it right?"

Snake seemed too terrified to speak, so Finny nodded for the both of them.

"And you never asked my permission for that?"

Finny frowned. "Permission?"

"Yes! My permission! As Ciel's best friend I need to make sure all the people around him are the best they can be to protect him and keep him happy! They need to be good people, and they are only good people if I give them my approval, of course!" Soma nodded, as if agreeing with himself. During his speech his eyes had glanced back at the house, but then went back to eying them. "That's my job as his best friend!"

Finny looked at Snake, who still seemed mortified.

"Lucky for you," Soma went on, not waiting for them to say anything. "I know you two! I was the one who recommended Snake to visit Ciel, after all! He owns me for that! And I've known you, Finny, for a long time! And Agni and I like the two of you. Right, Agni?"

"But of course, your highness!"

"See?" Soma then grinned, and Finny could feel himself relax. "So you're off the hook! I've known you long enough to know that you would never hurt Ciel! Though you still should have asked permission."

Finny almost laughed with relief. "Than—"

"But!" Soma interrupted, pointing at both of them, looking determined. "If the two of you ever hurt Ciel, you'll have to answer to me!"

To my great embarrassment, Meirin and Bard are fully aware of these feelings. They have also expressed their concern over your own, Finny, numerous times. They have shown great fondness towards you as well, Snake, even though you have only been with them for a short time. Despite their incompetence as maid and chef, Meirin and Bard are both great and perceptive people whom I am proud to call my servants.

They are truly worthy of the Phantomhive name. As are you.

As with Meirin and Bard, I am proud to call the two of you my servants. I am proud that I have you by my side, and I am proud of how much you have grown since becoming a part of the Phantomhive household. But most of all, I am proud of the trust I can place in you, and that when needed, I know without a shred of doubt that you will be by my side, ready to obey my orders and protect me without question.

It is only appropriate that you should know, then, that I would do the same for you. I may not be strong or fast, but I have my wits and I know how to use a gun when it is required. I may be very young and my health may be very weak, but I would also like to believe that I am capable of protecting myself and those who are dear to me, even if my methods would not be considered entirely orthodox, honorable, or legal. However, as long as it achieves my goals, and as long as it protects myself and those who are dear to me, I care little for any of those things. Rest assure, then, that I will always do whatever is in my power to keep the two of you, as well as Tanaka, Meirin, and Bard, safe and comfortable until the remainder of your lives. I will also do all that is possible so that you can remain together, always, for I would never dare to destroy the family you found in each other.

No matter what happens, know that I have not forgotten you.

Snake looked out the window, his eyes following the clouds gently floating in the sky. There were only a few of them, soft and fluffy looking, round and small, with wispy tails that resembled still smoke. The sun shone brightly, as it had for the past four days, still warding off the familiar English rain.

Years ago he would never thought he'd be able to enjoy days like this, that he'd look at such a beautiful blue sky sprinkled with soft clouds from behind a window in a manor, rather than the bars in his cage. He'd never thought he would be able to dress in such fine tailored clothes, that he'd be allowed to walk freely in such a beautiful garden, feeling the warmth of the sun, and enjoying the presence of those who were precious to him.

Years ago, he would never have thought anyone would have been precious to him.

Those were dark times for him. He knew of nothing but his cold cage, and the laughter and horrified gasps of those who stood outside of it. He remembered curling into himself, closing his eyes and hoping it would all go away, withdrawing, allowing his mind to drift until nothing existed.

Nothingness, he would tell himself, was better than the loneliness and the despair he felt.

And yet, it still lingered. No matter how hard he had tried to push it away, it snuck up on him, crawling towards him until it was all he could feel. The laughter would ring in his ears long into the night when he laid down and looked at the starts, marveling at their beauty. Then he would remember the horror, the jests, the way kids screamed when they looked at him, and how some people would reach and poke at his skin.

"How ugly" they would say.

"What an awful creature" others would comment.

"Mommy, I'm scared!" a little girl would cry.

"So hideous! So disgusting!" some would shout.

"How could God create such a monster?"

When he remembered those words Snake would turn his back towards the beautiful stars, while tears prickled at his eyes.

When Joker and the others found him and welcomed him into their family, Snake was happy for the first time in his life. He loved his snakes, his only friends and companions for most of his life until that point, but the acceptance and affection he got from the other members of the circus was something he never thought he would ever have. It was something he was certain he didn't deserve.

Having his first family ripped away from him and disappearing like that… Even now Snake's heart still clenched at the thought. He missed them. He missed them terribly, every day longing to see their faces again. That morning they didn't return, he had been overwhelmed by a suffocating loneliness.

But now it was gone. Now he had Bard, Tanaka, and Meirin. He also had Black, and Lady Elizabeth, Lady Sullivan, and even Prince Soma and Mister Agni.

Most importantly, though, he had Finny and Smile.

"You're thinking about them again."

Snake turned around to find Smile standing behind him. His dark blue coat – one the footman remembered seeing Miss Nina sketch out a few months prior – matched his eye perfectly. It complimented the white shirt and the black pants perfectly. Smile's head was tilted to one side, his chin slightly raised as his eye studied him.

"W-what do you mean? Says Webster."

"You were thinking about Joker and the others," Smile's tone and face betrayed no emotion. "You get this look on your face when you are thinking about them."

"I… I didn't know," he looks away, his cheeks heated. "Says Bronte."

Smile regarded silently for a moment. "Do you miss them?"

Snake hesitated. Then, after a few moments, he lifted his head again, eyes meeting Smile's. He found no pity in that stare, no harshness, no accusation… Only curiosity.

"They were my first family. Before I met them, I… I didn't dare to even dream of ever being free, or of ever living happily with other people," Snake said. "They did so much for me, but I failed them. Says Bronte."

"Failed them?" Smile rose one of his eyebrows. "How have you failed them?"

Snake didn't answer right away.

"I… I knew they were going out. They did it many times before, but they never told why. I knew something that night felt different, but I didn't try to stop them," in his mind, he could see all of them, smiling as they talked, Jumbor giving a pat on the back, Peter giving him instructions with a scowl on his face while Wendy looked at him with what he could only describe as a motherly gaze. He could see Beast approaching his snakes, the only one who ever had the courage to let them crawl up her arms and wrap themselves around her shoulders, and he could see Dagger telling a joke and trying to get him to smile. He could very clearly see and feel Freckles pulling him to the tables so he wouldn't be late for lunch. He could also see Joker, his smile always in place, cheerful, even though his eyes were the saddest one Snake had ever seen. "If I had stopped them… Then maybe they wouldn't have disappeared. Says Bronte."

"You said they did it before, right?" Smile waited until Snake nodded to continue "Then you couldn't have known that they wouldn't come back. It was out of your hands. They kept those things a secret from you, told you to not get involved. You didn't fail them, you simply obeyed their wishes. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But—"

"Besides, feeling guilty and blaming yourself won't do you any good. It certainly won't bring them back," something changed in Smile's eye when he said that. A small flicker of sadness, there in an instant and then gone just as fast as it had appeared. "We'll find them. Together we'll find out what happened to them and bring them back. Isn't that what you want?"

Snake thought on the conversation he had with Finny the day before, when Prince Soma had come to visit. He thought about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life by Smile and Finny's side, how now that he knew them, he couldn't imagine being apart from them.

But he also thought about Joker and the others. His first family, the first people to ever show him any kindness.

How wonderful would it be for his two families to combine and become one?

"I do," Snake nodded. "Says Webster."

Smile nodded as well "Good."

They stayed quiet for a moment, before Snake spoke again. "They will love it here. Says Webster. They will like Finny and the others too, says Bronte."

Snake's eyes widened when the words came out of his mouth. Suddenly, he was worried, his heart hammering, but not in the pleasant way he had grown accustomed to. He started to mentally curse himself. How could he be so stupid? So careless with his words? Just because Smile said he would help him find them, it didn't mean they would be allowed into the Phantomhive manor.

He started to apologize, but Smile spoke up, silencing him.

"You think so?" If he thought Snake's comment was strange or inappropriate, he did not show it. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "I didn't think they would. I certainly thought they wouldn't like me, after all that happened. But I don't know them as well as you did."

"They are good people. Says Bronte."

Smile nodded, and once again, something flickered in his eye again; something that was akin to sadness. "I know."

They fell into another silence. Snake took the time to once again study Smile, taking in the appearance of the young boy. He remembered his thoughts when he first laid eyes on him, when Black brought him into the tryouts. He seemed so small and fragile, so tiny, but so incredibly beautiful. Even Joker and Dagger had been stunned.

Snake had watched everything silently from a distance. He had been awed and amazed that someone as beautiful as Smile could exist in the same world as someone as hideous as himself. And just like he did with Lady Elizabeth, Snake had wondered if Smile would look at him with horror and disgust.

Now he only felt bad for ever thinking his precious master could be that shallow.

"Young Master."

Black's voice came from down the hall. Both earl and footman turned to find the perfect butler standing there, his red eyes looking at them with cold harshness, the shadows covering his face and shoulders, adding to the natural eeriness that always surrounded the perfect butler. Snake fixed his posture on reflex, not realizing how at ease and comfortable he had become in the presence of Smile until his Black's presence reminded him of his status and all the teachings that had been bestow on him since he'd been welcomed into the Phantomhive household.

"What is it, Sebastian?" Smile moved away from the wall, his full attention now on Black.

"I have the documents you asked for," just then, Snake noticed that Black carried a stack of papers with him. "They are related to that case, my Lord."

Smile's eye widened. He then nodded. "Take them to my study. We'll look at them there, right away."

"Yes, my lord."

Smile gave Snake a simple nod of dismissal before turning his back towards him, walking towards Black.

"C-Case?" Snake spoke before he could stop himself. When both Smile and Black turned towards him, moving with a synchrony that would have left Peter and Wendy envious, he felt his cheeks flush. "S-says Webster."

"It's not really a case for the Queen. It's something more… Personal," Smile explained. "No need to concern yourself with it. Now, if you'll excuse me, Snake."

Both earl and butler quickly disappeared into the shadows of the hallway. Snake remained in place for a few moments, and then, when he could no longer hear their footsteps, turned towards the opposite direction, towards the sunlit garden, where Finny awaited him for his writing lessons.

Quite a sentimental thought, isn't it? It is strange, unnatural, even, for me to lay out my emotions so candidly on paper. I cringe at my own words, embarrassed and yet still very unsatisfied. I am conflicted; I feel – to put it simply – uncomfortable at seeing my feelings written quite so plainly, yet I also feel as if what I have written is not enough. Glancing up above it seems I repeat myself a lot, dance around the subject, and end up writing a whole lot of nothing. Just a pile of repetitive nonsense that barely scratches the surface of all the thoughts I wished to express. I am doing the exact same thing I have always hated; skirting around what needs to be said, avoiding the point…

It's certainly is ironic, isn't it?

