#the cover will be this really nice pink paper with a rose pattern on it from my vintage set

[proteuus]

I want to cut up pages from a bible to bind into a journal but I wonder if my parents would be mad at me lmao

#tmrw i think i'll start this new journal #the cover will be this really nice pink paper with a rose pattern on it from my vintage set #and the tracing paper i like to bind into all my journals will look absolutely peak in there #and the lace doyleys (apparently thats how its spelled? idk thats what it says on the package) will be v good #im trying to think of what else i want to bind into there #if i thought ahead i would've bound hamlet pages into the sailor journal and r&j into this one #but thats ok #those pages are too small anyway i had to stick em together #this new journal would look really good as a collage style one but its too girly i know i wont use it #so i dont want to put all that Effort into it #it's way easier to make the clean cut ones #yeah idk what else to bind in there tho. i think bible pages would be solid #im going for vibes like i work for marie Antoinette and its the french revolution #and i know the revolutionaries are right but i also know they'll kill me and im trying to make peace with my death #so. Yeah lmao

[gubler-me-up]

Red Lingerie

Request: Can I ask for a Sub!reader fix please? Some heavy nsfw?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Very simple request but did I ever struggle to think of something LOL I hope it checks all your heavy NSFW checkboxes and it satisfies your craving! Happy reading! 😏

Couple: Dom!Spencer/Sub Fem!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, slight bondage, spanking, slapping, dom/sub dynamic, spitting, swearing

Word count: 5k

————-

Valentine’s Day was a day to celebrate the love between two lovers. Too bad your lover was away during the day. You two wanted to go out for a nice Valentine brunch, go for a romantic walk down by the lake before going home for the day to enjoy each other’s company. It was supposed to be extra special considering you two hadn’t spent a lot of time together for weeks.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend had an unpredictable job. He left a week before Valentine’s Day which earned him a huge, exaggerated sigh from you before you accepted he would be absent. You were excited to show him the special outfit you had planned for the night portion of your Valentine’s Day extravaganza. It was a little number you had picked up a few months prior because you felt as if you dripped sex in it.

When you tried it on in the store and looked at yourself, you felt as if you were the most beautiful version of a femme fatale. The mesh babydoll dress with mid-thigh high matching mesh stalkings that had a cute lace pattern at the top. The lace at the top of the stockings matched with the red lace thong that accompanied the outfit. Faux red feathers decorated the bottom of the mesh babydoll dress and a generous amount of the feathers covering your breasts. You knew it had to be yours immediately for not only your eyes to appreciate but for Spencer’s eyes as well.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the lingerie hanging from your fingertips as you pressed it up against your nude body. You sighed as you thought of what could have been. You tossed the outfit aside as the chances of Spencer coming home for Valentine’s night was slimming by the hours. Even though you weren’t going to wear it you decided you could at least get ready as if you were about to wear it. You opened the cupboard and pulled out your favourite lotion that made your skin feel amazing. You then pulled out your hair products and tools.

You reached for your phone on the bathroom counter to change the playlist on your phone to something uplifting. Sometimes you needed the motivation to style your hair into something decent. You noticed a text from Spencer on your lock screen. You raised a curious eyebrow as you saw the message he had sent you. A smile instantly spread across your face and you could feel your heart race in excitement. You put down your phone before picking up your red lingerie piece.

You placed it against your body again. You admired yourself in the mirror once more but this time you looked more energized, over the moon even. You used your free hand to press the lingerie closer against your body as you rand your hand down it to mimic how Spencer’s hand would caress your body in a few minutes.

“I guess I am going to be his little whore tonight.”

You spent the next 20 minutes preparing yourself for his arrival. You knew how much he loved seeing you all dolled up for him. It made the unwrapping process so much more enticing for him. He loved stripping you from perfection down to the desperate whore you masked behind your perfect hair and put-together look. You loved the way he looked at you once he had you how he wanted you. It was as if you were his candy he wanted to indulge in over and over and over again.

You made sure your hair was perfectly done with not a single strand out of place. You made sure every part of your body had your favourite lotion portioned on it. You then pulled up your mid-thigh high stockings before slipping on your lace panties. You then completed your ensemble with the red baby doll dress. You made sure to fix your hair in the mirror one last time before leaving the bathroom to get yourself positioned.

Before you went on the bed, you went to the dresser and selected his favourite perfume of yours. You sprayed your neck once on the left and then once on the right. You lightly sprayed your breasts for him. You then sprayed your wrist and rubbed your wrists together to pass on the scent to the other. You placed the perfume bottle back in its spot and went to turn off the bedroom light.

When the lights went off the only light pouring in was from the February moonlight. You went to the side table to turn on the lamp to add a bit more light to the room. You didn’t waste any more time lingering on the small things as you knew he’d be home any minute now. You crawled in the bed to get yourself ready for his arrival. You laid on your side with one hand propping your head up with the other laying on your side.

It was as if he knew you were ready for him because not even a minute passed by when you heard the apartment door open. You felt your heart race again as you could hear him place his keys down on the side table next to the door and heard his footsteps walking towards the bedroom. He wasn’t even in your presence yet and you were already getting wet at the mere thought of all the things he would do to you.

He opened the bedroom door to see you waiting for him on the bed with your red lingerie. He had a large bouquet of red and white roses wrapped in a light pink wrapping paper. You believed he wanted to surprise you with them but you had beat him to the surprise of the night. He stood there, frozen, analyzing every inch of your body.

You smiled at him. “Are those roses for your favourite whore?”

He smirked before he started to move again. He walked over to the empty chair in the room and placed the flowers on it. He looked back over at you before taking off his suit jacket. You eagerly changed your position from laying down to being on your knees on the bed.

He walked over to you as he started to undo his tie. As soon as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but put your hands on his face. You looked at him with an overbearing lust in your eyes as you caressed your hands down to his neck to pull him closer to you. You took a hold of his undone tie with both hands as you stared into his desired driven eyes.

“Please make me your whore for tonight,” you begged.

He tried his best to refrain from breaking into a smile from how needy you sounded. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs and caressed them gently up and down. Your muscles loosened up under his touch and you just wanted him to wreck you already.

“I don’t think you’re ready to be my whore tonight,” he said.

You pouted. “I am. I want you to fuck me like a dirty whore. I want you to use me as a cum dump.”

He nested his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his steady breathing on your neck before he planted two kisses on your neck. You let out an eager moan as you tugged on his tie to get some kind of response from him. He hit your earlobe softly before placing his mouth close to your ear.

“You want to be a cum slut not just a simple whore,” he whispered.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be. If you want me to be your cum slut, I’ll be your cum slut. If you want me to be a filthy whore, I’ll be-”

You gasped as you felt him shove two of his fingers into you. You felt his fingers steadily flick against your g-spot. You moaned out a hungry as you desperately wanted him to continue. He had you right where he wanted you and you wanted to continue being in his lustful grasp.

“I’ll decide what you are and what you’re not tonight. Do I make myself clear?” He asked.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered.

He took out his fingers from inside you. He leaned away from you and you immediately dropped your grip on his tie. From the way he looked at you it was clear he was ready to use you like the whore you wanted to be treated like. He placed his fingers on your mouth and then shoved them in so you could taste yourself. You moaned in delight to let him know you enjoyed the taste.

“I need a good vessel for my dick. Do you think your whore mouth can do that?” He asked.

You nodded in response. He took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately gripped your neck. He pulled you close to his face so you could see how disappointed he looked.

“I think a desperate whore like you can use her words,” he said.

“My whore mouth can do anything for you, sir,” you said.

“I don’t want to hear any gagging. You’re going to take my dick like a deprived whore. Am I making myself fucking clear?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you responded.

Without another word exchanged, he pushed you down to the side with you looking up to the ceiling. He gripped onto your hair and yanked your head so it would dangle off the bed. Even though you could see he still had his pants on you didn’t wait to open your mouth to prepare yourself for his dick.

You watched eagerly the upside-down image of him undressing. He threw his tie on the bed which could only mean he was planning on using it later. He threw off his dress shirt and flung it on the ground. He then unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them off just leaving his underwear on.

He approached your mouth and rested his bulge on your mouth. You licked the fabric which concealed what you really wanted in your mouth. You could feel his hard dick through the fabric which made you overly excited and overly wet.

“Pull it off if you want it so bad, whore,” he demanded.

You didn’t hesitate to yank his underwear off. His dick slapped you on your face as it bounced out which made you smile. With no more delay, he shoved it in your mouth. You tried your hardest not to gag on it, especially when he went right into fucking your mouth.

He pulled down the top of your babydoll dress to reveal your breasts. He gripped your right breast into his right hand with a mighty grip on it. You let out a powerful moan in response. He slapped your breast and you felt the sting linger before he did it again.

“Did I tell you to make a fucking noise? Your mouth is for sucking my dick, not for commentary,” he said as he slapped your breast again.

Your facial muscles flinched but you didn’t make another sound. If you wanted to be his whore for the night, you had to do everything he said. You knew what he had in store for you was going to be a night of sexual thrills.

You then felt his hands messing around with your underwear. You heard a slight rip of lace but didn’t care since you expected it to happen. When he was in the zone, clothing couldn’t keep him from getting what he wanted from you. You soon felt his fingers back in you stroking your g-spot. You tried your best to refrain from moaning even though he was pushing you towards it.

“Your whore pussy’s as wet as your fucking mouth. I can’t choose which one to cum in first,” he said.

You felt your legs tremble as he started to stroke your g-spot even more intensely. You tried your best not to make a single sound and continued to let him fuck your mouth. Your spit started to leak out of your mouth and go down your face. You could feel it go down your cheeks, past your forehead, and into your hair in an overflowing, bubbly stream.

Your focus switched from your hair to your clit when you felt him fiercely circling your clit. You couldn’t even hide how badly your legs trembled and you could no longer hold back your moans. You let out a cry of a moan repeatedly. Your sounds only motivated him to go faster and faster around your clit. His thrusts inside your mouth started to become more rapid and deep to the point where his dick was touching your throat.

“I thought I told you not to say a fucking word while I’m fucking your disgusting whore mouth,” he said.

You couldn't even respond to plea your case as his thrusts weren’t lightening up and neither was his hand around your clit. He stopped circling your clit and landed a harsh slap on your overstimulated clit. You let out a muffled shriek as the slap tingled throughout your body. He then went back to circling it for a few seconds before slapping it again. You arched your back as you muffled out another shriek.

“You were fucking begging me to treat you like a whore and you can’t even put out like one. You better be the fucking best cum slut right now if you want a chance to get fucked,” he said.

He went back to circling your clit as you tried to maintain your cool. Then you felt it. You felt a tingling sensation overcome your body. You tried to hold it back. You tried extremely hard to. Then he put his fingers back in you to stroke your g-spot relentlessly. You had no choice at that point but to cum.

You arched your back further as you let your orgasm take over your body. You moaned loudly around his mouth but he didn’t let up from fucking your mouth. He also wasn’t done with you. You felt him roughly squeeze your left breast in response to you having an orgasm. You let out a muffled shriek in response.

He went back to rapidly circling your overstimulated clit. You were still on a high from your orgasm so you couldn’t control anything any longer. You could feel tears forming in your eyes from how overwhelmed your pussy felt from his touch. You muffled a scream around his dick as you felt yourself squirt. He slapped it one last time which nearly made you jolt off the bed.

“You weak fucking whore. You get a little overstimulated and you decide to cum,” he said.

You didn’t attempt to moan anything. He didn’t give you the chance to anyway. He grabbed the back of your head to push your mouth all the way on his dick. You couldn’t hold back your gag as he hit the back of your throat. You could feel the tears drip from your eyes to join your saliva in your hair.

You couldn’t even move back from it with the way he gripped your head. He had you exactly where he wanted you and where you wanted him to have you. In no more than a few seconds you felt his cum in your mouth. You coughed since it tickled the back of your throat. He soon pulled it out to look at you. You let out a few more coughs and some of his cum managed to leak out of the side of your mouth.

He didn’t ignore your little slip-up. He slapped you on your cheek as a response to wasting his cum. You took it with no complaint because you knew you were being bad for wasting his cum after you begged for it. You already disappointed him with disobeying his demand of you being quiet and now this. You were definitely in for some big trouble.

“What kind of fucking cum slut wastes cum?” He asked as he slapped you again.

“A bad one, sir,” you whimpered.

“Don’t beg for shit if you can’t fucking deliver,” he said with another slap to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be a good cum whore from now on, sir,” you begged.

He grabbed you by your hair and sat you up on the bed. He then yanked you off the bed with your still slightly shaky legs. You got off and he pulled you down to your knees so you were face to face with his dick.

“Apologize to it,” he said as he shoved your face into his pelvis.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Sorry for what?” He asked.

“For wasting your cum,” you said.

He shoved your head down towards his balls. You assumed he wanted you to put them in your mouth to show how really sorry you were. You placed them in your mouth and sucked on them until a fresh pool of saliva escaped your mouth. He then pulled you away and forced you to look up at him. You could see this desire mixed with fury in his eyes. You could feel a tingle run down your spine again. If he could send chills down your spine with just a look he definitely owned you. You could have just melted into a pool with the way he looked as if he wanted to fuck his rage into you.

“Do you think you deserve punishment?” He asked.

“Yes, I do, sir. I’ve been such a bad cum slut,” you said.

He slapped you on the cheek with his free hand. “Don’t dare call yourself a cum slut until you can properly take cum. Fucking get up.”

He didn’t give you the chance to stand on your own two feet before he yanked you up by your hair. He pulled off your red babydoll lingerie dress and tossed it aside. He then threw your torso onto the bed, leaving your legs to be close to the floor. He pulled down your underwear and you stepped out of it. You felt him roughly squeeze your right ass cheek as if he was trying to find the right spot or the most tender part. You knew exactly what he was going to do and only a second later did he do it.

You let out a scream as he harshly spanked your right ass cheek. It stung so bad you knew it was going to leave some sort of bruise in the morning. He then did it again in the same spot. You screamed again as you tensed your right ass cheek from the pain. You knew his hand was in the air for a third one on the same spot so out of instinct you placed the back of your hand on the spot he hit. You could feel the heat radiating off from it.

“You fucking slut,” he said.

He grabbed your wrist and yanked it away from the spot he had hit. He then grabbed your other wrist and held them both together with his right hand. You turned your head to the left to see what he was going to do next. You saw him reach for his tie he had thrown on the bed and knew the chances of you using your hands for the rest of the night were slim.

He tied your wrists together as tightly as he possibly could. He made sure you weren’t able to interfere with his punishment any further. He yanked on his tie to see if it was tight enough. You knew they were tight enough just by the way they squeezed your wrists. They would definitely leave a mark once you were untied.

He noticed you looking at what he was doing. You immediately looked away so he wouldn’t think you were trying to overpower him in any way. You were genuinely curious as to what he was doing. You knew he wouldn’t accept that answer at all.

You felt his body closer to you as if he was leaning over you. You felt his teeth dig into your shoulder and you let out a short yelp. Then he did it again and again and again across your shoulder until he reached your ear. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t make another weak sound.

He grazed his lips on your ear. “This is exactly why a slut like you needs someone like me to keep you in line.”

You nodded your head still without looking at him. You felt his hand grab the back of your neck. He turned it so you had to face him. His eyes were low and his breathing was oddly calm and steady. You hadn’t even done much work but you knew you looked wild and untamed compared to him. Exactly how he loved you to look.

“Isn’t that right, slut?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered.

“You’re going to take your punishment and you’re going to fucking love it. Are we clear on that?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He leaned up and didn’t waste a second. You felt him spank the same spot for the fourth time. You buried your face into the sheets to prevent your scream from hitting his ears. He grabbed your hair and yanked it up.

“Say how much you fucking love it,” he demanded as he sparked the same spot.

“I fucking love it,” you screamed with tears stinging your eyes again.

“Keep saying it,” he said as he spanked the same spot again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeatedly shrieked as he continued to spank the same spot.

He then let your hair go. You let your head fall onto the bed in silent relief. You breathed heavily into the sheets as you took the time to catch your breath. It didn’t even sting anymore. After the fifth time it almost became numb. Obviously your punishment wasn’t over though. He yanked your head up by his right hand this time.

“Next cheek,” he said.

His announcement was followed by a deafening spank on a fresh canvas. You bit your lip hard as you tried not to scream. You let your tears freely escape your eyes as he did it again.

“I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeated as he spanked you repeatedly.

“That’s what a fucking cum slut should act like. Pathetic and desperate,” he said as he spanked you again.

“I’m a pathetic fucking cum slut,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked your hair. “And what are you fucking desperate for?”

“Your cum in my pussy,” you screamed as he spanked you again.

He yanked you up so you were standing in front of him. He shifted your body so you were facing away from the bed. He yanked your hair back so you could see his face. By the way he looked at you, you knew it was time. You tried to refrain from smirking to avoid another round of spanks.

“You better make me fucking happy,” he said.

“I’m your fucking cum dump, sir. I won’t waste it again, I swear,” you said.

He then pushed you over so you were at a 90-degree angle. You had nothing supporting you by your legs and your back. Your hands were still tied and you had no bed to rest on. You knew this was his way of testing how committed you were to his need for you to be his willing cum slut.

He grabbed your ass and you let out a soft yelp from the sting that ran through your body. You waited in anticipation as you could feel his dick outside of your hole. You wanted to move back so bad to take him into you fully. You had to keep reminding yourself about the stinging of your ass to calm your desire for him to fuck you.

He cut you from your thoughts as he pushed you back onto his dick. You shrieked out of surprise as you felt his whole dick enter you. He kept pushing you back and forth instead of thrusting into you. It was a unique choice but a calculated move. He for sure wanted to test you and you weren’t one to make a mistake twice. It was hard keeping your balance as your stockings were sliding against the hardwood floor.

“Keep your fucking balance, slut,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” you moaned.

You straightened yourself up as you continued to let him use you in the way he pleased. You could hear him making slight groaning sounds which you hadn’t heard all night. You just knew he was in love with the way his dick felt in you. You started to think he realized how good of a cum slut you could be with a pussy like yours. Your mouth could use a bit more work but he could never complain about the way your pussy hugged his dick so well.

“Your pussy sounds as if it’s ready for cum,” he said.

You took the time to hear the way your pussy sounded when his dick went in and out of you. You smiled at the sound of it. He then sped up the pace. Nothing but his groans, your moans and the sound of your juices sounded the room.

“My slut pussy wants your cum in me,” you moaned.

He continued to move you back and forth on his dick at a rapid pace to what you guessed was to come to his finish. Your legs started to wobble and become unstable as his strokes made you unbalanced. You arched forward as the pleasure of him fucking you was taking over your whole body.

He smashed you against him all the way. You shrieked at the thrill of having his dick all the way in you. You didn’t even care about the sting you felt when your ass hit his body. He grabbed your hair to pull you all the way up so your body was against his. He pulled your hair back so you could look at him again.

He placed his mouth against your neck to bite it. You moaned loudly in satisfaction and widened your eyes as you felt him full you with his cum. You bit your lip as he slowed down his pace to gently fuck his cum into you.

“Let’s see how good your slut pussy took my cum,” he said into your neck.

He pulled out his dick from you and reached down to rub his finger up your pussy. You shivered at his touch and let out a soft moan as he inspected. He brought his finger up so you both could see how well you did. There was a little bit of cum on his fingers. You eagerly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He gave in to your eagerness by glazing his cum on your tongue.

You gladly took his cum into your mouth. You made sure to show him how happy you were to have his cum in your mouth again. You wanted him to know you wouldn’t dare waste another drop of his cum. You opened your mouth to show him every trace of his cum was gone.

“Now that’s how a cum slut takes cum,” he said.

“Does that mean I can always be your cum slut, sir?” You asked.

“You have major potential, slut,” he said.

He used his other hand to grip the side of your cheeks. He squeezed them hard enough for you to open your mouth. He spit into your mouth. He let go of your face and watched you swallow his spit. You opened your mouth to show him you could swallow more than cum to make him happy.

“I’m dedicated to being your personal cum slut,” you said.

“I love to hear that, slut. I can’t wait to use you again,” he said.

“Maybe another day though. I think I overworked you tonight,” he said.

He let your hair go as he backed up from you. He untied your wrists and you could feel the circulation back in your hands. You watched him go over to the chair and pick up the bouquet of roses. He looked back at you with a gentle smile but still had lust glazing over his eyes. He walked over to you with the bouquet.

“For my favourite cum slut,” he said.

You smiled as you took the bouquet from him. He grabbed your face to pull you closer to him. He hit you with a huge, pleasure-filled kiss. It felt as if he waited to give you this kiss from the time he walked through the door. He backed away from you and leaned into your neck to kiss it.

“I know you wore that perfume for me. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I love a cum slut who cares about the little details for me,” he whispered in your neck.

“I would do anything for you, sir. Thank you for the flowers,” you said.

He leaned up from your neck to look at you. He grabbed your neck gently which brought a proud smile to your face. He grabbed your ass which caused you to yelp pathetically. It brought a smile to his face.

“There are also chocolate covered-strawberries in the kitchen for you. Eat up so you have the energy to be my cum slut again. I want to give your mouth a second chance,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t disappoint this time,” you said.

He kissed you gently on the lips. “I love to hear that. Happy Valentine’s Day, slut.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

[unbridgeabledistances]

ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3

--

It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.

“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.

Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.

He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.

Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”

Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.

“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”

Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”

Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”

“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”

Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”

Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”

Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”

Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”

Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…

“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”

Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.

“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.

“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”

Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”

Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”

Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”

Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”

Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”

Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”

Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”

Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”

Ian smirked. “Green?”

“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.

Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”

Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”

Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”

Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.

When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.

Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.

“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”

Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.

Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”

“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”

Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…

As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.

Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”

The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”

Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.

Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”

Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”

Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.

A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.

Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.

“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”

Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”

Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”

“Yup.”

Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”

“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.

Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”

Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.

But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.

By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

part two here!

#my bbys definitely do not seem the type to celebrate valentines day #but i had to make them try lol #lmk if u are interested in a part two! #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey

[mouse-fantoms]

Study Session Sabotage

Read on Ao3!

A jealous Luke sabotaging a Julie and Nick study session

It was clear to both of them after the whole cradling each other’s faces, there was definitely something more there.

Sure, Luke played off the “oozing chemistry” comment from Reggie, and tried to prove that he has chemistry with everyone (i.e. passionately serenading Reggie with Edge of Great). His friends already knew though. Of course there was also Julie’s “Perfect Harmony”. She imagined dancing with a ghost for pete’s sake. Then the, “This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” It was only a matter of time before they talked about it.

The conversation went as normal as a conversation between a lifer and a ghost could be. They had a mature conversation about the topic. They both acknowledged their feelings for each other as well as also realizing how interesting of a relationship they have is (the whole having a crush on someone who you theoretically, can’t be a thing with, forbidden romance so to speak). At least now they got it out of the way and not too much changed between them. If anything, it helped make their songwriting sessions together stronger. Which was why Luke was confused over how Julie had been acting during this session.

“Okay, something is obviously on your mind.” He finally stated after awhile into it.

They were sat on the couch together, his journal open on the coffee table in front of him, scribbles of whatever lyrics came to them.

“Hm?” He caught her attention.

“That’s what I mean! You’re usually in the zone when we write together.”

“In the zone?”

“Yeah. You get this shine in your eye, your smile becomes brighter than thousands of stars as lyrics come to your-” he realized he was starting to go on one of his ‘I-love-Julie Molina’ speeches as Alex and Reggie had called them. “What’s on your mind?”

She sat up from the couch and went on the other side of the coffee table to distance herself from him.

“It’s just...” she was fidgeting with her fingers.

“You can tell me you know.” He stood up from the couch to face.

“Nick asked me to help him study.”

She expected an answer from him but continued when she didn’t get one, “And I said yes.”

“That’s it?”

A confused expression came on her face. “You’re not-”

“What?” He smiled. “You think just because whatever this thing going on between us is, you can’t hang out with other people?”

“Well it’s a study session.”

“He does have a crush on you.” Luke argued.

“Well you would know.”

The comment made air come out of his nose. “You want my permission to have a study session with him? Sure, of course you can.”

“...You’re sure you’re ok with it?”

“Of course. Even if it wasn’t one I’d still be cool with it.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Promise!” He put his hands up in defense. “I wish you and Nick a fun study session.”

