#I really tried with the British accents to the best of my ability as someone not from there

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi, I really love your posts, they are so well-structured and researched and I agree with a lot of your takes. I was wondering firstly if you had any headcanons about people’s accents outside of standard RP english (which there was an over-representation of in the movies)? i found a really good post on this by @lotstradamus. I also wondered if there are any characters you headcanon as PoC that are not explicitly stated like Blaise, Angelina, Kingsley, Dean, the Patil twins and Cho? Also, what are your favourite fic recs for HP (Tomarry, Gen or Harry/Others)? I am trying to expand my fic list. Thanks :)

Hi, 👋

Thank you so much!

Okay, so I found @lotstradamus's post you mentioned here and she explains UK and Ireland accents way better than I, a non-brit whose only time standing on British soil was in the London airport for a connection flight, ever could. Additionally, I'm shit at recognizing accents from hearing even when these are accents I know well. That being said, I have been thinking a lot about where in the UK & Ireland characters came from so I will use that (& the power of Google) to infer about the accents, since they tend to be regional.

I would love to hear about my attempt from any actual Brits who can help me with this. (Also, I'm not going to be mentioning the movie accents, as yes, there definitely aren't enough accents there, but also, I don't really know how to tell the difference between many British accents from hearing alone, so...) I also tried to add video/recording examples for how the accents would sound like for all the non-brits like me for whom the accent name would say literally nothing. Without further ado:

HP characters accents

Let's start with the characters we know for sure where they are from:

We know Harry is from Surry, so his accent should be southern but from an upper-middle-class area near London, so he should be close-ish to RP. (Tom Felton was born in 1980 in Surrey, so he's probably close to Harry's accent)

Sirius grew up in Grimmauld Place in London so as rebellious as he wants to be he still sounds like a posh-as-hell Londoner. (Example)

The Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, and Cedric Diggory all grew up in Ottery St Catchpole which is in Devon, so they all have a West Country accent.

(the children at least, the parents might have different accents. Like, Molly I think sounds a bit posher since the Prewetts seem at least upper-middle-class).

Albus Dumbledore was born in Mould-on-the-Wold before his family moved to Godric's Hallow after his father's arrest. As Mould-on-the-Wold might be based on Stow-on-the-Wold, I'd take it that it's located around the same area in Gloucestershire. As such his accent would probably be a West country accent for the most part.

Abeforth's accent is similarly West Country, except add some random bits of highland slang he might've picked up from all his years at Hogsmeade and without any smoothening over.

Google has informed me Hagrid's dialect written in the books is a West Country dialect, which is the same as the Weasleys, Diggorys, Lovegoods, and Dumbledores (there are a lot of wizards in West Country)

(West Country Example 1, West Country Example 2, West Country Example 3) - think movie Hagrid for all of them.

James Potter and the entire Potter family (and the Abbotts as well, actually, so Hannah too) are from Godric's Hallow which is somewhere in the West Country, but, James is also from a rich family, so he likely sounds closer to RP than the Weasleys. So his accent should be a general southern posh that isn't quite perfect RP but closer to it than to West Country accent. (Example)

Tom Riddle is one I have a specific headcanon about. Like, he grew up in an underfunded orphanage that was most likely in East End London — young Tommy had a Cockney accent and he spent his first month at Hogwarts learning to mimic all the posh purebloods around him. So Tom probably sounds like the perfect dictionary version of RP as he is actively hiding his accent. (Cockney example, another one, RP example)

Snape, probably does something similar. He grew up in slums in Cokeworth which is somewhere in the Midlands, so I think he is actively hiding his accent too so he could fit in with his posh pureblood peers in Slytherin better.

Lily probably has a similar accent to Snape, just, probably like a softer version of it, idk, that's what I'm thinking.

Now the midlands is an area that encompasses a lot of different accents, so I wanted to narrow it down a bit more. I found this post by @potions-and-potters that placed Cokeworth in the black country, and it sounds right considering the industrial vibe of the town and the descriptions we get. So, Lily and Snape had variations of the black country accent. The Snape we meet in the book speaks the same dictionary RP as Voldemort, probably (Example 1, Example 2 of Lily's and Snape's accents)

Draco and the Malfoy family are from Wiltshire which is also in the West Country, but because you know the Malfoys sound posh, it would be closer to RP (not too different from James' accent probably), but with a bit of a drawl since in the books they are described often as "drawling".

McGonagall is the most Scottish character there is so she has to have a Scottish accent. On Pottermore it's written she grew up in the Highlands of Scotland:

She grew up in the Highlands of Scotland

(from Pottermore)

So she has a Highlands accent (Example 1, Example 2). I find this sort of Scottish accent fits McGonagall quite well since it's very clear and deliberate.

Seamus Finnigan has to be Irish, as he is mentioned to be a fan of the Quidditch Team Kenmare Kestrels, he likely is from the area, which is around south Ireland. (Example)

Stan Shunpike is written as speaking in a Cockney dialect according to Google.

Dean Thomas is a fan of the West Ham United Football Club which is located in London, so Dean is likely from London and has a London accent. (Went for a South London accent).

We know Justing Flich-Fletchy had his name down for Eton, as @lotstradamus mentioned, so he's also a super posh RP-ish speaker. (More examples)

Tonks uses "wotcher" a lot which is common in North London dialects, so I'm going to go with a North London accent for her. (Example)

Now, for characters I don't know where they are from it's much harder to guess accents because I'm not British and can't get accent "vibes", unfortunately, so I'm only going based on locations and gut feelings.

I can say Hermione always sounds very RP and kinda posh in my head, I imagine books Hermione sounding pretty much like Emma Watson. As we know she comes from a well-to-do middle-class family, it even makes some sense. (Example)

(I also think it's funny to have Harry and Hermione both sounding all RP and Ron speaking more similar to movie Hagrid)

I kinda want to give Remus an accent that isn't RP, just because I feel like it and there are so many posh speakers on this list already and his mom is said to be Welsh:

On an investigative trip into a dense Welsh forest in which a particularly vicious Boggart was supposed to be lurking, Lyall ran across his future wife. Hope Howell, a beautiful Muggle girl who worked in an insurance office in Cardiff

(from Pottermore)

I decided I wanted Remus to be Welsh, so I gave him a South Welsh accent in my head. (Example)

Since there's no one on this list from the north, I'd like Neville to keep Matthew Lewis' Yorkshire accent. (Example)

Trelawney is a cornish name and JKR chose it on purpose:

I love Cornish surnames, and had never used one until the third book in the series, so that is how Professor Trelawney got her family name.

(from Pottermore)

So, I'll take it to mean Trelawney is from Cornwell and has a Cornish accent. (Examples)

I have no clue about Peter.

If any Brits are reading this, how did I do?

As for your other questions: not really.

I mean, Harry is pretty detailed with character descriptions (especially for the main ones, including himself and Hermione who are often headcanoned as having darker skin but are described as white in the books on multiple occasions) so I never really felt there was headcanon space there for the characters I cared for. Personally, I try to keep my headcanons as canon compliant as I can so if someone has a description, I won't come up with a different one.

As for fics, I don't really do fic recs, so I'm sorry I can't help you with that.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Jessie Matthews (Evergreen, First a Girl, It's Love Again, Gangway)—known as “the dancing divinity”, jessie matthews was a british musical star of stage and screen in the 20s and 30s - if you're an enjoyer of lavish art deco musicals of the likes of fred and ginger, busby berkeley etc, definitely give her movies a try they are delightful! (tantalizingly there were multiple attempts made to pair her and fred together that never came to fruition - gaumont-british tried to get fred for evergreen and mgm wanted jessie for a damsel in distress.) and for the women in tuxedos enjoyers, her 1935 movie first a girl was the first english language remake of viktor und viktoria, famously later remade with julie andrews.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Jessie Matthews:

Star of British 1930s stage and screen, she introduced classic songs by Noel Coward and Rogers and Hart to English audiences, and then played perky heroines, but today it’s her genderswapping role in First A Girl that probably gets most attention.

[magewolf-the-artist]

Yeah so I decided to update Susan's ref sheet because oh my god it's so fucking ugly-

But yeah, I'm much more satisfied with this one because I've developed my style for drawing these fuckers a lot better and the pose radiates more personality.

Old ref: https://www.tumblr.com/magewolf-the-artist/743345425139040256/on-this-episode-of-walten-files-brainrot-heyyyyyy?source=share

Here's her bio with a couple add-ons:

Apparently she's British (Her accent is still a mystery to me but I've seen a couple people say this so ehhhh). So my headcanon is that her family immigrated to the US when she was four, so while she does have an accent, she doesn't really say any slang. Occasionally she might call someone a twit (affectionate) or a twat (derogatory), but that's about it.

At some point during her fun little maze adventure, the neck cables that held up the animatronic head snapped due to the constant pressure of Susan's broken ass neck forcing her head to loll to the side. While at the facility she found that she can use metal ties to hold the cables upright. She has to tighten them constantly though or else her vision will be forced into portrait mode

Ashley fixed the cable while she, Kevin, and Hilary were there and Susan is forever grateful to her

She probably accidently breaks it again through something stupid like bumping her head against the door frame or something and boy oh boy was she PISSED

On that topic, she tries her best to upkeep her and everyone else's bodies but there's only so much she can do with limited tools and slightly worse motor skills (imagine doing a task that requires very precise movements through winter gloves and you'll pretty much get the idea)

She refuses to repair Bon though and tells him to figure it out himself.

She's become way more snappy, short tempered, and easily frustrated after her death. Trauma, baby!

Susan kinda acts as a shoulder to vent to whenever anyone needs to talk. She can’t really offer much in response or comfort since A, she’s the type to push things away and compartmentalize, and B… well, she can’t exactly promise everything’s gonna be okay, now can she? Still, sometimes it’s nice to just talk

Some days though she just kinda… shuts down emotionally. Just kinda lays on the floor and can’t find any motivation to get up or do anything. Thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, staring blankly into space

Charles usually stays with her during these episodes and depending on the day, he either just sits with her quietly or rambles about random shit like he did when they were alive

Her sleep schedule was super fucked up when they all came to the facility because she was used to being up and around at night. It's gotten better but she still sometimes wakes up buttfuck early and has come to appreciate the serenity of the nights (RETCONNED)

Probably the most casual about her death, as opposed to Rosemary's crying and Charles desperately trying to change the subject

She walks with a very distinctive shuffle, something she picked up from her fun little maze adventure because the weird shuffle walk helped lessen the pain she put herself through and conserved energy. It used to be a lot more pronounced but it's faded slightly overtime

Usually hangs out with Charles

Is constantly exasperated by Charles' antics

To pass the time she either plays card games with Charles or organizes the tools in the maintenance closet

She tried to talk to Rosemary when they were first brought to the K-9 facility but only got silence in return. She's kinda just given up now and mostly leaves her alone

Is the most familiar with Bon's abilities and didn't even bother trying to escape the facility because she knew it was futile

Helps coach everyone but Rocket on how to move

When helping Ashley figure out to move she probably made an off-handed comment like, "if you think that's hard, imagine having to learn how to do this while being alive" and only realized Ashley had no context for that when she gave her a very confused and worried look

Hates Bon's guts and is usually annoyed/angry with him

She also hates Felix's guts, but everyone does so it's not anything special.

[abeltownshipslittlebitch]

So true, the 5/Simon dynamic is just *chef's kiss*!

Can I ask what your 5's relationship with Simon was like pre-betrayl? What kind of things did they do together and we're they just friends or was there maybe something there that could have been, in a different life?

Also (because I have to sneak in a question about my other fav ship), what was your 5's relationship like with Peter pre-reveal? And did your 5 see it coming or was she completely blindsided?

Sorry if you've answered/talked about this before. Feel free to just link the posts if you have. 💛

I really haven’t talked much about my specific five so thanks for asking! It’s kind of long so I have a read more.

Pre-Betray my Five, Callista, and Simon were besties. They loved going on runs together and Callista cared about Simon quite a bit and vice versa. Callista didn’t have any attraction to Simon romantically or vice versa during early seasons, although their friendship was strong in a way that made them almost seem like platonic soulmates. During the time Callista couldn’t speak, she taught him sign language (she’s American but she knows British sign language) although it didn’t help much because I say that Simon would always grab her wrist while they ran together. It made running a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but it became a habit and it kept Simon from having to worry about Callista being the little crow she was from running off to collect a new trinket and nearly giving him a heart attack when he turns around to see her gone.

They hung out a lot, but usually with some OCs I made just for my world that were people Callista cared about. Callista loved reading as an escape so she babbled to Simon about books a lot, and she is a pretty good cook so cue her dragging Simon into the kitchen to help her with a recipe. And since she is American and lived in the southern region she cooked those kinds of foods which Simon always was skeptical about but tried anyway because she looked so happy to be reminded of home again.

Speaking of her being American, when she regained the ability to talk, it became pretty common for the two of them to make fun of each other’s accent. They teased each other a lot but it was always in good fun.

Basically in those early seasons my Five and Simon were best friends who loved each other platonically but much more than most friends did.

In the seasons with Peter pre-reveal, Callista did feel drawn to him and she trusted him way quicker than she normally would. It confused her, honestly. But it felt nice to be close to someone again in that platonic way, although this time there were romantic notes in there that was the start of an a extremely slow burn… because neither of them actually believe they have feelings for each other until much later. Peter didn’t realize he had romantic feelings for Callista until near the end S7 and Callista didn’t realize she had feelings for him until the gap between S8 and 9, and neither of them even admit it to each other until about 1/3 way through S9, and things are complicated because of other failing relationships they were both in but not sure if they should let them go.

Back to pre-reveal though, Callista has smart and stupid moments. She’s an amazing runner and is quick in coming up with plans and spotting things but she always did not see the reveal coming for two reasons:

1. She can be really fucking stupid and oblivious when it comes to these things.

2. After Simon “died” in S3 finale she refused to believe there was a chance he might be alive because if she gave herself that hope and then never saw him again and he was actually dead it would destroy her. (She was so devastated by Simon’s “death” in S3 she actually stopped talking and only spoke via sign language, which she hadn’t done since she regained her ability to speak in early S2. She was mute during the entire time skip between S3 and 4 and only spoke again because her sister came to Abel and she was so angry because she and her younger sister have major beef that she started speaking just to curse her out.)

Back to the point, there were obvious signs, but Callista was oblivious and in denial so she never saw it coming. Peter even did the same habit of grabbing her wrist while on runs and she would just awkwardly pull away and tell him only one person had that privilege (but Peter still did it out of habit and Callista eventually just let him). Callista tries not to think too much about it.

When Peter admits that he’s Simon, Callista’s brain short-circuited and she nearly had to be dragged to safety from the zombies around them because she just froze. There was an argument later because Callista wasn’t sure how to process all of this, but it ended in tears with Callista’s much shorter frame hugging Peter right enough to hurt as she sobbed “I missed you,” over and over again.

I hope that answered your question! And thank you for the ask about my Five!

[clouded-dreams2]

The Introduction | Come With Me

a/n - I haven’t made a series before, I hope this turns out well. At this moment I really have no idea where this is going, though I have an outline of what I want next chapter to be. Feedback is greatly appreciated. 