Yet I continue doing it; avoiding the subject as I force myself to write this. By now you must be wondering why this pathetic excuse for a letter is even necessary. I could never explain to you the reason, only that it is related to the news Sebastian brought me that day, and the personal case I began to investigate since. I believe that soon enough you will have your own suspicions, and though there may be a smudge of truth in your future theories, reality is far darker than you could ever imagine. And that is fine. This is the truth that neither you, nor anyone else, must ever know. It is one of those truths that will die with me.

The sentiments that I am trying to express, however, are not. I would hardly be able to put an end to this without having said these things, and this, I'm afraid, is my only opportunity to do so.

And yet I am awful with sentiments. I wanted to show you my profound gratitude and appreciation. Has it come across properly, I wonder?

I doubt it. If it has, then it probably doesn't sound like me at all. I am not, as I keep saying, one for sentimentalities and honesty. Those are not traits that suit me, nor are they traits that I see in myself, which is perhaps why this letter is so hard to write. Though the words and sentiments are certainly mine, I cannot see myself saying any of these things. Maybe it's because it makes me weak, or because it makes me vulnerable… Or maybe it's simply because it has been so long since I've allowed myself to be this open about my emotions. Being open, being vulnerable, and basking on sentimentalities are luxuries that I cannot allow myself to have, even within the walls of my own home. They were things I shed away during that month long ago, and things I have not allowed myself to experience since then, for they have no place in the path I walk. They would only slow me down, make my goals harder to achieve, and those are things that I would never allow to happen. Sacrificing these luxuries made this path harder and lonelier to walk, but I do not regret it for a second.

But now, I realize that it has been so long since I've been candid about these matters, that to simply speak of them feels unnatural.

"Just what are you two doing?"

Finny and Snake looked up to see their Young Master staring at them, his right hand on his hip, his expression nurturing a half-hearted scowl, and his visible eye staring at them with curiosity. A little over one dozen orange blossoms were scattered on the grass where the two servants sat, their legs crossed and three flowers in each of their hands.

The sound of cicadas filled the silence. There were a few clouds in the sky, battling against the sunrays in order to protect the English from the unusual warm week they were having. After five days of constant sunlight and humidity, it seemed like the familiar grayness and rain were finally returning home from their long trip abroad.

"Well?" despite his words and expression, there was no malice, no real harshness in the Young Master's voice.

Finny raised his hands, showing the flowers.

"We're making flower crowns!"

"Is that so?" the Young Master only raised an eyebrow.

"We wanted to make one like the ones you did. Says Oscar."

"They are all so pretty! We wanted to see if we could make some of our own," Finny said. "We're not very good, though."

"I can see that," the Young Master said. He seemed to be fighting back a small smile. "Do you even know how to make them?"

Finny and Snake looked at each other, then at the Young Master. That seemed to be enough of an answer for him.

"Move over," he shook his head, finally losing the battle against his smile. "I'll show you how to do it."

Finny beamed at him. Both servants shifted themselves so the Young Master could sit in front of the flowers. The boy did not hesitate to sit on the grass with his custom made clothes. A talk tree with thin branches that stretched high in the sky provided them with the shade from the bright sun rays that peaked from the cloud, making their task easier to see.

The gardener's heart seemed ready to burst with warmth, his cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

The Young Master was surprisingly patient as he taught them. He started out by picking three of the orange blossoms, explaining why they needed to have long stems, and then showing them how two braid the flowers together. Then he showed them how to add another flower before finishing the first braid, and how they had to hold two stems together as one and continue the braiding process, adding more and more flowers as they went along.

Soon, as Finny and Snake grew more confident in their task, the three fell into a comfortable silence. Finny bit his lower lip, trying his hardest to move his fingers and hands gently so not to destroy the flowers. It was hard, he was certainly moving slower than the Young Master and Snake, but as soon as the crown started to take shape, he found that his hands grew more certain, and that it became easier and easier to control his strength.

Yet again the Young Master was showing him how to create something beautiful; showing him that his hands could do more than just destroy.

He couldn't begin to imagine how he could ever repay him.

"I never imagined the Young Master would know how to make something like this," Finny said, his tone soft, but holding all the admiration he held towards the boy.

"It's not like you," Snake agreed. "says Goethe."

The Young Master picked another flower from the pile in the middle, easily working it into his beautiful crown.

"I don't suppose it is," he said. "I don't think I've made one in years."

"How did you learn it?" Finny asked.

The Young Master's hands stopped. His eye was still looking at his crown, but his gaze seemed distant, his shoulders no longer in their usual straight and perfect posture.

Finny and Snake both stopped what they were doing. Finny frowned, task forgotten. He looked at the Young Master, wondering what he had done wrong, and what he could do to make the boy smile again.

"My mother taught me," he finally said.

Finny blinked, nearly dropping the crown. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched a small, melancholic, and longing smile form in the Young Master's lips.

This was the first time the gardener had ever heard the Young Master talk about his parents. It certainly was the first time he ever heard him say the words "my mother".

He remembered their time in Germany, and how the Young Master had been so terrified, relieving a nightmare none of them could even begin comprehend. The Young Master was always so strong, so brave, and so intelligent… Sometimes Finny forgot that he, too, had suffered in his past, and that his own parents had been cruelly taken from him not too long ago.

"Her health was poor, just like mine," Ciel continued. "For that reason, she could never play with Lizzie and I, when we went outside. My aunt Ann was the one who played with us, while my mother sat at the tea tables, or under the trees, and watched. Her favorite place was the rose gardens, actually. I always knew she wanted to play with us, but she never seemed fazed by the fact that she couldn't."

There was a tenderness and fondness to the Young Master's voice that Finny had never heard it before. It was as if with each word, the young earl was further transported into his memories, reliving those days with his aunt and mother. Finny could almost picture it: the Young Master, with round and puffy baby cheeks, running around, playing with a bright a smile on his face while the Lady Phantomhive watched.

"She used to make them for us," The Young Master continued. "She would always sit close to the flowers and make them for Lizzie, aunt Ann, and I. Once she also made one for our dog, one for Tanaka, and even for my father and Diedrich," he chuckled. "My father would always do anything to make my mother happy, so he had no problem wearing them. And Diedrich… Well, he could never say no to her. No one could. My father always had trouble getting Diedrich to go along with ideas, but all my mother had to do was ask him once, and he'd do it. Father always complained it was unfair. Diedrich was supposed to be his German dog, he would say. But mother would laugh and say Diedrich was not his dog, but her puppy. Diedrich never once said she was wrong."

His fingers started working again, moving with expertise.

"One day, when it was just the two of us, she taught me how to make them. I was sitting on her lap, and she had her arms wrapped around me, and she helped me make one. We gave it to my father, and he kept it in his study, close to his chessboard. Then I taught Lizzie, and after that, there were times when instead of playing, Lizzie, aunt Ann, and I would sit together with mother and make them. We always made sure to keep them in the greenhouse or in the drawing room."

He stopped again. His smile was gone. His eye narrowed, his gaze hardened.

"I guess they all burned in the fire. Along with everything else."

He stood up, suddenly, tossing the unfinished crown in the pile of flowers. Finny looked up to find that the mask of Earl Phantomhive was back in place, his lips turned down, his posture perfectly straight, and his eye cold.

"I have matters I need to discuss with Sebastian. Make sure to clean this up, once you're done. Excuse me."

He turned and walked back into the mansion, where Mister Sebastian waited for him by the door.

Sentimental as it may be, and as unnatural as it is for me to admit it, your companionship brought something to my life that I did not think myself capable or even worthy of ever experiencing. Amongst all the evil I have done, the wrongs I have done – and would still do it again despite how disgusted I feel towards myself because of it – it was great to know that I could provide you with some sort of happiness and comfort.

And in return I gained far, far more than I ever deserved. And as selfish as it is, I'll greedily take your loyalty, your friendship, and all you have to offer, even as I walk farther and farther away from your light.

The light is not where I belong. At least not anymore. I'm not even sure I ever belonged there in the first place. Certainly someone as twisted as I am could not have been a simple piece of clay molded by the devil; certainly my wickedness is within my core, something that I always had and it was merely exposed when I was broken, like the interior of a crystal.

Yes, that must be the case. The light was never my home, never a place where I could dwell on. Yet those dearest to me – from my parents and Tanaka, to Lizzie and Edward, to Soma and Siegliende, Bard and Meirin, and the two of you – are people of great radiance. But with every decision I make, I can feel myself getting farther and farther away from you. I do not regret said decisions, but I will shamelessly continue to take all you have to offer even as I turn my back on you.

It is wrong, I know. Unfair. Immoral. Contradictory. But I do not care. This is who I am, and I am not ashamed of it. My darkness is all I have left, after all.

My only wish was that I could, in some way, repay you back for all you have done for me. The preparations I made simply don't feel like they are enough.

There were a few more clouds in the sky that day. A cool breeze relieved England of the heat that had plagued its lands for the past week. Still, with no rain in sight, Lady Elizabeth, Lady Sullivan, and Prince Soma enjoyed tea in the Phantomhive rose garden as they waited for the little Earl and his loyal butler to return from an errand.

On top of the table were snacks – English, German, and Indian, accompanied by tea and lemonade – that Bard, Mister Wolfran, and Mister Agni had prepared for the trio. They talked happily, smiling, laughing as they exchanged stories; Prince Soma's hands waved wildly as he spoke, Lady Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with excitement, and Lady Sullivan leaned forward in interest, clinging to every word that widened her previously narrow world.

It all brought a smile to Finny's lips. He couldn't make out their conversation, being so far away from them, but the energy and happiness that the Young Master's friends emitted was strong, vibrant, and even more radiant than the bright summer sun. It made the air smell fresher, and the roses appear more vibrant, the sounds of birds and the river like a sweet lullaby.

His eyes shifted towards Snake. The young footman was, along with Miss Paula, serving the three guests. There was a small smile on his face, though his eyes looked anxiously at the three friends. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, glancing down, still shy and nervous. Finny chuckled – that pretty scarlet shade was returning to the young man's cheeks, and it was so pretty!

Snake looked up, and Finny waved at him. He nodded, and straightened his shoulders, holding his head a little higher. Finny beamed at him before returning to his task.

