#a sleeve would be really cute and colourful and something for them to slowly add to over time

[byanyan]

byan having an entire sleeve of tattoos dedicated to & themed around magical girl anime... or simply having individual tattoos & references hidden within other tattoos across their body... hmmm...

[vilandel]

Silver Cats & Black Roses

Chapter 26 – Preparations

A/N In which Charlotte and Vanessa finally learn about each other's relationship 💙💜 I also described their ball gowns in this chapter and I'm rather proud of those descriptions^^

Ao3 link

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“Here is the masterpiece made especially for you, lady Charlotte.”

Soie Velours smiled at her before taking the blanket away from the dressmaker dummy, revealing her ball gown.

Charlotte was not much into fashion in general, but in this case, she was taken aback by work made by Soie Velours, her nephew and her workers.

“As you can see, the finest black silk was chosen, making the shine of the skirt really exceptional in every light you can imagine. Your shoulder and arms are free, only a small ringlet of a black and golden sleeve on your upper arms. Black is the main colour, but as you can see, there a few golden patterns on the fabric. Not much, which makes all the gold even more special and truly standing out of the black, without taking away the purpose of the main colour. Please admire those golden embroideries left and right on the bodice, leaving the front and the back just black, which will underline your fine waist. The same embroideries are found at the bottom, going up more or less to the height of your knees in a rather irregular way. Observe how those golden embroideries have the shape of golden leaves and golden vines with thorns, waved into each other, accenting the theme of the rose. Speaking of, you may have noticed those little black roses on the golden patterns, on the bodice and down the skirt. Those roses are made out of silk as well, for the shine of this particular fabric. We also took the liberty to add some subtle golden threads within those roses as well, to give them a small golden glow. And the cream of the cream, it is a wide skirt that will turn around you like a big black rose, the golden patterns are going to look like golden dew.“

“That last part was my idea,” Lin Velours timidly added, but his eyes were shining with pride.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Charlotte whispered, slowly reaching her hand to touch her dress. The silk was incredibly soft under her fingers. She really hadn’t imagined concretely how her ball gown would look like, but this expected all of her expectations by far.

She could only hope that Yami would at least like this beautiful dress as well.

Somehow, Charlotte was glad that she came alone to Soie Velours’ shop today, without anyone from her girls and more importantly, no one from her family. Of course, she would have loved if her mother would have accompany her. But today, Orchidea had decided to give herself a mission and find some proper ball clothes for Asta, Magna and Luck.

Still, having no one with her in the private salon of the Roseleis, it made this moment really special for Charlotte.

“I… I have not enough words to say how happy and grateful I am.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, lady Charlotte,” the dressmaker replied, flicking her hand. “Your happiness is our biggest thanks. Besides, it’s better than the nitpicking, scared and stupid worries of some noble ladies who are only satisfied after a whole ocean of flattery.”

Charlotte could imagine that. A lot of nobles were actually more insecure than anyone would thought at first.

“Would you like to try your dress on, lady Charlotte?” Lin asked timidly.

Charlotte thought about refusing first, but she hold back. She had some free time and she knew that it was one thing to see a ball gown on a dummy, but something else entirely to wear it herself, looking in the mirror.

Besides, Lin Velours was way too cute to say no to him.

“Oh, gladly. But you don’t need to call one of your workers, I can put it on by myself.”

“This kind of dress is pretty easy to put on and you can go behind this paravent. It’s a bit heavy since it’s silk, but I believe this won’t be a problem for you, as a Magic Knight and a strong squad captain.“

Soie Velours handed Charlotte the black gown and the captain of the Blue Roses disappeared behind the paravent covered with pink clouds and dark green birds.

The dress was indeed easy to put on, but Charlotte still took her sweet time. Just enough to run her fingers over the silk, the golden embroideries, the silky little black roses.

Charlotte wondered again how Yami would feel seeing her wearing such a beautiful dress. Would he say again that she must being cold wearing it? Or would he actually subtly compliment her?

After all, it wasn’t like Yami cared if she was dressed elegantly or not. Sometimes, when lust clouded their minds, it happened that he ripped her clothes of her in the heat of the moment. Not something she appreciated, clothes weren’t always cheap and there were not eternally repairable. But at least he was trying to hold himself back and not destroy her clothes.

Most of the time.

Still, as surprising as it sounded, Yami had some art knowledge. He just didn’t care most of the time. But maybe he would see that this dress was a true work of art. And that it suited her. Hopefully.

When Charlotte finally put her ball gown on, she realized that it fit her perfectly. The bodice lied perfectly on her, but without feeling suffocating, underlining her frame perfectly. As for the skirt, it really flowed around her practically like a giant rose and the dress didn’t felt as heavy as when she hold in her arms, compared to wearing it.

Soie Velours and Lin had the most admirative glances when she finally appeared from behind the paravent.

The modiste said with a knowing smile, “That dress, which I decide to call Black Rose, is truly a masterpiece. But if I’m being honest, lady Charlotte… I think it’s actually you who accentuate this dress and not the other way around. It wouldn’t have the same effect on someone else. Well, of course not, it was made especially for you, after all.”

“You look like a true princess.”

Lins little awe compliment made Charlotte blush and she offered him her brightest smile. This was after all true admiration and not superficial flattery.

But before she could even reply, a little bell was heard. A little system Charlotte came to know during the days she was on duty here. When a new customer entered, even those who were in the atelier, in one of the offices or working in one of the private salons could hear it. Very practical when it happened that no one was in the shop, which apparently already happened before.

“Lin, my dear boy, would you please go see who it is and maybe, help poor Camilla and Iris if it’s a terrible noble lady? Thank you. And lady Charlotte, if you wanna get a better look at yourself, there’s a mirror behind you.“

While Lin left the private Salon of the Roseleis immediately, Charlotte turned around to take a look in the mirror, probably the largest mirror she ever saw.

Usually when she had to wear something elegant because of reasons, Charlotte usually didn’t recognized herself when she looked in a mirror. But in this case and despite her non-existent sense of fashion, she had no difficulties to see herself. And the dress was not even blue, her most usual colour.

She wondered if it was because it was the first time she wear a dress from Soie Velours, a modiste who built her reputation upon the fact of knowing exactly what people should wear to be look at her best.

Or is it because for the first time, she didn’t wear blue, but decided to wear the colours of the man she loved?

She turned again and now, she even see better in the reflection how much it looked like a big black rose with golden dew.

“You truly breath taking, lady Charlotte. You’re certainly going to be one of the true stars of this upcoming ball.”

Oh, yes. The ball…

She actually forgot it for a moment, given the how the dress amazed her. But this ball was also the reason why she got that dress in the first place.

And given what this ball was implying… Oh, she wished she could forget this again, but Charlotte just couldn’t. Not with everything that’s going to play that night.

The nearer the ball way, the more upsetting aunt Rosamund became and her endless talks about that betrothal with lord Reginald Évantail. It was now such a pain that Charlotte really wondered if Rosamund had something else in mind than just marry of her niece, the most eligible member of house Roselei, to someone who already had been married five times before.

But if there was indeed some conspiracy between Rosamund and Reginald, for what reason? What was the goal? Should she trust her feelings or her guts, like Yami said? Or was she just imagining things? It was true that with this ball and her secret relationship with Yami, she might get a bit worried more than she should. She would fight for him, to be with him and she was also scared to lose him in any way possible.

Charlotte remembered the coded letter they had found during their mission in the Common Realm, with Sol, Asta and Finral. She really hoped it was something that could help them put a hold on whoever was behind those thievery acts. As if the kingdom didn’t had enough to deal with since two years.

Charlotte found it frustrating because it was such a mystery still. They had no idea about the reasons, who could be behind it and assuming things in precipitation rarely lead to the right conclusions.

Not to mention this whole ball. How was it related to the thievery in the Common Realm? Was it really related? Charlotte was not sure, maybe it was only a coincidence. But given how nobility demanded it soon after the thievery acts started and given that in the background, that ball was that specific ball to trap innocent people into some betrothal behind their backs. In the past, it had been obvious, now it’s more subtle.

Which was somewhat worse.

“Miss Velours?”

“Yes, lady Charlotte?”

“Do… do you actually know… what this ball is implying?”

“Oh, that it’s basically a trap for trappy engagements? Yes, I do know that.”

Charlotte turned towards Soie Velours, very surprised by how casually she said those words. But the modiste just shrugged. “I learned about the Three Leaves Glory ball through history books, not the so-called official ones. I was a still a young apprentice back then and since I had to deal with nobles for this kind of business, I had to learn how nobility was ticking. History books, observations while making myself invisible, that kind of stuff. If you want to be successful in your business, you have to know how you customers tick in any, really any way possible, individually and in general. Why do you think I became this successful as a modiste? I had a lot to deal with, to came where I am today. Trust me, it wasn’t easy, even more so since I’m a commoner working in the Noble Realm.”

“So… you know-“

“That there’s something fishy with this ball, yes. I’m not an idiot and that fishy is something I really despise, trust me. But I’m also a business woman, responsible for many workers and indirectly also of their families and even more, I’m also responsible for my nephew. If I refuse to sold and sew dresses every time something fishy or an occurrence I don’t like shows up, all I can do is closing my business. As a business woman, I have learned to compromise in order to achieve all of this. To achieve my dream. Compromises aren’t so bad if they’re done right.”

Soie Velours sighed, looking more serious in a personal way than she ever was. “This atelier, this shop, creating dresses in any way possible… It was my dream since I was a little girl. It’s now also my nephews dream and I choose my workers not only for their craftmanship on this domain, but also because of how much they love what they do, what they create, what they’re realizing. No matter of their backgrounds, I’m also ready to welcome some nobles if they want to work here. I don’t want to give up on that. And besides,” a smug glimmer appeared in Soies green eyes, “in a way, I can also fight against unfairness in society with my shop and my dresses, even though I’m not a Magic Knight. I’m worthless against devils or terrorist groups, of course. But against bigot nobles who want to have more what they deserve, I’m weak to think that I’m rather an expert.“

Charlotte had come to appreciate Soie Velours during the mission for her. But after that speech, she came to respect her deeply.

Soie Velours might not be a Magic Knight, but that didn’t make her less a warrior in her own ways. A strong and independent woman with a business, which in a way was more to just to create pretty dresses.

“Thank you, Miss Velours.”

“Oh, no need to thank me, lady Charlotte. I’m sure you also one of those who need to be cautious during this ball of traps, given the odious rumours I heard about your future marriage.”

“Indeed, especially since I have a secret-“

Charlotte immediately put her hand on her mouth, afraid to have already said too much. She still didn’t want that her relationship with Yami would spread like wildfire in every circle. At least, not before the ball.

But Soie just smiled smugly and kindly. “Oh, you also have a secret lover who isn’t a noble, am I right? Goodness, is this a trend these days, to fall truly in love with someone from not the same circle? Well, if it is, I hope this trend never goes away.”

Charlotte frowned at those strange words. But before she could ask, Lin entered the private Salon again.

“Auntie, it’s lord Nozels secret lover, miss V… Oh, oopsie daisy.“

Lin Velours immediately put both his hands on his mouth, as he realized that Charlotte was still here.

His aunt gave him an affectionate scolding glance, but Charlotte understood immediately what all of this was implying.

So, Nozel had a secret lover as well. Someone who was neither a noble nor another royal. Charlotte smiled. He who was always so strict and loved discipline, allowed himself finally some happiness.

And if she understood correctly, Nozels beloved didn’t had any private salon to have some calm to try her dress. But was she able to afford such a ball gown?

Maybe she was another Magic Knight. Or maybe Nozel would pay for her, maybe he even opened an account here for his beloved.

“Miss Velours?”

“Yes, lady Charlotte?”

“You can tell Nozels beloved that she can use the Roseleis private Salon to try her dress on. Given that I’m in a similar situation, I won’t spill her secret in any way and I would love to support her.“

“You have a really noble heart, lady Charlotte. Come, Lin, let’s tell lord Nozels girlfriend to follow us here.“

As aunt and nephew left the room, Charlotte turned back to the mirror, but not really to admire her dress again. Her thoughts were now focused on who Nozel fell in love with.

Nozel wasn’t the easiest person to be around. But as a captain, he had some qualities that would be also welcomed as a lover. He was loyal, true to his words and even though it was only subtle in appearance, deep down he was also a very caring man. His beloved certainly was lucky to be with him.

Maybe he was more open with her, whoever she was? Lin almost spilled her name, starting with a V. Veronique, Virginia, Valérie, Valentina, Victoria, Vivian, Violet, Venus, Verena, Valencia, Verona, Verity? There were a lot of possibilities of names with V. It reminded her of her dolls when she was a very little girl and searching for the most rare names for them.

Her train of thoughts was interrupted when the door opened again, revealing Soie Velours, her nephew and…

“Vanessa?”

“Oh, hello captain Charlotte. Thanks a lot for letting me use your private Salon. Oh my gosh, that dress looks dashing. I didn’t know that black was as much your colour as blue, it really suits you!”

“Wait… you… you’re…”

♣♣♣

“You’re Nozels secret lover?”

Vanessa immediately stopped to be in awe of captain Charlottes gorgeous black dress, as surprise and shock washed over her.

How did the captain of the Blue Roses know? Well, not really know, since her exclamation was definitely a question. But did she know that Nozel was secretly in love with someone out of his circles. Captain Charlotte was clever and not as dense as captain Yami. She might have saw some things and conclude others.

“Forgive my nephew, Vanessa,” Soie said with a sorry smile. “He half spilled the beans not even five minutes ago.”

Lin stood behind his aunt, timidly poking his two fingers against one another. Oh, he was so adorable and he certainly didn’t mean it bad.

His aunt continued, “But lady Charlotte is a kind hearted person, so she offered you private Salon of the Roseleis. And if we spilled some beans already, she also did it as a fellow who also has a secret lover.”

Wait, what?

“So, Lin and I will bring you your ball gown. We’ll be back in a minute.”

Aunt and nephew left, leaving Vanessa alone with the captain of the Blue Roses. A few seconds, there was some awkward silence between the two women.

Until Charlotte actually moved, taking Vanessas hand and leading to the couch, for her to sit down.

Vanessa was grateful for the gesture, because a lot of thoughts were currently racing in her mind. Captain Charlotte just learned about her and Nozel. And Vanessa understood Soie Velours’ words correctly, it would also mean that…

“Are you and captain Yami finally together?”

“My goodness, is it so obvious that we have to be a thing?”

“To be perfectly honest… yes. Only idiots and dense people would be unable to see the signs. And… I was right next to you when you confessed to captain Yami back in Spade, remember?”

“Oh, Heavens… I haven’t thought about that confession for a while,” Charlotte moaned, hiding her face behind her hands.

Well, Vanessa hasn’t thought about it for quite some time as well. The thing that first came to her mind every time she remembered Spade, was her very first talk with Nozel.

How everything between them started then…

But captain Charlottes confession to captain Yami in Spade also had somehow an impact on herself. Vanessa remembered that by hearing this desperate I love you, she finally realized and admitted that she had never been in love with her captain. That her lost duckling crush on Yami had actually disappeared a very long time ago.

She had a lot of thinking to do back then, which was why she had searched for a quiet place to think peacefully about her new realizations. To think, to decide to take her love life in a new direction, without delusions of a crush that she shouldn’t had cling into it in the first place.

And then, Nozel came to her spot.

Without his cold mask, looking more vulnerable and human to her, like she never dared to imagine before.

And probably without realizing it, Vanessas decision to take her love life onto a new path was already put into motion that day.

Looking at captain Charlotte, who still hiding her face with her hands, Vanessa believed that back in Spade, it was not only the start of what was between her and Nozel. But also between Charlotte and Yami.

What a small world…

“Since when are you and captain Yami a thing?”

“A thing? For a bit more than one month at this point.”

“Oh, same here for Nozel and me. And you kept the secret, even to us Bulls?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but we wanted some peace before telling anyone. And with everything going on the kingdom… the ball, the boldness of nobles and everything that implied all those things… Yami and I thought it was better to keep it a secret at first.”

“Does anyone know?”

“Except you? Puli and Églantine, two of my knights, and Luck. But those three find out due to… reasons that I rather not explain further.”

Vanessa grinned. Given the deep blush on captain Charlottes face, Luck and the two Blue Roses must have surprised the two captains in a very sensual position. Kinda reminded Vanessa on how Noelle find out about Nozel and her, not so long ago.

“Oh, and my mother knows as well. She even gave us our blessing already.”

Ha, Vanessa always knew that auntie Dea was one of the best nobles in the whole kingdom of Clover!

“And does someone know about you and Nozel?” Charlotte asked, after taking a bit of her blush under control.

“Océane Vermillion knows, Nozels aunt. And besides Soie Velours and her nephew, it’s only Noelle. But in her case, she stumbled on us while we were… in a very sensual position and it took her some time to calm down from the shock.”

“Poor girl.”

Vanessa smiled, but it didn’t last long, as a more serious topic came to her mind. “We kept it a secret for similar reasons than you and captain Yami. Nobles are very determined to marry one of their own to Nozel. And learned recently that some noble ladies called Prudence Évantail and Athénaïs Vitrail are considered the top candidates for his future wife.”

Charlotte made a face at the sound of those names, which made Vanessa grin for a second.

“And… his father seems very determined to marry him of. He was the one who spread those rumours about Nozel wanting to get engaged during this ball and getting married shortly after. It’s not true, of course. But Nozel and I… we want to fight to be together, that goes without doubts. But there are heavy hurdles on this way.”

“I get that,” Charlotte said softly, before taking Vanessas hand again. It was a very comforting touch. “Lac Silva… Is not someone to take lightly, no matter how much you despise him. I don’t know the story between him and the Silva siblings, but I understand that there’s a big shift between them. And… I can’t say the details, it’s not my secret specifically and it’s very disgusting to think about. But Lac Silva had insulted my mother in way that I just can’t have any respect for him.”

Gosh, what did that jerk of Lac Silva did to auntie Dea? Vanessa was very close to ask, but given Charlottes stiff glance in her eyes, she preferred to hold back.

Besides, captain Charlotte continued, “As for Nozels situation with the kinds of lady Prudence and lady Athénaïs, I also can relate. You have to know, somehow I ended up being the most eligible match of house Roselei, despite my curse. The members of my house are trying very hard to find a suitable fiancé for me. Especially my aunt Rosamund.”

“The one who is more shambolic than me? Auntie Dea told me about her during her first visit at the Hideout.”

“If only she could be as shambolic by trying to marry me of. But sadly, Rosamund is stubborn and determined to a point that even being sick with the highest temperature can’t stop her for trying to get what she wants. And for some reason I still ignore, she seems to have only one specific lord in mind to be my future husband. But… lord Reginald is old enough to be either my father or my grandfather and he has been married five times before. He has children from each on his marriages and still wants to find a wife number 6. Which shall be me, according to Rosamund.”

“That’s sounds fucked up.”

“I wouldn’t choose such a crude word, but it’s fitting, I admit. Not to mention that lord Reginald is also the father of lady Prudence. But I don’t remember anymore if she’s a daughter from his first wife or from the second one.”

“Another Évantail?”

“Their family tree is pretty chaotic. Sometimes nephews and nieces happened to be older than their uncles and aunts, for example.“

Vanessa hold her snicker back. This was just so ridiculous. And this were JUST the legitimized Évantails. If they would add Grenadine and any other potential bastard to the bunch, it would surely be more complicated than it already was.

Nobles were for the most part really either complicated, stupid or arrogant, if not a mix of those three words and others.

Thank goodness there exceptions like Finesse, auntie Dea and Océane, Nozels adorable Vermillion aunt.

Speaking of…

“Do you and captain Yami have some plans to avoid the traps during the ball?”

“You mean except holding Yami and probably also myself back to beat up any of my suitors, because this would have consequences and it wouldn’t really help us in the end?”

“Oh, I can relate to that,” Vanessa chuckled, remembering how close she had been to slap Prudence Évantail and Athénaïs Vitrail because of how they talked about Nozel. But maybe it was also good that she didn’t slapped them. Yet.

Charlotte smiled, before continuing with a serious voice, “Honestly, I’m quite unsure. Even Yami isn’t that laidback about this whole ordeal. But he’s still more laidback than I am. My mother told me to avoid any of my suitors as much as I can and to listen between the lines, in case they invite me for that betrothal waltz.”

“Auntie Dea is right, this is already something to do. Nozels auntie, Océane Vermillion, also suggested us to only dance with each other, not with anyone else. Not only would it avoid any hidden betrothal with other nobles but at the same time, giving a clear message to the nobles and especially Lac Silva. Probably also to Prudence Évantail and Athénaïs Vitrail.”

“So… you want to come out of secrecy?”

“More or less, it won’t such a big announcement with trumpets and all the drama. But Nozel is sick of secrets of any kind and the more we are together, the more I see that he doesn’t want to hide me. It’s not like we were extra cautious before, but we were still pretty secretive. And given everything I learned about him since Spade… I understand that. And… I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I don’t know if I can fit into this life, of being a royal. It seems rather scary. But I can’t let insecurities be stronger than what I feel for Nozel.”

“I understand, Vanessa. Yami and I would love to come out of secrecy as well. We just… Well, we quite enjoy the peace we have now, but once we’re out in the open, the storm will 

come onto us. And I’m not talking about nobility only, but also about you Black Bulls. No offense.”

“None taken. You’re right, after all. We Black Bulls are nice people, but we tend to get a bit to wild, it doesn’t matter if we feel insulted or if we’re excited. Especially since my comrades are going to be overprotective over you against our captain, most certainly. Gosh, I haven’t thought how the Bulls are going to react to Nozel and me!”

