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willwriteforhugs · 3 years

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you saved me- park seonghwa

seonghwa x reader - one shot !

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, meet-cute

synopsis: a busy and cold winter day leads you to a (very close) brush with death. but a stranger seems to be in just the right place at just the right time...

warnings: mentions of loneliness, near car accident (nothing too serious)

a/n:

me as i open tumblr with the intent of actually posting for once: god i need to go post something so i feel less bad about being alive

so, anyways. first seonghwa fic- which is really just a long drabble. i always knew i wanted a seonghwa meet-cute, and this idea just seemed to suit him... please remember that this is for entertainment purposes only, though, so be respectful! (also, ^^^THIS genre of seonghwa pic, with the grainy filter and the tan...bruh...)

anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always- thank you for reading :)

- - -

your breath comes out in short, angry puffs, which you can see reflected in the cold afternoon air. the temperature in seoul is absolutely freezing, and you are not dressed for it. when you had left for work this morning, (in your standard sweater + jeans combo) you clearly were not anticipating that the sky would dump snow all day long. you long desperately for your warm winter coat.

so now, here you are: jogging, but only as quickly as you feel is safe in this weather. your condo is only a few blocks down- hence why you had walked in the first place, and why you hadn’t brought cash to pay for a bus. but god, the cold is just piercing.

the streets are practically empty, because of the terrible weather. so, at the very least, you are spared the embarrassment of having to waddle awkwardly on the ice in front of others.

but, to add to the stress- your day had seriously not gone as planned.

when you first took it, you thought that the simple receptionist job would be easy- and doubly so with the convenient location. but these past few weeks were proving you wrong, today especially. while being distracted by coworkers, you accidentally put an important client on a somewhat permanent hold, and ruined a potential sale. as if that wasn’t enough, the next call you routed to a completely different office by mistake, earning you a strict talking to by the supervisor.

so, to put it plainly: you were tired, annoyed, and cold. so. freaking. cold.

heaving a sigh, you continue your jog/waddle towards your street corner, which is two intersections away. faintly, you can hear a city bus approaching, the one that always stops near your work building. from where you are standing, the bus will be driving perpendicular to you, and you cock your head in thought. you don’t need the shuttle itself, since you live so close, but you wonder how close the bus is now...

feeling a sudden burst of energy, you speed up a bit, challenging yourself to beat the bus to the empty corner, even though you know it won’t stop there. this is something you do often- set up little games for yourself. it’s mostly an attempt to stay busy, but- though you’d never admit it, it helps with the loneliness too. when you race against the clock (say, to make a speedrun to the copy room at work) it almost feels like you are competing against an old friend.

you obviously know that you can’t beat the bus, but the thought itself is entertaining, so you throw caution to the wind. your feet slap the pavement as you run, and you hear yourself laugh a little. the cold air rushing by your cheeks helps distract you from your own thoughts.

you sprint through an empty intersection, and as you approach the final corner- having obviously lost the race to the bus- you begin to slow down a bit. but as you near the end of the sidewalk, (which is parallel to the moving bus, whose hulking body is getting ready to pass you) you feel your previous momentum get the better of you.

you stumble off of the curb- and right into a vicious patch of ice on the waiting asphalt.

it happens in slow motion: your feet slide harshly backwards, and you scramble for any traction- but to no avail. you hear yourself cry out as you fall forward, right into the path of the oncoming shuttle.

you slam your eyes shut.

but instead of hitting the ground, or the bus, a sudden weight catches you around your middle and lurches backwards. you scream again, certain you’ve already died.

you hear the sound of the bus honking as it speeds by- the only thing traveling faster than it is your frantic pulse.

you hit the ground hard, with all of your weight on your left shoulder and hip. even so, you start with the relief of knowing the bus didn’t even graze you.

only after a moment do you realize why it hadn’t.

someone had caught you.

grabbed you from behind, and used their whole body weight to get the two of you to safety.

you lurch forward, startled. as you turn around, you see him lying on the ground, in the same position you were in just seconds before- and you meet the eyes of the person who’d just saved you.

it’s a man- a young one. and good god, he’s beautiful, too. the boy on the ground before you is seriously the epitome of korean beauty- large, dark eyes, an open face, and full lips. as soon as he opens his mouth, you wonder at how his teeth could possibly be so perfect.

it takes you a moment of staring before you realize he’s speaking to you.

“um.” your voice breaks. “what?”

the boy scrambles onto his knees, shuffling towards you. “i asked if you’re alright- are you hurt?” his voice is concerned, and his hands flutter about your face- too wary to touch you, but clearly wanting to.

his eyes are more genuine than you can even take in, and you hesitate at the whole scene- what the hell is happening? did you hit your head?

you stutter, trying to make sense of the situation. the boy leans back on his heels as you finally catch your breath.

your words are breathy, but deliberate. “you- you saved me.”

the boy tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “yes, i suppose i did.” a beat passes before he continues. his eyes, though now bordering on playful, still look worried. “you probably shouldn’t be running in this sort of weather.”

you heave a sigh that comes out in a laugh. “yeah, i realize that now.”

your counterpart picks himself up off the ground, brushing off his front. he then extends a hand towards you. you stare at it for a moment, confused. for a moment, he looks down at you intently, waiting. your puzzlement passes, and you blush as you cautiously place your palm in his, allowing him to help you up.

“i’m seonghwa, by the way. park seonghwa.” the man- no, seonghwa looks down at you, letting his sentence hang.

you clear your throat, feeling a harsh wave of embarrassment at the situation. “um- i’m y/n.”

seonghwa nods at you, taking a step back. his brow is furrowed. “well, y/n-ssi- you didn’t actually tell me if you were hurt or not. do you feel dizzy? nauseous?”

you throw your hands up in protest, not wanting to cause any more distress than you already had. “no, uh- i’m fine, really. maybe a little bruised, but i’m okay. i think it would be a bigger problem if you were hurt...”

you are not exaggerating- you can only imagine the guilt you would feel if he’d been injured.

seonghwa represses a smile. “i’m alright too. you did startle me, though. thought i was about to witness something pretty terrible...”

at this, you give a surprised chuckle. “yeah, i’m so sorry...you really came out of nowhere, huh? i seriously didn’t even know you were there until i was on the ground!”

this time, it’s his turn to laugh. “yeah, those bus stops provide great cover.”

the two of you settle into a stiff silence, and you can practically hear your heart pounding- both with leftover adrenaline, as well as the sudden nerves that seonghwa was giving you.

“here,” he says, breaking the quiet. “take this.” he shrugs off his long winter coat, and before you can argue, he’s reached over and settled it on your shoulders. the relief is near instantaneous, but you find yourself a bit too tongue-tied to thank him.

you sigh again, determined to get the words out. “oh, god, i really am so sorry about that, um-” you stutter. “i really should thank you, for the coat. but also-” you take a deep breath. “thank you, park seonghwa, for saving my life.”

at this, the man actually blushes. he reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “no, really, it was just a gut reaction...”

you shake your head, insistent. “it doesn’t matter. i could have died, but you prevented that. now-” you can feel yourself gaining confidence. “what can i do to repay you?”

seonghwa’s face, which had previously harbored a look of child-like innocence, suddenly turns mischievous.

you tilt your head, indicating an answer.

his smug smile is full now, chin tilted upwards. “i actually do have a request.”

“okay, shoot.”

“you’ll do anything i ask?”

you frown, narrowing your eyes in an almost flirtatious way. “i suppose i have a few limits...”

to your surprise, seonghwa interrupts you, eyes twinkling. “you’ll repay me- by allowing me to take you out on a date, y/n.”

your mind goes fully blank for a moment.

...huh?

you blink in shock, not being able to suppress your initial reaction. “wait, come again?”

“will you go on a date with me?”

you stare at him- this terrifyingly beautiful man was asking you on a date? after you’d fully humiliated yourself in front of him? what on earth?

suddenly, before you can even finish the thought, you find yourself nodding. “i suppose i can arrange that.”

seonghwa’s smile is completely smug at this point. “does tonight work?”

you bite your lip, heart pounding despite the chilly weather. your voice comes out in a whisper: “yes, i suppose tonight works.”

seonghwa tries to bury his smile and looks at the ground. “that’s great.” he pauses, allowing his gaze to flit back to you. “do you- i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you want me to walk you home?”

you smile, but shake your head. “it’s alright, i live close. here- i’ll give you my number, though.”

you dig through your work satchel for a piece of paper and scribble your phone number on it. when you extend it, he accepts the slip, still trying to suppress his grin.

a beat passes, and the two of you look at each other intently.

and with that, seonghwa reaches down and gently takes your hand, glancing at your face to make sure the action is alright with you. when you don’t pull away, he lifts it up and presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, holding your gaze the entire time. his lips are cold, an unlikely and romantic nod to the temperature.

you feel your neck and cheeks go red, but you smile in an attempt to seem casual. “thanks again, seonghwa. for helping me.”

“of course.” the man’s eyes are twinkling again. “as grim as it sounds, i’m sort of glad it happened. if it hadn’t, i probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”

you smirk in what you hope is a flirtatious manner.

“well,” he continues. “don’t let me keep you. after all, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

seonghwa begins to walk away, then turns back. “although,” he calls over his shoulder. “i’m pretty sure the guy you’re meeting with won’t care what you’re wearing. you could probably show up in your pajamas and he’d still think you were gorgeous. just for the record.”

before you could manage an answer, he turns on his heel and strides away- but even from here, you can tell he still has a goofy grin plastered on his face.

heart pounding, you turn and make your way towards your apartment building.

despite yourself, you also can’t seem to keep the grin off of your face.

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years

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I just read the Erwin date scenarios and it’s so hood AGH could you please do one for armin? Plz 😚

You read my mind👀 ngl I think about Armin each time I write something for Erwin, despite them being alike i like to compare the differences and think they have different tastes and love languages.

Erwin strikes me a more act of services and gift giving guy while Armin would definitely go for words of affirmation and quality time.

Type of dates with Armin PT.1 {pt.2 in masterlist}

{ Armin x reader | tw: none | fluff, romance | modern }

{ "in bloom" by Abbott Fuller Graves 1859–1936 }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday, etc.

1. Spending a full day on the beach: when i say a full day I mean it, he's driving you there really early in the morning while you're struggling to stay awake in the passenger seat. He doesn't even need coffee he's running on 100% pure determination and will.

You'd arrive before anyone there, to get the best spot of course. It's close enough to the sea that you can feel the humidity of the water in the air, yet far enough from the rest of the beach that other people won't bother you.

He'd understand if you were too sleepy to help him set things up, he'd just kiss your forehead before letting you go back to sleep, promising he'll get you something to drink when the stores open.

You wake up to the smell of your favourite hot drink, just around 8am. The sun is up and the air is refreshing, you can hear the quiet chatter of people far away just arriving here. You sip your drink as Armin guides you to the small comfortable space he made, proudly showing off his work.

Please praise him and give him a kiss on the cheek, he will melt.

The rest of the day is spent with you two swimming lazily in the water, feeling the warm sunlight on your skin. Collecting whatever pretty seashell you see, using some to decorate the sandcastle Armin built with you. He takes a pictures of you at seemingly random moments, he promises to show you when he devolps them later.

You help him dry his hair afterwards, he take you to get ice cream. Despite getting you one too, he still ends up sharing his own with you, and if you're up for seconds he'd happily oblige.

When night falls and the people began leaving, the waves of the ocean get a little higher, wind turning colder. Don't worry, Armin thought about that, that's why he brought blankets.