On his left hand was a basket full of roses, on his right, a pair of large gardening scissors. Though his duties for the day had long finished, Finny continued to scout the gardens, looking for the prettiest flowers he could find, carefully selecting and clipping them for his and Snake's very important task. He was on his hands and knees, the dry dirt clinging to his gloves and trousers, as he crawled around, eyes determined to inspect every inch of the gardens that, in the time span of a day, had grown even dearer to him.

The Young Master's mother had loved these gardens. She loved the flowers, the open air, and watching her loved ones play while she made flower crowns. This had been her special spot, and the Young Master had entrusted its care to him.

To say he was honored and touched didn't seem like enough.

Right now, though, he had something else in mind. The image of Prince Soma, Lady Elizabeth, and Lady Sullivan had only strengthened his resolve. Their happiness was beautiful; it was vibrant and cheerful, and so incredibly contagious… To everyone except the one person who needed it most, for no matter how intense their joy was, it seemed to do little to rid the Young Master of his cloak of darkness.

Finny frowned. There was no denying that as the week progressed, his beloved Young Master's melancholy had increased. His eye had grown more distant, his lips barely ever turning into its usual teasing smirk. With but a few exceptions, the boy had completely secluded himself to his study, keeping only Mister Sebastian as his companion.

Finny noticed that he wasn't eating as much. Every morning he seemed tired, as if he hadn't slept well. And yet, at the same time, something burned inside that blue eye, a determined and strong fire that fed his inner darkness in a way that Finny had never seen before.

But that didn't make the sadness any easier to ignore. The melancholy, the anguish, the despair… It all radiated together with the darkness and determination.

And it pained both Finny and Snake to see it.

"Ah! Finny!" Lady Elizabeth called. Finny turned around to see the girl waving at him. "Finny, can you come here?"

Finny leaped to his feet. He placed the scissors on the ground before running towards the table, basket still in hand.

"What can I help you with, Lady Elizabeth?" Finny asked.

Lady Elizabeth reached for one of the roses in his basket, bringing it close to her nose. She smiled brightly before handing the flower over to Lady Sullivan, "These are the ones! Aren't they pretty? They smell so good, too!"

Lady Sullivan looked at the flower, her green eyes examining them, "They are pretty. The soil here must be really fertile for them to grow like this."

Prince Soma nodded eagerly, reaching over to look at the rose.

"They are! The Phantomhive gardens always had the most beautiful roses!" Lady Elizabeth said. "My mother told me so! She said she never saw any roses that could compare to these!"

Finny chest swelled with pride.

"Really? Never ever?" Lady Sullivan asked.

"Anywhere?" Prince Soma asked.

"Not anywhere! She said they are the most beautiful of all of England!" Lady Elizabeth said. "And that when Uncle Vincent fell in love with Aunt Rachel, he would bring her roses from the garden to court her! It was so romantic!"

Finny blinked, surprised. "I didn't know that."

Lady Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, it's why the roses were her favorites! He would always bring them to her. My mom and dad told me he would stay in the gardens all day long; asking Tanaka and Mister Diedrich help in choosing the flowers!"

"I never heard much about Ciel's parents," Prince Soma said. "So that's how he courted her?"

"Yes! Aunt Rachel loved telling us that story! And Uncle Vincent always had this really loving look when she told it, too!"

Finny looked down at the roses in his basket, his eyes in awe.

Lady Elizabeth put the flower back in the basket. "Why are you collecting the flowers, Finny? Is it for some special occasion? Oh! Like a dinner party? Or a ball? Is Ciel throwing one?"

Finny blushed. He glanced at Snake, who had been listening to the conversation with great attention. His cheeks, too, turned red, and he looked away. This did not go unnoticed to the three of them.

"Snake?" Lady Elizabeth frowned in concern.

"S-Smile looked sad yesterday when he mentioned his mother. Says Emily," Snake still refused to look at her. "He's also been working hard on a case. He said it was a personal, though. Says Bronte."

"We want to cheer him up," Finny explained. "So we thought we could make him a flower crown! Like the ones he has been making this week!"

"B-but… We're not very good at it. Says Emily."

Lady Elizabeth blinked. Once. Twice. Then she gasped. Her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling brightly as she clapped her hands together, "I'll help you! I'll definitely help you! Oh, please, let me help! Ciel used to love the flower crowns Aunt Rachel made him! If we make one like that, it will definitely cheer him up!"

"You thinks so?" Finny asked.

"Of course!" Lady Elizabeth nodded. "And it will be so much fun! Please, can I help? Can we help?"

"O-Of course!"

Lady Elizabeth's smile only widened as she tried to hold back her excitement.

"Not that I'm against the idea," Prince Soma said, his hand raised as if he had a question. "But shouldn't we try to find out why Ciel is upset first?"

Lady Elizabeth looked at Finny and Snake, Finny glanced at Snake, then at Lady Sullivan and Prince Soma. He could feel his own smile falling.

"Ciel won't tell us," Lizzie concluded. "If something really is bothering, he would never tell us. He never does. And… And I don't know why."

"They said he talked about his parents, right?" Lady Sullivan asked. "Maybe something about this case is reminding him of them?"

Finny tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. "Snake did say that it was a more personal case, right, Snake?"

Snake nodded.

"Maybe Ciel just misses his parents?" Prince Soma asked.

Lady Elizabeth looked down at her hands folded on top of her lap. "But Ciel never talks about them anymore."

Finny sighed. Compared to Lady Elizabeth or Tanaka, he hadn't known the Young Master for very long at all. And yet, in all the time they spent together, Finny had only seen his Young Master openly express his grief twice.

He felt his throat close at the thought of those memories, his chest aching. Never had he felt as useless as those moments when his precious Young Master was in so much pain, and there was nothing he could do to comfort him. He tried holding him, yelling at those who carried out insensitive conversations right in front of him. He treated his injuries, kept him company, and did his best to erase his insecurities when he said he wasn't worth any of it. Finny had tried his best to help his Young Master during those vulnerable moments, and yet, all of his efforts had been for nothing.

His Young Master had a never ending darkness and a profound sadness inside of him. They clung to him like a parasite, sucking his radiance. But the Young Master was also strong. He was proud, beautiful, and clever. He was the strongest person Finny knew… but in those moments, in those two occasions, the garderner was reminded that despite it all, his Young Master was still a child who had all his happiness cruelly taken from him at a very young age.

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Finny didn't even notice he had spoken until the words came out of his lips. But once they were out, he found himself unable to stop, not caring about all those eyes looking at him. "The Young Master likes to be strong in front of others. I think the only person he lets himself be sad with is… Is with Mister Sebastian. But he is the Earl, and he thinks it's his job to be strong for all of us. Maybe that's why he won't talk about it."

Soma grinned, "Well, if Ciel won't talk about it, then he doesn't have to talk about it. We'll cheer him up anyways! Let's make him a super special crown!" Soma said. "We'll use all of Ciel's mom's favorite flowers! This way Ciel will have something to remember her!"

"Yes!" this seemed to return Lady Elizabeth's energy, her eyes now determined. "Ciel would love that! Finny, Snake, let's do it!"

Finny and Snake looked at each other, smiling before nodding.

Prince Soma was quick to stand up and go towards Lady Sullivan, pushing her wheel chair as Lady Elizabeth guided them through the gardens. Snake carried the straw basket, which soon was filled with all of Lady Rachel's favorite flowers. Together, the five of them – as well as Emily and Bronte – picked the best of them all.

Their rich aroma filled Finny's lungs. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind cheered them on as they went on their adventure. Soon they were talking, jesting, and exchanging stories. Somewhere along the way, Miss Paula, Mister Wolfran, Mister Agni, Tanaka, Bard, and Meirin all joined them.

Every time Finny looked, he saw that Snake was smiling, seemingly happier and relaxed than Finny had ever seen him. The sight made Finny's heartbeat quicken and his chest grow warm.

With a smile of his own, he knew with great certainty that this was what having a family and a home felt like.

It must have taken them hours to collect all the flowers and braid them together into a full and colorful crown, but for Finny, this moment could have gone on forever and he would not have even noticed. Somewhere along the way Prince Soma and Lady Sullivan made flower crowns for Mister Agni and Mister Wolfran. In fact, soon all of them were wearing one, all of them gifts from someone else, including Tanaka; the former head butler had even knelt down to the floor as Lady Elizabeth crowned him, the two smiling at each other as if remembering something from the past.

The Young Master's one was the prettiest, though. With rich blood red roses, fragile and soft orange blossoms, and embedded with tiny baby breaths, the crown was full and elegant, delicate yet strong.

It was nearing supper time when the Young Master finally returned. They were so preoccupied with their activity, that none heard earl and butler approach. The sound of their footsteps, as well as the Young Master's cane, was muted by their loud conversation.

"What is going on here?"

The Young Master looked perplexed. His one visible eye was wide, his mouth open. Behind him, even Mister Sebastian looked just as shocked, as well as slightly confused; there was no sign of the usual anger that would cloud his features whenever they neglected their duties – as they were doing at that moment.

They exchanged looks. Finny met Snake's eyes, noticing how his dear friend's shoulders tensed slightly. The flower crown sat in between the two of them.

"Well?" he asked when no one seemed to reply.

Lady Elizabeth reached towards Finny, her delicate fingers touching his hand lightly. Finny looked at her to see her smiling at both him and Snake. When their eyes met, she nodded encouragingly.

Swallowing the lump on his throat, Finny got up, grabbing the flower crown. Together with Snake, the two walked towards the Young Master, whose confusion only seemed to grow.

"W-We wanted to give you this!" Finny bowed his head as he shoved the crown towards the little earl.

"W-we noticed you were upset. S-so we wanted to cheer you up. Says Emily." Snake's voice shook almost as much as Finny's.

"You… You what?"

"Everyone helped us, too!" Finny continued.

"You made this…?" the Young Master asked. "For me?"

"Yes. W-We hope you like it. Says Bronte."

There was a moment of silence. Taking a deep breath, Finny finally found the courage to look up.

And he was glad that he did, because in that moment, the Young Master gave the two of them the most beautiful smile Finny had ever seen.

"Thank you."

I'm uncertain of what else I can say. Though I promised honesty – and honest I was – I feel as if I am leaving you with nothing more but my rambling. You'll know, as you read this, that although I said I would break my silence, I am still keeping secrets. If I could be selfish one last time, I ask you not to concern yourself with those. Like I said before, those are things that I wish to take to my grave Do not, however, mistake my silence for shame or regret. The things I did, I did out of necessity to accomplish my goals. I do not regret them. Many of them were wrong, many were despicable, and part of me does wish that things could have gone differently, that life had not created a situation where that was the outcome that would best benefit me and my agenda. Yet, if I were to relieve many of those moments, and were I of sound mind, I would not have changed a thing.