She smiled. “Ok, now that that’s out of the way I do have this one lyric in mind.”

~~~

“So what are you guys studying?”

“Oh my god!”

Her reaction to his question came after his multiple other ones. Reggie and Luke were behind the counter as she was setting up the kitchen table for her study session. She didn’t mind the company whenever she was doing things around the house. That was unless one of them had been doing what Luke was. Luke rested his chin on his hand on the kitchen counter.

“Really?” Reggie had the same reaction as Julie.

“Can’t I be curious?” He defended.

“I thought you said you were cool with it?”

“I am but can’t I just... want to know more about the event?”

“Event?” Reggie folded his arms. “It’s a study date.”

“Not a date!” Julie repeated for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Right, if it was you probably would have worn that pink blush dress.” Luke input.

“Oh and that dress paired with black flats, that would be a look!” His friend added.

“Oh! And a nice rose gold necklace too-“

The two noticed Julie’s crossed arms, unimpressed with their conversation. “Since when did you two become fashion experts?”

“There’s only so much you can do when you’re rotating through a trash bag of clothes.” Reggie answered.

“Nick is just coming over to study.” She repeated yet again. “You’re asking more questions than my dad did.”

“When is he getting back, by the way?” The jet black haired boy wondered.

“Not until later.”

She saw a disappointed look on the bassist’s face. “Maybe you can hang with Alex when he gets back. I would say Luke but that’s if he gets done babysitting my-”

“Babysitting?” He sounded offended.

“You are hovering.”

“You are.” Julie agreed alongside Reggie.

“I’m cool with it, I promise! I can show yo-” Before he could ‘defend’ himself even more the doorbell rang.

“Behave.” She warned going over to grab the door.

When she went to get the door she heard part of a conversation between the two ghosts. It went something along the lines of Reggie offering that Luke and him could work on something in the garage. Luke politely declined saying that he needed to prove to Julie that he was cool with the study session. He proposed that Reggie could perhaps go to the studio and write a song of his own. The ghost perked up remembering that he had another ‘Home is Where my Horse is’ to add to the roster.

“Hey!” Nick greeted once she opened the door.

“Hi! Come on in!” She opened the door wider for him. “You can set your stuff down at the table.” She closed the door and gestured over to the table.

“So is it just us?” He asked, setting his backpack down against the leg of the table at the seat that was in front of the counter.

She saw Luke, who was still behind the counter with his chin propped up, raising his eyebrows as if to tell her ‘see... a date’ wanting to be told later he was right.

“Yeah,” she responded as he got his materials out of his bag and set them on the table where he would sit, “my dad and brother will be out for a bit until then it’s just us.”

“Cool. Thanks for agreeing. I know last time you said you probably wouldn’t be able to because of your band.”

Julie looked away when she sat down across from him, reaching down to get her materials from her pack. Her attention was caught when she heard the noise of the chair being suddenly pushed out. She looked up and saw Nick, barely sitting on the edge of the chair, and then Luke, who stood just behind the chair, seemingly twiddling his thumbs.

“Did you just have your floors waxed or something?” Nick asked, adjusting himself on the chair and scooting himself in.

“No…” she trailed off looking at the likely colperurate.

“I just pulled out the chair and it seemed to slip.”

“Mhm… slip…” she was still glaring at the one she suspected.

“Well,” he reached into his bag and pulled out his textbook, flipping through the pages until he got to the right one, “I guess we could start.” He bent down back into his pack to get his pencil case, until there was a loud clap.

Both Nick and Julie’s heads went to the textbook that both knew was previously just open but now showed the cover.

“Didn’t I-” he looked to Julie who seemed to be staring daggers passed him, “And then it-“

“It’s probably the wind.” She seemed to say through her teeth.

“Wind?”

“The AC. You know how it is.”

He nodded, not entirely knowing how it is. He shook his head to forget the book that suddenly closed on its own. He opened the book back up and placed his pencil case on top to ensure it stayed open this time. He put his pencil on the left side of the book while he went to grab the papers that went with the work. Julie, meanwhile, was also getting her materials out in front of her.

He pulled out the papers and went to grab his pencil only to be met with the table’s surface instead. Looking, the pencil had rolled away from the textbook. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if the pencil hadn’t made it one.

The weird part, it didn’t continuously roll away. He would go to grab it. It would then roll, then stop and when he went to grab the stopped pencil it continued to roll. Seeming like it was purposefully trying to get away from his grasp.

“Maybe you should turn down that AC.”

“Hm?” She asked looking up to him to see his outstretched arm and the pencil at his fingertips.

“The wind seems to really be blowing my pencil away.”

“Does it now?” She seemed agitated.

“Either that or you have some sort of gho-“ he caught himself, “...a phantom…”

“Huh?” This was the one time Nick could tell her attention was fully on him.

“How come your band is called ‘Julie and the Phantoms’?” He put his arm back under the table, discarding the writing utensil at the of it.

“Oh…” an answer took a moment to form, “Well Flynn actually came up with it.”

“Why the phantoms?” The question didn’t really come to mind until now.

“Well… the effect of when they join me on stage looks kind of like that of a ghost.” Technically was not a lie.

The more he thought about it, the more questions came. “You’ve never been into tech kind of hologram stuff before.”

“Well…”

“And even when the hologram projector worked at the dance… you still didn’t perform with them and the WiFi was working completely fine for school WiFi.”

He saw her hesitate. “Maybe you should-��� she went to the cabinets, “Would you maybe want some water or anything?”

He noticed her wanting to change the subject. “Sure…”

She nodded telling him that she understood. She got a glass and filled up his cup. He thanked her as she began to get herself a cup as well.

He would have taken a sip as soon as she put it on the table if it wasn’t for when he reached for it, the cup decided to inch north. This occurrence had happened too often in this short amount of time that a pattern was noticed. Nick looked to Julie who was busy putting water in her glass and turned his head back to his. To test his hypothesis, he again reached for it only to have it yet again move inches out of his reach. Things would only move if Julie wasn’t looking.

Maybe he could get the cup if he was quick enough. A few attempts had occurred at trying to grab it before it went out of his grasp, none were successful. Especially the last attempt, well in a way he was. He was too quickly though. As the cup moved his fingertips grazed it and made it clink on the table, spilling the liquid.

Julie looked up, hearing the clink, glaring rather annoyed just next to him.

“...Maybe I’ll just get my own water.” Nick grabbed the now empty cup and went over to the sink. He pulled on the faucet’s handle and no incident had occurred, until less than a second later when the water from the faucet began to spray all over him. As if someone had put their thumb on the spout of the faucet, making the water squirt all over.

“Nick I-” She went to try to help the completely soaked boy, but realized there wasn’t much she could do.

“Maybe we could reschedule this study session,” he tried to wring his sleeve out in the sink, “once you have this ‘AC’ under control.” He went back over to the table.

“Nick I’m sorry I-”

“Molina it’s fine.” He looked up from putting his things in his backpack to her behind the counter. “I just have the feeling this ‘AC’ is targeting me. Tell me whenever you have it worked out then we can maybe try this again. See you at school partner.” Julie watched as he put his bag on his shoulder and headed out the door.

“Well, not much studying was happening during the study date.” She turned around to see Luke stood at the sink. She crossed her arms at him. “...What?”

She shook her head at him, let out a huff of air and put her arms down as she went over by the oven to get the towel that was slung over the handle.He followed her as she took the towel to wipe up the water on the floor of the kitchen.

“What exactly were you supposed to be studying because that was not happening.” He kept noticing her annoyed look as she went over to the table to clean the water over there.

“...Maybe I could-” he tried to reach for the towel in her hand but she pulled it away from him, obviously not in the mood. Maybe later though, she would be in less of a mood.

~~~

“Are you still upset?”

He poofed into her room after she hadn’t come into the garage for a songwriting session. She was on her bed, possibly doing work for a class not paying any attention to when he poofed in.

He took a seat at the edge of her bed. “How are we supposed to do a songwriting session if you’re still giving me the silent treatment?”

“You’re right. If I continue you may douse me with water.”

“...Well not on you.”

“What happened?”

It was hard to ignore the question when she was staring right at him. “What do you-”

“You know exactly what I mean! You said you were cool with it!”

“I was!”

“Really? Because trying to pull his chair out from under him, rolling away his pencil and dowsing him with water, just to name a few, didn’t seem like you were! You were acting like a jealous boyfriend!”

He perked up. “Is that what-“ he cleared his throat, “are we-”

Based on her angrily getting up from her bed, after an eye roll, that was clearly not a conversation she wanted to have right now.

“Right, right! Not a discussion right now.” He stood up to face her across the room. “...I thought I would be cool with it.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place. I told you that it was just a study session.”

“But he asked if it was only you two.”

“He was just curious who was in the house. Or maybe he wanted to say hi to dad and Carlos since it’s been a little bit since he’s seen them.”

“Oh… well…” He started to feel slightly guilty.

“For the record, he knows how I feel about dates.”

“He does?”

“He already tried to ask me out.”

“...tried?” The more and more the conversation continued the guilty kept sinking in.

She nodded. “And I said no.”

“...well now I feel really dumb.”

She stepped closer to the bed. “Why didn’t you just trust me that there wasn’t anything other than studying?”

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you it’s just…” he looked for words to say, “...I don’t know what happened.”

She crossed her arms, not buying his statement.

“I don’t know I guess I just- I was being jealous.” He sat on the corner of her bed. “I guess some part of me wanted to be Nick.”

She sat next to him, wanting him to elaborate more.

“If I was alive that maybe we could do study sessions like that, maybe I could go to school with you and come by your locker and-”

“If you were alive,” her voice brought his attention from his hands to her beside him, “we wouldn’t have met.”

He shared her little smile.

“I’m sorry. I should have left you two alone to have your own study session. I didn’t mean to get jealous. He seems like a good guy.”

“I think you and him would get along.”

“You do?” He seemed taken aback.

“Both of you get passionate about what you like, both of you play guitar-”

“Does he now?” He raised his eyebrows at his ‘competition’.

“Oww!” He said in response to Julie jabbing her elbow in his arm. “I was kidding!”

“I don’t know, you might soak him in water again.”

“...That did cross the line.”

“For all I know he could be scared to come back again even if I got the ‘AC’ under control.”

“He definitely knows it’s not the AC.”

He saw the lightbulb in her head go off. “What?”

“You’re one hundred percent fine this time with a study session between Nick and I?”