He'd wrap you both in the same one, even holding you close to him, it's for warmth he says and yet he seems like he was looking forward for this. You help him in making a small bonfire, he brought marshmallows.

The rest of the night is spent with you laying against him while huddled in a blanket, looking at the heavens above and the constellation of the stars.

He takes your hand in his, guiding your finger to where polaris is. "It never changes" he says "no matter what" and from that star, he guides you through the formation of the little dipper.

Just right under it, directly under the polaris, begins the big dipper, a close replica to its little sister.

You spend hours like this, looking at the stars as new formations come and go with the time. You were early enough to catch Aries as it was leaving, pleiades, the seven sisters shining brightly next to it.

And just after midnight it was Sirius turn to say goodbye. That's when both of you decided to call it a night, he hugged you close to him, you could feel his heartbeat slowing down, he was oh so warm and tasted just like chocolate and marshmallows when you kissed goodnight.

2. Going on an adventure and trying new things: Armin has the need to try new things and gain new experiences, despite being someone who prefers small groups of friends and getting lost in a book than socialising. It's something that's been a part of him since he was a child, he wants to experience what the world has to offer and won't say no despite how utterly terrifying it can be to him.

And he wants to have those experiences with you, to share his love for the unknown with you, to see your reactions and share his own thoughts. The only thing that's better than going on adventures to him is going on adventures with you.

An adventure could be anything really, it could be going diving underwater or going to that creepy looking supermarket that never closes, you never know. An adventure is an adventure after all. The possibilities are endless.

So don't be surprised when he asks for you to go with him sky diving for his birthday despite knowing how terrfied he is of heights and how even a carnaval ride can make him sick.

Good or bad he doesn't care, he just wants to try and learn everything. He's full of curiosity and surprises that you'd never get bored, although a good thing about him is that he never is unprepared.

Yes he will take you on seemingly dangerous adventures but know that he really deeply thought about this before hand and is prepared for all the different scenarios that could happen, he likes the unknown but he's smart and cautious on how to approche it.

Not to mention that a single adventure can leave him satisfied for a long time before craving a new rush, probably once or twice a year. Just frequent enough to be something to look forward to but not too frequent that it becomes boring or too repetitive, he manages to keep that balance and walk on that thin line.

3. Hot air ballon ride: just imagine, it's early autumn, the weather is just right to wear those cozy yet good looking clothes, the earth seems like it's turning slower than usual as the trees change colours.

Around sunrise or sunset, both of you are high up in the air, the sun clearly in view with the golden clouds surrounding it. The world managing to look so small yet so vast at the same time.

Armin is wearing his favourite sweater and scarf combo, he's holding your hand in his pocket to keep it warm. It's just you and him isolated from the rest of the world like other people dont exist anymore, and strangely he's okay with that, at peace even.

He brings a camera and captures how the sun reflects in your eyes, how the chilly air makes you rub your hands together for warmth and how utterly breathtaking you look.

Beautiful, gorgeous even, these are the only thoughts in his mind at that moment.

And so Armin made a promise to himself that in the far future, when he wants to be even closer to you, to vow his life to yours, he'd propose on a hot air balloon.

But as much as he likes staying up in the air with you being his angel, the process of booking a ride is much more complicated and time consuming than he originally thought. Meaning he doesn't get to enjoy these rare heavenly moments as he wants to.

He needs to make reservations in advance, not to mention how important it is to choose a trustworthy company. Lastly how rides depend on the weather conditions, needing to reschedule if the weather takes a turn to the worse.

4. Visiting the aquarium or planetarium: he's just a boy with oceans for eyes and stars in his smile, can you really blame him for gravitating towards these places? Or for diving too deep in knowledge about the sky above and sea below?

Whenever the weather is too harsh for a beach trip or the sky is too cloudy for a stargazing night, these two places are his to go backups.

He's memorised the place like the back of his hand, no need for a map. Want to see the shark tanks and how they're doing? He'll take you there and introduce to them and the silly nicknames he gave them. Or how about saying hello to the dolphins who'll show off some moves just for your attention, or maybe you miss seeing the adorable penguins wobble around?

He knows endless facts about each fish kind, he makes it seem so fascinating and the way he phrases the information and coats them in milk and honey makes it impossible for you not to engage.

You both could have a slow with few words spoken walk and it still be as interesting, he'd even make special playlists to listen to while walking around and sharing his earphones.

Meanwhile at the planetarium, sometimes in the early mornings you'd run into kids just arriving for their school trip. Racing each other to the solar system panel and looking in amazement when the stars show begins. You and Armin have a nostalgic feeling when watching them, yet when you look at each other you remember how good it feels like to be grown and have someone special.

You never could get bored of seeing the stars, especially not with Armin.

5. Trying a new kind of art: one time you asked him what does he think the meaning of art is, what even is art?

"Art is communication" he said.

Armin has a deep love and appreciation for all kind of art, from classic oil canvas paintings to old greek sculptures. He doesn't pick a side, he likes both the modren and classic.

Music is art, writing is art and even making pottery is a form of art too. He wants to experience it, not for a need to acolmplish something or to rival Shakespeare, but for a need to communicate his emotions in a more subtle and personal way.

Like a secret language only he can decipher the meaning of, after all he was the one to create it.

Whenever he tries a new form of art, his usual fear of failure and absurdly high expectations actually go out the window. There isn't good and bad art, there's just different levels of communication and different styles.

So to him, the act of bringing you both some watercolours and cotton papers to paint on for a date is incredibly intimate, that's his true feelings and emotions he's showing you. But don't worry, he isn't here to take the whole thing seriously, he's actually playful and mellow most of the time.

Or maybe he'd like to make pottery with you, an excuse to put his hands around yours while sitting intimately close, maybe even give your shoulder a couple kisses while you shape the vase you agreed on making.

The next day, you find the finished vase near the window with a sunflower arrangements inside.

It also could be you two sitting next to each other, working together on a page of an adult colouring book or maybe to each one his own book. He'd hog the color blue most of the time so watch out, and don't lend him yours because he will hog it too.

Or maybe as a fun past time, you'd both attempt to make poetry, expect you're getting more and more drunk on the fruit flavoured beer he brought with him. You had fun laughing while reading what you came up with the next morning.

6. Going fruit picking in summer: it's his favourite way to celebrate the arrival of his favourite season, wear something light, pack some lemonade and go enjoy what mother nature has to offer.

You two would walk around in the fields, he's wearing a straw hat to block the sun, he thinks it looks better on you. Both of you looking at the fruits waiting to be picked, choosing the really unique shaped ones, the colourful ones and the especially delicious looking ones.

You might meet some small friends along the way, like a couple ladybugs that were crawling up Armin's arm. Two butterflies dancing in the air and even a frog that's taking a walk from its lake home nearby.

Going home that day with baskets full of different fruits waiting for your use, Armin and you discuss all the different ways you could use them for, like making delicious smoothies, or maybe saving them for baking a pie or cake. Maybe cutting them in small bites and covering them with different kinds of chocolate, maybe just making a fruits salad to enjoy while Armin reads you a book

Or maybe, maybe just washing them and eating them raw. Yeah that option sounds the most appealing after a day of walking through fields in the sun.

He'd feed you some, push them against your lips and smile when your eyes subtly light up at the sweet taste....maybe a kiss after so he could taste it too?

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amphtaminedreams · 3 years

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Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15

Hey to anyone reading!

And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.

The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)

-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-

1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)

-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-

I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart.

2. Alexander McQueen

-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.

3. Brock Collection

-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-

Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.

4. Marc Jacobs

-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-

If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out.

5. Miu Miu

-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-

We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway.

6. Vera Wang

-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-

Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.

7. Burberry

-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.

8. Etro

-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-

Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.

9. Dolce & Gabbana

-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-

D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.

10. Gucci

-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-

Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!

The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.

Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!

Lauren x

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soramel · 3 years

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Curiosity didn’t kill the cat | jjk ff

Part 3

jjkxreader

Prompt: “You’re early,” said the grim reaper with a hint of amusement.

Fantasy au, grimreaper!jungkook, reader, romance, slow-burn

Words: 3.4k approx. Part 3/5

Check this out on my wattpad account! I post one part ahead there.

Hollowing emptiness filled up your chest as a barren land came into view. An empty riverbed covered with ashes. You squinted against the ray of the sun.

You see nothing but the sky's horizon, another glare of light sent you looking down. Your hand served as the only shade against the glaring sun.

Blink.

Everything went dark.

A yearning love.

Your fist was clenched against your heart as it ached from within. You feel butterflies in your stomach. The unsettling yet warm feeling grew and grew until it became too much it made you curl down.

Everything feels soft against your skin. Silk satin draped around your body. You looked up, finding yourself in a bedchamber. Lamps were laid out on the wooden floor and on the tables, lighting up the darkness with dimmed warmth. You saw a man. His back against yours. His shoulder spanned wide as he slipped in a red robe.

Your fingers ached to reach him, to hold.

You lifted your hand.

Then suddenly, you're running on an empty hallway. Things passing in a blur.

Your eyes feel strained, your face drenched wet with sweat and your mouth could taste the salty tears running down your cheeks. Lifting your layered petticoat, the silk of its outer skirt crumpled against your palm.

Despite the confusion, you continued running. You just know you have to.

You have to escape.

They're coming.

Then a sudden realization stopped you in your tracks. As if air was pushed out of your lungs.

A high-pitched cry ripped through the air, like a wounded animal's, but it was from you. You found the helpless sound coming from your throat. You stared down at your arms grasping your body for something you could hold.

You realized you lost everything you fought for.

You're empty, yet you're filled full to the brim. Your cup overflowing with gut-wrenching pain, loss, and grief. Those emotions were deep-rooted from the love you have for him.

It dawned you.

It's all his fault.

The man you thought you love.

It's his fault.

He brought you nothing but suffering. You laid your heart out and sought for the little love he could give.

Yet there's been no one to yearn for but him, the future you could have together, the family you could have built. If things were just different.

A nightmare

That's what it is.

You jolted awake in a cold sweat.

Breathing in and out, you calmed yourself. Everything was just a dream. You're not dead. You're here in...

Whose place is this?

You turned to the creak of a door. Jungkook's all dressed in black. A fedora hat on his hand.

"Y/n," he greeted. "How was your sleep?"

"Jungkook?" you asked. Confused at how you knew his name.

His eyes went wide before nodding. "Yeah, I'm Jungkook, your assigned grim reaper."

You exhaled as you realized last night was not a dream. You died by mistake. In your sweater and pajamas.

"By the way, I have clothes for you. I figured you should come with me. For your safety,"

He then opened his bedroom door wider for you to come in.

The black trench coat felt heavy on your shoulder. Your outfit is similar to his, except the sordid hat on his head. He figured you could look like a grim reaper to ward off any wandering souls. Scaring them might help, save for the starving ones like the woman you encountered last night.

It's been five minutes of standing by on a bus stop. He just stood there and stared off in a distance. On an ordinary day, you thought you'd be stared down by the odd combo of your outfits, but at that moment, your presence was not visible to their eyes.

Jungkook pulled out his tablet as you watch the pedestrians crossing the street, envying how they go on with their mundane routine. Jungkook's brows furrowed as he navigated through the gadget, as if re-reading something.

You saw a ball rolled off the street, its owner chasing after the object. The boy sped off at the last few seconds, oblivious to the truck speeding above the limit.

Pointing your finger to the child, you tried to notify the people around you, "The-the..." you stuttered.

There's no time.

You ran to the boy without much thought, failing to notice you went to your desired position in a blink.