Warnings - Cursing, Implied death, Blood, I’m sorry if I have missed anything else!  

Characters - Doctor Strange, Reader, Casper (OC) 

Dreams, that's all they were. Making your world aware of the possibilities outside of the life you live now. The ability to move awareness from a life you had to live, to a reality you would want to live. The idea that everyone was bound to a body by the soul, mind, and heart was completely wrong. That’s what (y/n) wanted the world to see the ideals of what could be, not what is.

“Shit…” you mumbled under your breath; you were going to be late for a conference. The day that would make or break your career. The day you find out if you have what it takes to be in the big leagues, the one you’ve dreamed about since you were a child. You stumbled out of bed, quickly taking a shower, getting dressed, brushing your teeth, grabbing your laptop. You could wait to eat, your main focus was the conference. You couldn’t be a second late or they would skip you and laugh at you for the rest of your days. You ran down blocks to get to the conference, you didn’t have your license. You would care less as long as it was close by. The conference was only two miles, you could make it. You had to make it.

“H-Hello!” You tried to breathe out when you walked into the now empty place. 

“Frank, where is everything? Much less, everyone?” You asked your friend. He was the reason you were able to even get into the conference. 

“How do you know my name? Who are you? What do you mean?” His tone was laced with genuine curiosity. You knew this place like the back of your hand, you would always come to pick up Frank for lunch. You would often run ideas with him, just needing someone to shoot ideas off of.

“We have lunch every week at 1:30. We became best friends in High School, I sat next to you at lunch when I noticed no one was and we started talking. What the hell do you mean ‘How do you know me?” You were even more confused at the man who had claimed to not have known you.

“Come with us.” Two deeper voices spoke as men in uniform who had badges approached you. You were supposed to be here, right?

You can’t recall how you got here, your memory was blank. You were being questioned by a man who you couldn’t place, a man you thought you knew but hadn’t seen before. You would remember some sort of feature if you really knew the man.

“We have no record of you.. Ever. Now tell me? Who are you?” He had an accent, British. He wasn't someone you knew, then why was he so familiar? 

“I live in an apartment on 12th and 5th. My name is (y/n) (y/l/n). You don’t have a record of a person in front of you?” You asked. Another man in a suit came in; he seemed familiar too, but you couldn’t place him. Two men, one British, blue-eyed, with short chestnut brown hair, who wasn’t being paid enough. While the other was American, hazel eyed, with short brown hair and definitely a billionaire. 

“How about this, you free my client, and we don’t have to go to court.” The American spoke, he was definitely a sarcastic character. He reminded you of your father, you weren’t sure why. Your father was nothing like him, he wasn’t a lawyer, and he wasn’t in your life enough for you to make a judgment like that.

“You are truly a dumbass of a lawyer. We aren’t going to let go of a person who has no record of existing… Anywhere.” The British one spoke, you looked at both men who were now arguing with each other. Attempting to flaunt their dominance over the situation. You tried to get up, running off while they were busy with themselves. The first step forward…

You fell on your face awake in your house in New York City. You start laughing, then crying, then both simultaneously. You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you were happy to be home, it was all too vivid as always. You passed it off as a dream, because that's just what they were, dreams. You wanted to have a career in quantum physics or time travel, both of which you believed in. Strong beliefs, not enough money, and not enough recommendations threw those dreams out the window. You were working a nine to five at a restaurant just to pay half-rent and eat. Your roommate knocked on the door.

“(y/n), You alright? I heard a thud and wanted to check up on you.” He was a nice guy, Frank would’ve loved him. Casper, your roommate had dark shaggy hair, he was at least six foot, and a lawyer.

“Yeah, I’m good. I had a weird dream, again. Something about lawyers, sadly the best lawyer wasn't there.” You spoke out. that explained the lawyer part of your dream, it felt nice to have that accounted for at least. Getting up noticing the blood that dripped from your nose. You wanted to curse out but knew that would get the attention of your roommate, you didn’t want to worry him. He already had enough on his plate, you also liked him but knew he would never reciprocate the feelings, maybe he did, and you just couldn’t think that he would like someone like you. Out of their mind with thousands of thoughts fluttering around in a mind that has no true sense of the world around it, you wanted to make sense of the world.. Well ask the important questions, like what was the process of why the ocean exists on Earth a planet in space? There was always a way to something.

“Honey, you could have told me that you had a bloody nose.” Casper walked over to the bathroom where you were dealing with said bloody nose. You and Casper had a weird history, you would flirt but nothing would happen, even if you were drunk. You labeled each other platonic soulmates in this reality, but lovers in another. He thought you were a genius. Smart as hell, the way you spoke when you talked about your dreams. You were passionate and articulate in the way that if you were able to get in front of a crowd, he was sure you could have people thinking about what you believed. He was your number one supporter, your best friend. He tried to help with taking care of you, but resorted to cleaning the blood that would stain the floor.

“Shit!” You angrily mumbled looking at your phone, 8:56 am on a Tuesday. You had to get to work, you threw away the toilet paper that was covered in blood. Closed the bathroom door and got ready for work. You had hung up your work clothes in the bathroom the night before after you took them out of the wash.

***

You had got to work in the nick of time, you went to clock in. You had noticed that everyone else had clocked in already. You typically had no sense of time, going off of the sun was the best way to guess. As you clocked in you noticed a slight spark in the doorway of the bathroom, you wanted to investigate it. Something in you told you not to, to ignore it and go to work but when it grew you were already set in discovering what the hell it was. The restaurant was not opened quite yet, so you didn’t have to worry about serving people, or multiple people being there to wonder either. You had made it to the glowing yellow portal, watching awestruck, maybe this was just another dream.

“This isn’t a hospital.” A man stumbled out holding his side. He was wearing a blue leather tunic of some sort, crimson stained. He was bleeding that was visible, and as though it was a movie you looked at the man. You knew him, he was the same man from your dream. Your brain was running, and you couldn’t catch it, you had no idea what the hell was going on all of a sudden. You wanted to know but you stood there confused. A bleeding man just came out of a portal that was yellow and sparky, not to mention he looked like a man who was late for a birthday party, or some comic con character. You had proof that the impossible exists, well only to yourself.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Doctor Stephen Strange, you must be (y/n).” The Doctor spoke. How the hell did he know your name? How the hell did this man appear? Where the fuck did he come from?

“How the hell do you know me?” 

“Did you study medicine?” 

“A little, like very little. Enough to tell that you're bleeding from some sort of cut. That quite honestly, I can’t place from what.” You had an interest in medicine and couldn't help the idea of things that could have happened other places, in other realities. Who the hell does he think he is?

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[hopefulobjectmiracle]

A quick analysis of the puppy scene in 3x15, because my OTP is perfect.

This is honestly just a whole lot of gushing and flailing, tbh. Because Kurt and Blaine and their relationship are wonderful and I love them so, so much. So much so that I can write paragraphs on a scene that is barely one minute long. 

This somehow ended up being much longer than I intended, oops. Hope you enjoy it :)

We start off this scene with Blaine alone at his locker, presumably putting away his belongings from his last class, and you can still see Kurt’s ‘Gay-diddy-gay-gay-gay’ class council election poster on the inside of Blaine’s locker, even months after Kurt lost the election. But Blaine still keeps it up, because he loves Kurt, and if he had it his way, Kurt would win everything. Awww. He appears to be deep in thought, and when Kurt hides behind Blaine’s locker, speaking in the world’s most adorably terrible British accent, it startles Blaine for a second.

And man, does that make me sad. This is a kid that has been bullied, undoubtedly shoved into lockers and pushed here and there just like Kurt was. He hears an unfamiliar voice and immediately flinches back in fear, expecting the worst. 

But it isn’t the worst - it’s the best. Because it’s Kurt, the person Blaine loves more than anything, hiding behind the locker, and it’s Kurt speaking in that cute-ass accent holding a stuffed puppy in front of his face. 

(Side note - I once read that Chris Colfer improvised the dialogue and accent of this scene, as well as coming up with the name for the puppy, which totally checks out since Chris is a huge Anglophile.)

And as soon as Blaine recognizes his boyfriend, his face breaks out into the sunniest smile, and he does his signature “Kurt-made-me-laugh” move, the blushy head-duck (see here for reference). 

Kurt also looks similarly delighted to see Blaine, because Blaine is lovely and Kurt loves him so, so much, and because he’s also excited to show Blaine the gift he got him and help Blaine out with his problems. Kurt really loves Blaine, y’all. He looks so damn proud of the stuffed animal he got for him and equally proud of his own ability to make Blaine laugh with his clever puns. 

Kurt goes on to explain that Finn won the stuffed puppy while out at the amusement park for Senior Skip Day, along with thirteen others for Rachel, and as soon as he says this, Blaine nods along as if to say - oh, of course, that Rachel - because Blaine is considerate as hell and knows his friends very well. And in honest-to-god Kurt fashion, bb stole the puppy from his brother, because Kurt is the definition of Be Gay, Do Crime, and he also recognizes that Rachel does not need 14 different stuffed animals. 

He pouts a little right then, telling Blaine that he wanted to give it to him so that Blaine would have something, since Kurt wasn’t able to convince Blaine to go with them on the field trip. I wonder how that conversation went. 

Also, pouty Kurt is fucking adorable. Protect him at all costs.

Blaine is melancholy again, telling Kurt that he would have just brought the mood down for the group. And when Blaine says this? Kurt stops beating around the bush and gets straight to the point. 

Sweetly stroking the stuffed puppy, Kurt tells Blaine that he understands him. That he gets that family problems are hard, because they’re hard for him too. He uses himself as an example to try and get his point across to Blaine more effectively, and mentions that he and Finn disagree on nearly everything, but at the end of the day, they love one another and are always there for one another despite their differences. 

I’m also getting so many brotherly Furt feelings from Kurt referring to Finn as “the big lug” and talking about how much he loves him. Ugh. I also cry at the line where Kurt tells Blaine that he only has one brother and shouldn’t give up on that, given what happens to Finn. I wish we’d gotten more of that relationship in canon before Cory’s untimely passing, because they clearly had so much love for one another, both on-screen and off.

Anyway, Kurt sees the love he has with his brother and wants Blaine to be able to experience the same thing, because he loves Blaine so, so much and he thinks that Blaine deserves everything great in this world. He also brings back the cute-ass accent, and upon seeing Blaine look upset, bumps Margaret Thatcher Dog against Blaine’s cheek to get him to smile again - which Blaine absolutely does; his face is bright and sunny again because of Kurt’s silliness. Awww. 

Kurt tells Blaine never to give up, and Blaine indignantly responds that Cooper is the one who is leaving for a big audition. Kurt pauses, and tells Blaine that Cooper hasn’t actually left him yet. He says that Cooper is waiting in the auditorium, hoping that Blaine will come and talk to him and make things right. This line very strongly implies that Kurt and Cooper coordinated this, and that Kurt made an effort of talking to Cooper to try and arrange a meeting with Blaine - because in a matter of mere days, Kurt was able to glean how important their relationship was to Blaine and wanted to do everything he could to fix it. Give him all the boyfriend awards, folks.

I’m kidding. Please don’t start the Better Boyfriend Olympics again, lol.

Blaine huffs out that talking doesn’t actually work with Cooper, and that he’s tried it to no avail. And Kurt just nods knowingly, as if he was aware that Blaine would say that. And though it isn’t explicitly mentioned, I bet he did know. He then goes on to say that perhaps talking isn’t the best answer for Blaine. Maybe there’s something else, a better method of communicating his feelings that would work more for Blaine. 

Okay. You know what this reminds me of? Flash back a year, to Silly Love Songs. This is (perhaps unintentionally) a direct callback to 2x12. Back when Blaine was still crushing on someone who is not Kurt, he said this to the Warblers about his idea to serenade Jeremiah. 

Blaine (2011): I'm not really good at talking about my feelings. I'm much better at singing them.

And here are Kurt’s words, from more than a year later. 

Kurt (2012): Maybe talking is not the answer. Maybe you need to show him how you really feel in the best, most honest way you know how. 

Can I just stop right here and squeal a little bit? Because Kurt knows his boyfriend so, so well. He remembers the things that Blaine tells him, even things from over a year ago. He holds onto this key piece of information about Blaine, because Blaine is important to him and the things he tells Kurt are worth remembering. And here, in this scene, he puts his memory to good use to try and remind Blaine of his most effective and heartfelt form of communication so that he can help Blaine mend fences with his brother. 

GIVE HIM THE BOYFRIEND AWARDS, FOLKS!

Kurt is so, supportive of Blaine and just wants the best for him, and it just boggles my mind when people claim that Kurt didn’t love Blaine as much as Blaine loved him, because from even short simple scenes like this one, anyone can tell that it isn’t true. 

After listening to Kurt, Blaine stops, and for the first time, genuinely considers it. Prior to this, all of Cooper’s attempts at talking couldn’t get through to him. Blaine still felt the jealousy and resentment from all those years growing up. But after hearing Kurt’s advice, he puts that aside and realizes that some things, like family, are more important, and so he makes that decision to go see his brother and try and express his feelings in a different way. 

Blaine turns to go meet Cooper, and Kurt watches him go, looking so damn proud of his boyfriend and so, so hopeful...

Y’all know what happens next. Blaine and Cooper, a pair of brothers, sing a breakup song. Yet somehow, it works. Singing manages to communicate all of those emotions that were suppressed before, and opens the doors for real conversation between the two of them. They do successfully patch things up, with Cooper finally recognizing Blaine’s talent and Blaine trying to support Cooper in future endeavors. They are on a path to a close relationship, which is all both of them had ever really wanted in the first place. 

And if not for Kurt’s advice, this may not have happened. Y’all heard that right - Kurt Hummel helped Blaine patch things up with a member of his family because he knew how important it was to Blaine, and he knew how badly Blaine wanted this even if Blaine didn’t let it show. From all the bits and pieces of information we’ve gathered over the years about Blaine’s family, they don’t appear to be all that close, which is why it’s even more important for Blaine that he is able to reconcile with his brother.

(For more of my thoughts on Blaine’s family, feel free to check out this analysis of mine. Yeah, this is a shameless self promo. Deal with it.)

So...what was the point of this analysis? I’m not quite sure. I suppose I just had a lot of feelings about Blaine, Klaine, family, and the way that Kurt shows love. Like I’ve said millions of times, just because Kurt is more subtle in the way that he shows love to Blaine, doesn’t mean that it’s any less powerful. Scenes like this, in which he handpicks Blaine’s own words and uses them to push Blaine towards something he was too afraid to admit he really wanted? Kurt helping reconcile Blaine with his family? This is Klaine at its best, and scenes like this are why I will always, always ship this couple. 

Kurt and Blaine are incredible, y’all. 

Peace. 

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 1)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

Chapter 1: too wise to trust

A/N: y/n is bisexual but not paired with a women. the characters have been aged up. the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like it as much is i do. if you want to be tagged them pls tell me. also comments are appreciated as they motivate me to write more and i love to know how you guys feel about the story.  

warning: cursing, mention of miscarriage, mention of sex, mention of cat calling, angst. fluff? 

word count: 1.4k

important: character thoughts are bold and italic, flashback is in italic

masterlist   series masterlist   chapter 2

She picked up her makeup bag from her vanity and started walking towards her empty suitcase which was wide open on her bed. “What time is your flight?” Haz asked while walking into their bedroom. “I think it’s at 6:30 in the evening but the car will be here to pick me up at 4”, she replied whilst folding her clothes.