“Yes.” He confirmed.

~~~

“Come on in.” She let open the door for Nick. “Thanks for agreeing to come back after… last time.”

He seemed cautious as she closed the door. “Yeah… no problem.”

“Don’t worry you won’t get sprayed with water this time. I had a talk with the ‘AC’.”

“The ‘AC’ doesn’t happen to be in your band… does he?” His attention was suddenly turned to the kitchen table seeing from his peripheral vision a chair move. “...Did that just-”

“He let out your chair for you this time.”

“...Well it’s already going better than last time.”

She gestured towards the table for him to sit. She followed behind as he set his bag down and sat. He looked cautiously around.

“I promise, you have nothing to be worried about.”

“Just so we’re on the same page, the phantoms in your band are most definitely ghosts?”

She nodded.

“Oh. ...Cool.”

“Cool?”

“I mean you guys already make amazing music, it's an added layer that they’re ghosts.”

“You probably have a lot of questions.”

“Right now, the one who haunted me is cool with me now?”

“I have a strict no haunting rule but yes, he is fine with you.”

He suddenly had a thought. “...You can see them all the time can’t you?”

“Yeah we don’t really know why.” She noticed what he said. “...How’d you know that?”

“In the hall, when I came up to you at your locker. You fixed what you said about telling me to shut up and then punched in the shoulder too, something you never do. Just before went to practice for our dance… you said your mind wondered and you called me Luke. Luke was there wasn’t he? He’s the one who haunted me.”

“You catch on quick.”

He leaned in to whisper, “Are you two a-”

“I would prefer to have this conversation when he’s out of the room.” She directed her statement next to him.

“Oh come on!” Luke let out. “I’ll be helpful this time. I promise no water will be slipped. Let me show you that- ugh fine.” He could read her expression. “I wish you two a nice study session.”

She turned her head back to Nick, indicating that Luke probably left.

“Between you and me, his guitar skills are-”

“Probably not so bad yourself either blondie.”

“Luke!” She scolded seeing him poof in behind the counter.

“Right, right. I’m gone. Sorry!” He put his palms up and poofed out once again.

“This time,” she looked to Nick, “no more distractions. I promise.”

“Hey as long as I don’t get haunted, it’s fine. He can haunt you all he wants.”

“He can… can’t he?” She smiled to where the ghost was moments ago before her and Nick actually began their study session, free of a jealous ghost this time.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp netflix #jatp fanfic #jatp juke #jatp julie #julie jatp #julie molina #jatp luke #luke jatp #luke patterson #jatp nick #nick jatp #nick danforth evans #jatp reggie #reggie jatp #reggie peters #jatp fanfiction #jatp one shot

[another-dr-another]

insert those coins babey! no point in holding onto them if they aren't used !

You Now Own:

001 - Mineral Water (x2)

Drawn from the ocean depths and rigorously purified. Ideal for a modern on-the-go public unsatisfied with tap water.

002 - Sea Salt

A basic seasoning produced from the evaporation of seawater. It also sees use as a preservative.

003 - Ration

A set of canned and vacuum-sealed foodstuffs. The taste isn't bad, and a certain snake that wants to play hide-and-go-seek is just crazy abou- wait, what?

005 - Ramune

A sweet, lemon-flavored carbonated drink. A marble plugs the opening of the uniquely designed bottle. The bottle can also be reused if you bring it to the ramune store.

010 - Ship In a Bottle

A intricate creation, a model ship within a bottle. Made with time, love and care.

012 - Envy-Enducing Envy CD

A CD of songs by Japanese band Envy. Full of unreleased tracks/first recordings.

014 - Children's Book

A children's book about family and forgiveness! The plot is about a sister who can't get along with her younger brother, but they find common ground and bond over causing trouble for their parents.

016 - Sour Soda (x2)

No flavor is listed on the bottle other than sour, which may just be a flavor in and of itself. It's a near black shade of blue... I think.

017 - Gentleman's Guide

A book that's meant to help shape you into the perfect gentleman. However, it's rather demeaning towards the reader, which doesn't feel very gentleman-ly.

018 - Masculine Cologne

Very masculine, can only be used by masculine people. No weaklings allowed, or people with the common sense to smell it before purchasing, and realize it smells really bad.

019 - Fancy Sword

True to it’s name, it looks very fancy, and very intimidating. However, it's only for show, and rather blunt- perhaps inexpensive?

022 - ??? Alcohol

It's something alcoholic. This is a school, it should be confiscated, and you won't be receiving any more information.

024 - Hair Cutting Scissors

Snip snip snip, meant for hair-cutting at home, as these aren’t professional grade. Still though, try and make it even, okay?

025 - Purple Hair Dye

Pretty purple hair dye guaranteed to not come out of hair for weeks! More of a pinkish-purple than the box advertised, but still pretty.

028 - Constellation Skirt

With patterns matching actual real constellations. Despite matching the night sky, it almost seems sun-rise themed, with its pink background and pale gold stars.

030 - Bottled Tea

When heated up, it's meant to help soothe upset stomachs, and muscle aches. Popular among student athletes.

031 - Alarm Clock

It's a digital alarm clock. One of the few normal and functional things here, and it's the thing that screams at you to wake up every morning.

032 - Broken Stopwatch (x2)

It won't stop running, no pausing or restarting. You can however make it record different laps.

034 - Baseball Cap

Perfect for keeping the sun out of your face! This one is all black though, so it'll retain a lot of heat.

038 - Card Game (x3)

One easy to play, and popular among kids. The front side of the package shows a family of four playing.

039 - Reminder Booklet

A small pamphlet that gives reminders for daily things, such as eating, drinking, taking meds, etc. Also has room for you to add in unique personalized reminders.

041 - Tiovita

A Japanese energy drink sold at most convenience stores. Pretty inexpensive, and with a nice fruity flavor- but hey, only one per day!

044 - Lie Detector (x2)

Fun for the whole family! Though not incredibly accurate... wait, how do you know that?

045 - Evidence Encylopedia

A book focusing on evidence found in crime scenes. From most overlooked to most common, this book talks about it all.

049 - Track Award

A award from a middle school track and field award. The recipient of the trophy seems to have come in second in two events, and first in one.

050 - Plane Tickets (x2)

Anywhere, anytime, round trip tickets. Probably given as some sort of thank you for volunteering to get off of a accidentally over-booked flight.

051 - Therapy Advertisement (x2)

Some therapist endorsing themselves. Upon looking at the services they offer, I don't feel very inspired to go there.

056 - Soulmate Sweatshirt

A sweatshirt that supposedly brings the most comfort not when you wear it, but when holding someone wearing it. Currently smells strongly of... lavender?

057 - Scrap Metal x3

Seems to be broken bits and pieces of some sort of engine. Could be repurposed, or simply a cool trinket.

059 - Old Journal

It seems to be from the late 80s, and kept being written in up to the early 90s. There's a entry on the last page, synopsizing the birth of the owners son, and how proud the owner is of his now five year old.

060 - Paper Boat

A piece of paper that's been folded into a boat. Apparently you can fold and tear it as you tell a story to provide a visual aid for the story, but no one here knows how.

061 - Calendar

It's got pictures of internationally famous towns on it! This particular one has been written on with a note on almost every day.

064 - Face-paint Kit.

A professional face-painting kit. However, it’s missing it’s red, yellow, blue and white paint- those colors have been all used up.

065 - Life Quote Sign (x3)

A sign with some stereotypical life quote written on it in flowery lettering. Most likely to be seen hanging in a kitchen.

066 - Throwing Rings (x2)

Meant for fair games. If you have good enough aim, maybe you'll win a prize!

067 - Pleasant Savior

Seemingly a CD filled with various performances by the same person. I haven't played the CD, so I don't know what kind of performances he does though, and the name is off-putting.

069 - “Fresh” Bouquet (x3)

Somehow still smells sweet with flowers that look flawless. It's comprised of roses that have been dyed rainbow, all of them.

070 - Hair Ribbons (x3)

They come in a variety of colors, but the Monomono Machine only dispenses yellow. Guaranteed to make the wearer feel a certain sense of self-satisfaction.

071 - Girls Profile

A student profile from a all-girls academy. The paper is water-stained and some of the ink has run, so it's hard to make out what's on the paper.

073 - Baby Doll

It seems to be from around the 90s and... not quite well-loved, but well-played-with. Doesn't come with the original clothes... or hair.

075 - Dream Catcher

Made by a past SHSL. It's actually been pretty effective, and is part of the reason they got scouted.

080 - Retro Game

It's handheld, old, and extremely broken. The screen has been shattered so it displays wrong, all cracked and distorted.

081 - Blackout Curtains (x2)

Completely block out any and all light. Strong enough to plunge a room into darkness.

084 - Noise-cancelling Headphones

They completely block out all sound! Also come with the ability to adjust the size of the band, and will stay on your ears even if you pull the band down to your neck.

086 - Wall Decals

Stickers you can put on your wall. They do a decent job of covering up holes in said walls.

087 - Antique Stuffed Animal (x2)

It seems to be bunny themed, and dressed in clothes you'd see on babies in the 1930s. It's in pretty good shape, other than a few tears where the lace trim at the end has had it’s stitches removed.

088 - Embroidery Kit

Or rather, a needle and thread to be used for embroidery. There's only one needle, and one spool of thread, but hey, it’s something.

090 - Scented Markers (x2)

A full rainbow set, all with their own unique smell! Be careful though - it's hard to get these out of clothes.

092 - Fake Christmas Tree (x2)

Too plastic to be a real tree. It's also incredibly small, but real trees can be small too, so that doesn’t really mess with the realism.

093 - Hair Gel

Top of the line hair gel, and completely unopened! Helps you style your hair and keep it in place, but doesn’t give it the nicest texture.

095 - Instant Noodles

Just add water to get something hot, salty, and/or spicy! A nice meal if you're looking for something that's quick and easy, you can dress it up some too.

097 - Drink Mix

A powder used for ??? warm drink, made with milk, tastes like... something? You try it and tell me, but it smells good at the least.

099 - The DSM-I

Self-explanatory, it's the original version of the DSM, from 1952. Index cards have been slipped in-between most of the pages, talking about what happened with the information listed there.

100 - Collection Of Old Ads

Dating back to the 1920s. A magazine full of ads from a different time, it’s somewhat of a miracle the paper held up while the ideas in it didn’t.

101 - Wooden Ruler

It's a wooden ruler. Used for measuring things, nothing else- why do you ask?

102 - Building Blocks (x3)

Stacking and stacking, and sending it all crumbling down. And then you rinse and repeat.

104 - Cutesy Hair Clips

Snap clips in pastel colors and covered in designs. Oddly enough, there isn't any non-pastels, unless you count the few white clips.

106 - Newspaper Collage

Seems to be a collection of snippets from newspaper articles. There must be hundreds in here... it's a big collage.

107 - Cropped Sweatshirt

Cropped specifically due to a parent saying not to. The sweatshirt seems to be related to some organization, with the big fancy emblem on it.

109 - Pins And Patches

A mix-and-match bag full of enamel pins, buttons, and iron-on patches. Good luck finding something to do with them all.

110 - Origami Paper (x2)

Simple origami paper, in a variety of colors and patterns! Comes easy to tear out of a book, which includes instructions on basic origami types.

112 - Colorful Band-Aids.

They come in many colors, designs, even different sizes. Some seem to be made to cover up paper cuts, others meant to help skinned knees and scraped elbows.

Thank you for visiting the Monomono Machine!

~*~

Maeda, narrating - And I thought the coins were kinda heavy...

Maeda - What now?

[Free Time Event - Uehara]

{Head to Your Room}

#dra #au #fangan #fanganronpa #yuki maeda #chapter 2 #daily life

[moonyandsaturn]

Paper Rings

little dorlene fic that you can also read here

The moon was high, hanging in the night sky with smoking smells flowing to it. Out the window into the midnight streets.

“I’m not sure this is exactly how I want to meet your friends.”

“What do you mean this is perfect!” Lily smiled.

Dorcas looked around at the abnormally large flat. The walls were covered in nicely printed wallpaper and slightly dusty frames hung paintings Dorcas couldn't remember from any of their art history classes.

“Geez, this place is giant,” Dorcas whistled as Lily continued dragging her up the stairs. The sound of laughter from a higher room (with even higher people in it) was made clearer.

“Yeah, Sirius is a rich asshole,” Lily replied, earning a laugh from her. “Even painted all those paintings himself because he wanted to be original,” she mocked.

“Ha! So who's all here?”

“Oh so there's Remus who you’ve met. Then this is Sirius’ place so obviously he’d here. And then we have James of course.” James was Lily’s fiance. They got engaged about 2 months ago and the wedding would come along soon enough.

“Is that it?”

“No, there's Marlene too. You’ve probably seen her around. She's on the volleyball team.” Dorcas shook their head not remembering any of that. “Well, that's fine anyway they're over here.”

Lily opened the door to a large room. It was sort of a lounge room, it had a TV and all that. Normally they wouldn't be upstairs though.

The two of them entering earned a few “Heyyys!!” and “It was about time you guys got here!” James got up to give Lily a kiss before leading both of them over to the couch they were all on, Remus was already rolling a joint for them.

“Dorcas right?” they looked up at the person asking. She must be Marlene . The girl talking had dirty blonde hair pinned up in a messy low bun. She was wearing a much too large brown leather jacket with a band tee and jeans as well.

“Um, yeah. They/she,” Dorcas had grown accustomed to just telling people their pronouns as a greeting. It just made things much easier.

Marlene smiled back. It had a sort of crookedness to it, in between a smirk and a grin. “She/her.” Dorcas nodded back as she received the fag from Remus.

The talking went long into the night, or morning that is. It was an interesting group of people. Marlene and Sirius were probably the more extroverted and outspoken out of them, though Sirius was kind of whipped and would shut up if Remus said so. Marlene seemed to just constantly flirt with her. Dorcas understood it may just be how her personality seems to her but sometimes it got annoying. Of course she already met Lily and James long ago and didn't learn anything new about them.

Marlene seemed especially interested in her dating life.

“Yeah, and then we broke up. They were pretty nice but it just didn't make sense for us to be together.”

“they?” Marlene looked up from her phone. looks like she was listening

“yeah, me and my partner.”

“Ever dated a girl before?”

“Maybe” Dorcas winked and turned back to finish her story.

By maybe that meant never, and Dorcas was simply playing the pronoun game. Dorcas did have a preference for girls right but they had only dated guys up till now. 3 actually. First was her high school boyfriend that lasted 5 months, Charlie Robeson. Charlie came out as trans several years later so maybe Dorcas should have said her high school girlfriend . 2nd was Gideon Prewitt. They dated for 2 years. Two years of her life wasted really. Dorcas shook the thought from their head. Gideon was a douchebag who could go fuck himself. Her last boyfriend wasn't really a boyfriend at all, they fake dated to get someone else jealous. Ah, yes fake-dating Remus Lupin was probably the best out of her romantic encounters, excluding the part when him and Sirius forgot to lock the bathroom door and Dorcas happened to walk in at the wrong time.

They got into the elevator up to her flat. It was eerily silent at this hour of the morn, creepy almost. She played with her keys for a moment, trying to find the right one before pushing the door open to her modest flat.

Dorcas tossed themself onto her bed kicking the duvet over her body, snoring lightly to sleep and the sun started making colorful patterns in the sky.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

“Oh, come on Meadowes! Surely you must like me a little after 2 months!”

“Marlene, you’ve been asking me out as a joke for 2 months. sorry I’m not looking to get humiliated!”

Dorcas could hear Marlene catching up to her, a stupid fucking smirk playing on her lips. “What if it's not a joke?”

“Then we wouldn't really be here, huh?” Dorcas said, pulling her bag tighter to her.

“Just a small dinner! You don't even need to come home with me.”

“What a generous offer,” Dorcas rolled their eyes.

“Oh, you know I'm joking,” Marlene smiled, walking backwards to try to keep up with her. “Come on, what's your favorite food? We can go get that when you're free.”

Dorcas sighed and stopped to face Marlene, she was only a couple inches taller than her. Maybe 5’10 or 11. “What about when you’re free?”

Marlene beamed. “Anytime is good.”

“Not now it is, get your ass over here McKinnon! Actually go get the ball then come back!” A booming coach's voice came from the volleyball court.

Marlene bent down to pick up the ball and gave Dorcas a little two fingered salute before running back to the court. “See you later, Meadowes! For dinner!!”

“Hey! That wasn't a yes!” Dorcas called back to her, not receiving a response and shaking her head as she walked away.

Neither of them had each other's phone number so it's fine. To be quite honest, Dorcas wouldn't mind a date. Marlene was attractive and funny, just very very persistent. She could be compared to James in high school, poor Lily.

Dorcas took her thoughts away from their almost date and walked over to the bus stop to meet up with some people for her group project. They convinced everyone to meet up at their favorite coffee shop. Dorcas was unreasonably excited to get some coffee in her system, specifically mocha with some foam and chocolate drizzle on top.

Curse you Remus, now I'm addicted to shit Dorcas thought as she drank almost the entire thing under 5 minutes. She got her things out to wait for the others.

she got home at a decent time, just as the moon rose and the sun set. Dorcas made themself some popcorn to watch a movie with.

Ding! Dorcas checked the microwave but the popcorn wasn't done. Ding! She realized it was her phone and picked it off the counter to see the messages from an unknown number.

Marlene: Hey I thought we were gonna have dinner :(

Marlene: also don't hate me Lily was the one who gave me your number after she saw me stalking you

Marlene: also this is Marlene probably should have said that first so you don't think I'm a creep

Dorcas: You are a creep

Marlene: ouch

Marlene: I thought you liked me Meadowes

Dorcas: I never said that

Marene: Maybe you’re in denial ;))

Dorcas: hmmm let me think

Dorcas: no

Marlene: :((((

Marlene: well now that I can text you when are you free?

Dorcas: you really are annoying aren't you?

Marlene: nah just know what i want

Marlene: soooo????

Dorcas: I'm watching a movie right now

Marlene: ok?

Dorcas: ok so you can come over you persistent arse

Dorcas: you can get my address from lily too creepy

Marlene: is that my new nickname??

Marlene: I deal with the name calling just for you, see you in a minute :))

Dorcas sighed and looked over at the microwaved that was now smoking and smelled of burnt popcorn. She cleaned it up and opened up the windows before enjoying watching some stupid reels on instagram.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Marlene grinned at Dorcas opened the door.

“Har, har,” she deadpanned and let her inside.

“What's that?”

Marlene set a bag on top of Dorcas’ dining table. She didn't answer and instead pulled out one of those bags of sweet people normally bought at halloween.

Dorcas laughed at the size of it. “I don't think we’ll be able to eat all that.”

“That's what you think. I could survive solely off of starbursts,” Marlene replied.

“The orange ones are the best.”

Marlene turned to face them with her mouth open with disgust. “Those are the worst ones!”

“No, the worst ones are pink.”

“I think we need your senses checked, love. There's definitely something wrong with your taste.” Marlene moved closer and Dorcas’ cheeks warmed up at the pet name.

“C’mon I just got Disney plus so we can watch something on there.”

Marlene followed Dorcas to her couch giddily, “Oooo, I vote for Princess and the Frog.” She plopped down on the other side of the couch and Dorcas tossed her a blanket.

“Yeah, okay. Princess and the frog and Mulan are probably my favorites.” She got the remote to turn the TV on.

“Well, maybe your taste isn't all that damaged,” Marlene smiled before turning to watch the movie.

Movie rolled for the full 1 hour and 38 minutes and for part of the credits. The two didn't talk much only making comments here and there, laughing at things they thought funny and pointing when something interesting happened.

“I would die to have something like Ray and Evangeline.”

Dorcas looked over at Marlene who was still watching the credits rolling in tune with the background music.

“The firefly and the star?”

Marlene faced her once again.“Mhm, yeah. I’d wait my whole life for that.”

“Yeah, it's sweet isn't it? How much he cared.”

“Mhm,” Dorcas’ breath hitched. they didn't know whether they were moving closer or if it was Marlene. Oh, it was Marlene and how welcome the closeness was.

Dorcas closed the small gap between their faces. Place a light kiss on the girls lips. When she pulled away only a second later Marlene still had her eyes closed, a soft smile set on her face. She opened up her eyes to see Dorcas who probably looked like a nervous wreck. Marlene's smile broadened.

“Can I kiss you?”

Dorcas fought back her own smile before sitting up and pushing their lips together again, this time less unsure.

They were like that for a long time, hands running in each other's hair (which Dorcas was surprised her curls didn't get tangled in). Pulling each other closer by the neck, running thumbs over soft cheeks.

They eventually pulled apart to breathe. “I wasn't expecting that till maybe the third date.”

“Not’s not a date,” Dorcas held in a laugh and looked away from Marlene who was eyeing her.

“Of course not. Not after you insult pink starbursts,” Marlene said before turning her back to Dorcas, claiming a spot on her lap, sort of using Dorcas as a back rest. they didn't mind. It was the perfect height. Dorcas lifted their chin onto her head and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. She quickly places a kiss into her hair before letting the night's sleep take over them.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

1 year later:

Dorcas blinked herself awake.

“Morning.”

They looked up at Marlene who had her arm around her head. “Morning. Did I oversleep?”

She looked away from the book she was reading. Ever since Dorcas moved in They’d been reading all the books on her bedside table and now Marlene had to catch up. “No, think you got a bit of a cold, sorry.”

“It's okay,” Dorcas closed her eyes again, feeling comfortable in their girlfriends embrace.

The night before the whole gang took a trip to the beach. At night. Cause they were all utterly stupid. Marlene went into the ocean first urging everyone else to also. James jumped in after free to wallow in his youth and was happy to get a break from babysitting. Harry was an amazing kid but his godfather was also Sirius so Harry too was a bit chaotic. Dorcas eventually joined everyone in the freezing water, Dorcas could have sworn they turned blue.

Marlene turned abruptly, causing Dorcas’ head to fall back on the pillow which wasn't nearly as comfortable as her. “Would you ever want to live together?”

Well, thats an odd conversation starter. Dorcas laughed. “We already are.”

“No, I know that. I mean when we're out of uni, working and all that.”

“Oh, I never thought of that.”

“I’m just saying we don't have to decide I just thought maybe-”

“I never said I didn't want to,” Dorcas cut her off before Marlene started rambling. “I think it would be nice.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah, so stop worrying, creepy,” she laughed.

Marlene gave them a deadpan expression. “When are you gonna stop calling me that!”

“Never,” Dorcas grinned. “Sooo, would you just wanna live together or?”

Marlene laid back down, looking at the ceiling and Dorcas leaned over her. “I don't know. We could drive away and live in the country maybe. We can work from home so our dreary Mondays aren't so dreary.”

Darcas laid down next to her. “We’re bound to have fights and stuff, though.”

“That's fine,” Marlene faced her, but didn't move her body. “We wouldn't be able to be happy if we’re not angry sometimes.”

Dorcas sat up again, pulling Marlene up with her. “Would you ever want to get married?”

Marlene rolled her tongue on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. Don't have that much money though. Can't get you anything shiny and nice like you deserve.”

Dorcas took Marlene’s hands in theirs.“I hate accidents but you know? I didn't really mind it when we went from friends to this. You’re the one I want, Marlene McKinnon. And I’d marry you with paper rings.”

#taylor swift inspired #dorlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #lesbian marlene #marauders #marauders era #lily evans #modern au #harry potter

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #10: In which Cameron tries to spoil Donna

[CN: food and eating mentions]

.

.

In January of 2021, Donna realized and voiced the obvious while watching television one day: “We’re really not gonna be able to have people over for Galentine’s Day, are we?”

Cameron didn’t always entirely enjoy the spectacle or debauchery that sometimes happened at Donna’s Galentine parties, but she was still sorry that it wouldn’t be safe or advisable to celebrate that year. Gently, she replied, “Not considering a Galentine’s video conference, then?”

“I guess I could do that,” Donna sighed heavily. “It won’t be the same though. And we won’t be able to give out gift bags!” she wailed. 

Donna looked forward to organizing a party for February 13 every year, but her favorite part of Galentine’s Day had always been making and giving gift bags filled with expensive indulgences to their friends, and Cameron had never really understood it. It was, in fact, one of the very few things that Cameron didn’t love about Donna, and she wasn’t sure why it bothered her. Donna certainly had the money for it, and what better way to spend your money than on giving nice things to your friends? But no matter how hard she tried, Cameron just couldn’t shake her discomfort with the gross materialism of it. 

Still, Cameron tried to be encouraging. “You could send care packages, couldn’t you?”

Donna thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Putting all that strain on the postal service just so I can send my friends expensive scented candles and handmade journals?” Her face collapsed into a look of utter despair at the very thought. “That just feels so ‘let them eat cake,’ doesn’t it?”

“You are not a naive and undereducated young queen who was bamboozled into inheriting a bankrupt and rapidly disintegrating monarchy,” Cameron said, patting Donna’s hand comfortingly. “And you’re also not a nameless, possibly non-existent princess in a non-fiction work by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, or Maria-Teresa, the Spanish princess who might have actually said that.”

With a bemused smile, Donna said, “I love that you just know that.”

“Yeah, well.” Cameron said, putting an arm around Donna. “Just because I have a reputation for being a princess-hater doesn’t mean that I actually hate them. I mean, look at who I married.”

“Cameron Howe, Defender of Princesses,” Donna said. “That has a ring to it? I’ll have to make you head of my queensguard when I inherit the throne.”

Cameron arched an eye brow at Donna. “Are you trying to tell me that you wanna play exiled gay princess and devoted butch lady knight?”

Finally and fully distracted from her galentine’s day disappointment, Donna laughed. And then she kissed Cameron.

***

Cameron got out of bed late that night and went downstairs for two hours. When she returned, Donna woke up briefly, and she said, “Hey? You okay? Where’d you go?”

“Never you mind,” Cameron said, getting under the covers. “I was making you some brioche to throw at the peasants.” 

“What?” Donna cried. Then she realized that Cameron was kidding and giggled. “Okay, okay. Keep your secrets.”

Curling up next to Donna, Cameron kissed her shoulder. Resting her head on her pillow, she said, “Good night, sleep tight, your royal highness.”

“Likewise, good Sir Cameron!” Donna said, falling back to sleep.

***

In early February, while Cameron worked on the requested Valentine’s Day decorations, Donna tried to come up with an alternate Galentine plan. She filled out cards and sent them early, and then she sent messages to everyone on her guest list to see if they might have time for individual video chats. She wound up scheduling early morning coffee with Tanya, an afternoon check in with Dr. Katie Herman, and cocktail hour with Risa and her partner, and also Cameron. She spent the next few days trying to come up with ‘something else.’ When she finally resorted to mopily looking through all of their saved and archived photos of past Galentine’s Day parties, she figured it out. 

Cameron woke up on the 13th to an email from Donna. While Donna fried eggs and bacon and poured mixed berry waffles, Cameron, sitting at the kitchen island, looked at her phone, and asked, “Did you email me this morning?”

“You, and many of our friends!” Donna chirped. 

Flatly, Cameron said, “If it’s a severed head, I’m gonna be very upset.” She clicked on the email with her thumb to read it.

The email said, “To my favorite galentine: while we can’t celebrate with our friends this year, we can give to others, and we also absolutely need to give as much as we can spare during this on-going crisis. So while I do love giving ridiculously priced candles and pens to our friends, this year, my gift is a donation in your name to Girls Who Code.” The closing of the email said, “With any luck we’ll be able to celebrate with our friends next year, but in the meantime: Happy Galentine’s Day! -xo DC.” 

And then at the very end of the email, there was an attachment, a photo of Cameron and Donna in the kitchen, preparing snacks, that Haley had taken at their first Galentine’s Day gathering. 

Cameron stared at the photo for a minute, and then asked, “Wait, did you make donations for everyone?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Donna said, as she opened the waffle iron. “To different places though, food banks, abortion funds and domestic violence support groups, bail funds, and Black and indigenous justice orgs.”

Overwhelmed by a rush of affection toward her wife, Cameron said, “I think that that was a great way to celebrate. Nice work, Boss.”

Donna’s blushed as she made their plates. “Thank you! I just hope it helps, somehow. Sometimes it all feels futile, you know? It feels less futile when you bring all your friend into it and then email them about it, though!”

They ate breakfast, and then before Donna could say anything else, Cameron said, “Okay, so, I’ve done something. Something that was meant to help cheer you up.”

“Oh?” Donna asked, intrigued.

Cameron got up from her seat, went around the island, and took Donna’s hand. Donna got up, and Cameron escorted her their living room couch, where Cameron had placed two large red gift bags. “You always said that everyone opening their gift bags together was your favorite part of all of this, so. I made two bags for us. It’s not the same as all of our friends opening our git bags together, but, it’s something?”

“Oh, Cam,” Donna frowned. “I love the pseudo but not-quite Gift of the Magi vibes, but, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t, but everything sucks so I figured why not,” Cameron said, picking up her bag and sitting down on the couch. Come on! Sit!” She picked up Donna’s bag, and handed it to her. 

Donna accepted the bag from her. She looked at it, and then said, “If this is a severed head, I’m also gonna be very upset.” 

“It’s not, it’s a gun rack,” Cameron deadpanned. “For the last time, sit, already!”

Donna sat down next to her, and with the bag in her lap, she started to pull out the pink tissue paper Cameron had crumped and stuffed into the top. “Okay, so what have we got first?” Donna reached into the bag, and pulled out a small plastic bottle. “Scented moisturizing hand sanitizer!”

“The white vetiver scent,” Cameron said, holding hers up. “I didn’t like it at first, but you were right, as always. Now it’s my favorite.”

“A luxurious yet practical item, and a fine choice!” Donna enthused. “What’s next?” She reached into the bag, and pulled out a large tube of aloe-infused hand cream. “Ah, an old standby, and another Emerson-Howe household staple.”

Looking at the tube that been in her bag, Cameron said, “I wanted to go with something fancy, but this stuff just works so well! I feel like we can never have enough of it.”

Reaching into her bag again, Donna felt some plastic wrap, and then pulled out a black and blush pink leopard print 100% silk face mask, packaged with its own silk case.

Cameron looked at her own navy blue and star patterned mask, and admitted, “This is the biggest splurge in here. But as long as we’re double masking….”

With a small sigh, Donna reached into her bag again, and found a set of silk scrunchies, with the same leopard print as her mask. “Oh, I was thinking about trying these! Thank you for remembering me talking about it.”

“What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t buy you the one thing you single thing you put off buying for yourself?” Cameron said. “You can try mine, too, I don’t think I’ll end up using them.”

Donna reached into the bottom of the bag, and found the next to last item, a small cardboard box. When she looked at it, it was a fresh tube of her favorite nude pink lipstick, which she’d been wearing since the late ‘90s, and had been meaning to repurchase. 

“I just got a drugstore lip balm for myself, nude rose is your color, not mine,” Cameron said.

Donna snorted. “That was probably the best way to handle it. Thank you for knowing my color.”

“That’s the end of what’s in my bag!” Cameron said. “There’s one more thing in your bag though, because we only need one.”

Donna found the last item. A copy of the Criterion release of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Donna held it up and said, “Oh…as I recall, you liked this movie better than I did!”

“Yes,” Cameron agreed, “but, you said that you liked it, and that you wanted to try watching it again at home. Which I thought we could maybe do sometime this month.”

Donna smiled at her. “Honestly, I would love that. It’s a date.”

Donna was about to lean in and kiss Cameron to properly thank her, when her phone, forgotten in the kitchen, rang.

“Ack, that’s probably Tanya!” Donna jumped up. “We’re supposed to ‘have coffee’ together!” 

“Go answer, then!” Cameron said. “I can clean this up and I can take care of the dishes, too.” 

“This was perfect and I love you!” Donna hurriedly kissed her, before rushing off. Already half way to the kitchen, she called out, “Happy Galentine’s Day!” behind her.

“Hard same, have fun, tell Tanya I say hi!” Cameron shouted after her.

#sorry but also not sorry for the gratuitous wayne's world reference! #happy galentine's day bbys #please try to enjoy it and celebrate your friends and loved ones as best as you can despite everything! #femslash february #femslash february 2021 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

[moonamite]

Chapter 11