The grim reaper whipped his head up at the air's whoosh. His eyes widened as he saw you pitting yourself against the truck to protect the boy. Jungkook yelled after you, anger and worry bubbling from his chest at your stupidity.

Before he could yank you out of the way, a lapse in time occurred. No one felt it, except the grim reaper who's baby-sitting you.

Then the truck swerved to a different direction, screeching tires marked the road as the driver desperately tried to stop. But it was too late.

Shocked gasps rippled through the watching crowd. You turned back at the boy's sudden cry. He was attended to by his mother whose face was etched with burdening worry. You stared back to the man laying on the pavement. His body being crowded by the bystanders as they called for an ambulance.

A strong grip yanked you to the other side. Jungkook was raging. He was lost for words for a second before ending up shouting, "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

You flinched from the pain of his gripping hold and from fear.

You took a step back.

"I... he's a child. The truck..."

"Why would you interfere?! Is that child's life different from the man's?! Who are you to weigh lives on your hands?! Have you lost your mind?!"

Lips trembling at his outburst, you looked back at the site of the incident. "I didn't know, I didn't mean to..."

I didn't mean to kill him.

You yanked back your arm, covering your ears upon hearing a voice. You stared at Jungkook in horror.

I think I am... I'm going crazy, you thought to yourself.

"He's alive!" Someone from the crowd shouted. The sound of ambulance echoed, approaching in a distance.

Jungkook dragged you to the scene, never letting go of you as he crouched down to hold the man's wrist.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"He'll be fine," he muttered, more like to himself.

"I'm sorry," you told him, guilt laced in your tone.

The rest of the day were all spent in silence. Jungkook fetched two more souls and all the while you were just there beside him as he does his work, basically acting like his shadow.

You were walking down the sidewalk of a business district after sending off his last soul for today. He was supposed to send off three if not for your interference. He should've 6 souls left after this day, but you being in his roster and the child's suddenly shifted fate this morning, he's still 8 souls away from finishing his duty.

He tapped off on his tablet with a resigned hum as he found his schedule empty.

Tucking in the device back to his coat, he stared off across the buildings like an old man.

His gaze then fell to yours. Your eyes filled with innocence as you watch him.

He tutted before continuing walking. You sauntered after, head down.

"Ngghhhh..." you looked up at the noise and almost yelped at the gory looking ghost. His clothes were tattered, but he looks way more decent than the one you encountered last night. His eyes were dazed, staring at you.

Jungkook calmly diverted you to the other side, placing himself between you and the ghost, and you both kept on walking. He patiently said, "Don't stop. He wouldn't dare."

You followed his instruction, but your eyes were somehow glued on the man, seeing one of his shoes is missing. Jungkook hissed, "Eyes ahead."

You flinched and diverted your head forward. Only to face a busy lady engrossed on her phone. Jungkook halted pulling you in front of him to get you out of the way.

It's your first time seeing his face up-close in daylight. It was only then when you noticed that he's not wearing his fedora, his hair is clean-cut short, showing his eyes and ears. His hair is still down but gone were the unruly curls you remembered he was sporting.

"Your hair changed," you muttered, gaze grazing the outline of his face.

Jungkook blinked. Once. Twice.

Flick!

"Aw!" you yelped as you rub your forehead. The area he hit felt pulsing.

You glared him down, "What was that for?!"

He leaned back a bit, cocking his head to the side, "Thought of rebooting your brain. Guess my power's limited."

Your jaw went slack at the insult.

He stepped to the side and continued on walking. He then decided to brief you, "As an ordinary ghost, bumping through a human would mess up both of your energy. It's best to avoid them when you can."

Nodding in understanding, you strolled to his side, carefully avoiding any living humans on the sidewalk.

"Where are we heading?" you asked him.

"Nowhere," he replied.

The both of you kept walking for what felt like an hour. When he took a turn at the end of a curb, you couldn't help but complain, "For how long are we walking, can't you just teleport us to that place? I'm tired."

He turned to you, realization dawning on him. He then looked around and found an empty café. Without saying anything, he walked again.

"Aish, that arrogant jerk. @2^;*&! $%#4," you grumbled under your breath.

Jungkook held the door open for you. It's a wonder that he stays chivalrous when he's like the arrogant narcissistic bastards you've met before. One second he's looking after you, the next he acts as if you're a lint he's living with. A dirt he wants to dust off but will continue to live on his life.

He looked at you indifferently as you passed by with a glare.

You took the seat near a window, then the grim reaper followed, taking the seat in front of you.

The café was relatively empty. Its interiors adorned with fake plants and orchids. The walls were painted with wood and brick-like patterns. The table has a centerpiece of tissue holder, plastered with italics, "A true heart remembers".

Your gaze then turned back to Jungkook. You opened your mouth to say something, but his expression cut you off.

There he goes again.

Looking at you as if you're a parasite he's yet to figure out. His condescending stare ticks off your nerves.

You raised a brow, "What?"

He inhaled with a hiss, then tapped his fingers incessantly on the table as he exhaled.

"I haven't met someone as unfortunate as you," he started.

Lifting a hand closed to a fist, he unfolded his pinky finger, "You're below an average college student,"

followed by the next, "You barely have friends,"

and another, "You died on the way to your solitude, by mistake at that,"

Cocking his head to the side, he spoke to himself this time, his gaze averting yours, "Maybe if you're not a sore loser and attended that party, you could have lived, and I wouldn't be in this dire situation."

"I mean..." he trailed off.

"Nothing's so special about you,"

"Why?" he pouted, wondering as he held his hands up. You scowled. "Aside from brave stupidity, there's nothing much."

You shouted at his relentless insults, startling him.

"Will you really keep this up?" you asked, voice laced with sheer annoyance.

With his eyes wide, he reiterated, "I'm helping you here!"

He waggled his hand beside his forehead, saying, "I've been racking up my brain,"

Then he gestured towards you, "While you create trouble one after the other,"

"Maybe you don't have one. Don't try so hard," you retaliated.

Crossing your arms on your chest, you added, "Maybe if you're not a sore loser and did your life differently, you wouldn't be a grim reaper and you wouldn't have to put up with me."

He closed his mouth at that for a moment, before muttering, "I've been at this job ever since. I'm finishing my duty so I could live as a human."

The rush of triumph turned to guilt in a flicker.

"You were not reincarnated?" you curiously asked.

"I..." he trailed off, "I haven't asked. I don't know. Really."

You frowned, "Why would you want to be a human, anyway? You're powerful. You don't get tired, you don't get to work and fit a measly salary in a month, you don't have to study," the list on your mind could actually go on as to why he's better off than you.

"It's lonely to be alone," he simply replied.

"And that's my dream, as a grim reaper. We all want to be human after delivering 700 souls. I haven't questioned that career path ever since."

Your right cheek twitched. He's weird, they're weird. It's weird talking about supernaturals as if it's a corporate world. Jungkook sounded like a corporate slave.

At that, you sighed in realization. Even in the Afterlife, or whatever dimension you're in, it's all the same.

He called your name, reaching for your hands across the table. "That's why we should figure out how to fix your fate line. The spirit guide's helping us, but what if we discover something important to your case? The faster we figure things out together, the better."

Your gaze shifted from his hands to his face.

The surrounding brightened. Birds were chirping and you're hearing the still water's splashing against the bank.

You found Jungkook beaming at you. The first genuine smile you saw from him. The corners of his lips lifted into a curve, a bit of his gums showing, his pearly whites sparkling, his eyes twinkling in joy.

He's wearing a cylindrical hat, its wide brim filtering out the rays of the sun. His hair is in a top-knot as you can see through the partly transparent headpiece.

His dimple accentuated as he spoke, "Marry me,"

When you didn't answer, he mistook the confused look on your face. "The King gave us his blessing. The General, I mean, your father knows. He also agreed," he further explained.

"Jungkook," you breathed out.

Then the brightness faded, bringing you back to the café.

Jungkook was in much astonishment as you. You snatched your hands away, leaving his palms open.

It's of no-use but you truly felt your heart beating fast. You stared back to his eyes and again your heart skipped a beat.

"What was that?" he asked. "Did you see what I saw?"

You nodded. "I, we," you tried to compose a coherent sentence, but failed.

He nodded eagerly, "I need to make a call," he stood up, not waiting for a reply.

Jungkook went outside the café as he dialed on the phone. You met his eyes, and he didn't back down, giving you a steady intent look.

You could only see his mouth moving as he spoke.

Then waited, as he stared at you.

You steered away from his gaze as he snapped out of a trance. After a while, he brought his phone down.

You watch him go back to you, averting your eyes.

He wet his lips before saying, "The spirit guide is on an important matter right now. His secretary insisted on meeting him as planned."

"Have you told her what happened?" you asked.

Jungkook nodded, "I did, but he's with..." he trailed off and pointed his finger up.

Well, you can do nothing for now. You need to wait.

You nodded in acknowledgment.

It's nighttime and you were now in his apartment. You were sitting down on the couch as he paced back and forth in his living room, dizzying you in the process.

"Jungkook," you warned for the second time, begging him to stop.

"You asked to marry me, we were husband and wife, in our past life, so grim reapers do have a past," he chanted for the nth time.

"Hah! How dare them lie to us. They just wanted us to do their work without us making a fuss? 700 souls! Do you know how many criminals, psychopaths, nagging wives, and alcoholic husbands I've dealt with? It felt like a thousand! In exchange of what? This apartment and these boring clothes, that's it!"

He ranted.

"I should tell Taehyung and Yoongi about this," he resolved.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "And what? Form a union?" you asked with sarcasm.

He looked at you in horror, "Marriage is only for two people."

"Are you stupid?" he added before fumbling on his phone.

You rolled your eyes. You should've felt offended, but you couldn't even bother to correct him. That's how hopeless you think he is.

And stupid

And narcissistic at that.

"I didn't ask to marry you. You asked to marry me," you nonchalantly repeated for the second time again. However, you didn't even bother if he heard you or not. Jungkook also didn't care. His brows in a furrow as he waited for the other line to be picked up.

It seemed no one answered, but he tried again.

"Taehyung!" he exclaimed.

"Are you done?" he asked, taking a seat beside you.

"Meet me at my place and bring Yoongi hyung. I have big news for you, you wouldn't believe it."

"This is more important! Absolutely! It's a secret and you'll know it first from me."

"Ah, I can't go there. Too many roaming souls. I have..." he paused, looking at you, before continuing, "I have a baggage here."

You gaped at the use of his words.

Jungkook stood up, heading to the window. "No, I can't carry it. Just bring home soju and pears. Ah and if there's some porridge and rice cakes. Okay? Bye!"

He turned around and grinned at you, "I have a treat coming for you!"

Then you thought, he reminded you of Jimin's pet. That white ball of fur who did nothing but eat carrots and cabbage all day long.

"Cats, and dogs, and rabbits are lucky, they have a working pet to buy them food," you mockingly teased Jimin one time who's beaming at his bunny as he watched the cute monster chew.

"What?!" Taehyung yelled.

Jungkook smugly nodded. Taehyung stared at you then back to Jungkook. "So, she's your wife?" he asked to confirm.

You winced and cringed and you craved to fold your fingers. Taehyung is worse than Jungkook.

The bunny nodded once and proclaimed to emphasize a point, "She asked me to marry her."

You bit your lower lip in annoyance and threw the rice cake back to the paper plate. The three grim reapers were startled by your action.

Donning a fake smile, you tried your best to be patient and slowly explained, "Jungkook asked to marry me."

"We were in a lake," you started.