But those were my choices and my wrongs, my sins to bear, and I'll bear them proudly, even if silently. Perhaps it is just another part of my selfish nature not to wish to impose them on anyone but myself and Sebastian. They are my evils, – our evils, for we have done them together, and among the many things we share, that is perhaps what makes our bond strong – and I will not have you, whom I've grown to care so much for, tainted with their knowledge.

The feelings expressed in this letter, though, are genuine. I know I've repeated these words numerous of times, but their importance cannot be overstated; these words as a true as I could make them, and I hope that you were able to find some small satisfaction and appeasement despite their nonsensical nature. If you are to take anything from this letter, take my eternal gratitude, and my affection. Know that, while facing the cold darkness, your presence helped remind me of what the light was like. The light, however, is not a place I can – neither do I want – to reside, and the darkness is not a place where you should travel. With that in mind, I wish you the greatest happiness in the world as we part ways for the last time.

Ciel put his quill down. A single blue eye stared at the letter, reading over its content. The sound of the heavy rain tapping against the window in his study created a comforting melody, one that he heard many times during his childhood as he played in this room while his father worked.

With a sigh, he folded the paper and placed it inside the envelope, sealing it before he could change his mind. He turned towards the window, watching the rain.

How fitting that today was the day that the six days streak of sunshine was finally broken.

A knock snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Young Master?" Sebastian's voice called from behind the heavy wooden door.

"Come in, Sebastian," Ciel said. The demon did as he was told, walking into the study with grace, his uniform perfectly clean, not a single wrinkle to be seen. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lord," there was a hint of a smile on his face, his red eyes sparkling with delight. "The carriage should be here in a few moments."

Ciel said nothing. He stood up, letter in hand, and walked around the room. His face betrayed no emotion, his eye cold and unreadable as his mind went over the information they had gathered.

"Are we sure of this lead?" he asked. "Viscount Druitt is hardly a reliable source, after all."

Sebastian smiled this time, "I agree that in the past he has been… troublesome." Ciel snorted. He was now standing in front of the chess set he and his father used to play, where he had placed the flower crown Finny and Snake had made for him. "But I have checked his story and his information. He does not appear to be lying, my Lord. Or, at the very least, he believes his own words."

Ciel placed the letter next to the flower crown. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip, but he was quick to mask it away.

"Then if he's lying, it's because he had also been lied to," he concluded.

#black butler fanfiction

[allwhilewaiting]

Hello again.

I had an interesting concept while folding laundry this evening. I though to myself that although I don't aspire to have any children, I would like to leave a legacy of my life by simply talking about it candidly. And maybe one day, a cousin or distant relative will find interest in what I have to say. Maybe my life experiences will help them in some way that I can't put my finger on in this moment...help them to feel less alone, to know that the emotional avalanche that seems to appear in the different seasons of life is not a sign of their instability, but rather just part of the human experience.

Since the last time I wrote, I've mainly been preoccupied with learning how to be a better human for my own sake; more loving toward myself, more forgiving, more clear with what it is that I need to make me feel most at peace and stable. I finally got divorced, and for that I am immensely grateful. I feel like a large weight has lifted off of my shoulders, and as such I'm remembering how blissful it feels to settle into my peace again. I no longer feel fragile...but fluid. Allowing in only what serves me, and allowing the rest to simply dissipate into the karmic cycle of existence. I have not fully processed all of the trauma of that experience, but I am no longer haunted by the anger, fear, and shame of it as I once was for a very prolonged period.

I moved to Charleston a few weeks ago (: If I can recall correctly, I wrote a post either on this platform or my phone (I'll post or repost it when I find it) about how living here was my destiny. This was possibly 2 or 3 years ago that I came to that conclusion. I remember trying to apply for jobs here but timing would have it that my destiny came true in the most magnificent and beautiful ways at this stage in my life. I love everything about living here. I feel like I was born to be here, and as God would have it I was born here for that reason I believe. I love my apartment, it's the nicest one I've ever had (though we won't talk about the expenses x) ... it's a blessing that it all worked out, truly. I had a whole car situation a week before I was scheduled to move here as well which was a disaster, but worked itself out divinely so that I could get here as the Universe designed, on time. There've been other little hiccups too with getting settled, but nothing that has derailed me from the understanding that this is quite literally the most ideal lifestyle that I've ever lived. In my dream city among all my ancestors (living and past), working from home at a job that treats me with respect, grace, and kindness in every way, and in the most loving relationship with myself and God.

I went through so much to get here...bad mistakes, bad situations, and quite frankly many times I didn't think I would make it out of those gaping holes. But I'm grateful to the Universe and my angels for holding my hand to get to this place. I'm exactly where I need to be and I feel the confirmation running through my bone marrow. Thank God for this. For this life. For this peace. For this joy. May I indulge forever in this. Ashe.

I am still taking strides to ensure that I am keeping up with the practice of self awareness, teasing apart values I hold and determining whether they serve me for the greater good of my life. So far I've determined that I am okay with not dating or concerning myself with any relational capacity for the unseen future. I can conceptualize and accept growing old un-partnered through the lens of fun, joy, and excitement. I have fully leaned into enjoying the privilege of doing things that make me happy, how I want to, when I want to, without any other considerations. What freedom! I've also as I mentioned determined that I'm perfectly fine without bearing children in this lifetime. I am also okay with not having any close friends until I find true village partners...people who I know are my non-intimate soul-mates. And I know that they are hard to find, that it will take time...I'm willing to live my life in the meantime without compromising my standards for any connection not worth pouring my time and effort (and sincerity) into. I'm no longer interested in modifying my body. I don't care what the scale says (nor do I know). So long as living in my body is a comfortable experience, I am showing myself radical love for what it looks like in the mirror.

Those are the main components of my current stage of evolution. I'm grateful, I feel like my best self, and I am breathing deeply.

<3

[ncitygirls]

belong - chan x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.8k

when your lover called on you, the bells in your heart rung. chan invited you to his home for an evening spent together in the sweet peace of the one another’s company. upon your arrival, he greeted you with pure admiration in his eyes, a youthful wonderment sweeping over him as he gazed upon your person, pulling you into his embrace where you belong.

he took your hand, dusting his lips across your knuckles as he whispered, “i missed you, love.”

“and i you.” it’s not often you admit that time spent away from chan adds painfully to your longing, this much is evidenced by his wide eyed surprise. “i have spent every second counting down until we would meet again.”

“oh?” he gasps, believing not a word. “maybe hypnos might finally stop by now that you have come.”

“maybe breath will finally enter my lungs! and food settle in my stomach!”

“my love, if we are of such detriment to ourselves when apart,” he mumbles against your lips as he captures them sweetly. “then perhaps we mustn’t part again.”

“not ever?”

“not ever,” and so, with your indefinite union confirmed, chan ushers you into his home. you quickly note the sheet music that customarily garnishes every corner of the black oak table is now stacked neatly to the side. in their place are gold lined porcelain dinner plates, and sat atop them are a meal you know your lover did not prepare. “i know what you are readying yourself to say, so i feel i must confess something.”

“please do.”

“the lees did assist me with the preparation of this meal,” he lies as you turn to him. “you do not believe me? my love, i take great offence.”

“one can only find offence in the truth, chan.”

“fine,” he sighs, kindly untucking your seat. “the lees prepared the meal.” his confession is rewarded with the softest kiss to his dimpled cheek, deepening the indent greatly. “but i did prepare the table!”

“and had you not, the meal would not look half as inviting,” your praise, though clearly meant in jest, still colours the tips of his ears.

“lest you plan for my head to swell to twice its size, i suggest you stop.”

you press your hand to his cheek, the soft skin warming your palm as you turn his face towards you. “surely that is just more of you to love, is it not?”

“goodness. u are like a god sent spring during drought! love just pours from you. surely i am not this worthy,” he ponders aloud. he rests his forehead on yours, settling his eyes on your lips, he trains his pounding heart to beat in time with your breathless chortles. “what did I do to deserve you?”

as you shrug, you lean up, capturing his lips with yours, offering up the most delicate of pecks. the motion is dizzying, and the pace moreso. his fingers grip your side almost painfully, his wandering thumb finding the skin of your hip, drawing the tiniest circles. your tongue finally slips between his teeth before he pulls away. “the lees would not be happy to learn how we have treated their meal.”

“that you plated,” you remind, squeezing his arms in want. “and a plated meal can be reheated. hell, a plated meal can be unplated!”

“is this a want or a need?” chan suddenly asks, watching your teeth catch your lip. raising his thumb once dragging along the band of your knickers, he tugs at the trapped lip, freeing it from restraint. “i asked you a question.”

“it’s a want,” you admit shamefully, your hunger amplified with another whiff of the cooling dinner.

“a want can wait.” without another word, chan releases you, waiting patiently so he can tuck your seat in. once you are seated, he tucks himself in at the table’s head, reaching for your hand to his right. “go ahead, angel.”

you can only nod as you reach for your polished fork before scooping up the braised pork and buttered mash. he grins as you moan, the sound oddly innocent as you slowly begin to regain your appetite. he frees your hand as you reach for your knife, settling it instead on your knee, squeezing before he attacks his meal. as you make your own ways through dinner, you settle into a comfortable silence, both happily welcoming any intermittent interruptions. he speaks in part of his long work week spent apart from you, you speak in part of the gruelling work week spent apart from him. you both speak of family, sharing thoughtless yet meaningful tidings. you speak of friends, of gossip and news as he updates you on the lees’ plans to finally go into business together.

“how does hyunjin feel about it? he, minho and felix, were they not in talks about a dance company?” you speak with your lips perched on the rim of your glass, never forgetting a detail chan offers up. and though this at times works to his detriment, he cannot help but smile as he nods, gleeful at your continued interest in his companions.

“hyunjin wishes them well. of course he sulked for days, but he sees their passion and respects their wishes.” chan watches as you nod, acquainted well enough with the man to understand. “but he expects shares.”

“as he should!’ you punctuate your point with a final stab at your dinner, chewing the cooling carrot far too aggressively for how well it had been prepared.

“must everyone be compensated for broken promises?” he asks, reaching for your cleared dinner plate. “that hardly seems just.”

“is that not the very underpinnings of law?”

“so that makes it just?” he asks, returning to his seat with wine before pulling you onto his lap.

“well,” you start, grabbing your glass and straddling your lover. “it depends who is profiting.”