Meta Knight turned to the streets as the sun rose over the horizon. Scarlet looked to him, eagerly. “Before you say anything,” Meta Knight warned. “Could you please refer to me as Valiant in public, to avoid detection?” He asked, using the most genuine voice he could manage. “The Queen isn’t one to forget those who betray her.” Scarlet nodded. “Alright, Valiant.” She snickered. “So, where’s the art store?” Kirby asked. “Right down there!” Scarlet pointed to the street on their right. “C’mon!” She chirped, tugging on Meta Knight’s arm. “They should be opening soon!” She bounced excitedly down the street. Meta Knight walked behind her. Hopefully nobody there notices my real colors through this cracking layer. Scarlet stopped in front of a colorful-looking building with a floral pattern, waiting for them to catch up. “This is it!” She announced. “This is where I get all my art supplies!” She explained. “Brushes, ink, paint, paper, you name it!” She opened the door, setting off a little bell. The cashier looked up from the book he was reading, looking alarmingly tired. “Scarlet,” She said in a sleepy voice. “You just here 3 days ago! What are you doing back already?” She groaned. “Solstice!” Scarlet squeaked, making Solstice wince. “I’m actually not here for supplies, I have some friends who need assistance!” She said, waving to Meta Knight and Kirby. Solstice looked over to them, looking extremely uninterested. “Ah.” She said. “I see. Carry on then.” She said, yawning as she looked back down to her book. Scarlet bounded over to the paints. There was... an extremely wide variety of colors. ”So, right now you’re green? Ok, ok, so... More green... But maybe we could mix it up a bit!” She said, her eyes shining. Oh, no. Meta Knight thought. Now were going to be here for hours. “Hey, don’t worry!” She said, noticing his face. “I already have some ideas! How about...” She paused, trailing a claw along the paint samples. She suddenly looked up. “Your body is green, but we have a pink-orange sunset in your wings!” She said excitedly. “Ooooo.” Kirby said. “Meta Knight is going to be soooo pretty!” he giggled. Scarlet turned her gaze to him. Oh no. “Meta Knight?” She asked, looking incredibly amused. “Did you change your name after you got to your new planet?”  “Well, yes.” Meta Knight answered. “I did become a knight of sorts. A protector, more accurately.” He corrected himself. “Oh, wow!” Scarlet said. “So cool! We just HAVE to use the heroic colors for a heroic guy!” She said, picking up the green, pink and orange paints. She hopped over to Solstice, making her jump. “We’ll take these, please!” She said enthusiastically as Kirby giggled. Solstice sighed and accepted the payment. She said nothing to them as they left out the door. “So,” Meta Knight said, “Are there any remote places to... erm... ‘Paint’?” He asked awkwardly. “Well, nobody is really awake right now, so... The alley will do, I think.” Scarlet replied, pulling him over to the back of the store. “Hold still while we paint you.” She said, trying her best to look absolutely serious. The paint was wet, and the brushes tickled a bit, but Meta Knight tried his best to hold completely still. “You missed a spot, Kirby.” Scarlet pointed out. “Oops.” Kirby said, quickly covering up the spot. “It’s ok!” Scarlet laughed, assuring him. I’m glad to see she’s nice to him. Meta Knight thought, gratefully. At least there’s one person here i’m pretty sure I can trust. He looked down at himself, feeling immensely stupid. If Dedede were here right now, he’d be having a fit. “Aaaaand there!” Scarlet said triumphantly. The paint was still a bit wet, but as long as Meta Knight was careful, he should be able to move normally. Actually, the colors didn’t look half bad. “Wow, he really is pretty!” Kirby noticed. “Gorgeous.” Scarlet said proudly. “I’d say you’re my best masterpiece.” Scarlet joked. “I can’t wait to show you to the others!” “Hey,” Kirby said tugging on Scarlet’s wing. “I’m hungry.” Scarlet stood up. “Oh, right! I forgot how hungry young Stelluses could be! Don’t worry little guy, there’s a place to eat not far from here.” She said. She was about to take to the air, but then paused. “Oh, wait. We should probably walk.” She said. “Why?” Meta Knight asked. “Because the paint isn’t completely dry, so It might get in the way.” She explained.  As the trio walked down the morning streets, Meta Knight could see some young Stelli gathered outside, playing and squeaking at each other. And he saw some of the shops on the sides of the road starting to light up. It’s so early. I suppose this is their schedule now. I can’t believe how much has changed since I left. Well... Ok, he could believe it. You know. Since it’s been 200 years. They made it to a simple-looking Café, and Scarlet entered first. “Cashew?” Scarlet said, shocked. “What are you doing here?” Cashew looked up from his meal, his mouth full. “Hmmmphh?” He said, his lips sticky with honey. What he was eating was different from the Honey-bites they had earlier, but it also had honey in it. “I thought you said you were going to get food, not snacks!” Scarlet growled, frustrated. Cashew swallowed. “Yeah, I did.” He patted the large sack that was seated next to him. A delicious smell was coming from it. “I’m just taking a, uh... a break.” He said, taking another bite. “A break?” Scarlet scoffed. “A break from what?” “Uhhhhh...” He said. He raised a piece of his snack to her. “Want some?” He offered. “No!” Scarlet groaned. “Fine, hurry up and finish your meal. But no funny business!” She said, looking exhausted. “Can I have it?” Kirby asked. “Sure.” Cashew replied, tossing the snack to Kirby, who caught it eagerly. At least everyone in the Rebellion seems to be kind to Kirby. Meta Knight looked down at Kirby, who was happily munching on the snack Cashew had given him. Meta Knight suddenly felt bad. Poor Kirby. 

He was so eager to meet his parents... But was he still eager, knowing how brutal this world can be?

#meta knight #kirby #Kirby fic

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 37

“You’re doing it again,” Tracy said once in the set with you for your next scene post lunch you’d mostly read through while Lee continued to bask in the hype of the news of how his film was doing numbers wise. Head turned your eyes fell on her and she said, “You are sulking. Are you sleeping?”

“Ya,”

Inching closer she asked in a try to be playful tone to ease out a smile from you, “Your teddy bear miss a phone call?”

“No, Richard called and messaged twice yesterday.” Her brows arched up through a smirk and you sighed, “He hid something in the closet. Spent weeks making sure I didn’t ‘know’ anything was there under his clothes and he left and now the cubby is empty.”

Her hand planted on your arm, “Oh, like a second phone? Or something?”

“Lee said he saw him at a jewelers in town while I was in New York for my table reads.”

“Oh,” she said with tone perking up.

“And I don’t even expect gifts, but he’s gone for months away from me and he left me a sweater and I’m trying not to pout at not getting the gift he’s so terrible at hiding that he has for me, but,” after a quick sigh you said, “A gift would have been nice.”

That had Tracy giving you a hug, an action luring Lee’s gaze from across the set to you and your moment of allowing your sunken expression read across your face, “Honey bunny, maybe it’s a welcome home to England present for when you see him again. I knew he was up to something, he is terrible at hiding things from you, even my sharing I was taking you for a manicure he was ready to explode for our weekend out while he was off on those night shoots.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll stop sulking.” She chuckled again and rubbed your back walking with you across the fake bar for your first marks and where she could find her drink covered tray prepped and ready to go.

“If my teddy bear left the country with the chance of more than a sweater I’d be sulking too. Don’t you feel bad, besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you with more than those studs in your ears since I’ve known you. You need some bling girl.”

“I really do,” you said twisting the ring on your left ring finger of metal flowers for this role feeling the necklace cold against your skin shifting under the collar of your furry collard coat once again.

.

All over the news the footage of the Oscars was being replayed, namely the clip from Adrien’s award for Lead male when he forced a kiss upon Halle Berry making you bury your face in your hands. “Didn’t even ask,” Lee muttered at your shift to plop your covered face on his thigh.

On your other side Tracy said, “And you have to work with that asshole. I look forward to the press of you bashing his face in.”

Lee said, “You and me both,” rubbing your back.

Tracy, “I still don’t like him, and you have to kiss him? I wouldn’t kiss him.”

Turning your head you looked to the replay and sighed, “Certainly don’t want to, but it’s just the one scene if I can’t talk Peter out of it.”

The press certainly didn’t help and while given the equivalent of a wag of the finger Adrien celebrated the win as the youngest male to ever receive it for Lead Male. Three days after his ride of that press wave and interview circuit the truth came crashing down to news of who was hired to play Ann Darrow. One sigh was his response to the question from a photographer on his path out and about for what he thought of the news only doubling down the urge to break down the actor’s resolve to loathe your being part of the franchise at his side.

 *

“Fifteen bucks, you are telling me you bought those for fifteen bucks?!” Chris all but shouted when his brother displayed the rings upon their arrival at his home from the airport.

Richard just had to show someone and figured Chris would be the best ally in this as he had helped him patch things up with you every time he flubbed things. “I bought the cabinet I found them in, and,”

“Oh I heard that part. Still don’t get how the pair of you can luck into that. These are incredible, I mean she certainly deserves this ring. Just leaving the question,”

“Don’t ask me when, Joe loves the ring and knows I have it, I just have no bloody clue when I could possibly hand it over. And I’ve had it for weeks with her out in Canada and the only time I could actually get it on her finger was when she was asleep. How the hell am I supposed to find some mysterious ‘perfect’ way to ask her when she’s conscious to marry me?! You know me!”

Chris nodded and said, “You got a point,” turning his head, “I idea list, that’s what we can do!” Crossing the room to fetch a notepad and pen.

.

Five episodes on Ultimate Force to the infidelity casual Cold Feet role the slump of one kiss after another not feeling right or orders to strip and redress again and again for those not you only deepened for Richard while growing ready for his next role. A tv mini series called Between the Sheets, another unfaithful role and one with the biggest drama and to his impression depth to the character also doubled for his most sexual. From a faked blow job to his several love scenes with the lead female to whom his character was married worry seemed to bubble up concerning what impressions would be once it aired. All the way from his parents to you and friends who might think it was the wrong choice of roles. Calls to you however seemed to bolster his hopes you might like it and not be jealous or upset of his behavior with another.

“Today was odd,” he sighed through the line on his phone call to you.

“Oh I think whatever it was it will be amazing.” You teased back mid swipe of your sponge over the dish you were cleaning with phone pressed to your shoulder.

“My co-star raked her nails across my butt cheeks, at least the sex scenes and my arrest are over with, now I just have my breakdown scene where I reveal my infidelity.”

“I’m beginning to think there’s a pattern growing in your roles, dying and dirty deeds.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Well I do play a good villain.”

“Oh psh, you wouldn’t hurt a paper swan.” Making his smile creep wider imagining your smile and what you might be wearing, “I am glad you will have tons of work coming out so we can have some more parties for you. I do love celebrating you Richy Bear.”

“I love you,” he hummed smile locked wider at the nickname knowing the smirk you always had when you said it. “Can’t wait for you to be back here. How’s the show?”

“Uh, tad bit insensitive and a touch racist but it’s certainly unique for a resume. Spring scenes should be better, even have that kid from Disney, Spenser something, has a spot on the show. I get to pin him to a wall.”

“Sounds like fun, I know it will be fantastic with you in it.”

“Either way I just can’t wait for it to be out already. It’s the waiting that will end me, ’05 is when it’s coming out, same as Kong but a few months earlier, over a year, Lee waited nearly three for his film.”

“We’ll just have to keep you distracted then won’t we?”

“Oh really now? And just how will you do that?” You asked drying your hands at the end of the dishes heading to your couch to lounge for the rest of the call feeling his smirk through the line.

 *

Another month hadn’t seemed to help things on that front with questions still lingering on how you could morph from one lead role to the next. Re-using your playful purple low dipping dress alone on Valentines Day you sat in the town car sent for you with hands interlocked on your lap waiting for this film to just be over. Eyes shut you forced yourself to relax in this communication lull of a supposed to be romantic holiday where you still had no bling to show off.

Brad and JLo fresh off their engagement alongside Jennifer Garner with a hopeful relationship on the horizon only made things worse on your painfully throbbing heart. Colin Farrell however seemed to save the day for you latching onto your bare side for the whole of the carpet at your reaching his location and even in the flash of the $1 Million triple pink diamond engagement ring on JLo’s finger made you grateful for the instant carpet buddy eager to catch up with you and hear about what you were up to in Canada after having seen your film twice now. Alone however your seat was bumped back to the row of extras who shared your curiosity on how little you would be fleeting across the screen of this film. Loud and boisterous at the club they had chosen for the after party the crowd helped in your slip out of the venue to hail a cab home to yet another empty apartment. Stretched out across your bed to wait for the time to leave and catch your flight to England where a late romantic morning bagel might help to make up for how you feel right now.

.

Right off your feet into a tight hug you were lifted. Still in your dress with Richard’s sweater and your coat over the dress hinting that you had to leave the party to make your flight in a rush down to the tall heels you had to take off for most of the day long flight. Already outside the cameras snapped away ready to spread that assumption when, post loving kiss, Richard took hold of your suitcase and duffel bag murmuring sweetly, “You bought a second bag.”

“Yes, seems I have picked up more clothes recently, and the shoes I got with the Jens didn’t help either.”

“I am just glad you have more things, I wasn’t fond of all your things fitting in one bag alone.” Leaning in he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you home, got a nice breakfast planned for you and day of relaxing before our table read tomorrow.”

Waiting on the set table a stuffed rhino sat beside a candle holder, around its head in a crown of sorts rested a silver bracelet with five round emeralds. “Happy late Valentines, they were out of roses,” he hummed lifting the bracelet that around the wrist he raised to lovingly secure it. Awkwardly a grin split across your face in the press of his lips to your palm and knuckles afterwards.

“It’s really beautiful, perfect gift, thank you, and I love the rhino too.” Spreading his own smile as you added, “My dad tell you I love emeralds?”

“Might have mentioned it,” he hummed back, “Sadly it was that one or some large joined bangle type design a bit too flashy I think for subway wearing for you to feel safe.”

“You would be right in that, bangles drive me a bit crazy too, have to wear some for the show. Thank you, really,” you said crashing into his chest for a tight hug he melted into holding you close to your murmur of, “Don’t know how you managed to keep this a secret so long.”

To himself he chuckled easing his arms more across your back, “Nearly killed me. I hate secrets from you.” His smile easing out more at your shift closer to his chest unaware of the much bigger jeweled secret hidden in his house Chris had aided in finding the least conspicuous place to put the rings. Time apart was shared in the joint task of fixing up a breakfast cuddled through and after. Lunch again was alone however supper happened to be part of a potluck ambush from the Armitage brood here to welcome you back again and plan out more time together.

.

Back in sweaters, boots and jeans you and Richard were off for the day. Hand in hand through the building you were directed to you arrived at the desk outside the appointed room where a smiling aid showed you both inside the lounge filled with couches and armchairs facing inwards towards the rug coated area in the center clearly for acting out the scenes if need be with named binders on each cushion. Tucked in one of the loveseats you and Richard were assigned your spots nearest to the director and with her darting off to fetch you some tea the binders were lifted to allow you to settle in. With a bashful grin between you at being the only ones here so far. “I think we might be a bit too early.”

“No such thing,” he hummed smiling at you then to the door as it opened again.

Through it Anna Martin, playing Bessy Higgins came through the door with a relieved sigh, “Not too late then, got stuck in that roundabout, vans wouldn’t let me over, Anna,” she said crossing the room with hand extended shaking Richard’s hand first in his quicker pop up then yours.

“Richard,”

“Jaqi, hi.” Releasing her hand to say, “Bessie, right?”

“Yes, I could have sworn you were British, but I must have seen you with several accents in your work.”

Richard chuckled, “Halfway at least by our math.”

“I do spend a good bit of the year here had tons of time to pick up the accents.”

Kay Lyon was next beside Brendan Coyle, playing Mary and Nicholas Higgins with the latter muttering about the same roundabout then joined in on the introductions. Brian Protheroe was next for Mr Bell followed by the two Thorntons finishing up Richard’s on screen family, Sinéad Cusack and Joy Joyner. Tim Pigott-Smith, Pauline Quirke, Lesley Manville, Rupert Evans filled in your family, Richard, Dixon, Maria and Frederick for the Hale household. For the Lennox brood Travis Oliver, John Light and Emma Ferguson were to be the captain, Henry and Edith. Jane Booker for Mrs Shaw led in the Boucher brood played by William Houston, Caroline Pegg and Spencer Wild. Seats filled one by one and with tea handed out the Director smiled taking their seat beginning their welcoming speech to open the first scene when the work was to get going.

One week this room was your daily stop with the floors below used to help each of you with your first fittings for your outfits through the show. Hair and makeup tests were next and surprised by the stretch of your curls a lovely few choices to pick from the team loved with ample spots for your unruliest of curls to slip out and dangle around your head gracefully helping with the scenes you would be playing exhaustion. Playful twists at Richard’s side fluffed and twirled your skirts luring the blushing grin from the top hat wearing brooder formerly scowling in focus while apart from you. Clearly the brooding surly side to John he had down, for everyone else it was how Richard looked at you adoringly between speaking to others that melted doubts on how convincing the blossoming love would show on screen.

.

Broken hearts came first, amid the drama of the brewing strike ready to bubble over courting another woman and pained glares came from Richard. Curt interactions and gruff inquiries and responses out of John to Margaret while he meant to uncover why she was not choosing to share her troubles with him. This was post betrayal when he deemed her to have been free with showing affections to some mystery man you’d yet to film yet, starting right in the pain of it all to bubble out to both the beginning and end while the country turned greener again when Spring came back around. Some might have imagined it to be rough to split from that harsh contrast, those who did not notice each teasing smile or face from you tearing a chuckle filled smile from Richard between the blush inducing pecks you stole on toe top pecks on his nose with each hushed argument.

The darkest of scowls came on the day the strike would break and if you hadn’t stayed close to show how much of a teddy bear Richard was the other men, especially Boucher who ‘threw’ the stone to knock Margaret unconscious in front of the mob in her try to save John from the harm’s way she pushed him into. Five takes of the brewing stress came with ease after the first try to see Richard not jump the rail and rush to throttle the actor. A rubber stone by a staff member above on a camera platform who lined up the toss to hit the spot a hidden makeup artist would sneak out once you’d done the collapse take enough times to play out the sprawled position for the streak of blood along your hairline. A task filled with hushed giggles from you until action was called again for Richard to lift you up and carry you inside again.

From this the next week would be scenes apart to meet up at the wardrobe building on the way to supper. The depression of the winter months and hardships of the funeral scenes bubbled to just one. In the midst of filming the scenes of the Hales arrival to Milton giggles slipped out between jokes traded between you and the female cast members who had been buried and still showed up to work still. Hints of green on the first flowering bushes outside had Richard smiling knowing that the romantic ending was coming up along with that devastating refusal or marriage for John he hoped to be the only time he would get a refusal to a proposal from you. He never had the thought pop into his head before, there wasn’t a reason for you to refuse to marry him. True it’d just been a slightly teasing glimmer in the distance with close friends and relatives but forever was his goal and to his own mind he had made that apparent. Now the question had bubbled up again of how.

Brendan smirking in your latest break between sets inched over in the gentle blow you gave to the steaming tea helping to warm you up on the nippy end to winter. “You are actually adorable you know.” Having caught Richard’s stolen kiss on his way to head to his office for more scenes post street interaction with you.

Smiling up at him you said mid giggle, “Thank you, you are quite adorable yourself.”

Deeply he chuckled to himself and said, “I have to admit I was a bit intrigued to see how things would go between the pair of you with all that press around you and that brunette out in Canada.”

“Oh,” you said lowering your mug to let it cool accepting help from one of the aids taking your shawl to shake the fake cotton off the back of it, “That’s Lee, my best friend from Drama School, out in Canada we’re on a show together picking back up in the end of Spring.”

Anna who’d snuck up said, “That’s good to hear, you do make a perfect couple. Some guys I know would be up in arms over a flub like that.”

That had you giggle after another blow on your tea, “Well he knows Lee, we’re all good friends so I think that’s part of it. Plus he is a tad amused that he’s been called my Boy Toy,” making the pair chuckle as you giggled again, “We’ve gotten used to long distance and I suppose it really comes down to trust issues for guys, hell even one of the women on set, another of my former classmates who I’m rumored with. All just fluff, even they get giggles out of it.”

Brendan asked, “Boy Toy? They really looked at him and picked that?”

“Exactly his amusement. At least he didn’t take it as a demotion from Partner, just let them make up their own stories.”

On his own the title had been used by Brendan between takes with his scenes with Richard luring a blushing laugh from the lanky man meant to be towering over him helping to ease the tension from their scene, one of many of their battles of wills. By far helping to improve a friendship of sorts with one of his scene partners he spent the longest with aside from his fake family.

.

It was a Monday, like any other, but the big day had come, the day John’s heart and trust would shatter in Margaret and be seen with another man at night un-chaperoned in a loving embrace. The start of a trio of night shifts on the set had come and let Richard sneak in his plan. “Be right at the car, forgot my notepad.”

“Ok,” you said stepping out of the front door with his keys in hand, “I’ll start the car,” wiping your eyes still half asleep nothing seemed to be off in Richard’s double back to grab something, just what he needed. Post peek out the curtain on the window by the door he turned shifting the coat tucked in his arm hurrying to the spare bed. Off the top shelf high above where you could reach he pulled the two now wrapped ring boxes with notes on them. The one with the note for you he left in the center of the table with the second he settled in the cupboard above the fridge you wouldn’t bump into. Off the counter he grabbed the notepad tucking that under his arm to go and join your no doubt napping self already waiting for him in the car.

.

Betrayal was swiftly followed by refusal, in the brighter gray of the morning once the proposal turned argument with him storming right out of the set was the beginning and end of your shift. Ready to be out of your corset tears were close coming to blurring your vision for how emotional these scenes were and what you had to draw from to get to the reactions required. Out from the men’s wardrobe room eyes had shifted over Richard at his own anxious shuffling his way through getting dressed again and out to the hall to meet up to head home.

Awkward silence seemed to fall over the car between stops to pick up lunch from a fancier eatery than you frequented paired with a bottle of wine from there to go with the dinner. All the scents of the meal had you glancing over at Richard who glanced back with a flash of a wide smile then looked away again. “I think it went well today.” You squeaked out and he looked back with another smile.

“Everyone loved it. Yes, I think we really did the argument and the suspicion behind Frederick fleeing justice. Now we just have to do the hiding period where John can’t come inside only heightening things before the trips away to film the whole convention portion.”

“Ya, then we just have to kill off Mr Hale and do the whole Southern scenes before the big reunion scene at the station. Then I think it’s just more meddling from Mr Bell, right?”

“Yes, and your face off with John’s mother at the empty mill after my goodbye from Nicholas.” Again he looked you over asking, “You are enjoying this film?”

“Oh ya, no question about it. I mean I do miss the actual mental play by play from the book, especially John’s,” making him smirk at your hand tapping his arm, “You do impeccable with subtle things it’s just, I love the words it makes him so much more adorably soppy compared to his rough shell.”

“I get that,” he hummed back patting his hand on your knee not ready to take your hand to give away his thundering pulse. “I do love Margaret’s words over her own swooning. Plus I do miss the private moment where he clings to her after being struck in the head.”

A twinge more of the awkward was gone at his hand moving from the shifter to stroke his fingertips across your knee drawing shapes to distract himself ready to no longer have to live without the weight of that ring on his finger. This would be bold, insisting on wearing his ring as well for his own engagement ring and most likely could explode on the news when the press would catch onto the matching rings and assume that you had already run off and eloped. Which could be more likely in the next slew of auditions and the magazine spread you were to film that Peter had set up to your schedule for the cast of King Kong with another for you and Richard around the Beast of Bards film and its progress so far in theaters. But that all came after his having to ask the question.

You did as you always did, taking the bag of food while he grabbed the wine, sturdier hands when it came to glass he followed you inside. With a smirk he failed to hold back right across his face hidden by his turn to lock the door saying practically in a hum, “If you’ll set out the food I’ll pop the wine.”

Behind you he crept smiling wider on your path to the table, inside the kitchen he set the wine bag down leaving his coat beside it to sneak the cupboard open to grab the wrapped box he palmed. His eyes fixed on your back for full view of the pause you took eyeing the box on the center of the table beside the candleholder you didn’t notice he’d put out the night before along with the special table setting. Carefully the bag was set down and to the box you moved lifting the indigo ribbon wrapped box with white paper coated in blue floral outlines and a note. ‘Give me to Richy Bear.’ A heart was drawn beside the words and lifting the box that adorable puzzled smirk he loved spread across your face.

Nice and confused into the kitchen you walked finding him looking you over, smile split free as you held out the box, “This is for you?”

“Thank you, trade you, my Dearest Love.” He said accepting his box for the one in his hand identically wrapped. ‘I pick the wine, you chose the spoons, My Dearest Love.’

Watching him your eyes narrowed with hold of the puzzling box while he eased the ribbon off his to pull the side of the paper off. His smile wide in his glance up to say, “Don’t wait for me,” back to the box in your hands your eyes dropped and with your free hand the end of the ribbon was undone to set aside with the note left on the counter. Out of the side of the folded paper you eyed the box inside keeping the lid side upright unwrapping the rest of the paper set aside too.

Upon opening his wrapping paper Richard blinked eyeing the message that was meant to be on your box alone Chris must have written across both. ‘Marry Me?’ Lifting the lid he flashed your way he hummed out in a means to pretend this was planned, “Of course I’ll marry you!” Instantly your eyes shot up and the distance was closed while you read the lid he was holding. Eyes eased shut for a lingering kiss that in the thunder of your heart almost had your knees give out.

In the pull back his eyes dropped to your box reading the same message that your free hand moved to take the lid off in his silent hint, the smile inducing rock inside found you gently reaching in with your fingers to ease it out. A task taken slower in noticing the top lifting up while he dangled his pouch from around his thumb. Richard smiled taking the box away to let you hold the geode box you eased open revealing a velvet pouch.

You must have skipped a second because in the view of the box Richard appeared in your view now on his knee with hands tenderly folded around your wrist making shapes in your skin asking, “Will you go on this adventure with me?”

“I love adventures,” you wisped out making his smile split wider.

“Well then open the pouch.” He hummed with eyes following your hand in his timid rise hoping he was doing this all perfect for you to look back on for years to come in claiming the geode box when you lifted the pouch.

Wide eyed you gawked at the ring, “You did not buy this!”

Your eyes met his and he shook his head, “Nope, you did.”

“Oh really? And how did I do that?” You asked with an instant playful challenging smirk to his deepening smile.

“I didn’t hunt down the old owner of that cabinet over some pens and a music box.” He drew out his ring showing you that one while sharing, “Hercule thought he lost these rings in that house fire. The geode box was inside that cabinet and that contract I told you about was about these rings. They were scuffed up and I took them to get cleaned and appraised.”

“Rich, how much is this ring?”

“No less than you deserve.” Your lips parted and he smiled saying, “They both have spoon engraved inside.” Again your smile split awkwardly out across your face.

“That’s why you wrote that note on mine, like their story.”

“Exactly,” he wet his lips and reached for the ring on your palm along with your left hand, purring, “You don’t want to wear it?”

“Rich you didn’t have to buy me a ring.”

“Yes I did, I wanted a ring! Be rude not to get you one to match.”

“Will it even fit? It’s huge.”

“It fits, you nearly didn’t give it back when I tried it on your finger.” He said easing it back onto your finger with eyes shining brightly as he did to your gasp.

“Where was I when that happened?”

“Sleeping,” he chuckled leaning in to kiss you again, just melting around you at the loop of your arms around his neck for the celebratory embrace lasting even after the kiss had ended, for a close eyed hug to cling to one another.

“I would have woken up if you put this on me.”

That made him chuckle into your shoulder, “You almost did, rolled over burying your hand into the pillow. You like it?” He murmured inching back to see your face.

“I love it, it’s still huge though.” In front of you he dangled his pouch that you smirked in accepting, “This is your ring?”

He nodded and said, “Which I plan on wearing.”

“Today?” You asked with a smile and he nodded.

“Right here, right now and every day from here out. You bought it for me and I intend on boasting endlessly.” Once out of the pouch this ring widened your eyes as well and he lifted his hand saying, “They’re absurdly big compared to what I could have afforded until Bard is out of theaters. But you have to admit, fifteen bucks for these second hand suits us.” Up his finger the ring slid and came to rest and he said, “If you must know, both are 24 karat white gold. My center emerald is seven carats and the onyx and diamonds are a half a carat each. While your emerald is eight carats and the diamonds and smaller emeralds are one carat each. That’s all I’m telling you about them, other than the jewelers I went to said when you want we could go there to design your wedding band, on which I was clueless.” He looked you over in your moment of pause, “What are you thinking for bands?”

“Well, my cousin we went to her wedding,” which he nodded at remembering the ceremony at the courthouse and party on the family land while you were filming Elektra before her husband shipped out so he could leave her charge of his property that wouldn’t go to his family. “She picked one of those eternity bands with hearts, I did like that design.”

His grin eased out again, “That sounds beautiful.”

“Though hers was nearly three grand,”

“Don’t you worry about the price. I have money saved up, money is not an issue.” His hands eased on your hips to draw you closer to his chest, “I know getting through school was so difficult, I’ve been scraping by too for a decade before I had even met you finding what I loved. I will always do my best to ensure that we have a solid financial footing, and I do know you are getting paid crazy amounts of money for your roles. Even if I never get another check like off of Bards, I will be here, and I will never use that as any sort of,” he sighed and said after wetting his lips. “I am so proud of you, and where some men may feel they have to be the bread winner even if you out earn me I will never let that get between us. And I will do all I can to make you not feel like you can’t depend on me to help fund our lives.”

“I never thought that. I would never.”

“I know, but it may come up for others, I couldn’t afford this ring on my own if not for having found it, but I do hope one day comfortably I might be able to afford one half as much as this without worry on bills around it once this Bard money is gone. So you pick the band you want and we’ll get it for you. If it helps your dad loves the rings.”

“How did you show him?”

“Sent him a picture when I got them cleaned. And I bet you he’s shown them around.”

“No wonder his voice has been squeaking, you made him wait months! And where the hell did you get that geode box?”

He chuckled again, “They were both in the geode box, they were scuffed up from it when I found it, so that’s why I left yours in the pouch. I’m gonna open the wine.”

“Right,” you said breaking your smile up at him, “Food,” you said turning back to setting the table for the start of the rest of the romantic evening until it was bedtime. Calls to family put a lot of people out of their joint misery and kicking the plans into a slow grind for what and when you might want a ceremony to be. And in cleaning up came the start of an adorable habit where you would tap his side or arm to say with a smile, “We’re getting married,” or “Fiancé,” always splitting a massive smile across his face in his move to scoop you up for a loving kiss and tons of cuddles.

That evening for another shoot however you stood looking at your ring through cooking before heading out, “We wear them to work, right? I mean we have those lockers, they seem pretty sturdy with cameras.”

“Other actors wear jewelry to work, we will be safe wearing them.”

The fact proven to be true from the sight of the new rings security took mental notes to mark you among the cast working with jewelry to have that locker room under surveillance ensuring that it remained off limits to those not assigned there. Cameras stationed outside the studio however with view of the parking garage on the way in and out honed in on the new sparkle on your finger mirrored by his in a wave to them upped the shadows on the path out the morning after.