“So we have at least an hour to us”; he pulled her by the waist and started kissing her neck. She tried pushing his chest away but failed miserably. “Haz, I’m not in the mood, please stop”

“Fine. But you have been saying that for months now”, he was frustrated.

She ignored his words like always. 

He was right. They hadn’t had sex for at least five months now and it was starting to gain on Harrison. Their marriage, which had been ‘couple goals’ according to the internet, was now slowly falling apart. It was clear that Y/N was falling out of love but she couldn’t find grounds for it. She couldn’t reason it by making him the villain because he was a good man who, in theory, had done nothing wrong. Though, to her, it felt like he had. Maybe he didn’t love her enough or maybe all had gone astray when they had lost their baby last year.

“Will Tom be there?” his words felt like venom, entering her bloodstream.

She placed her hand on her forehead, trying to indicate that she did not want to have this conversation or the inevitable fight, again.

“Of course he will be there, he is my co-star. You should get off the internet, it’s feeding you poison”, she said in an almost nonchalant way. Trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his name. His name, which did not mean anything to her. Tom was her colleague whom the internet liked to ship her with, but he was just a friend. Haz found it hard to believe this because the internet told him so. Their relationship was so far gone that he had no other way of knowing what was going on in her life. 

His wife was so far gone. She was as distant as the sun is from the moon. The distance left coldness between them. The kind of cold that you feel when you pass a stranger. She was a stranger to him and the only reason he could think of was that she and Tom were having an affair. This was not true, but the ache in his soul found comfort in painting Tom as the villain. 

“I don’t believe you”, Haz spat out.

She threw her heels inside the suitcase in anger. “What do you not believe? That Tom is my co-star? Is that what you don’t believe?” her voice was louder than before.

“I don’t trust him.” Haz matched her voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Trust? Her? How can I trust a stranger?

It was his turn to ignore her.

She zipped her bag, put on her shoes, and left the room. “Fuck you”, she cried before slamming their apartment door and leaving for London.

--

Y/N had first met Tom at a cast and crew dinner in New York, six months ago. Greta, the director, had invited both her and Haz but he had decided to opt-out of the ‘fancy’ dinner. Y/N was excited to meet her new co-stars and mark the starting of a new project, a new phase in her life.

It was cold in New York, she figured she shouldn’t wear a dress. She put on black stockings underneath blue bell-bottoms to keep her warm. She wore a dark grey American Eagles t-shirt and over that, a tan leather trench coat. She liked commuting via subway because she believed ‘nobody gives two shits about who is sitting next to them on the train’; and a town car was much slower, especially when it had been snowing. She stuffed her heels in her purse and wore her commuting shoes.

Tribeca to West Village was a good ten minutes train. Her travel was mostly uninterrupted except for the catcalls which felt like the usual to a native. Just before ringing Greta’s doorbell, she got out of her Converse and wore her heels.

Y/N entered a packed house. Almost everyone was there and she was late. But someone was to arrive even later than her. She examined the room, everyone was mingling with each other. She didn’t know anybody there except Noah Baumbach from the time she auditioned for ‘marriage story’. She didn’t get the part but still loved the movie. She realized Tom was missing.  

Greta pulled her into a conversation about when the production of the movie would start or something like that. She wasn’t really paying attention. She was so eager to meet Tom that her eyes couldn’t stop roaming around the room, trying to find him, and just when she thought he wouldn’t show up, he did. 

Everybody’s head turned towards him when he entered the living room. It was as if every person in the room wanted him, including her. His dark brown hair, falling into place like a domino, had snowflakes in them.

“Excuse me”, Greta gave a small smile to Y/N and walked over to Tom. She greeted him and politely touched his back. “Now that everyone is here we should take the party to the dining hall”, she said in a loud and cheerful tone.

Following Greta, everyone started moving towards the dining hall. Tom sat right across Y/N on the grand dining table. “Hi, I’m Tom”, he introduced himself in his thick British accent. “And he’s English”, Y/N said, adding to her list of things she found captivating about Tom.  

“And?” Tom gave her a confused look.

Shit. I said it out loud.

“I-I mean hi, I’m Y/N”, she tried to cover up her mistake.

His dark brown eyes on her, made her thoughts run wild. It was wrong enough to feel right. The dinner was served and small groups of conversations were taking place. Somehow the whole table took on the topic of bisexuality. Y/N felt obligated to take part in the conversation, being part of the community herself. 

“I think bisexuality is a gateway to being gay”, Tom said to the whole table.

“You’re being bi-phobic, Tom”, Y/N called him out. All eyes were on her now.

“And how do you know that?” Tom asked Y/N.

“Because I am bisexual, and any decent human being would know that”

“Are you calling me indecent?”

“No, I’m calling you bi-phobic”

“But aren’t you married to a guy?”

“That doesn’t change my sexual orientation, and you’re being bi-phobic. Again.” There was silence, everyone was listening carefully. 

“Okay, so please explain to me how I’m being bi-phobic?”

“Just the fact that you believe bisexuality is a gateway to being gay and me being married to a guy, means my bisexual card has been revoked, portray your biphobia”

“I am a little confused”, Tom said while reaching for his wine glass. 

“Someone who is bisexual is attracted to both men as well as women. It isn’t a gateway to being gay, it is a legit sexuality of its own”, 

“Hmm, I suppose I stand corrected. I’m sorry if I offended you or anyone. I will go home, do the research and try to be more open-minded”, said Tom, smiling.

“Good”, Y/N said, feeling accomplished and impressed by Tom’s ability to accept his mistake.

Haz would have never accepted that he was wrong.

Y/N felt wonderstruck. Blushing all the way home. She hoped Tom knew how enchanting it was for her to meet him. She wondered if someone was waiting for him at home, like someone was waiting for her. She wasn’t quite sure whether Haz was waiting for her to reach home or not.

She reached home to an empty bed. Not knowing what to make of it, she got ready to sleep. 2 AM and Haz was still not home. She didn’t try to reach him because she knew all phone calls would go straight to voice message and all messages would go unreplied. She closed her eyes, feeling indifferent towards Haz. Even in her sleep, her mind echoed Tom’s name. She was unaware of the treacherous road ahead of her. And that gave her comfort. His thought gave her comfort.

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 2)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 3.7K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol).

Chapter Note: Thanks for your kind words! So nice to feel the love in this community. Feel free to ask and hit me up if you want to be on the tag list, have questions, suggestions, etc. /Best!

Tag List: mysearchforgratification lonelydance 

Other Parts: See Masterlist

You were trying to count eight hours ahead but with each passing margarita, the math was becoming harder and harder to do. Eventually you just opened the app on your phone and let it do it for you; it was almost 11 a.m back in England. If you went to the coat-check immediately you could call your old lab-partner Laura on your way home and get a much needed update on the project you'd both been working on before your American exchange program had started. Constantly being eight hours behind was rough on keeping in touch, and right now you missed everything back home - even the stupid yeast cells from your project that had kept dying on you and Laura.

You were just about to message Laura and tell her that she should be expecting a call from you shortly, when you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat loudly above you. You slowly looked up from your phone only to see the snarky blonde mystery man from earlier towering above you, clutching two drinks.

"Hi," he smiled as you looked up at him.

"Mystery man," you nodded in greeting.

He sent you what seemed to be his signature charming smile and you realised that his right incisor was just a little bit crooked. It was annoyingly cute.

"Mystery girl," he winked at you, "mind if I sit?" he said as he made himself comfortable on the cushion next to you.

"Uh, I guess not?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"I brought you another double Margarita," he handed you one of the drinks he was holding, "I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" he nodded towards the lit phone in your hand.

"No, uh, not at all. I was just typing up an email for work," you tossed your phone aside.

The blonde mystery man sent you a sceptical look, "who types up emails for work after they've had a million drinks? Not to mention; at 2.30 in the morning?"

"What can I say except welcome to my story: the life and death of a temporally challenged European in America."

Mystery man laughed at your words, "yeah, you're far away from home, aren't you?"

"Oh what gave it away, bruh?" you said slowly, doing your best to fake a Californian dialect.

Mystery man almost choked on his drink, "You're British?" he asked with a smile while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Nice to finally see his human side.

"English," you nodded.

"Definitely far away from home then," mystery man nodded, "you here on holiday?"

"I'm actually here for a couple of months in a mandatory exchange program as part of my PhD."

"PhD, huh?" He looked impressed, "damn, I could tell you were smart."

"Well," you said quietly, turning your eyes away from his burning gaze.

He sensed your discomfort at his statement and continued, "What about your friends over there? Why aren't you out dancing with them?" He pointed towards Miranda and her two friends on the dance floor.

You were just about to tell him about your situation with the three girls when you realised something, "hey; how'd you know they're my friends? Been keeping an eye on me, have you?" you laughed at his suddenly stiff smile.

"Well," he ran a hand through his blonde hair while licking his lips slowly, clearly trying to come up with a clever answer, "I couldn't just let you leave before you've found out where you know me from, now could I? Have you given it more thought?"

"No, I actually haven't thought about you at all," you teased him, earning yourself a sincere laugh from the guy, "but... that being said; I'm no closer to guessing it than I was a few hours ago. Although I am sure that I've seen both you and your friend before. So if you have any ideas, I'd be much obliged."

"Hey; I don't know," he shrugged, "I'm just trying to get you to admit to your obvious pick-up line."

"That was not a pick-up line!" you chuckled, "I was genuinely wondering where I've seen you before."

"That's what they all say," mystery man rolled his eyes with a playful smile on his lips, "you're lucky it worked, you know."

"Too bad it didn't work on your friend though," you clicked your tongue, mocking him before continuing in a whisper, "it was intended for him."

He clutched his heart in mock offence, "Ah!" he exclaimed as if he'd been shot, "sadly, that's what they all say too..."

"Aw, you poor man," you smiled and took a sip of the drink he had handed you.

"So why aren't you out dancing with your friends? They seem..." he hesitated as he looked them over, "...fun?" he tried.

"I think you just answered your own question," you laughed.

"Good point," he mumbled.

"Why aren't you out dancing with your friend?" you nodded towards his friend Diggs who was casually moving on the dance floor next to a swarm of girls who all seemed to want his attention.

"Well, I've been patiently waiting for the only interesting woman in here to go dance so I could casually bump in to her on the dance floor. But apparently her ass is glued to this booth. If I was out grinding on Diggs, I wouldn't be able to talk to her - Which would really be a shame as she is without a doubt the prettiest woman in the room," mystery man smiled.

You made a gagging noise at his horrible attempt at flirting.

"Over the top?" He laughed.

"Way over the top!" You joined in, "remember; I'm British. We like it low-key."

"What? You want me to invite you out for tea and scones instead?" he said in a horrible cockney accent.

"It wouldn't hurt your chances," you laughed, "but I'm good with the margarita for now."

"So you don't want to go out with me?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Nope."

"So the way you were staring at me and Diggs earlier really wasn't an attempt to flirt?"

"No," you laughed at him. He looked almost shocked.

Mystery man squinted his eyes as if seizing you up, "You're completely unfazed, aren't you?" He said.

"About what?"

"Well about me being charming as fuck of course," he said with a chuckle.

"Meh," you shrugged. It wasn't true. You were completely mesmerised by him. But he was acting too cocky for you to not give him a challenge.

"Meh?" He repeated.

"You're bloody cute - I'll give you that. But you're a silver tongue, and well... let's be honest; you need the rejection."

"Are you challenging me?" He raised an eyebrow at you, "it feels like you're challenging me..."

"Hey, no need to feel down by the rejection. I'm doing this for you. I have your best interest of heart," you laughed, touching your heart with the palm of your hand.

He looked you over for a couple of seconds, "I cannot figure you out."

"Well that's a good thing, isn't it? Keeps things interesting."

"Yeah, you definitely strike me as a girl who keeps things interesting... What's your name?"

"You can call me -" your eyes landed on the drink in front of you and you remembered the bartender’s words from earlier, "- Margarita Girl. As that is probably how you're going to remember me after tonight," you smiled.

"How about breaking-my-heart-girl?" He smirked.

"Ah see; you're doing it again," you pointed your finger at him and he laughed at you, "you're way over the top. Keep it low-key for Margarita Girl, damn," you laughed.

"Okay, so we're really not doing names?" His smile grew wide. He was probably already thinking about how hot it'd be to fuck a girl's brain out without even having to bother to learn her name first. Textbook fuck boy.

"Let's keep it interesting," you reciprocated his smile with a small shrug, "what can I call you?"

"You can call me whatever the fuck you want," he said cockily, probably realising that by asking for his name, you'd agreed to spend more time with him.

"Okay, Margarita girl and Mystery Man it is."

"Sounds like a superhero duo," he smiled.

"Interesting. What are our powers?"

"Well, in line with our names: you're intoxicating as fuck luring in all the bad guys, and I have the ability to turn invisible."

"Only creeps want to have a superpower where they can vanish on command," you laughed at him.

He was about to retort when he was interrupted by a male voice coming from beside you, "Hey Rafa!"

You'd been so fixated on the blonde man in front of you that you hadn't even seen Diggs approach your booth with a swarm of girls at his heel. So his name is Rafa? Odd, you thought to yourself but had enough decency to pretend that you hadn't heard.

"What's up," Mystery man - or Rafa apparently - responded to his friend.

"The bar is about to close. I'm thinking about grabbing a cab home. You coming?"

Rafa looked at you briefly before answering, "I think I'm good for now, bro."

"Alright, see you tomorrow then," Diggs padded Rafa on the shoulder before heading towards the door.

Rafa turned his attention back on you and stared at you with a small smile playing on his lips, "So bar's closing down in a bit," he said, "maybe we can squeeze in another drink somewhere else?"

"Yeah, no," you shook your head, "I think I'm about to head home. I have a long walk ahead of me. If you're fast, you can still catch your friend and join him in that taxi though."

Rafa looked at you, "do you live far away from here?"

"I live over on the corner of Mayflower and Lafayette," you responded, "it's roughly a 30-minute walk or something."

"Yeah, I know where it is - I live close by," he eyed you carefully, "if you want to, we could walk together?"

"Taxi doesn't sound too enticing?"

"Meh, I'd much rather take the walk," he shrugged

"Alright then," you nodded, "I guess I wouldn't mind the company."

"Aw," Rafa said, "I think that's the sweetest thing you've said to me all night!"

No more than ten minutes later, you were both wearing your coats and were headed in the direction of the townhouse you were sharing with another British girl, Samantha, who you'd met online a couple of weeks back.

"So how do you find California?" Rafa asked you after a couple of minutes of walking.

"I like it. It's different, that's for sure," you sighed, "but I think it's quite great here."

"Different how? Are you from a small town or something?"

"I'm from a small town called London. I don't know if you've heard of it?" you teased him.

"Hey, don't get smart with me," he laughed, "But in all honesty; apart from the obvious, how is L.A. so different from London?

"You know... London's population is almost twice as big as that of L.A., yet somehow everything's just bigger over here."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I could imagine. I remember the first time I was in L.A... It completely blew me away."