“consider this,” placing his wine down, he rests his open hands on your thighs, “when i make you mrs. bang—”

“when?”

“yes, when,” he emphasises with a sweet kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, trailing his nose up the column of your neck. “should you change your mind, must i hold you accountable?”

“i would never change my mind,” you state, rendering his analogy futile. “being mrs. bang would be the honour of a lifetime.”

“you are insufferable,” he breathes, his warming forehead pressed to your shoulder. “for the sake of my analogy, say that were not the case. say being mrs bang was unliveable, the biggest regret of one’s life. should you be accountable for leaving?”

“annulment is a fickle thing, chan. there are so many other factors involved.” you predict the question on his tongue, so you proceed to list them. “wealth, health, kin, religion, intimacy—”

“we won’t have that problem.”

“we won’t have any of those problems,” you correct. “will we, mr bang?”

“no,’ he agrees, pulling your frame further up his lap, “none.” there’s a pause where he regards you with an insurmountable confusion, as if regarding you for the first time again. “you never did tell me what I did to deserve you?”

“it isn’t for me to tell,” and therein lies his issue, his desperation to remedy his thanklessness, to express his unyielding gratitude for the blessing that is his lover. if he knew what he did, then he might know what to keep doing. “just enjoy me.”

“i intend to do just that,” he breathes against your skin, lips dragging along the bone of your jaw.

it is impossible not to squirm. his touch is at the best of times manageable, yet at the worst, insufferable. his fingernails press moons into your neck and thigh, firming his grip on your nape and dragging your hips down onto his crotch. the friction is hot and reeling, the slide of his cock along your clothed folds, slowly milking him whilst displaying his restraint. you detest his chosen pace, it is all the things you simultaneously love and loathe about your partner. his mature approach to love making and his need to drag out every moment beyond what is absolutely necessary. you begin setting your own pace, digging your heels into the ground as you roll against his length. the pleasure is short lived.

“it would serve you well to hold still,” he pours into your mouth, the beginnings of a smirk tainting even the purest parts of his face. he makes it increasingly difficult to follow his generous warning, as he frees your neck and grabs the table for leverage, dragging his groin against you, readily instigating your demise. “i can be fair, y/n. just tell me what it is you desire?”

“you, chan.”

“but you have all of me,” he reminds, guiding your hand to the warm space between you, tightening your grip around his heavy length. “all of me is yours, so speak plainly.”

“i want you to—“ he lets a single digit pass between your clothed folds, soaking the fabric and the pad of his finger. your eyes slowly follow his movements, the lone finger sucked into the warmth of his mouth. “chan, please.”

“how can you beg for that which you have not asked?”

“fuck me.” he reels at your embarrassment, the warmth on your cheeks warming his neck as you burrow out of view. “please,” your breathy plea fills the shell of his ear as you drag yourself along his lap. “is that not the reason you asked me here?”

his laughter fills the air as he kicks out his chair, your combined weight tugging at the carpet. “not entirely,” he admits candidly, lifting you both in a swift motion. ��i do enjoy time spent in your company.”

“well, of course,” you agree, clinging to him as he moves through his home, covering more ground with every kiss he offers to your neck. “but my company can allow for a multitude of activities.”

“a multitude you say?” he places you gently atop his sheets, your weight forcing a sensual warm oak to waft through the room. his hands settle firmly by your head, his elbows collapsing to barely rest his weight on you, eliminating any and all space. his gleaming eyes bore into your own, the tip of his nose gliding along the bridge of your own. “you mightn’t believe it, but I am a simple man. i am happy to settle for one.”

“and which one might that be?”

his head lolls dumbly from left to right, allowing but a second to pass before he gives you his answer. rows of pearl capture his lip as he lowers himself, slow sensual grinds of his hips reveal his thoughts like no words could. his hooded eyes drink the creases in your face, the waves of pleasure coursing through you as he passes between your folds. the air thickens tenfold, your pants fanning his lips as you succumb to the movements of your lover.

“chan—“ your whine draws a devious grin on his face. you feel his palm rest on your cheek, his thumb running along your jaw down to your chin where he tugs, no words nor force required to tell you what he wants.

“may i?” he breathes into your mouth, tongue rolling in his own, collecting what you unknowingly crave. you nod once, leaning up to meet his lips as he leans back. the saliva gathered on his tongue slowly passes from between his lips into your open mouth. his eyes follow the string that connects you both as you swallow, your breath faltering as his eyes drag up to gaze at you. the hunger you’re met with would force your knees together, only his own keep them apart. “i’m going to give you what you want now,” he promises, fingers tugging at your panties. “and I know you can take it,” he affirms as he slides a finger in you, grinning as you whine. “i just need to make sure.”

he pumps his finger slowly, dragging the pad languidly against your walls, his thumb circling your clit. be laughs at the tremble in your thighs, how little restraint you have always exhibited. it has always been this way. your neediness bursting through the seams, rendering his own restraint powerless. especially as your fingers toy with his waistband, fist closing around his leaking tip. your palm rolls against his slit, the heel gathering his precum as you slide against his tip. he struggles with his weight over you, his forehead pressed to your own as he winds his length between your closed fist. his lips suck on your tongue, teeth clashing, when he feels a familiar ripple of heat pass through his veins.

“baby,” he huffs, stills his hips and his fingers. “is this what you want?”

“no,” you whine, humping against his hand and pumping him all the same. “but it is you i want,” you pant, chasing a high you know your lover will never give you. “it’s you i need.”

at that he pulls your hand from him, ready to fulfil his duty as your love, to give you all the things you want and need. he shows no haste removing his clothes, buckle hitting the floor, trousers and undergarments gently kicked down his legs. he takes a modicum of time on you however. his hands glide down your sides as he frees you of your sticky underwear, hiking up your skirt as he pumps his cock. lining himself up with your slit, he gazes down at you, his doting expression in stark contrast with his bare form.

“i love you, angel,” he breathes, eyes shining as he pecks at your cheek, nose, lips.

“and i you,” you breathe in kind, choking up as he sheathes himself within your walls. he sighs as you take him, your hot folds sucking him in as he slips his tongue between your lips, swallowing your whimpers. as he bottoms out he pulls away, watching your eyes gleam in want before he snaps his hips, denouncing all fatigue. “oh, chan—”

he grunts as his name falls off your tongue, your mind and body at a loss for thoughts besides those of your lover. as he pounds into you, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly, forcing your mouth open. unintelligible moans fill the air, though he hears you calling out for him. for the most part, he hears your lustful grumbles of inexplicable pleasure. he needn’t decipher them, nor does he try. he just basks in them, his groans falling into your open mouth, the odd praise passing between your lips as does his tongue, his spit, his praise, his tongue, his spit. he uses you, as you so wish. he fucks harder into you as you fall further into delirium, pleasure rippling through you with every snap of his hips. he watches you gasp for air, gulping around his saliva, watery eyes pleading for him.

“tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum,” you whine, clinging to his tired arms as he deepens his thrusts, rolling his length into you in short, sharp motions. “please, channie.”

he feels you clench around him, his movements growing slow with each passing second. there are moments when he slips, his fist guiding himself back to you, his fingers pressed to your stomach, thumb circling your clit. he feels you teeter to the edge. your pussy closing tighter as he gathers your release, sliding his thumb harshly over your clit, fucking even faster into you as you pass into ecstacsy. his teeth clench at the base of your throat, the combined stimulation drawing your orgasm from you. all that fills the air is your gargles, his name falling off your tongue in a chant, coated in gratitude and adoration. in love. chan follows you to euphoria. his hips stutter as you milk him. His arms weakened, he rests his forehead on your temple, chasing a high only you can conjure. one that draws out grunts of gratitude, of adoration. of love.

moments pass in sticky silence. pants filling the air as the afterglow sets in, the air stagnant as the pungent smell of sex fills the room. he welcomes the short seconds of peace, but he must break it.

“move in with me.” his motives on evenings like this were never too clear, not even to himself. but chan had not lied. every moment in your presence makes your absence all the more unthinkable. sleep comes easy when you are near. he dreams sweetly when you are here. he leans over to remove your blouse, freeing you from the damp material. as he does, he gazes into your eyes, speaking softly of all the nights you could spend doing just this. all the nights you have wasted not doing this. all the ways you could spend the nights in between. all the mornings he could spend with you and you with him. “you belong with me,” he breathes, lips pressed to your knuckles as his fingers trail up and down your arms. he stills, realising he might lull you into slumber, if his words had not already done so when you speak.

“how could i not know?” you ask, splitting his pretty face with a grin. “i belong with you.”

#um illvebangchansomuchomg #bang chan #chan #skz chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #chan fluff #chan smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #skz fluff #skz smut #skz au #ncitygirls #needs a proofread

[haemilkis]

Picnic Date

Pairing: boyfriend!lee haechan/donghyuckxreader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1194 words

Warnings: none

Summary: You and your boyfriend Haechan decided to go on a sweet and sunny picnic date, but the rain decided to change your plans for the day.

a/n: I’m still experimenting with my writing, so your kind comments would be more than welcome! thank you and happy reading ^.^

“Pink and green or blue and white?”, you said as you twirled around “gracefully” in front of your boyfriend, Haechan whilst holding up two of your outfit choice to wear for the beautiful Sunday picnic date. You both have been waiting for this weekend picnic date since forever — well, mostly YOU. 

You’ve been counting the days to be able to be with your loving boyfriend again after being away from each other for 2 weeks due to work commitments. “You look pretty in both of them”, your boyfriend said with a cheeky smile as he took a few steps in front of you and held you by the waist to peck you on your right cheek. You were caught off-guard by his actions and now your cheeks were flushed in peachy tints mixed with your cherry red hued blusher you’ve just applied.

“hey, nooo..”, you cupped your cheeks abruptly as you laid the outfits you were holding one second ago on the edge of the bed. “I just did my makeup, now you’ve just smudged it”, you showed a pouty face at Haechan. To which he replied with “ awww its okay c’mere let me touch up the blusher for you, okay?” he smiled reassuringly to you—but his face was a few inches away from you. He picked up the blush brush and expertly re-applied your blusher with short but precise strokes along your cheeks. He has been watching you apply your makeup for quite some time now so sometimes you do have a bonding session with him through it—oftentimes, it ends up in a pillow fight because he would make you look like a clown...well that’s Lee Haechan, your beloved boyfriend for you.

Shortly, after the both of you finally got dressed and as usual you are always infatuated by your boyfriend’s cologne scent that is mixed with his natural body scent. Hints of pine, velvet and the woody earthiness of sage wafts through the air as he spritz his branded cologne on. You always wonder how his scent always lingers on him throughout the day when he only uses it very deliberately. You are convinced that your boyfriend just has a natural scent to him that would always smitten you from across the room. 