Taehyung looked at you attentively as he's sitting across the coffee table, ready to hear the version of your story. You pulled his hands to yours, "Then he held my hands,"

"He smiled at me, like this," you demonstrated. Trying to copy the face you remember with all the twinkling eyes.

"Then said, 'Marry me,'"

Jungkook, who's sat beside you, abruptly slapped your hands away from his friend. "Ouch!" you fussed, glaring at him.

"Why did you have to hold his hands? Saying that! Doing that!" he protested.

In which you argued, "So you'd remember! Your ass is too up high on your head! Why?!"

A giggle escaped Taehyung's lips as he nuzzled near Yoongi. "Look at them, they're so cute together!" he squeaked as he hugged the man. You winced at his remark.

Yoongi hissed in irritation. He pushed Taehyung's head away while the younger tried to brush his head off against him. Yoongi still won.

Out of the three, Yoongi seemed the most normal to you.

"Maybe you have to relive your life together to remember what happened," he muttered.

"But grim reapers are not supposed to remember their past, Jungkook. You have to be prepared."

Then he went on, "I knew grim reapers who crossed the 7 Trials without knowing their past. I also knew some who learned about who they were, but still chose to vanish. I don't know why."

He stared up, looking both of you in the eyes, as he said his final piece, "Remember who you were, but don't get too attached to your past. There's only one way forward."

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jjk fanfic #romance #jkxreader #jk x reader #jjk

9 notes · View notes

astrovian · 4 years

Text

ranking daniel miller outfits because apparently I have nothing better to do right now

an extremely long one y’all, so it’s under the cut

started at the bottom, now we’re.... still here at the bottom of the list

the running outfit. y’know. that one

look, I know it’s the middle of winter in Berlin and Daniel’s doing his best, but there is something about this that is just not that great. still looks 100x better than my running outfit but I think it’s the beanie that really gives this last place. or is it the double beanie? either way, not an outfit I would wear to try and romance my girl in (even if you are exercising with them). the only real redeeming feature of the outfit is the black turtleneck all zipped up

1.8/10

the sneaky sneaky boy outfit

the perfect outfit for the job because it’s completely unremarkable. the ‘hood over cap’ combo makes me expect to see a 20 year old hacker skulking about under there, but wait - surprise... it’s a handsome middle-aged man?

RA can rock a cap or hood but the double-combo just doesn’t do it for me. I guess I can be happy the third hood isn’t up as well to form a trifecta?

Daniel may need to be sneaky to do his job but I would argue that if I saw a man with a hood over his cap in broad daylight chilling in a cemetery I would have more questions than if I just saw a regularly dressed man chilling in a cemetery in broad daylight

3/10

almost every s1 suit

look, RA looks fantastic in a suit and no one is disputing that. I’m just saying that this is about as bland a suit and tie combo as it gets and from my recall of season one we see this almost every single time he’s in the station.

this one is even a bland grey. grey has it’s place but in the office it can turn into a bit of a snooze. mix up your office-wear & make it fun Daniel. wear a cool-coloured tie. put some funny socks on.

4/10

the casual summer businessman

something bothers me about this. is it the combo of the untucked shirt and the khaki pants? on their own either is fine

or is it just that this is one of the first times we see Daniel and the look has almost no personality to it? who knows

4.1/10 (for the unbuttoned collar and rolled-up sleeves)

the casual summer businessman goes to a bbq

almost the exact same outfit as the casual summer businessman, but the shirt’s a different colour which somehow makes it a lot better

this man wouldn’t look out of place at a bbq, which is a great choice from the styling team considering Daniel actually wears this to the team bbq in the show

4.5/10 solely for just being a bit plain and boring

I’ve finished filing those papers you wanted

no tie and one undone button? Daniel, you tease!

4.6/10

sneaky sneaky boy part 2

this is what I’m talking about. I still find people wearing caps indoors incredibly suspicious for someone trying to blend in (possibly because I was raised to believe that hats were an outdoors only look) but Daniel looks like a grown man and no longer looks like he should be a 20 year old hacker. success!

4.6/10 for an ultra-casual Daniel

I’m just here to file some papers and get paid

see? same suit every time. at least this one’s a nice black which is an upgrade from the grey and really suits RA

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition

a non-matchy-matchy blue tie! a winter coat! a turned up collar! it may not be exciting but at least now we’re cooking

in all fairness though, our coat is quite dull and anonymous and the only real notable thing about it is the choice to keep the collar upturned. nothing to write home about if it wasn’t for the RA attached to it

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition pt. 2

the hooded coat makes for a nice relaxation of the business suit. other than that, not much to say.

4.73/10

once more unto the (lapel) breach

we find ourselves having to ask: is Daniel Miller really Daniel Miller if his coat lapel isn’t popped?

this the FBI man who turns up at your house to either arrest you or escort you to safety. oh, sorry, CIA I guess given the context of the show

looks great because of RA being the one wearing it but a fairly mundane look

4.8/10

up, up, and away

bicycle Daniel was a nice look which I wasn’t expecting out of this show. mainly because I have never ever in my life seen a man in a suit on a bike.

in NZ they all use cars and at the very least bike in casual clothes then get changed at work. is biking in suits a European thing?

there’s absolutely nothing special or spectacular about the clothes, but put Daniel on a bike and it works really well?

maybe it’s the cape effect or leather gloves. or even just the notion of seeing a fully-dressed business man in a suit whiz by you on a bicycle.

whatever it is, it’s appreciated

4.8/10

the party boy

in s1 Daniel has only one look if he’s going out on the town - he ditches the tie & opens two buttons (or three if he’s feeling saucy)

I’ll never complain about this this look because let’s be honest, who would, but we also need to face reality that, like his suits, it’s also a bit repetitive and lacks a bit of something after seeing it for the 5th episode in row

4.9 /10

it might be time for you to go to bed

the party boy has finally lost his ‘I’m too cool for you’ vibe and partied his jacket and several shirt buttons off (quite literally). bonus points for the completely rumpled shirt and hair

the only thing that is eye-catching in this outfit is the skin it reveals

4/10

puzzle time *finger guns* (to anyone who didn’t grow up in New Zealand quoting this ad I apologise)

now this is a Daniel I would sit down and do a puzzle with. which is probably a good thing as he is quite literally solving a puzzle in this scene

5/10 for evoking the correct feeling from the audience but otherwise there is nothing special here

is mission impossible hiring?

the gloves? the backpack? the jacket and zipped sweater? you see this man and know your mainframe is about to be hacked

not the worst. but not the best. love the zipped sweater, could lose the gloves.

5.5/10

let’s get cozy

now this is a dapper fellow. the thin black scarf? brilliant with the signature coat collar

a Daniel who would probably lend you his coat or scarf if you complained about the cold

5.6/10

someone who would feed the ducks at the park

this is how to put in RA in a baseball cap. the subtle tartan of his scarf, which is tied in a knot? the perfect winter spy outfit

this is a Daniel you want to go on walks in a park with.

5.8/10

uncle Daniel goes on a trip to the mall

the more I look at that jacket the more I appreciate it. It’s a stunning blue which makes a nice contrast to the usual dull grey of his sweater and is a colour that looks great on RA. It even has some quilting for added interest

5.96/10

he’s the ‘fun uncle’

the warm sweater and scarf? this is the uncle who takes you out to do fun things while you’re supposed to be grounded and tells you not to tell your mom

nothing amazing in this outfit but also nothing to complain about considering it’s in s1. a funner, casual side to Daniel we don’t often see (am I bitter about never seeing his cousin and her son after s1? a little)

a solid 6/10

hope is fragile and also a black sweater

the fact that we never see this sweater on its own is what lets it down here

putting that to one side, the snuggly sweater? the green bomber jacket? this is a classic s2 Daniel look. but hang on - this is from s1?

Daniel’s letting us know via this s1 outfit that it will all be good in the near future if we can just hang on until he gets his s2 wardrobe

6.1/10 for providing hope for the future

hello? it’s your future ex-boyfriend calling

this man isn’t Daniel Miller - he’s a career model who can GET IT and he knows it

6.6/10

comfy sweater boy

so simple but so, so, so good

this is a Daniel I would want to cuddle up on a couch with. he’s a soft boy who wouldn’t hurt anyone and probably makes a great hot chocolate

6.7/10

comfy sweater boy goes for a walk outside

the colour of his sweater goes nicely with the coat. and once again: is he really Daniel Miller if his collar isn’t popped?

he loses 0.1 of a point for losing a bit of the soft boy look that the sweater just by itself brought to the party

6/10

comfy sweater boy ran out of hot chocolate at his so comes round to your place for takeaway

I just really enjoy the colour of this sweater, okay? the easy, layered sweater look? the takeaway chinese? this is a man after my heart and I’m also pretty sure I’ve worn this exact outfit before

6.1/10

if looks could kill

leather jacket? perfect. but what really brings this together? the black v-neck of course. RA never wears enough v-necks

‘nuf said

6.9/10

the Adam Price moment

this is one of the rarest of cases - a s2 outfit that wasn’t a 100% hit for me. everything about this outfit slaps except for the polo shirt

blue bomber jacket? hell yeah. hidden orange detailing on the inside? that’s what I’m talking about. colour combo of shirt and jacket? well done

polo shirt itself? meh. even if it was just a plain polo that would have been great. for some reason the embroidered logo and collar stripes push me over the edge

I don’t know why but whenever I see a man in a polo shirt like this, I immediately think they are heading to the golf course and are probably not the type of person I would chill with (given that I don’t play golf)

on Adam Price? sure. on Daniel Miller? nah, he knows better

7/10 (mainly for the bomber)

guess who’s back? back again. Adam’s back. tell a friend

I know this is lower ranked than most of the outfits on this entire list but is still found at the upper end of this list. That’s ‘cause it just had to come after the Adam Price moment, okay?

they took everything that was wrong with the Adam Price moment (e.g. the entire polo shirt) and then focused our attention on it

it doesn’t matter how tightly it clings to RA’s body, it’s not overriding my unjustified hatred of polo shirts

3.5/10

I’m here to make important calls while I dine in a fine restaurant

another updated suit look post-s1. I picture this Daniel eating at a nice Italian restaurant for lunch before returning to work for an important business conference

and is that a textured shirt I spy? well done

7.3/10

the shirt is even better without the jacket.

the undone buttons? c’mon

it’s just a nice shirt okay

7.5/10

comfy sweater boy’s older brother

for one thing, those low-slung sweatpants are a blessing and didn’t get enough screen time.

then on top of that the oversized shirt that drapes in just the right and most comfy way? the bare feet? I would call in sick to work if I saw Daniel wearing this outfit in my house

this is a Daniel who has lost comfy sweater boy’s innocence but who I would still wanna cook food and binge netflix with

this is absolute peak comfy Daniel

a well-deserved 7.8/10

the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel

this Daniel is the sum of everything that is wrong with s1 Daniel and everything that is right about s2 & s3 Daniel

the casual suit jacket. the rolled up sleeves. the loose casual shirt. this is a Daniel who works hard but knows how to have a good time and will 100% seduce you in a foreign city

8.5/10

come to the dark side

the same as the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel but with his classic coat and popped collar for some added mystery to the character

like the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel this man will 100% seduce you in a foreign city but also will not hesitate to use his superior strength to pin you against a wall while he makes out with you

8.59/10

I mean...