She indeed hasn’t thought about that. At least, barely. The Black Bulls would indeed have the shock of their lives. Vanessa liked to think that at least half of them wouldn’t make too much of a drama. But the other half… and given Noelles past… Oh shoot, not only the Black Bulls would be shocked, but Nebra and Solid as well! Okay, with how she was today, Nebra might take it kinda good. But Solid maybe not so much.

Nozel might rubbed off on her, because now she almost started to overthink just like him.

“I’m actually glad that Noelle already knows about Nozel and me. She’s a bit like our biggest supporter today.”

“That’s good to know.”

Both women went silent, each of them lost in their thoughts.

Vanessa observed Charlotte. She wondered if the colour of her dress was a way to honour Yami. Black with some trimmer of gold, it was practically the colours of the Black Bulls. A bit like she choose Silva typical colours for her dress.

That dress truly suited her. Her porcelain skin was practically radiant against the black silk. Vanessa really hoped that captain Yami would at least be in awe once he would see captain Charlotte and that he would SHOW it for once. In her own case, Vanessa knew already that Nozel would show his appreciation. Hopefully he would love the dress.

Suddenly, an idea popped in her head.

“Wanna make a deal, captain Charlotte?”

“What? What kind of deal do you mean?”

“Just to support each other and our boyfriends during the ball, in any way possible. We’re kinda in the same boat with our love lives. So, why not support each other? Both our couples are going to need every help they can get in this situation, don’t you think?”

Charlotte hesitated just for not even one second before a bright smile appeared on her lips. “Agree, let’s help each other.”

“Pinky oath?”

“Pinky oath, if you insist.”

Soie Velours and her little nephew entered the private salon just when Vanessa and Charlotte let go of their pinky fingers.

“Sorry for the wait, lady Adelheid Sandler made a real fuss about one little embroidery on her Winter Apple dress,” Soie laughed, before opening a box right in front of Vanessa. “And here, lady witch of the Black Bull squad, is the masterpiece created especially for you.”

A purple dress came out of the box, professionally hold by both aunt and nephew. Vanessa was immediately amazed by her new dress.

“For this particular gown, we have opted for a sheath shape, which will not only accenting your gorgeous frame, but will also flow freely and gracefully around you. Unusual for the sheath, the shoulders are free with just a small, flowing ringlet of fabric around your upper arms, which you won’t even notice. We choose satin as the fabric, for its particular shine, as you can see here. Please notice how the satin slowly becomes more transparent starting from the knees. The transparency will not be fully, only subtle, but enough to show your legs in a small, timidly naughty way. Adding a bit of transparency is not an easy task with satin, since it’s not a fabric used for this kind of work, unlike chiffon, fine silk or georgette. But it is possible for my nephew and me, since we have fabric magic and learned how to do the most impossible things in our craftmanship with our magic. As you ordered, the main colour is a bright and metallic purple, adding more to the shine of the satin. Observe also those silver embroidery which delicately go around the bodice and the skirt, starting from your right shoulder and ending at the bottom left of your dress, without covering them and hiding the beautiful metallic purple. Those embroideries have the form of vines, covered with frost thanks to the silver threads. You may have noticed all those little rose blossoms scattered on the silver vine embroideries. Some in an immaculate white, the others in the palest pink possible. A bit of silver had been added on them as well, to give a subtle illusion of frost and winter. My dear nephew gave this dress the name of Rose In Winter, as a little delicacy. You certainly want to try it on, Vanessa dear, you can go behind the paravent.”

“This is the most beautiful dress I ever saw,” Vanessa whispered in awe, while taking her ball gown delicately from Soie and Lin. “I have no words, I… It definitely will inspire me for my own future needlework!”

“And this is the kind of compliment a dressmaker always loves to hear,” Soie Velours said with pride while Vanessa disappeared behind the paravent.

It was not difficult to put the dress on. In fact, it was pretty easy. But Vanessa had to stop every ten second to admire the shine of the satin, the subtle transparency, the white and pale pink roses, the silver embroidery, the softness of the fabric, just everything…

When Vanessa finally appeared from behind the paravent wearing her flowy dress, Lin Velours looked at her in awe, while Charlotte smiled with admiration, still wearing her own ball gown, and Soie Velours nodded with pride.

“Another masterpiece, indeed. Please, Vanessa, come admire you in the mirror.”

Seeing herself in the mirror was something else indeed. Vanessa was amazed how perfectly this dress fitted her and she couldn’t wait to see Nozels reaction seeing her like this, like a true princess.

Despite the fact that this ball was all bad news, there were still some things for Vanessa to look forward to. And that was somehow comforting.

After a while of silent admiration, Soie Velours spoke up again, “Ah, before I forgot, there is something else for you, for the upcoming ball.”

And from behind her back, she handed both Charlotte and Vanessa two little boxes. It looked like jewellery boxes or something, but Vanessa didn’t know enough about jewellery of nobles and royals to call herself an expert.

Charlotte took a closer look at hers, frowning. “But… I can’t remember to have ordered-“

“Oh, it’s not from you, lady Charlotte. Even though it is for you. But your mother, lady Orchidea, brought it to us earlier today. I think she had it ordered by one of the finest jewellers in the kingdom the moment she learned what you wanted for your dress.”

Vanessa couldn’t help but smile. Auntie Dea was definitely more than a good mother for Charlotte.

The captain of the Blue Roses still frowned, but opened the box still.

A diadem was in it. A golden diadem in the shape of thorny vines, with black gems, probably obsidians. Even better, those obsidians were formed in a way to look like roses. A black rose to the fullest.

“Oh… it’s… I…”

“Can I put it on your head, lady Charlotte?” Lin timidly asked. “It would be like to crown you.”

“Well, then crown me, little one.”

With a smile, Charlotte went softly on her knees to let Lin put the diadem on her head, doing it even like a professional.

Vanessa smiled at this adorable image – Charlotte Roselei would do a good mother as well, just like auntie Dea – before she focused on her box and opened it.

There was also a diadem, a small but also a very ancient one. Only that it was silver and the shape looked like leaves and water drops. The gemstones were probably crystals, in the palest shades of purple, pink and blue, also white.

Silver, purple, pink, blue, white… Some typical Silva colours.

The gems were also formed into flowers, but strangely enough not like roses, but like water lilies. The favourite flowers of lady Acier…

Vanessas eyes widened. Could this be a Silva diadem that once belonged to Acier Silva?

There was a little letter in the box and Vanessa quickly to took it read.

Dearest future niece-in-law

I suppose that miss Soie Velours gave this box to you once you have your surely breath taking ball gown. I wanna see Nozels face once you wear it.

This diadem belonged to my late sister, lady Acier Silva. I’m sure my dear nephew told you once that those were her favourite flowers. She wore that diadem on her wedding and when there was an occasion, she put it on her head again. It was her favourite jewellery and she didn’t lots of those. In her will, she stated that Nozel should have it until he gets married and gave it to his beloved.

I know you and Nozel aren’t married yet, but at this point it’s only a matter of time. Still, my nephew wanted you to have it now, not only for the ball, and I agree with him. You deserve to have it and from now on, this diadem is yours. Consider this as a gift from Nozel and from my dear sister, who would have loved you. It might not fit entirely with your dress, but I think this doesn’t matter, given the symbolism of this diadem.

Océane Vermillion, né Océane Silva.

Tears of joy filled Vanessas eyes. Nozel actually gifted her something that belonged to his mother, something of great emotional value. This was worth more than the silver and gems.

When Vanessa put the diadem on her head, she had the feeling for a second that it was Acier Silva who placed it delicately, as if she was giving Nozel and Vanessa her blessing from the afterlife.

[dadbodosamu]

what’s my name? [daddy]

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem reader

WARNINGS: cheating, pseudoincest (stepdad/daughter), spanking, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is freshly 18), daddy kink, spit kink, breeding kink

2.8k words. unbeta’d and vaguely edited

part one || part two || part three

“I can walk,” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder. It’s your last year of high school, you’re an adult now, freshly eighteen, you can walk yourself to school, damn it.

“Let me drive ya,” Osamu says, grabbing the keys to his car. “Ya won’t let me make ya lunch anymore, let me at least drive ya to school. We can stop and get breakfast.”

“I can walk, Osamu,” you say, glaring at the older man.

Osamu stops dead in his tracks. “What was that? What did ya just call me?”

You scoff, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “You’re not my dad and I’m not a kid anymore.”

You grab the door handle but before you can open it, Osamu has you spun around, facing him. His face is dark and the grip he has on your wrist is bruising.

“O-Osamu, you’re hurting me,” you whimper, trying, and failing, to pull your wrist from his iron grip.

“There ya go again,” he says. He tuts and shakes his head. “Go sit on the couch. I have to make a few calls real quick.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, so you walk across the living room with all the shame of a scolded puppy.

Osamu is already speaking by the time you sit on the soft couch.

“Hi, this is Miya Osamu, Hanamiya Y/n’s father. She’s feeling a little under the weather today, so she won’t be able to make it in.” Osamu says. He pauses for a moment. “I’ll be around to pick her work up sometimes this afternoon, thank ya. Ya have a good day.”

Before you can speak, Osamu is calling another number.

“Hey, it’s Osamu. Y/n is sick today, so I need ya to watch over the restaurant. Call if there’s an emergency,” Osamu says. He hangs up quickly, and dials yet another number. “Hey, {mother’s name}, Y/n is feeling a bit bad so I’m going to stay home with her today.” He pauses. “It’s no problem, stay at work. If she gets worse I’ll take her to the doctor.” You can barely hear your mother on the other side of the phone, but you hear her small ‘I love you’. “Yeah, I’ll see ya after work.”

Hearing him so clearly dismiss your mother has you seething. You almost want to throw something at him as he hangs up.

“You’re such a dick,” you say as he walks towards you. “You don’t care about her at all. Fuck you.”

Osamu laughs as he sits in the chair next to the couch you’re on. “Fuck me? Oh, no, little girl. I’m gonna make ya regret those words. Come here.”

“Fuck you,” you repeat, crossing your arms.

“I’ll give ya until the count of three,” Osamu says. “One.” You don’t move. His face darkens. “Two. I’m not kidding, little girl. Come here. Now.”

His voice is more serious than you’ve ever heard it. A shiver runs up your spine as you stand without a second thought. You take a few steps until you’re standing directly in front of him.

“Good girl,” he praises. The words roll off his tongue like honey, and, unwittingly, your pussy throbs. “Now, bend over my lap.”

You nearly laugh. “No way, there’s no way. I’m not a child.”

“One.”

You’re bent over his lap before he gets to two.

“See, ya can listen,” Osamu says. His hand runs over your too short school skirt, flattening it down.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation. You can’t remember the last time anyone had you bent over their lap, much less Osamu, who preferred other punishments.

“Osamu, please, I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He lands a heavy hit across your ass, his large hand catching both cheeks.

You let out a loud cry as you jerk forward.

“That again,” Osamu says, shaking his head. “Ya know that hurts my feelings, little girl? Calling me by my name? Like I didn’t raise ya. Now, tell me why ya decided to hurt daddy’s feelings like that?”

Tears burn at your eyes. “I-I hate you!” You cry, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Osamu tuts and lands another heavy handed slap on your ass. “And why is that, little girl? Tell daddy what’s wrong.” He rubs your burning bum soothingly.

“Y-you’re mean to mom!” You sob. “An-and I hate you for it, Miya Osamu!”

Two consecutive slaps land on either cheek and you hiccup a sob.

“That’s where yer wrong, baby girl,” Osamu says, once again rubbing soothing circles on your bum. “Me an’ yer mom had an agreement. It’s not my fault if she gets her feelin’s hurt. She hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

You open your mouth to speak but cry out instead as Osamu spanks you three more times in quick succession.

“An’ anyway, that’s adult business,” Osamu adds. “No place for a little girl’s nose.”

“Osamu, it hurts,” you whine, squirming around on his lap. You freeze when you feel something hard poking against your stomach.

“There we go again,” Osamu sighs. He spanks you no less than five times, each harder than the last. Your body shakes from your sobs.

“Daddy, please!” You cry, tears and snot covering your face. “Please, I’m sorry!”

“There we go,” Osamu says, smiling widely. “That’s my good girl. What’s my name, again, sweetheart?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, sniffling. You rub your face with your sleeve as Osamu rearranges your body so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Daddy’s sorry for spanking ya, sweetheart. I know how my little girl gets sometimes,” he says, hugging you to his broad chest. “Ya get so bratty, daddy just can’t help himself.”

“‘m sorry, daddy,” you sniffle. You can’t help be be acutely aware of Osamu’s hard erection pressing against your sore ass. “D-Daddy, your...”

“What is it, baby girl?” Osamu asks, gently pulling you down, pressing his cock further into your plush ass.

You hiss in pain. “It-it hurts,” you moan.

Truth be told, it hurt so good. Each slap against your ass had your pussy clenching around nothing and now that you knew Osamu was clearly turned on... well it was making your heart beat faster.

“Want daddy to make ya feel better?” Osamu asks. He thrusts his hips smoothly, grinding his cock against your pussy.

You think about your mom. How heartbroken she would be if she found out about this and how your relationship would never be the same.

Osamu’s lips attach to the base of your neck and thoughts of your mother melt away.

“Daddy,” you moan, rolling your hips to feel more of him. “Daddy, please, I wanna feel better.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Osamu mumbled against your skin. “Daddy’s gonna make ya feel better, okay? Daddy’s gonna make everything better.”

Osamu lifts you easily. You wrap your arms and legs around him as he carries you to your room. You try not to think of the bedroom right across from yours that he shares with your mother.

Osamu tosses you on your bed and you immediately reach out for him.

“Wan’ you,” you whine, your hands grabbing at nothing.

Osamu pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room before climbing on top of you.

���My little girl is so needy for daddy’s cock, eh?” Osamu asks, rocking his hips against yours. You moan and wrap your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair.

“Daddy, want your cock so bad,” you moan. He pulls back, drawing a long whine from your lips.

“Stop whining,” he orders. Long fingers come up to your shirt buttons, nimble as they unbutton each pearly white button, exposing the peach-coloured bra you were wearing.

Your cheeks burn, suddenly wishing you’d chosen matching underwear this morning, or at least something more mature.

“So cute,” Osamu coos, throwing your shirt away. “Yer so adorable, baby girl.” Osamu pushes your bra up over your breasts and leans down. He gently takes your left nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue against it as he teases the other with his fingers.

“Daddy,” you moan, clenching your fingers in his hair. He pinches your nipple and grazes his teeth over the other.

“Cute little nipples,” he mumbles, leaning up and tugging on both nipples one last time. He presses a kiss between your breasts and trailed down, leaving soft kisses down your stomach until he reaches the hem of your skirt. He looks up at you.

You nod. “Please, daddy. I-I want you.” Osamu makes quick work of your skirt and pink panties.

He kneels between your legs, spreading them wide. “Look at ya, such a pretty pussy.”

Osamu arranged your bodies until he was comfortably facing your cunt. “I could just eat ya up, baby girl.”

“Daddy, I want you to touch me, please!” You cry as he teasingly runs his fingers through your wet folds.

“I am, baby,” he says, smirking wickedly.

“More! Want you to really touch me, daddy!” You say, impatiently bucking your hips up against his hand.

“Settle down, baby,” Osamu says, pushing your hips against the bed with his free hand. “Daddy’ll make ya feel real good, darlin’.”

Before you could say anything, Osamu rubs his thumb in a circle over your clit. Your words get lost in a moan. Your head falls back against your pillow as Osamu leans down. He presses a soft kiss against your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Samu!” You cry, back arching off the bed as he inserted a single, long finger in your cunt, all the while suckling at your clit.

He landed a sharp slap to your thigh without pulling away. He adds another finger roughly.

“What’s my name, little girl?” He asks. He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly.

“Daddy,” you whimper as he licks deep into your cunt.

“Good girl,” he praises before leaning back down. He scissors his fingers, slowly stretching your walls. He ate you out in earnest, switching between slurping up your juices and suckling on your clit.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, gripping the sheets below you.

“Cum on my tongue, sweetheart,” Osamu says, pulling his fingers out. He rubs figure-8s over your clit and fucks his tongue in and out of your throbbing heat.

“Daddy!” You cry as your orgasm hits you. You cum hard, juices squirting on Osamu's face. He continues rubbing your clit until you start squirming from overstimulation. When he looks up at you, his eyes are dark and his chin is covered with your cum.

“Tastes so good, baby girl,” he says, crawling over you. He grabs your chin and kisses you roughly, not even letting you attempt a fight for dominance.

The taste of yourself on his lips has you thrusting your hips up, eager for more.

“So impatient,” Osamu tuts. He grabs your chin again. “So you’ll take anything daddy gives ya, right, baby girl?”

You nod, desperately waiting for something, anything.

“Open yer mouth,” he orders. Your mouth falls open without a second thought.

You can see Osamu gathering spit in his mouth and you let your tongue loll out in excitement.

“My baby is so desperate,” Osamu coos. “Ya want daddy’s spit that bad, baby?”

You let out a pitiful whine and squeeze his forearm.

You moan when his spit finally hits your tongue. Your eyes close as you savour it for just a moment before swallowing.

“That’s my good girl, swallowing before I even tell ya too,” Osamu praises. “Tell me what ya want, sweetie.”

“I wan’ you,” you whine. You tangle your fingers in the back of his hair and pull him into a brutal, sloppy kiss. “Fuck me, daddy, please.”

Osamu pulls away from you, breathing heavily, lips swollen and eyes dark. He quickly kicks his sweat pants down and off the bed.

“Come on, use yer words,” he says. “What do ya really want, baby?” He uses one hand to trace his cock along your slit, teasing your clit and clenching hole.

“Want your cock in me, daddy,” you say, hooking your right leg around his waist, pulling his hips down to meet yours. “Please, I want it so bad.”

You bite your lip as your eyes burn.

“Aw, is baby gonna cry for daddy’s cock?” Osamu teases. He pushes the fat head of his cock past your folds. You moan loudly.

“Please,” you moan. “Want more.”

Osamu pulls your right leg up and over his shoulder and inches his cock in your wet heat. He moans lowly.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby girl,” he says. Your eyes water as his fat cock burns as he slowly stretches your walls out. “Fuck, look how well yer taking me, baby.”

You glance down to where your skin melds together. You let out a low whine once you realise he’s barely halfway in.

“More, more,” you whimper, rolling your hips up. Every movement has him hitting another spot in you that has you clenching around him.

“Gonna take it all? Gonna be my good girl and take my cock?” He grunts as he pushes deeper. By the time he bottoms out, the head of his cock is pressing against your cervix and your thighs are shaking from the stretch.

“Oh, daddy,” you sigh as he stills. He’s stretching you in a way no one has before, and the burn just adds to the pleasure.

“Yer so fuckin’ full of me,” Osamu says, marvelling at the bulge in your lower stomach. He presses down on it lightly. He moans. “Gonna fill ya up real good, baby. Gonna make ya swollen with my seed.”

“Move,” you moan. “Want you to fill me up, daddy.”

Osamu pulls out slowly. He tosses your other leg over his shoulder and grabs your hips tightly.

“Oh, baby, yer not ready for me,” Osamu smirks. Before you can ask what he means, his hips pound against your ass, his cock going even deeper than before. A moan rips from your lips.

“Daddy!” You call, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Osamu doesn’t slow as his fingers meet your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in small circles. Your walls clench around him as your first orgasm hits you suddenly.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum on daddy’s cock,” Osamu says. His hips and fingers don’t slow down as you gush around his cock. His pace seems that much more brutal with your overstimulation.

“Hurts,” you choke out. Your thighs tremble as Osamu continues his bruising pace.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Osamu says. “Yer such a good girl for me, darling.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as another orgasm racks your body.

Osamu’s eyes roll back as your walls milk his cock.

“Good girl,” Osamu rumbled. “Creaming around my cock so well.”

You cry as Osamu speeds up.

“S-so good, daddy,” you sob as he grabs your legs and spreads them wide. You cry harder as he fucks into your cervix. “Fill me up, please, daddy! Want you to breed me!”

“‘m gonna fuck ya so full of my cum,” Osamu grunts, pounding into you slower and deeper. “Gonna knock ya up. Ya want daddy to get you pregnant, huh? Wanna be swollen with daddy’s seed?” You nearly bite your tongue nodding.

“Want your cum, daddy,” you whine as your legs start to ache. A high-pitched whine fills the room as you cum yet again.

“Fuck,” Osamu swears, his pace speeding up again. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart.”

His cock twitches inside you.

“Please, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, breed me! Want your baby. Want your cum, need your cum! Please, fill me up, daddy!” You babble uncontrollably as Osamu’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu moans as he paints your insides white.

One last orgasm hits you as you milk his cock.

“Daddy,” you breathe as his cum fills you up. “So good.”

“Yer such a good girl, sweetheart,” Osamu says. He pulls out slowly.

“No, no,” you whine, clenching around nothing. “Want you to stay in me. Don’t wanna lose daddy’s cum.”

“It’s okay, baby, daddy’ll fill ya up over and over again,” Osamu says. He moves until his arms are wrapped tightly around you and you’re laid across his chest.

He hums with satisfaction as you trace your fingers across his chest.

“Ya were such a good girl, darling. Took my cock so well,” Osamu praised. “Yer daddy’s best girl.”

“Better than your other girls?” You ask.

“Yer the only girl I care about, sweetheart,” Osamu says. “I love ya, little girl.”

“I love you, too, daddy,” you mumble. You yawn.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before you fall asleep, baby,” Osamu says. He easily carries you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the water.

You frown as you catch sight of your mother’s robe and reality hits you.