“Let’s go, shall we?”, Haechan said as he donned black jeans, white top and his dark washed denim jacket on, finishing the look with his favourite snapback back. You nodded and went straight to the car whilst holding the picnic basket filled with yummy food, sparkling water, red and white checkered picnic blanket and cute wooden cutleries.

                                                     ~~~

You arrived at Han River whilst the sun (the literal sun and your favourite sun in human form, Haechan) was shining brightly. It felt so good to let the sun brush against your skin delicately after weeks being coped up with work commitments. The air was fresh and crisp as the light breeze lightly swayed your white skirt. With Haechan’s hand finding its way to find your delicate fingers and intertwines with your soft hands, you were feeling giddy and excited for your date! 

As you and Haechan found a cozy corner under a big shady tree across the park, you both started to lay out the picnic items and took photos of each other candidly. You took your time and laid on the blanket with Haechan after you both had settled down being cheeky with each other. You faced each other and unexpectedly locked eyes. You felt your heart thumping from being flustered. Haechan, on the other hand, was very confident in his gaze to you as he intently looked at you with admiration and love—honestly, he questioned himself everyday how did he end up with such an angel like you. 

Suddenly, Haechan leans forward to your face and lands his soft plush lips on your nose for a quick peck. “ I love you!”, he said on a whim. You hide your flushed red face with your hands. “I love you too!”, you mumbled to him as he stayed in a 5cm position away from your face. “...but let’s eat now okay?” you said with a chuckle. he nodded in response with a sheepish smile. 

You started to nibble on snacks and drink sparkling water in a fancy iridescent frosted glass flute that Haechan recently bought for you since you loved collecting fancy and cute glassware items recently. Your likes and dislikes are always observed by him and you are honestly so blessed to have him in your life. It’s always the little things.

You were talking about mundane things and chuckling like teenagers when you felt a droplet of rain on your arms. It started to drizzle moments after, you and Haechan scurried around to pack the things and run to the nearest gazebo that was not far from your picnic spot. As you both were running quickly to get to the shade as they were partially drenched already. 

Being a natural romanticist for you, Haechan held up his denim jacket above your head as you held the picnic basket in your hand. It was as if he knew this was going to happen—he doesn’t usually wear his denim jacket to a picnic date. Once you’ve safely arrived under the big white gazebo, he gives his denim jacket to you in one hand to make sure you keep yourself warm and another grabs the handle of the picnic basket to place it on the ledge. 

You passed the basket to him and wore his denim jacket over your shoulder. “Are you okay?” “Still feeling cold?” do you want something warm to drink `” or do you want to go home?” Haechan was rapping all these to you. You chuckled, “ no, no, don’t worry okay? I'm fine”. You smiled at him as he had a worried look written all over his face. You knew how much Haechan wanted this date to go well but sometimes the weather just alters your itinerary for the day.

You gave Haechan a sudden back hug because you wanted him to stay warm as well whilst waiting for the rain to stop. “Let's keep you warm too, okay”, you said briefly as you lay your chin on his back.  But, your boyfriend’s hands gently held your arms that were on his waist to shift the position to warm his arms on your waist instead — yes, now he was giving you a big warm back hug. 

His lightly calloused fingers encircle your waist and bring you close to his chest to let his natural warmth radiate through close proximity. 

“You know, I’m the only one who can give you a back hug and keep you warm, okay?”

He gave you a sweet peck on the side of your cheek from behind and swept your silky brown hair behind your ear only to mutter;

“Sorry the date didn’t work out as planned but let’s go for some ice cream after this okay and we can watch our favourite kissing booth movie together okay?”

You nodded and a smile crept up your lips as if it was a voluntary response from your body for Haechan.

“deal!”

© HAEMILKIS, 2021

#nct 127 haechan #haechan fic #haechan fluff #haechan #haechan!boyfriend #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nctau #nct oneshot #lee donghyuck #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck x reader #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nctdreamfluff

[hoodharlow]

Rollin with the Flow

AN: this is dedicated to my bby @kindahoping4forever ilysm and I hope you feel better 😌😌😌 pic credits to Bella Hadid and my main tater thot

Requested: nope :)

Warnings: smut this is Ashton and Marina lolll

Word Count: 1.9k words

Ashton walked in the house eating his breakfast sandwich and stopped his chewing. It was surprisingly cool. A few days ago, the AC had stopped working and being the forgetful man he was, he put it off. That was until his three year old gremlin, Max, bit him in frustration because he couldn’t take the heat. So he and Marina sent him off to Michael’s so he can play with Ethan and have some air conditioning. 

Marina's cackle filled their house. He waited a few seconds to figure out where her laugh was coming from. After hearing her laugh one more time, he pinpointed her to the backyard. He kept walking until he found her nodding along to whatever the unknown man said. 

He felt his jaw clench, seeing her only dressed in a blue and green bikini, oblivious to the man's oggleling. Unconsciously, he unbuttoned his white button up shirt and draped it over Marina’s shoulders. Ashton kissed her shoulder. He nodded his head to the man and asked, “Who’s this?”

“This is Scott. He came to fix the AC since someone almost made it explode.” Marina teased him, oblivious to Ashton’s actions. She slipped her hands in the sleeves and hugged the shirt.

“Is he almost done?” Ashton asked her. 

“Just about.” Scott the repairman said, crouched behind the giant box. 

 “I’m gonna go inside.” Marina mumbled. She squeezed one of Ashton’s hands and went inside. 

About five minutes later, Ashton curtly thanked the repairman and slammed the front door shut. 

“How’s our gremlin?” Marina asked him while stacked some vinyls. 

“Our gremlin is now Michael's problem.” Ashton said, tiptoeing his way to the green couch.

She sat on the floor of their living room, rearranging her vinyls that Ashton thought was a good idea to mix in with his. She had the best system for arranging her record collection. No could compete with rainbow order. She neatly gathered her pile of reds and got up to get her composition notebook to write the order she had. 

He laid on his back and watched her. “Why did you call someone to come fix the air conditioner?”

“I was this close to walking around naked.”

“Then my plan is going accordingly.” he smiled, leaning on his side to kiss her, but she swerved him. He scoffed and rolled back on his back. “What time should we go get Max?”

“Later, around dinner time. He’ll be tired from running around with Michael and Fiona's dogs.” She got on her knees and pushed her pile off to the side and grabbed the orange stack. She felt Ashton’s eyes on her so she tied the ends of his shirt, making it an oversized crop top. She bent over again and posed as if Ashton was going to fuck her from behind. She felt a sharp pain on her left ass cheek and looked over her shoulder. 

“You’re not very subtle.” Ashton commented, paging through a magazine that Marina was on the cover. 

“Neither are you.” She smiled sweetly at him before going back to her work. 

A half hour later, Marina finished organizing. She stood on her knees proudly looking over her neat color coordinated piles. Only she didn’t have anywhere to put her records. Before Ashton stole them and added them to his collections, she used to store them in a metal trunk that slowly turned into Max’s toy trunk. 

“You think building an IKEA bookshelf is at your skill level? Since calling someone to come fix the air conditioning wasn’t.” She asked him.

Ashton turned to her. His face read along the lines of slightly stunned and slightly insulted because she assumed that he couldn’t build a simple bookshelf. 

“It's my skill level,” he scoffed defensively. His face relaxed into an innocent smile. “I’m just afraid you’re going to jump me halfway and beg me to have my way with you like the time I built Max’s crib.” 

“Excuse you, I was thirty weeks pregnant. My hormones were all over the place. Pregnant me was a whole different person than the person kindly asking you to build her a lovely bookshelf.”  

“If you say so,” he grumbled. 

He pulled her into a quick, but knee weakening kiss and got up. He went upstairs to change out of his skinny jeans into some basketball shorts. When he returned, Marina was nowhere in sight and there was a giant IKEA box in the middle of the living room. Ashton mumbled a few colorful words about being swindled into building her furniture and grabbed his tool box from the guest room where he was installing new lighting fixtures. 

From the guest room he spotted Marina rubbing on sunscreen. He watched her push down his shirt and rubbed some on her shoulders. His shorts tightened as he kept watching her. He fixed the growing tent under his shorts and went back to the living room. 

Ashton grabbed one of her records, knowing she was going to come back inside and remind him that if he wants to play one of her records all he has to do is. He carefully placed it on the record player and turned up the volume as the first song played. 

Every so often he would peek out to the yard and check on Marina. It truly surprised him that she hasn't barged in yet. The record was almost ready to get flipped so it can play on the other side. He noticed that she had her headphones on while she drew on her notebook. Annoyed, he continued his work and stopped asking for her attention. 

***

Marina frowned and loudly shut her notebook. Ashton had been hard at work and he hadn’t made a snarky remark to her. She got up from the lounge chair and went inside. She made a show of parading in front of Ashton, but he didn’t even glance at her. 

She grabbed a homemade popsicle, courtesy of Ashton’s fruit trees and garden. She took off his shirt and pulled off her bikini top, putting back on his shirt. She grabbed one of her books off the counter and went to the living room. She sat criss-cross applesauce on their green couch and shamelessly watched him until he looked up. 

He didn’t.

The sticky substance slowly dripped down her hand. Marina sighed, the only sticky substance she wanted on her hand should be coming from Ashton ,but he was being a good boyfriend and building her bookshelf. She huffed, knowing that Ashton wasn’t going to give her any attention any time soon, she cleaned up her mess.

She slipped whatever was left on the popsicle in her mouth and sucked on it until she was sure there wasn’t going to be any dripage. She pulled it out and slipped it back once she felt a cold drop fall on her thigh. 

“You’re the most obvious person ever.” Ashton chuckled. “Just say you want to choke on my cock.” 

“What?” Marina blinked at him, confused. 

“What?” He mocked her. He laughed sarcastically. “But lucky for you. I’m done.”

Ashton sat next to her, taking her popsicle. He candidly ate her popsicle, reminding her of how masterful his tongue is. 

“And lucky for you, I’m feeling in a thankful mood.” Marina smiled sweetly at him. 

She grabbed one of their decorative pillows and placed it on the ground. She gently pushed Ashton back as she situated herself in between his thighs. She playfully spanked his ass, motioning him to drop his shorts. He gave her a pointed look and pushed his hips up, pulling down his shirts to his ankles. 