I’m not sure you can class underwear as an ‘outfit’ as such, but uh.... sorry, what was I saying? I got a little distracted

I refuse to put a numerical rank on this/10

don’t tell your dad about this one

I know we’ve established that underwear is not really an outfit, but these are pants so I’m gonna say this one counts.

the undone belt? the obvious shirtlessness? hanging with this man will definitely end with someone in jail (and it won’t be him). but at least it’ll be a fun ride on the way down to hell

i refuse to assign numerical value to the semi-naked ones because that’s not fair on the other outfits/10

is he here to fix a car, murder someone or sweep me off my feet? who knows and honestly who cares when he looks like that?

the khaki jacket brings in some ruggedness which tip-top Daniel below is missing while still keeping it effortlessly cool.

this is Daniel. fucking. Miller and he doesn’t care what you think

99.99/10

tip-top Daniel

this is Daniel right at his peak.

everything - the casual bomber from the Adam Price moment earlier, the plaid shirt, the undone buttons, the aviators. the HAIR.

Damn, Daniel. Damn.

100/10

#i 100% expect everyone here to disagree with me #richard armitage #daniel miller #berlin station

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spellmanmortuary · 4 years

Note

To be fair Miner is a typical Halloween costume, Nick dresses like a normal person, don’t know how you can find Caliban’s clothes unless it’s the pac sun looking shirt. At least Part 4 can deliver Jock Nick and Cheerleader Sabrina costumes.

ok this ask made me crack open my computer so it should tell u how much i care abt fashion

but basically !! no one is wearing the miner look. the harvey costumes are the plaid shirt, the jeans and the sneakers with the boy next door hair + the brown leather jacket. so basically the look he’s had throughout the show’s run.

the problem is that nick and caliban don’t have noteworthy style. harvey’s isn’t exactly noteworthy or groundbreaking, but, it’s identifiable and he has a signature look going. like if you prop any dude dressed in the plaid + jeans + jacket combo next to a girl dressed as sabrina, you’ll know it’s harvey.

however: the other guys don’t have this kind of signature style.

take nick. in p1 his style ? mess. he had this schoolboy thing going ? like he was wearing the white button up shirt with the sweater and they had him wear that in the promo material for some strange reason. but then in p2 they found his groove and had him in the dark turtlenecks and all black outfits, which were honestly ?? great. but then for p3 the style said 😌 it was nice to meet u 😌 and they had a weird regression where they started putting him in the ill fitting jeans with boots but occasionally in the white shirts again ?? and like in my opinion his style throughout the 3 parts has been kind of inconsistent to the point where the Nick Scratch Signature Look is just. him shirtless in dark pants. which again, might be great for like character development ( which i’m not sure of either lmao ) but it isn’t great when you’re trying to build a costume.

as for caliban ? missed potential tbh. like i get that they had to have him in the whole hell attire but couldn’t they make it a bit more fashionable ?? like. even beelzebub has that great fun flesh crown and he has those fur coats that he wears with skull belts and stuff. i think that what went wrong with calibans lack of ~iconic style-ness~ is that they put him in this ugly ass vest without a shirt for most of p3. and his style was not cohesive at ALL. like. we had the vest thing and then we got this amazing romantic novel prince moment but then we got this 70′s looking ensemble that looks like it could have been worn by logan lerman in hunters. so tell me, caos wardrobe department, what is caliban’s style ?

in my opinion, it was wasted potential lol. like look at the fashion warlocks wear in ahs: apocalypse !!! i think that the show and even nick’s character could have been a lot more stylish if they had given him the same style he had in the first two parts for the third one, but in colors that went from dark to clear. like i know the show loves the 60s so why did we never get a short sleeved turtleneck moment ? we know gavin would’ve looked really good in one of those. we could have gotten a preppy striped cardigan with a black tshirt underneath. we could have gotten long black coats and blazers in interesting cuts. we could have gotten a tie moment. but no.... ill fitting jeans we know he’s short you don’t have to spell it out for us with those jeans that looked like he took them from harvey but had to fold the legs so they would fit him.

i love ambrose’s style but like it could have been a lot more fun and iconic. if they loved the psychdellic 70s menswear for him they could have leaned into it more and given him corduroy vests with funky print shirts/bellbottoms/funky colored blazers and big collars.

for caliban they could have given him a much more regal signature look, which would have made sense because he wanted the crown so bad it was natural that he would want to look the part. they could have given him a campy ass wardrobe with like. over the top embroidered shirts/some bejeweling/some faux fur and like. an actual hair look bc that just looks like sam combed his hair and showed up to set. some guyliner even.

because look, it doesn’t matter if they dress like regular people because if the character has great style that looks recognizable, people will want to dress up as them, like the euphoria characters, or buffy the vampire slayer, or even sabrina herself. sabrina has a ton of signature, identifiable looks and moments despite the wardrobe departments’ best efforts so people want to dress up as her. she looks cute, she looks fun, it works if you want to make it sexy or spooky or conservative or a combination of the three. you can pick the plaid skirt + turtleneck, the red peacoat, the cheer uniform or if you want to go all out, you can do the whole I AM THE DARK LORD’S SWORD thing. you can wear the red off the shoulder top from the promos or the black queen of hell dress. same goes for the weird sister’s dresses. they’re cute, relatively easy to copy, and they can be as fun and flirty as u wanna make them.

to be honest, to me the problem is that the style in caos is.... a bit messy. it’s confusing because characters look like they all came from different eras and their styles ( except ambrose, who stays pretty on brand with the 70s ) blend together in the most boring, print crazy, muted tones ( which. why??? they’re teenagers why are they always wearing autumnal colors ), sometimes they put the actors in things that are unflattering to their body types like sabrina’s valentine’s day ruched red dress atrocity that shit belongs to in a middle school spring fling dance or nick’s weird carnival canadian tux, and sometimes they mix eras? like with sabrina’s style, which inexplicably jumps from 60s to 70s but nothing she wears looks like what her aunts would have worn at her age so where and how did she even get those ?? were those like... her mom’s ?? if they were, why has the connection never been made ? it could have been great for emotional depth.

but anyway, the characters that we see on halloween or at comic cons are usually the weird sisters ( specifically prudence ), hilda, zelda, lilith, harvey, sabrina, and occasionally ambrose. this is most likely due to the fact that they have the more signature, noteworthy, recognizable clothes. the weird sisters have that one signature look and they ROCK it, hilda and zelda both dress like different kinds of stereotypical witches with identifiable hairstyles and are a fun friends/sisters costume, and lilith had that MOMENT with the demon face. harvey’s style is cute and consistent and pretty much timeless, maybe sometimes 90s inspired-ish. sabrina has an identifiable look with the hairstyle even if that wig is awful.

so yeah, that was my long way of saying that the reason why people aren’t dressing up as nick or caliban even if theyre in a couples costume with a sabrina is because those two have unidentifiable, non cohesive style.

caos could have been a fashion show.... could’ve brought 60′s/70′s inspo in fashion back... but for some reason it didnt rlly do that lol

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theiceandbones · 5 years

Text

Tom Hartnell’s looks rated: a thread

i sure hope you’re ready for this

10/10. Let’s start with some basic tartnell. He’s on the rigging, it’s icy as hell, he’s got Irving’s glass and he’s just told Tozer to put a fumb in it. What does he see? Not the haters, that’s for sure.

3584247657/10. BE STILL MY BEATING HEART(nell). Is that a SMILE??? Tossing in a few extra points for Ikea Monkey looks.

9/10. The cheeks, the hair, the popped collar, the beard. It’s all there. Docking a point bc Erebus sick bay :(

10/10. CHEEKS. He’s brought Silna some supper. He understands. He’s a good lad. We love one man.

20/10. Here we’ve got Tart doing what he does best: handling the dead! And being a good friend! What a helpful guy. Do we deserve him? Probably not! Constantly rocking those fingerless gloves. An absolute staple of every Arctic explorer’s wardrobe!

8/10. This is the only man north of the Arctic Circle to successfully pull off the welsh wig/table hat combo. And that snood? That’s a cozy Tart!! Points taken away for kidnapping Silna >:(

1000/10. The waistcoat. Need I say more.

100000000067546/10. CIVILIAN CLOTHES. Another expert execution of the waistcoat, the collar, the stock, and the trousers? PERFECT. PERFECTION. ABSOLUTELY BREATHTAKING.

10/10. Again with the Welsh wig, is there anything this man can’t do? “Did you always want to be a caulker?” Absoluely SICK burn. His wig may be on, but Corn’s is fucking snatched.

9/10. CARNIVALE. He’s a lion!!! He’s a fucking lion!!! STUNNING symbolism in that one. One point docked for Bad Things Happening but his kitty costume is 10/10 in my heart.

10000/10. Oh man. Oh boy. Here we go. He’s got the cozy sweater and everything AND he’s about to sympathetically headbonk Goodsir. We do not deserve Thomas Hartnell.

875656748684/10. I don’t think I can stress enough that there is nothing NOT good about this look. This is what peak performance looks like, sweaty. That hair, that beard, the rosy cheeks, the cozy red snood, the unbuttoned coat and- is that another waistcoat? This look? It is almost TOO good. This episode is loaded with looks.

BONUS:

ANOTHER SMILE! 10000000/10

51/10. Yet another Soft Tom. He’s so soft. So good. He cares. He gets it. He’s on your side. Maybe not if you’re a mutineer, but he’s got your back. And a cute necktie. Bonus points for swoopy hair.

YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS

10000000/10. IT’S TOM VS. TUUNBAQ TIME BABEY!!!! Look at this absolute LAD. If anyone’s got this? IT’S HIM. SO BRAVE. SO COURAGEOUS. A TRUE HERO. Tom Hartnell is my favourite superhero.

(this was largely inspired by @radiojamming and @bomburjo with their impeccable Irving and Goodsir threads, respectively)

#thomas hartnell #tom hartnell #the terror amc #I LOVE ONE MAN #I REALLY DO

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annaleearcs · 4 years

Text

zeki/hayden hogwarts au

Sure, wizarding clothes were cool, but Zeki just wasn’t the robes and pointed hats kind of guy. Maybe he favored more practical clothes because he was Muggle-born, or maybe it was just how he was. Whatever the case, as soon as classes were over and Zeki was permitted to be out of uniform, he immediately pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans. He got a few funny looks from the pure-blood students, that was for sure, but Zeki had been getting funny looks all his life, and they didn’t bother him at all.

One of the students who gave him funny looks was one of his roommates and Quidditch teammates, Hayden Piers, a pure-blood who seemed quiet but had nevertheless verbally eviscerated Zeki for making an off-color joke the first time they’d met.

Hayden had also been his friend with benefits for most of fourth year, but he had broken it off before the summer holidays. Honestly, that was probably the reason for the funny looks, not the jeans and sweater combo. Hayden had been giving him them for years.

Halloween had just passed, and Zeki could finally emerge from the dorm and resume the flow of normal life. It was the weekend, which meant a trip to Hogsmeade for butterbeer and candy and no homework whatsoever. Unfortunately for him, his ex, Audrey Marquette, was in The Three Broomsticks as Zeki pushed open the door, and he debated turning around and walking right back out. He absolutely did not need to interact with Audrey and her posse of friends, not at that time of his life. Debating going back to Hogwarts and curling up in front of the fire, he walked through the chilly streets, pulling his coat tighter around him. Somehow, his feet led him to the recently-fortified fence around the Shrieking Shack.

And then there was Hayden, Slytherin beanie pulled low over his ears but a shock of ginger hair still visible. He had his hands crammed into his pockets, and he was staring at the Shack. Not moving, just staring. Zeki was about to turn around and go back to the castle--no need to deal with another one of his exes, but Hayden looked over his head and said, “Hey.”