"You mean you're not from here?"

He shook his head, "I'm from up north. I moved here a few years back to focus on my career."

"Yeah? What do you do?" You asked curiously.

"Hey; what's the point of not having names if you know all about my career?"

"That's not fair. You already know that I'm a nerd," you winked up at him, pronouncing the last word as he would've.

He smiled down at you, "yeah sorry for calling your field of work nerdy earlier," he laughed awkwardly.

"I work in a lab. It is nerdy to be honest," you laughed, "no need to worry."

"It's just... I don't think I've ever pictured anybody looking like you to... you know.... actually be a nerd," he chuckled.

"We come in all shapes and sizes," you winked up at him and noticed how his smile grew wider, "as I'm sure people in your line of work do."

"Smooth u-turn you just did there," he laughed at you, "Well," he drawled, "if you absolutely must know, I moved to L.A. to focus on my music."

"You're a musician?" You looked up at him. Of course he was. Probably one of those douchy John Mayer-types who brought their guitar everywhere and always had to play Wonderwall at every. single. party. "Is that where I know you from? Am I currently being walked home by a well-renowned musician that girls from all over the world would be dying to be serenaded by?" You laughed.

"I assure you that millions of girls would kill to be in your position right now - but I highly doubt that it's because of the music," he chuckled, "I don't even have an album out."

"What kind of music do you do?"

"Rap mostly," he said proudly.

You looked him over; you would not have taken him for a rapper. "Oh, that's... cool," you said quietly.

He looked at you with a bemused smile, "what? You don't like rap music?"

"I hate it..." you whispered with a chuckle.

"WHAT?" He bellowed while looking at you with huge eyes, "are you insane?"

"Right after accordion-music, it is the worst genre there possibly could be! It's probably what they play for you when you enter the gates of hell."

"I've finally done it," Rafa looked shocked, "I've gone and found the only person in L.A. that doesn't like rap. You're probably the type of person who'd murder me in my sleep!"

It made you laugh loudly, "well how else would I know what kind of music they play you down there." He chuckled at your comment and you continued, "sorry. It's just not really my style."

Rafa clutched his chest, "I'm offended! How can it not be?"

"I didn't grow up with rap music," you laughed, "Name one famous British rapper!"

"Uh, easy!" He started counting on his fingers, "Skepta, Dizzee Rascal, Giggs, Doctor Green, The Streets, Stormzy - should I just keep going?"

"Okay, okay you've made your point. Apparently, I'm uncultured."

"So, what do your uncultured ears like then? Adele? Ed Sheeran? One Direction? Should I throw in some Spice girls?" He joked.

You smacked his arm lightly, earning yourself a low chuckle from him, "oi, the fact that I'm English doesn't mean that I only listen to the pits of British music."

"Sorry," he continued in a chuckle, "but I am genuinely interested."

"Well I'm not going to tell you now. You'll just mock me!"

"If you don't tell me, I'll keep assuming the worst."

"That's not my problem," you laughed at him.

He blinked twice, his charming smile still in place, "You are easily one of the most interesting women I've ever had the company of. You keep surprising me."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you smiled up at him.

"Oh, you definitely should."

You kept walking side-by-side for a couple of minutes, talking about the differences between life in L.A. and life in London. Just like when you had observed him at the bar, he talked with much vigourosity, hands flying everywhere as he spoke, his fingers slightly brushing against yours on several occasions. You had no idea whether he was doing it on purpose or not.

He was in the middle of a story about something that had happened to him earlier that evening when you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. He looked at you with raised eye brows, "what? Was my story boring you?"

"Not at all. But this is me," you nodded towards the small townhouse in front of you.

He let out a soft whistle, "Nice place. You live here alone?" He took in the building.

"I know it seems childish at my age but since the rent is expensive for a common student I atually have a room mate..."

"Having a roomie is not childish," he laughed, " I know society would have you believe that, but fuck 'em. It's much nicer than living alone. I have a roomie too; Diggs - you know, the guy you met earlier tonight."

"Oh! That's why he asked you to come home with him," you teased him.

Rafa shot back his head with laughter, "you really thought we were an item or something?"

"Hey, who am I to judge?"

Rafa continued to chuckle, "I love the man but it's completely platonic. Also; he's too ripped for my taste," Rafa joked.

"Waaaaay too ripped!" You chimed in, rolling your eyes to match Rafa's.

"So manly!"

"Too manly!" You continued in an over-exaggerated tone.

"...And he definitely doesn't have enough tattoos!" He continued.

"That man is a boring plain canvas," you joked.

"I keep telling him that a tattoo on his pec would do him good. But - sigh - he never listens."

You looked him over and couldn't hold back a small snicker, "Strong words coming from you."

"Yeah? What do you mean?"

"You're not exactly the 'tatted up'-type, now are you?"

"I have several tattoos," he chuckled.

"Eh, you do?"

"Yeah," he nodded with a vibrant smile, "on my chest and arms."

"I did not see that coming," you laughed.

"See - I can be interesting and unpredictable too," he looked awfully proud of himself, "How about you? Do you have any?"

"I do," you nodded, "just a small one. It's embarrassing really..."

"Yeah? Where?" He smiled sweetly. Even though it was dark, you could easily make out his charming crooked tooth.

"Uhm..." you contemplated not telling him but ended up thinking to hell with it, "it's on my inner thigh," you said carefully. Talking about your dumb tattoo that was located at a highly sexual place wasn't exactly something you'd normally do with men you'd only just met.

"Inner thigh, huh?" He licked his lips while examining your face, "not gonna lie; the thought alone turns me the fuck on!" He laughed, "why don't you invite me inside so we can study eachother's  tattoos?" He took a step closer to you. The sweet, charming guy who you'd had the pleasure of walking by your side was suddenly replaced by the fuck boy from the bar.

"You really don't waste your time, do you?" You laughed at him. Men you'd been on several dates with back home in England hadn't even been half as forthcoming as this guy was and you hadn't even known him for more than a couple of hours.

"Sorry," he shrugged while not looking the least bit apologetic, "I might've had a drink too many, but all I've been able to think about tonight has been how I want to take you home and get to know you better," he said while leaning in and stroking his thumb on the side of your arm, "you seem... different."

"Okay; full disclosure," you said with a sigh, "you're cute and all, but I'm not going to sleep with you."

He sent you a pout, "why not?"

"Well, as much a turn-on as it is to have a grown man beg you for sex," (he laughed at that), "I'm not going to have casual sex with someone I've only just met."

"Who says it has to be casual?" He smirked while leaning even closer, "I can do you good."

"God, you're insufferable," you rolled your eyes at him while fighting the urge to just jump him.

"But the good kind of insufferable, right?"

You laughed at his remark while slowly leaning closer to him, "no," you whispered.

"I'm really fighting hard not to kiss you right now," he groaned as he released his lower lip from between his teeth, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth. His put hands on your waist, and he was slowly edging his face closer to yours.

Your fingers easily found the back of his skull, and you softly nuzzled with his hairline, silently telling him that it'd be alright for him to kiss you.

His hungry gaze was fixated on your smile as his lips came crashing onto yours, finally closing the distance between you completely. As soon as your lips touched, he stopped dead in his tracks however; he was clearly waiting for you to take the next step - which you did, but not as fiercely as he would have hoped; instead of attacking him - as he was used to when he normally whipped up this move - you captured his lips in a soft, tender kiss, lips barely touching but still with so much raw emotion spilling into him, that he was left with a weird feeling in his chest. He thought to himself that the way you reciprocated the kiss almost was... loving? It was definitely something he hadn't tried in years.

He was about to pull you closer and advance further into the kiss, when you pulled your face away from his and whispered, "I've had a great night tonight. Thank you." You stepped out of his arms.

"Ah, you're being serious," he said with just a hint of hurt to his voice, trying to pull you back to him without any luck.

"Yep," you laughed while turning away from him.

"Hey," he called from behind you, "will I see you again?"

"You know where I live, don't you?" You looked at him over your shoulder. His hair was a mess and he was looking at you all innocently while you continued to walk away from him.

"What? You want me to make a big romantic gesture or something?" He laughed.

"You have my address, do what you want," you smiled before turning away from him and towards your front door.

You heard him groan from behind you as you put your key in the door, "Hey, I don't even know your name!" He bellowed.

"It's Margarita Girl."

"Aw, come on. The least thing you could do is give me your name," he called from the pavement.

"Goodnight Rafa," you laughed before the door closed shut behind you.

[2996-sana]

Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.  

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)  

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Drabbles: A Very Derek Christmas

Title: Irreverent Drabbles: A Very Derek Christmas Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: G Words: 2514

Irreverent Series Masterlist

ONLY READ THIS IF YOU’VE ALREADY READ THROUGH PART 39 OF THE MAIN IRREVERENT SERIES

"You're coming home with me for Christmas."

You look up at Derek as the two of you walk out to the parking garage. It was the week before the whole team would be off for the holidays and it marked the first without Emily. The realization that it was only the first of many more Christmases and birthdays without her was more than you were willing to deal with, so you pushed it to the back, hoping to simply forget about it.

"I have plans," you tell him, hoping he won't see through your lie. You had plans - if plans included sitting at home by yourself and drinking.

"Cancel them. I already booked your ticket."

Arguing with him would be pointless. Instead you roll your eyes with a smile and thank him.

You had a feeling he felt it was his job now, with both Emily and Hotch gone, to make sure you were alright. Like some sort of divine calling from Emily up above. Below? Who knows really, though you'd like to think she's in heaven. If there was a heaven.

*------------*

Fran Morgan had raised three kids almost entirely on her own. All of her children had turned out good, and both of her daughters were married. Now, if only Derek could find a nice girl to settle down with, she could feel like her job was done.

He'd called and told her he was bringing a friend home for Christmas - a female friend. She didn't like that he just called her a friend. Her son should know better than to think he could sneak one by his mother. Derek had never brought a girl home before and now he was bringing one to meet the whole family for the holidays. She wasn't born yesterday.

*------------*

The Morgan family was warm, welcoming, and just what you needed that year. Something to help you forget how shitty life had been lately. A reminder that good things like family and fun and heart were still concepts in the world. Maybe not your world. But other people's, and well, that was something at least.

You and Derek were both conscious of the implication of him bringing a girl home for the holidays. He'd already warned you that his mother would think that the two of you were together and would do her best to worm it out of you. There wasn't anything to worm out, but you both knew that from the outside looking in, your relationship was…odd to say the least.

Derek was every bit the man his mother had raised him to be, especially around you. He made an effort to hold doors open and walk on the outside of the sidewalk and had a hand on your lower back if it was just the two of you. The thing was, none of this was new or a direct product of Emily dying. The two of you had always had an easy and natural chemistry. It was just more of it now that neither of you had anyone else to have this with.

You'd both expected some amount of weirdness after that one time you'd made out on his couch. And yet, nothing changed. He still trained with you. The two of you still shared a bed when you could, because sleeping next to someone was simply nicer. Neither one of you was dating someone so it wasn't wrong or anything, though you still made an effort to make sure neither Reid nor Rossi caught on to the bed sharing.

In Derek's childhood home, his mother led you to the room his sisters grew up in while Derek took his old bedroom. Mrs. Morgan - or as she'd asked that you call her, Fran - intimidated you. She had a look in her eye that told you she saw way more than she let on and that made you a little uneasy despite her kindness and warmth.

*------------*

You were pretty, exactly Derek's type, his sisters had remarked. Fran and both her daughters were on edge, waiting to catch the two of you in a moment that betrayed what they all suspected - that Derek Morgan had brought home a girl that mattered. The three of them watched you like hawks, comparing notes on any little thing they caught.

Desiree had seen her brother bring you a mug of hot chocolate, filled to the brim with marshmallows, because apparently that's how you liked it. She'd stood in the kitchen, pretending to make herself some tea as she watched Derek hand you the mug and tease you about the number of marshmallows you'd demanded. There was a look in your eyes, a sparkle that she recognized from when she'd first fallen in love with Keith. The sparkle he would get in his eyes when she said something that made him fall just a little more in love with her. That sparkle meant something.

Sarah noted that Derek laughed more with you. Her brother was always a fun guy but with you it was like his normally buoyant personality got a boost. He was showing off for you, trying to make you laugh, he was trying and the Derek they knew didn't try for any girl. Girls tried for him. The two of you had taken it upon yourself to finish decorating the tree for their Ma and Derek had watched as you struggled to reach the very top of the tree to put the star on it. Instead of doing it for you, he'd lifted you up, hands wrapped around your waist, as if you weighed nothing and helped you put it on the top yourself. That look in his eyes - that look of pure adoration - that look meant something. How could it possibly not?

Fran had kept an eye on both of your bedroom doors at night, knowing her son wouldn't be able to resist sneaking over to sleep next to his girlfriend. Yet, as far as she could tell, the two of you stayed in your own rooms the entire night. Maybe he was just being respectful because it was his Ma's house. Yeah, maybe.

Desiree had been the one to put mistletoe up around the entire house. Then all three Morgan ladies waited, and waited, and waited. Until finally, the two of you happened to walk under the piece of mistletoe dangling above the entrance to the kitchen. You laughed, the barest of color in your cheeks as you went up on your toes and quickly kissed Derek's cheek. He didn't lean in. He didn't make it linger. It was over in the blink of an eye. All three of them looked at one another, completely confused. Well now what? What would it take to get you two to admit it?

*------------*

"You wanna go out for a bit?" Derek had asked you.

The two of you had been in Chicago for two days, most of which were spent participating in good old fashioned American Christmas traditions. His family had made it really easy for you to forget about your work and Emily and Doyle for a bit. It was a welcome respite.

Derek led you out through the garage, where you nearly stumbled and fell, dragging a tarp down with you. You'd uncovered an old motorcycle that looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

Derek laughs, helping you up. "I didn't know we still had that."

"Is it yours?" you asked, appraising it with some interest. You recognized it as an old 1980s Katana.

"It was my dad's," he explains. "I rode it around town as soon as I was big enough, though my Ma hated it. She was always worried I'd hurt myself."

You chuckle. You could see a younger, more rebellious version of Derek, sneaking out with the bike to pick up a girl.

Derek notes your curiosity. "Do you ride?"

"Yeah. It was really more Julian's thing," you tell him, your hands brushing over the handles. "But I asked my friend to teach me after Julian died. I had his old bike shipped over and rode it all through training."

Derek listens with interest. You didn't talk much about your brother and it was new to see you have some positive familial relationships. "This the same friend from New York that you…," he trails off, but you know what he means.

You smile, feeling a small pang in your chest. "His name's John," you explain, your voice soft. "I haven't seen him in a while. Not since my first Christmas with the Bureau."

Derek doesn't push. If you wanted to tell him more, you would. He can't help but think that John sounds like a cool dude. Your voice got all soft and fluttery when you talked about him. Completely different from when you talk about your ex, Matthew. He wonders if that's all he was - a friend.

The implication that you haven't slept with anyone since your first Christmas with the Bureau isn't lost on him. He couldn't imagine having gone that long without.