“Oh, god,” you whisper. You look down at Osamu’s cum leaking out all over your thighs. “Oh my god.”

“What is it, sweetie?” Osamu asks.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you mumble, covering your mouth. “Mom’s gonna hate me.”

Oh, she’s really going to hate you in three months, when a small bump forms between your hips and you refuse to admit who the father is. Osamu’s smug face whenever it’s mentioned doesn’t miss you.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x alkemi Reader - Strange Truths

A/n: This was so fun to do and me being an Alkemi really was happy with this request! Thank you! I'm so sorry it took so long though!

Warnings: None? Needles?

Request: ok ok so i have an idea- a kaz brekker x alkemi reader where kaz accidentally drinks one of the reader's newest chemical (prolly cause jesper slipped it into his drink) and it makes him super flustered and vv talkative and the reader has to keep him in their lab until they can finish the antidote and kaz tells the reader he likes them right after he takes the antidote so the reader realizes he's actually serious-

I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or you!

Most people underestimated alkemi's but once they did it once they would not do it again. Kaz Brekker knew that alkemi's could just be as dangerous as a squaller all the way to a shadow or sun summoner if they were powerful enough. To be fair, very few were that powerful but most could kill you slowly and far worse than a heartrender so...

But you were a very powerful alkmei- one of the most powerful to ever live and that was why you are part of the crows. You can fight just fine, but the dregs had seemed to be getting very creative with their ways of killing to getting information and this was all thanks to you.

Though not all appreciated your talents.

Nina has grown up thinking that the alkemi's were weak was a part of those few, Inej just didn't understand you, Jesper understood but was still trying to come to terms with his own Grisha powers, Wylan thought you were amazing and Matthias was just flat out scared.

But that all changed when one day you poisoned a whole army.

Oh, Kaz was just... Happy? No one really knew, but sometimes he just seemed a bit more satisfied about how things were going with you around. Unfortunately for you, that meant he had to spend a bit more time around you trying to come up with more ideas. And that would have been just fine if it weren't for the fact that you were falling helplessly in love with Dirtyhands.

Ya, fuck.

Lately, you had been conjuring up something new in that lab of yours in the basement of the Slat. It was almost like a truth potion but not quite, it was to make it easier to get information out of its victims but not enough to notice.

Officially it was finished and you were going to go tell Kaz but you realized today everyone was going to be at the Crow Club. Just your luck that you hated socializing.

You sigh but you quickly grab the elixir and start running to the Club. Being late to a meeting was never really your foreté.

Finding finally the Crows even with the sea of people around you spot them when you meet Kaz's eyes. Of course, you had to meet his eyes. You go and sit down beside him as everyone had already decided on their drinks.

"Y/n's getting them this time since she's late!" Jesper grins in triumph as you just roll your eyes. It doesn't matter you guessed he was almost always going to be the one late so you figured it wouldn't matter if you had done it this one time. Besides, it would give the sharpshooter (and his boyfriend) a break for once.

Getting up from your seat you walk towards the bar and ask for everyone's drinks. He hands you them and you talk to the bartender as you walk back towards the group.

"I'm your waiter for one time only, don't get used to it."

Kaz just clears his throat and starts talking about a plan that's really in reality just a decoy because of Inej's intel there would be Dime Lion spies in the Crow Club today.

And why not take that to your advantage?

Suddenly Kaz stops talking and you lift an eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and the others just shrug their shoulders and start a different conversation.

For a bit, you do engage in conversation with the other Crows but Kaz just seemed different? Like he was trying not to burst out talking or something?

"Dirtyhands, you good?"

Instantly his face flushed a bright pink and he stutters out;

"Ya-ya fine. Totally fine, everything's good. Go back to whatever I guess. Just leave me alone and do your work you shouldn't have even asked, so can you please-" He cut himself off and flushed (what you didn't even know was possible) red even brighter.

What the- You always called Kaz Dirtyhands as more as a nickname than a mean term almost like a term of endearment. Although he didn't know that he never had even blinked when you used the little nickname more than necessary so why was he now?

Also to add to that fact, was that you really never called him Kaz. It was mostly to keep yourself in check so you didn't get used to him too much. It was more like reminding yourself that you both weren't on a first-name basis even if you already were.

Narrowing your eyes, you can see that his pupils are slightly dilated and that he's bitting down on his tongue really hard to stop himself from talking. This wasn't just Kaz Brekker flustered, there was something else going on here. And you had to figure at fast before the Dime Lion spies did, or if they already had.

"Brekker, I need to you answer me honestly okay?" You lower your voice and you soften your tone like you would with your targets to get information out of them. You didn't like doing it, but it was the price to pay for his safety.

He just bobs his head up and down trying not to say anything.

"What have you ingested today?"

"Just the drink. Not anything else, being that I forg-" He cuts himself off from his whisper-rant covering his hand over his mouth.

"You haven't eaten today!" Accidently you raise your voice and the anger and concern shine through your usual stone-cold tone.

Kaz widens his eyes and gives you a look to shut the fuck up. He was still the Bastard of The Barrel after all.

Wait, now that you think about it...

You reach into your pocket for your newly brewed elixir and when you take it out it almost confirms it for you.

The lid is open.

Oh, fuck maybe it's better not to cure Kaz because you might just die after this.

It all made sense now though; talkative, flustered, overused & exaggerated facial expressions, looseness of the tongue. Those were all symptoms and you hadn't even noticed.

Well... At least you knew it worked and it was effective. Very effective... Fucking hell Kaz really is going to kill you now.

Grabbing onto his coat sleeve (being extra careful not to touch his skin) you drag him out of the crow club away from the prying eyes of everyone and the shouts of 'what the hell!' From your friends.

Quickly you drag him to the basement of the Slat where all your potions, bombs, machines, elixirs, poisons and most importantly supplies are.

"You can sit there." You point at a chair in the back of the room that basically had a view of everything.

"You better make me an antidote or I swear to-"

You cut him off before he says something he'll regret later. "Go sit your ass down Dirtyhands and let the real Grisha do their magic."

He flushes again and walks over to the chair but not without muttering under his breath how Grisha cannot do magic. And how their abilities work and etc.

By the saints! Now you really didn't want to reverse that chemical elixir, he just sounded really cute. But who the fuck are you kidding? This is Kaz Brekker we're talking about and you just thought of him as cute.

Welp, this is getting interesting.

Quickly you mix some ingredients together trying really hard to go as swift as you can. No one could see Brekker like this it would kill his reputation.

You look down at the antidote and you curse under your breath. This was going to need a needle. Oh fuck, you might as well just die right there.

Hurrying over to your cabinet you quickly go through the vials wondering what size you would need till you found the perfect one. It wasn't very big, and because it was fabrikator made he wouldn't even feel a pinch. But at the same time, it would hold your elixir even if it was a very tiny vial.

"Brekker, your gonna have to put your arm up for me."

You don't turn around knowing that this probably could be your death right here in your lab. At least Kaz Brekker will kill you so at least that's memorable. You sigh, Kaz Brekkers Alkemi was killed by Dirtyhands himself.

"Why?" Most of the time Kaz would just raise his eyebrow at you but because of the fun chemicals that he had in his body that was not the case.

"You might want to roll up your sleeve as well." You say nervously turning around so the needle was visible.

"Because I'm going to have to use a syringe."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

You slowly walk over and you shake your head.

"Sleeves up."

Kas just grumbles while putting his sleeves up you can tell he's uncomfortable. Now looking back at it you didn't really know how many barrel rats have had needles before, and if they did it probably wasn't good.

"What's your favourite colour?"

He snaps his eyes to meet yours and that's the moment you press the needle in his skin.

As you thought before he didn't flinch but he looked like he wanted to kill you with that stare but his eyes seem to soften with your worried stance.

"It didn't hurt did it?"

Kaz just shakes his head and you sigh in relief. "There shouldn't be any after-effects but I might just check in to see just in case."

He's almost out the door when he stops just at the entrance.

"Your eyes."

You whip your head around to meet his dark eyes.

"What?"

Slowly he comes away from the door frame advancing on you and he shakily takes off a glove and presses his hand against your cheek.

"You asked me what my favourite colour was."

You have convinced yourself that at this moment you have stopped breathing. Nothing else matters but you two of you in this room. The feeling of his hand on your cheek sends butterflies everywhere in you. And you can't stop to think about how beautiful and terrifying those brown nearly black eyes are.

"Boss!" There's a shout from upstairs and he quickly pulls away putting his glove back on.

"So I'll be seeing you around Brekker?"

He rolls his eyes. "You know you can call me Kaz right?"

You laugh as you herd him through the door knowing that he has business to attend to.

"But I think you much prefer when I call you Dirtyhands."

The blush spreads across his cheeks albeit not as strong this time but at least you know it's not from one of your elixirs.

"Only you Y/n only you."

Words 1799

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”

[reawritesthings]

Stand By You | Rafe Cameron

gif by @rudypankows

you agree to a family dinner with the cameron’s, when ward boasts about his daughter and not your boyfriend, you finally stand up for rafe.

requested: by @drewstarkey!! ( this was originally something she requested for the 100 ways, but i decided to do it into an imagine)

a/n: im not the best writer but i just thought this could be a cute little imagine for you all. I take requests if you any of you are interested, but i understand if you don’t sksks.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You always avoided attending the glamorous Cameron family dinners, and Rafe completely agreed. From the stories he told you, it was definitely not something you could sit through. You could barely sit through a whole forty five minutes of keeping up with the Kardashians; Wheezie’s favourite.

Being Rafe’s girlfriend was a lot of work. It definitely wasn’t a walk in the park. A lot has happened regarding Rafe’s weed addiction and Ward almost kicking him out, he needed you more than ever.

“Babe..” He hummed whilst playing with your hair.

You looked up at him, staring into his blue eyes.

“I know you always say no to this but since you love me very mu-” You rolled your eyes, sitting up as you knew what exactly he was asking you. “Yes, I’ll go to dinner, which is tonight I believe?” You laughed pointing towards the fridge with recipes that Rose had out.

“How did you even know i would ask you that?” Rafe questioned.

“Rose made me clean the cutlery before you decided to wake up. She even made me be her advisor on what dress to wear. Plus, judging by the fridge full of recipes, it wasn’t a hard guess.”

Rafe was amazed, he didn’t even think he knew your family as well as you did his.

“God, that just turned me on.” Rafe smirked, connecting your face with his but you pulled away.

“It’s almost three and you haven’t changed. I need to ask Sarah for an outfit and make a good first impression.” You chuckled, getting up from the sofa stretching out your limbs before the mayhem begins.

“I’ll see you soon, baby. If you need me to help you with the zipper, let me know.” You winked, turning away to find Wheezie shaking her head at the two of you.

“Gross.” She groaned opening the fridge.

“Don’t you have to get ready?” You asked her, placing one hand on your hip.

“Don’t you have a zipper to fix?” She imitated you, even placing her hand on her own hip.

“Wheezie.” Rafe spoke, walking up to her.

“Fine, I’ll go get ready.” Wheezie moaned as she dragged herself away from the kitchen.

“About the zipper….” Rafe whispered but you walked away too, leaving a very frustrated Rafe to fend for himself.

-

Getting ready for an event like this wasn’t your favourite. It wasn’t you, you didn’t like putting on makeup or dresses just to cover up the drama that goes on inside these walls. Rose peeking her head through the spare bedroom every five minutes wasn’t exactly helping you either.

The creamy fabric of the silk dress fit nicely on your shoulders, hugging your body like a tight embrace. The colour of the dress matched your eyes, and as you turned over to check the back you noticed your boyfriend standing there, mouth open.

“How’s it goi- you look beautiful.” Rafe swallowed his pride as he noticed how your figure stood out in the dress.

Rafe never really tried to make you blush this much, but it was his raspy voice that always got your cheeks burning. Planting a small kiss on your cheek, you turned around giving one back on his lips.

“And you clean up nicely.” You chuckled as Rafe fiddled with his sleeves.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, shoving him off you as you tried to find your earrings.

Rafe nodded. He didn’t exactly have the best relationship with his father right now, and hosting a family dinner certainly wasn’t exactly the greatest redemption. But, that’s the Cameron’s.

“Dad still isn’t getting off my case about me smoking. And that I ruined some stupid business contract.” Rafe huffed, searching for something to press his anger on.

“Baby, breathe. Just ignore your dad for the night. There’s going to be like, over a hundred people here and I’m sure he will be too busy boasting about Sarah. We can hang back with Wheezie…” You chuckled as you saw her figure enter the room.

“No you won’t. I have a reputation to hand out. Plus, Mum wants us down in exactly thirty seconds or we won’t get dessert.” Wheezie threatened, looking over at Rafe who knew that was a legitimate reason to go downstairs.

“Why do we have to go downstairs? It’s not even 7?” You questioned as Rafe pushed you out of the room, closing the door behind you.

“After this, I’ll need a drink.” Rafe whispered in your ear and you rolled your eyes at how dramatic he could be.

“Listen up, Cameron’s and Y/N. Best behaviour, best manners and always be elegant. Y/N since it’s your first dinner with the family, a few little rules.” Rose cleared her throat, taking out the list she hid in her dress.

You looked at Rafe with a look, even Wheezie shook her head too.

“No kissing, no flirting, try not to start any drama and when eating, you start outwards and go in.” Rose sternly looked at you, she wasn’t playing and neither was Ward who was examining the whiskey.

“Who had some whiskey?” Ward spoke, looking directly at the both of you.

“Who do you think?” Rafe spoke, rolling his eyes as he was the only one who would drink at this time.

“How many times have I told you not to fucking drink? Especially my own whiskey. It’s like you want me to kick you out.” Ward roared causing Wheezie to cling onto your hand, which you gripped firmly.

As Rafe was about to defend himself, you opened your mouth immediately regretting.

“Stop being so hard on him, he just had a little sip and I had the rest. You never scream at Sarah when she’s drinking, and she’s what? 16?”

Rafe and Sarah's eyes widened, so did Rose’s, but Wheezie gave you a thumbs up.

“Watch your mouth, girl. You don’t speak to me like that, one more word out of your mouth you aren’t welcome here.” Ward threatened looking at Rafe to make sure he got the same warning.

The awkwardness had now invaded the room, you didn’t even know what to say, but the touch of Rafe’s hand squeezing around yours made you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Let’s just get this dinner over and done with.” Rose stuttered, walking out of the room to finish setting up the dining table.

As everyone made their way out, you and Rafe were left behind. When the door shut, you turned to Rafe but was taken back by his lips attacking yours.

You quickly pulled away, wanting to apologise for what had happened. “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that but he makes me so angry.”

Rafe shook his head making sure the strand of your hair was tucked nicely behind your ear.

“It’s okay, but baby.. try not to start something tonight. No matter how much you want to strangle him, let’s get through this dinner and I can finally rip that dress off you.” He smirked opening the door, leading you to a dinner party you won’t forget.

-

It wasn’t too bad, there were a lot of people but you were quite happy staying at the back with Wheezie whilst Rafe was mingling with his family.

“How come you aren’t talking to your cousins?” You asked Wheezie who was tapping away on her phone which you took out of her hand.

“Because they are lame and I’d rather hang back here with you, than be with them.” Wheezie whined looking up at you but you just responded with a laugh.

You and Wheezie had an odd friendship, she would often refer to you as Buzz Lightyear and she was Woody.

“I’m flattered.. but, your mother has been staring at us for exactly five minutes. Let’s mingle with the commoners. How about later, we steal the cake and watch a movie?” You negotiated with her, knowing cake always ends up winning.

Wheezie nodded holding your hand as she directed you towards her cousins, not letting go of your hand.

-

“This is delicious, Rose. How did you make these potatoes so cheesy?” One of the aunties said, taking a sip of wine.

“Cheese?” Wheezie laughed looking at Rose who gave her a glare.

“Funny one you got there.” The aunty mimicked, but Rose just gripped onto her fork hoping no one would see.

“Did I tell you that Sarah is now applying at the top schools in NYC? She even has a scholarship.” Ward beamed at his daughter who frankly couldn’t care less, but for her mother she just smiled.

Before anyone could congratulate Sarah, Ward again, had something to say. “Also, Wheezie has gotten straight A’s in all her subjects. How did I get so lucky?”

Every word that Ward spat out, made the flames inside you burn. Every time he boasted about his daughters and ignoring Rafe, made you want to add more fuel to the fire. Your fist began to clench and Rafe quickly noticed, placing his palm over top but that didn’t stop your rage.

“I almost forg-“ Ward was taken back by the sound of your chair creaking back made everyone’s attention divert to your body.

“Anything you like to say, Y/N?” Ward faked a smile looking over at Rafe.

“As matter of fact, I do. You do realise that you have a son too? A son that tries so hard to make you see him as a human being and not a disgrace. He has worked so hard to get you to value him like you value Sarah. He’s made mistakes but he is human, he may have gotten into smoking weed, but you can’t talk, you’ve done worse. Rafe is just as clever as Sarah and Wheezie are, you may not see it and don’t believe in him, but I do!” You shouted as you noticed a lot of crumbs on your plate.

Ward was boiling, his veins we’re slowly appearing and that was never a good sign. You looked down at Rafe, but he didn’t meet your gaze.

“Rafe, take your girlfriend out of here now.” Ward sneered through his teeth as he grabbed onto the plate, gripping on tight.

Rafe nodded, pulling you harshly away from the table, escorting you towards the garden.

He was mad, you could tell from the eye contact and how tight he was grabbing your wrist. “Rafe, I’m sor-“

He cut you off, “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? Why couldn’t you just let him praise my sisters and leave it at that? He’s going to kill me now.” Rafe signed, pulling his hair as he didn’t know what to do in this situation.

“How can you stand there and just let him degrade you like that? He was acting as if you weren't even there? You are just as clever as they are. I hate when he treats you like this Rafe, I fucking hate it.” You screamed kicking the swan floaty away from the pool.

“I know, baby. But, you just have to get used to it.. I have.”

“I hate how he treats you… you deserve a better father.” You whispered not wanting Rafe to see the tears that boiled up in your eyes.

Rafe shook his head, lifting your chin up as he pushed away the hair from your face. “I love you, and I’m fucking glad to call you my girlfriend.” He smiled, softly kissing your lips as you slowly moved back to make more space between you both.

The kiss deepened, his hands were firmly tight on your bum as he lightly gripped it causing you to chuckle.

“Your family is inside.. they can see.” You whispered through the kiss but Rafe didn’t care, he was already embarrassed enough. As Rafe took a step closer to you, cupping your cheeks, your shoes got caught in the flare of your dress causing you to fall into the pool.

“Rafe!!” You screamed swimming up to the surface, looking at him whilst he was laughing his head off.

“Are you okay baby?” Rafe laughed, ripping off his suit jacket and jumping in causing the water to splash against the window.

“We are in so much trouble….” You giggled, looking over at the window as you saw someone pull the door open.

Wheezie.

“Can I join?” she asked looking at the two of you.

Rafe nodded, holding out his arms so Wheezie could jump in

“I hope you never break up with her, Rafe. She’s the best sister I ever had.” Wheezie complimented you, as she pulled you into a tight hug.

“What about Sarah?”

“Eh, she’s alright.” Wheezie scoffed, embracing you into a bigger hug that Rafe suddenly ruined.

You may have lost all privileges from the Cameron’s household but in this moment, you didn’t even care. You were happy that you stood up for your boyfriend, and extremely happy that Wheezie finally accepted you. It was definitely a night to remember, and you couldn’t wait until the next one.

If you get invited…

masterlist | TAGLIST

[leejeongz]

first kiss with CIX

requested: yes, by anon

🔅thanks for requesting! i hope you like it 🥺 i’m so sorry it took so long, i wanted to take my time with it hehe🔅

a/n- from now on, i am not going to add gifs to reactions. i am aware that some gifs creators aren’t happy when people use them and so i don’t want to fuel their anger anymore as i can completely understand their point.

💙bx:

even though he was your boyfriend, you’d still never been to byounggon’s apartment. you’d always pictured what it would look like. probably lots of clothes, lots of colour, maybe some abstract art on the wall. he was always eager for you to come over but you didn’t want to intrude or overstay your welcome. plus you hadn’t been dating for that long and it just didn’t feel right yet.

“i’m going into town to pick up some stuff for lunch” you replied to byounggon’s whiney message asking what you were doing today.

“can’t you come over instead? i miss you” he replied in an instant. he must be bored, you thought, wrapping your favourite scarf around your neck and heading out.

you were closer to the shops than to your house when you felt a few droplets of rain splash onto your head, followed by many more. “a bit of rain never hurt anyone” you thought, continuing to walk. some time passed, your walking pace had gotten slower, your nose has gotten redder, and byounggon had gotten more anxious thinking you could be out there, catching a cold. a single clash of thunder and you were straight on the phone to your boyfriend. “okay i’ll come over now” you blurted out, half joking half not. he asked many times again and again just to confirm that you were indeed, coming over and until every sense of a joke had disappeared.

you arrived at his apartment looking like a drowned rat.

“cute” he patted your dripping wet hair as you entered. “there’s some clothes on the sofa” he shouted to you while shutting the door “you can change in the bathroom if you like. there’s a towel on the radiator too.”

you cautiously picked up the clothes and walked gingerly to his bathroom. while in there, you realised you didn’t even take in your surroundings, did it look like you’d imagined? you’d never imagined the toilet before so you couldn’t really say at this point but-. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of speakers crackling.

you went to see what the awful noise was, luckily you’d gotten dressed by this point but that didn’t even cross your mind.