“Hey, Hay,” Zeki said, feeling like an absolute idiot. “I’ll go.”

“Don’t.” It was so quiet that he barely heard it. “Stay.”

He often thought about how he missed Hayden. They had been best friends, once, best friends who kissed in shadowy corners of the castle, but then they had become… roommates. Teammates. People who avoided each other so that it wouldn’t be more awkward than it already was.

Zeki moved up, standing beside Hayden, staring out over the dead grass, eyes on the leafless trees that swayed in the chilly wind. He rubbed his hands before digging his wand out of his pocket and cast a charm to create hot air, warming his hands under the magic. “Do you want…?”

“Sure,” Hayden said, and extended his hands. Zeki pointed his wand at them, noting the bitten nails. Hayden always bit his nails.

They lapsed back into silence again, watching the still world stretching out before them. For once in his life, Zeki didn’t feel compelled to say anything; he was perfectly content to simply be in the company of the boy who had once been his best friend.

“You look good in those jeans,” said Hayden, with no prompting. “You always look good in Muggle clothes.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Zeki would have said, Oh, really? and smirked, or even slapped his own rear. But he ducked his head, made shy by the confession. “You always look good,” he said, and brought his hands to his mouth to breathe warm air over them, noting that Hayden was watching him intently as he moved.

#ship: zeki / hayden #oc: zeki #hannah screams #my writing

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renaroo · 5 years

Text

The Jean Grey School for Wayward Wolverines

Disclaimer: Wolverine and associated characters are the creative property of Marvel Comics Warnings: Canon-typical violence & language Rating: T Synopsis: Gabby is left at the Jean Grey school while Laura works with the Avengers on a mission she can’t be a part of, but of course Gabby is never one to let things end that simply.

A/N: I have no idea what brought this on other than a year of missing my girls and wanting the legacy of Wolverine to mean... well.... a legacy again but hey. At least we’ve got 50 X-books again and so far none of them have met my Kinney quota of 2

It was too warm for January and the limbs of the trees all seemed to bristle and grow brittle in response to the simple, inalienable fact. And because it was too warm for January, the argument seemed to be that it was too warm for knit sweaters and earmuffs.

This was obviously just an excuse and nowhere near reality because Laura accepted no such excuses from Gabby. Not that Gabby had a problem with wearing matching earmuffs with her sweater and winter coat combo, or with an excuse for wearing the extra fun leggings and boots that really tied her skirt and mittens all together.

But, supposedly, Jonathan was not going to be comfortable in a sweater.

“He’s not a Laura, Laura, he’s a Gabby!” Gabby argued vehemently. She then raised the Jonathan sized winter cap she had finished as a point. “And he’s going to look so cute!”

“He’s not a Laura or a Gabby because he’s a Jonathan. And Jonathans are wolverines with a very heavy winter coat right now,” Laura argued, crossing her arms with Jonathan’s sweater in hand. “If you make him too hot, he’ll get cranky on his walk and try to pull it off again. And if he does, he’ll get out of his harness. Again. Then we have a problem with the park rangers.” She paused ominously before ending with another, “Again.”

Gabby stubbornly sat on the floor, Jonathan seated in her lap and raised up her arms almost reflexively. “Is that what we’ve come to in the Kinney household now? Risking our precious Jonathan catching a cold out of fear of the authorities! What a joke. I’m gonna call Wade.”

“You can’t call Wade,” Laura said, rolling her eyes. “It would be a losing point for you anyway.”

“You’re no fun,” Gabby groaned, falling back onto the apartment floor dramatically. She showed a lot of restraint by not moving as Jonathan — adorably — crawled onto her stomach and worriedly pawed at her chest. “We should run free out into the wild, Jonathan. Leave behind this stuffy city life.”

“Wolverines don’t wear clothes in the wild,” Laura argued, already putting away Jonathan’s cute sweater in the pet drawer.

Gabby wrinkled her nose at Laura. “Maybe you should live in the wild then,” she shot back.

“Did,” Laura answered without even looking her way. Because of course she had. “Naked. In the snow. Was kind of boring.”

“What, did you just run around naked for a while then?” Gabby asked, squinting. “Why?”

“It’s a… Wolverine thing,” Laura failed at explaining, straightening up and looking down at Gabby with mild amusement.

“That’s why I’m a Honey Badger,” Gabby said, a fond smile growing on her lips.

“Sure is,” Laura agreed. “You ready for our walk yet?”

“Yup!” Gabby sheered, sitting bolt straight so fast that Jonathan rolled down to her lap in surprise. “Even if Jonathan has to be naked.”

“He does,” Laura says.

In a few short, swift moves, Gabby is on her feet and clicking on Jonathan’s harness. Their daily routine is almost ready to proceed when there is a knock on the door.

Out of reflex, Laura and Gabby both unleash their claws in an echo of SNIKTS — because they should have been able to smell someone coming toward their apartment. Neither of them had.

When the knocks continue, Laura suspiciously nears the door and glances through the peephole.

Gabby was reflexively tense, watching her sister, but she relaxed when she saw Laura recall her claws and straighten up in preparation for opening the door.

“Who is it?” Gabby asked out of curiosity, putting away her claw as well.

“Vision,” Laura answered before opening the door.

“Le gasp!” Gabby called out, putting her hands on her cheeks. “Like Vision from the Avengers? So cool! Unless we did something. Did we do something?”

The door opened and Laura had been telling the truth — there he was, the one and only Vision of the Avengers. Which, of course, no wonder they hadn’t smelled him. He was a robot. A robot who could walk through walls.

Which, Gabby supposed, made it a sign of manners and restraint that he knocked on the door. So that was nice.

“As far as the Avengers is aware, there is no reason to come after you, Gabrielle Kinney,” Vision answered her with an ominous look.

“Okay, cool,” Gabby grinned. “Hi, by the way. I have your daughter’s poster! Hope that’s not weird. I bet it is. I’ll shut up now. I’m being a gay disaster.”

Vision raised one of the ridges over his eyes before glancing toward Laura. “Wolverine, the Avengers requires you.”

“Where to and how long?” Laura asked, neglecting all the questions that Gabby would be asking.

But, then, that was a difference between a Gabby and a Laura.

“Am I interrupting anything important?” Vision asked.

“Uh, yeah, evening walk, duh,” Gabby countered, waving to the obvious setup.

“I apologize for interrupting family activities. I, too, have come to understand their importance above all else,” Vision assured them. “However, this mission for Wolverine—“

“And Honey Badger,” Gabby corrected.

“No, not this time,” Laura turned and began walking toward Gabby.

“What? How do you know? What…” Gabby stopped short and watched Laura with vague scrutiny as her sister got down on one knee in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. Gabby gasped. “You… knew you were going on a super cool, super-secret Avengers mission! And you didn’t tell your own team?”

“I promised to be quiet about it,” she told Gabby without breaking her stare. “I am sorry. It’s not one we do together.”

“But how do you know that you won’t get into the thick of it and need me for a surprise K-O or to provide you with the perfect ending pun?” Gabby fretted.

“Not that kind of mission,” Laura assured her again, squeezing Gabby’s shoulder. She then glanced slightly back toward the Vision. “How long?”

“You will need some arrangements,” Vision answered magnanimously.

“Already made,” Laura said, getting to her feet. “Gabby, grab your go bags.”

Perking up, Gabby ran immediately to her room, abandoning a confused Jonathan, and immediately began grabbing her overnight bags — pre-packed — and then grabbed a few Avengers-themed items to possibly be signed. Then she ran back to the room. “Ready!” she called out excitedly.

“Good,” Laura said, already in uniform like a champ. She looked to the Vision. “The Jean Grey School is on the way.”

Gabby blinked a few times and then uttered, “Wait. What.”

They were quiet on the drive. Which, of course, was more unusual for one of them than for the other.

Gabby sat in the passenger seat, feet on the seat as her knees tucked in under her chin. The familiar sights of New York were passing by the window and Jonathan was snugly secured in the backseat along with the eponymous Kinney Family statue and Gabby’s go bags.

Laura was driving at her usual efficient speed, but her attention was not fully on the road. Gabby could tell by the way Laura looked her way every few moments.

“You’re upset,” Laura surmised, biting on her lip.

“Uh, duh, comes to mind,” Gabby countered with a curl to her nose. “You’re keeping stuff from me! I had no idea anything was going on with the Avengers!”

“I didn’t tell you, that’s why you didn’t know,” Laura stated, like the fact alone was somehow an answer.

“But that’s the problem! You should have told me something!” Gabby growled angrily. “We’re partners!”

“We are,” Laura agreed before pointing Gabby’s way. “But this is not something for our team. It is my other team and me.”

It felt like Gabby’s chest was being ripped in half with adamantium. “When the Avengers asked to have Wolverine on the team, you said we were honored. That’s what you said to them, Laura! You said that we were on the team. We’re supposed to be a two-package deal.”

“I said that. I said that you were with me,” Laura agreed, but her tone was unrelenting. “But that is my decision. I am responsible for you. I know when to involve you and when to tell you where else to go.”

“It’s because of the Guardians of the Galaxy and the Brood thing, isn’t it?” Gabby demanded. “You don’t trust me anymore, but you should. Because I beat the Brood when no one else ever has! Why does me getting in trouble always count, but me winning never does? How is that fair?”

Laura glared at Gabby over her sunglasses, but Gabby refused to fall back in line. Not this time.

Shaking her head, Laura looked back to the road. “It isn’t about the Brood and it isn’t about mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Then tell me about the Avengers thing,” Gabby begged, desperate. “There has to be a reason you’re doing this!”

“That reason is why you can’t know about it, too,” Laura snapped. “It isn’t simple, Gabby. It’s complicated and it’s… it’s dangerous for you to know.”

“How could it be dangerous for me to know something?” Gabby began to argue. She had a whole speech lined up, about ageism and teamwork and a dozen other angles pointing out how unjust the situation was.

But Laura wasn’t letting her get to any of them.

“Gabby,” Laura said, probably exasperated if the jut of her jaw was something to go by, “When I was your age, I didn’t have anyone looking out for me. I didn’t have anyone… advocating for me. And even when I got older, people had purposes for me more than they had an interest in doing what was best for my future. Even the people who cared about me. I saw and did things I wasn’t ready for. I knew and was expected to know things that still linger with me. Even today.” Her gaze shifted to Gabby heavily. “I didn’t know how to feel human for a long time. I didn’t know how to act my age for a long time. I didn’t know how to feel like my tomorrow counted for a long time. And because I’m older now, I realize that all those things are connected. That things people let or make you do now can stay with you and erase your personhood even for today.”

Quiet and sheepish, Gabby lowered her feet to the car floor mat. “Is the Avengers thing one of those things?”

“Yes,” Laura answered lowly.

“Then why?” Gabby preened. “Why do it at all?”

“Someone has to, so everyone else doesn’t,” Laura said strongly. “I have to so you don’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Gabby argued. “If you did these things when you were my age, I can do them now!”

“Then I will fail you,” Laura hissed, almost like the thought had wounded her. “Then everything will have been for nothing.”

Gabby lowered her face, frustrated. “It’s not bad for me to be like you, Laura. The only thing I’ve ever wanted to be is to be like you.”

“I know,” Laura said solemnly. “The only thing I have ever wanted, period, is for you to be better.”

The car ride was deafening from that point on.

The moment they pulled into the gated driveway of the Jean Grey School, Gabby could feel the uncomfortable prickliness of being watched.