*------------*

Christmas morning, Desiree and Sarah arrive with both of their families and the Morgan home is filled with children and laughter and happiness. Derek is a good uncle, you note. He rough houses with the boys and will let the girls paint his nails and play tea party with them. The two of you while away an hour, pretending to drink tea and speaking in exaggerated British accents.

The family exchanges presents. You'd gotten something for all of the kids when you and Derek had gone out. You're not expecting anything, yet Fran hands you two wrapped packages. The first is from the entire Morgan family. Your first night there, they'd all been over for dinner and Fran had made sure to get a photo of everyone sitting around the table. You'd been sat next to Derek and you were both smiling, his hand around the back of your chair. Fran had framed it for you along with an invitation to come back anytime.

"Fran, thank you so much," your voice broke just a bit. Instead of saying anything else and embarrassing yourself, you chose to just hug her and allow her to wrap her arms around you. You understood where Derek got his incredible hugging ability from.

"Oh honey, we mean it. Anytime," she says, patting your cheek softly.

You open the next gift from Derek to reveal a vinyl record of an EDM artist both you and Emily had raved about and would constantly play in the plane when given the chance. You look up at Derek, unsure of what to say, so the only thing that comes out is, "You got me a vinyl EDM record?"

He laughs. "It's a vinyl record because you're bougie now you can have your ratchet music playing from that fancy record player."

You feel your eyes well up just slightly. He'd remembered the artist, he'd obviously gone through the effort of having a custom vinyl record made. And it was Emily's favorite too.

You blink back your tears. Not in front of people. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's see what you got me," he says with an exaggerated wink, eliciting a laugh from you.

Derek opens his present to unveil an autographed rookie card to one Walter Payton, legendary running back to the Chicago Bears. You watch in glee as his eyes bug out.

He looks up at you in shock. "How…?"

You smirk, knowing that it was the perfect present.

*------------*

Later that afternoon, you're helping Fran in the kitchen with the gingerbread cookies which Derek and his brothers-in-law are entertaining the kids in the living room. Desiree and Sarah had gone out to grab some stuff from the store for their mother. The news is playing in the background as you and Fran use the cookie cutters to cut out the gingerbread men for the kids to decorate.

Fran is telling you about how, when Derek was younger, he used to sneak spoons of sugar before dinner and then get stomach aches to skip out on school the next day. She can hear you chuckling as your head is bent over the cookie dough. However, the next second she can feel you tense. She looks up to see you frozen, cookie cutter in hand, eyes trained intensely on the TV in the living room. She watches as you and her son exchange a look and you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

You were gone for around twenty minutes and when you returned, your phone was ever present in your hand. You tried to act as though nothing had happened, but she didn't need to be a profiler like her son to know that something had changed.

You faked your way through dinner, before excusing yourself to go to bed early. Fran pulled her son aside and asked what the matter was. She sees his eyes dart to your bedroom door, behind which you'd disappeared moments before.

"The news earlier today, there was a bomb that went off in Pakistan. We've got someone there," he explains. "Someone important."

That look in her son's eyes - the look that she as his mother could read like the back of her hand. That guilty look that tells her that something wasn't quite right, something wasn't quite perfect about the two of you together. In that moment, Fran Morgan realizes, you and her son - it was nothing more than a pipe dream. Oh you mattered, you definitely mattered. But there was someone out there that mattered a little more than her son ever would to you.

She pats Derek's cheek and he leans into the comfort of his mother's touch. Kissing his Ma on the cheek, he walks down the hallway, and for the first time that entire week, she sees him slip inside your room.

*------------*

Derek had seen the raw fear in your eyes as you both caught the news regarding the bomb in Pakistan. You'd excused yourself and made a call to Penelope, asking her to keep you informed on any casualties or injuries. Anything at all.

Derek enters your room that night and sees you in bed with the phone next to your pillow. Your eyes are closed but he knows you're not asleep. He doesn't go to your bed. Instead he sits in the armchair by the window, turned towards you. Going to lay by you now felt wrong somehow. Because Derek. Derek knew even if you didn't.

Sometime around three in the morning, your phone buzzes and there is a message from Penelope. You blink and squint to read the screen in the dark room. Derek has been sitting in that chair for hours, the two of you pretending to sleep though neither one could.

Your voice is heavy as you speak. "He reported for duty this morning," you tell him.

Derek nods wordlessly before standing to go back to his own room.

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 09

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning: Angst? And Ethan kinda psyco 🤣

A/N: It took me ages to finish this chapter because, to me, the plot is kind of boring and it was made just for story progression (and I just couldn’t leave it behind nor reducing it to a paragraph for the next chapter), but I have to admit that with the adjustments that I made yesterday, it’s now pretty decent. Fortunately, next chapter is way more interesting.

A/N2: Special thanks to @aylamwrites​ for helping me with some of my writing/translation issues and for her advices.  Gracias gurrrl 💜💜💜

Hope you enjoy it!

Taglist @utterlyinevitable​  @shanzay44​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @laiba-the-person​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @lahellacute​ @lucy-268​ @aylamreads​ @binny1985​ @romewritingshop​ @cinnamonspongecake​ 

Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist!

________________

Chapter 9. The Less I Know The Better.

Then I heard they slept together

Oh, the less I know the better.

Eleanor made her entrance into Edenbrook with confidence she never felt before. Not even last year, when she was starting the residency program of her dreams at Edenbrook, she had felt this proud of herself. It was her first day both as a second-year resident and as Junior Fellow Member in the Diagnostics Team, directed by her medical hero, Dr. Ethan Ramsey. And well, yes. The person she had feelings for.

But today was also the first day where she would leave all that in the past, to truly be over him. She would face him, talk to him, and make his presence something so usual in her life that after a few weeks he wouldn’t mean anything but a mentor, a colleague, and hopefully, one day, a friend. But not more than that.

She knew it would be difficult. The night before had been hard enough not falling into his spell again. Her lips were thirsty for his kisses, her skin aching for his touch and her mind only wanted to float into the sky of his eyes once more. But she wasn’t blind anymore. She knew it wouldn’t do her any good.

Bryce had opened her eyes. Even if Ethan had the most selfless intentions pulling away from her to not jeopardize her career, he had hurt her consciously. He had ignored her even when she was drowning. And what Bryce had done just in a few weeks? He treated her like the most precious thing in the world. Like a queen. In the way she always wanted to be treated by someone, but she thought it was just stupid ideas romantic love had put in her head. He had listened to her, respected her space, consoled her when she needed it, and even when she didn’t think she needed it. He had made her his priority. The less she could do at that moment was putting him as her priority over anything she might be feeling for Ethan.

And now, there she was, facing her first obstacle, standing outside the Department of Diagnostics. Big glass walls, and a sliding door before her. She took a deep breath and with a smile on her face entered as the doors slid softly to let her in.

The office was quiet and illuminated by the natural lighting of that summer morning. There was the faintest scent of bergamot and mandarin in the air, probably traces of Ethan’s perfume left early in the morning.

She observed the place taking short steps around. A big desk in front of the entry, a circular table on the right side with a big whiteboard behind…

“I’m here, I’m really here”

“Hey, me too.”

…And a couch between the table and the entry, where it was a man reclined, reading a medical journal.

A tanned man with tiny eyes and a grown beard stood up and approached her. He seemed familiar, but the big smile on her face made her think she might be wrong.  

“Um, Zaid? You’re on the diagnostics team?”

“Ah, I take it you’re one of my twin brother’s residents.”—He answered extending his hand to the confused resident.—“Baz Mirani’s the name, immunology’s the game. Game-slash-specialty.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even know Zaid had a twin brother.”

After a few moments talking, her mind raced to the smirk Ethan had given her the night before. That’s why he didn’t want to talk about the team members. It wasn’t about bias, he just wanted to keep it a surprise the fact that Zaid Mirani had a super friendly twin brother that made them look the personification of the yin and yang in terms of niceness and well, in term of twins. While Zaid was King of Sarcasm, Baz had no ability to perceive it. While Zaid was grumpy and serious, Baz was amicable and talkative.

Then it was the time to meet the last member of the team, June Hirata. June was a very intense-looking woman with a British accent and a self-assurance that exuded from her pores.

Eleanor felt a little intimidated by the way the attending was scrutinizing her, but she thought it was normal for a neurologist and psychologist to examine a new colleague not only on a physical level but in terms of corporal language too, just like she was doing it.

After a few minutes of chatting with her new colleagues, Ethan appeared through the sliding doors.

“Introductions done? Great. We’ve got work to do”—He said, while the three took a seat in the table.

She couldn’t help but feel a little twist of nervousness inside her stomach, but she tried hard to suppress any emotions she might feel, and just focused on trying to be just as stoic as her mentor always appears. She put her best professional face and started to observe how the team worked and took notes of all the things they were saying.

June and Baz started asking questions to Ethan, who had all the information about the new patient. Eleanor remained silent, witnessing the exchange, trying to absorb all the information possible. She was a bit intimidated because that level of confidence and questioning was really out of her league, but she tried to convince herself that it was a normal response for a first day.

The team divagated through some symptoms, theories, and diseases until June gave the final idea: Cutaneous Kikuchi disease. With that, Ethan asked her to run a biopsy on the patient's rash to confirm the diagnosis.

Once the team was dismissed, both attendings returned to their other duties, leaving Eleanor and Ethan alone.

“After you’re done with our patient, you can see Ines and Zaid for further assignments.”—He said as he was taking a seat by his desk—"You’ll be balancing your work here with your usual resident duties. Now that you’re a second-year, that will include rotations at the free clinic.”

“Yes Dr. Ramsey”— She replied standing up from the chair—“We will always diagnose patients without seeing them?”

“No, but we’re often asked for help by hospitals all over the country, so it’s a good habit to keep our blind diagnosis skills sharp.”

Eleanor was about to reach the door when she stops in her tracks, hesitating. 

“Is everything alright, Eleanor?”

“Actually, could we talk?”

Ethan gazed at her for a few moments before answering.

“About the job or about us?”

“The job. That’s why we are here.”—Eleanor replied with obviousness, but it sounded harsher than she intended. As if it would never cross her mind talking about them.  

His eyes betrayed him for a split of a second as he addressed the coldness in her response, but then he just got up from his desk and moved to the circular table. Eleanor sat beside him a moment later.

“I’m all yours”

She couldn't help but shook her head to herself, not missing the ulterior motives in Ethan’s words for the second time straight.

“I’m just surprised how well and how quickly you worked that out. How are you sure you made the right diagnosis?”

Ethan took his time to explain to Eleanor how the team proceeded, the normal way they work, and gave her some tips to be more involved next time. He assured her that it was normal that the first days she would be feeling lost and ignorant, but once she started to obtain more knowledge from medical journals and research, she would improve her involvement in the team. 

She nodded at every advice, and when he was done, she kept staring at him inquisitively.

“What is it?”

“Your glasses, I’m not used to see you with those on.”

“Oh, yes. I use them when I work on the computer. Now that you’ll come to the office frequently, you’ll see me a lot like this.”

“They make you look smart”—She teased, trying to diffuse the tension she still sensed on Ethan after her cold response.

“You've caught me. The illusion behind my status. Without these, I’m a simpering moron.”

That seemed to relax his shoulders a bit. They both laughed for the first time without the tension of their actual status, where recriminations wouldn’t be involved this time. Her eyes shined, happy for sharing that moment after so much discomfort.

“So, Zaid had a twin brother and you dared to not tell me.”

Ethan chuckled

“I wish I was there when you saw him for the first time. I can only imagine your face.”

“Haha, very funny. You’re such a trickster, Ethan.”

They had lean close to each other without noticing, their knees touching, and his fingers just an inch away from hers.  Her composure stiffed, her will power was once again being challenged.

She couldn’t give in. She had to keep playing the cold Eleanor that didn’t feel a thing about his mentor.

She swallowed hard.

“Well, I should get those test run.”—She informed, taking the notebook in her hand, and then standing up in one swift motion—"Thank you for your advice, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome, Eleanor. Anytime.”—He responded, caught off guard by the abruptness of her reaction. 

Eleanor left the office quickly, sensing how his eyes were following her as she passed through the door. She released the breath that had been holding a few steps away from the office.

She had made it.

The interactions during the day weren’t any different. She ran the tests, informed her discoveries to the team (with the help of her intern, Esme Ortega), and then she made quite an impression with the Governor by diagnosing her son was sick; which granted her an invitation to have dinner with Naveen, Harper, Ethan, the Governor, and her staff that night. She had become the best card Edenbrook had to secure important funds to keep the hospital afloat.

After dropping Harper home after the dinner, Eleanor couldn’t suppress the memories of the last time she was alone with him in that car. The night before he left. The night of their last kiss, of the last time they made love. The last time they consciously and voluntarily stared at each other as lovers.

She was in the exact same place where everything had ended and after two months it still hurt.

Eleanor turned to her left, wondering if Ethan might be thinking the same, but his face was serious, without traces of knitted brows or troubled eyes. The streetlights were framing his features in different shapes as the car moved down the streets. She fixated her eyes in his grown beard, which still felt a bit odd to her, but to some extent, it would be useful as a fresh start. He wasn’t the Ethan she knew and wanted. He was the Ethan that left for two months to start over and be the boss and colleague she needed.

Then she looked away, coming back into her senses. She clenched the silk material of her pine dress in her fists until her knuckles were white

“What. Are. You. Doing?” —She asked herself, pressing her fists into her knees harder at every word she said on her mind. 

The car stopped before the red traffic lights and she felt Ethan was turning to her, staring.

“Don’t look at him. Don’t.”—She ordered in her head, her composure tensing even more.

But after a few moments, she gives up.

Amber connects with the sky and the earth stopped spinning. She was so lost in him that didn’t notice he had brought his right hand to hers, taking it gently.

“We’ll be okay.”

His thumb caressed the knuckle of her middle finger, and that’s what it took to feel a shiver down her spine. He knew what she was thinking.  He was touching her. No. It wasn’t anything. It didn’t mean anything.

She had to look away, but if the first time had been hard, now it would be impossible while he was staring at her. She couldn’t just look away. She wasn’t that brave, at least for now.

From the corner of her eye, she perceived a change in the lights. Her way out.

“It’s… It’s green now”—She said in a tiny voice, his eyes desperate for a moment.

Ethan glanced back to the street, clearing his throat. The air returned to her lungs.

He drove the rest journey in complete silence and he barely looked at her when she got off the car outside her apartment.

“Thanks for the ride Ethan, see you tomorrow”

“Goodnight, Eleanor.”

She had made it again.

--

The next day, Ethan and Naveen were sharing their remarks about the dinner the night before when they spotted Eleanor, Bryce, and Sienna entering the hospital after their lunch break. Ethan tried to avoid looking at her, not wanting to expose his mixed feelings about her in front of Naveen, but the old had mastered at reading him after so many years.

“Rumors says Dr. Bloom has been doing good these past weeks”—Naveen said as he finds Ethan following her, reluctantly.

“Mmmh?”

“In the company of a surgical resident”

 “You mean with that scalpel jockey?”—He inquired, pointing out the resident who was walking beside Eleanor with a brief motion of his head.

“Yes, precisely”

“I doubt it. They are just friends. Besides, I don’t think she’d like someone like him.”

Naveen didn’t miss the bitterness in his last words.