“even cuter” he said, turning from his “music corner” to face you looking all cozy and warm in his oversized hoodie and sweats. you walked closer to him to see what song he was playing, it sounded familiar and less crackly than before.as you got closer his arms stretched out. the sleeves of his black hoodie covered his hands, which he soon pulled out to rest on your waist.

“can i kiss you?” he asked politely in a soft voice. you shyly nodded at him in response.

you leaned in and your lips met. his lips were a little chapped and yours weren’t in the best state either because of the weather, but it was definitely something you never wanted to forget. he didn’t rush it, but it wasn’t too slow either, it was filled with love and care. usually you’d curse the rain for ruining your plans, but today was an exception.

💛seunghun:

you weren’t even dating yet, but jfc everyone knew you would be soon. somehow you’d become friends with the popular guy, the one who sat with the IT girls for lunch, the one who could always be seen at festivals and concerts at the weekend, the one who everyone wanted to be with. it all started when you exchanged disgusted looks across the classroom when some delinquent said they ate banana on pizza, and from then, many snaps were sent, many seating plans were changed because he was “getting distracted” and he’d even started sitting with you and your friends some days for lunch, which the popular clique weren’t too impressed about.

you’d never been to his house before but that was about to change. you arrived at his front door and were greeted by two rather large dogs barking and a panicked seunghun. he hurried you upstairs since he gathered they could be pretty scary when you meet them for the first time. you sat on the edge of his bed after being told to make yourself comfortable.

here” he handed you his gaming controller “pick something to watch” you were quite relieved that he wasn’t going to make you play some weird game that you knew you’d lose at. instead you put on white chicks, which you had both seen numerous times before.

it wasn’t long before you both had gotten bored of the film and your phone battery was just a tiny red slither. footsie had been played countless times but you were enjoying each other’s company so you didn’t wanna announce that you were bored. before you knew it, seunghun had snatched your phone from your hands “i’ll charge it for you” he said, plugging it in.

there was nothing left to do other than mess with your nails. seunghun rolled onto his side and looked at you for a second before asking you “have you kissed many guys?” it was abrupt and you probably thought his intentions weren’t in the right place, but he couldn’t help what just came out of his mouth.

“a few” you responded. you picked at your nailed some more, staring at them like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “have you kissed many people?” you retaliated.

“some” he responded, rolling back onto his back. “do you maybe-“ this time he stopped to think before continuing “want one? from me i mean.”

you smiled to yourself before turning to face him. “sure”.

it didn’t last very long, his right hand was on your cheek while your left hand naturally found its way to the back of his neck. your cheeks were definitely bright red, but his temperature indicated that he was probably the same.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that for” he smiled, pulling away. “so is this our first date?” he asked outright

“do you want it to be?” you avoided the question, making him answer it. you definitely wanted it to be, but whatever you said you knew he’d tease you.

“no i thought i’d just kiss you as a friend” he rolled his eyes, going in for another.

🤍yonghee:

three dates in and you were pretty sure that you liked him, and that he liked you back. he’d taken you to his favourite cafe without even realising it was your favourite too, he’d taken you to a art gallery which was a pretty big deal, you thought, and you’d just finished your date at the park. you packed away all the empty boxes into your picnic basket to throw away when you got home and he helped, brushing hands occasionally which made your heart go crazy every time.

“this was really nice, i’m glad the weather didn’t change” he chucked, bringing his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. he looked at you for a reaction but you just smiled, not even looking in his direction. “you do feel the same way, right?” he asked, bewildered by your silence.

you finally glanced up at him “yes i do” it was quite formal looking back but at least you told him.

“then why the shyness?” he asked, almost saddened by your sudden change in character.

“because i didn’t wanna come off as too… much” you said. “i didn’t want you to see me go beetroot red either like now but here we are” you laughed, getting back to your normal self to get rid of the awkwardness.

“you’re so cute” he cooed whilechuckling, moving his arms to balance himself while he leaned over to give you a gentle kiss.

you didn’t fight it. it’s what you wanted since day one. but you were nervous and it was unexpected, you didn’t want him to think you weren’t enjoying it but you barely moved.

“was that too much?” he pulled back slowly, slightly embarrassed.

“no” you replied softly with an unmovable smile on your face. you looked back over to him, he had one eye shut and the other was squinting. you moved your head to block the sun and smiled widely at him. “can we do that again?” you asked innocently.

“please” he laughed a little, leaning in once again. this time you lead the kiss, proving to him that you felt the same way as him. his hand slowly made its way to your waist. you jumped slightly which made him smile into the kiss. your stomach flipped every time you realised what was going on and you were getting more flustered by the second, but of course yonghee found it adorable and it made him smile even more.

🖤jinyoung:

it was very rare that you and jinyoung got free time together, alone. you’re not even sure if you’d had any since getting together. you always had work to do or exams to prepare for or family matters to deal with. he was always dancing or studying or with his family too. you made do with the little time you had together but it always left you both wanting to share more intimate moments. you could only do so much on facetime.

“why aren’t you at school?” he asked in response to you showing up on screen in your bed. “are you sick? do you want me to come over? oh god are you skipping school?! i mean that’s cool but we all know… you lack… ya know… brain cells. you need to be there babe,” he joked while waiting for an answer.

“first of all, my lack of brain cells has nothing on my lack of taste when it comes to men. second of all, my school is closed because the heating is broken and it’s like -200°C. do you want us all to freeze to death?” you retaliated sarcastically.

“ideally” he replied, setting his phone down on the desk while he put a hoodie over his tshirt.

“well i was going to say you could come over since i’m home alone all day but i don’t think I want you to anymore” you fake sulked even though he couldn’t see you.

“no i’m getting ready now you don’t have a choice” he announced, picking his phone back up and heading outside of his shared accommodation.

he arrived at your door in no time.

“did you run?” you asked, watching him stagger his way up your driveway panting like a dog.

“no” he obviously lied. “well yes” he confessed “but only so i could do this”. he put his ice cold hands on your cheeks and started to lean in.

“the neighbours” you pushed him away slightly, pointing to all the houses on your street.

“fuck your neighbours, have they had to wait 600 years to kiss their girl/boyfriend?” with that, your lips finally collided. you soon forgot about the idea that people were watching and became fully immersed in the kiss. you’d wanted to make the move for so long, if you knew he was okay with an audience you would have done it in front of your friends.

it was the longest kiss either of you had ever had, undeniably the best too. it was innocent, yet hungry. passionate and sincere but hasty. everything you expected it to be and more.

💜hyunsuk:

not a single day passed where you didn’t think about kissing hyunsuk, but every time you tried, you always chickened out. it was the same whenever he tried to either. the mood was never right, you wanted to remember the kiss yet he’d always spring it on you at the most random times, that’s why you always pulled back or pushed him away.

today you were cleaning out some of your old make up, most of it had passed its use by date, some just wasn’t your style anymore and the rest you were gonna keep. hyunsuk being hyunsuk just wanted to be around you, so he came over and watched while messing in every little item on your desk.

“what about this?” you asked, holding up a sealed lip tint, knowing he wasn’t really paying attention to you.

“yeah that’s nice” he replied dismissively. you shook your head and threw the lip tint into the space you’d made on the floor for stuff to give to your friends.

“hey, why throw it there? i said it was nice,” he questioned. you were a little taken back, was he actually listening?

“when have you ever seen me wear that shade?” you retorted. you stared at his face intently before coming up with a fun plan. “i think it will look nice on you though, actually, can i put some on for you?” by this point, you’d embodied the pleading face emoji, he wasn’t gonna say no to that.

“only if i can put some on you after” you nodded, he’d forget about that anyway, you thought. he picked up the lip tint and passed it to you. you stood in front of him and puckered to show him what to do. he followed and you applied it gently. you hated to admit it but it did look really good on him, even though you’d only said it as a mindless joke.

“all done” you said, turning him on your chair to face the mirror.

“hmm pretty!” he spun back around to face you who was still crouched at his height so you could admire it even more. to your surprise, he grabbed your face and pulled it towards his. he planted one sticky peck on your lips before looking to see the mess he’d created. “not enough” he whispered to himself before returning his lips back to yours for longer this time. it was more intense. he seemed to throw himself into this one a bit more, and so did you. your lips moved together instinctively and your hands found their way over his shoulders while his steadied you are your hips.

“that was our first kiss, you know?” you asked once he’d pulled away and giggled a bit.

“wait really?” his eyes went wide and his hands were quickly removed from your sides. “i’m sorry, i got caught up in the moment, i hope it was okay” he rambled.

“it was perfect” you smiled “now here” you handed him a make up wipe “we can do it again after you’ve got that sticky mess from around your lips, okay?”

[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

[massivedrickhead]

bechloe tattoo shop au? Beca gives Chloe a tattoo?

So I’ve had this prompt in my inbox forever. I started writing it last year not long after I got my tattoo but it wasn’t going anywhere so I kinda gave up on it. But I just started watching Ink Master and I had to finish this prompt. 

It’s kind of pointless but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and now I’ve written it I might as well share it.

I also gave Beca loads of tattoos because I’m high-key attracted to the idea of a heavily tatted Beca

Read on AO3

------

“Hi,” Chloe said, approaching the reception desk at Titanium Tattoos and Piercings. There was a blonde woman sitting behind the desk, spinning on her chair.

“What’s up?” She asked, with a heavy Australian accent. 

“I have a consultation appointment,” Chloe said. 

“Cool, what’s your name?” The woman asked, looking down at her computer.

“Chloe Beale,” Chloe said.

The woman nodded. “You’re meeting with Beca?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“She’s in with a client right now, why don’t you take a seat and she’ll be out soon. My name is Fat Amy, give me a shout if you need anything.” Amy said, gesturing over to a collection of couches. 

Chloe nodded and took a seat, her eyes roaming over the art that was hung around the room. She recognised a lot of it from Instagram, and she knew Beca was responsible for most.

Chloe waited for another 10 minutes before Beca came out, followed by a very pale looking man. 

“Okay Jesse,” Beca said, patting him on the shoulder, “keep it clean, no swimming for a few weeks,  and when it starts healing don’t pick it.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “Follow these instructions and take care of it yeah? If you get it infected it makes me look like a jackass.”

Jesse laughed. “Thanks, Beca.”

“Go give Amy your money and give us a call if you have any questions or anything,” Beca said. She spotted Chloe waiting. “Chloe, right?��

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“Give me a couple of minutes to grab a drink and I’ll be with you. You want a coffee or anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Chloe said, watching Beca rush off to another room.

Chloe’s heart was pounding, and it was only partly due to nerves. Beca was cute. She had seen a picture of her on the tattoo shop’s Instagram but seeing her in person was something else.

Beca returned after a few minutes. “Chloe? Do you wanna follow me?” 

Chloe nodded and followed Beca into the shop. 

“Sorry I’m running a bit late,” Beca said. “My last guy got a bit lightheaded, we had to take a break.”

“No worries,” Chloe said.

Beca showed her into her room and asked her to take a seat.

“So, this is just a consultation, I’m not going to be sticking you with any needles today,” Beca said taking a seat next to her. “What is you’re wanting to get done?”

“I have a couple of reference photos,” Chloe said, pulling up her phone. “I want something kind of floral but a bit geometric too?” She handed Beca her phone who nodded and she swiped through the pictures. “And I also want to incorporate this ‘B’,” Chloe added, showing Beca a specific picture. 

“Okay, cool,” Beca said. She rolled her chair over to her desk in the corner and came back with a sketchbook and pencil. She started drawing as she spoke. “The B isn’t your partner’s initial is it?”

“No,” Chloe said, laughing. “I’m single.”

“Can I ask what it’s for?”

“Don’t laugh,” Chloe said. “But, um, I’m graduating from college next month, and this is the logo of the a cappella group I’m in.”

She saw the corners of Beca’s mouth twitch as she carried on drawing.

“That’s cute,” Beca said. 

Chloe laughed and felt herself blush slightly as she watched Beca draw. She was having a hard time focusing on anything else. Beca’s eye makeup was dark, her ears were pierced in several locations, and both arms had what looked like full sleeve tattoos.

She was distractingly attractive.

“You thinking colour or like black and grey?” Beca asked, glancing up.

“I was thinking black for the flowers and the shape, like kinda simplistic, not a lot of shading. But maybe we could do some colour in the logo?”

Beca nodded. “Awesome. Like the blue in this picture?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“Where did you want it?”

“My ribs,” Chloe said.

This time Beca looked up fully and stopped drawing. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“No,” Chloe said, pointing at her tiny ladybug on her wrist.

“Cute,” Beca said, laughing softly. She ran a hand through her hair. “You sure about getting it on your ribs? It hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure,” Chloe said, laughing. 

“Okay,” Beca said, grinning. “How big?” She moved closer and put her hands against Chloe’s ribs. “Like this?”

Chloe felt suddenly light headed. “Yeah,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual.

Beca nodded again. She turned her sketchbook over so Chloe could see and passed her phone back. 

“So I can do something like this. You’ve got the geometric diamond shape here and that contains the flowers, but they’re sort of breaking that barrier here,” Beca said, pointing out different aspects of her sketches. “And then we can put the ‘B’ in the flowers but maybe a bit concealed? To give it some like depth.”

Chloe knew she should be focusing on what Beca was telling her, but she was having a hard time focusing when Beca was this close.

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Chloe said, finally looking down at Beca’s sketches. “Exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Cool,” Beca said, grinning. “Can you send me that logo? I’m gonna draw up some more designs tonight.”

“Sure,” Chloe said. She airdropped Beca a picture of the logo. “I really love these designs, Beca. They’re perfect.”

“Thanks,” Beca said. “I’m glad you think so, you’re going to have this tattoo for a while.”

“So when can we do this?” Chloe asked, standing with Beca and heading back to the front of the shop.

“I might have some time tomorrow if you’re up for it?” Beca asked, heading behind the reception desk to check her schedule. 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Chloe said. “I’m free all day.”

Beca began typing into the computer. “How about 3pm?”

“Sounds great,” Chloe said, feeling a rush of nerves and excitement. She knew her tattoo was going to hurt like crazy, but somehow she was more nervous about having Beca’s hands on her body.

“Sweet,” Beca said grinning and typing into her computer. “So, I would recommend you don’t drink any alcohol tonight and please don’t drink any tomorrow. Make sure you eat too, I don’t want you passing out in my chair.”

“I don’t want that either,” Chloe said, laughing. 

—

Chloe arrived the next morning with a stomach full of butterflies but feeling excited. She was looking forward to seeing Beca again and she couldn’t wait to get her new tattoo, despite how much pain she was about to go through.

Beca called her through after she had been waiting for a couple of minutes.

“I usually take a girl for a drink before I ask this, but can you take your shirt off?” Beca asked.

Chloe laughed and pulled off her t-shirt, leaving her in just her bra. “Can I keep this on?” She asked, tugging at her strap.

“For now, yes,” Beca said. “Let’s get the design on there and see how it sits.”

Beca placed a piece of paper against Chloe’s ribs and applied the stencil of her design. When she peeled the paper away, a blue stencil remained.

“Have a look in the mirror,” Beca said. “Try it on for a bit while I get set up. Move your arm around, see how that’s going to affect the tattoo. Just make sure you’re 100% happy with it. Anything you wanna change or add we can do no problem right now.”

Chloe looked at the stencil in the mirror and did what Beca advised, twisting her arm and side, making sure it didn’t distort the tattoo in any weird way. 

She loved the design Beca had made, and she couldn’t wait to wear it.

“Happy?” Beca asked.

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “I love it.”

“Anything you want to change?” 

“Nope,” Chloe said, stilling grinning at the design in the reflection. 

“Okay, then let’s get started,” Beca said. She patted her chair which had been folded flat like a bed. As Beca pulled on a pair of black latex gloves, Chloe lay down on her side, her back to Beca’s chair. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, feeling her heart race as Beca placed her hands on her ribs.

“Here we go.”

Beca hadn’t been lying when she said the ribs hurt. Each line felt like a knife was being pulled slowly across her skin. 

“How’s it going?” Beca asked after about thirty minutes.

“Yeah it’s uh, it feels great,” Chloe said.

Beca laughed. “Liar.”

“It fucking hurts,” Chloe said, laughing lightly. 

“You need a break or anything you let me know, okay?” Beca said, wiping away some ink and blood.

“Will do,” Chloe said, clenching her hand as Beca carried on tattooing. 

“How come you picked this design?” Beca asked, eager to keep Chloe’s mind off the pain she was putting her through.

“I just really wanted a way to commemorate the Bellas,” Chloe said. “They’ve been my family for like the last four years. They gave me confidence and - ah fuck - and a support system. That last line really hurt.” Chloe laughed, feeling tears prick her eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Beca said. “We’re making progress though.”

“Good,” Chloe said. “What’s been your most painful tattoo?”

“My ribs for sure,” Beca said. “I had some big pieces planned for them but after I got some lyrics tattooed there I totally changed those plans. So if it makes you feel better, I think you’re metal as fuck right now.”

Chloe laughed again. “That does make me feel better.”

“Your next tattoo is gonna be way easier now,” Beca said. 

“My next one?”

“Yeah you’re gonna get the bug, trust me,” Beca said, wiping away some more ink and blood. “It hurts like a bitch but I kinda like it.”

Whatever Chloe had planned on saying disappeared as a string of expletives flew out of her mouth.

“Damn I did not expect that from you,” Beca said laughing. She could see Chloe gripping the side of chair. “You doing okay?”

“Mhm,” Chloe replied, jaw clenched.

“No you’re not,” Beca said, stopping her machine. “We’re taking a break.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said, letting out a slow breath. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll get you some water,” Beca said. She pulled off her gloves and dropped them in the trash. “If you wanna sit up wait until I’m back, okay?”

“I’m good down here,” Chloe said.

Beca left and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and a straw. She stretched her back out before heading back in.

“You still with me?” Beca asked.

“Sure am,” Chloe said.

Beca pulled her chair around so she was sat by Chloe’s head, and passed her the bottle and the straw. 

“Your bedside manner is excellent,” Chloe said, smiling as she took a drink.

“I just don’t want anyone having a bad experience in my shop,” Beca said. “Plus if you passed out I’m way too tiny to lift anyone off the ground. You ready to finish this bitch?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, drinking some more and then putting the bottle down.

“Awesome,” Beca said. She pulled on a new pair of gloves, pulled her chair back up to Chloe’s side, and started her machine back up. “We’re almost done with the line work now. Then it’s just some shading and some colour.”

“Cool,” Chloe said, thinking it still sounded like a lot to do. “So have you got any tattoos you regret?”

“Uh, not really. I mean I have some kinda shitty tattoos, but I think even bad tattoos tell a story,” Beca said. “I do have an ex-girlfriend’s name hidden under a cover-up though. That’s why I’ll always try and dissuade a client from getting their partner’s name on them.”

Chloe laughed. “Yeah I think that’s good advice. Is there anything you’ll just refuse to tattoo?”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said. “I won’t do any Nazi shit, or any other racist stuff. Nothing homophobic or anything like that. Like it’s just a straight up no, and once I know they want something like that I won’t tattoo anything else on them either.”

“That’s awesome,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, I don’t want bigot dollars,” Beca said. She stopped tattooing and wiped down the ink and blood again. “Okay the outline is done.”

“Thank god,” Chloe said, letting out a breath of relief. 

“You’re doing great,” Beca said. “Not much longer, I promise.”

As Beca carried on the tattoo, they carried on talking, each learning a little more about each other. 

Chloe learned that Beca also made music, and spent a few evenings a week DJing.

Beca learned that Chloe volunteered at an animal shelter, gaining experience for when she went to veterinary school in the fall.

After hours of tattooing, Chloe was finally done.

Beca helped her up, and Chloe admired her new tattoo in the mirror.

“Beca, it’s so awesome,” Chloe said, grinning. “I love it.”

“I’m really glad,” Beca said. “Can I take a quick pick for the Instagram before I get you wrapped up?”

“Yeah, of course,” Chloe said.

Beca took a few pictures and then cleaned and wrapped Chloe’s new tattoo, before handing her a sheet of paper on aftercare.

“Please take care of it. No scratching, no picking, no getting it dirty,” Beca said. “Follow these instructions and you’re gonna have a beautiful, nicely healed, tattoo in about a month.”

“Thank you so much, Beca. It’s exactly what I wanted, it’s perfect,” Chloe said.

“You are very welcome,” Beca said. “You sat like a champ. I’ve had grown men cry in my chair getting their ribs done, you did great.”

“So, um, what’s the deal on drinking now?” Chloe asked.

Beca laughed. “Give it 48 hours at least. This sounds gross but you’re gonna be bleeding and… oozing for the next couple of days, you don’t really want to thin your blood.”

“I can drink by Saturday then?” 

“Sure,” Beca said. “You got big plans?”

“No, I was just kinda hoping I could go on a date with this cute girl on Saturday,” Chloe said. Having survived her tattoo, she was suddenly feeling invincible.

“Sounds like a lucky girl,” Beca said. 

“Beca, would you like to come for a drink with me on Saturday?”

Beca couldn’t stop the grin that spread over her face. “I see. I’m the lucky girl?”

“You can be.”

“Sure,” Beca said. “It isn’t often I get asked out by clients after I put them through three hours of pain. Let’s do this.”

[offtopicoverload]

Get Lucky

so i totally forgot about this request from @renluthor for like. two months, terribly sorry, but i finally finished it lmao. bit different than what we had discussed, but i had a lot of fun with it and think it turned out decent enough, hope you enjoy it also idk how to tag on ao3, i hope this works fine

M Rating (still suck at rating, there's drinking and kissing so)

Zoey x MC (Bea)

~1700 words (still pretty short since i cant seem to get my word count up rn but im also not that fussed)

Read on Ao3

-

Bea Hughes stands in the middle of Belvoire’s quad on her first day at the school, staring down a snarling beast, some bitch named Poppy that’s really starting to get on her nerves. “You know what, Poppy?” she snarks, “I’m really going to enjoy tearing you down. Something tells me nobody likes you half as much as you like yourself.” She pauses, glancing around before her gaze lands on some frat bro, “Michael, how often does Poppy call you an idiot?”