Pt 38

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim​, @deepestfirefun​, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf​

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455

#Pouting #Premier #Time Apart #Sharing of Plans #North and South Filming #Time in England #Living Together Again #The Proposal #Richard Armitage x Reader OC

[plutodexay]

For the first time in years (10) movie night

Ao3 link will be added later cause this app hates me and I’m too tired to fight with it

Having flowers shoved into my face as soon as I opened the door wasn’t what I expected, but it's exactly what happened.

As soon as the door opened all I saw was a flash of red and green, granted, the color combination is not my favorite, I wasn’t scared. As quickly as they showed up, they disappeared.

And there he was, at first I just saw his hair.

“You got a haircut” What used to be long and flowing hair was now cut short, almost resembling what he wore the last year at Hogwarts. Only it was still different, then it was flat and styled so not a single strand was out of place. Now it looked sorta, well, messy. It was obvious he had run his hand through it countless times, yet it still looked intact. Standing up looking like it had, what was it? Volume! It had volume, so it doesn’t look flat against his head now.

“Um-I well,” His hand reached up to comb through it for probably the millionth time tonight. “Yes, I did.” Looking away from his hair I noticed he wasn’t looking at me, rather he was looking at the ground, cheeks flushed.

His hands had a tight hold on the flowers previously shoved into my face, fingers rhythmically tapping against the tightly packed stems. Looking at them closer I could see they were roses, some in the bold red you normally see on the muggle romance holiday, while others held the green that Draco himself dawned every day back at school. They were seemingly placed together carefully, almost showing a pattern within the petals.

Realizing I was lost in thought I look back up at him, his head still looking at the concrete. Nervousness obvious on his face as his hand not gripping the flowers reaches up to his hair once again.

“Oh!” I say quickly as I remembered I didn’t respond. “It looks nice!” I could feel my face heating up as he glances up at me, the nervous smile changing to something more genuine, those little wrinkles around the eyes showing through. His cheeks gaining more color as his fingers grip on the stems even harder than before.

“Thank you” Draco mumbled before quickly pushing the flowers out towards me, his arms straight out and slightly shaking. Almost pushing the bouquet straight into my nose. “I got these for you.” His voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, using a very fake cough to cover it up as he held the flowers there, waiting for me to take them.

Very slowly I reached out to grab them, our hands just slightly brushing beside one another before he quickly pulled his hands away. Running them through his hair once again before putting them by his sides. The rings on his right shining bright as my porch light reflect off of them just right.

“Would you like to come in?” I finally spit out as I remember how to talk, moving to the side as to leave the entry open. He nods before walking past me rather quickly, the flowers blowing slightly in the wind his movement caused.

Following behind him I close the door with my free hand. Without looking I almost run into him, seeing as he is just awkwardly standing just in front of the doorway. His hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, shoes close together as he just looks at me.

I back away from him to go head over to the kitchen in an attempt to get something to put the flowers into. His eyes following me as he stands there.

“You can sit down wherever you want.” I yell to him as I start opening cupboards looking for a vase or something. “I’m just trying to find something for these and I’ll be right there.” As no response came I looked back towards the living room to find him sitting down, finally. His choice being on the far end of the couch.

After a few moments, I realize I don’t own anything to put these in. So I head over to the parchment I have waiting by the window to write a letter to Neville, asking if I can borrow one of his pots whenever he gets it.

“Who are you writing to?” Draco finally speaks up, his voice soft and faint.

“Oh, I-um, Neville” I stutter out, speaking and writing at the same time not a talent of mine.

“Why?”

“I need something to put the flowers in seeing as I don’t own one of those glass things.” I hear him chuckle as I say that, not much, but it is something. “Thank you for them, by the way.” Looking back at him I see the light pink from earlier returning to his face, along with those slight wrinkles around his eyes.

“Figured it was only right to bring something since it is your home after all Potter.” Now was my turn to laugh, enunciating ‘Potter’ to replicate how he used to say it back at school. His laugh echoing mine for a sheer moment. “Besides, the shop was on the way. Was far too nice to pass up.”

“So let me guess, marble floors and chandeliers?” The sarcasm evident in my voice, finishing up the letter as I whistle to Hedwig to come down from her perch.

“Quite the opposite actually.” He chuckled out. “Small and rustic, exposed brick in random places. Definitely not up to Malfoy standards.” I watch as he unfolds his legs, putting both feet on the ground as he slightly lays back onto the couch. Almost like he was becoming comfortable. “So of course I had to stop in.”

“Well obviously.” Hedwig landing by me, nipping me in the finger. Draco suppresses a laugh as I retract my hand and shake it as if it would get the bite off.

“You would have liked it, or rather the person running it says she just opened last week.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Reminded me of Lovegood, only she made more sense, most of the time.” Tying the paper to Hedwig I nod at him to continue. “She also had a small muggle flag in the shop, one of those Pride things I believe they’re called? It read very open-mindedly, you’d be comfortable there I feel.”

“Seems like you were too,” I respond as Hedwig flies off.

“Well, there weren’t too many people there. Just me, a lone girl, and this couple off to the corner, who seemed to be playfully arguing about whether or not the shorter really needed this big bouquet of yellow daisies.” Stretching his arms rather quickly he continues. “The lone girl had been constantly picking up different sets of flowers. Going between these colorful lilies and sunflowers the size of her head. Believe she left with both if I’m not mistaken." He stops talking abruptly as I head back to the kitchen, not without running into a chair in the process.

“Ignore me, continue” His laugh rings out as I roughly push the chair out of my way without remembering he was watching.

“Easy.” The words were barely audible through his laugh. I shoot him a glare and he sarcastically throws his hands in the air. “Basically the smaller one didn’t think she needed flowers, while the taller one disagreed, obviously wanting to buy her the flowers. Went on practically the entire time I was there, swear the shorter of the two was planning on hexing her partner by the end of it. The shopkeep told me they were friends of hers, so the flowers were being bought regardless.”

He tails off as he sees me walking towards the couch, sitting on the opposite end as him. Quickly fixing his posture he looks at me, his hand impulsively going to fix his hair again. Silence filled the room as we just sat looking at one another.

“So I figured we could watch a movie?” Shock went over his face for a moment before he nodded, quickly looking at the muggle television as my eyes locked onto his.

“I told you to plan this so that would be fine.” Draco spits out, rather fast. Hands clenched at his sides once again. The loose shirt he was wearing showed his breathing had quickened.

“Did you want to do something else?” He shook his head no as he looked back at me. As he did his chest began to rise slower, hands unclenching, muttering something as he crossed his legs. “Sorry I didn’t hear that.”

"I don’t know what a ‘movie’ is, so I don’t know what to expect” Oh, I guessed I had figured he had gone into the muggle world when he left. Pink turned red as he looked back to the television. Remembering how I explained it to Neville when he’d first been asked to go to one by that girl. Now that I think of it, he had been quite scared too, maybe it wasn’t because it was his first date since the yule ball.

“Well they're basically just moving pictures but with noise and anywhere from an hour to 3 hours long, not much.” He seemed to let out a breath of relief at that, a smile creeping onto his face. Almost as if he was nodding to himself, he let himself relax into the couch before looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

Swiftly I went over to start the movie, having already put it in earlier to make sure it worked. Pressing play I heard the ads start playing on the speakings, startling Draco as he jumped, making sure I kept my mouth shut.

Walking back to the kitchen I grabbed the snacks I had gotten, along with the tea kettle and every type of tea I could find at the muggle shop. Laying it all down on the coffee table, Draco looked up at me bewildered before looking back at all of it. Running back over to the bar, I grabbed a mug for him to use and placed it in front of him, nodding at the kettle.

He seemed to pick up what I was saying as he started looking through the assortment of teas. After a few moments picking one up and putting it into the kettle. Finally calm, I decide to start watching the television ads just about to end.

As Draco pours himself a cup of the tea I spell the lights to dim so there's no glare on the screen, he only jumps for a moment this time. Most of his focus on the movie, wonder spread across his face as he tries to focus on every little detail that passes by.

--------

“Can we watch another?” Draco said, the first thing he's spoke the entire film. His eyes wide and a small smile stretched across his face. Both hands wrapped around the mug I had given him the hour before. Rubbing my eyes I notice that the sun had completely gone down outside, the stars shining clear and bright.

Not unlike how Draco's eyes had looked staring into mine. Filled with something I’d never quite seen before. Yet, something I never wanted to stop seeing.

“If you’re okay with staying late then sure” I speak up, still staring into his eyes. They fill with more wonder as he starts to get excited before quickie catching himself and just smiling. His eyes though, they show the sheer happiness he feels at that news. Nodding to me he resumes his spot, only this time I notice, is a bit closer to me than last.

As not to ruin this closeness, I spell the movie out and replace it with a random one Neville had lent me when I flooed him in a panic the night before. He’d laughed at me while handing me a box of the things and saying “Any of them will be fine, nothing too over the top”

Pressing play on the remote I was luckily able to skip through the ads on this one. This particular movie played quite loud so I turned the volume down as I sunk into the couch. Spelling the lights even darker as to match the time, I decided to close my eyes, not expecting to be as tired as I was.

Dracos laughter at some joke on the screen was the last thing I heard before I let sleep overcome me.

-------------

“Mate for the last time you're going to be late” Came shouted from outside the front door, followed by constant pounding. Reaching my hand up to rub my eyes, I felt them brush against something soft. Looking down I instantly noticed

Draco Malfoy was asleep. On my chest. In my living room.

“Honestly Harry we need to get going if we plan on making it to the game at all.” Rang Hermione's voice as what I’m now guessing was Ron's first upon my door.

I felt Draco stir as they kept banging on the door, quickly I reached for my wand and cast a silencing charm on the door. Their voices fell quiet as I saw the magic work, Draco's head lying still again upon my shoulder, his hand reaching to my other one as his breathing slowed.

Deciding instantly that while I don’t know how this happened, I couldn’t stop it. I cast a Patronus telling Ron and ‘Mione I was feeling ill and couldn't make it.

Throwing my wand onto the ground I lay my head back down, slowly wrapping my hands around Draco. As I do so, he burrows his head further into my chest.

This is going to be one hell of a conversation when he wakes up.

#original writing #for the first time in years #drarry writing #drarry art #drarry fandom #drarry fanfic #harry and draco #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction

[alwaysanotherrainbow]

aftermath

warnings: food mentions, remus gorey thoughts, sharp mention

ship: remrom

Remus has forgotten a card for Roman’s gift, and the two of them are left to clean up the aftermath from the Prince’s birthday party.

________________________________________________________________

It came as a shock to absolutely no-one that the common house was full of glitter after Roman’s party.

A dying Bluetooth speaker replayed Don’t Stop Believing, its music tinny and hollow as the vocals lapsed in and out and the phone’s virtual assistant sang Battery low over and over. Remus stuck some half-melted vanilla bean ice cream in the fridge before putting red velvet cake into the freezer; it took him a few seconds to rectify his mistake. 

Roman hummed as he swept up pieces of foil confetti. 

“I didn’t forget your gift, you know,” Remus said absentmindedly as he picked up a pompom and put it in a bag. “I wanted it to be ready for you, I didn’t wanna give you something bad or that you wouldn’t like.”

“If it’s from you, I’d like it.”

“If I gave you smallpox, you wouldn’t like it.”

“Well, that’s smallpox. No-one likes it. Besides, I don’t think that was what you were planning on giving me.”

“Shit, you’ve got me there.” Remus glanced around before jumping up and tugging down the tinsel-like Happy Birthday, Roman! banner. “There. Common room, restored.”

Roman dumped the confetti in the wastebin. “You’re right, dandelion. Back to its former glory.”

“If we can get the glitter off the ceiling.”

“Yeah..”

“How on earth did we get it there, anyways?”

“Probably with the saline water-balloon that we infused with glitter?”

Roman laughed, going to the fridge and grabbing himself a juicebox. “Want one?”

“Please.”

Remus liked stabbing the straw through the cardboard, not through the spot where the straw was meant to go. Roman drank his as it was meant to go, summoning some paper, crayons, and two pens, one green and one red.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’ve got an idea and I want to write it out,” said Roman. 

“You know... I forgot to write a card for my gift.”

“Dear, you don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“...Hey, do you want to do what we used to, where we work on things together and compare?”

Remus nodded, grabbing a pen and getting to work.

It was a strange environment to work in, with the paper they were using still flecked with crimson glitter from the table. Roman shook his head at the scarlet crayon and reached for a brick-red at the same moment that Remus was carefully shading in his drawing with the ballpoint pen’s residue ink. From time to time, they took sips of their drinks.

“I’m done,” said Roman a few minutes after the Bluetooth speaker had died, flipping his paper so that it was impossible to see.

“I am, too.” Remus covered up the paper by leaning his upper body on the tabletop. “Don’t look at me like that, I promise it won’t smudge.”

“On the count of three, we reveal them.”

“Okay! One, knife--”

“...I’m sorry, knife?”

“To be completely fair to me, you did say on three, not that I couldn’t say knife.”

Roman smiled. “You know what, that’s fair.”

“All right.” They counted together. “One, knife, two, three!”

They revealed their drawings.

Roman stared at Remus’ ink-portrait. It was of surprisingly good quality, with Remus smiling as he pointed to a surprisingly non-gorey hole in his chest (it was shaped like a cartoon heart, just allowing the other side to show through) and a “Wanted” poster of Roman. It read, Handsome Prince wanted! He stole my heart. Reward: lots of kisses and cuddles. Happy birthday xx -- your dandelion >:)

“Is that for me?” whispered Roman. “You’ve beaten me at my own game. I.. I wanna keep it forever and ever.”

“You’re telling me?” Remus asked as he pointed to Roman’s work.

Roman’s drawing, on the other hand, was a pink rose dripping tar, drops of dew on it. It read in beautiful calligraphy, You’ve taken my breath away, dandelion. Thank you for an absolutely amazing year. -- your prince, forever yours.

“That’s a freaking masterpiece, Roman, I... Fuck, I’d embroider that onto my soul in a heartbeat. You can keep mine, it’s for you and no-one else.”

“I’ll find a nice frame for it. Something that nice ought to be displayed, if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m keeping this in my special-gifts-from-Roman chest and never ever letting anyone else hold it! Ooh, that reminds me.” He reached into his pocket. “I got you a really nice gift, I think you’ll like it-- here!”

He handed Roman a small brass contraption of gears and emblems. It was the size of a golfball, with all sorts of patterned perforations.

“Er, I love it, but what is it?”

“I’m giving you the stars.” Remus tapped it with his fingertip; the contraption began to glow. “Here, let’s go to the common living room.”

They stepped into the room adjacent to the kitchen. No-one else was there; however, it wasn’t free from the glitter that had defined Roman’s party. They’d need to clean it up later.

“Okay, we’re ready! Turn off the light!”

Roman flicked the switch.

The room sank into darkness, but all around them, glimmers of light began to shine. It was like a living night sky, constellations moving of their own accord and the glitter scattered from the party refracting back little pinpoints of starshine.

“And just tap it again to turn it off,” explained Remus. “So, er, what do you--”

“It’s perfect,” whispered Roman, taking a step towards the wall which now displayed Orion the Hunter, which gently moved along. “It’s so wonderful... You literally gave me the stars?”

“Psh, it was nothing! I am glad you like it, though.”

“Remus, I don’t know how I’m going to outdo you for your birthday. Nothing could top this.”

“Heck, no need to worry about outdoing me! You don’t even have to get me anything.”

“But I want to.”

“Sweetie, I’ll love anything you give me, and I do mean absolutely anything.”

Roman smiled. “You know what I wished for this year, and what I’m wishing for on these stars?”

Remus leaned in for a kiss; when Roman leaned forward, too, he pressed his lips to his. 

“Don’t tell me,” whispered Remus when they pulled apart, “or it won’t come true.”

“It just did come true, though, when you pressed your lips against mine.”

“You hopeless romantic, you.”

“It is in my name. Er, or am I in its name...? Well, it doesn’t matter. Thanks, dear dandelion.”

Remus smiled, wrapping his arm around Roman’s waist as they settled onto the sofa. “Happy birthday, Princey.”

#remrom #remrom fic #my fics #my writing #happy late birthday to the Prince

[harlot-of-oblivion]

The Heart of the Camellia(Part 7)

The big days is getting closer and you are making good time with the flowers, all thanks to a very helpful devil known as Vergil Sparda. You decide to bring him a thank you gift, which results in a invitation to dinner with the rest of the crew.

And here it is! Sorry for the delay...this holiday season is kicking my butt.😤 I'll do my best to finish this part before the year is out, but it may not happen since I’m planning another fic to be a nice ‘n’ spicy holiday treat😏

Anyway! Without further ado, the first half of Part 7! And here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌸💖🌸

Chapter 1: Family of Flowers

For the past few weeks, you have been working nonstop, arranging all the final details and flowers for the Sparda wedding. You did not have the time to take a day off until now, and you are not enjoying it in the garden for once. Instead, you are bustling around your kitchen, preheating the oven before sprinkling flour all over the counter and turning out a ball of red velvet dough onto its surface. 

You always thought that if you were not a gardener and florist extraordinaire, you would probably be a pastry chef. There is just something about baking sweet treats that brings you the same exact joy as tending to the flowers in your garden. And sometimes, you can have the best of both professions: decorative treats depicting beautiful blooms or even having actual flowers in the treat itself! That is exactly what you plan to do to the dough you are currently rolling out, spreading a layer of cinnamon and brown sugar over it before rolling it up jelly-roll style.

It’s not blueberry or apple, but I hope he likes it all the same, you thought nervously as you grab a knife and begin slicing the log of dough. 

Vergil has visited your garden every single day since that demon attack near your home. You always welcome him with open arms and a warm smile despite being really busy, and he always adamantly offers his assistance with whatever you are working on that day. Those times you taught him a thing or two become your saving grace, lessening the burden and stress of getting this done on such short notice. It does make you feel a bit guilty though for needing help, and you have tried to let him know that he should not feel obligated to aid you. But he just gives you what you refer to as his “motivational smolder” and tells you that his assistance only seems fair since he is the one that suggested your shop.

The power of Sparda now includes the talent for arranging flowers! You giggle softly as you place the red velvet dough slices onto a greased pan, making sure they are not too close to each other before covering them with a kitchen towel. They need a little time to rise before baking, so you wash your hands and remove your apron before heading out into the garden. Might as well make a flower crown while I wait! You meander idly among the flowers, scanning the multitude of colorful blooms as you figure out which lucky flowers will be in your crown.

You take a quick look at the cluster of wisteria creeping through the quaint archway of your outdoor workshop. Its hanging blooms sway softly in the light wind of the afternoon as you think about its meaning: the welcoming flower of enduring love. The small blossoms would do well as the base of the flower crown. You reach for the traditional purple blooms, but your hand pauses when you spot a cluster of pink wisteria. A soft smile curls on your lips as you pick a couple of those vines instead since its meaning perfectly matches your own most recent feelings of blossoming love.

It only takes a few more steps through the garden until you find the other lucky flowers to grace your crown. A couple of butterflies are fluttering around your asters, the talisman of love and patience. While the butterflies enjoy their sweet nectar, you ponder which color would look best with pink wisteria. Let’s see: white, red, pink, purple, blue…aha! A group of lavender asters catch your eye and you enthusiastically pick a big bunch of the starry blooms.      

You make your way back to the house and head for your office, grabbing the necessary supplies needed before sitting down at your desk. Your mind begins to wander as you measure a couple of pieces of florist wire around your head, replaying all the moments Vergil made you laugh and blush while helping you. You remember the time he had to take off his signature coat, and he caught you staring at his impressive arms. That cocky smirk of his never fails to make your heart tremble. There was also the time he got his hair wet, his grumpy face reminding you a cat getting caught in a rainstorm. His silver blue eyes flashed in irritation and he scowled when you could not hold your laughter any longer.

Your trip down memory lane ends when you wrap the final piece of floral tape around an aster. There! You hold it out for inspection, making sure that all the blooms are in tip top shape before going to the mirror down the hall. Your hair is already styled into a loose fishtail braid, so all you need is a couple of bobby pins to keep it in place. Luckily, you always carry some in your dress pocket, and it only takes a few careful moments of pining before the flower crown adorns your head. You do a little spin in the mirror, making sure the pink floral pattern of your dress matches the crown as it softly flares out. 

You have never looked more ravishing than you do at this moment.

Vergil’s words come to the forefront of your mind, sending pleasant tingles all through your body. You bounce around like a bumblebee in front of the mirror while giggling and clapping your hands in excitement. As you head back to the kitchen, you recall how happy those words made you that day when they were uttered from your handsome devil. Honestly, you are still slightly shocked that he accepted your dandelions. And when he presented a cabbage rose and put it in your hair...your cheeks still turn pink just thinking about it!

When you to get to the kitchen, you make sure that the red velvet slices have risen enough before sliding them into the preheated oven. While they bake to perfection you get started on another craft project: putting together a decorative pastry box. You reach into the cupboard where some are stored and take out a light pink one with an elegant white swirl pattern. A bright idea suddenly pops into your head as you put the box together and you quickly go back to your office for a felt tip pen. 

You meticulously write in perfect cursive Things that fall on the inside of the lid, making sure it is written in the perfect position so it can be read correctly when opened. Next, you write some things that fall inside the bottom of the box, purposefully putting the most important thing in the middle. Lastly, you measure out a square of translucent parchment paper and place it inside the box. 

The timer goes off on your stove and you promptly put on an ovenmitt before taking out the pan. Your keen eyes check to see if the red velvet cinnamon rolls are done before setting them to the side. While they cool off a bit, you swiftly whip up some white icing and drizzle it over the warm rolls. The sugary glaze melts beautifully and drips off the side of the rolls, making you lick your lips as you begin to crave the baked treat. 

No, no, no…these aren’t for me, you silently chide yourself as you open a nearby drawer to grab a spatula and diligently lift the rolls from the pan, placing them carefully into the prepared pastry box. You are just about to close the box when you think of a last-minute detail for the rolls, instantly rushing out your back door and straight to the rose section of your garden. While you are browsing and smelling the roses, you check on the special ones you are secretly growing for Vergil. Their blue buds have begun to bloom, but they are not quite ready for presenting yet. 

Your lips curve into a fond smile as you remember the day you first met your prickly devil, frantically planting blue roses in the rain as soon as you arrived home. You always pictured the rose among his briars to be blue, extraordinarily wonderful and unique as well as notoriously unattainable. But you meant what you said to Vergil in the book café…that despite impossible odds you will never back down as you gently pry apart the thorns in search of such splendor. 

Ah! This is no time to dilly-dally! You shake your head and redouble your efforts to concentrate on the task at hand. After a couple more minutes of browsing you pick a small bunch of sweetbriar roses and hurry back to the kitchen, grabbing a handful of forget-me-nots on the way for flower shower purposes. You rinse the sweetbriar roses in the sink, dry them with a paper towel, and garnish the rolls with their bright pink blooms. And when you are done decorating, your red velvet cinnamon rolls look more like a delicious bouquet of red roses.  

Perfect!

A rush of excitement bursts through your body as you close the pastry box and seal it shut with a floral sticker. You also grab a small box full of homemade strawberry donuts you made earlier and place it on top of the pastry box. They are for Dante since he occasionally came over to help as well, usually doing the regular deliveries around the city for you. It also ensures that he does not try to steal one of Vergil’s treats. There is one thing you have found out while hanging out with both Sons of Sparda: they bicker and fight constantly like normal siblings. Well, almost normal if you count summoning swords as an everyday occurrence during arguments.

You grab your purse, carry the boxes down the hall, and head out the front door. The weather is clear and sunny as you walk happily down the street towards Vergil’s home and place of employment. You are not sure if he will be there or if he will even be happy to see you after dropping by unannounced, but considering how many times he has startled you with his sudden presence in your garden…it only seems fair that you pop by and surprise him your sweet rosy treats.

Hopefully, he won’t be too annoyed with me once he sees these edible blooms! you thought with a giggle, already seeing the grumpy lines on Vergil’s face easing into softer expression. This is the only thing you could think of to properly thank him for all the help with the flowers…and for always being there to protect you. It did not escape your notice that he is always ever vigilant, his keen eyes watching for any sign of danger while he helped you with the flowers. And he would always urge you to go back inside your house as soon as night fell when he could not stay late, making you promise him that you would not do any late-night harvesting. And you always smile and oblige him because you know that is his own way of showing that he really cares for you too. 

It does not take long for you to walk the short distance from your house to the shop. You pause at the foot of the steps and look up the building, noting the stylish neon sign reading Devil May Cry above the double doors. Well, here goes nothing! You enthusiastically hop up the steps and knock on the door…but nobody answers. Hmm, they must not be home. Your cheerful demeanor deflates a little, but you are not willing to give up yet. You knock again and there is still no answer. You glance down at the handle and decide to turn it, even though you guess it is probably locked. 

But to your surprise, the handle turns without much effort and the door cracks open. You peek your head through the door and take a look inside the shop. The lights are on, but it is very quiet. Your eyes make out a couch, a desk, and a jukebox. “Hello?” you call out, hearing your voice echo throughout the room. “Is anyone here?” You wait a moment for a reply before opening the door wider and passing through the threshold of the shop. 

The door closes behind you and your eyes scan around what looks to be an office of sorts. You are now able to see a small bar in one corner of the room and a staircase to your left beside the desk. Your nose twitches as you detect the faint odor of something moldy underneath the musty smell of dust. This must be Dante’s space, you conclude, there is no way Vergil would be this messy! You walk over to the desk and put the pastry boxes down gently on it, pushing aside a couple of swimsuit magazines to make some room along with your purse. 

An ornate picture frame sitting in one corner of the desk catches your eye. You get curious about whose portrait is in the frame, so you go around the desk to get a better look. A beautiful woman with golden blond hair wrapped in a crimson red shawl stands alone in the picture, green eyes sparkling as a tender smile graces her lips. Oh wow…this must be their mother. You remember Vergil describing her to you once, emphasizing the way she gently nurtured him and his brother with kindness. Your heart breaks when you recall the sadness that is always in his eyes when he talks about her...both of her boys must miss her a lot.

You can sympathize with them a little, mourning the loss of your own mother...even though you are not certain if she is even passed away. Your head tilts as you remember the burgundy roses Dante always asks for when he visits. The last small bouquet must have wilted since they are nowhere to be seen on the desk. Why didn’t I think to bring more? you silently berate yourself, but quickly come up with an alternative. You reach into your dress pocket, take out a few forget-me-nots, and place them in front of the portrait of Eva Sparda. 

There. Gone but not forgotten. 

You call out a couple more times just to make sure that there really is no one home. When only silence answers, you decide to at least put your baked treats in their kitchen. “They must have one…right?” you mutter quietly to yourself as you look around. There is a beat-up fridge next to the jukebox, but you do spot a side room by the bar and go check to see if it leads to a real kitchen. 

And it turns out that it does…but this poor kitchen has seen better days. The trashcan is overflowing as well as surrounded by multiple bags of what is assuredly more trash. There are an assortment of dirty dishes, tools, and knick-knacks on the countertops and the sink is full of even more dishes…even though there is a dishwasher right next to it. Just the very sight of all this filth and clutter in the kitchen makes your skin crawl. You slowly back away like an animal sensing a nearby predator and take a deep breath.

Oh no no no…this will not do.

The sudden urge to clean overwhelms you as your fists clench tight and you stick your chin out in determination. You march back into the gross kitchen and start opening up cabinets, figuring out where they keep their cleaning supplies. Your very thorough search results in a roll of paper towels, cleaning spray, and a half empty box of trash bags. The dishwasher happens to be empty, so you load it up with the dirty dishes from the sink before moving onto the absolute mountain of trash. One by one you take each bag out to the outdoor trashcan next to the stoop of the shop until it is completely full, leaving only one bag left to sit beside the can. 

The next place you hit during your cleaning frenzy is the kitchen countertops. You put all the dirty dishes in the sink, collect the tools and knick-knacks into one pile, and throw away all trash into the now empty trashcan. There are a few stains on the counters, so you spritz the surface with the cleaning spray and wipe them down with paper towels. You swipe the light sweat you worked up off your brow, knocking your flower crown askew as you check your progress. 

The countertops are spotless, the dishwasher is almost done cleaning the first load of dishes, and the floor is completely clear of all trash. It can be cleaner…but this will have to do for now. You nod your head in approval while you cross your arms and smirk in victory. You go back to the desk, pick up the pastry boxes, and take them back to the now neat and tidy kitchen. As you place them on the clean counter you notice a stain you missed during your cleaning tirade. Your eyes squint in annoyance as you reach for the cleaning spray and wipe the pesky stain away before deeming this kitchen officially spick and span.

“Wow! I can’t believe Dante actually hired someone to clean his mess!”

A feminine voice knocks you out of your cleaning stupor and you turn towards the door. A woman with short dark hair is standing in the entrance as she stares at you curiously. You notice that one of her eyes is red while the other bluish green. Her attire confuses you slightly, a mix of casual and military with the silky white blouse and black leather leggings covering her legs.      

“Oh! Uh…I’m not…well, you see…”  

As you struggle a little to explain your spontaneous cleaning session, another woman steps up next to the dark-haired lady. Your eyes widen as you try to hold back a shocked gasp. Her face is the spitting image of Vergil’s mother, but instead of a red shawl she is wearing black leather pants and a revealing corset that shows off her midriff. She also does not exude the warmth of the woman in the portrait as she eyes you suspiciously. You clear your throat and try to explain yourself again when another woman in a white summer dress peeks through the other two, her auburn locks and sunny smile instantly recognizable as she waves at you.   

“Hey!” Kyrie beams as she gently pushes past the two women and pulls you into her welcoming embrace. “It’s great to see you again!” You return the hug with a grateful grin before she stands next to you and loops her hand around your arm. “Lady, Trish…this is Y/N!” she introduces you with a bright smile. “The florist who saved my big day!”

Both women glance at each other as their expressions lighten up with realization. “Oh! You’re the flower friend I keep hearing about!” The dark short haired woman, who you believe is Lady, leans casually against the doorframe. “Nice to meet you!” she exclaims with a playfully wave.