“What do you mean? Just because he is a surgeon?”

“Yes.  He is arrogant and shallow.”

“Shallow? To me is quite interesting. I’ve heard plenty of praises from Harper. Very promising, bold, intelligent, and ahead of most of his fellow second-year residents, even some third-years.”

“Hmmm, well, the point is I don’t think Bloom would have that bad taste dating a jock like him.”

“Well, they have been seen pretty cozy. I, personally, have seen them while having lunch or going t-.”

“I’ve seen them too.”—Ethan interrupted—"You say cozy, I would say he’s a harasser who likes to touch women, that’s why he might have his hands all over Eleanor. I don’t know why she lets him.”

“Am I sensing jealousy in your tone, my friend?”

“Jealousy? For Christ’s sake Naveen. Why would I be jealous of a scalpel jockey? And there’s nothing between Eleanor and me to have the right to feel jealous.”

Naveen chuckled.

“Whatever you say, my friend. But to me, they make a nice couple, she looks very happy around him.”—The Chief commented with a smirk full of malice, waiting for his reaction.

“Of course she’s happy around him, he acts like a goddamn clown all the time.”

Ethan turned around and left with his head steaming with anger.

He didn’t believe Naveen’s words. He didn't want to believe his words. He was convinced that Bryce and Eleanor were just friends, or maybe they were having a fling as all resident do, but nothing more than that.

But he couldn’t ignore such information much longer and against all his self-control and dignity, he started paying attention to her interactions with the surgical resident. However, at first, he didn’t find anything extraordinary. They would have lunch with her roommates as usual, hang out at Donahue’s like always, and chat through the hallways of the hospital as all colleagues do. Maybe Bryce acted flirtily and a bit handsy with her, but it wasn’t different from what he has always been with her.

The idea of them having a fling made him feel a pit in his stomach, but at the same time, it relieved him that it was just that. She was sleeping with Lahela so she could to move on. And he couldn’t blame her. But a relationship? Love? With that jock? That was beyond his comprehension.

While he was observing him, Ethan wondered what Eleanor would see in him. He had listened, without no other option, that many residents, even nurses, found him very attractive— ‘hot” was the most used word in fact—, while other residents, mostly men, would say he was cocky and arrogant, but Ethan was sure that even when he agreed he had a cocky way to conduct himself all over the hospital—all over the world— he wasn’t arrogant without fundaments.

He indeed was an outstanding surgical resident, he had heard many praises from Harper the last few months, so he just knew his worth and how to use it, and Ethan couldn’t condemn him for that. And if he was honest about it, he also had to be honest about the fact that he was an outstanding doctor too. He was always kind and nice to patients, always on time to prep them for surgeries, and always had the time and patience to explain for the umpteenth time how would be the procedure to any patient or family who would ask to him. And that was actually an important trait. That said, Bryce Lahela wasn’t so despicable after all, but he was a scalpel jockey and probably was sleeping with Eleanor, and that was enough to Ethan to despise him.

A few days later, th attending was accompanying a patient before her heart valve replacement when Bryce came into the room to prepare her for the surgery.

“Good morning Mrs. Montero, how are you today?”—He greeted in a joyful voice and then he nodded to the attending—"Dr. Ramsey”

“Dr. Lahela”

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be scared for.”—He assured—"Dr. Tanaka is the best doctor you could have to repair anything that involves your heart, so everything will be fine.”

“That means he could fix how broke my heart is after my husband passed away?”

Bryce stared at her with a sad smile.

“I’m afraid not. But with the new valve, you’ll get plenty of years to make new memories and adventures, so you’ll have enjoyed your time to the fullest before you left this earth to be with him."

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure you do. And let me say you that you will have the best resident by his side too, so you'll be in the best hands Edenbrook can provide.—Bryce winked warmly at her.

Ethan suppressed a scoff at his words and stood up from his chair.

“I believe you, my boy.”

And then Bryce grinned. A broad smile with his nose wrinkled paralyzed Ethan in his tracks for a second.

The same grin Eleanor had done that night at Donahue’s and that he had found odd and new in Eleanor, but for some reason, it was familiar.

And it was familiar because he had seen it in Bryce Lahela many times when he prepared patients for surgery. That sincere and knowing smile.

“Dr. Ramsey, thank you so much for your company.”

“You’re welcome, Elena. You’ll be in good hands now. I’ll come to see you when you have your new valve, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Lahela”—He nodded before leaving the room with his head racing incessantly.

He had read a while ago that expressions are contagious between people, even at the moment they are displayed, as a show of empathy and to recognize other people’s feelings. He did know too that couples after some time would imitate their expressions and laughs. But it also could happen with friends, family, and whoever you share a place to live with.

Maybe it was normal and Eleanor not only had expressions from Bryce but also from Sienna, Jackie, and Elijah, as they would see each other  throughout the day and they shared an apartment. 

But there was another option that could explain the fact that Eleanor had acquired a smile from Bryce. But he was so in denial that he didn’t even want to put it into words.

That realization changed everything in Ethan. His focus was now on Eleanor. On study how different she was compared to the months before he left. And in their daily meetings or just in their encounters through hallways of the hospital, he found that she was again the same happy and sweet resident he had met last year, with a calm demeanor, her sunny smile, and firm disposition to help whoever needed it. But he also noticed that this 'start over' between them had been taken seriously by her. She was completely focused on the work and never talked about anything that wasn’t work-related with him, and he never found her looking for his eyes or his touch like she used to, but he could tell she used to grow anxious when she had to be alone with him in the office.

A few days later, Eleanor found Bryce, Rafael, and Ethan on their way to their morning gym session so she joined them in a heartbeat. When she got into the room with her workout clothes on, the three buddies were in the treadmill warming up. She went to the fourth machine and started to run beside Rafael.

“What made you want to workout with us this morning, Ellie?”—He asked

“I always try to find a moment to make any physical activity but I hadn’t had the chance these few last days so I’m taking the chance now. I want to stay healthy,”

“That's a very good reason. The body is a machine. When it goes without use, it rusts.”—Ethan conceded, at the other side of the room, in the first treadmill.

“Don’t think that’s medically accurate, Doc”—Bryce pointed out, running between Ethan and Rafael.

“I know surgeons don’t know how to read a book, but that’s called a ‘metaphor’”—Retorted Ethan. Even if there was a teasing smile on his face, the bitterness of his words was evident to everyone in the room.

“Geez, I’ll tell Jackie to send you an invitation to the hate group for scalpel jockeys, Ramsey. You would love it”—He said, not missing a bit, his confidence not even remotely shaken.

Ethan observed Eleanor, whose smile had fainted with disappointment. After a few seconds, as she observed Bryce was smiling as usual, she quickly shook it off and ignored the attending for the rest of the routine.

Ethan knew there was something there and just the fact that he might confirm the rumors made him angry. At himself and at Naveen. Why he had to tell him? It would have been so much better not to know what Eleanor was doing with her life. It was not his business and he had no right to snoop into her life like he had been doing these few weeks.

---

The unusual bitter comment the attending had said to Bryce, made Eleanor sense that maybe he was suspecting about her relationship with the surgical resident. The multiples times she caught him observing her in her lunchtime, at Donahue’s, and anywhere he would spot her with Bryce were making sense now.

Maybe there were rumors. Maybe Naveen had told him, he surely knew every gossip in the hospital—not just because he was the Chief, but because he liked hospital gossip—, and of course he would deliver this information to Ethan to wake him up. The old man had always been pretty honest about his support toward Ethan and her.  

Or maybe he just knew. He just figured it out because of her coldness towards him and because even if she and Bryce tried to keep it lowkey, there was always the chance that he could have caught them the times theye couldn’t help but holding hands or kissing when they were close.

Either way, she didn’t care.

At least not as much as she cared the day before he was back, but now she felt relieved that Ethan might have some clues of her situation. She still didn’t want to confirm it, she wanted to know if he was bold enough, if it affected him hard enough to approach her and ask her about her relationship status.

But she knew him. Ethan was never a man of facing emotions or tough conversations. He was a master at avoiding feelings and people and maybe he would wait for something or someone who would confirm the rumors. The problem was if he was emotionally prepared for that moment.

 ______

[invisibleicewands]

[...] A sign on the door of his dressing room, where we meet, reads: "Fame is a vapour, popularity an accident, and riches take wings. Only one thing endures and that is character." Character is Sheen's speciality. He won't go into specifics of how he spends months readying himself for a role - it's as if he feels such preparation is too simple to merit comment. "There's no mystery," he explains. "You have to listen to them, read about them, watch them. Just that." [...]

[...] "I could never do impressions when I was at school," he says. "Never tried to. I still don't think I'm very good at doing impressions now, because that's not really what I do."You don't want the audience to be constantly thinking about how like a person or not like a person you are," he says, with slight impatience. "You want them to be on the inside of the character and think about what they are feeling and what is going on for them."The secret to his hard-won, chameleon-like abilities is, he claims, repeated viewings of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. "If my daughter watched a film that she liked, then she would want to be the characters from the film. So I would find myself having to be all seven dwarves. It meant that the more I'd do, the more I realised that it actually did sound like them - and that I might be quite good at doing this. But I would never have discovered that if it hadn't been for my daughter."Sheen's daughter Lily, eight, lives in Los Angeles with his ex, the actor Kate Beckinsale. He divides his time between acting in London and New York and spending time with her there. "It's a hard balance," he says. "I want to be around her but at the same time I have to do the kind of work that I want to do."He has family in Wales, where he was raised. There, he grew up with a very different ambition: "I wanted to be a football player first," he says. Having bested a young Tony Adams several times during a youth tournament, he was asked to join the Arsenal youth team at 12. His parents were unsure, and he got into acting at school instead. His hometown, Port Talbot, is where Sir Anthony Hopkins and Richard Burton also grew up. "You couldn't get a less theatrical town really," he says. "The Welsh are kind of innately expressive, I suppose, but that doesn't go to explain why one town would produce actors."But his family dabbles in theatrics. "My father gets work as a Jack Nicholson lookalike," says Sheen. "He does an American accent, or his Welsh version of it, as Jack and he gives it real welly. And that makes up for not being exactly like him," he says.Sheen junior left Rada in 1991 before completing his course, to take up a role in When She Danced, alongside Vanessa Redgrave. His Romeo at the Royal Exchange in Manchester the following year brought rave reviews (the critic Michael Coveney described him as the best young actor of his generation) and a television series - Ruth Rendell's Gallowglass - followed. He has dabbled in blockbusters - the vampire flick Underworld, its sequel Underworld: Evolutions and a role in Blood Diamond. But it was The Deal in 2003, written by Peter Morgan and directed by Stephen Frears - the team behind The Queen - that brought him to widespread attention. "There had never been anything like it before," says Sheen. "Until The Deal you only ever saw Blair or people in those positions in a satire or a comedy. You had never been asked to actually watch contemporary events through contemporary political figures as a drama before, and of course since The Deal there has been quite a bit of that."Despite his screen work, he remains more comfortable with theatre. "I think I'm becoming more relaxed in front of a camera," says Sheen. "I suppose I'll always feel slightly more at home on stage. It's more of an actor's medium. You are your own editor, nobody else is choosing what is being seen of you."Martyn Hesford, who wrote Fantabulosa!, has nothing but praise for him: "There's something anarchic in his performances, something that draws you to him. Even when he plays Blair there's something there, something which is like a slight wink. That's so rare - he's definitely one of the best actors of his generation. He put life into the character of Kenneth Williams. It was the first time, I think, that a script I'd drawn was better than I'd imagined."His portrayal of David Frost in Frost/Nixon, Peter Morgan's play about the series of talks between the British interviewer and the disgraced president, is so captivating that even American audiences, unimpressed by his mimicry of someone they are barely familiar with, are carried through the story. He is going to test the divide between screen and stage by reprising the role in a film version, directed by Ron Howard, next year.And after that? "I go back to Britain and do another film with Stephen Frears and Peter Morgan, and the whole team who made The Queen, about Brian Clough. I play Brian - it's based on that book The Damned United. There's a film coming out later this year called The Music Within, which will be the next thing you'll see me in." [...]

[im14andivebeen14foramonth]

The Parent Trap AU

This absolutely WONDERFUL art is done by @sanderssidestrash27 Thank for making this I love it so much!!!!!

Summary: Almost twelve years later, separated at birth twins Roman and Remus both end up at the same Camp Sanders. What chaos will ensue those short eight weeks? And where will it lead the twins when their time together ends?

     "And, once again, we have a winner! Presenting Mr. Napa California, Remus Parker!" The crowd of boys watching the tournament let out an uproar of applause and shouting as Gavin held Remus's hand up above his head in victory. Remus grinned, whooping along with all of the boys and swooping his arm in a righteous bow. "Now, do we have any other competitors?" Gavin asked. 

     Remus walked over to the group of onlookers to them all high fives, grinning and laughing at their words of praise. Even he couldn't deny it (not that he ever would), he *was* pretty good at fencing. Great, even. 

     "Oh come on now, boys!" Gavin said as he surveyed the nearby campers. "Someone here has got to be able to beat this champion, let's give it a go!" 

     "I'll try!" Roman declared as we walked up to the scene. He had a soccer ball tucked under his arm and had two other boys trailing behind him. They all looked like they just walked off of the soccer field, still sweaty and hot of breath. 

     "Alright, epic, let's go!" Gavin scribbled down *Roman James* next to *Remus Parker* on his clipboard. Above that sat rows upon rows of *Remus Parker*s next to previous opponents, all of their names crossed out and a star besides his every time. 

     Roman walked over to the pile of equipment while Remus talked with his friends. 

     "You're gonna win this one again, man," one of them said. 

     "Yeah, you're gonna whoop his ass, dude!" Another boy exclaimed. Everyone gasped at the foul language before laughing. "Besides, look at him. He's whooped from his soccer game, he wouldn't be able to win even if he tried." Remus grinned before turning to look at his new challenger, who was already suited up. 

     "Good luck, Re!" Camden said as Remus grabbed his sabre. 

     "Thanks, Cammy. But, I don't need luck." He tossed his blade into the air, catching it in and landing in a fighting stance. He pointed the protected tip of the weapon only an inch from Camden's chest. Who immediately flinched back. Remus smirked, proud of the reaction he was given. "I'm Remus Parker. AKA the best fencer in the whole country, AKA the one who's about to beat this poor boy's ass." The boys burst into laughter and playful applause as Remus made yet another ceremonious bow. Janus *did* always tell Remus to be confident in himself and his abilities, though he always made a point to assure Remus that he got his confidence from his other father, whomever that may be. Janus usually left that part out. Well, whoever it was, Remus had to thank them one day. Without them, he wouldn't be able to wack other people with long swords. The thought made him giggle quietly to himself. 

     "Alright boys, are we ready?" Gavin asked. Remus turned back around sliding his protective mask over his face. 

     "Yup," he stated, getting into position.

     "You know it," Roman said. Remus didn't know who this boy was, but he couldn't help but want to laugh out loud at his clear British accent. What British dude would want to come to a camp like this when he could be enjoying a cup of tea with the Queen or something? Remus almost laughed out loud.