He frowns, face downcast, “Every day. My therapist says it isn’t good to surround myself with people who bring me down, but my parents are friends with Poppy’s and -”

“Oh my god, nobody asked to be invited to your pity party, Michael!” Poppy shouts, effectively cutting him off with a stamp of her foot.

Bea’s scowl grows, “You know what nobody asked to be invited to? Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest. Death by migraine would be more pleasant.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest,” her eyes narrow at Bea dangerously, “But if you’d like a demonstration, by all means, be my guest of -”

“Hey Bea! Look at the time, we gotta go!” Someone takes hold of Bea’s wrist, tugging her along and away from the crowd, from Michael, and from Poppy and her glare. She’s pulled into a sprint across the lawn, running wildly until they’re inside a dorm and standing before some door.

“Wish the circumstances were different, but welcome to the Winfrey dorm complex, aka your new home!” The girl lets Bea’s wrist drop back to her side, gesturing widely with one hand as she fumbles to unlock the door with the other.

She finally succeeds, throwing the door open and ushering Bea inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Bea’s eyes immediately rove over the expensive decor and nice furniture of the huge dorm she’s somehow stumbled upon.

The girl collapses on a couch, kicking her feet up as she looks over to Bea, “So, you got out of that one alive. Barely,” she adds under her breath. “How are you feeling?”

Bea follows suit, slumping down on the opposite side, toying with the hem of her shirt distractedly. “Honestly, you’re gorgeous,” she shrugs, watching the fabric slide between her fingertips. She freezes, slowly glancing to Zoey, “...is what I was thinking, but did I just say it out loud?”

A laugh bursts from Zoey, her head falling back, “You did, and you’re absolutely, positively right. Not to mention easy on the eyes yourself,” she grins, winking at Bea, before sticking her hand out. “I’m Zoey Wade, your roomie,” she shakes Bea’s hand when their palms meet, “This right here is our dorm. Your room’s on the left, mine’s on the right.”

“Okay,” Bea responds abruptly, sinking into the cushions and crossing her arms beneath her chest. “Okay,” she repeats.

Zoey glances over to her, “Are you okay?”

Bea’s eyes flicker to her dark ones, “Yes. Yes, because I got lucky on the roommate front,” she smiles, albeit somewhat forced.

“That you did,” Zoey smiles right back. “In fact, I know the perfect place to get you off campus until the hype dies down.” she jumps to her feet, crossing to the front door before Bea can even react.

She scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping on the corner of the coffee table, “Wait!” Zoey spins as she swings the door open, winking before disappearing down the corner, Bea nearly sprinting to catch up.

---

An hour later, Bea and Zoey are sitting in a dim corner of a Soho speakeasy, soft music and conversation buzzing in the background. Half-drunk Manhattans sit before them, their own voices adding to the soft din of chatter flowing in the space.

“How’d you find this place?” Bea inquires curiously, her eyes scanning the building and its patrons. It’s cozy and warm, the inviting atmosphere a sharp contrast to Belvoire’s intimidating one.

“Connections,” Zoey’s shoulders rise in a nonchalant shrug, unbothered as she scrolls her phone.

“Whose?”

Zoey looks up from her phone, gaze meeting Bea’s as she smirks, “Can’t spill all my secrets on the first day, babe.”

“Why not?” Bea challenges, one eyebrow quirked.

Zoey’s phone is set face down on the table as she looks at Bea mysteriously, smiling secretively, “As sweet as you are, I always need a few cards up my sleeve.”

“How many you got?”

“I’ll never tell,” she winks, in what Bea is quickly learning to be her default.

“I thought the whole point of coming here was to learn more about each other, roomie,” Bea counters pointedly.

Zoey shakes her head, leaning back against the booth, “The point of coming here is avoiding the campus harpy that goes by the name of Poppy.”

“So you don’t want to get to know me? Or let me get to know you?”

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll tell you something.”

Bea just her bottom lip out in a pout, her eyes wide and innocent as she blinks up at Zoey. She only smiles coyly in return, drinking her cocktail as Bea deflates, sighing and slumping backwards.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” Zoey hums from the back of her throat.

Bea grins before schooling her expression into something flirtatious, “I’m hoping I’ll get luckier.”

Zoey laughs at that, just as loud and unrestrained as back in their dorm, “Nice try. At least buy me a drink first.”

“I’ll buy you the whole bar, how about that?”

“I’ll take another Manhattan for now,” Zoey laughs, sinking back into the booth as Bea jumps up, weaving through the speakeasy’s crowd to get back to the bar.

She returns a few minutes later, wiggling the drinks in her hands enticingly with a wide grin on her lips. She slides back into her seat, sipping her own bright coloured cocktail as she looks to Zoey.

“So what made you want to come to Belvoire? Long way from home, right?” Zoey plays with her drink, scraping a cherry off a toothpick with her front teeth.

Bea shrugs, “It’s a good school, and I thought it’d be fun to try something new… But now I’m mixed up in petty drama,” a sigh shifts her shoulders, Zoey stilling her absentminded fidgeting.

“Petty drama, maybe, but you’re making a name for yourself,” she nudges Bea with her elbow. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“So you don’t think I’m totally screwed?”

“Hmm,” one carefully manicured nail taps Zoey’s chin. “I give it ten to one odds,” she finally decides, smiling sweetly across the table.

Bea frowns, a dent forming between her brows as the girl across from her’s smile grows in amusement, “Those aren’t good odds.”

“But there’s still a chance. Look, I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem like the type to pull it off.”

“Seems like you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“And what if I was?”

“I guess I’d wonder if there was a reason for it.”

“Can’t a cute girl be reason enough?”

Bea lets her gaze rake over Zoey suggestively, “I suppose so.”

“See? You’re smart, you’ll be fine,” she encourages. “Probably.”

“Ugh,” with a groan, Bea’s head falls forward, forehead crashing against the table.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Zoey chastises above her, “No moping.”

Bea turns, her cheek pressing into the wood, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to dance,” Zoey announces, standing with her palms flat on the tabletop. She cocks her head at Bea expectantly, sauntering out to the dancefloor when Bea takes the hint, popping up and chasing behind her.

The dance floor's more crowded than anywhere else, couples and friend groups moving in unison to the beat thundering through the air. Zoey whirls around, dancing to the peppy song currently playing until Bea’s joined her, swinging her hips and throwing her arms about carelessly.

The song’s change, the crowd moves as one, and the pair spin and jump and whirl, Zoey taking Bea’s hands and twirling her until she’s laughing and dizzy. Time ticks past until they’re both breathless and sweaty, leaning against one another for support.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Zoey chuckles, her breath brushing Bea’s cheek, goosebumps breaking across her skin.

A grin breaks Bea’s lips too, relaxed and somewhat tired, “Right back atcha.”

Zoey throws her arm over Bea’s shoulders, fingers knitting behind her neck as she looks down at the shorter girl, her messy hair and gleaming eyes, her smudged lipstick and shining teeth. One hand retracts, the pad of her thumb swiping lightly beneath Bea’s lips, cleaning up the mess on her skin.

Bea’s breath hitches, her eyes widening in the dim lighting of the speakeasy, glued to Zoey’s dark ones as they shift over parted lips. “Hey, Bea?” she whispers, thumb still ghosting over Bea’s skin.

“Yeah?” she whispers back, the exhale skimming Zoey’s skin now.

“Are you still trying to get lucky?”

“God yes,” she groans.

Zoey bends down, letting her lips softly graze Bea’s, just barely making contact. Smudged lips chase hers, Zoey smiling before Bea’s palms are on her cheeks, tugging her downwards, her own thumbs brushing along high cheekbones.

Zoey’s hands find her hips, pulling her closer until they’re bodies fit together, only heat between them under the lights. Zoey nips at Bea’s bottom lip, the shorter girl gasping against her lips, Zoey’s tongue slipping past them.

Time ticks past, the mass of people surrounding them lost in a haze, heat the only thing discernible. The break apart after a short moment, unconsciously swaying to the music together, getting caught up in the rhythm, sucked into the thudding bass.

“We should probably head back to campus,” Zoey murmurs after another song fades out.

Bea’s head lolls to the taller girl’s shoulder, a groan spilling from her throat, “Mm, do we have to?”

A familiar chuckle explodes from Zoey’s chest, “Yeah, maybe you’ll find a four-leaf clover along the way. Get even luckier.”

Bea pulls back, her eyes eager as they meet Zoey’s and the remaining laughter in them. “Okay, let’s go!” she grabs Zoey’s hand on her hip, tugging her through the crowd and out the door, pulling her along this time. Her laughter rings behind Bea as she barrels down the street, New York’s lights illuminating her way.

[agoodpersonrose]

You want to WRITE again and I want you to WRITE again so #20 You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

I KNOW this is a meet-cute prompt, but I also knew that there is already an INCREDIBLE fic based on this very concept right here by chthonicheart, and I couldn’t work out a way to write it without stepping on their toes. So, instead, I made it a mini canon divergent fic, I really hope that’s okay!

Patrick is desperate.

He’s really desperate, and he’s terrified. He truly had no idea when he woke up this morning that it would be such a momentous- such a life altering day.

But then, David was making a fuss over a man asking for a gift receipt, and then he was asking Patrick about birthdays, and that could only add up to one thing. It all came tumbling out after that; the invitation to dinner, the suggestion of 8pm (the universal date time), and then of course, the water out of the spray bottle, all over the carrots that Patrick then spent the next ten minutes dabbing anxiously with a piece of tissue, trying not to look too flustered.

But the truth is, Patrick is flustered; he finally did it. He finally asked David Rose out on a date. The same David Rose who has been the sole focus of all his attention; all his affection ever since he wandered into Ray’s house all those months ago.

It’s for this reason that Patrick is desperate to find some way to make this date go well. He needs it to succeed, because if it doesn’t, then he just knows he will always look back on this night as the one where he missed his chance. Where he lost out on the one thing he knows for sure that he really wants.

Except as soon as Patrick gets home, he finds that he has little- no, nothing that he could possibly wear that could live up to his expectations for this evening.

He’s still got five hours, so he tries not to panic. There’s plenty of time to hurry down to the clothing store in Elmdale, although, even if he did do that, there’s no guarantee that he could find something that he would like; something that would be worthy of sitting across from David’s monochrome glory.

He should have thought this through properly.

“Patrick? Are you okay in here? I hope you’re not intending on wearing that shirt soon, it’s going to need some considerably good ironing to get it back to the usual Brewer standards!”

Ray’s voice in his bedroom doorway startles Patrick out of his thoughts, and he looks down to find the one shirt that was in the running crumpled up in a ball in his hands.

“Patrick?” Ray repeats, stepping further into the doorway and looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just- I need to choose something. To wear to dinner. Tonight.”

Ray brightens up at the statement, seeming excited just to be involved in this important discussion. “To dinner?” he asks, suddenly turning sly. “I didn’t know you had a dinner planned for tonight. Anyone I know?”

Patrick can feel himself heating up and just laughs brokenly. “Ha, um, well, actually. It’s David’s birthday, so I asked if he wanted to go for a meal?”

“Oh, a meal?”

“Yes, a meal, and--”

Patrick pauses, thinking hard about what he’s about to ask, but eventually he gives in to the impulse.

“What are you doing this afternoon, Ray? I could really do with your help.”

This is how Patrick ends up accompanying his roommate/landlord/former boss on the forty-minute drive to one the only clothing stores in Elmdale.

Ray had agreed almost too quickly, seeming eager to get Patrick ‘out of his comfort zone’ and ‘into some colour’. Patrick is trying very hard not to regret his decision to bring his only friend along on the shopping excursion, though that is getting harder by the minute, as Ray rattles on and on about differing pattern swatches, and fabrics, and “ooh, maybe a little bolo tie!”

They pull up at the only viable store in the area, Ray shooting out of the driver’s seat in a fit of golden-retriever-like frenzy and rushing Patrick in and over to the men’s clothing section.

Surprisingly enough, Ray is conservative with some of his choices. Sure, there is a crocodile patterned vest thrown in, and a sweater with a cow on it which really would cause David to lose any affection he might possibly hold for him at this stage.

“I think these should do for the first round,” Ray says cheerily, bustling them into Patrick’s arms and pushing him in the direction of the changing rooms. “Go and try them on and I’ll be right with you with the next load.”

Patrick goes, unable to argue when Ray is acting this way, and wanders cluelessly past racks of shirts, suits, and jeans.

He smiles politely at the changing room attendant, and slips into one of the empty stalls, immediately letting out a huffed breath and glaring at himself in the mirror. He’s going to find something today. He’s going to look for his date, and he is definitely going to sweep David off his feet tonight.

And he’s going to kiss him.

That one he’s less certain about but he’s working on it.

Patrick slowly unbuttons his blue shirt, one white button at a time, and pulls it off, placing it carefully on a spare hanger while he slips on a bright orange sweater over his under shirt. He looks again in the mirror, wrinkles up his nose at the gaudy pattern, and goes to take it off.

“Patrick?” he hears Ray’s voice, and groans internally as he pulls the curtain back for his opinion. “Oooh, wow, well I think that’s a winner! What do you think?”

Patrick winces and looks down at the sweater, pulling the sleeves over his hands and making an uncertain noise. “I think maybe the colour isn’t quite--”

“Say no more, I’ll be right back with the next selection. Try this next!”

With that, another handful of clothing, this time majority black fabric.

“Ray, what are you--”

“Try them on, Patrick!” Ray calls without turning back, already disappearing behind another clothes rack.

Patrick does as he’s told again, stepping behind the curtain and pulling on a tight black fluffy sweater, leaving his work jeans on. It’s surprisingly, nice; soft fabric and a tight cut, and Patrick finds himself smoothing his hands over his chest several times with a pleased hum.

“I don’t know Ray,” he calls when he hears footsteps heading into the room. “I just don’t think David is going to be that impressed if I show up to our first date looking like his twin.”

There’s a small intake of breath, but Patrick pays it no mind, and instead steps out into the brighter lighting of the corridor, turning towards the large mirror leaning against the far wall.

Patrick whistles air between his teeth. “I’ll tell you what. It’s soft though, it’s pretty touchable,” he says, turning to one side, his hands continuing to skate along his own shoulders and arms. “Maybe too informal, you know? I want to impress him tonight; I just don’t know what he’ll think about this.”

Suddenly, a hushed conversation and some fast footsteps heading out of the changing rooms alert Patrick that something is happening, and he turns to look behind him.

“Oh. David.”

David Rose is standing in the changing room across from him, impeccably dressed and pale with surprise as he stares down Patrick from three doors down.

“Hi--”

“What are you doing here?”

David looks embarrassed all of a sudden, as if he is the person who just admitted in front of his crush that he was trying to impress him. “Well, um, Stevie actually brought me, she thought she might need a new outfit for- for tonight.”

Patrick’s heart drops through his stomach. “You’re going out with Stevie tonight?”

“Well, no, she was kind of under the impression that we all might be going out, um, after dinner. So, she wanted to get an outfit ready to collect some Randoms, not that that means much more than a vile new flannel shirt and jeans off the clearance rack, but you know.”

“Stevie is coming tonight,” Patrick says slowly, and then finally stops his hands where they have continued to brush against his sweater in an almost self-soothing manner. “To our dinner, tonight.”

David winces, looking uncomfortable.

“Okay, Patrick. I have a few more options here for you. Now, I know that blue is perhaps your statement colour, however, have we considered trying something a little more out there that I really think will catch David’s attention.”

Ray appears in the doorway and holds up a sequin covered sweater which changes colour from purple to pink when pushed in the opposite direction.

“Oh, um--”

“I don’t know Ray, I’m really quite enjoying his current get-up, don’t you think?”

Patrick blinks and turns toward David, who seems to have regained his confidence and is smirking at Patrick with his hand perched on his chin as if deep in thought.

“I think it looks touchable,” David continues. “And we all know how important that is for a first date.”

Ray looks between Patrick and David with an expression of pure elation on his face. Before he can open his mouth to say anything else in response, Stevie is suddenly back in the room too.

“Ray, I’m so glad you’re here. Do you think you could give me some advice for a--” she hesitates a minute, clearly coming up with something on the spot. “For a business meeting, that I have.” Ray’s grin grows ever bigger, and he is soon rushed away back to the store, though Patrick doesn’t miss the thumbs up Stevie shoots at David as they round the corner.

As soon as they’re alone, David steps up to Patrick and puts his hands on his shoulders. His touch is tentative and careful, but warm, as he slowly rubs up and down the seam of the black sweater.

“Mm, very touchable,” David hums, “But aren’t you supposed to ‘be yourself’ on a first date?”

“David--”

“I for one, will be wearing my very favourite Neil Barrett sweater. It has a lightning bolt across it, and my tightest pair of jeans.”

Patrick lets out a breath and slowly raises his hands to David’s waist. He’s still in the heart sweater from this morning, and the fabric is soft and warm from his body heat. “Oh, and why’s that?”

“I just think it shows off my best assets.”

Patrick clicks his tongue and leans back, pretending to look behind David for a while. “I don’t know, these seem to be doing the job just fine in my opinion.”

The laugh David lets out in response is miraculous, and his grip tightens on Patrick’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me it was a date?” he asks, dropping his voice slightly. “When you asked me to dinner.”

“I thought I’d made it obvious!” Patrick exclaims, unable to stop himself from feeling embarrassed despite how close David is standing to him. “And I’d hoped that if you didn’t know before, then you would know by the time you got there.”

“Not if Stevie had come and crashed it!”

“Mm, well, that just sounds like poor planning on your part.”

David pulls a face and sways closer. “You should kiss me now,” he mumbles, almost nervous in the way he’s pawing at Patrick, and dropping his gaze.

“You should at least buy me dinner first,” Patrick manages to get out before David’s lips are on his.

It’s a short kiss really, considering how long they’ve been waiting, though not by Patrick’s choice, as he makes a disgruntled noise of annoyance when David’s mouth is pulled away, and moving.

“Wha--”

“I said, how set are we on the café for our first date?”

Patrick blinks incomprehensibly, unable to stop his gaze from straying back down to David’s lips. Not that he knows what they feel like, how they taste, he can’t help but want to dive in for a second try.

“It’s just- There’s a diner down the road from here, I was thinking we could maybe--”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” David says, grinning and kissing Patrick quickly again. “Go get changed. This is lovely, but I want to go on this date with the blue-button-up, discount jeans Patrick who has been driving me mad these past few months.”

Patrick kisses David again, just because he can, and hurries off to change.

He’s got a date.

[chicksung]

One Last Time || Park Jisung

Genre: Fluff, best friends to lovers!au, nonidol!au. Part of the @neo-the-stars-net halloween collab

Pairing: best friend!jisung x fem reader

Word Count: 2.9k (I didn’t intend for this to happen)

Warning/s: Mentions of fake blood (red paint), singular mention of alcohol (not consumed by either party)

Synopsis: Senior year. Full of teenagers trying to pack the most into their last year of high school to make it memorable. You and Jisung have decided that this year will be the end of your tradition, trick or treating. Better make it count, right?

A/N: I was so happy to be able to be a part of this collab and a special thanks to @ncitythoughts for letting me bounce ideas off you. I really appreciate it, elle! This concept also one my favourites. I also couldn’t find a gif of it but the costume that jisung is in is his one from Halloween 2018! Enjoy, spookies!

Adding the final touches to your makeup, you smiled brightly at your mirror image and stood up, looking the same reflection up and down at your costume. You had recently found your obsession with Stephen King horror movies, your favourite of which being It. You knew that was basic, but the character design of Pennywise was something that continued to fascinate you. So, with your slowly growing sewing capability and enough dedication, you created your genderbent Pennywise cosplay. White top with ruffled sleeves, ruffle white skirt, a lot of white, but for a bit of fun (and what was pretty much canon) you had splattered the clean material with red paint, creating fake bloodstains.

Now your face was coloured white and your lips were shaded into the creepy and sinister smile that Pennywise always harboured. Once satisfied with your reflection, you turned to your best friend. “What do you think?” You called out to him, drawing his attention away from the whiskers he was drawing on his cheeks. He looked you up and down for a moment before smiling.

“Truly terrifying.” Jisung smiled, turning back to his reflection to add the last whisker. He placed down the eyeliner pen and stood up. Jisung’s costume was also mainly white, but his taking on a more animalistic and innocent portrayal, polar opposite to your ‘blood’ splattered clothes.

“Look at you, Jwi. So cute.” You said, playfully pinching his cheeks, causing him to groan.

“Y/N stop~ We’re not five anymore.” He stated.

He was right. You weren’t five anymore. You were both eighteen and in your final year of high school. Funniest thing about this whole thing is that you didn’t even know Jisung when you were five. The two of you didn’t meet until you were eleven and the seating plan the teacher had set up had graciously introduced you to Jisung, the soft spoken, gangly boy who spent way too much time in the gymnasium for your liking, yet the two of you became inseparable.

To be quite honest, you had no idea how it happened, it just did. Asking for solutions for the math homework ended up turning into the most important friendship you’ve made.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you ready?” Your little sister, Gyuri squawked, running into your room in her cheap Halloween store Princess Aurora dress. The young girl was six and only came up to Jisung’s knee, but her excitement was measured to approximately seven feet tall. It was the first year that your mother had let her go trick or treating but only if you went with her, and knowing Jisung, he wasn’t going to mind the girl tagging along. You knew he was very much whipped for Gyuri and she looked up to Jisung like the older brother she never had.