Marina giggled as his cock bounced off his stomach. She sat closer to his exposed cock and adjusted the pillow so it sat in between her thighs. She slowly kissed up its length. She greedily slipped him in her mouth. She moaned out in pleasure as he hit the back of her throat. Her hips followed the pace her mouth went. 

Ashton’s low curses became full-on grunts and moans. One of his hands gripped her hair, keeping her in place as he thrusted into her mouth. Marina let out soft moans. One of her hands was already playing with herself. Her other hand gripped one of his legs, nails digging into his thighs, keeping her up. Minutes later he gently pulled out his cock from her. 

Before she protested, Ashton patted the green shouch. “Hands and knees.”   

Marina nodded and knelt in front of one of the arm chairs. Her fingers shook in excitement as she tried to unbutton Ashton’s shirt. She was about to push it off her shoulders, but she felt his hand on her. He leaned forward and kissed up her neck.

“Leave it on. You know, I like fucking you with my clothes on you.” He whispered in her ear. “Ready?”

Marina nodded eagerly. She looked over her shoulder and pulled him into a kiss. But she pulled away before her back cramped up. She draped herself over the armrest and waited for him. Before she did anything, he yanked her bikini bottom to side and shoved himself in her in one satisfying thrust.  

Ashton pulled out and pushed himself in her once more. His hands gripped her waist as he slowly rocked into her. He twisted his shirt around his hand, using it so Marina could stay up right. As the minutes passed, his thrusts got rougher, and Marina couldn’t hold back. She begged Ashton to keep fucking her at that deliciously slow and rough pace she loved. He leaned over, his chest against her back. 

“Fuck.” Ashton moaned out.

His lips kissed all over her neck as he continued to fuck Marina. She rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts.

“That’s it, take me so good, angel.” He groaned in her ear. Ashton shifted his hips as he thrusted into her. The new angle hit her in that spot that made her beg for him. 

“Please, fuck—” 

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went back down to her clit. Ashton worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Marina. 

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. Ashton’s orgasm followed soon after. He cried her name and pushed himself deep inside Marina, spilling every last drop in her.

“I love you so much, angel.” Ashton mumbled against her lips. 

“I love you too,” Marina giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

They kissed like they had all the time in the world. Their giggles bounced off the walls as their teasing touches became playful. Ashton blew raspberries all over her stomach. Marina gasped for air, trying to make him stop. 

A low buzz came from the top of the shelf. Ashton cursed and pushed himself off the bed. Michael’s face appeared on the screen.

“‘Llo?” he answered.

“Your son and I are outside your door. Could you please—”

“Shit, give us a minute.” Ashton hung up. He pulled on his shorts. 

“You said you were picking him up.” Marina whisper-yelled. 

“I was.” He argued. Marina sprinted upstairs to change while he went to get the door. “Sorry, we were building a bookshelf and got really into it.” He said opening the door to Max and Michael.

“More like you got into Marina.” Michael teased. 

“My house is cold again.” Max clapped before taking off his shoes. He tossed them to Ashton and ran to the kitchen. 

“We were building a bookshelf.” Ashton argued.

Michael snorted and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and the moans that I heard were what?” 

TAGLIST:  @calumscalm​ @karajaynetoday​  @cherryxwildflower​ @myloverboyash​ @calpops​ @idontneedanyone​ @findingliam-o​ @5-secondsofcolor​ @mulletcal​ @sexgodashton​ @sunshinebabycal @another-lonely-heart​​ @fckingpernico​​

Special guests: @twilightmomentswithyou @rebelwith0utacause @littledrummeraussie​ @mulletgate​ @wastelandcth​

#ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin series #dad!ash

[et-lesailes]

iron crush

pairing: tony stark x reader

word count: 1952

summary: you’re a college student as well as roommates/best friends with peter parker, but you’ve developed a bit of a crush on his world famous, superhero mentor tony stark.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush​​​, @tanyam93​​​, @bval-1​​​, @wonderwinchester​​​, @patzammit​​​, @rohaintahquil​​​, @deidrashouseofpain​​​, @sammyslonglostshoe​​​, @jadedhillon​​​, @bohemian-barbie​​, @whysparker​​​, @sebastian-i-stan​​​, @sebabestianstan101​​​, @lille-kattunge​​​, @teller258316​​​, @peach-acid​​​, @allsortsofinterests​​​, @xoxabs88xox​​​, @heyiamthatbitch​​​, @cptn-sgrogers​​​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​​, @bangtan-serendipity​​​, @troublermalik​​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​​, @bookish-shristi​​​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​​​,  @gingerninjaprincess16​​​, @straightforwardly​​,  @denisemarieangelina​​​,  @frencchfries​​​, @xlanawriter​​​, @littlemoistcarrot​​​, @pottxrwolff​​​, @arianatheangelworld​​​​, @southerngracela​​​, @nsfwsebbie​​​, @rororo06​​​, @savemesteeb​​​​, @raveviolet​​​​, @hurricanerinwrites​​​​, @captainamerica-is-bae​​​​, @shaddixlife​​​​, @tessa-bl​​​​, @marvelouspottering​​​​, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​​​​, @thegetawaywriter​​​​, @dwights-new-plague​​​​, @rynabarnesrogers​​​​, @fckdeusername​​​​,  @doloreschanal​​​​, @ssworldofsw​​​​, @la-cey​​​, @buckybarnesplumwhore​​​, @hevans-angel​​, @chuckbass-love​​, @stardust-galaxies​​, @smyfmj​​

notes: in this story, peter and reader are 18! I know the opening scene is literally from civil war where peter is a minor in high school but shhh just pretend :))) also sorry if you’re tagged and don’t care for tony, i haven’t really been separating my permanent taglist and my cevans only taglist because it’s a lot of work gjfjdjg so just ignore if you don’t want to read, no worries! also as always, graphic creds go to @thewritingdoll​ !

You first met him that fateful day he was waiting for Peter in his apartment itself, casually chatting with Aunt May while pretending to enjoy her walnut date loaves. Being Peter’s childhood friend, you’ve known of his Spider-Man secret ever since he became the masked hero, and it hadn’t been difficult for you to figure out that Tony was there for Avengers related reasons. You remember the piercing eye contact you made, the way his brown eyes lingered over you in surprise and approval; you had felt flattered beyond belief that you were even noticed in such a way when you were in the same room as Peter’s abnormally attractive aunt. 

Fast forward a few months later, and you, Peter, and your other friend Ned now have an apartment of your own. The three of you have always been inseparable; you see them as brothers and you can trust them to have your back, just like you and Ned have Peter’s whenever he’s called to save the neighborhood (and, lately, many areas outside of it).

You’re on your belly on your bed in a tank and shorts, taking notes while skimming through your psychology textbook when you hear a knock on the door. You roll your eyes- Ned always forgets his keys, which is why you tend to leave the door unlocked whenever it’s just you at home. It’s difficult to worry much about crime when you literally live with a world famous superhero. “It’s open!” you call, eyes still scanning the words on the pages before you. The door opens and you hear footsteps, louder and louder until they’ve come to your doorway. “Have you just, permanently lost your keys or something?” you ask in amusement, not even bothering to look up at your roommate.

“Didn’t get any to begin with, actually. Got a copy for me? Would be pretty helpful considering the kid never answers his goddamn phone.”

Your head immediately snaps up, your eyes widening slightly as you stare at the grown man at the entrance of your bedroom who is very clearly not Ned. “Tony!” you exclaim in surprise, moving to sit up on your knees as you gaze up at him somewhat embarrassed- and suddenly feeling much more naked. You’re comfortable with limited clothing around Peter and Ned, you’ve known them practically your whole life- but Tony is someone you’ve seen all over television, only met once… and have the slightest crush on. You’ve always loved a man with confidence, and while Tony has too much of it, you can’t help but find it appealing. You clear your throat, trying not to blush from his amused expression. “Uh, yeah, Peter’s not home right now… do you want me to text him? Maybe he’ll reply to me?”

“What? Reply to his cute best friend he drools over on a daily basis- over replying to me? No way.” Tony smirks slightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and you find yourself blushing deeper- though you arch an eyebrow, more than happy to confront what he’s just said. “Cute?” you repeat, and he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe as he takes your appearance in. “Yeah. Cute. What, haven’t heard it before? Because I highly doubt that.” 

“Not from a man twice my age, no,” you tease, suddenly feeling a little more confidence as you sit up a little straighter, remaining on your knees, “and Peter does not drool over me. Trust me, our relationship is not like that. We’ve known each other for too long.” Tony keeps his eyes on you for a few moments before suddenly nodding towards your textbook. “Whatchya working on?” You blink, glancing towards your notes. “Psychology. It’s my major.”

“So how do you read me?” he asks, and you assume he’s being some type of smart ass- after all, whenever you tell someone your major is psychology they immediately bring out the “so you can read my mind” joke- but when you look up at his expression, he actually seems genuinely curious. “Lonely.” You reply candidly, eyebrow lifting slightly. “Bored, always running out of things to do so you focus way too much on work.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s because I save the world for a living. Kind of has to be on my mind 24/7, doesn’t it?”

“Yikes, getting a little defensive, hm, Tony?” you tease with a smirk, knowing he can handle it. “That’s never a good sign in counseling…”

“Oh, are you my counselor now?” he scoffs, but the corner of his lip is tugged slightly upward, clearly able to banter just as much as you. “Alright. I’ll bite.” He comes into your room and sits down at the edge of your bed right next to you, looking at you expectantly. “Tell me, O Mighty Therapist, what should I do to alleviate my pain?” he questions dramatically, and you laugh, reaching out to nudge him. “Maybe stop being a pain in the ass to other people? Let them in for once?”

He listens thoughtfully and you're expecting a snarky comment, but instead, he replies bluntly in a low murmur with a raised brow, “What if I want a certain someone to let me in?” It takes you a few moments to realize the innuendo, your blush immediately returning once you do. “Tony…”

He leans in, his eyes focused on yours. “I won’t tell anyone…” You stare up at his features, your breath slightly heavier. You feel a bit of guilt but the desperate want is overpowering it- come on, he’s Tony Stark, and he’s here in your bedroom asking you to fuck. Maybe it’s not for the best reasons, but you decide you don’t care. You grab his face and pull him down, kissing him fiercely in response.

Everything happens so fast. His lips move against yours in intense synchrony, his hands grabbing your waist to tackle you down onto your back on the bed before he reaches out to shove your textbook and notebook off the mattress entirely. You gasp but continue to kiss him, your legs naturally moving to wrap around his waist to keep his body pressed close against yours, already feeling turned on from the friction between you. Judging by the bulge currently pressing against your inner thigh, it’s safe to say he feels the same. 