     "En garde." Gavin said, crouching down to get a better view. The two boys touched their blades together, tense and ready for battle. Most of the campers held their breaths, a few of them letting out words of praise for the player they were rooting for. Things like *let's go Roman* and *you got this Roman* rang out amongst the crowd. Anticipation hung in the air like a rope, swinging back and forth between the opposing teams. The noise dropped as silence filled the air for a few frightful seconds before Gavin declared the magic word:

"Fence." 

     With that one, little word, Remus smirked under his gear. His attitude reeked of confidence as he swung his sabre back and forth towards Roman. Roman arched his back, avoiding every blow with surprising ease. Shocked, Remus almost lost his footwork, barely avoided the tip of Roman's blade. He regained his thoughts and ran by Roman to the nearest tree. He jumped with as much grace as he could muster, kicking his foot off the tree and propelling himself in Roman's direction. Roman, however, was able to jump back and duck, moving out of the way and missing all four of Remus's attacks. Roman, catching on to Remus's style quickly, decided that it was his turn to strike. So he jumped forward and launched his sabre at Remus. Remus was able to block Roman, causing them to run backwards into the grass. Remus, having to run backwards, lost his footing and rolled onto the ground on his back. The air was knocked out of him and he clutched the dark grass with his free hand, gasping for air. A chunk of the dewy plant was ripped from the Earth as his hand flew up to his chest. When he was finally able to regain his composure, he lifted the hand up to his eyes to block out the obnoxious rays of sun and view his determined opponent. He saw Roman lurking above him. He looked like he was trying to be dramatic, waiting until the very last second to strike. *What an idiot* Remus thought, rolling his eyes. *Two can play at that game.* Remus played there, pretending to be beat. The crowd of boys had quickly caught up with the two and were now shouting at each opponent. Some called for Remus to get up, while others cheered Roman on to finish his work. Roman, being the over-the-top and confident that he was, flexed his muscles in show. Remus almost chortled at his dumb this boy was, but instead kept up his act. Finally, done with his dramatics, Roman brought his blade up above his arms, lowering it to stab directly in the middle of his chest. That's when Remus rolled away, jumping to his feet and letting out a battle cry as he ran sword-first at Roman. The 6drown let out an uproar of yells while Roman shrieked out of pure terror. He ran away from Remus and up the stairs of the outdoor dining hall with Remus following only steps behind. Remus was able to run ahead of the other and hopped onto the seat if the bench. The boys continued to fence and he shimmied down the bench and Roman along the wooden deck. Until, that is, Remus got to the end of the bench and also the end of the deck, which if course, with Remus's luck, lacked a railing. And as he turned back around to find a route of escape, Roman decided to make his final strike. Where was his dramatics when Remus needed them? As the tip of his blade collided with Remus's chest above his rapidly beating heart, the force caused Remus to stumble and tip backwards, before eventually falling off of the deck…

     And into a trough of water. 

     Oh. *There* were his dramatics. Great timing. 

     As Remus hit the water back-first, the now large crowd of onlookers all gasped and fell still. Droplets of water splashed through the air and hit the warm grass, a few campers getting wet in the process. Still, they sat there, tense and unmoving. Finally, Remus was the first to move as he slowly turned his head towards Roman. He lifted his arms, watching as water pooled off of him and back into the trough. Turning back to Roman with his arms still extended, he growled. 

     "Really?" He snarled, his strained voice muffled by his mask but clearly seeping with rage. Roman had one of his hands up to his mask to cover his mouth in shock. He shook his head in an attempt to regain his thoughts before quickly dropping his sabre. 

     "Oh my God, I'm so so sorry! Here, let me help," he said as he extended his hand towards Remus. Remus peered up at Roman, smirking. He went to match onto to Roman's hand, but before Roman could even think of pulling him onto the dock, Remus yanked his arm as hard as he could. 

With a small, high-pitched shriek, Roman went falling butt-first into the container of water. Even as Remus was hit with the spray of water and even more soaked, he couldn't help but burst into a loud fit of laughter. As he continued to laugh hysterically, Roman looked down at himself. He let out a choked, offended scoff before shoving Remus back into the water, causing him to both stop his laughter and get even more wet. When he resurfaced, he saw Roman laughing just as he had been before and huffed, clocking Roman in the face. What could he say, his dad always did teach him to stand up for himself. And if that meant punching some random dude in the face (or even shoving someone down the steps, something that apparently his father found funny but told him to stop doing after the fourth time. Sorry, Billy, but that was MY Thomas the Train.) then so be it. 

     When Roman came down from the initial shock of being punched, he turned to Remus and decked him the same way he had, right square in the face. Now *that's* when things got bad. 

     The two boys went full out brawl mode, rolling around in the water, kicking, cursing, punching, and everything in between. Both boys found the other to be surprisingly around the same strength as himself, along with very similar fighting techniques. Punches right to the face and bites on the arm seemed to be both of their go-to's, apparently. Finally, after fighting for what felt like ages, they both felt Paris of strong arms wrap around their middles in an attempt to untangle them. They continued to go at each other's throats until the second they were dropped a feet apart in the grass, soaked and furious. 

     "Boys! That is enough!" Gavin said as he stood by Roman's side. 

     "There is absolutely no fighting at this camp, do you hear me? We work through our differences with words and nonviolent activities only. Is that understood?" Leo asked, hands held on his hips as he looked between the two boys. 

     "Yes, sir," Roman and Remus muttered in unison, their muffled responses dripping with annoyance and little guilt. Their minds were elsewhere, both secretly hoping that their masks were enough to protect them from the other's blows. Neither of them had been prepared for the other's strength, their egos to big to think that they would be beat. If not, they'd both walk out of the situation with black eyes and bloodied lips, not to mention a crap ton of red scratches. A cool story in Remus's opinion, but to Roman, who had never been in a legitimate fight before, he would be horrified. People might think he was a fighter, something he kept solely for playing and daily activities, up until now. His dad would kill him, his grandfather scold him, and his butler worry over him endlessly. A part of him found this new endeavor cool, secretly hoping to keep a few small marks for a while. But longer lasting ones that would stay after the eight week camp were not worth worth any of that. 

     Sure, Remus's dad would be mad, and his nanny worried sick, but they were used to this kind if behavior from Remus. Many days he'd come home from school beaten or bruised, either from his adventures or his schoolmate differences. Janus had to even go to his schools sometimes to pick him up or clear things up with his principal and teachers. He was always really good at convincing people of things. Remus felt bad when his father had to come get him or patch him up, but he always tried to be better for him. He knew he wasn't easy to handle all the time, especially with only his dad and nanny there to take care of him. But, like usual, he would definitely be given more chores and a scolding. Not to mention, black eyes hurt. A whole lot. If he did have any, however, he was lucky that his nanny had been teaching him how to use makeup lately now that he was getting older. Some ice and concealer would do the trick.

"Boys! That is enough!" Gavin said as he stood by Roman's side. 

     "There is absolutely no fighting at this camp, do you hear me? We work through our differences with words and nonviolent activities only. Is that understood?" Leo asked, hands held on his hips as he looked between the two boys. 

     "Yes, sir," Roman and Remus muttered in unison, their muffled responses dripping with annoyance and little guilt. Their minds were elsewhere, both secretly hoping that their masks were enough to protect them from the other's blows. Neither of them had been prepared for the other's strength, their egos to big to think that they would be beat. If not, they'd both walk out of the situation with black eyes and bloodied lips, not to mention a crap ton of red scratches. A cool story in Remus's opinion, but to Roman, who had never been in a legitimate fight before, he would be horrified. People might think he was a fighter, something he kept solely for playing and daily activities, up until now. His dad would kill him, his grandfather scold him, and his butler worry over him endlessly. A part of him found this new endeavor cool, secretly hoping to keep a few small marks for a while. But longer lasting ones that would stay after the eight week camp were not worth worth any of that. 

     Sure, Remus's dad would be mad, and his nanny worried sick, but they were used to this kind if behavior from Remus. Many days he'd come home from school beaten or bruised, either from his adventures or his schoolmate differences. Janus had to even go to his schools sometimes to pick him up or clear things up with his principal and teachers. He was always really good at convincing people of things. Remus felt bad when his father had to come get him or patch him up, but he always tried to be better for him. He knew he wasn't easy to handle all the time, especially with only his dad and nanny there to take care of him. But, like usual, he would definitely be given more chores and a scolding. Not to mention, black eyes hurt. A whole lot. If he did have any, however, he was lucky that his nanny had been teaching him how to use makeup lately now that he was getting older. Some ice and concealer would do the trick. 

     "Boys!" Leo said, snapping his fingers. "Up here!" Both of the boys shook their heads and left their thoughts behind to linger on their own in favor of listening to the counselor. "Now I want you two to apologize to each other. And take off your protective gear, it must be soaking wet by now." 

     The two boys huffed and turned to face each other. In unison, the two reached up for their masks, dipping their heads downwards and sliding them off. As their arms fell to their sides, they lifted their heads, and immediately locked eyes. They both gasped at what they were met with. 

     Light brown eyes met the same pair of light brown eyes in return. They scanned each other's face, taking in their similarities. Scattered freckles splayed like the night stars, fluffy light brown hair, only partially wet as the summer sun quickly worked to dry it. Unfortunately, they both had obvious scratches and bruises along their faces, most noticeably on their cheeks and noses. It was as if both boys had the same thought process as the other. So, not only did they *look* alike, but they *thought* alike. Strange. 

     "Well, boys?" Leo asked after a few silent seconds. The boys looked over to him, confused. 

     "Sorry?" They asked in unison, the man's speech only seconds ago now long forgotten. 

     Leo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll take it. Now please, get to your respective cabins and clean up before dinner in the mess. If you require any assistance, the medic cabin is that way. Now go, shoo. And please, no more trouble." Flapping his hands,bhe ushered the boys along. They stared at each other, not breaking eye contact as they walked towards their cabins. Once they hit a fork in the road between their two cabins, Gavin ran up to them. 

"Wow, it's like you two are twins or something! That's so weird!" He said before running off. 

     The boys looked back at each other, sparing one last glance before they glared and stomped off. 

     This was war. 

Taglist: @sanderssidestrash27 @dew-drop-of-honey @ab-artist @iinyxtello @safesandersides @yep-another-fander @savetheupholstery

I hope you guys liked it!!!!!

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (1)

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my new and long time awaited series - Summer Nights. Please read every necessary information in the INDEX of the story (warnings, summary). Do not forget that the fic is quite mature and might contain some obscene stuff (i.a. alcohol and sexual items). I’ll try to post each chapter regularly (like one per week?) however as it sometimes turns out - I can be unreliable in that matter ( ;

Words: 2.6k 

Warnings: coarseness, poverty problems, swearing, alcohol and sexual items (or rather mentions of them?), reference to arranged marriage   

Tags: @okaydraco @idkatee @paradigmax @winnsmills @war-sword

You turned your gaze away from a computer screen and looked yearningly out of the window on the chaotic streets of Paris.

At that time of day, the city seemed to teem with life, especially in the summer season when many tourists came over to visit the town. You could notice a variety of cultures among crowds of people. They gathered and filled in restaurants, eating and laughing, and chatting with each other.

So how, for God’s sake, did you deserve to be at work today?

The thought of scrumptious spaghetti and a glass of red wine made you feel frustrated. And cloudless, wonderful weather waiting for you outside did not make it any better. You imagined yourself laying in a bikini on the sandy beach with ‘Vogue’ magazine on your laps and Pina Colada in your hands. Or bathing in warm ocean water with sun rays smoothly tanning your skin.

These visions caused a dreamy smile to appear on your face.

However, as soon as you scooted over in a fantasy world, the poke in your shoulder brought you back to reality. You turned your head to the side to see your co-worker and best friend, Chloe. She was crouching next to your chair with her piercing gaze studying your face attentively.

Chloe was a gorgeous woman, and you could easily say that she could break more than one heart. She had big, blue eyes and long, blonde curls falling on her slim shoulders. She had full, pink lips with a Greek-type nose and prominent cheekbones that highlighted her beauty. Her figure was feminine and slender with ample bosom, flat belly, and long legs.

There had been many situations when groups of passing-by boys stopped her in the middle of the pavement, scanning her body up and down with boisterous whistles and comments of a sexual nature. Although you had always tried to stand up in her defense, she never really cared to bother much, just shrugging it off.

“Are you alright?” She narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “You look like a walking dead.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled amused, bitting your cheek. “No, I’m actually fine. Just a little bit dizzy, but don’t worry about it. ”

“For sure? You know, if you take a nap at work, I might be the first person to know about it.” both of you chortled slightly, and you rested your elbows on the armrest. Chloe’s phone started to buzz in her purse. She took it out, muted it down, and eyed you again.

“Anyways. Why are you leaving so early? It’s just four o’clock, and I thought you were ending your shift at eight.” You peeked at the watch on your hand and arched your eyebrow suspiciously at her. Now it was your turn to interrogate her.

“Well, I took a day off,” she informed you. “I’m having a date with Louis today. We meet at six, and he takes me to some fancy restaurant. Of course, he didn’t want to tell me the exact location, mentioning something about ruining the surprise. You know him..” She rolled her eyeballs playfully with a meaningful sigh and an unambiguous smile plastered on her face.

Louis was Chloe’s boyfriend, but also one of your closest friends. You couldn’t say he was the easy-going type of person, and when you first met him, you had presumed his behavior to be a little bit too ‘self-centered’. However, after many years of acquaintance, you had learned that he was rather desperate to drag attention on himself and impress others, with you and Chloe included.

“Lucky. I’m stuck in here for a night shift,” you complained, leaning on the chair's backrest and letting a small groan out of your mouth. It was the third time this week you had to stay at your job for night time. And that wore you out.

“Again?” She frowned.

“Unfortunately...” You grimaced, glancing at your friend with a corner of your eye. “My father hasn’t paid the bills again. I’ve to earn some extra money…"

"Can I-"

"I know you want to help, but please, let's not think about it," you cut the conversation out. Your face started to get warmer, so you lowered your head as not to show your embarrassment. You trusted your friend with all of your soul but still more than felt awkward when it came up with family topics.

Chloe remained silent and smiled supportively, tightly gripping your palm. You appreciated her ability to understand people’s emotions and her tact of how to respond to them.

“I really have to go, Y/N. Call me if you needed any help.” Chloe stood up and went to the backroom of the reception. She put on her coat, wrapping her green bandana around her neck, and then slightly pecked your cheek. She walked over to the exit and, for the last time, turned towards you, waved in the bye, and left the hotel.

You gaped at the place where Chloe had just disappeared, slowly letting out your breath. After a while, you switched the laptop back on and decided to occupy yourself with reading. Clicking on the ‘iBooks’ application, you selected a book - ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’. Maybe, at least that could help you take your mind off things and spend some of your time while visitors weren’t around. You opened the first chapter of the novel, but soon after, you heard someone entering the room again.

Lifting your head, you beheld an elegant woman with a younger boy by her side. You assumed them to be a family, considering their striking similarity in appearance. Also, they distinguish themselves from their surroundings with their peculiarly sophisticated garments and unnaturally pale skin.

The woman smiled at you kindly and approached the reception desk. You got up from the chair and reciprocated the gesture.