“Give us a minute, GyuGyu. We’re almost done here. Why don’t you go and get the little bags I bought. They’re the purple and black bags I put on the kitchen table. There’s one for each of us, and our names are written on them. Can you do that for me?” You said, slowly shrinking down to her level so she hopefully wouldn’t be to intimidated by the creepy clown makeup, but thankfully she remained bubbly.

“I can do that!” She said, her hands curling up into little fists before running back out the door she had entered not long before.

“Does she ever just...stop?” Jisung asked. He was honestly jealous with how much energy the six year old had. You shook your head, a reminiscent shine glazing over your eyes. You didn’t recognise the trance you were in until Jisung was waving his hands in front of you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Do you copy?” Jisung huffed, his big brown eyes almost touching your own. Your eyes finally snap back to now and you see how close in proximity your face was from his.

“Yes, I copy. Now get out of my face.” You rolled your eyes, shoving Jisung away from you. He chuckled and stepped away from you, a warm feeling buzzing in his chest. A buzz he recognised way too well, and one he only felt when he was with you.

“Okay you two, stand in front of the door. I think you know the drill.” Your mom smiled, camera clamped firmly in her hand as she gestured towards you and Jisung.

Another one for the scrapbook

You shuffled towards the tall boy, looking towards your mom and smiled. Jisung did the same. His heart shaped smile revealed his teeth and gums to the camera and your mother couldn’t stop herself from fawning over him a few seconds after the shuttering of the camera was heard.

“Aww, Jisungie, dont you just look adorable?” She cooed, making you roll your eyes. “Mom, stop it~ It’s embarrassing~”

“What? Am I not allowed to compliment someone?” She teased back before you rolled your eyes and strutted over to see the photo, a soft smile gliding across your face. This was really the end of your tradition, huh?

You and Jisung retreated back to your bedroom and from under your bed, you pulled out a scrapbook with its spine cracked from how many times it had been opened.

It had been your mother’s idea to scrapbook your friendship. Although you thought it was dumb at first, you’re really glad she had suggested it. Calling for Jisung to pass you one of your many orange gel pens, you made small decorations in the page before writing ‘Halloween, Senior Year’ at the top in cursive and glued the picture onto the page.

You couldn’t help but flick back to your very first Halloween together, you dressed in a cheap princess dress and crown (very similar to your little sister’s), and Jisung in an equally as cheap vampire costume, complete with fake teeth. Your pumpkin shaped candy buckets clutches tightly in your hands.

The more pages you flip, the more you watched yourselves grow. Jisung went to being shorter than you to being five feet taller than you and you grew into your body and developed as every girl did.

“God, I was so cringey back then.” Jisung groaned when he saw what picture you were looking at.

“And what makes you think you grew out of that?”

“And what makes you think that...that...” He tried to find something to fire back at you but all he came up with were bent bullets.

“Better luck next time, Sungie.” You smirked slyly, your hand creating a ‘V’ on his face and squishing his cheeks. He puffed his cheeks out and stood up, walking towards your little sister, who was busy imitating a spinning top in her dress.

“Gyuri! You silly, if you keep spinning like that, you won’t be able to come trick or treating with us!” Jisung told her, placing his hands lightly on her back to stop her. Gyuri stumbles for a second when she stopped before smiling up at Jisung.

“I’ve stopped now. Can we go?” She asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her heels and with a singular nod from your mother, she squealed (which rang through room in a pitch you didn’t like to think about) and grabbed her little black and purple bag and raced to your side.

“I take it you’re ready to go?” You asked the little girl, who nodded her head enthusiastically. You looked back to Jisung, but his eyes were trained to your sibling and an unconscious smile touched your lips.

“Have fun, kids!” Your mother voice broke your train of thought and you nodded.

“We’ll see you later, mom!”

As dusk turned to nightfall, you, your best friend and your little sister went to the doors of the decorated houses, which broke the familiarity of the normal picket fences neighbourhood. The excited rap on every house’s door was opened with an equally excited parent, placing candy into each of your buckets. There were a few who questioned you and your friend, asking if you were too old for dress up.

“It’s been our tradition for years. It’s what brought us closer together.” You would always tell them before taking Gyuri’s hand and skipping back up the path and onto the next house.

By 9pm, Gyuri was in Jisung’s arms, fast asleep, her pudgy cheek squished up against her eye. The stars were out now and the moon’s reflective rays were the only thing that lit up your path aside from the occasional streetlight. You opened up the front door, Jisung pushing passed you to deliver the six year old to your mother.

“Are you two going to stay out a little later?” She asked the boy. He nodded. “Yes, we are but not too much later.” He promised. Your mom smiled. If there was anyone who was just as whipped for Jisung as you were, it was your mother.

“Alright but no later than midnight, alright kids?” She called out as Jisung made his way to the door. With a call of reassurance delivered, you and Jisung left the house once more and began to wander the streets.

The memories from the past seven years crashed over your mind like a tidal wave, images of a younger set of best friends, running like crazy through the streets, playing chasy with all the other neighbourhood kids while the parents sat around and drank and conversed. The memories of your younger self. A younger friendship, a younger mindset, a younger crush.

Neither you ever confessed your feelings but you lost count of how many people (particularly adults) who assumed you were a couple.

“Do you remember when I would sleep over, if the sky was clear, we would say we would sleep under the stars but chicken out and just sleep in your room?” You reminisced on the story aloud, Jisung giggling in return.

“Yeah. We were so scared something like a cougar was gonna eat us or something.” His laughter picked up again, his eyes squinting as he did.

“The wild imagination of a child, I guess.” You concluded, falling back into comfortable silence before stumbling across a part of the neighbourhood that was all too familiar.

The woods.

Many games of hide and seek and murder in the dark were played here, the latter being played with other friends and children on the same street. You remember the nights of giggling until your sides ached, hiding until you had to find the seekers, being too good that you were always made the seeker.

“We basically know every inch of that wood.” Jisung cocked his head to the side, trying to peer into the wood, seeing if there were any creatures of the night lurking around. There weren’t but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“I remember making so many cubby houses with Yuna and Seulgi. You, Renjun and Chenle wouldn’t let us into yours so we made our own. Turns out ours was much more stable when it came to windy days.” You teased, letting your shoes tease the edge between the woodly maze and the street. Jisung scrunched his nose up and folded his arms, mumbling something about Chenle being dumb and Renjun being just as dumb when it came to stability.

Jisung stood there for a second longer, before his eyes lit up with an idea. “We should play hide and seek.”

You snapped your head towards him so fast, it almost gave you whiplash. “Huh?”

Jisung looked at you and felt his chest was about to explode from the warmth inside it. “I mean, if we’re stopping our tradition tonight, might as well finish it properly. Let’s play hide and seek one last time, before we become boring adults stuck in office jobs and getting more paper cuts than hours of sleep.”

You couldn’t see why not

“Since it was your suggestion, you’re the seeker.” You declared as you dashed into the woods, looking for the same pile of old plywood that you would hide behind and no one could ever seem to find you. Jisung tried to protest but you were too far into the wood that his complaints fell onto deaf ears.

You could hear Jisung’s footsteps approaching and distancing themselves from the spot you sat. ‘Even after all these years, that idiot still can’t find me.’ You thought to yourself. You checked your phone and you had been crouched in the same position for ten minutes.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?” You heard Jisung’s voice echoing from the other side of the wood.

“Over here, you stupid!” You called out, knowing that he was nowhere near close to finding you. He dashed back to the centre of the forest, looking around and trying to pinpoint where your voice had called out to him moments ago.

“Where’s here?” He asked, but this time, no reply. He groaned before calling your phone. You were quick to decline the desperate boy’s plea and watched as he tossed his head back in annoyance. You watched him slowly make his way closer to you, and you were in perfect alignment with his ankles. Yes. Yes. This is what you wanted.

One step. Two steps.

When he reached his third step, you grasped his right ankle, causing the boy to screech in a high pitch and high decibel rating. You were laughing your ass off, while Jisung calmed his racing heart (mind you, you were dressed as a psychopathic clown). You pouted at him before wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m so sorry. I saw the opportunity and I had to take it. Please please forgive me.” You pleaded, squeezing him tightly and listening as his heart slowed, but his heart still had a skipping rhythm to it.

“I suppose I can. But I can’t promise anything.” Jisung sighed out, plonking down at the base of a thick oak tree whose branches reached over the night sky, obscuring the stars that dimly shimmered above. You sat down beside him and sighed, your head resting against the tree.

Jisung watched over your smiling form, your fascination with the stars saving him from being caught staring at you. His heartbeat quickened once more and unbeknownst to him, a soft pink hue poked at his cheeks and reddened his ears.

“Y/N?” He called out to you, pulling you from your starry trance. You caught the flaming red that flowed on the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, Sungie?”

“Can I tell you something? Something I’ve been hiding from you?” His question was hesitant and his tone was shy, like he was scared of your reaction.

“Jisung, we’ve been friends for years. You don’t need to ask me to tell me something.” You chuckled, nudging his arm to try and get him to lighten up. The blush in his cheeks darkened crazily fast and he sighed.

“I’velikedyouforareallylongtimebu-” His words were jumbled and close together and you couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Jwi. Take a deep breath and try again.” You reassured him, turning your body towards him and rubbing his shoulders. Jisung followed your instructions, sighing out his breath and trying again.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time but I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt like tonight would be my last chance before I chickened out again.” This time, you understood him and you couldn’t quite still your pounding heart.

“You don’t have to accept and I know this might ruin our friendship but I had to shoot my shot, you know and Haechan said-”

“I like you too.” You interjected, your own cheeks dusting pink. There was a silence, filled with processed emotions and spiked heartbeats.

“So...”

“Guess Renjun was right.” Jisung snapped his head towards you. “What do you mean?” You chuckled at the boy’s confused face and hummed.

“He said that if we didn’t like each other by the end of high school, there was something wrong with us.” Jisung scrunched up his face and mimicked the words you just, imitating Renjun’s voice. “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong.” You smiled, picking yourself up and dusting off your knees and butt.

“How long have you liked me?” Jisung asked, standing up himself as the two of you started to wander aimlessly. You looked up to the sky in thought, the stars helping you connect the question to the last seven years.

“Since I was like...13? 14? We had been friends for a while but I kept it quiet because you were still dating Heejin.” You could hear Jisung audibly cringe at the name of his ex-girlfriend. Yes, he and Heejin were only together for two months but she was awfully clingy and had tried to drive you and Jisung apart.

“You know what’s good about this though?” Jisung said, looking back to you, still seeing the sparkle in your eye despite it being almost pitch black.

“What?” No sooner had you said that, you felt Jisung’s lips touch the burning skin of your cheeks and your face flushed red. He laughed at you before pulling your arm towards the street once more.

“I should get you home. Your mom said to be home by 12, didn’t she? Don’t want her thinking I’ve Up and left with her daughter.” He smiled at you.

As the two of you walked side by side, like you had done for years, your pinky fingers wrapped around each other as you set off home. Down the same road you had walked for years, with the person you loved more than anything.

[alinette-coccinelle]

Written in the Tea Leaves

Hey Katelyn! I was your MLB Secret Santa, Merry Christmas! You said Lukanette was your favourite so I hope you like this little meet cute ficlet; I tried to pick two complementary cute AU's for this fluff piece so i hope you like it!

AO3

Despite the lack of sleep and her usual hatred for mornings Marinette had woken up long before sunrise today, her mind caught up in the opening of her and Alya’s very own Tattoo shop, their dream come true after years of hard work. She’d attempt to plan her outfit out the night before but with hours to kill in the morning she’d gotten changed a further six times, her nerves and excitement refusing to let her sit still. In the end she settled on a lacy dusky pink sundress that was both her favourite colour and still flashy enough to show off the art she wore on her own skin proudly.

And Marinette was no stranger to Ink, her fingers itched daily to add to the scrawling elegant display of watercolour flowers that spiralled both her arms and nearly met across her shoulder blades and collar bones. It was getting to the point where she struggled to add to the piece herself, instead bothering Alya to copy out her designs onto skin; Alya who was almost as talented with ink, though she preferred to stab people with jewellery usually.

The most recent addition to Marinette’s piece had been three small gold washed marigolds across her shoulder blade, to represent her and Alya’s creative dream coming true, every single one of the flowers she wore held a meaning of some kind, literally wearing her heart on her sleeves for all to see.

With the healing process finally over and the urge to show off her skill for the opening Marinette decided she was brave enough to skip the coat and bare the brisk spring air, after all it looked warm enough with the rising sun and it would be a shame to cover up the art she wanted to show off. With her heart still fluttering somewhere rapidly in her throat in excitement she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to get into the shop and so for the first time in forever she set off from her apartment ridiculously early, Alya would be pleased.

In her unrestrained glee Marinette had failed to notice the sky darkening or even the air growing cold as she practically skipped down the cobbled streets to their shop. When the rain finally broke overhead the squeal that ripped from her throat was genuine shock and despite trying to keep under shop awnings she was truly and unsurprisingly soaked, hair plastered to her face within minutes and her whole form violently shivering as she dripped.

Sheltering herself against the side of the building Marinette found herself cursing her luck and scowling down at the ‘lucky’ ladybug tattooed on the outside of her wrist, as if it was going to give her a solution; she was only about half way between home and the shop and in either direction laid more rain. In the end Marinette made the split-second decision to duck into the only open looking coffee shop on the corner, the lights glowing warmly through the window into the rainy gloom. Sure she wasn’t far from the safety of her own shop but the hottest tea she could stand sounded like a good pay off to her rain soaked self and maybe she could even miss the rest of the downpour safely inside, it wasn’t like she was running late.

Feeling a little more hopeful Marinette dashed back out into the rain and darted through the coffee shop door blindly, water dripping in her eyes as the bell chimed above her. As soon as the door shut and the warmth hit her and she stilled leaning back on her heels just slightly as her shivers subsided and her eyes slid closed happily, rubbing her arms a little for warmth as she adjusted.

“You’re dripping on my floor.” came an amused voice from her left, startling her eyes open.

Marinette immediately rushed to apologise, hands fluttering and her whole face turning scarlet but before she could mumble the words aloud a soft towel was being pushed into her hands, stilling them.

“It’s clean, dry yourself off and go sit by the guitars, it’s where the heating vents are.” He winked at her like sharing a secret before turning back to head towards the counter. “I’ll bring you something warm; tea?”

The unbelievably flustered Marinette just nodded in response, eyes wide and face burning but he at least seemed amused by her speechlessness, smiling as he left.

Despite still dripping with rainwater her brain failed to jump into action, instead allowing her eyes to follow the baristas retreating form unbidden, the teal tips of his locks reflecting in the lights and the muscles under his black button up flexing casually as he moved. ‘He’s Cute’ was the first thing to flash forward followed in the empty silence of her thoughts followed rapidly by ‘I look like a took a swim in the Seine! Argh!’

Finally kicked into action she immediately began towelling the rainwater off her face and shoulders before gently rubbing her hair, careful to try and make herself as presentable as possible by pulling her fingers through the now wavy damp locks. She eventually remembered to move from the door, eyes darting back to the Barista as she walked, this time watching as he selected tea leaves from a variety of jars on the counter adding them to a glass teapot. She was pretty sure could hear him humming as he worked which caused her lips to twitch into a small involuntary smile.

For a beat she hovered next to the table unsure if she wanted to get the comfy looking fabric seats all wet but when she next glanced up she could see the barista’s dimpled smile sent her way across the counter and as their eyes finally met her suddenly weak knees decided she needed the seat after all. So Marinette perched gingerly on the edge of the chair, fingers worrying in the damp fabric of her skirt as she waited, the returning smile on her lips refusing to be squashed by her embarrassment even if she couldn’t quite look his way again.

She instead cast her eyes about the café quickly catching on to the musical theme as she spotted all sorts of instruments mounted to the walls, not just the guitars she was sat near. There was even the odd album poster dotted around and she couldn’t help but smile as she spotted her own Jagged Stone cover amongst the rest; Uncle Jagged had like the design so much he’d let her tattoo it on his arm years later and she wondered idly if the barista was a Jagged fan, maybe she could ask him, If she could find her words again.

Marinette was startled out of her thoughts by a polite clearing of a throat. The Barista and his warm eyes were back, and he was baring a steaming teapot that smelled divine.

“I thought you might like-“ he began,

“I’m sorry about your-” she clattered over him.

His easy smile as he gestured for her to go first calmed the pulse ringing in her ears and Marinette found herself able to meet his lovely teal eyes as she spoke her own soft smile blooming in response.

“I’m sorry about the floor and thank you.” she finally breathed, relieved.

“It’s no problem, we’re not really open yet but you looked cold and a just little damp, so I thought I’d offer you a place to warm up.” He spoke lightly with just a hint of friendly teasing as he placed a musical note patterned mug before her.

“I really appreciate it, thank you! I, um, well I wasn’t quite prepared for the weather.” She admitted. And whilst Marinette had meant to be witty or charming, to try hard and make a good impression something about him put her instantly at ease; happy to just be herself for once, exactly as she was, even if that was a little bashful.

It seemed to be the right move as he grew flushed by her sincere thanks a small blush spreading across his cheeks as his eyes dropped from hers. In fact, Marinette got the distinct impression he’d rub his neck in shyness if his hands weren’t full of teapot, the thought alone caused a warmth to grow in the pit of her stomach; he was as adorable as he was kind.

“I thought this would suit you, jasmine and sakura blossom with curl of apple.” He nodded his chin to the leaves and fruit floating clear teapot before reaching across the table to pour, unintentionally causing his long sleeves to ride up baring the edge of a tattoo to her.

Like a predator spotting pray Marinette instantly zoned in on the tattoo, her bashfulness vanishing in curiosity, her hands reaching forward without thought to push the sleeve further up baring the beautiful design. It was some sort of snake surrounded by fresh tea leaves and music notes, the colours greyscale but with a watercolour wash of blue and teal; very much like her own preferred style.

“Oh! its beautiful.” She gasped delightedly, gently lifting his hand off the lid of the tea pot so she could turn his arm to view it better, revealing a burn scar running through the back of the design.

“I could fix this!” she blurted out, eyes darting across his skin mentally designing and recreating the piece with new details to cover the scar.

In the responding silence she finally glanced up to meet his startled but soft gaze when she remembered they were practically strangers; she didn’t even know his name and she’d gotten carried away again! Quickly releasing his arm, she sat back, linking her fingers together to stop the fidgeting as she turned slowly scarlet from head to toe her eyes fixed somewhere around his chin, no longer brave enough to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, that was so rude! I’m a tattoo artist and I get carried away and I shouldn’t have and–“

He cut her off with the scrape of the chair next to her as he took a seat, carefully arranging the music note patterned apron on his knee, as if giving her a chance to breathe before ducking slightly to try and gently catch her gaze.

“It’s okay but maybe we should start again properly. I’m Luka.”

His voice was so warm, like honey, that it took her a moment to realise he was offering his hand to shake; her daintier hand engulfed by his as she finally reached out and shook. She forced herself to untense and to meet his eyes with a smile despite the tingles in her fingertips of the hand he still held.

“I’m um, I’m Ma-Ma-Marinette! Pleased to meet you!” she stumbled the moment his eyes connected with hers, really at 26 she ought to be better at this, but Luka just chuckled softly squeezing her fingers but seemingly in no rush to let go either.

“Well Ma-Ma-Marinette, let’s talk about these tattoos...”

And they did her mouth spiralling out of control as her nerves calmed when supplied with a topic she loved, quickly explaining her skill and style before expressing exactly how she’d like to cover the scar in his design, absently tracing her plans with her fingertips on his skin. Luka in turn explained exactly how the scar came to be and how he ended up trading in music and fancy tea leaves, before shifting closer and gently touching the flowers across her arms, quizzing her on the meaning behind the art and how she’d come to be an artist in ink.

In the end he ended up getting down his favourite guitar off the wall and playing her some pieces for inspiration as she rapidly sketched out his new tattoo design on a napkin in biro; she couldn’t wait for a sketch book not when the idea was so perfect.

Before they knew it, hours had passed, the sun was breaking through the clouds and Marinette was getting a frantic call from Alya about being late to opening day as Luka realised that he should have opened the store front an hour ago. There wasn’t time for awkward lingering goodbyes, Marinette instead throwing her arms around the taller boy in a soft slightly to long hug before she was dashing out of his arms and running out of the door, wearing his borrowed jacket. A jacket that she’d later find a hastily hidden note baring his number in the pocket of.

So, when Marinette happened to get a craving for tea the next morning and returned his jacket with the pocket now hiding a preliminary sketch of his new design and her own number neatly in the corner it was only natural. As it was when she was invited back day after day, after all it was on her way and they had design to settle on.

Nearly a month later when that design was finally on his arm but now also baring greyscale sakura blossoms amongst the scattered tea leaves, it seemed almost logical for matching tea leaves to appear on Marinette’s design in return too, it was such an aesthetic combination after all.

And months after that when a beaming Marinette moved into the flat above his cosy tea shop to live with an overjoyed Luka no one even blinked, it seemed some people’s fate were written in the tea leaves after all.

[colourful-void]

Hope’s Peak AU General Outfit Headcanons

It’s more au!!!!!! I was really tired while writing this and it probably shows. If I missed anyone lemme know! I think I missed someone from v3 but I'm not sure who. If people are interested in the dr3 characters beyond Ryouta, I can add on to this post. Lemme know!