She was slow to fully disengage from the car and begin the far worse and more painful act of taking her things out of the car and into the building. This must have been obvious since Laura immediately got out, opened the back door, and slung all of Gabby’s things out of the seat and onto her shoulders.

“I can carry my stuff,” Gabby whined, finally unhooking her seatbelt. “I was gonna get it all just…”

“It’s fine,” Laura contested, holding up a hand to stop Gabby from jumping across the seats in a vain attempt to take one of the bags. “Just get Jonathan.”

Jonathan did not need a second push. He leaped from the car and found the first good grassy spot on his radar to hike a leg.

Unfortunately, the grass did not seem to care for that action.

With a hideous roar, the earth and grass and roots lifted and cracked apart from each other, forming a fanged mouth to snap at Jonathan.

Like a good Wolverine, Jonathan was fast to evade and came barreling back toward the car.

“HEY!” Laura and Gabby snarled together, echoing SNKTS reigning out in response.

“Ladies! Krakoa!” a thundering voice called from above.

Gabby looked up and was instantly mesmerized by the sheer power radiating from Storm as her eyes glowed and sparked with lightning and the winds of all four seasons bellowed around her. She was probably the most majestic thing that Gabby had seen in her young life. It was terrifying and amazing all at once.

“Nice,” Gabby got out of her system.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding,” Storm said as her feet graced the pavement beside the Kinney sisters. “After showing Gabrielle around, I will show you where your pet can happily excuse himself.”

“He’s a wolverine, he can kinda decide that himself,” Gabby was quick to retort as her claws slipped back into place.

“While I am sure that is true in most situations, I am afraid we have a special relationship with the grounds,” Storm explained patiently. Her smile was fabulous, but the sweetness was turning Gabby’s stomach bitter.

It probably would have been easier to dunk on literally any other X-Men who would come to greet her.

“I already know around,” Gabby argued. “If I’m going to be entombed here, can’t we just go ahead and do it without a tour?”

“You don’t know where to let Jonathan out to,” Laura huffed. She sounded more irritated than she usually did with Gabby. Maybe it was the car ride. Maybe it was the attitude Gabby was giving off.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” Gabby couldn’t help but mutter to herself.

By the time Gabby glanced up, she could only see Laura’s discontent. It was a look that Laura wore masterfully. Oh, boy were they going to have a talk by the end of whatever the Avengers thing was.

“I understand that you are upset, Gabrielle,” Storm said gently, squaring herself with Gabby to address her directly. “And no doubt uncomfortable considering you have not lived here with us before. But we are family, and this was once your sister’s permanent home. And it always may be again. Just as it will always be a home for you.”

“Like when my sister leaves me to go play with the Avengers on a super cool, super-secret mission?” Gabby asked critically.

Storm’s patient smile continued its presence. “I am afraid that sounds like a rather… uncharitable take on your sister’s situation,” Storm chided. “We can discuss it later. For now, I would much rather you get to know the other students who you will be rooming with while you are here.”

Gabby searched her mind for a proper response, but she was distracted as she noticed Laura haughtily carting off Gabby’s things in one of the directions of a dormitory. “Laura!” Gabby whined, clamoring to catch up with her sister.

“I don’t know why you’re making this so difficult, Gabby,” Laura grunted as she pushed open a dorm door with the heel of her foot. “No one planned for things to happen this way. Sometimes they just do.”

“Maybe I come from a family that seems really good at breaking the rules when it seems to suit literally everybody else but themselves,” she grumbled in return.

Laura glanced over her shoulder, utterly ignoring the colorfully diverse set of young mutants peering their melodrama around the dorm halls. “What would you do on this dangerous mission you know nothing about, Gabby?”

“Anything to watch my sister’s back,” Gabby answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Because no one else has ever done it for her before. And she doesn’t know how important it is. Because she’s stubborn. Like a goat. A goat-verine. A woof-oat.”

Without losing her direct eye contact with Gabby, Laura turned knowingly in the hall and nudged open a specific door to a suite.

“How do you know where they’re jailing me?” Gabby demanded. “Are you just that awesome, Laura?”

“I asked,” Laura said, setting Gabby’s things down. “It was mine.”

Curious, Gabby entered the room, glancing around suspiciously. There was a large bay window, some plain but beautiful oak furniture including a dresser and vanity. Two closets, a small kitchenette that matched with a Mr. Coffee that was identical to the one in their apartment. A bathroom was also attached to the suite right next to the mini couch and television. Two desks to work at. It was a fairly useful space, all things considering.

“I don’t believe it,” Gabby announced. “Where’s a punching bag? I refuse to believe you lived here without a workout station. You’re cheapening out on me—“

Gabby didn’t have time to get much further because Laura was already pulling her into a full embrace. Laura’s muscular arms were holding tight to the back of Gabby’s head and in the small of her back, just holding her against Laura’s body with a strength that didn’t want to let go.

Silently, Gabby reached up and hugged her sister back the best she could with the awkward angle.

They stood that way for a while, hugging and quiet.

It was a Wolverine kind of thing.

“I’ll come back the second the mission is done,” Laura finally promised. “We’ll get takeout. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I don’t know if that’ll fully cure my wounded pride,” Gabby said sardonically.

“You’ll get over it,” Laura promised. “You’re a Wolverine.”

“I’m a Honey Badger,” Gabby smirked, closing her eyes as she buried herself in her sister’s warm embrace one last time. “But yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They stayed that way for a while. It didn’t seem like either of them were actually ready for the actual separating part of their situation.

But the time did come.

And Gabby watched her sister -- her only family -- leave the grounds of the Jean Grey School without her.

Gabby would have had an easier time adjusting to living in a nunnery.

Two days after being left at the Jean Grey School, Gabby was faced with her very first Monday in the facility. She had had a terrible time attempting to sleep the night before — Jonathan needed bathroom breaks, and the AC didn’t run loudly like it did in the apartment, and there was the sound of people talking down the hall about homework and power development, and Gabby dreamed of Avengers turning to her with heavy expressions and neatly putting a hand on her shoulder to say how sorry they were —

By the time the alarm clock on her bedside read 9:00 AM, Gabby could finally close her eyes and bury herself beneath layers of blankets.

That was until a stern knocking came from her door.

For a few knocks, Gabby ignored it. Then, when the winds came through her open window and began to mess with her lock, she figured the time for simple ignorance had passed.

“Hold on! I can open my own door!” she yelled over the winds.

Sitting up in her bed, Gabby sighed, shook her lion’s mane of hair as loose as she could, then kicked her legs out from the duvet. Her body ached slightly before she went through the exaggerated routine of popping each bone in her back.

The wind had stopped attempting to pick her lock, but they still pelted her as she walked by the window. Pushing her toward the door.

At last, she kicked on her fuzzy matching slippers and shuffled her way to the door. Sniffing, she picked up the scent of her visitor rather quickly. Not that she needed the confirmation to know it was Headmaster Munroe seeking her out.

Gabby finally opened the door, blinking away the brightness of the hallway lights as he did so.

Before her stood Storm. She wasn’t in her uniform, but her sense of fashion could still kill. High platform heels, dress pants, and simple colorful blouse, with an accent necklace that Gabby couldn’t have imagined pulling off in her wildest dreams. She was magnificent looking.

And she was staring down rather imposingly to Gabby in her matching Champions pajamas ensemble.

“Hello,” Gabby greeted groggily.

“Gabrielle,” Storm said curtly. “It seems you are not planning on attending the classes on your schedule.”

“Not really,” Gabby admitted readily.

A hum came from Storm as she glanced at the room behind Gabby.

When Storm’s gaze shifted back to Gabby, it was strong enough to make the young Honey Badger squirm in her fluffy slippers. “I believe it would be important for you to get dressed and meet me in my office as soon as possible.”

“I could show up like this,” Gabby answered without hesitation.

“If that is how you think you should,” Storm said archly, her brows raising slightly at the prospect.

Giving it even a moment’s more thought had Gabby hesitating. It’s time to get a bit serious, Bub, she told herself with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, Ms. Munroe, I’ll be right there,” she promised, heading back into the depths of her room.

It was strange being in trouble with someone other than Laura. With someone with authority other than Laura.

Strangely, as she rummaged through her unpacked bags for a new shirt and jeans to wear, Gabby couldn’t help her own growing grin.

She kind of liked the trouble thing. Maybe it suited her.

One problem that was undeniable about Gabby’s routine was that it did not spare a lot of time for vamping. Throwing on a novelty tee or sweatshirt, an endless supply of leggings, and some dorky shoes she was ready to go. The less time the better. Normally.

Avoiding a serious discussion with the headmaster of a school for superpowered teens did not, exactly, fit into the routine of normally, unfortunately.

Instead, Gabby found herself on the other side of Storm’s desk far too quickly for her liking.

Storm sat on the other side of the desk, hands folded together just beneath her chin, and leaned toward Gabby with the full attention of her very captivating eyes. “You seem to be resisting forming a routine with us,” Storm noted.

“I’m not really one for routines, it’s not anything personal,” Gabby answered quickly.

A small smile crept its way onto Storm’s face. “You seem to have a routine with your pet Jonathan that is well attended to,” she argued lightly.

Gabby took the point into consideration and looked at Storm seriously instead. “I feel like there’s a difference between pet routines and putting people with thoughts and dreams and futures on a schedule,” she argues. “I mean, maybe that’s what schools gotta do with regular teenagers, but I’m not really a regular teenager! It’s not gonna work with me!”

Before Gabby had even gotten through her words, Storm’s carefully composed figure lowered her hands to the desk and threw her head back to laugh, truly and deeply.

“What? What’d I do?” Gabby demanded, her heart racing.

“My apologies,” Storm chuckled. “That is, by far, the most normal teenager argument you’ve given so far. I believe it has been used by your fellow students in this office at least three dozen times. Only since I became the headmaster.”

Defensively, Gabby’s nose curled and she leaned into the back of her chair. “No, that can’t be right… Look, it doesn’t matter if that’s what the other kids have said before, for me it’s true! I mean… I’m a Wolverine! In the making. I’m a Honey Badger now, but, like, just look at this family history! You wouldn’t make Logan go through these kinds of things.”

“Logan was not involved with the school until well after he had already reached adulthood,” Storm informed her. “However, even then, had I been headmaster, I probably would have demanded some classes in the early days.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Like?”

“Manners,” Storm answered flatly.

Despite herself, Gabby snorted and felt her traitorous mouth perk up in the corners. “Yeah. Probably.” She glanced slightly off, a thought passing her by. “I mean, just from what Laura’s told me and all.” She looked to Storm finally, looking for any hint of judgment in her eyes. For the moment, there didn’t seem to be any. “I never really met him, y’know.”

In Storm’s eyes was a sadness that Gabby had not fully seen before. The older woman leaned back, taking in a deep breath. “Yes. I know.”

“But I know all about Laura,” Gabby continued, feeling her shoulders fall back and her chest puffs up with pride. “I know everything about Laura. Everything she’ll let me. AND! Some things I know that she wouldn’t let me. That’s just how well I know Laura.”

For a moment, Storm allowed them to sit in the gravity of Gabby’s comments.

Then, ever so slowly, she raised from her seat and walked gracefully around her desk. “Did Laura ever tell you that I was her teacher while she was here?” she asked as she came to sit at the chair beside Gabby.

Gabby raised an eyebrow at her. “No, not really,” she said before shaking her head. “No, wait, that’s not true! Laura’s talked about taking classes here, and I know you’re the headmaster now and used to teach. So, I knew that. I just… didn’t think about it that much. But I totally knew that!”

“But it wasn’t said directly,” Storm pressed.