“Bonjour madame. Comment puis-je vous aider?” you asked and saw a confused expression painting on the woman’s face. She furrowed her eyebrows for a short moment and cleared her throat.

“Mm… Hello. Do you speak English?” she asked hesitantly with a language accent that informed you instantly of her origin. Many guests of the hotel usually arrived from different parts of the world, which had let you acquire the skill of guessing their probable nationalities.    

“You’re British I see,” you noted, grinning. “Of course I do. Welcome to Paris! How can I help you?”

“We have a reservation under the name Malfoys.”

Nodding in understanding, your fingers swiftly started to tap the keyboard of the computer. You entered in the search engine of hotel’s guests with surname ‘MALFOYS’ and found a booking for two people.

“Could I check your ID cards first, ma’am?” you asked and saw her rummaging in the bag. Meanwhile, you started to prepare every necessary paper for her to fill out.

“Here it is,” she finally stated, and you reached over for the documents. You noticed the woman’s foot nervously tapping on the floor but decided to ignore it.

“Thank you,” you said while surveying everything. “Okay, so - Narcissa Malfoy, apartment number 354 - Presidential Suite. It’s on the fourth floor.” You laid the keys with ID cards on a counter top. “And Dra- Dra…”

“Draco. It’s Draco Malfoy,” the boy spoke up for the first time, and - by the tone of his voice - you could already judge that he wasn’t the friendliest type of a person, to say at least. You moved your gaze on his figure, and your eyes met with his stern glare, which sent unpleasant shivers down your spine. He was sitting on one of the lounge chairs located in the room, twisting a carved stick in his fingers. Quickly realizing that you stared at the object, he hid it in his pocket.

You giggled nervously and shook your head.

“Yes. Draco Malfoy. I’m sorry for my oversight.” You blushed profusely and tried your best to pretend that your pre-momentary blunder did not affect you anyhow. You took a second key from a shelf and placed it next to the first one. “Room number 355 - Royal Apartment. Although, it on the fifth floor, which means not located nearby your mom's one, sir."

“No problem for me.” Huffing, he got up from the armchair and walked over, grabbing the keys. His expression still evinced the arrogance, but now you had a chance to examine his appearance more closely and perceive his unparalleled attractiveness. His platinum hair suitably contrasted with grey irises, and the sharp jawline with his muscular body made your knees weak.

Just great...

“If there is anything you needed, please let me know,” you proffered and forced a smile, wishing it didn’t look so fake as it felt. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” said Narcissa, sauntering away with her son following shortly after. You took a last peek at Draco and saw him sending you an unpleasant look before leaving the lobby.

* * *

Narcissa with Draco entered her spacious hotel room. She began to look around the space, smacking her lips in delight. After that, she sat gingerly on her bed and discretely ran her fingers through the bedding set so as to verify its fabric. Draco knew and was accustomed to his mother’s atypical habit of checking the quality of things before using them.

She patted a place next to her, encouraging him to take a seat. He just pressed his lips into a straight line and only shook his head.  

“Draco, let’s talk,” she started, grunting.“I think you should - at least - consider being tolerant of those muggles. I know it is a tough period of our lives, after the war...” Narcissa shuddered at the reference of that event and her eyes filmed over a little. “But it is time to move on. Wizarding World is not going to be this same for many years. That’s why for this vacation, I wanted us to come to the place that could let you dispose of redundant memories and experien-”

“Dispose of memories?” Draco cut her off and huffed, leaning flippantly against the wall. His voice was very tight and harsh.“How do you think I could possibly get rid of them? Maybe Dark Mark on my forearm would help me solve that issue? Or Obliviate spell would be a solution?”  

At once, the blood was boiling in his veins. He didn’t blame his mother for decisions of the past, but he could not stop himself from snapping. A recollection of tortures he had had to perform on others, of tortures he had had to bear himself, of incurred deaths he had seen… and committed. That wasn’t a fleeting thing to forget.

Narcissa took a deep breath and ignored her son’s snarky comment. She decided not to give up with the plan of their conversation for this evening. So and so, he had to finally hear the truth, right?

“I and your father with Greengrass family established that by the end of this year, you are going to propose to one of their daughters.” She gazed at him, partly expecting the next outburst of emotions. Although Draco’s ears began dangerously reddening, she assumed the silence was a non-verbal acquiescence for her to continue. “You do not have to worry about arrangements for the nuptials, nor about other wedding cases. Everything is going to be organized. And I deeply believe that marring one of those beautiful girls might bring a state of contentment in your life.”

Draco gulped down his saliva and fixed his eyes on the floor, his face expressing wrath.

“I’m sorry mother, but I’ve no idea how marrying a person who I’ve hardly ever talked to could make me any happier.”

“Dear, me and Lucius did not fall in love at first sight either. Nevertheless, we accepted the unusual plight that we were put in, and then we got accustomed to leading our new, joint lifestyle,” she explained, carefully choosing her words. “And I am aware that it must be hard for you. So and it was for me. But now, I could not imagine it to be any different.”

“Well then, if you felt this same way as I do right now, please tell me why are you expecting this same from me by imposing the marriage? Why can’t I choose someone to fall in love with?”

Good point. 

Narcissa seemed to be momentarily speechless by his question because there was an awkward, uncomfortable pause for a long moment. Draco sniggered loudly and turned away to leave, but before doing so, his mom’s voice echoed in the room again.

“Love is only a matte-“ she took her last try to argue, her tone rather desperate.

“I don’t care!” he yawped, turning the knob and slamming the door behind him with a violent bang.

Draco headed over to search for a bar where he could abreact the minute-ago conversation. The tension of his body was unbearably upsetting, and his heart was pounding aggressively in his rib cage. His fists clutched tightly, knuckles becoming white and teeth clenched.

Fuck his parents.

Fuck them with their shitty ideas.  

When would be a time for him to be able to determine his own opinions about matters in his life? Or rather, the doubt is - would there ever be that time?

Before he knew it, he found himself in this same lobby where he had been an hour ago. As he walked over to the recently encountered receptionist, he spotted her writing something vigorously on an odd, square box. As to not arise any suspicion, he decided to act casually and hide his enticing interest in this particular... object.

Soon enough, you noticed the blond-haired boy and realized it was the man from earlier. A bump formed in your throat, and you fought a sudden urge to run away. Instead, you just set your phone aside and lifted yourself up, all your muscles refusing to do this same activity for the thousandth time this day (‘Is this some kind of aerobic or what?!’).

“Is there something I could help with, sir?” you asked with a smile, trying to remain calm, which was an exceptionally intractable task in this boy’s presence. Maybe as an effect of tiredness, it was hard for you to compose, but you did not like it a bit. 

“Yes, actually.” At least he took his best effort to be polite. Although a horrible exasperation, as if something pained him, still convulsed his features. “I wondered if there was a place where I could have some Firewhisky or so?”

‘Firewhisky?’ you thought. ‘Is it some kind of British dainty?’

“Well, for sure I haven’t heard of heating up Whisky before,” you joked, attempting to lighten things up. However, his glare gave you a hint he was definitely not put in a mood for such things.“But there is a pub where you could have a drink, sir. It’s on the opposite street, so all you need to do is to cross over a road.”

Draco nodded. "Oh, and one more thing." He reached over to the inner pocket of his sable jacket and took out an ornamental envelope with an old-fashioned red seal on the top of it. "If the woman who I was with before starts looking after me, hand her over this letter, could you?"

You didn't know where an uninvited rush of interest hailed from, but the mystery-insatiate part of your brain screamed out at you to play along with his cards to winkle out more information. "What if she asks me questions? Shoul-"

"Bend the truth. I only ask you to do one thing for me. Don't reveal to her where or when I went. I gave you the envelope and disappeared out of your sight. Understood, muggle?"

You didn't grasp the last part of his sentence; the one concerning --mugel? meagul? megull? -- but you could bet it meant to be an insult. Swallowing your suspicious hunch, you put on a sympathetic smile. "Sure can do, sir. Hope you have a good night out."

"Thanks. Later." And without any other word, he strode away.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Crowley ~ Pour Some Sugar on Me

800 Followers Challenge!

Requested by @sheppardaddicts

Based on  Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard

Words: 1,555

Warnings: Typical violence, bit of blood, sexual tension.  18+ only for safety.

The shotgun blast was loud, making Crowley ears ring and both Sam and Dean flinch, but it was accurate, sending the demon flying across the room, the three men looking around to see who had fired the shot.

“Heads up.”  You said casually, nodding as the demon was getting back to his feet.

Sam and Dean quickly took it down, but Crowley’s gaze never left you as you rested the shotgun on your shoulder, the barrel smoking.  It certainly was an impressive sight against the black jeans and leather jacket, hair pulled away from your face, a casual grace about you that you knew what you were doing.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked, wiping sweat from his brow, sending a distrustful glare your way.

“Well, certainly not from Hell, but pretty close to it these days.”  Your English accent made the three of them share a quick look, even as you waved your other hand.  “No need to worry about that lads, we’re on the same side.”

“Uh huh,” Dean keeps a firm grip on his gun.  “Forgive me if I don’t believe you sweetheart.”

The smirk you wore instantly proved to Crowley that you didn’t care what Sam and Dean thought in the slightest.  “The name’s Y/N, Dean Winchester, and I wouldn’t be so quick to judge, I’m a hunter just like you and your brother, and by the looks of it, you need my help.”

“I didn’t think there were any British Hunters?”  Sam asked, frowning at you.  “I thought the Men of Letters didn’t allow for them.”

You chuckled.  “Oh, they try, trust me, but there’s a few of us, we don’t enjoy being told what to do see, and so when they sent their best agent here,” You shrug.  “It was natural that one of us followed.  Can’t have them trying to wipe us all out now, can we?”

It was clear Sam and Dean weren’t going to trust you easily, even less so when you started getting along well with Crowley.

“If you know what he is,” Dean asked, perhaps a little harshly as the four of you sat sharing a drink, waiting for Castiel.  “Why are you treating him so normally?”

“Come on Dean,” You said, smiling at him, completely unfazed by the distrust.  “All of us here know that things aren’t black and white in hunting. By the looks of it you guys have been working together for a while now, so who’s really treating who normally?”

Crowley chuckles at Dean’s sour look, earning the furious glare of the hunter.  “She has a point squirrel.”

“Demon’s are usually the good ones anyway,” You said, smirking over the top you glass as you take a sip.  “Angels are just…boring.”

Sam spat his own drink back into his cup, Dean just looking at you with what looked like a very painfully blank expression.

Crowley hides his own smirk behind his glass, catching your eye for but a moment, but it was more than enough to convey a message.

Things quietened down when Castiel got there and talk turned to more serious discussions.  As it turned out, you were well aware of what was happening with Lucifer and the British Men of Letters.  How you knew, you wouldn’t elaborate on, but you were confident in your abilities to help them without getting anyone else involved.

So, a little reluctantly, you joined in the small crew, offering a surprising amount of knowledge to the situation and insight to the British Men of Letters.

But only Crowley ever dared asked where that knowledge came from.

“I used to be one,” You said with a shrug, as if it was no big deal.  “But when they treat you like fodder and don't like someone that performs above their pay grade, in amongst all the stuffy systems, I didn't see that there was much choice.” You pulled the collar of your shirt down.  “Let's just say that faking your death isn't much fun either, but it's the only effective way of getting out without actually being dead.”

“Well, you could have made a deal.” Crowley said lightly, making you laugh.

“Yes, because there's so many demons around in England.” You shake your head.  “Even if there was, any demon worth it's salt would've known that that was a death sentence too.”

It frustrated the Winchester's and Castiel that you and Crowley got along so well, it certainly didn't help with the trust side of things, but they knew that there was little they could do about it, you were your own hunter, in and out of the bunker as you pleased, taking cases and hunting down further information that was needed to further a potential plan.

The timing of the plan ended up not working in your favour, all of you finding yourselves a little worse for wear afterwards and you storming off, not wanting to face the blame that was being thrown your way.

Crowley was the only one to come after you.

“You know, if it was anyone else, they’d be at the end of my gun right now,”  You growled as you stepped out of the bathroom in naught but a towel, finding Crowley seated at the small table in the motel, a drink in hand. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He gives a slightly amused snort, seemingly unconcerned about his own injuries.  “Well, someone had to make sure that your injuries weren’t too bad.”

Shaking your head, you walk over and take the drink from his hand, taking a sip.  “Trust me, even against an archangel, I’m harder than that to kill.”

“So I’m seeing,” Crowley said, amused as you handed him the drink back.  “You really are a wonder love.”

There was no missing the smirk on your lips as you stepped away, heading back to the bathroom for a moment.  “You going soft on me Crowley?”

“I’d hope not.”

You chuckle, reappearing with a washcloth in hand.  “I’m surprised you didn’t at least clean up before you came and saw me, snap your fingers and all that.”

Crowley takes a drink, his eyes not leaving you.  “Why? It’s much more entertaining having someone do it for me.”

“Really?”  You asked, standing before him, the cloth in hand, eyebrow raised.  “And what exactly gave you that impression Crowley?”

He snorts.  “Are you really going to try and dance around this love? After all we’ve been through?”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Aww, do you need some stress relief?”

“Says the one who’s been walking around in a towel.”  He offers his drink to you, watching as you drain the rest of the glass.  “And who’s not complaining against a drink.”

Chuckling, you lean over him to place the glass on the table before straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips as he shares your smile.  “I’m a Hunter, I enjoy a drink or two, as for the towel, I just enjoy some freedom for a while, this is actually me being modest, normally I’m bare.”

His fingers trail under the edge of the towel, slowly brushing along your skin.  “Well, that can easily be arranged.”

Smiling, you carefully begin to clean the blood from his face.  “Funny, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in humans too much.”

Crowley’s look was slightly indignant, his tone laced with sarcasm.  “I’ve never seen a human this close before.  Whatever shall I do?”

You laugh, shaking your head.  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The cloth flew from your hand and Crowley’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you down to him, his lips hungrily claiming yours and you quickly sank into him with a small moan, letting him dominate the kiss.

Slowly, the kiss turned lazy, exploring, any urgency fading as you both silently came to the conclusion that this shouldn’t be rushed.  Yours hands ran over his chest, slipping under his jacket and pushing it off, letting the towel slip off in the process, Crowley humming in appreciation.

You sighed as he hands began to explore and a soft laugh leaves you as you break away from the kiss for a moment, nuzzling into his neck.  “Never took you as a patient man.”

He growled as you nipped his throat and then you found yourself landing hard on the bed, giggling as Crowley pinned your hands above your head, his lips hovering just above yours. “I thought you’d know not to tease a demon.”

“Why?”  You asked innocently.  “Teasing gets me exactly what I want.”

There was a dark flash through his eyes, and you had no time before his mouth was back on yours, hot, hard and dominating, the smirk that had been on your lips quickly being lost to a heady moan, Crowley growling in response, his hand freeing yours and starting to explore.

You tried to move your hands but found them still pinned the bed, feeling Crowley smirk against your lips, sending a thrill of heat through you, your heart rate soaring and anticipation pounding through your blood.

This was what you wanted.

You were Crowley’s tonight, no consequences, no thoughts of a new plan, just the result of insinuations and teasing since you’d met and perhaps a silent promise of it being more than a one night thing.