As a general rule, any special events that require uniforms (graduation, entrance ceremony, etc) will have most students wearing uniforms. It’s important to note that while Hope’s Peak has a uniform (the same ones seen in the dr3 anime) there is no dress code. You can buy a uniform in the school store, but they aren’t at all mandatory, and so Hope’s Peak Students can wear Literally Whatever They Want. So you don’t have to wear the uniform for your agab, you can wear a halloween costume everyday, pj’s everyday, really the only rule is that if you would get arrested for wearing it on the street, you probably shouldn’t be wearing it here, and you need to be wearing something.  

(I’ll also mention free time a bunch in this post, which is just whenever the students aren’t in class. I’ll explain the daytime/nighttime and class time/ free time schedule in a later post)

Long post, so details on each character underneath the cut! =)

[Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc]

Makoto: wears his outfit from THH, but the pants are the uniform and the jacket is the uniform. during free time he’s just in hoodies in jackets. He gets cold easy.

Sayaka: wears the uniform, she thinks it’s cute. Has hair clips/hairbands to accessorize. wears cute and trendy clothes!

Leon: doesn’t wear the uniform. Wears whatever was closest lying on the floor. 

Chihiro: wears the uniform, but sometimes with her in game skirt instead of the uniform skirt. some of the other girls took her shopping for dresses and skirts and she loves all those outfits and wears them all the time! =)

Mondo: wears the uniform, but not the tie, and has his shirt unbuttoned in that delinquent way most of the time. Sometimes Taka will through a tie on him, though loosely tied. (Mondo doesn’t like things restraining his neck)

Kiyotaka: are you kidding he wears the uniform religiously. He’s never seen in anything else. Even after class hours, on weekends, over break, he’s wearing it. Some of the under (and upper) classmen wonder if he even owns other clothes. 

Hifumi: owns a uniform. Usually wears it, but sometimes he just comes in pyjama’s. 

Celeste: never. She’s not even wearing it in the pictures from THH, she’s probably never even touched a uniform. She’s committed to the aesthetic. dresses all the time.

Sakura: wears it everyday, but only during school hours. wears stretchy workout clothes normally. 

Mukuro: wears the uniform, though she’s modified it so the neck is looser, and there are lots of hidden pockets for weapons. She also made her skirt longer. she also has a bulletproof vest she wears both during and after classes. shes got leggings with hidden pockets. 

Junko: also wears a modified uniform, with extra pockets, and a shorter skirt. She also has her tie from THH, and her THH skirt. Keeps her Monokuma Hairclips.

Aoi: More likely to be wearing her gym uniform or other work out clothes with the hope’s peak logo on them than the actual uniform, but staff will take what they can get.

Hagakure: doesn’t wear it.

Touko: wears the uniform, but Syo doesn’t. Syo just wears whatever, so if she’s in control when getting dressed, she’ll probably just wear whatever she can find. She doesn’t care if its clean, ripped, etc.

Byakuya: The Great Byakuya Togami has better quality clothes than the hope’s peak uniform, but will wear it when requested by Makoto, or at any school events where he wants to look part of the class or something. (School fair, stuff like that)

Kyouko: wears the uniform. It makes her dad happy.

[Ultra Despair Girls]

Komaru: Doesn’t go to Hope’s Peak, but wears the uniform for her own school.

All the warriors do not wear uniforms. I don’t think that Hope’s Peak Elementary has a uniform. They wear their in game things. Except Jataro, who wears an allergy face mask instead of his in game mask. 

[Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair]

Hajime: Wears the Uniform, though usually not the jacket. He’ll keep it with him, but hang it on chairs or something. If he’s wearing the jacket either Izuru is in control, Hajime is cold, or he’s at a formal event.

Imposter: they’ll follow the outfit choices including uniform of whoever they’re impersonating, they are Dedicated. 

Teruteru: doesn’t wear the uniform. Is always wearing a chef’s outfit. He didn’t wear it in dr3, he won’t wear it here.

Koizumi: Wears the uniform during class hours, wears simple dresses and overalls during freetime.

Peko: wears her uniform most of the time, though does own and wear casual clothes. She’ll usually wear those around her own room though, and she has little dresses she’ll wear on outings or on dates

Ibuki: it’s debated if Ibuki even owns a Hope’s Peak uniform. She’ll wear whatever she feels like, which means you may see her in a full suit, a ballgown, a tracksuit, her gym uniform, or a uniform for a school thats she’s never been to, and you can never tell what it may be. She is pretty fond of neon colours though, so typically she’s wearing really bright colours and casual clothes. She also ties her hair up different constantly, with no rhyme or reason other than ‘she felt like it’. She looks like Haruhi in that one opening scene to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimiya.

Hiyoko: shes still wearing kimonos and she still cant tie them

Mikan: she wears the uniform most of the time, and casual clothes when it’s not class time. Her uniform has been modified for her by Tsumugi, to make the skirt longer. Her casual clothes are nice skirts, leggings and long sleeved shirts.

Nekomaru: He wears the uniform most of the time, and track suits/ his in game clothes during free times.

Gundham: wears the uniform during school hours, and his in game clothes during free time. However, he always has his scarf and arm wrap.

Komaeda: wears the uniform, but has his little sweater vest thing. Basically what he looked like in 2.5. His hair has a touch more colour to it though, and there’s brown starting to come in at the roots by his 3rd year. During free time he wears his jacket from the game.

Chiaki: same clothes as dr3 during classes. Will wear anime graphic tees and hoodies when she’s not in class.

Fuyuhiko: Guess what it’s his vest from 2.5, I’m sorry it’s getting repetitive but canon did alright with outfits in some places and I’m not gonna fix whats not broken.

Sonia: Sonia loves the hope’s peak uniform. She wears it often, but she does have some casual dresses for when shes not in class. A note I will make, Sonia is way more practical about her hair in this au because I refuse to believe that someone like Sonia would have hair that long and not tie it up. She wears high ponytails and her braid crown from the game, and is happy to try different hair styles, such as braids or buns.

Souda: “wow souda, how come your mom lets you have two jumpsuits?” also teeshirts and basketball shorts.

Akane: wears the uniform, but also gym clothes on the regular. sometimes she wears oversized teeshirts, and general work out clothes.

(Im putting Ryota here because I’m lazy)

Ryota: wears the uniform during class, and oversized hoodies when class is over.

[New Danganronpa V3: Everyone’s New Semester of Killing]

Shuuichi: wears the uniform. He also has his hat. He wore it a lot in first year, and slowly grew to wear it less. Now he wears it sometimes, but not always! When he feels like it. 

Rantaro: wears the uniform, and his normal clothes when school hours are over. He’s got a laid back style of dress that matches his personality 

Kaede: she wears the uniform and she’s very happy about it! Her casual clothes look like a uniform, they’re very preppy. Sweater vests and pleated skirts.

Hoshi: wears the uniform but replaced the normal jacket with his leather one, and his in game clothes when he’s not in class.

Kirumi: she’s wearing the uniform the majority of the time, even when class is over, since it makes her more recognizable to the other students. She keeps the gloves though. Students are Messy.

Angie: Ok previously I said she didn’t wear the uniform, but then I started drawing her in the uniform and I changed my mind. She wears her raincoat instead of the jacket and ties off the end of her shirt to show her stomach, like Brittney Spears. She has no clue who Brittney is, she just tied it like that to show off her piercings. Keeps the uniform skirt, has art supplies tucked into every pocket she’s got.

Tenko: wears the boys uniform actually! All uniforms offer equal mobility and she likes that uniform better. The dress code is like non existent, so no one cares. When she’s not in class, she might wear skirts or pants, she doesn’t really care. So long as it offers good mobility for kicking degenerates. 

Korekiyo: wears the uniform and his in game outfit. Keeps the mask.

Miu: doesn’t wear the uniform, keeping her in game clothes. She also has some other clothes, almost all of which have swear words on them, or pants with things written on the seat of them. Good thing hope’s peak doesn’t have a dress code!

Gonta: gonta is a gentleman who wears the uniform with pride! 

Kokichi: now with Kokichi it depends. Most day’s he’ll wear casual clothes, like hoodies and jeans. On good days/ days he’s particularly excited, he’ll wear his Dice costume from his art. If he’s not having a good day, he’ll wear the uniform. So far the only people who have caught on to this pattern are Sonia and Shuuichi. No matter what he’s wearing his scarf. If he ever came to class without it, Shuuichi/Sonia would probably pull him out of class in a panic to ask what was wrong. Beyond that, he’s got a bunch of hair clips he’ll wear sometimes, as well as rings and bracelets. His favourite bracelet is a bunch of purple glass beads that make a satisfying noise when he shakes his hands.

Kaito: He replaced his uniform coat with his purple coat. He is always wearing that coat. He also has JAXA shirts and other space themed clothes

Kiibo: for a while he didn’t have a uniform because.. well he’s a robot he doesn’t need one. But after he told Kiyotaka he wanted one, Taka gave him one, and now he wears it a bunch! It makes him very happy. When he’s not in class though he usually doesn’t wear it since he doesn’t want it getting dirty.

Tsumugi: Tsumugi made a lot of alterations to her uniform to make it ‘cuter’. Sometimes she’ll just come to class in different uniforms for various anime characters. As someone who sometimes just wears cosplay on a normal day and who goes to cons, there is something fantastic about seeing someone in cosplay doing mundane things, and thats what Tsumugi looks like near constantly. she’d rather have other people wear them, but ‘if no one else will wear them, I will!’and it makes good advertising. Also cosplay is fun!

Maki: Joining the modified uniform gang, also with pockets for knives and things. Also has a longer skirt. She braids her hair sometimes, because I can verify from experience that hair like Maki’s would be super inconvenient and get in the way. 

Himiko: she’ll usually wear the uniform, but if she’s feeling lazy/tired/depressed, she might just come to class in pj’s. Same thing for free times.

I think that’s everyone! lemme know if I missed anything, or you’ve got thoughts/things u wanna share! Thanks for reading this all!

[the-quiet-winds]

Things are Shaping Up to be Pretty Odd (part two)

[A bit of modern fun and fluff with @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts. Ironically finished a few days before Olivier nominations came out.]

[part one]

[Part 2: We Won’t Tiptoe About]

Jane scours the racks, searching for things that met Katherine’s foggy criteria. 

“Can I help you find something, miss?”

A young attendant is standing near her with curious eyes. Jane straightens up and nods slightly. “I'm looking for something for my daughter. She wants to be a little more...conservative in her style.”

The salesgirl narrows her eyes slightly and Jane is prepared to defend Katherine no matter what, but then the woman smiles. “Follow me, I think we have a few that are just what she’s looking for.”

The attendant leads Jane to a section in the corner of the shop. Even from a glance it was clear the dresses were made to cover more skin than the others, but they were still beautiful.

“Your daughter, is that the girl who was talking to you before?” The assistant asks. Jane nods, and the assistant flicks through the dress rack. “She’s very lucky to have such long legs, so she can wear perhaps something that reaches to the knee and not look cut off by it, if that’s the style she’s going for.” The assistant glances at Jane with a dress in her hand. It was plain white, an almost blouse-like high neckline with short capped sleeves and a skirt that went out in an a-line to around the knee. “I know it’s not particularly exciting to look at, but see if she likes this style,” the assistant offers the dress to Jane. “If she does, then we have plenty of more interesting patterns and colours in this cut. If not, then we can keep looking.”

Jane smiles brightly. “I'll see how she likes it.”

The attendant grins, then offers another option. “If she wants a more of a modern look...” she trails of as she flicks through some choices. “This is very popular amongst girls her age.”

She holds up a long, black jumpsuit. It, too, had capped sleeves, but the neckline scooped slightly lower to show off what Jane would assume to be one’s collarbones. She hands it to Jane. 

“Take both of these and see what she likes,” she instructs kindly. “We’ll choose where to go from there.”

Jane makes her way to the dressing room, where Katherine is sitting on the small bench, back in her shirt and jeans, looking rather glum. 

“I have a few more choices, love.” She holds them up with a hopeful smile. “I have a feeling they’ll have something here you’ll like.”

Katherine looks at the options, gaze lingering on the skirt of the dress and the neckline of the jumpsuit. She doesn’t seem particularly convinced but she shrugs and reaches out to take them anyway.

“I'll wait just outside,” Jane reassures her, stepping out of the dressing room and closing the door behind her. She waits patiently, hoping that Katherine would like at least one of the options, or if not that she’d at least have a better idea of what she wanted to wear. After several minutes Katherine emerges from the dressing room in the black jumpsuit, face slightly nervous.

“...What do you think?” Jane asks her.

“I like the pants,” Katherine admits with a tiny smile. then it fades. “But not so much the top.”

Jane nods. “That’s a start, love,” she assures. “Go on and try the dress.” 

Katherine emerges a few minutes later in the dress, a similar nervous look about her. 

“How about this one?” Jane asks. 

Katherine shrugs, still vaguely distant. “I don’t like it that much,” she says quietly. 

The attendant stops by a moment later. “No good?” she asks. Katherine shakes her head shamefully. The woman tsks lightly. “There’s no shame in that, lass.” She pauses to think, then a light smirk appears on her lips. “You know, we do tailor women’s suits.”

Katherine glances as Jane almost questioningly and Jane gives her a reassuring smile. “What do you think of that, love?”

“I don’t know,” Katherine says slowly. “I... I’ve never worn a suit before. Do you think I'd look good?”

“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting,” the assistant smiles, “but personally I think you’d look lovely. And if you’re worried about boring fabric then you don’t need to; we make a wide variety with all kinds of materials, and we can add a little bit of sparkle if you’d like.”

Katherine lights up a bit at that and nods her head. 

“I'll go grab a few samples,” the salesgirl says with a light laugh, bustling off towards the backroom. Jane hustles Katherine back inside the dressing room to change again.

The woman returns, arms laden with jackets and pants and shirts. “I think most of these should fit her well,” she says, handing a set to Jane. The pants and jacket were a matching steel grey, the shirt a light blue. “Just for size, lass,” she calls to Katherine as Jane hands them through the curtain.

As Jane waits, she’s slightly confused to hear a quiet giggling coming from inside the dressing room. She almost calls out to ask what Katherine’s laughing at, but soon Katherine emerges, a slightly giddy smile on her face.

“It’s not what I'm used to,” she says, adjusting the jacket, “but, I dunno, I think it looks quite cool.” Her eyes immediately go to Jane for validation.

Jane smiles brightly. “I think it’s ‘quite cool’ too, love. You look great.”

Katherine blushes pink as her hair. “The colors are weird though,” she says with a slight goofy laugh. 

“Leave that to me,” the attendant says. she steps back and scans Katherine quickly, then speaks again, “I have an idea.” she retreats back to the backroom then returns with new material. She hands Katherine a dark cream shirt to hold up. “Perfect.” The attendant pulls out her fabric, black with pink, orange, yellow, and green flowers in bold patterns.  “What do you think of that?”

The fabric is vibrant and eye catching, and Katherine finds herself staring at it for several moments before remembering to reply.

“I- I like it a lot,” she says, slightly shyly. “It’s like, impressive, but not something that, y’know,” her voice drops slightly, “men will stare at for the wrong reasons.” She directs the last part away from the attendant, although judging from the woman’s kind smile she heard it anyway.

Jane puts a reassuring hand on her upper back, stroking lightly with her thumb. 

Another attendant comes up behind the first, a garment bag in her hands. “I think I found the only one in that size, but,” she pulls the bag away, revealing the patterned suit in all its glory.

Katherine can only stare at it. Jane laughs and nudges her lightly. “Go on now, love, let’s try it on.”

Katherine takes the suit almost reverently and Jane laughs slightly at the adorable way her wide eyes stare at the fabric. She disappears into the dressing room in a rush and Jane notices one of the attendants, an older woman, stifle a laugh. The attendant sees her looking and smiles. “Her enthusiasm is so cute.” Jane smiles back, realising the woman was being sincere and not making fun of Katherine.

When Katherine exits the dressing room she has a beaming smile on her face.

“Give us a twirl!” one of the attendants says, and Katherine obliges, her ponytail swishing after her. The attendants give her a little round of applause which makes her laugh, but then she turns to look at Jane. “So, mum,” she says with a half-giggle, “what do you think?”

Jane is speechless for a moment, tears in her eyes. 

Katherine feels her esteem crumbling, afraid that she had upset Jane. Of course she shouldn’t wear a suit, she reasons, she should wear a dress like all the other girls will. Jane was a traditionalist. She would like Katherine to wear-

“Kat,” Jane breathes. “You look amazing.” She looks her up and down, a radiant smile on her lips, and brings up a hand to rest on Katherine’s cheek. “My gorgeous girl.”

“You- you really think so?” Katherine’s smile grows again, relieved. Jane nods, pride welling in her chest.

“I do, love.” She takes another moment to marvel at the suit, then reaching up to gently pull Katherine’s hair free of its hairband. She arranges it over her shoulders and then smiles at Kat, the tears back in her eyes. “Goodness, look at you! You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

The three attendants all nod in agreement. “You do look lovely, lass. I think it’s just what you needed,” the first one says. 

Katherine blushes, but it’s Jane’s opinion that really matters. Hearing her say those things makes her feel like butter inside, sending the genuine affection and pride in her words. Before she knows it, she throws her arms around Jane. “Thanks mum,” she whispers.

Jane returns the hug immediately, hand rubbing gentle circles on Katherine’s upper back.

“I'm only telling the truth, love,” she chuckles. When Katherine pulls back she grins at Jane.

“And you know who else is gonna look amazing?” She grabs the dress Jane had tried on earlier from the chair where it had been placed and presses it into Jane’s hands. “C’mon, put it back on! We’ve got to take some selfies.”

Jane laughs at Katherine’s enthusiasm, but relents and puts the dark purple gown on again. She smooths it out gently, a smile on her lips as she joins her daughter in the main room. 

All the attendants start fanning themselves. “You both look so beautiful!” They fawn. 

Jane throws an arm around Katherine’s shoulder, pulling her close. “You really do look lovely, Kat, absolutely perfect,” she murmurs, low enough so the attendants don’t hear.

Katherine’s smile is radiant and she mumbles another thanks. “You  do too, mum. And... thanks for helping me find something. I know I'm difficult sometimes but-”

“You’re not difficult, Kat,” Jane says firmly. “You just needed to find something you were comfortable with, and we found something in no time at all, didn’t we?” She presses a kiss to the side of Katherine’s head. “And it’s perfect for you, love.”

Katherine blushes slightly and curls further into Jane for just a moment before she pulls her phone out of her pocket. The attendants see what she’s doing and reach out to retrieve it. 

They take one normal picture, one posed, and then one more, where the two other attendants are holding black screens with the boutiques name on it in front of the pair, only their heads visible. 

“Placement, you know?” One laughs. “Plus  you can’t show off your looks before the red carpet. Gotta knock them dead.”

So Katherine ultimately posts the one with the screens. “Ready to hit the Kholer carpet with my always #1,” the caption reads. “Love you so much @janeyseymour,” it continues.

As soon as they get home Jane makes sure both outfits are neatly put away, ready for the ceremony. The time flies by, and with each passing day the atmosphere amongst the queens gets more and more excited. Both Katherine and the cast album were up against some steep competition and nobody wanted to jinx it, but the idea that they might actually win was getting more and more real by the second. On the morning of the Kholer Awards, all the queens were practically buzzing. Even Parr’s normally calm demeanour had shifted.

Of course it wasn’t that easy, because they still had a show that afternoon.

It was an energetic performance, full of buzz and light about the awards that evening, something Parr and Aragon both were sure to mention at the shows conclusion. 

The queens reconvened in the theater lobby an hour and a half later, ready to go. Jane wore her gown, hair pulled up into an elaborate bun. 

Katherine enters a moment later, and Jane can barely keep herself from bursting into tears again. The suit looks just as perfect as it did two weeks ago, Katherine’s hair curled and pulled into soft ringlets over her shoulders. 

“Kat,” Jane whispers. “You look...amazing, love.”

Katherine gives her a beaming smile. “Thanks, mum. You look beautiful too.”

“What the hell, Kitty?” Boleyn’s voice yells from behind them, signalling the arrival of the other queens. “Who gave you the right to look that amazing?” Jane stifles a laugh as Boleyn wraps an arm around Katherine’s shoulder and pretends to ruffle her hair (although without actually touching it). “Aw, my little baby cousin is all grown up!”

Aragon ignores both Boleyn’s teasing and Katherine’s yelp of mock-annoyance as she approaches the group. “Come on queens, one photo before we go,” she instructs in a business-like fashion, despite the fact she looks about as giddy as everyone else.

Jane and Katherine occupy the right side of the picture, Jane’s arm looped tightly around Katherine’s waist. They hold still for the picture, then didn’t let go until they got to the car. 

Except the car wasn’t there. 

A limo had apparently been rented for the evening, courtesy of the Kholer Awards. 

It was a smooth and fun 45 minute ride to the awards show, but as soon as they arrive and Katherine sees the paparazzi and the people waiting for them, the color drains from her face.

Jane notices almost immediately and takes Katherine’s hand. “I'm here, Kat,” she says softly with a gentle squeeze of her hand. Katherine gives her a weak smile, looking slightly nauseous.

“We don’t have to stay long on the red carpet if you don’t want to,” Jane reassures her. “and I'll be with you every step of the way.”

Parr notices the conversation and leans across. “If you’d like the rest of us to handle the press, then you two can go on ahead. It’s up to you, kid.”

Katherine swallows and clutches Jane’s hand tightly, not intending to let go. She takes a few breaths, then reopens her eyes, a fresh determination and renewed excitement in her expression. 

The six of them exit the limo and are immediately swallowed by the press and the paparazzi. 