“Hey,” the other woman, who must be Trish, addresses you with a slight nod of her head.

Before you can even respond, Nero peeks over Lady’s shoulder. He scans the clean kitchen and blinks his eyes in disbelief. “Are we even in the right place?”

Nico pokes her head around Trish’s arm and takes a gander as well. “Yeah, where’d all the trash go?”

All their expectant eyes are suddenly upon you and you could not help to feel a little self-conscious as you shrug your shoulders. “I uh…can’t stand a messy kitchen?” you feebly explain with a toothy grin. 

“So, you broke into my shop just to clean my kitchen, huh?” 

A very amused Dante makes his way through the small crowd that has amassed around the doorway. “Aloe there!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin and a wink. You roll your eyes as he strokes his stubbly chin and walks into his now immaculate kitchen. His usual unkempt hair is pulled up into a ponytail and, for some reason, he is not wearing his very expensive red leather coat or his grubby gray shirt.  

“What’s up, succa?” you reply back with your own grin before playfully glaring at him, not even fazed by his shirtless appearance. Dante leans casually against the counter as you launch into a perfectly rational explanation of your actions. “Okay, first of all, I did not break in…the door was unlocked.”

“Really, Dante? How foolish.”

Your body shivers the moment you hear the familiar snarky voice of Vergil. He pushes past the crowd around the kitchen doorway and your eyes widen as you notice that he is not wearing his usual vest and coat. Whoa…the power of Sparda must include all the muscles. Kyrie gently squeeze your arm, which blessedly reminds you that this is not the time to be caught ogling his bare chest. You hope no one becomes aware of your flushed state, but a sharp glint in Vergil’s fierce gaze tells you that he definitely notices the all too familiar blush on your cheeks.   

Dante answers his brother criticism nonchalantly, either totally oblivious of your flustered state or showing mercy by pretending that nothing is amiss. “Huh, guess I forgot to lock the door…my bad!”

You try very hard not to stutter as you continue with your tangent. “Second of all, I can’t stand a messy kitchen. And third of all…I needed the room!”

Trish chuckles and nods. “She’s got ya there, Dante.”

“Yeah!” Lady agrees as she steps into the kitchen and pokes Dante’s accusingly on the arm. “Except it should be you cleaning your own damn mess!”

But Dante is too busy fixated on the last point you made. “Making room?” He quirks an eyebrow as his eyes light up in anticipation. “For what?” 

“I made you both some treats!” You give both the brothers a big grin as they both look down at the counter. Vergil furrows his brow as he eyes the pastry boxes with curious interest while Dante is already gunning for the biggest box. “Hey!” you snap as you lightly slap his hand away. “No! That one is Vergil’s.” You pick up and hold out the smaller box towards him. “This one is yours.”

A round of snickers resounds in the kitchen while Dante shakes his hand, even though you are pretty sure that he is exaggerating his injury. “Aww c’mon, Buttercup!” he pouts. “How come frowny flower over there gets the bigger box? I thought I was your favorite,” he claims in a hurt tone while clutching his chest. You catch Vergil rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his brother.  

“Don’t be ranunculus!” you laugh while waving the boxed treats in front of his face. “It’s what you’ve been hounding me to make every time you visit,” you gleefully entice him with an arched eyebrow.   

“Strawberry donuts?!” Dante gasps in surprise as he finally reaches the coveted prize he has been begging for ever since you first met him in your garden. 

Lady lunges for the pastry box and successfully grabs it before Dante. “I believe these will do nicely as compensation!” she explains hastily while running out of the kitchen. 

“Compensation?! For what?!” Dante yells as he pursues his donut thief.  

“You’re welcome!” you call out dryly before shaking your head at them. Trish shrugs as she follows behind Dante and Lady while Kyrie laughs quietly besides you. Vergil’s eyes flicker between the lone pastry box and you as he walks closer to the counter. Kyrie says that she is going to check and make sure they are not making even more of a mess of the shop before retreating from the kitchen…leaving you alone with a very bare-chested Vergil Sparda. 

You can feel heat emanating from his body as he steps up close to you and it takes all of your willpower to not openly gawk at his perfectly sculpted abdomen or his well-defined pecs. “You do know he’ll just beg you for more food now, right?” Vergil points out as he peers down at you. 

“Oh, it’s okay!” You smile up at him and laugh softly. “I thought it would be a nice thank you gift for him.” You slide his own thank you gift on the counter towards him. “And it did distract him from stealing your treats!”

Vergil hums as his lips lift into a soft smile. “Very clever,” he comments as he raises his hand and carefully adjusts the slightly crooked flower crown on your head. Your mind checks out for a moment as the scent of bergamot overpowers your senses. “How are you doing today, Y/N?” 

“I’m doing pretty boy…GOOD. Pretty good!” you stammer, quickly correcting your blundering words. But it is already too late since Vergil totally heard your blunt admiration. His soft smile turns into a smug grin as your cheeks turn absolutely red with embarrassment. “Yeah…I’m doing pretty good,” you mutter weakly as you avoid his amused gaze, taking a sudden interest in your shoes. 

“I’m glad that you’re doing…pretty good,” Vergil suddenly murmurs by your ear, causing you to squeal softly in surprise. You look back up at him and huff in annoyance at the sight of his very pleased expression as he opens the pastry box. “You made these for me?” He tilts his head a little as he leans in to get a better look at the decadent bouquet of red velvet roses and the phrase written on the inside of the lid. 

You nod your head demurely. “I wanted to thank you for helping me with the flowers. It’s one of my favorite recipes. Do you wanna try a bite?” you offer as you reach for the roll of paper towels still sitting on the counter. “If you don’t like it I could-”

“I’d enjoy anything made by you,” he gently interjects, silver blue eyes shifting over to meet your gaze. They bore into you with a soft intensity that only Vergil can pull off. You smile at his genuine compliment as you rip a square of paper towel and place it next to the box. “But if you insist,” he chuckles as you carefully take out one of the sweet rolls, revealing the word petals, rain, and stars beneath the translucent parchment paper. 

You place the red velvet treat on the paper towel and unravel a small piece of the roll, making sure that it has a healthy portion of icing on it before offering it to him. Vergil squints at the words you have written on the bottom of the box as he takes the piece of sweet roll, giving it a light sniff before taking a bite. Moments like this always makes you so happy as you watch him chew, seeing a spark of delight in his eyes as he tastes your homed baked treat. It also gives you a good excuse to subtly admire his well-defined jawline and velvety pink lips.      

“Good?” you ask as soon as he swallows the treat, not even trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“It’s delicious,” he declares with a grateful smirk. 

You notice a small glob of icing stuck by one of his charming dimples. “You have a little…” you trail off as you gesture towards his cheek, trying to denote where he should wipe his face. He brushes that side of his face, but the glob of icing somehow survives the sweeping of his hand. “Here,” you sigh as you take a step closer to him. “I’ll just…” You reach up with your hand and swipe the icing off with your thumb. 

“There we go!” you remark as another one of your devious ploys pops into you head. Your lips curl into an impish grin as you bring your hand to your mouth and suck the icing off your thumb, making sure your eyes never stray from Vergil’s intense gaze as you do so. You see the pupils of his eyes dilate dramatically as they hone in on your mouth, watching attentively as your tongue peeks out a little to lick the icing. The barest hint of blush appears on his cheeks when you hum in pleasure. You let the provocative moment drag on for a bit before asking the usual question that always brings him back to reality.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

That stunning jawline you adore so much clenches tight as the sharp glint in Vergil’s eyes from earlier comes back in full force. The soft blue hue of his irises seems to ignite as your entire body is electrified by the low rumbling growl emitting from his throat. Your heart beats faster than the wings of a hummingbird as the gorgeous devil of your daydreams and fantasies leans in closer…

The sound of the kitchen door crashing unceremoniously against the wall makes you jump back in alarm. Both of your heads snap over and you sigh in relief when you see it is just Dante lying on the floor. He is clutching the now beat up pastry box close to his chest while vigorously chewing the strawberry donut sticking out of his mouth. You are a little annoyed with him since you will never find out what would have happened if he had not interrupted Vergil’s approach…but you know that it is not his fault, so you just let your agitation go with a sweet smile. 

Vergil snarls and stares down at his meddlesome brother menacingly, scolding him for frightening you with his ridiculous antics. Dante grins sheepishly as he stands up and apologizes for scaring you, but you just laugh since you have gotten used to his sudden bursts of chaotic energy. His mischievous eyes dart between you and Vergil before he informs his surly brother that they still need get ready before everyone leaves them behind. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before they shoot up as you realize just how long you have been here. 

“Oh snapdragons! It’s almost dinner time!”

You let out a string of your own apologies for taking up their time with your surprise visit as you rush out of the kitchen. Nero, Kyrie, and Nico are sitting in the couch while Trish and Lady are standing by the bar in the corner of the office. They all look over in interest as you scurry over to the desk and sling your purse over your shoulder. You are about to say your farewells to everyone when a familiar hand brushes against your arm. 

Vergil gently coaxes you to turn around and face him. You notice that endearing crinkle between his brow is scrunched up in thought as he speaks. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Would you like to join us forever?!” came Dante’s very boisterous addendum from the kitchen. This earns a very harsh glower directed at the kitchen door from Vergil while you giggle softly. Everyone else in the shop either laughs or just sighs and shakes their head at the door. 

You glance over at Vergil’s hand still holding onto your arm, considering his gracious invitation to dinner with the whole crew. You cannot even recall the last time you went out to eat in the city, much less spend time with anyone outside of your business. In fact, you have not been this sociable in a long time…seeing the whole crew laughing and joking together reminds you of the family you wished you had growing up. 

The longing for familial company bubbles in the pit of your stomach now. You have gotten used to being alone all the time, but maybe…you are like that one bud that blooms too soon in a bed of flowers: lonely for a time as its petals bask in the sunlight, but waiting patiently as it hopes for rain…so that the fellow buds may grow, bloom, and become a family of flowers. 

Perhaps the rain has finally come.

Perhaps you don’t have to be a lonely flower.

“Yes!” you blurt out as you run a finger up the inside of Vergil’s forearm, gazing up at him warmly as you subtly get his attention. A brilliant smile blooms on your face as you nod your head eagerly. “Yes…I’d love to join you all for dinner!” 

Vergil begins to smile back, but the crashing of the kitchen door again twists his lips into a grimace. Dante zooms by the desk, puts an arm around his brother’s shoulder, and practically pulls him up the stairs. Their brotherly squabbles echo through the office and, going by the harsh grunt, ends when Dante gets stabbed. 

Kyrie ushers you to sit on the couch while you wait, chatting about how you made the strawberry donuts and promising to swap recipes sometime. Nero and Nico soon join in and, as you laugh along with Kyrie at all their jokes and banter, you no longer feel like that one lone bud hoping for rain. 

You have finally found your family of flowers at Devil May Cry. 

Read Part 7 (Ch. 2) here

Read on Ao3

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Tagging: @drusoona, @bettybattaglia, @exsultry, @thedyingmoon, @veenus-ow, @meowykittenn, @fandomhell97, @vergilsangel, @venomous-lawyer, @thenightgazer, @cherryvane, @yesno18, @diabeticsugarush, @queenmuzz, @mary-v-o-n, @tinamalee, @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey, @divinity-deos, @ancientwhitefire, @agentdedf1sh, @clevermentalitybeliever 

#vergil x reader #vergil #devil may cry #dmc5 #romance #fluff #flowers #the language of flowers #gardener reader #writing #fanfiction #humor #meeting the family #hijinks and shenanigans #mutual pining #flirting #a rose among the briars #The Heart of the Camellia #home baked treats and spontaneous cleaning #she's a keeper vergil #uwu #the poem is by ivyandrose #and can you spot the two disney references? X3 #harlot writes

[borathae]

↳ Index [#07 Act Seven: Hearts Come Together]

Warnings: awkward tension & misunderstandings, fighting & more misunderstandings lmao

Wordcount: 8k

“D-do you want to w-walk together?” Yoongi asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Sure I’d love to”, you smile. 

“Cool”, he murmurs, smiling softly. 

You walk down the familiar path, past the many small houses and little shops and over the wooden bridge on which the lamp posts shine. 

“You know I have never seen where you live”, you break the silence. 

“It’s b-boring. You d-don’t want to see it”, he answers. 

He kicks a little stone, it rolls off the bridge, landing in the water. Waves dance over the surface, small circles turn into bigger ones, big circles turn into even bigger ones. In perfect harmony they coexist. You both had watched the circles dance on the water’s surface, standing next to each other as each of you held onto the wooden railing.

“I’m sure it’s not”, you assure him.

You turn to him, leaning your hip against the railing. You love how his nose looks in the lighting, how it curves perfectly and how his philtrum casts a faint shadow as it connects his button nose with his doll-like lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, it’s quiet and if it wasn’t for the silence of the evening you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. His eyes begin to sparkle in excitement, the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

“Are you indirectly a-asking me to, to show you my home?”

You shrug your shoulders, not daring to look at him, feeling nervous.

“Maybe I am”, you mumble.

Yoongi takes a quick glance at you, before he starts to blush.

“You can say no of course, I just wanted to, I don’t know, spend a little more time with you. Now that you are so busy with practice”, you confess.

“With me? W-why?” Yoongi gasps, his eyes widened.

You look at him, not quite believing that he still doesn’t realise how much fun it is to spend time with him.

“Because I like hanging out with you.”

“Oh”, his lips form an o-shape, his cheeks are flushed pink.

He looks so cute, it makes you giggle fondly.

“And besides I’m sure you haven’t had a proper meal in days. I can’t let you go to bed on an empty stomach”, you add.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. One side of his body screams at him to run, overwhelmed by your affection, whilst the other half tells him to stay and finally accept your kindness. This is all so new to him, so foreign but all so, so...Amazing, it feels amazing.

“Is it t-that obvious?” he almost sounds embarrassed that he was caught.

“Kind of yeah”, you chuckle.

It makes Yoongi laugh too, his chest feels so warm.

“So what is your answer?”

A moment of silence, only the rushing of the stream can be heard and the distant honk of a car.

“O-okay”, he mumbles, nodding furiously.

“Cool”, you swallow down your squeal, “I’m happy.”

The both of you don’t take the usual right turn as you always do when Yoongi walks you home, but instead he leads you straight down the road. You had never been in this area so every new house you pass by is exciting to you. Yoongi, who had very much noticed your obvious interest in this place, smiles to himself, looking to the side so you wouldn’t be able to see it.

“I’m already really g-good at t-the piece”, he says proudly.

You look at him.

“Are you? I’m happy for you.”

Yoongi nods, smiling in a thin line.

“I didn’t like it at first. I thought it’s too b-boring for a competition b-but now I really like it.”

“Yes I was quite surprised myself when I read the required piece, I really thought they would choose Liszt so seeing Beethoven's name on the paper surprised me a lot.”

“Me too. They probably chose it because Liszt would be t-too hard for m-most students.”

You snort, sending Yoongi an amused look.

“Do I hear an ounce of cockiness in your voice right now?”

Yoongi grins in a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m just saying.”

You chuckle. This newfound confidence suits him, making your heart race all the more.

“Do you think I will be able to listen to it soon? I’m already so curious to hear.”

“Uhm”, Yoongi coughs, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I d-don’t k-know. M-maybe?” he stutters, blushing.

“Or perhaps it would be better if Taehyung listened to you first. After all, you have known him longer than me.”

“No!” Yoongi blurts out, startling you.

You stare at him with big eyes. 

He is cringing. He didn’t plan on yelling right now, why on earth did his body betray him like that. He feels awful, you even flinched because of him.  

“I mean-“, he clears his throat, “I w-want you to be first”, he mumbles, averting his  shy gaze to the ground.

You aren’t scared of him now, are you? He looks at you from the corners of his eyes. Your face glows in happiness, your eyes are sparkling and your lips smiling. 

“You, you do?” you bite the tip of your tongue to stop yourself from grinning like a madwoman.

“Yes I d-do", Yoongi nods, still keeping his head lowered. He is blushing vividly right now, his whole face feels like it is burning up. 

You almost seem to skip slightly with every step you take, like an excited little child at a funfair. Yoongi feels his heart speed up and his stomach clench. You are so beautiful.

“Thank you for trusting me so much”, you say and giggle.

Yoongi simply hums, nodding his head. He is lost for words right now, he doesn’t want to ruin this moment right now. He doesn't want to give you an answer because he knows that his voice would crack like the giddy man he is.

You sigh happily, looking up into the sky.

“The clouds are all gone again, you can see so many stars tonight. Look”, you point at the sky, smiling at him with sparkling eyes.  

Yoongi looks up. You are right. Millions and millions of white stars twinkle on the black sky, some shine brighter than others. Butterflies dance in his stomach. He never realised how beautiful the night sky looks, how the stars paint patterns on their black canvas. A dog, some circles, a big heart. Yoongi can see paintings in the sky. Has the world always been this beautiful? He was always too busy with trying to hide the world away under a big hood and with his eyes lowered to the ground to notice. It is the first time in a long time that his head is raised and that his eyes take in the beauty. He can breathe again, in this cold winter's night he finally feels like breathing freely again.

You giggle. Your hand brushes his for the slightest bit, making his skin tingle.

“You see those stars over there. It’s a constellation, Ursa Major.”

“I do”, he says, following the path your fingers paint for him with his eyes.

“My dad always watched the stars with me when I was little, that’s why I love looking at them so much”, you smile, “he always took my hand before he walked out into the garden with me. We sat down next to the roses my mother had planted and then we just looked into the sky for what felt like hours as he showed me every constellation he could remember.”

“You must have had an amazing childhood.”

“Yeah”, you chuckle, “yeah I did. Sometimes I miss it”, you sigh sadly.

“Me too.”

“Did you also watch the stars with your father?” you look at him.

He is shaking his head, smiling sadly.

“No I didn’t. But I always went on adventures with my older brother. We lived close t-to mountains for the first d-decade of my life and, and every morning my brother would wake me up and, and t-tell me that it is time for our adventures again”, he chuckles, “I loved waking up so much b-because of t-that. We, we would spend the whole d-day in the mountains until we had t-to come home for dinner.”

“This sounds like so much fun.”

He nods his head, looking at you with smiling eyes.

“It was.”

You both sigh in contentment, looking up into the sky again. A small cloud drifts past the moon, covering its right half completely. It gets darker down on earth with the moon covered. Colder too. You both shiver.

“And now look at us, both living in a city far too big for us”, you say.

“Yeah”, he answers, sounding just as sad as you do.

“It’s so cold all of a sudden”, you not only mean the weather right now, your heart feels heavy in your chest.

“It is?” he looks at you before unwrapping the thick grey scarf from his neck. “Here take this.”

He wraps it around you, the gesture making butterflies dance in your stomach. The scarf feels soft on your skin, it is still warm from Yoongi. It smells like him.

“But what about you? Aren’t you cold too?” you tangle your fingers in his scarf, not wanting to let go.

He shakes his head, hiding his freezing fingers in the pockets of his jacket.

“I’m not, just t-take it for now. I d-don’t need it”, he mumbles.

Your cheeks heat up, your chest feels warm.

“Thank you”, you mumble before snuggling your face into his scarf and inhaling the scent.

You may be lost in a city too big for you, but with Yoongi by your side, being lost doesn’t seem that scary anymore.

Yoongi stops abruptly, seemingly on edge. He jumps from one foot to the other, fidgeting with his jacket sleeves as he looks at you with blushing cheeks.

“Y-you may have h-heard a, a lot of t-things about m-my apartment. But just-“, he sighs, “p-please d-don’t judge”, he whispers almost sadly.

You break the distance between the two of you. His eyes race between yours.

“Hey”, you touch his elbow, “you know that I don’t buy the crap people say, I won’t judge.”

Your promise seems to relax Yoongi, his fidgeting stops, his breathing returns to normal.

“Okay, w-well then we are here”, he says, pointing down a flight of stairs, which seem to lead to a cellar.

It is narrow and badly lit, definitely creepy if you were being honest. Interesting. You hadn’t expected that, you had figured he would point at one of the contemporary apartments above your heads.

Yoongi leads you down the stairs, you in front and him in the back.

“I b-bought it myself”, he says almost proudly, “It’s not b-big, but it’s still nice inside, t-trust me.”

He unlocks his door, his body close to yours in the narrow staircase. You feel the material of his jacket brush against your arm with every move he makes. The smell of his perfume tickles your nose, his face so close you would be able to kiss his cheek if only you leaned forward. Is he as affected by the close proximity as you are right now? He doesn’t seem like it at least, his eyes are fixated on the now opened door.

Thankfully humans aren’t able to hear other peoples racing heartbeats, Yoongi thinks to himself as he tries not to stare at you too much.

“Welcome to Casa del Min”, he announces as he steps through the door and lets you inside.

You laugh, finding it hilarious how he had sounded right now. Yoongi looks at you, basking in your appreciation for his joke. Cute, he thinks to himself, before a fond smile creeps up his blushing face.

“I’m honored”, you laugh, stepping inside.

Just as Yoongi had promised, the apartment looks a lot cozier inside. It is small, just one room in which the kitchen, the living room and the entrance area are. The bathroom is probably behind the closed door opposite of the entrance. The walls are painted white, fresh. Yoongi must have painted them recently.

“D-do you want a t-tour?” he asks.

“Sure why not”, you nod your head.

“Okay so h-here is the living room. I use t-the couch as m-my bed and as m-my dining table too”, he sits down on it.

“That’s some great multitasking you are doing there”, you say and chuckle, sitting down next to him.

“Y-yeah”, he says shyly.

His mind has only processed now how close you are, how your full attention is on him right now, how he could reach out and hold your hand. He swallows, feeling himself getting anxious all of a sudden.

He points at the kitchen, his head lowered.

“A-and that is, is my k-kitchen. I cook stuff t-there”, he mumbles.

He points to the closed door, his cheeks heating up.

“T-that’s m-my b-bathroom. I d-do b-bathroom stuff in t-there”, he murmurs, having to take a deep breath after finishing his sentence.

You can’t help but laugh, finding his behavior heartwreckingly endearing.

“W-why?” he asks confused.

“Nothing”, you giggle, “I just think you are really cute”, you confess, making Yoongi blush all the more.

“Oh, I, oh. I-“, he coughs, “h-hungry. Are y-you a-also hungry?” he jumps up from the couch, waddling to the kitchen and opening cupboard after cupboard.

Act natural, he thinks to himself. Don’t let her know that he is practically melting because of her words.

“W-what you want?” he has to swallow. Why does his mouth feel so dry?

“What do you have?”

You watch him scurry around, kneeling in front of an opened cupboard and taking out everything except a cooking pot. When he finally does manage to grab a pot, plastic bowls and different sized pans litter his floor.

“Ramen and s-some rice”, he has been staring into his nearly empty fridge for what feels like hours now. Why does his face still feel like it is burning up? Is the fridge turned off, why isn’t it cooling him down?

“It’s not quite the proper meal I had imagined but I won’t complain. Ramen always sounds nice”, you say, finally standing up to walk to the kitchen as well.

You step over the bowls and pans on the floor, trying your hardest not to accidentally step on one.

“I, I could walk down t-to the store if you w-want”, he suggests, pulling out his wallet.

“No Yoongi, it’s okay, don’t worry”, you send him a reassuring smile.

“R-really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t worry I like ramen”, you assure him, pouring some water into the pot, “I was just worried about you not getting enough nutrients”, you joke.

“Why me?” he is watching you with curious eyes, leaning against the fridge for support.

“Because you have been practicing day and night, giving yourself no time to eat properly”, you explain.

You pick up the package of instant ramen, Yoongi had laid out for you. Spicy chicken flavor with vegetable flakes. One of your favourites, so Yoongi is a man of taste.

“Oh”, he chuckles in embarrassment, “I just want the song t-to be great. I really want to w-win.”

You look up from the stove to send him a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure you will. You are so talented.”

Yoongi looks to the ground, hiding his giddy smile.

“T-thanks”, he mumbles, almost giggles even.

The water has finally started to cook and with a few skilled movements the ramen are in the pot, cooking happily in their spicy chicken broth. The smell is mouthwatering, making not only yours but also Yoongi’s stomach grumble.

“Just five more minutes and we can eat. Do you want an egg in yours?” you say as you walk to the fridge.

Yoongi, who had only realised now that he basically made you do everything, rips the fridge open before you can, pulling out his last two eggs.

“You, you don’t need to, to cook for me. You are my g-guest”, he says, his voice filled with guilt.

“And what if I want to?”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, looking at you parted with lips.

“You have been working so hard, let me treat you tonight like the good friend I am”, you tell him as you take the eggs out of his hands.

His skin brushes over yours just for the slightest of moments, but it still leaves you hot all over. Friend, you almost laugh at the irony of your own words. You feel so guilty, calling him your friend but secretly wanting nothing more than to kiss those rosy cheeks of his.

You quickly turn around before your urges get the best of you, walking back to the stove. Two minutes left, the perfect time to put in the eggs and stare awkwardly long into the steaming pot.

Yoongi, who had watched you with sparkling eyes, finally gives in and walks back to the couch. He sits down, relaxing into the soft cushions. You were right, he feels so tired that he could honestly fall asleep right here and there if it wasn’t for you still being with him. What he must have done in his past to deserve someone as nice and caring as you in his life. He still doesn’t know the answer to that, probably never will. He watches you split the ramen equally into two bowls with your tongue sticking out, whilst you hum a happy melody. He doesn’t know what that warm feeling in his chest means, but he knows one thing for sure. He never wants this to end.

Once you feel satisfied with the garnish, basically some sesame seeds which came with the package, you walk to Yoongi.

“Here you go. Be careful it’s so hot”, you say, handing him the bowl of steaming noodles.

He accepts it with a content nod of his head and a quite “thank you.”

You and him take the first bite of food at the same time, both of you humming happily at the taste of chewy noodles and the flavorful chicken soup.

“There is nothing better than hot ramen at night”, you gush to which Yoongi agrees with a loud hum.

“Although my face always looks so swollen the next morning”, you mumble with food stuffed in your mouth.

“That’s a price I-I’m willing to pay”, Yoongi retorts.

“I have to agree with you on that one”, you chuckle.

Once your bowls are empty and your stomachs full, you stand up, ready to clean the dishes. Yoongi however stops you before you can go to the kitchen, refusing to hand you his bowl.

“Just leave them. I, I will clean up tomorrow”, he tells you, making you sit down.

“You sure? It’s no problem.”

“I’m sure, j-just relax a little”, he wants to pat your arm, give it a gentle squeeze, but before his skin can touch yours, he pulls back in nervousness.

“Alright, o-okay”, you stutter.

With nothing distracting you from the fact of how close you actually are, your heart soon begins to race. The natural silence falls between you two, your not-so-secret glances at each other begin. Yoongi fidgets with a pillow he holds tightly in his hands, staring at the opposite wall.

You look around his apartment. He has a lot more plants than you had imagined, six if you don't count in the spring onion plant next to his sink.

“It’s really cozy here. I like the plants you have”, you say.

Yoongi looks at you for the briefest of moments.

“T-thank you. Taehyung t-told me to get some so I would have a reason to, to go home and not practice all week”, he says.

“That’s actually a clever idea”, you chuckle.

“Yeah it d-doesn’t quite work. I originally had fifteen plants”, he confesses.

You snort, giggling afterwards.

“But hey at least you still have those seven left.”

“True I guess”, he shrugs his shoulders.

He doesn’t have a piano, all to your surprise, which explains his late night practices at school.

“I could have been sure that you owned a piano.”

“Why?”

“Because you look like someone owning one”, you turn your head to him, he is looking at you curiously, “did you ever own a piano before?”

“Yeah”, he looks back at the wall, clutching the pillow tightly, “at h-home in my p-parents house I had t-two.”

“You did? Wow, that's so great that they are supporting your dream. You must be really close to your parents, right?”

Yoongi looks at you for the briefest of moments. He shrugs his shoulders, his jaw tensed.

“Not really.”

Your smile drops when seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“Oh, really? But I thought they supported you, you know, paying for the school and everything.”

Yoongi scoffs, it almost sounds angry. He doesn’t look into your eyes, instead his eyes burn holes into the wall next to him. Was asking him about his parents a good idea? He seems so distant all of a sudden.

“I don’t really like to talk about them”, he says coldly.

You swallow at the tone of his voice, having to wrap your arms around your own body to stop yourself from shivering. It sounds so cold, so distant, like he is angry at you for asking such stupid questions.

“Okay, yeah, I mean that’s, that’s totally fine”, you laugh awkwardly.

Yoongi nods his head the slightest bit, still not looking at you. The cold shoulder he has turned to you, makes you feel like you are at the wrong place, like he doesn’t even want you here. 

"Shall we talk about something else?"

Yoongi turns even more of his back to you. 

“A-actually, I think it’s getting rather late anyways. I think I should get going now and, and let you get your well-deserved sleep”, you say, stumbling to your feet and to the entrance.

You feel so guilty, you made him clearly so uncomfortable with your noisy questions that he doesn’t even want to look at you anymore. You just want to run away, get out of this stupid situation as soon as possible.

You are too busy with tying your shoes to notice Yoongi burying his face in the palms of his hands in frustration as a tired sigh leaves his lips. You stand up, grabbing the door knob.

“I’ll get going then”, you look at him, he doesn’t meet your eyes, “thanks for the ramen, they tasted really good.”

Yoongi nods, his fists are clenched by his sides, his shoulders shaking.

“Maybe one day we can repeat it again”, you force a smile to your lips.

Yoongi still doesn’t look at you, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Anyways. See you soon”, you twist the doorknob, stepping outside.

Yoongi jumps up, rushing to you. Your eyes are big, your heart races in anticipation.

“Do, do you want me t-to walk you home?” he asks, almost hopeful.

“No it’s okay, just get your sleep. I’m a big girl I can manage”, you tell him.

His face falls, his eyes seem almost lifeless, tired and glassy.

“Okay”, he whispers before turning around dragging himself back to the couch.

How you would love to dug him in, stroke his hair and tell him how sorry you are for mentioning his parents. But you have already done enough damage for today, so instead you whisper your goodbye and close the door behind you.

The night is cold and gruesome, freezing you down to your bones, making you shiver uncontrollably on your way back home. In your haste you had totally forgotten your coat at Yoongi’s place. Perhaps you deserve to freeze for messing it up with him again. God, you could slap your past-self straight across her stupid, nosy face.

Sleep comes hard for you that night. Even with three blankets covering you, you can’t stop shivering. When sleep does finally come, after two hours of tossing and turning, the ringing of your phone wakes you up mercilessly just twenty minutes after drifting off.

You don’t even check the caller, instantly rejecting them. You curse them loudly, pressing the palms of your hands to your tired eyes. They can’t be serious, who on earth thinks that two in the morning is a reasonable time to call someone. Perhaps it had been Jungkook or Jimin calling, to try and get your forgiveness. Well, now they sure won’t get it.

The caller tries again, you can feel the vibration of your phone first before the loud ringtone blasts through the silent room.

You groan, reaching for the phone to pick up. You don’t even care to check the caller's ID, your only goal is to tell the person calling off in the rudest way possible.

“___?” Yoongi’s voice makes you instantly swallow down the insults.

He sounds even raspier on the phone.

“Yes?”

“They disowned me and told me to never come back once t-they found out that, t-that I won’t perform.”

Your hazy mind needs a moment to register his words. Who is he talking about?

“And now we, we don’t-“, Yoongi swallows hard, “-we don’t talk anymore. T-they cut my allowance and, and took away m-my apartment”, he sighs, takes a shaky breath, “and now they want me to, to pay them back the, the school’s fee.”

And then it clicks. Like pieces of a domino everything falls into place. His parents, he is talking about his parents.

“Yoongi I-. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your f-fault.”

“It kind of is, I asked this stupid question and made you think of something so painful. I feel like I’m forcing you to think of something you don’t even want to think about.”