Neither of you even realize how absorbed in this kiss you are- you’re moving, practically rolling all over the place, until you roll off the bed itself. A squeal escapes your lips as both of you go tumbling onto the ground- thankfully carpeted- and you laugh breathlessly as you stare up at him, still underneath him. “Oops,” you whisper, but he just smirks and leans down to kiss you again, muttering huskily against your lips, “That’s alright, sweet cheeks, I can fuck you just as good on the floor too.” Your smile fades slightly, but only because of how aroused you’ve become just from hearing him. You’ve only ever slept with one guy before, and he was nowhere near as experienced or bold as Tony. You definitely needed this. 

He notices your expression and smirks, staring down at you as he moves one hand down to rub his fingers against your shorts. “What’s up, Y/N? You like that idea? Me fucking you into the floor of your bedroom, with your door wide open?” Your lips open into a needy moan, though you completely forgot about the door situation. Fuck. You glance to it nervously, but he only applies more pressure to your clothed entrance, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re adorable, sweetheart. Think of it as a little adrenaline rush, hm? You have to take some risks sometimes, right?” He slips his fingers into your shorts and panties, rubbing your clit directly as he breathes out, “That’s my therapeutic advice to you…”

“A-ah…! Tony!” you moan lewdly, arching your back and staring up at him with wide eyes. “Please… I need more…”

He gladly obliges, his smirk growing wider as he eyes you hungrily. His fingers pump you skillfully, sliding in and out of your entrance and stretching you out, his thumb simultaneously teasing your clit. You’re a breathless mess of whimpers and whines, your head rolling back and your eyes shutting from the pleasure. The boy you were with before definitely didn’t know how to use his fingers. Tony, on the other hand, moves at the perfect, steady pace, actually listening to you to understand what you like and what’s working. The way he slightly crooks his fingers and expertly maneuvers them in subtle but hard hitting gestures inside your tight entrance is slowly making you uncoil- when he feels you tighten around his digits, he grins triumphantly. “Go ahead,” he commands breathlessly, “cum all over my fingers so I can taste you already…” 

You obey with a gasp, coating his fingers with your release- he withdraws them and places them in his mouth, looking at you with a hungry little smirk. “Delicious,” he growls, his devious eyes filled with lust. 

“Take off your clothes,” you breathe out suddenly, and he blinks before chuckling, pulling back slightly and obediently starting to unbutton his shirt. “For the record, I’m the one in charge here, but I also wanted to strip anyways,” he tells you playfully and you laugh, taking your own tank off feeling thankful you didn’t wear a bra that day. That would have been way too much work- you need him now. He stares down at you amazed, biting on his lip. “Damn. Your body is something else.” You widen your eyes upon seeing his cock when he removes his pants, clucking your tongue as you mumble, “I could say the same about you…”

He smirks and presses his throbbing erection against your sensitive entrance, his breaths heavy from anticipation. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, doll. Think I’m already addicted to you.” 

He thrusts into you roughly at that moment, letting out a groan of pleasure as he pins you down against the floor. You cry out in happiness as you arch your back towards him, rocking your hips upwards against his and holding onto his back tightly. You don’t even care that you’re on a rug right now- comfort is the least of your concerns when he’s stretching you out so nicely, his brown eyes filled with hunger as he stares down at you in arousal. “You look so pretty underneath me, Y/N,” he murmurs huskily, grunting with eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his dick entering deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. “And you feel… mm… better than words can even describe…”

“Tony…! Oh, God, Tony- mm…!” You’re at a loss for words; the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you over the edge, filling every crevice of your mind with euphoria and delight. Your body’s beginning to quiver, your walls tightening around his cock- he smirks weakly in satisfaction, knowing you’re close. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, beautiful, I want you to cum for me… God… damn…” 

Just as promised, he releases inside you, the feeling adding to your pleasure- you gasp in delight as you cum, your head rolling back and your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling. He lays on top of you for a bit before slowly lifting himself off, looking down at you with his signature smirk. 

Before he can say anything, though, a voice belonging to a certain web-slinging eighteen-year-old boy standing at the doorway with a wide open mouth screams:

“What the fuck?!”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark fic

[angeltrapz]

Logan/ David kinda grew on me and I want to know more about what you think of them lol

(Also want more content for David too cuz he deserves better)

I actually read a fic once where they were dating and that's. All it took for me to warm up to the idea! So it makes me happy to see that there are other ppl interested in them too.

I like to think they met at the hospital tbh! We know from the original short film that David was an orderly at a hospital (which I actually HC to be Angel of Mercy, aka Lawrence's original place of work - part of this is also bc I think it'd be absolutely hysterical if Adam AND David both nabbed themselves a hot doctor At The Same Hospital) and that Logan has a medical background (not just as a medical examiner, but possibly also as an x-ray technician, if we take into consideration the fact that he was the one to accidentally switch John's x-rays), so I think it makes sense for them to have met that way. I kind of see it as like... David making the first move? Because I think Logan would still be a bit tepid toward the concept of dating after Christine; he loved her so much and we see that in canon, so I think it'd have to be David to make the suggestion.

I HC them both as bi, though I believe that David probably has more experience with dating men than Logan does. The way I see that happening, as I feel David is pretty laid-back and chill (at least before his test), is he literally just walks up to him like "Hey, I know we've spoken a little bit before, and I know we're not super close, but would you maybe wanna do dinner sometime?" and Logan just sort of has the response of, "...Like a date?" because he doesn't really have a lot of experience here, with dating men OR dating again in general, as I believe he probably didn't date for a long time following his wife's death. When David confirms that's what he meant, though, I feel like Logan would have this little internal dialogue of me??? You want to go out with me???, but verbally he just goes, "Yeah, sure," and they make plans!

Their relationship in general is healing for both of them; personal HC time again: I think David has probably had,, some Experiences when it comes to dating, both because he's trans and people suck, and because, like Adam (though again this is Another HC), I think he probably has trouble with discerning when people are Shitty. However, Logan is kind, respectful both to David himself and of his boundaries, and he just understands. They already have the whole Jigsaw Survivor mess in common, and I think that they both haven't really... processed that? Or at the very least, David hasn't, so talking about their experiences candidly with someone they know has at least Some understanding of that they've been through is very, very healing for both of them. There's no judgment, no unnecessarily rude questions, and they feel safe with each other.

For me I see them being really sweet!! Maybe not quiiite to the level of Adam and Lawrence, as I think they're both more reserved in that respect, but there's definitely no shortage of sappiness, ESPECIALLY from Logan. Lots of petnames, casual touches, leaving little post-it notes for each other around the apartment/house, frequent "I love you"s, the works. Even when David stops working as an orderly following his test, he still comes in almost every day on Logan's lunch break to spend time with him and will often bring a little something with him. They're super easy-going, and there's a lot of affectionate teasing as well. They laugh a lot, which is a bit foreign for both of them, but it's a welcome change.

I think David would be good with Melissa once he and Logan are serious enough for them to be introduced - I HC Adam and David, at least, to be good with children, though neither of them are sure why lol. I think he'd be very conscious of her feelings, because he knows that he's not Christine (not that Logan OR Melissa would expect him to be), that it's probably a bit of an adjustment for her to see her dad dating again, and I really think he'd be sure to treat her the opposite way his parents treated him, because David Knows what shitty parents are like. Overall this leads to them bonding after a bit of time to adjust to the change, and they become quite close! I think it would take quite a bit for her to feel comfortable with doing so, definitely a few years, but eventually she asks if she can call him dad and David has a bit of a meltdown later that night with Logan over it because!! What the hell he's a dad!! She wants to call him dad!! All Logan can do while David is babbling is smile because Wow That Is A Lot Of Emotions. It's all good though!!

Something interesting here, though, is that if we consider Jigsaw 2017 as canon (which,, I know not a lot of ppl enjoyed that movie but I Did,,), then as the original creator of the Reverse Bear Trap, Logan is indirectly responsible for David's test. I don't think he was all that involved in the games - I think for the most part John took care of that before recruiting (blackmailing) Hoffman - but he still created the thing. Because of this, I typically prefer to ship them in a Non-Disciple!AU, as that is A Lot for them to work through otherwise. It's kind of on par with the idea of Adam finding out Lawrence is a disciple - the knowledge would create a rift that would be damn near, if not entirely, unrepairable, and if their relationship could survive such a revelation, it would undoubtedly be irreversably altered. It would take a LONG time to earn that trust back. Personally I think (again, just like Adam) that it would cause David to break things off permanently, not just because his boyfriend has been working with/previously worked with Jigsaw, but also because He Created David's Trap. I just don't think David could move on from that. Likewise, I think Logan would be absolutely devastated but completely understanding of Why David felt that way.

Another scenario that pops into my head when thinking about that though is since Logan wasn't really involved with the games, there's a good possibility that while he created the RBT, he might not have even known David would be tested, much less that he'd be tested by his own creation. I personally don't see Logan as having a very big part in Anything until Jigsaw 2017, just because he had Christine and Melissa to worry about & because he wasn't interested in that side of things, so it would make sense that he would have no knowledge of John's plan to test David. There would still be some issues, especially on the trust front as David isn't sure he can even trust that Logan is telling the truth, but there miiight be some hope there? Only if Logan stays completely out of it afterwards (aka, not hosting his own game/killing Edgar). I haven't thought too much about this side of things but there's that.

Overall I think of them as being very happy, with more than one avenue of understanding between them, and I see their relationship as being particularly healing in more than one way. The kind of couple where they might as well be married if they're not already lmao!! David is very good with Melissa and that always warms Logan's heart (he takes Melissa's opinion on things, Especially dating, into consideration always), and David loves that he has a little family now <3 I love them your honour. Thank you for this ask + I'm sorry it took me so long to reply!! (+ I agree wholeheartedly that there should be more David content + that he deserves better!!)

#asks #david #logan #if you want to make it more fun: include logan's bestie keith too! I'm poly myself and that's reflected in my writing a lot lol #the way I see that situation working out is that logan is dating keith and david but either david and keith aren't dating #or it takes them a bit to get to that point! #anyway. thank you anon I NEVER talk abt logan/david and I really shld rectify that. I want to write smth for them eventually #I have so so so many ideas up in my head. I dunno when a fic with these two would happen but I would like to write one!! #also regarding the triplets hc: I think specs is also good with children but they make him nervous #much like adam and david he's scared. not bc he thinks he'd be a bad parent but bc his childhood still affects him #and has left very deep emotional scars that he's still processing so having a kid makes him just like (alarm bells 24 hour version) #SORRY this is a lot of tags #long post