“Katherine Howard!” one interviewer calls out. “How does it feel to be nominated for such a prestigious award?”

She feels Jane squeeze her hand. “It really is an honor. That song means a lot to me,” she answers honestly. 

The interviewer nods enthusiastically. He looks at his phone quickly then back to Katherine. “Our viewers are loving your look, Katherine! What inspired the suit look for you?”

Katherine grips Jane’s hand just a bit tighter and for a moment Jane wonders if she should usher Katherine away, but then Katherine speaks.

“It just felt right. My mum actually helped me pick it out.” The adoption was common knowledge at this point and the interviewer looks over at Jane with a smile.

“Would you like to add anything to that, Jane?” He asks.

“Just  that I'm so proud of Katherine,” Jane says, “and that I'm so happy to be here with her today.”

The interviewer looks pacified, but there are still a dozen more to fight through before they enter the gala, all asking similar questions about Katherine’s bold suit, how Katherine was feeling being nominated against West End legends, and even one or two asking about how Jane and Katherine were getting on together. They answer as many as they could, then manage find the others and make their way to their seats, eagerly awaiting the beginning of the show. 

The awards start with the smaller categories. The girls were disheartened when they didn’t win orchestrations or choreography, but the other two were the big ones they were waiting for. 

“And the Kholer Award for Best Original Cast Album goes to…,” the announcer pauses and Jane and Katherine hold each other’s hands tightly. “The Light on the 23rd Floor: A New West End Musical!”

The atmosphere amongst the entire group deflated slightly, even as they clapped along to congratulate the winners. Katherine hears Aragon muttering something in Spanish under her breath but she’s focused on Jane, who gives her a half-smile.

“It’s okay, love. being nominated was honour enough,” she whispers. “And we’ve still got your category to be announced.”

Katherine, on the other hand, already knows the outcome, or at least she thinks she does. There would be no way she’d win if the cast album didn’t, not when the queens sounded so amazing on it.

The announcers carry on with the awards: best lights, best supporting actor and actress, best musical direction, innovation in music, best live performance by an actor in a musical. 

Then, after ‘The Light on the 23rd Floor’ had their performance, Best Live Performance by ann Actress in a Musical was to be presented. 

“This year, theater critics travelled to the seven new shows that opened on the West End and evaluated every performer, narrowing the list down to just four actresses. The nominees are: Rebecka Smalton, Basketcase; Loelle Jackson, Icecaps; Tabitha O’Connors, Light on the 23rd Floor, and Katherine Howard, Six the Musical.”

Katherine feels Jane take her hand and grip it when her name is called, but she is so nervous she can barely react. 

“And the award goes to…,” the silence seems to last forever. “Katherine Howard, Six the Musical!”

It doesn’t quite hit Katherine that she’s won until Jane turns to her, beaming with pride, and whispers, “you did it!”

She gets up, legs slightly shaking from adrenaline, and she’s ushered to the stage as the crowd applauds and cheers- for her, she realises. They heard her story and they like her. A giddy grin grows on Katherine’s face as she ascends the stairs to the stage and the presenters hand her a glass trophy, engraved with ‘Best Live Performance by an Actress in a Musical.’

They step back and gesture towards the microphone, expecting her to speak. Katherine then realizes she doesn't have anything prepared, she was so sure she wouldn't win. She steps towards the mic and clears her throat nervously. She catches Jane, about twenty rows back, and she gives her a little thumbs-up.

Katherine looks down at the trophy then back to the crowd. "I never expected this to happen tonight," she speaks honestly, a lightness in her voice. "Or ever for that matter. I'd like to thank the critics association, the Kholer judges, our fans, and my amazing co stars. Aragon, you keep my head on straight where I know I would lose it, Anna, I know I can count on you for back up when I need it. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for. Boleyn, you infuriate me, but I still love you with my whole heart, and Parr...you're one of the sweetest souls I've ever met. I love you all so much."

Then she sees Jane, smiling and teary-eyed and her throat constricts slightly.

“And finally, to Jane,” Katherine tries her best to keep it together. “For, um, for those of you who don’t know, a few months ago Jane formally adopted me, and so this is for my mum. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” She tears up slightly, choking on her words, but powers through. “You’ve helped me more than you’ll possibly ever realise, and I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you.” Even over rows and rows of seats, Jane meets her eyes and Katherine feels her heart burst with love, giving her enough confidence to finish her speech. “Lastly, I just wanted to say... this award is for everyone who has a story like mine. Thank you to everyone who’s let me tell my story, and to everyone who’s listened to it.” She raises the trophy once in the air as the audience applauds, and she thinks she can hear a group of distinct familiar voices cheering for her in the twentieth row.

She leaves the stage and walks up the aisle, a spotlight trailing her as she goes. She doesn’t even make it to her seat before Jane pulls her into the tightest hug. 

Unbeknownst to them both, a camera had followed, and their heartfelt moment was broadcast for the who audience to see, but neither really cared. 

“I'm so proud of you, love,” Jane whispers tearily. “So, so proud.”

Katherine can’t find the words to respond so she just hugs Jane tighter, hoping that Jane realises just how much Katherine loves her and that this award was just as much hers as it was Katherine’s. They only break apart when a kindly-looking usher apologetically interrupts asking them to return to their seats. When they sit down, Jane wraps an arm around Katherine’s shoulders and Katherine gently leans against her, resting her head on Jane’s shoulder as she clutches the trophy in her lap. Neither of them pay much attention through the rest of the awards, as much as they try to, far too overwhelmed by pride and happiness and most of all, love.

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[luizemi]

Some fluff for Christmas

Merry Christmas @bluemoonfantasiesiii!! 

Here’s my take for SL 2019 Secret Santa: some soft KuroMahiSaku for you! I hope you enjoy this Christmas as much as your boys do ~ 

“You could dodge that, loser.”

“Apparently I couldn’t!”

“Loser.”

Sakuya represses the urge to throw the joystick at Kuro’s face. The boy does not even seem angry, sitting perfectly still on the carpet, his eyes stuck on the TV screen. 

“I’ll get done with that stage in a minute. Watch and learn.”

Sakuya mimics the self-proclaimed e-sport champion. Why does he even ask Sakuya to play with him? It is not as if he needed his help… Well, guess at least it means he is part of the furniture now. Sakuya sighs. He can hear the vacuum cleaner from the other room. He would go and help Mahiru, but the brunette has forbidden his mates to cross the kitchen’s threshold. It is his kingdom, after all. 

Sakuya squints back at the screen. Kuro has effortlessly completed the stage, and the list of his achievements appears. He stretches out. 

“Mahiru! Can I eat chips?”

A muffled scream comes from the kitchen. Sakuya muses:

“Translation: you will wait for dinner in due time like everybody, you lazybones.”

“But I need to refill my energy…”

Kuro lets himself fall on the carpet, mumbling about how hard that floor is. Sakuya does not dare saying that he could play on the couch, like any normal human being – first, they do not belong to this category; second, he knows the answer. 

“I can’t bring out all my skills by just sitting normally!”

Hence both of them playing right in front of the TV, on the floor. Most of the time, Mahiru keeps an eye on them from the couch, encouraging their progress and giving Sakuya knowing looks each time Kuro auto-congratulates for his own successes. As for today, Christmas 24th, Shirota has been too busy completing his angel in the house duty. Since the first lights of dawn, the boy has been up, rummaging in every room of the tiny flat. The others started to be really concerned when he locked himself up in his bedroom. From the living room, they could hear thuds and scrapings. But Mahiru would always answered that he was perfectly okay. As usual. 

“You are not focused, Watanuki”, Kuro snaps. 

His avatar comes just in time to rescue Sakuya’s, about to fall from a cliff for the nth time. 

“Do you even know how to hold a joystick?”

Sakuya rolls his eyes as the blue-haired boy crawls behind him. Kuro places his hands over Sakuya’s, and guides his fingers. The avatar performs a perfect backflip.

“Was that necessary?” Sakuya mutters.

“Absolutely not. But it was super awesome.”

Despite his choice of words, Kuro’s voice sounds as bored as usual. He puts his head on Sakuya’s shoulder and whispers:

“I’ll train the shit out of you. We’re going to become video games super stars. After all, we got a huge refund incoming…”

“Shh!!”

Sakuya knocks Kuro’s head with the joystick. How could one be such a goofball! The boy lets out a forced moan. He brings all of his weight on Sakuya’s shoulders, proceeding to make his fall on the carpet. Maintaining the green-haired boy on the floor with his arm under his neck, Kuro whines:

“Mahiru! I’m being tortured!”

“Who’s persecuting who?!” 

“Help me…”

The vacuum cleaner stops. They hear a few steps coming their way. Sakuya struggles his best, but Kuro is surprisingly strong. He has not moved an inch when Mahiru’s face appears above theirs.

“Can’t you stop being dorks for a few seconds?”

Dishevelled and upside-town, the boys glance at each other, kids caught in the act. Mahiru stares at them, his arms crossed, trying hard to look like a strict father figure. As they sit back quietly, the TV produces the jingle of a “game over”. Kuro lets out a deep sigh and grabs one of Mahiru’s legs:

“I’m desperately hungry.”

“You’ve done nothing all day long!”

“And you’ve been doing way too much,” Sakuya steps in. “And refused our help. Meanwhile, night is falling, and all we’ve done is sitting on this carpet, doing close to nothing, as you said…”

“Green bean is right. Not that I’m against lying on the carpet, though.”

Sakuya elbowed the blue-haired boy. Kuro goes down as if he had been severely hurt by the attack. He goes on:

“Mahiru… It’s only Christmas Eve, and with just the three of us. What about watching a movie on the couch until we fall asleep?”

“We already do that every day,'' Sakuya sighs.

Kuro fails to see the issue of this perfectly sane routine. Before they start to bicker again, Mahiru takes a deep breath. Then, he crouches to be at the boys’ level, and puts his hands on their shoulders:

“I’m almost done...”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Actually, I even need you to do something.” 

Kuro and Sakuya exchange a look. They nod – as long as it doesn’t imply running errands in a crowded supermarket as they did this morning. Mahiru smiles softly.

“You go get ready in the bathroom.” 

The boys glare at him:

“That’s not actual help, you know.”

“But this room is the only one left! Once you come back, I swear everything will be ready and I’m all yours for the evening!”

Jointly, Kuro and Sakuya leap on Mahiru. The brunette lets out a scream as he ends up stuck on the floor under his mates. Sakuya pokes his forehead:

“What do we win by letting you go?”

“We do not look like it, but we can be very demanding,” Kuro adds.

Mahiru cannot help but chuckle. Which is difficult with such a heavy weighs on his body. 

“I’ll be… the nicest… Christmas present…”

As he seems ready to suffocate, they decide to free him. Reluctantly, they even oblige to his request. Left on the carpet to catch his breath, Mahiru shouts:

“Oh, and don’t go in the bedroom!”

Sakuya stops to voice what has been on his mind for a few hours now:

“Oh yeah, about that… Have you like, destroyed it earlier?”

“Talk about a zealous housewife,” Kuro says from the bathroom.

“Just don’t get in!” Mahiru articulates.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sakuya turns around to help Mahiru getting up:

“What, have you hidden our presents in it?”

“I might,” Mahiru secretively smiles. 

Sakuya raises an eyebrow. Why so secretive? He strokes the brunette’s hair, attempting to put it back into order. Despite having worked all day, Mahiru’s face still glows. The green-haired boy pouts:

“You already are a perfect present in our lives every day, you know.”

Mahiru slightly blushes. His smile broadens. Sakuya feels his cheeks heating as well. Sakuya! Focus! You’ve got a mission! He claps his hands and shouts:

“Kuro, wait for me, you have no idea how to dress up!”

“I am a free and independent man!”

“Yeah, my ass, you lazybones…”

Sakuya disappears in the corridor. Mahiru laughs – they may be dorks, but they are cute ones. He rolls up his sleeves. Chores are not going to do themselves!

Table has been laid. Candles lit. A small tree adorned with way too many decorations for his height. Sakuya has just put the star at the stop of it when Mahiru joins the living room, finally ready to celebrate Christmas as well. Kuro is busy playing with the multi-coloured light bulbs of one of the wreaths. Upon this sight, Mahiru burst into laughter:

“You’re really cute!!” he manages to say. 

Sakuya looks down to Kuro. He opens his hand to the skies – maybe chores have finally driven their friend crazy. 

“We should take a pic,” Mahiru offers, taking out his phone. “Also, we have to call Licht, it’s his birthday!”

“I have no wish to hear my little brother’s voice on this holy eve,” Kuro sighs.

“Kuro! Don’t be an ass! Come on, raise up, you’re not on the pic.”

The selfie taken and posted on Instagram, the trio sits down to dinner. 

As expected of him, Mahiru has thought of everything. And most likely become the grocer’s number one client. An assortment of grilled food is followed by fried rice, with seasoned vegetables. Kuro and Sakuya fight over the remaining ginger, only to decide to let it to Mahiru in the end. They find comfort in the mandarin desserts Mahiru baked on his own. Drowned under the compliments of his mates, the brunette cleverly changes subject by offering to exchange presents. Kuro and Sakuya agree – as one, they go to the room, closely followed by Mahiru. Before opening the door, Kuro hesitates:

“Wait. We can come in, now?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mahiru answers with a polite smile. 

Not very convinced, the boys open the door together. They stay on the threshold, bewildered. 

  Inside the small room, right where Mahiru’s bed used to be, lies a king-sized bed, so ridiculously enormous that it seems the walls are pushing themselves to make some space. The boys’ eyes go from the mattress to their host. Mahiru opens his arms, a pinched smile on his face, as he is obviously repressing laughter. 

“Merry Christmas from uncle Tohru to the three of us!”

Upon hearing the man’s name, the faces of the other two become even more amazed – and red. Mahiru cannot hold back any longer. He burst out laughing – now those faces would be worth the pic! 

Sakuya scrapes his neck, slowly getting a grip on himself. He opens the mouth to say something, but Kuro snaps out of it first:

“This… Is another level of dad joke.”

“It sure is! But well, you know my uncle, that’s just how he is. Also, you can’t sleep on the floor or the couch for the rest of your lives.”

There is nothing to be said against that. However, Sakuya comes across another realisation:

“So this was all the hustle and bustle earlier!”

Kuro freezes:

“Stupid Mahiru, did you just build a bed this size on your own?”

The boy chuckles, kind of proud. Luckily, the boys had accepted to go shopping when he received the parcel. And no, they were not to worry, the delivery man helped him hiding the bed base and the mattress in the huge closet. Though it was true he had all the troubles taking them out of it, hence the noises… Apart from that, the instructions were rather easy to follow! Most of all, he was astonished about how his uncle had the dimensions of the room correct. One inch more, and the whole thing would never have fit in… 

“But well, not that you care about that stuff! For the serious presents now!” declares Mahiru suddenly. 

Still in shock, each of them go and fetch theirs, before sitting on the new bed, very gently, as if it were that fragile. Sakuya looks carefully at the others – after all, he never had a proper Christmas, it was just his sisters and him exchanging home-made gifts… He has no idea how to proceed. Moreover, he is sure Kuro’s not the best example either. How many years has it been since the ancestor has had a Christmas party? Decades? Or centuries?

  Ignoring the embarrassment of his mates, Mahiru holds to them one present each. They are neatly wrapped in red paper, adorned with little Christmas trees. Sakuya squints. Kuro’s is bigger. The blue-haired boy seems to notice Sakuya’s looks. He sighs:

“We open them together… 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Kuro holds out a small white pillow. On one side “Sleepy” is written in gold letters. He blinks at Mahiru.

“Still better than the carpet, right?”

Voiceless, Kuro slowly nods. He turns to Sakuya. The boy seems as stunned as he is: he has found two soft wristbands, one firefly green and the other fuchsia. He puts them on with extreme carefulness. Mahiru puts his hand on his shoulder. Sakuya cannot but notice he is wearing the very wristband he has offered him, it seems so long ago…

“It matches with your headphones,” Mahiru smiles.

Then he turns back to Kuro:

“Well, that’s all for me! It’s not muc-“

“Oh come on, you know you are already everything to us,” Kuro mumbles. 

Mahiru is taken aback. Sakuya as well, kind of – hasn’t he said something very similar just earlier this afternoon? Before he could add anything, Kuro holds out to him a parcel, wrapped in a funny way, as if he had asked a random kid on the street to do it for him. Sakuya accepts the present without any comment, though. The wrapping paper was disproportionate in comparison to what is inside: a video game tape, probably from the previous century. Sakuya is not even sure he has ever heard of the console.

“Not the kind of game you can finish on your own,” Kuro explains. “Even for a pro like me.”

Sakuya shakes in head in surprise. He actually… Wants to play with him? He does really enjoy it?

“Well don’t look at me like that! Never heard of retro gaming?”

The blue-haired boy looks away. However he is not quick enough to hide the blush of his cheeks. Without letting him any rest, Sakuya gives his present. 

“It’s soft…” Kuro remarks, making the other chuckles. “You do really think I’m a big baby, don’t you?” 

They laugh even more as he opens the wrapping paper. It is a black cat kigurumi! Mahiru can barely catch his breath upon this discovery. Too bad for him, the phone rings precisely at this moment. Trying to calm down, he tells the boys to test their new bed, and hurries to pick up. 

“Hi dearest nephew! Just calling to say that the three of you are the coolest and cutest!! Also, merry Christmas!”

A lot of noise is surrounding Tohru. Mahiru does not want to know where his uncle has decided to spend Christmas – after all, he was kind enough to let him having the flat. However…

“You’ve checked on Instagram, haven’t you?”

Tohru has a small laughter. Mahiru sighs:

“You know you could simply have left a comment, like basically anybody does?”

“I know, I know,” Tohru chuckles. But you see, you three remind me of the good old days! I wanted to wish you all the best in person!”

“You’re the one who refused to spend the night with us, uncle…”

“I sure did! Y’know, I wasn’t going to step in your intimacy!”

Mahiru sighs. He cannot help but being amused by his uncle’s behaviour. Tohru has always tried his best to be here for him – backing off must be pretty difficult. Apart from the fact that Tohru is not exactly the subtle type. 

“The boys loved your present.”

“Oh, did they? I’m glad then! You definitely couldn’t let them on the floor, right? It fits in your room?”

“Just fine. Though we don’t really have space for any other furniture now, but well. As long as Kuro’s got his console and Sakuya his music, we’re fine.”

“Great, great! Well then, I guess I’ll leave you to whatever juicy meal you’ve concocted…”

Mahiru nods. For a moment, he tries to focus on Tohru’s surroundings again. Music, but not directly near him. No one is speaking. Could it be – 

“Merry Christmas, uncle.”

“Same to you, son! Salute the boys for me!”

“I will…”

He hesitates. Lowers his voice.

“Tell Touma I wish him a merry Christmas as well. Wherever he is…”

Tohru makes a pause. Mahiru hears what sounds like a mused sigh. But it is with a composed tone that his uncle answers:

“I will. Have fun, Mahiru.”

He hangs up. 

With a concerned look on his face, Mahiru opens the door of the bedroom. His distress vanishes as soon as he enters. Kuro, wearing his kigurumi and holding his pillow against his chest, rolls over himself on the whole width of the bed. Doing so, he disturbs Sakuya, who is spreading his limbs all over the mattress. He looks just like a starfish, being rolled over by some kind of dangerous but limited creature. The giggles are back for Mahiru. 

  He crashes on the mattress, falling on Sakuya. Kuro, unshakable, goes on rolling. Mahiru grasps his ankle, pulling him next to him. Conscientious, the cat rolls just over his master. Upon the protestations from the boys, he meows. Sakuya moans, but there is not anything he can do really – so he just ends up laughing as well. Kuro quickly joins the hilarity.

  The fit of laughter behind them, the boys help Mahiru sitting up. Kuro hides the brunette’s face with his pillow, while Sakuya swiftly holds out a small envelope from his shirt’s pocket. After the brunette has struggled a bit, Sakuya decides the suspense has lasted enough. He winks at Kuro, who obliges to set Mahiru free. Bewildered, the boy discovers the envelope. He gazes at his mates. What could these two have worked out?

“Open it”, Kuro whispers.

“Oh thank you, he’s not that stupid”, Sakuya sighs.

They stare each other out, but their soft bickering is interrupted by Mahiru’s startle.

“G – Guys! What the…”

Kuro pats the boy’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s holidays for you, dear.”

“Holi – Oh my…”

He fails to find words. For all he can remember, he has never gone on holidays… His mother could not afford it, and Tohru is always so busy…

“Told you”, Sakuya grins at Kuro.

“B-But with what money…?”

Kuro cuts him:

“No, no, no, we’re not having this discussion right now.”

Mahiru raises up his glistening eyes to meet Sakuya’s gaze. The boy raises his shoulders. A week of holidays for the three of them… Doesn’t seem that bad, does it? And deeply deserved. The brunette vaguely nods, breathing heavily. Kuro jokes:

“Do not worry, we’ll become e-sport champion and take you with us on tour.”

“You, and the bed. We can’t let it here.”

“He’s right. We absolutely can’t.”

Mahiru still manages to laugh. He lets himself fall onto the bed, followed by his partners. To be in such good company for Christmas… Yes, that is definitely something to be proud of. 

  The bells ring midnight. Outside in the starry night, fireworks are launched. They can hear the neighbours raising up from their chairs and cheering at Christmas. But here, holding hands in silence, the three of them are just at peace. And they are more than proud of it. Slowly, the agitation settles down. Dinners have to be over, guests are taking their leaves, fireworks have stopped lighting the festive city. And a soft voice whispers:

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

“Merry Christmas, Mahiru.”