“You’re not forcing me. I wanted t-to tell you. I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about you, no I mean, not y-you, but how you left. And I was so scared that, that I messed it up again, that’s why I, I called to m-make it right. I'm s-sorry for t-turning my back on y-you.”

“There is nothing to make right here Yoongi. I’m not mad at you.”

Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god, I thought I ruined everything.”

“You didn’t.”

You smile, closing your eyes, imagining his face, his smell, how his arms would feel wrapped around you. And little did you know, Yoongi is doing the exact same thing, resting his head on a pillow in hopes it would feel just like your shoulder.

He whispers your name.

“Yes?”

“Do you think I could show them?”

“Show who?”

“My parents at the competition, that I started to, to perform.

“Of course you can, you just have to invite them.”

Yoongi hums a yes as he tightens his arms around his pillows. Silence, all you can hear is his steady breathing and the ticking of your alarm clock.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not falling asleep are you?”

“No-“, he yawns, “-I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“The competition. I’m-“, he takes a shaky breath, “I’m so scared.”

 “Don’t be, I’m sure you’ll nail it.”

“B-but what if I blush? Or, or freeze? Or forget everything? I’m so scared ___”, he sounds so small.

“Hey Yoongi, don't think about the what ifs too much. You still have one week to go, that’s enough time to perfect your play and work on your stage fright.”

“Will you help me?” he sounds quiet, hopeful.

“I would love to help you. I could start anytime, tomorrow, next Tuesday, right now. You name it.”

Yoongi laughs at your enthusiasm, loudly and heartfelt. The sound is new to you, leaving you almost breathless.

“T-tomorrow maybe?” he is still laughing carelessly.

“Sure let’s make it tomorrow then”, your heart races in your chest.

Yoongi smiles, hugging his pillow tighter to his body and nuzzling his face into it.

“Nice”, he breathes.

“Nice. I’ll bring some snacks as well.”

“Okay.”

You both take a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. You feel excited, your body is prickling, like millions of ants crawl through your veins, your heart is racing.

“So I guess that’s official then?”

Yoongi hums a yes, nodding his head eventhough you can’t see him.

“Cool. See you tomorrow then”, you say as calmly as possible.

“See you tomorrow.”

You are in the middle of ending the call when Yoongi calls your name.

“Yes Yoongi?”

“Sweet d-dreams”, he whispers fondly.

You smile.

“Sweet dreams to you too. Good night.”

“Good night.”

And with that you both end the call at the same time with happiness in your heart and butterflies in your stomachs.

You arrive at the practice room at exactly ten minutes past eleven. The school is long empty and the hallways quiet. So is the practice room. In fact it is so quiet you are scared Yoongi might have forgotten about your arrangement. 

That is until you twist the doorknob, revealing a moonlit practice room and Yoongi leaning against the window sill whilst staring out into the night. He has his back turned to you and earbuds in. His fingers tap on the black marble window sill to the melody of the song he is listening to. Tiny hums leave him, a little higher in pitch than his normal talking voice. It brings a smile to your face. He really is a cute man when he thinks no one is watching. 

"Someone seems to be in a good mood tonight", you say as you flick the light switch on.

Yoongi flinches, gasping in shock before he twists around. He blinks rapidly, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the sudden bright lights.  

"You just, shit, you scared me so m-much", he pants, pressing his hand flat to his chest.

You stifle a laugh at seeing his expression. His eyes are widened comically big and his eyebrows are raised high with his lips curled into a small pout.

"Sorry I thought you heard me come in."

Yoongi removes his earbuds, turns his music off and puts his phone on the window sill. 

"I didn't. I listened t-to music", he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. 

"I figured, I liked the little hums you did. They sounded great", you tell him. 

Yoongi’s eyes widen. 

"What?" he gasps, "you, you heard t-that?" 

"Just a little yeah." 

Yoongi starts fumbling with the sleeves of his flannel, seemingly embarrassed. He avoids looking at you, instead his head is lowered. 

"Should I be scared of competition now?" you joke. 

Yoongi laughs, raising his head and waving his hands “no”. 

"No, no I c-could never do what you d-do. It's too stressful", he chuckles. 

You join his laughter, breaking the distance between the two of you now that the first initial discomfort had been broken. 

"Says the pianist out of the two of us. Playing the piano is stressful too."

"I guess", his eyes race as he is thinking hard, "it's p-probably because I, I know what I, I am doing whilst playing the, the piano that, that I don't see it as stressful. Same as you with singing, r-right?"

He looks at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly to the right.

"Now that you put it like that. Yes that's right." 

He grins when getting your approval that his theory is correct. 

"Speaking of knowing what you are doing. How is practice going? Did you practice some before I arrived here?" you point at the black grand piano. 

The cover is opened, the chair slightly dragged out from underneath the piano and sheet music rests in its designated stand.  

"A little", Yoongi mumbles, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly. 

Suddenly he sighs.

"I d-don't know if I can do it", he confesses as his shoulders sag in defeat. 

"Hey", you pat his arm reassuringly, "I won't judge you, promise." 

He looks at you, the fond smile on his face making your heart beat faster in your chest. 

"Do you perhaps want to try now?" you have to swallow from the way Yoongi’s eyes sparkle for you. 

Did it get warmer in this room? Your cheeks feel terribly hot right now. 

"Okay", he nods his head. 

He shuffles to the piano and sits down on the chair. He stares at the keys and sheet music whilst biting on his nails, his left leg is fidgeting up and down under the piano. He looks tense and anxious, it almost reminds you of Yoongi in the first few days of meeting him.

"Okay", he whispers to encourage himself. 

He puts his hands on the keys, they start visibly shaking. His breathing gets ragged. 

"Do you want a break?" you suggest, keeping your distance as to not overwhelm him even more.

His shoulders rise to his ears, his hands clench to fists. 

"B-breathe, I j-just need t-to b-breathe", he says quietly. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling loudly. From where you are standing you can see that he has his eyes closed as he continuously breathes in and out. 

You keep quiet the entire time, waiting patiently until he calms down enough to open his eyes again. He takes a quick glance at you. He is blushing. 

"I'm sorry", he murmurs. 

"Don't apologize. It's okay", you assure him. 

Yoongi nods his head thankfully. 

"I'll t-try now", he says before looking back at the piano. 

His fingers hit the keys, shrill at first, almost as if he wanted to see if the piano actually works. When it is very clear for both of you that it does work, the shrill key smashing quickly turns into light notes. The melody normally is fast paced and loud but Yoongi takes his time with the notes, playing everything slow and calculated. It doesn't sound like his play at all, he is almost forcing the piano to produce sound. 

And Yoongi senses it as his fingers soon stop on the keys. 

"This sounded terrible. I'm s-sorry", he sounds sad. 

His head is lowered, the once happy expression from his face wiped away.

"No it's okay. That was just you warming up your fingers, I get it."

You have found a chair to sit down, watching him from his right side.

"Yeah, warming up”, he mumbles, nodding.

He likes this excuse, warming up never has to sound nice. You aren’t judging him right now. That thought makes him feel weirdly at ease.

He cracks his knuckles, rolling his head to stretch his neck. 

His fingers land on the keys again, he starts playing. He plays faster this time, louder as well and definitely with more confidence in himself. You can hear the first nuances of Yoongi in the melody. It's still faint, like he doesn’t quite want to come out of hiding yet. But slowly, very slowly, the air around you begins to dance, asking you to get lost in the melody with it.

That is until his finger slips off the keys from being sweaty and a shrill note pierces through the air. 

Yoongi winces, instantly hiding his face behind his hands. You can hear him mumble curse words under his breath, most of them are muffled by his hands.

“I’m such a failure”, he whines loudly enough for you to hear.

“Hey Yoongi don’t”, you stand up and walk to the piano to sit down next to him.

You place your hand on his arm, his muscle tensing up at your touch. His hands fall from his face to stare at you instead. He looks totally taken aback by your touch, his eyes racing between yours.

“You’re not a failure”, you assure him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

“I am”, he mumbles.

“Don’t do that”, you didn’t intend for your voice to come out angry, but it still did.

Yoongi tilts his head to the side in question, raising one of his eyebrows.

“Stop talking so badly about yourself. You wouldn’t want other people talking to you like that, would you?”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“No I, I wouldn’t.”

“So why are you allowing yourself to talk so badly about your own abilities?”

“I-“, Yoongi lowers his head, “-don’t know”, he mumbles quietly.

Sensing his need for comfort you caress his arm with gentle fingers. Maybe you had imagined it, but it almost seemed like Yoongi had leaned into your touch as his eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments.

“You are so hardworking and you will play this song perfectly, because you are such a talented person”, you encourage him.

He blushes and smiles.

“Okay, I, I will”, he says as he turns back to the keys again.

His fingers instantly land on the right notes, starting to play. They seem to dance over the keys, moving in perfect sync of the melody with such speed your eyes can’t keep up. Soon all you can see is the beautiful picture the music paints in your head. Fallen leaves of trees as high as mountains dance through a stormy night as they go on their long journey to the far away ground. A wild mountain spring carves its way ruthlessly through the dark stone and in the distance the last shine of the setting sun gets swallowed by the high mountains. Darkness eats light and out of the darkness new light gets born.

“Oh no”, Yoongi rips you out of your daydreams.

You look at him. His face looks paler than usual, his eyes stare emptily at his fingers on the keys. He is breathing hard, his jaw is clenched.

“I messed up.”

He sighs tiredly, pressing his palms flat to his face. He groans loudly.

“I, I can’t. I, just, I can’t”, he breathes heavily, shaking his head.

Watching him beat himself up over such a minor thing hurts your heart. You place a comforting hand over his, revealing his face to you as you pull his palms closer to you. He lets you, watching you with big eyes and surprise glistening in them.

You smile.

"Tell me when did you realise that music was the thing you wanted to do in life?" you ask.

Maybe changing the topic for a moment and making Yoongi think of something other than having to play the piano will help him calm down. Yoongi raises one of his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. 

"I, I don't know, w-when I was a, a child", he finally says, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh really? I did too", you chuckle. 

Yoongi lowers his head, staring at the keys. He still doesn't quite get why you so suddenly changed topics. Or why you are sitting so close all of a sudden or holding his hand for that matter. God, your presence makes him feel so dizzy, his heart races like crazy in his tight chest. He knows exactly why he messed up, you are so close it is impossible to concentrate on anything other than your presence.

"D-did you always know that you w-want to be a, a musician?" he asks. 

His fingers had unintentionally started playing with yours, tracing your skin gently.

"I think I kind of did, yeah. Maybe I didn't quite realise it at first but deep down in my heart I always knew I wanted to one day be a musician." 

Yoongi doesn't say anything, instead he keeps looking at you with curious eyes. He is listening intently to what you are saying. 

"What about you? Did you always know you wanted to be a musician?" you ask. 

Yoongi nods his head vigorously with a confident look on his face. He looks away, staring at the piano with a dreamy gaze.

"Yes I, I did. I love m-music, I-I really d-do. I a-always d-did. Music always m-made me feel safe and l-like I can be the real me, without having to think of other people's opinions. That's why I became a musician because I can escape reality even if it's just for a short moment. Playing the piano makes me so happy", he smiles, "when I close my eyes and I feel my fingers touch the cold keys of the piano my whole body feels so light, like I can fly, and once that first note rings in my ears I kind of forget myself", he chuckles, "yes, I can really forget everything around me when I'm with my music. I love that feeling", he smiles brightly. 

Silence. You simply stare at him with big eyes and your heart racing in your chest. Yoongi, who had noticed your silence, turns his head to look at you confused. 

"W-what?" 

"Nothing, you just-", you send him a fond smile, "-didn't stutter right now." 

Yoongi’s lips become o-shaped, his eyes grow big. It almost seems like he is shocked by your words. 

"Oh", he whispers. 

"Yeah", you breathe, smiling. 

He is smiling too, more with his eyes than his lips, beautiful indeed. 

You keep looking at each other, lost in one another's eyes. Two little galaxies glimmer in his dark brown orbs, the beauty of them so immense you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You can hear him breathe, it is the softest sound your ears have ever taken in. Your eyes break contact, flickering down to his lips. They are parted, as pink as always, glistening in the lights. They would probably feel so soft on yours. 

Your stomach does somersaults at your thought, your heart speeds up. 

You want to kiss him so badly, want to ghost your lips over his and earn a shy gasp from him. You want to tangle your fingers in his dark hair and make him shiver, his hair would probably feel so soft on your skin. 

Yes, you really want to feel him close right now, show him just how beautiful he is when he is talking about his passions. 

Your fingers around his hand tighten, your knees brush against his as you scoot closer, your eyes still stare at his lips.

Yoongi’s breathing quickens, his cheeks heat up. He had noticed your eyes staring at his lips. It excites him so much, makes his heart race quickly. His fingers clutch the material of his pants, his palms feel sweaty. He is so nervous. What if he read the signs wrong and your eyes just randomly zoned out on his lips? Would you scream if he tried to kiss you, maybe even slap him and call him a pervert? 

He has to risk it, even if it means getting his heart broken and his pride hurt. 

He leans forward just the tiniest bit, his eyes are fixated on your lips, mesmerized by them. He holds his breath, all he can hear is his own heartbeat.

You however are far too embarrassed about your mind wandering to notice it. You turn your head away in nervousness, laughing awkwardly. Yoongi stops himself midair, nearly falling into you if he hadn't held onto the piano. 

"Not that I mind your stutter of course, but I'm glad that you feel relaxed enough now", you blurt out as your attempt at saving the situation. You pull your hand away from his, hiding it in the pockets of your hoodie instead.

Yoongi must think you are a total weirdo, staring at his lips like that. Hopefully you were able to defuse the situation from becoming too uncomfortable for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, turning his head to stare at the piano. He scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Fuck, his chest aches so much right now. 

"Y-yeah", he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek afterwards. 

"Anyways. Uhm, do you want to try again?" you ask.

“Mhm?” he stares at your lips again. His heart does somersaults in his chest, he has to stop himself from giggling. Perhaps you changed your mind, perhaps you do want to kiss him.

“The piano, do you think you feel confident enough to try it again?”

“Oh”, he quickly looks away, “that’s what you were talking about.”

“What else did you think I was talking about?” you tilt your head to the side, clearly confused by the disappointment in his voice.

“Nothing! I just-. Nothing”, he laughs awkwardly.

You force a chuckle out of you, feeling the need to cup your burning ears.

“Alright cool”, you mumble, clearing your throat afterwards.

The air around you feels so tense. You feel hot, the thick sweater you are wearing making you sweat. You really want to jump up and scream right now, the pressure in your chest gets close to unbearable. Yoongi is so quiet next to you. Why is he so quiet? Is he judging you for nervously fidgeting on the chair next to him? Is he studying the sheet music?

You look at him, meeting his eyes. You look away, biting the inside of your mouth. Why is he staring at you? He must be judging you right now, probably regretting ever inviting you to practice.

“Sorry”, you quickly stumble to your feet, backing away from him, “this is so weird right now.”

“Mhm mhm”, he brushes his fingers through his hair, sighing tiredly.

“You want to keep going?” you laugh nervously.

Yoongi eyes you for a moment in complete silence before he breaks the silence with a loud sigh.

“What are we even doing here?” he asks as he stands up from the piano.

“Practicing your play, what else should there be?”

“Okay, so you think this-“, he gestures between you and him, “-is normal? Like, like there isn’t something else going on here?”

“Something else? Yoongi, what exactly are you talking about?”

You avoid looking at him in fear of him noticing the panic in your eyes.

“You say all these nice things to me. You are convinced I’m a, a good guy, despite knowing nothing about me. And then you, you hold my hand and try to kiss me only to pull away again.”

“I didn’t try to kiss you, don’t be ridiculous”, you want nothing more than for the floor to swallow you whole right now.

“You are just using me aren’t you? To go laugh with your friends Jimin and Jungkook about me later. Right? That’s what this is all about, get the school pervert to like you so you have another thing you can spread around and make fun of.”

His face is contorted in anger, his jaw clenched and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“And now that I’m actually starting to, to show interest you pull back, because kissing me would be the most disgusting thing ever. R-right?”

“What?” you shake your head, “No, it isn’t. Yoongi I would never”, you break the distance between the two of you, reaching out to take his hands into yours.

He steps back, hiding his hands behind his back.

“Don’t, just leave me alone”, he warns.

“Do you not believe me?” you ask, feeling your heart break already.

“You wouldn’t be the first one”, he scoffs, “I’m so s-stupid for falling for you. Why did I even think you would be any different from the other rats?”

You turn your back to him, not wanting him to see the hurt on your face.

“Well, the difference is that I actually tried to be your friend because I genuinely like you, but apparently you are too stubborn to accept that. And maybe I tried to kiss you because I’m having the biggest crush on you ever and I’m just too shy to act on my feelings, but of course I’m just a devious rat in your eyes.”

He blinks in surprise before your name falls from his lips.  

“No it’s okay Yoongi. I get it, you don’t want to let people in, you think you are better off alone and that no one will ever genuinely love you. I get it”, you turn to him to get one last look at him.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, instead he stares at the floor with a clenched jaw.

“I’ll tell Taehyung to help you from now on.”

He nods.

“See you around, good luck at the competition.”

Yoongi says your name, finally looking up only to see you have already closed the door behind you.

“Don’t go please”, he whispers.

#yoongi romance #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts angst #bts fluff #bts romance #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan romance #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: sc

[shunkashuutou]

🔥PROMARE🔥

Get ready, this is going to be a long post.

So starting at the end of last September, Mabs and I fell in love with a movie called “Promare”, and we went to see it in the theater 4 times. This movie actually came out in May of 2019, and we missed it the first time it was in theaters, but it was so popular that theaters started showing it again in the fall. It was made by Studio Trigger, which also made some of my other favorite anime, Kiznaiver and Little Witch Academia. (and BNA which Mabs and I are watching right now!)

So what is Promare about, and was it really worth watching in the theater 4 times?

I feel like these titles of articles about it sum it up pretty well:

Promare is set in a future where some people, referred to as “Burnish”, spontaneously develop fire powers. The Burnish start off as normal humans and have no control over over their powers at first, which leads to them accidentally burning down buildings or injuring other people, so they are feared and shunned by human society. The main character Galo is a member of a firefighting team called Burning Rescue, while the other main character Lio is the head of Mad Burnish, a notorious group of Burnish arsonists.

Here’s a trailer:

It’s colorful, crazy, and over-the-top in true Studio Trigger style, so action-packed that you can’t look away for a single second, and it is one of the most visually amazing movies I have ever seen. (The only thing that is even sort of comparable to this vibrant 2D + 3D animation style would be “Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse”) The color palettes in every single scene of this movie are just incredible. It’s technically a mecha anime with giant fighting robots, but its story deals with themes of discrimination, and it even has a bit of gay romance mixed in, which is a huge step forward for a Japanese movie aimed at a mainstream audience.

All of the characters are wonderful, but especially the main duo Galo and Lio. It’s great to watch as they come to understand one another and work together. They’re both enthusiastic idiots who are the same type of crazy, which to me is both “relationship goals”, as well as the sort of relationship that I am lucky enough to be in.

It also has great voice acting, with the actor who played Sanada Yukimura in the Taiga Drama “SanadaMaru” as the mayor of the town, Kray Foresight (what a name), and the kabuki actor who played Ranbei in the movie “Dokurojo no Shichinin” (which is a super underrated, but another personal favorite ) as Lio.

And the MUSIC. This movie has the most amazing soundtrack, and it’s usage throughout the film is just perfect.

In particular, the scene featuring Lio’s theme “Kakusei” (”Awakening”) includes a volcano and a dragon and is just so INTENSE. In fact, the chorus of this song is not Japanese or English, but entirely made-up words, so that it would be able to convey feeling but not have the words distract viewers from the action.

“Inferno”, the opening track of the movie which is written from Galo’s perspective, is another very memorable song.

Also “Nexus” and “Gallant Ones” and aaa, just so much good music on this soundtrack. (The song lyrics from Lio’s and Galo’s perspectives also tell a bit more of their story) Search “Promare ost” on YouTube to find a full playlist of all of the music if you want to hear more!

===== ===== ===== ===== =====

And now it’s time for the story of how I’ve seen this movie 6 times now, 4 of which were in theaters.

The first time Mabs and I went to see Promare was after school one day. We got bibimbap and zunda daifuku for dinner first, and when we went to the theater, they were giving out these cool postcards!

----- ----- ----- 

The second time was on the first day of Halloween Month, so we got some Halloween donuts to celebrate before watching the movie!

This was right before Promare was going to stop showing in the theaters again, but we really wanted to see it one more time (there is so much going on in this movie, you have to watch it more than once), and the only showing that worked with both of our schedules was one that was marked “応援上映”, which I didn’t think too much about and just assumed that it was an extra showing to promote the movie.

But we knew that something was different when the person sitting next to us started pulling colored lights out of her bag. It turns out that an “ouen jyouei” is special interactive showing of a movie in which fans are encouraged to wave colored lights, yell out their favorite lines, and sing along with the songs. We were definitely not expecting that! It’s interesting too because “ouen jyouei” clearly have their own sort of culture. It wasn’t just like people were yelling out whatever they were thinking, there were set phrases and responses that fans would say at certain times. These responses were probably developed over a long period of lots of fans watching the movie over and over again; I wonder how many times the other people in that theater had seen Promare already.

----- ----- ----- 

It was around this time that Mabs and I found out that there was going to be a cosplay event conveniently close to Osaka Station at the end of October. We were both very in need of a change of pace, so we decided to go and cosplay Galo and Lio! To make things faster, we divided up the work, Mabs sewed the outfits and I made the wigs. (We also decided to share the cosplays because we both like both characters!)

Galo’s wig was a big challenge because I had never made a wig with a foam base before. First I patterned out the spikes with paper.

Then I cut them out of eva foam, assembled them and painted them blue, and glued layers of wig wefts over the top of them. After the glue dried, I trimmed off the excess hair and hairsprayed them into perfect (slightly dangerous) points, and used hot glue to attach the spikes to the wig base. I don’t know how much time this took, but definitely over 30 hours!

Lio’s wig was so much easier. The wig I got worked great as a base, and I just had to trim it, fluff it up, and add a couple different shades of green hair chalk to get the gradient that Lio has going on.

I am really happy with how they turned out!

----- ----- ----- 

After that it was almost time for the cosplay event, but a few days before, Promare came back to theaters, this time in 4D! It was our first time ever seeing a 4D movie and it was an experience! The seats moved all around and shot out blasts of air and mist, and the lights in the theater flashed to go with the movie. Promare with all of its crazy action was absolutely perfect as a 4D movie, and it was so much fun!! They also gave us this super cool postcard to celebrate the 4D release. I think this is probably my favorite piece of official Promare art.

----- ----- ----- 

And then it was time for the cosplay event!

We had such a fun day, and Mabs looked great as Galo! We ate pizza of course, since the characters eat pizza in the movie.

I was really happy with how I looked as Lio! Here’s a selfie, and a bonus ~fashion~ selfie with my favorite sunglasses.

We met a few new cameramen who took photos for us!

I love that Mabs is strong enough to pick me up for photos! This picture turned out cute!

And I had a lot of fun doing photo edits with flames and lots of crazy colors, since that is very Promare!

Before and After🔥

Before... (I liked the pose but not the background)

... After! (I had fun trying to get this one to look like a scene from the movie!

Using the song lyrics as backgrounds

And of course we took some silly offshots as well! These were my favorites!

Since we made the cosplays to share, next time we get a chance to wear them, I’ll be Galo and Mabs will be Lio! I can’t wait to see how we’ll look!

----- ----- ----- 

The movie came out on DVD and Blu-ray at the beginning of February, and Mabs had pre-ordered the special box set! (I wish I had a photo of the box and all of the extra stuff! So cool!) We had a fun time watching it at home and eating pizza! This movie drastically increased our pizza consumption. Particularly margherita pizza since that’s what the characters eat. I had always thought that it looked boring compared to pepperoni or deluxe, but I now understand the wonders of margherita pizza.  (Also look at the cute Galo and Lio cat ear plushies! Mabs got me a set for Christmas and they are adorable!)

----- ----- ----- 

Promare got put back in theaters in 4D AGAIN, on Valentine’s Day!! Of course we thought that sounded like the perfect V-day date idea, so we decided to go see it one more time, even though we already had it on Blu-ray!

So this year I made Mabs Promare-themed chocolates for Valentine’s Day! Yes, these are real, edible chocolates! (I had fun doing a little photoshoot of them before I gave them to her)

I found this wonderful triangular Engrish box at the 100 yen shop and customized it a bit with some shiny pink cellophane.

I made the chocolates by first drawing out the designs I wanted, and cutting up some regular chocolates into the right shapes to use as a base. Then I used colorful chocolate pens to cover the base layer and add the designs!

Before our date, I tried to do Promare-inspired nail polish too.

This is one of my new favorite photos of us! We had such a nice V-day date!

So glad that we got to see Promare AGAIN! And 4D is just the best way to see it! This time we saw it at a different theater than the first time we saw it in 4D, and the movement of the seats was programmed a little differently, which was interesting! This time we could also distinctly smell the rose fragrance when Galo sees Lio for the first time.

Absolutely the perfect Valentine’s Day movie. As Mabs put it, what could be more romantic than overthrowing the government, saving the environment, and setting the entire world on fire together?

And we had pizza for dinner that day, of course!

----- ----- ----- 

Also in February, the Lawson near my school did a special Promare collaboration! It looked so cool, and they had a bunch of posters up all over the inside too!

----- ----- ----- 

And a bit after that, some special Promare merch that had gone out of stock before I even watched Promare the first time got restocked! I needed some new shirts anyway so I couldn’t resist, and Mabs and I placed an order.

I love these plushies so much! They are so cute with their little noodle arms and legs!

----- ----- ----- 

Now that I think about it more, I can’t figure out if we’ve watched Promare 6 times or 7 times. But the most recent time was with strawberry waffles (our food obsession changed from pizza to strawberry waffles after playing Tales of Zestiria, lol)

----- ----- ----- 

Promare will be released on DVD in English in the US on May 19th! I’ve heard that the English dub is really well done, so I can’t wait to see it that way too!

I HIGHLY recommend this movie to anyone and everyone! It’s worth watching for the color palettes alone, but the animation, characters, and music make it one of my all-time favorite movies!

#promare #cosplay #galo thymos #lio fotia #blogging #life in japan #movies #may 2020 #2020

[modestlyabsurd]

Humble Beginnings (Loki x Reader)

Being taller than most, it's a different view. Physically looking down at people varies a bit from doing so in a smug manner. Especially when the mind is now absorbing things in a new way; or at least, it's attempting to.

The people all look different from each other, and yet similar at the same time. Suppose that could be just because it's only an assessment from a few seconds observation of each individual. The loud, overestimulating environment doesn't help either. The propogandic billboards, buses with advertisements obnoxiously splattered across them, and speaking of obnoxious.

These humans and their phones.

It's clear, some of the differences. No skin tone is exactly the same. Hair tends to vary nearly as much, ranging from long to short to naught, from straight to curly, in any color imaginable. Part lines in scalps are fascinating. The curvature of noses is also quite interesting from such a perspective. But one thing seems to remain the same, and that is the amount of hands holding cellphones.

It's unnerving.

To think that the idea of being ruled was so outlandish, all whilst they are unknowingly being ruled already - by something far less benevolent than me.

His thoughts go to that dark place for a split second. He spares himself a smirk, before remembering. That was wrong of him.

He regrets it. And not just because "that's what the doctor said", but genuinely. If Loki could go back in time and pull some strings, he would undo many of his actions. But the doctor also reminds him regularly that he was not himself at that time. That he was mind controlled, which bothers him even more. How weak he must have been to have fallen under such influence.

But that is in the past, and cannot be changed. However he has control over himself now; he can change the present as well as the future.

As much as he damn well hates to admit it, the therapy is working.

Assigned by Stark himself, Loki's therapist has now given him more freedoms on Earth - at the cost of his progress, of course. Apparently he's been doing exceptionally well, since he's now allowed to walk and roam the streets of New York City unsupervised.

(For two hours a day, in a nine block radius, with all six Avengers ready if he were to pull anything suspicious.)

So far he's gone and snuck in to see a film in the movie theater once - a strange animation revolving around talking fish who are prone to misplacing one another - he's browsed the two bookstores within the radius, conjured roses and left them for street performers playing their music, and spent a great deal of time in a particular coffee shop.

... It's been nicer than he thought it would be.

Even now, as men and women who are on important phone calls or simply aren't paying attention carelessly collide into him, he's enjoying himself. The weather is beginning to chill more and more each day, and on this young evening the sky is a cloudy silver. He's been hoping for a storm.

His feet are carrying him down a certain sidewalk. Confident, secure steps. He fiddles with the pocket watch in his warm, faux leather jacket pocket. Embossed in the cover is the letter S, for Stark Industries. Embedded in the gears is a tracking device. Understandable, he admits, running his thumb over the watch. He knows himself better than anyone. Which isn't saying much.

Attaining that elusive balance is the most difficult for Loki. The balance within only him, of self-trust, and the lack of such. Most beings have moral compasses which guide them in the right direction through life. Loki's decided that he has a moral pendulum that swings wherever the wind blows it. A weakness, without question, that will be his downfall one day.

"Unless you become the wind."

He'd argued that with the doctor. Things never go exactly as you plan them. Life's wind tends to blow a bit harder.

"Then you become a rock, a boulder, a shield to your pendulum. Unmovable against the wind."

Easier said than done. But doable nonetheless, he supposed.

His ever-descending thoughts are interrupted by the rich, seductive smell of coffee. He can suddenly feel his heart beating as he sees the caramel brown walls through large storefront windows. The view gets larger and he sees the charming wall artwork of a cappuccino with intricate designs in the cream. He thumbs the pocket watch.

A customer hurries through the door, a warm drink in hand, leaving the coffee shop empty. He clicks the silver watch open. 7:42. It's nearing closing time for the shop.

Hidden behind the neon "open" sign, he steps along the sidewalk, peering in from the darkening cold outside. And there you are.

His heart races - it practically soars.

Wiping down the countertops and tabletops, erasing the daily specials from the chalkboards, sweeping strands of hair out of your face along the way. Focused. Hard-working ... yet elegant. Beautiful.

You're headed toward the back of the shop and when Loki loses sight of you, he swallows down his nerves and strides in.

The charming little entrance bell resurfaces his unexplainable anxiety. It was loud and it got your attention. He had to think fast. But no matter - he had a plan of action ready long before, thanks to a close connection. A friend, perhaps.

Loki's jaw drops briefly as you reappear behind the sales counter, but he smoothly recovers with a Cheshire smile, "Hello Y/N."

You're re-tying the brown apron around your waist when his voice suddenly catches you very off guard. "Hi," you all but sputter.

Oh goodness, you scold yourself. If only you could somehow prepare for Loki's visits in advance. He drops in at the most inconvenient times as far as your appearance goes - you'd like to not have flour all over you, coffee stains on your clothes, and maybe do something more with your hair. But with Loki ... you'll take whatever you can get. Especially since you can't seem to form a complete sentence when he's around anyway.

He has eyes that could take you on an infinite trip throughout the entire universe. And he tends to keep steady eye contact. It's intense. It makes you physically squirm.

Much like now, when you suddenly notice how nice he looks tonight. You wished there was somewhere to divert your attention such as other customers, but it's almost eight. No one wants coffee at this time.

Except for Loki, who has his full attention on you. A dark pink dusting his smiling cheeks.

"What're you doing here?" you found a voice. "It's getting late."

You begin clearing out what's left of the muffins and cookies from the display case directly beside the sales counter, pulling each one out and placing them in a container. Loki watches your movements as well as your face, desperate for a longer look into your eyes.

"Well," he chuckles nervously, "I was just heading back from seeing another film in the cinema - I can't remember the title at the moment ... Something about a lowly peasant who discovers a strange genie and together they must save a princess and her kingdom, while the peasant subsequently wins the princess's heart in the process."

You suppress a smile. "Aladdin?"

"Yes! That's it. I quite enjoyed it, really. Although the genie and his, eh ... sense of humor took a bit of time to tolerate. I think having someone accompanying me to interpret it would've perhaps made it easier."

You've yet to stop cleaning since he came in. This is harder than he expected.

Collecting himself, he steadily asks, "Is the kitchen still open for service?"

You glance at the clock on the wall, with a quintessential coffee cup in the middle of it. "For the next fifteen minutes, yes. What can I get for you?"

Before he can get a still glimpse of you for more than a second, you're heading for the kitchen. The sound of running water indicates that you're washing your hands.

Left to himself, he speaks over the sound toward the kitchen, "Would a couple of cookies and a hot chocolate be too much?"

"Absolutely not," you bubbled back.

A familiar song plays softly throughout the coffee shop as Loki notices. He's heard it before, the man singing with poetic but very, very Midgardian lyrics, accompanied by almost lullaby-like music. And then he hears another voice singing the words - only it's not reverberating through the speakers but humming gently from your mouth.

Loki finds himself watching you once again. You pour thick, steaming hot chocolate into a cup with careful hands, while singing this lovely tune playing. He's mesmerized. Confused, definitely, as to why he's so mesmerized. And why he's been mesmerized ever since he first saw you and learned your name. Why he cares so much about you, why he longs to see you when he's not around. Even if only in small-talking, short lived increments.

"Must be something in the drinks."

"Hm?" you stop singing suddenly.

Loki nearly implodes. Thankfully he's a quick thinker.

"I was just trying to remember - what is this song that's playing?"

"It's called Scar Tissue by The Red Hot Chili Peppers."

He'll remember that.

"Ah. Thank you, I - " he laughs, "the names of certain things have been eluding me as of late. For a moment I thought it could be something in these drinks of yours."

You grin. You grin!

Loki's mouth goes dry. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate after you set it on the counter for him, unable to look away from you.

The taste of chocolate coats his mouth, the smell fills his nose. You glance up at him with that grin - for a split second - before turning away. Gods, he thinks. How beautiful you are.

"It's probably just the time change," he changes the subject. Fills the silence. "I've read that the changing of the seasons can largely affect many aspects of one's everyday life. Like their sleeping patterns, their cravings, their memory. I've read that some can even react to the change in temperature, as well, did you know that?"

You shake your head, wrapping the last two chocolate chip cookies of the night in some wax paper and placing it on the counter.

"Y'know, the nights seem to have gotten darker as well. I could walk you home if you'd like."

You pause involuntarily. How can the mere idea of something make your heart skip ten beats? Shouldn't that kill you?

"No," you declined, "that's okay. I appreciate it."

"Yeah. Anytime."

Loki's watch vibrates in his pocket. He reaches for it, discreetly disabling the alarm that told him it was eight o'clock. Exactly two hours since he left the compound, giving him exactly ten minutes to arrive back before a small army tracks and descends upon him.

A deflated balloon comes to mind.

"Well," he replaces his watch, "at least be sure that you use precaution out there. It's cold, and dark, and the perfect time for monsters to be out."

You nod. A piece of hair falls into your face and Loki has the strong urge to brush it behind your ear. So strong that his fingers twitch.

He picks up his cookie and hot chocolate to fix the problem when he remembers a key part of the transaction - the actual transaction. "Oh! I need to purchase this - "

"Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

He freezes mid-search for some money in his pocket. You're looking him straight in the eye with pure ... purity. He takes you in, drinks you up. Your voice, the apples of your cheeks, your smallness compared to him. Tingles spread throughout his chest and he learns that that is one of the most pleasant sensations he's ever felt.

"That's very kind. In that case ... " he pushes one of the untouched cookies still on the counter toward you.

You look down at his thin, pale hand.

"For you."

A premature scolding lodges in your throat as he's heading out the door. But before he exits into the autumn cold, he turns on his heel and smiles at you. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Loki."

~

tag list: @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki #tom hiddleston #thor #thor odinson #thor ragnarok #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu #modestlyabsurd #hidden references #i repeat

[tenroseforeverandever]

Optimal Distance

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Tentoo x Rose

Tags: lemons; lemons on video chat; mutual self-applied lemons; basically loads of lemons!; and the usual fluff, hurt/comfort, humour stuff

Summary: Rose has been feeling sad, lonely, and a little bit envious, left to endure the dreary London winter, while the Doctor has been posted on assignment in Rio, setting up a new Torchwood branch. But a comment the Doctor makes about a strangely bare desk in his otherwise cluttered study inspires Rose to find a way to bring them closer together, even though they are half a world apart.

Notes: This fic is one of many that had been lingering, stagnating in my collection of unfinished fics, just waiting for inspiration to strike.

Many thanks as always to my wonderful betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. You are absolutely brilliant, and I have no idea what I would do without you. And thanks to @aintfraidanoghosts who is always a voice of inspiration and encouragement (especially if she hears lemons on the menu!) I love you all!

I made quite a few tweaks and edits since they saw it, so as always, any mistakes are mine.I hope you like it!

Also read on AO3 and Teaspoon

OPTIMAL DISTANCE

“Done! You should be getting it any second now!” Rose crowed into her mobile with a rather disproportionate sense of triumph. All she had accomplished was to send the Doctor an email, albeit one with a very important file attached; a file she’d had to navigate his shambolic cataloguing system to find, and that only after she’d excavated his laptop from beneath heaps of books, papers, and crumpled sticky notes on the floor beside his desk.

“Got it!” he cheered. “You are brilliant, you are! A real lifesaver, Rose Tyler! See? My lucky pants, near or far. It’s a good thing you couldn’t come with me, after all. Where would I be now, eh? Without you holding down the fort?”

“Yeah, right,” Rose muttered with a sulky huff, her victorious mood evaporating as she plopped down in the desk chair. She fought against the prickle of tears. She refused to cry about it anymore. It was her own fault she was restricted to paper-pushing for another six weeks. To be specific, she was tasked with reviewing and classifying field reports, a chore that only served to rub in the fact that she wasn’t out in the field, herself, defending the Earth from both alien and earth-born threats. Instead she had to read about it second-hand.

She knew she deserved every bit of punishment she’d received, from her brutal dressing-down from Pete and her subsequent demotion, to her month-long stint inventorying the Small Parts Department (literally the “nuts and bolts” of Torchwood, and ten times as dull as it sounded.) She had been careless and impulsive on a mission, showing off for the sake of a dare, and had nearly gotten herself killed.

The worst part had been the look on the Doctor’s face as he’d rushed into the Torchwood infirmary, not knowing what her condition was, thinking he might have lost her. The guilt she’d felt over worrying him would have been enough (a kazillion times over) to curb any future reckless, thoughtless acts. After everything they had been through, with only a single, human lifetime each, pledged to be spent together, she had nearly thrown it all away in one rash moment.

As it was, she had been lucky to have come away with only deep laser burns to her left shoulder.

She and the Doctor had clung to each other all that night, desperately making love until they were too exhausted to move.

That had been weeks ago now, and Rose was chafing at her restrictions, especially since Pete seemed to be intentionally sending the Doctor to conferences in the most wonderful, exotic locations around the world, places Rose was dying to explore with him. But Pete resolutely refused to allow her to join him.

On this current trip, the Doctor was helping establish a new Torchwood base in Rio de Janeiro, addressing the fledgling team on the importance of employing diplomacy and mediation in First Contact situations. Rio, for God’s sake! And here she was, stuck in the middle of the damp, chilly London winter. She huffed again over the phone.

“Would it help if I said I wasn’t having fun?” the Doctor asked over the upbeat sounds of Samba and boisterous voices in the background. She could just picture the scantily clad, feather-adorned (female) dancers.

“Yes…” Rose picked at the worn piping on the leather arm of the desk chair.

“Oh…”

“Sure doesn’t sound like anyone’s ready to listen to your First Contact presentation. Don’t know what the rush was…”

“Weeell, lunch is almost over, and we’ll be heading right back in. Then, I’ll be cracking the whip! But, blimey, the Brazilians know how to party!  As you can probably hear, they’d arranged for some entertainment over lunch: live band, dancers, the lot! Didn’t want to seem churlish.”

She’d been right about the dancers, then… “Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m just feelin’ sorry for myself. I should be gettin’ to bed, yeah. Loads of field reports to review, tomorrow. You have fun.”

“Right… weeell…” Rose could picture him scrubbing the back of his head with his right hand. “Thanks again. And for the record, I do wish you were here, love. It’s just not the same without you.”

“It’s a bit lonely here too.” She looked around his study, filled with reminders of his presence: it was cluttered with books and papers; an assortment of swivel-chairs, beanbags, and exercise balls; and seemingly arbitrary writing surfaces at various heights and orientations. The traditional desk, where she was currently sat, was essentially an afterthought, a horizontal surface suitable for a computer or a place to deposit bits and bobs, books, and papers. Except it was completely clear of clutter and serving no purpose. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, but she couldn’t imagine the Doctor ever using a desk like that.

“We should redecorate your study when you get home, Doctor,” she mused.

“What? Why?”

“Well, for one, this desk is taking up a lot of valuable space. We really should get rid of it. It’s nice. I bet we could sell–”

“No!” he cut her off. “I love that desk!” There was an overtone of panic in his voice.

“But you don’t use it for… well… for anything.”

“I’d rather hoped to use it someday… erm…” His voice trailed off, but quickly returned with his classic exuberance. “It’s nice and sturdy, Rose, and just the right height.”

“What the hell for? The right height for what?” Honestly, she was afraid to ask, but it was just lovely to talk to him and listen to him prattle on about nonsensical things. She missed this when he was abroad.

“Weeeell…” he stage-whispered into the phone, enthusiastic, but clearly not wanting anyone else to hear, “the height is exactly the optimal distance to take advantage of the length of your legs…”

“Wha? My legs…?”

“Blimey, Rose! This is not a good time. I’m not able to control this stupid body the way I… erm… weeell…” His tone became clipped, irritable. “I need to be focussed for this presentation.”

“Oh, never mind.” Though Rose’s curiosity had been piqued by his cryptic comments and the urgency in his voice, she knew he was on a tight schedule. “You better go give that presentation. Go on, then. Love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you, too.”

It was only once she was in her bed, half asleep, with her thoughts restless and drifting, that she realized exactly what the Doctor wanted that desk for… She was suddenly wide awake, the whispers of a plan forming in her mind.

 --ooOoo--

Rose had spent the better part of the night ordering the things she needed to set her plan in motion. The online shop guaranteed next-day delivery and she hoped everything would be there when she arrived home from work. If she managed to slip away for the afternoon (without Pete finding out) as she’d planned, she would be able to message the Doctor just before his lunch… perfect!

She was relieved to have been able to escape the confines of her office with no one noticing, except Donna, the administrative assistant who, being every bit as brilliant as her Prime Universe counterpart, noticed everything. But she had just winked at Rose and signalled with a swipe of her thumb and pointer finger that her lips were sealed.

Rose’s excitement grew when she arrived home to find several large packages waiting for her in the hallway by the door of her flat, kindly left there by the landlady. Rose beamed, her heart pounding as she bustled into the flat, hurrying to get everything set in motion before she chickened out. She had never done anything quite as bold as this before – at least in terms of trying to seduce someone – and she rather hoped the Doctor would be… receptive. Considering he had seemingly procured the desk for a very specific (erotic) purpose, she figured he would be.

An hour later, she was turning up the heating against the chill of the wintery air. Her new outfit was not exactly intended to keep her warm. To be honest, she didn’t think she’d ever worn anything so barely-there (and glittery) before. She flushed, looking at herself in the mirror. It was a bit generous calling it an outfit at all. It was really just strategically placed jewelry.

It was a Samba ensemble, made of thin strips of pink, yellow, and clear crystals. The bra was a halter design, with clusters of gems dripping in simple floral patterns from her throat to just above her breasts. A single, large sparkling clear crystal shone between her breasts, supporting a band of smaller clear crystals that curved below them. Her nipples were (only just) covered with bright pink and yellow crystal flowers. She turned around to look at herself from the back. Her bum was essentially bare, the lower part of her outfit, a thong, impossibly skimpier than the bra and crafted of more of the glittery crystals. Matching wrist and shin cuffs adorned her limbs. Not for the first time that afternoon, she thanked the stars for her Torchwood training and active lifestyle for keeping her fit and trim.

After applying her most alluring make-up, she was ready for the final piece of the puzzle. With shaking hands, she positioned the headdress over her hair. It was heavy, heavier than she’d expected, encrusted with crystals over her forehead and in a band around her head. A pink and yellow fountain of ridiculous, great, feathery plumes erupted from the top.

Rose laughed at her image in the mirror. Ridiculous didn’t begin to cover it: it was completely daft. But the Doctor would love it… or so she hoped.

She made her way to his study where she had set up cameras to take photos of herself using a remote control. Her first pose had her facing the camera, one stilettoed foot hitched up on the desk, and her opposite hand touching her sex through the thin fabric of her bejewelled knickers. She made a point of allowing her tongue to poke out at the corner of her smile. That always drove the Doctor mental.

For her next pose she leaned over the desk, her bare bum inviting the Doctor to take her from behind, as she looked suggestively over her shoulder at the camera. She elected to forgo the third pose she had planned. She’d had to stop her headdress from toppling off several times during the second pose and was feeling rather hot and bothered… and not in a sexy way.

Regardless of the headdress mishaps, she was able to select an image she liked from both sets of photos and upload them to her mobile.

So, you like Samba, do ya? she texted the Doctor, along with the two photos. Meet me for lunch… video chat. I’ll show you my moves.  

If she’d worked out the timing right, he should be receiving the messages about ten minutes before he usually stopped for lunch. She intended to make sure there would only ever be one Samba dancer in his future. Her.

She giggled nervously. She really hoped he would take the bait.

She didn’t have to wait long. Her phone vibrated on the desk. She laughed at the Doctor’s message: Blimey! Don’t move! I’ll be there in five minutes. Meeting adjourned!

He’d taken the bait all right – hook, line, and sinker!

Now for the really challenging part: video phone sex. She’d never done anything like that before. She hoped she could pull it off.

 Rose scrambled to set up her mobile on the apparatus she’d purchased, just for this purpose, at the same time as she’d bought her Samba costume. She took a few quick test shots of herself, perched on the edge of the desk with her leg hitched up the way it had been for the first of the photos she had sent the Doctor a few minutes earlier. It took a few rushed and panicked adjustments, but she eventually got the angles just right to ensure the Doctor would get an eyeful!

She was just situating herself on the desk with her leg up again when her phone pinged with the Doctor’s incoming call on video chat. Her tummy was in knots with equal parts anticipation and mortification. Her fingers shaking, she depressed the button on the remote control she’d programmed to her phone and accepted his call.

The Doctor’s eager, bewildered face filled the entire screen, his eyebrows rising into his hairline at the image before him. “Fuuuuuuck…”

He was swearing, a sure sign she’d gotten his attention in the best possible way. There was only one time he ever swore (well, mostly) and that was during sex. Rose smirked as he reflexively licked his lips, boosting her confidence even more. Her voice still trembled, though. “Like what you see, Doctor?”

His hand ruffled his hair. (Rose was jealous of that hand.) “Weeell, I mean… yes! Of course, I do! Blimey! What’s not to love?” Two hands ran through his hair this time.

“B-better… better than the Samba dancers from lunchtime yesterday?” Rose pressed her lips together, and dropped her leg from it’s provocative pose, and she slid off the desk, suddenly uncertain again and feeling vulnerable, both craving and dreading his response.

The dazed shock on his face softened, full of sincerity and love. “The only person I’ll ever want to dance with, Rose Tyler, is you.”

“I feel so… stupid… doing this.”

“NO! No, no, no, no! This is perfect. Brilliant!”

“I don’t know what I’m doin’…”

For several anxious moments, they watched each other in silence. Then, suddenly, the Doctor spoke, his voice husky and low: “Oh, Rose, I wish I could touch you. I wish I could lean you over that desk, take you from behind, and fuck you senseless.”

Rose released a tense breath. He seemed to be taking the lead, putting that unstoppable gob of his to good use.

“But first, first I’d love to have you like this, facing me. I’d spread your legs and–”

“Like this?” Now that she was relaxing, Rose found herself quite eager to play her part. Holding her headdress in place, she hopped up on the edge of the desk again, leaning back on her hands, her legs splayed.

“Yes, just like that! Beautiful! You’re fucking gorgeous!”

Rose bit her lip, her breath hitching as a flood of warmth pooled low in her abdomen. Blimey, she loved when he talked dirty.

“I’d kneel down before you, goddess that you are, and pull aside those skimpy knickers and bury my face between your thighs.”

“Like this?” she repeated, drawing the soaking strip of fabric to one side, exposing her dripping core to the Doctor.

“Oh, you’re so wet, Rose. I just want to taste you.”

“Guuuuuuuhhh… yeah! Love your mouth on me.”  

“Oh, yes! I’d dip my tongue inside you, savour the taste of you (you taste so good, Rose!), and lick you all the way up to your clit. Fuck, you’re perfect,” he blurted as Rose used her finger to simulate the actions he described.

She sighed at the sensation, closing her eyes, wishing it was his tongue lapping along her aching slit, twirling around her clit.

“Oh Rose, my Rose… I’d stroke that lovely clit of yours with my tongue, up and around, up and around…”

Rose groaned out her pleasure, her fingers dancing over her damp sex. “God, Doctor, I love it when you fuck me with your tongue. Please,” she begged, looking him in the eyes, “I want to see you. I want to touch you too. I want my hands on your gorgeous, thick cock.”

“Fuuuuck, Rose! Wait! Just give me a moment.” His face disappeared from the phone. “Keep going!” his voice called from the background. “I’m still here, licking you, sucking you.” There was a loud clattering noise, and the image on the screen spun around. And then Doctor appeared again, from further away wearing only an oxford. His cock, long and hard, bobbed up against the fabric, leaving a wet stain on the front of the shirt. “There. I’ve propped my mobile up. Can you see me, love?”

“Yeah. ‘S good. So good!”

“Are you still touching yourself?”

“Yeah.” Rose’s eyes rolled back as she pressed down on her clit.

“So I see,” he moaned. “Oh, love…”

“I want you inside me, Doctor. I want to feel you fill me.”

Rose watched with a hooded gaze as he wrapped his hand around his cock. “Oh, I want that too. I want to feel you so hot and tight around me. Nothing feels better than that.” His hand stroked down, then up, with a twist at the top. “You’re so soft and wet…” down again, “and so fucking…” up and twist, “tight!”

At the same time, Rose plunged two fingers inside herself, finding that oh-so sensitive sweet spot, as she continued to work her clit with her thumb. She moved her fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of his stroking hand, the jewels around her breasts chafing her nipples with delicious friction as she moved. She added a third finger, stretching herself wide. “Oh, you’re so thick and hard… I love how you fill me. You feel so good!”

“Fuck, Rose… so do you. You look so fucking sexy.” His hand began to stroke faster. Rose watched, mesmerized, as the dark, throbbing tip of his cock disappeared and reappeared from the circle of his fist. “Are you getting close?” His voice was tight, strained.

Rose continued to work herself, thighs trembling, slick, wet sounds accompanying her lusty groans. “So close…” she whimpered, feeling the familiar heat burning in her core, the pressure building. Her head lolled back… and suddenly she yelped as her headdress tumbled to the floor behind the desk. “Oh no! No!” Her hand stopped moving as despair welled up inside her.

“Rose! Don’t stop. Keep going.”

She wailed, “It’s no use.”

“You’re so beautiful, my precious girl. Oh, let me touch you more. Let me feel how warm and wet you are… I want to fuck you forever and never stop.”

Rose watched him on the small screen of her phone looking so wonderfully earnest, his cock in his hand, still hard, glistening with pre-come. He was bloody hot, and he was hers. The shock of losing her headdress was forgotten in a fresh rush of desire, and another flood of arousal, warm and slick, coated her fingers. “Touch me, Doctor,” she breathed, her thumb renewing its caresses over her clit.

“Oh, yes love… I want to run my fingers over your body; run my hands up your thighs and deep inside you. I love the sounds you make when I stroke you…”

“Please,” she whimpered, arching into the pressure of her thumb on her responsive skin.

“Let me fill you again…”

“Yes!” She watched, in awe, as his hand slowly resumed its motions – up, down, twist – over his long, hard member, and her fingers began their pumping motions again, curling and rubbing against her sweet spot rebuilding her sense of urgency with every stroke.

They were soon lost in their passion, both keening and groaning in a haze of lust and need. The fire within Rose burned hot again, deep in her sex, as she rolled her body over her fingers. The Doctor’s hand increased its speed once more. He was getting close, she could tell, he looked so wonderful and dishevelled, and his cock pulsed with every stroke of his hand. “Doctor!” she cried out. “I’m… I’m… gonna…”

“Hnnnngghhh…” he groaned. “Come for me. Let me see you come!”

Rose’s body vibrated with the need for release, her hand frantically pumping, her thumb pressing down, circling her clit, the heat and pressure building within her… and then, the Doctor shouted. Mesmerized, she watched as his seed spurted in ribbons from him, coating the front of his shirt, drizzling over his hand. The look of ecstasy on his face was enough to bring her over too. Her sex throbbed, grasping around her pumping fingers as she arched off the desk, the burning pressure in her core suddenly exploding outward, engulfing her.

 --ooOoo--

“Well, I need to get out of this ridiculous get-up,” Rose chuckled, pushing herself up to a sitting position. She had made her way back to the bedroom and lain down on the bed, while the Doctor lay on the bed in his hotel room. They had stayed that way for many wonderful minutes, gazing into each other’s eyes and talking quietly as they came down from the high of their orgasms.

The Doctor pouted. “And I suppose I need to get back to my meeting. They’ll all have finished their lunches.”

“Oh my God! You didn’t get to eat! Sorry. I guess I should have timed this better…”

“What? NO! This was perfect! A brilliant surprise. I feel perfectly satisfied.” He winked and flashed her an impudent grin. “I just can’t wait to take you over that desk in person, and peel that ‘ridiculous get-up’ off you, myself!”

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be there?” Rose bit her lip, clutching her mobile and regarding the Doctor’s image with imploring eyes. Training new teams of Torchwood personnel and operatives could be a time-consuming business and was an open-ended job. She and the Doctor could potentially be separated for several more weeks or…

“Just a few more days.”

“Really? You’re not jus’ sayin’ that?”

“Rose, (mostly) Time Lord here! If there’s one thing I know about, it’s time. Have you ever known me to misjudge…?”

Rose gave him a pointed look.

“Nah, don’t answer that. But honestly, love, we’ve only just started getting this lot familiarized with all the tech, today, but they seem to be a quick study, and a few of their key people will be returning to London with us for a tour and more in-depth, hands-on experience. Then Pete’s going to be relocating some of our more capable people to Rio for a few months to get things up and running properly. So, at most, another week.”

“A week?”

“At most… I promise. Now, as much as I would prefer to spend the day here with you, I have to act the responsible adult (complete rubbish, that!) and get back to my meeting. I’ll see you later, love.”

“Not if I see you first.” She blew him a kiss and offered him a little wave of her fingers before disconnecting their call.

 --ooOoo--

Five days later, she stood, poised sexily (she hoped) in the doorway of the Doctor’s study, wearing the Samba outfit, minus the ridiculous headdress (it would just get in the way), and watching as the Doctor pushed his way through the door of their flat. Her heart thrummed at the sight of him.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called out cheekily, making her laugh out loud.

“Right here… erm… Sugarbear,” she droned, her voice as sultry as she could make it through her giggles.

“Sugarbear? Really, Rose,” the Doctor closed the door behind him, “of all the names you could…” As he turned and took a step into the flat, his gaze locked onto her, eyes darkening as they roved over her bejewelled body. “Blimey… now this, this is a proper welcome home!” He dropped his bags and coat, leaving them behind, forgotten, as he strode toward her across the room, loosening his belt along the way.

Rose shuddered at the sight. Bloody hell, he was fucking gorgeous. And he was here. Home. With her. Her Doctor.

“You. Inside. Now,” he commanded, his hands settling over the bare skin of her waist, guiding her backwards into his study with firm pressure. Rose’s core ached in anticipation, a yearning heat coursing through her. His lips crashed against hers as they staggered further into the room, the kiss equal parts demanding and desperate, and Rose was sure she had never felt so desired, so loved.

When her bum hit the desk, she gasped, and suddenly, all the emotion she had been suppressing over the last few months surged to the surface: guilt and remorse, loneliness and jealousy, all whirling together in a maelstrom of unfettered passion, love, and vulnerability brought on by the Doctor’s assertive touch. The tears she had been holding back gushed over her cheeks.

“Rose? Love?” The Doctor broke the kiss, looking down at her with concerned eyes. “What’s wrong? Is this not all right? Was I too… weeell, enthusiastic?”

“No, oh my God, no,” she wept. “It’s… it’s perfect… Better than. I jus’… I jus’… I missed you… I didn’t realize jus’ how much…”.

In one swift movement, he swept his hands behind her legs and lifted her to perch on the edge of the desk. Then, spreading her thighs, he stepped between them and tipped her chin up for another marvelous snog, still passionate, but this time it was a sweet and tender, unhurried sort of passion. Rose melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him against her body and breathing in the comfort of his scent. They eventually drew away from the kiss with gentle pecks and nibbles.

They pressed their foreheads together, and panting softly, Rose spoke into the space between them, “Sorry, I’ve gone and ruined all this,” she gestured to the desk.

“Nah, don’t be silly.” He dabbed the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Besides, I have a bit of news too. Might as well get it over with.” He sighed dramatically and pulled slightly away from her to fish in his jacket pocket. He pulled out an official-looking Torchwood envelope that he tossed down on the desk beside her.

“W’at’s this?”

“My new marching orders, I’m afraid. I leave in two days.”

“Two days,” she sobbed. “But you jus’ got home and–”.

Taking a deep steadying breath, she dragged a hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face. “God, I sound so needy and selfish… but I just missed you.”

“And I suppose, the fact that I was in Rio,” he smirked at her, his left eyebrow arched, “had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh, that just made me miss you even more, but I admit, I was a bit… envious.” She chuckled, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But you know that stuff doesn’t really matter, yeah, all the travelling? Never did. Just that we’re together. That’s what’s important.”

“Oh, I know,” he reassured her with a kiss on the forehead. “And you know I feel the same... don’t you?”

She nodded, placing her palm over his single, human heart. “Yeah, ‘course I do.” 

“And that’s why, Rose Tyler,” his deadpan expression transformed into a brilliant smile, “I’m happy to announce that your assignment is in that envelope too. This time, you’re coming with me.” He beamed at her, waggling his eyebrows and looking very pleased with himself.

She gawped. “But… wait. What?”

“That is, if you think you can be ready to go on such short notice.”

“You wanker!” She swatted his shoulder. “Of course, I’ll be ready!”

He giggled. “But, really, I mean… if it’s too much trouble, I could always just go back to Rio on my own, I suppose.”

There was a long silence as Rose processed what he had said. When she finally found her voice, the words tumbled from her mouth: “Shut up! No way! Rio? RIO?”

“Yu-p!” He grinned. “We’re the experts Pete’s going to send over for a couple of months to make sure everything’s up and running properly. He said he only wants to send the best, and weeeell… I mean look at us. The choice is obvious.”

“I don’t believe it. There must be a catch.”

“No-pe!” He popped his “p” again. “He wants to make sure the Brazilians get everything exactly right. And the best part is, we’ll be there for Carnival. It’s just a few weeks off.”

“What? Carnival? Really?”

“Yes-siree, Rose Tyler! You can even wear this outfit again, in an official capacity this time, of course, complete with headdress. And ooooh, we’ll bring the baby TARDIS along, too. She’ll love a change of scenery!”

“I still don’t believe Pete would just… Nah, you must ‘ave said somethin’ to ‘im, yeah? Not that I’m complainin’. It’s just he’s been so… lecture-y lately.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s been a right misery. And now this sudden change of heart…?”

“Weeell, I admit,” he pulled on his right ear, “I was all ready to go in today, guns-a-blazing, to try to convince him that enough was enough, but believe it or not, he had already made up his mind. He gave me the news during my debriefing this afternoon. By the way, you’re to meet with him tomorrow–”

“Urrrghh, that’ll be fun…”

“–to go over… erm some… stipulations, but essentially, it’s all set. Said he thought your diplomatic skills would be hugely beneficial over there. Personally,” he flashed her a cheeky grin, “I think he was just getting sick of your constant moaning.”

“Oi, Mister!” She feigned offence. “Is that so? Watch out! I’ll give you constant moaning!” She grabbed his tie and dragged him toward her for another impassioned kiss, then reached between them to fondle him through the fabric of his trousers. As she sucked and nibbled along his jawline, tracing her fingers up and down his growing length, a strangled sound tore from his throat.

She smirked. “Now, there’s the moaning…”

“Stop!” He grabbed her hand, his eyes blazing into hers, and she quivered in response, the hot rush of renewed arousal pooling between her legs. “No more teasing. Brilliant as the video-chat sex was, I’ve had enough of foreplay and imagining over the last few days to last me a lifetime. I am going to take you right here, right now, against this desk, and fuck you so hard you see stars.” He scrabbled at his trousers and boxers, pushing them down over his slim hips. Looking utterly debauched, with his suit jacket, oxford, and tie dishevelled but still in place, he took his thick, throbbing member in hand and gave it a few hard pumps. “You ready?”

“Am I ready? Fuck! I’ve been ready for days. Could hardly think of anything else.” She licked her lips as she took in the sight of his impressive length. “My fingers are no substitute for that.”

With an impatient growl, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off the desk. Then he spun her around and pressed in behind her, rutting against her bum. “This all right?”

“God, yes!” she sputtered, the ache of desire burgeoning inside her as he encouraged her to lean forward over the desk, applying a steady pressure to her back, until her breasts pressed against the surface, making the jewels of her outfit rasp over her taught nipples.

With a nudge from his foot, he prompted her to spread her legs, opening her to him. “Oh, yes,” he groaned, “the optimal distance, indeed!” Rose shuddered as his slender finger stroked over the sodden strip of fabric covering her sex and she arched into the contact with wanton abandon.

No further invitation required, he yanked the fabric aside and plunged into her welcoming depths.

She saw not only the stars he’d promised: entire constellations burst before her eyes.

#tentoo x rose #ficandchips #lemons #hurt/comfort #humour #fluff #tenroseforeverandever's fic