“Some things don’t have to be,” Gabby countered.

“Maybe they still should be, though,” Storm continued. “Gabrielle, I want you to be happy while you are here, and I also want you to receive something from this stay that you simply could not otherwise. I want you to grow, develop, become.”

Slowly, almost as if the question was being dragged out of her throat, Gabby leaned in closer to Storm and asked, “Become what?”

“Become who you are meant to be,” Storm assured her.

“Well, I’m meant to be a Wolverine, obviously,” Gabby said, pushing her back into her chair. “And all the Wolverines before me didn’t stay behind at school and do all this growing and developing and becoming while other people were putting their butts on the line.” Gabby turned her gaze sharply on Storm. “Not even Laura when she was a student. When she was your student. She still had to do the Wolverine stuff that she doesn’t want me around now. So. I should be doing that, and you let Laura do that once already, and if you really want me to become a Wolverine-like I’m supposed to be, then you should let me do it, too.”

Finished with her long-winded speech, Gabby found herself looking in the eyes of a far less receptive Storm than what she started with.

Storm had uncrossed her legs and had both feet planted firmly on the floor. Her hands were gripping the edges of her armrests with the nails digging in. But the look on Storm’s face was one that surprised Gabby most of all.

It looked as if the older woman was in grief rather than inconsolable anger like Gabby had been anticipating.

Silence draped over the room as they sat and stared at each other.

And Gabby never did do well with silence.

“Uh, Ms. Munroe?” she asked cautiously. “I’m kinda new at this defiance thing so maybe I’m just not tough enough yet to the silent treatment… but you kind of seem upset? And I deal with that a lot less well than I deal with the whole anger thing. So it’d be great if you could give me a clue as to which way I should be leaning here.”

“Child,” Storm sighed, at last, putting one hand to her face. She was hiding behind her fingers, almost in shame.

It was Gabby’s turn to be taken aback.

“I cannot… begin to explain to you the regret I have in my bones…” she drew in a deep breath. “How much I ache at night, recalling how much I failed as an adult, a teacher, a guardian — how I was one of the many in this institution who failed to protect your sister in all the ways that she deserved to be from the moment she was in our care, to every second that followed.”

Gabby looked at Storm, confused and conflicted. “Laura doesn’t think you failed her,” Gabby argued. “She says that sometimes Wolverines have gotta do the jobs that no one else can, so no one else has to. And—“

“Let me assure you, Gabrielle,” Storm said solemnly, “any child which feels that burden while remaining in our care… any child which feels obligated to make such choices when I am around to provide them support and protection… Those are my failures. I, and every other caretaker here, have failed your sister. We cannot go back and correct it, but we can do our best for Laura now.”

The conversation was heavy. It was heavier than anything Gabby had felt before and she began to squirm in its discomfort.

“How can you make it up to Laura?” Gabby asked genuinely. “I mean she’s awesome and perfect and I don’t know why you’d want her to be any different… but even if you did want her to, I don’t know, maybe talk to her sister more, how could you do that now?”

Slowly sliding her hand from her defeated face down to her lab, Storm’s expression seemed to return to the picture of serene. Her gaze shifted back to Gabby and a soft smile built on her lips. “Through you, Gabrielle.”

Lost again, Gabby tilted her head. “Huh?”

“We cannot fix the mistakes of our past, but we can do better for today and tomorrow,” Storm continued. “Laura wants the most exceptional, safe, and loved life for you that she never had for herself. And she wants it because she loves you with the sense of protection others should have always looked out for her with. You are not like the other students, you still have seen and done things some students your age here could not imagine. And you will likely see more than them, too. But your safety and your choices will never be taken from you the way they have been for Logan and Laura, and so many others your family call Wolverines.”

Gabby frowned and squirmed. “Sounds like responsibility.”

“It should sound more like… opportunity,” Storm assured her. “You will not be at this school indefinitely, not in the way many other young mutants may need to be. After a time, should you and your sister so choose, you will return with her to your apartment and continue your lives.”

“Thank applesauce,” Gabby groaned, melting into her seat. Catching herself, she blinked and straightened up. “Uh, no offense, of course.”

Storm was smiling. “While you are here, Gabrielle, try to take the opportunity to choose opportunities others haven’t had.”

“Okay,” Gabby sighed in agreement. “I will.”

It was the end of her Thursday classes, two weeks after arriving at the Jean Grey School, that Gabby couldn’t even open her eyelids. She drags her feet against the carpeted floors of the dormitory and easily opened her room door with a moan.

“Jonathan, let’s go outside, boy—“ she began to say before sniffing.

In an instant, Gabby’s nostrils filled with an all-too-familiar scent.

Her eyes snapped open and Gabby gasped as she looked across her room to the edge of her bed.

Laura sat, Jonathan gingerly tucked into her arms, petting the wolverine’s tummy fur in that way only Laura and Gabby could. She then looked up and smirked at Gabby.

“Welcome back, Honey Badger,” Laura said, putting Jonathan to the side. She rose to her feet to stand.

Gabby didn’t give her the chance.

The younger sister launched herself across the room and tackled Laura’s waist in a vice-like hug. “Laura! Oh my gosh! You’re back! It’s been so long!”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that,” Laura said, quick to return the hug. “Means I’ve got lots to tell you over takeout, though.”

With a large grin, Gabby looked up at her sister. “Really!? Was it awesome? Was it scary? Was it lonely? Was it—“ Once her racing thoughts finally caught up to her, Gabby withdrew slightly, glancing away in thought. She then once more met her sister’s gaze. “I can’t wait to get home! But… I’ve got some friends here to say bye to first. I mean. I’m ready to go home! I’m not even unpacked! But… do you think… if we’ve got time…?”

Laura grew that one-sided smirk she always got when amused with Gabby. She planted a hand on Gabby’s head and rustled her hair. “Of course we do,” Laura answered. “Go on, say what you need to to your friends. I’ll get Jonathan and your stuff.”

Gabby let out a sigh of relief and let go of Laura. She was halfway out the door when Laura called to her.

“Gabby,” Laura said, hands on her hips. There was an easy softness to her gaze when Gabby looked to her. “I’m really proud of you, Wolverine.”

For a moment, Gabby could only blink in bewilderment. Then, slowly, the context caught up with her. She grinned back. “Thanks, Sis,” she said. “You too.”

#writing #marvel fic #Gabby Kinney #Laura Kinney #Ororo Munroe

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destiel-love-forever · 5 years

Text

15.3 CODA: Part 2

Read part one [HERE]

Castiel wakes just as the sun is rising. Despite not getting much sleep, he feels rested and ready to take on the day. As rested and ready as possible under the circumstances, anyway. The coffee pot is full of dark liquid that’s still warm. A yellow sticky note is stuck to the front of the machine, neat writing informing him that Jody had to go into work early, and telling him to help himself to anything he needs until she’s back at four P.M.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Castiel walks over to the two large sliding glass doors by the kitchen table and heads outside. The air is cool and crisp, but it feels nice. Refreshing. Castiel leans on the railing of the wooden deck and looks out at the brilliant colors of the back yard. The leaves are breathtaking.

“It’s freezing out here,” Castiel hears from the sliding doors. He glances over his shoulder and forces a smile when he sees Claire standing there.

“I don’t mind.”

She gives him a critical look before stepping out onto the porch and offering him a blanket, hat, scarf, and mittens. When he stares at them instead of taking them from her, she rolls her eyes. “You’re such a doof. Come here.”

When Castiel approaches her, she tugs the burgundy hat over his head, then winds the scarf around his neck. He gets with the program and gives her his coffee so she can hold it while he puts the mittens on as well. After, she wraps the flannel blanket around his shoulders and pats him on the shoulder.

“Much better,” Claire declares. Castiel just now notices that she’s dressed similarly, her black jacket matched with a black hat, a gray scarf, and a pair of mittens that are black with white and gray polka dots. She gives him his coffee back and smiles. “Now, you go ahead and do your weird staring off into space thing that you were just doing, but when you’re done, come inside. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“We do?”

“Yup. All sorts of plans.”

“We have plans? You and I?” Castiel asks, trying to clarify.

She rolls her eyes. “And Alex, too, yup. Chop chop.”

With two claps of her mitted hands, she heads back inside. He stares at the sliding door for another moment before turning his focus back to the trees.

“What in the world could they have planned with me?” he asks the myriad of red, yellow, and orange.

The trees don’t answer.

Just another reason to hate Chuck.

----

The first stop on their schedule is to a bakery. Castiel, Alex, and Claire all get something to drink and eat before hopping back in the car. As they drive, Claire and Alex talk to each other in a constant babble, letting Castiel be as he enjoys his hot cocoa and blueberry muffin. He's feeling much better now that his stomach is full and he's decently rested. Claire must be able to sense this, because she broaches the subject they've all clearly been avoiding as Alex pulls the car into a store parking lot.

"How are you, Cas? Jody said it was a rough night?"

"Rough few days," Castiel says quietly, looking down at his empty to-go cup. "I'll be fine, though. I am always fine."

There's a pause long enough for him to glance up. He finds that both girls are now frowning at him. "What?"

"Well, you're talking to two experts on pretending to be fine when you're really a fucking mess, so don't bullshit us," Claire says matter-of-factly.

"What Claire meant to say in a much kinder way, I'm sure," Alex says with an eye roll, "Is that you don't have to pretend with us. We don't have to talk about it, but feel free to do so. Or to just be sad or whatever else you feel like being. Okay?"

Castiel nods, understanding. "Okay."

"Great. Now, let's fix your coat."

Looking down at his trench coat, Castiel asks, “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“First of all, it’s thin, and you’re clearly more human now considering the way you scarfed down that muffin, so you need something warmer,” Alex explains. “It’s nearly winter now. You’re going to be too cold in that, Cas.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, that thing is atrocious, and old. My dad got that for Christmas when I was like… five. Time for a change, dude.”

Castiel doesn’t like change. He’s had enough damn change in his life recently. Eleven years ago, he commanded a garrison. He was one of Michael’s chosen few. Was given the privilege to save the righteous man. Michael’s true vessel. It was one of the highest honors.

He was respected.

He was feared.

Then he fell in love with humanity. With Dean, if we’re being honest. Those freckles that were like a galaxy on pale skin. Those green eyes that held so many questions and even more answers.

Castiel lost it all.

But he’ll tell ya what - he still has this trench coat. It’s been to hell and back - more than once. It’s all he has left.

That’s why, even though he’s shown multiple options, given at least a dozen eye rolls, and told twice that he’s a doof, Castiel walks out of the coat store with something very similar to his trusty trench coat, just made of wool instead so it’s warmer.

----

Pumpkin patches are wondrous places. Castiel had assumed it'd be a small farm with pumpkins everywhere, but that's not the case. At least not here. Yes, there are pumpkins. Many, many pumpkins, all of different shapes, sizes, and even colors. But there are also apples - an entire orchard of gorgeous red apples. There’s a corn maze, which Castiel finds both entertaining and frustrating. He gets lost so many times before a five or six year old child takes pity on him by leading him out. It was still a lot of fun, even if Alex and Claire teased him for being terrible at it.

They went for a hayride, too. The farm provided them with big flannel blankets and hot cocoa as they rode in the back, brought around the entire farm, the man driving telling them fascinating information on the crops and harvest, as well as the history of the area and the farm. Then they got to pet the farm animals. Castiel became fond of a horse that enjoyed licking his face. He even giggled, which felt very good to be honest.

Of course, Castiel’s favorite part of their day at the farm was the Bakery & Farm Store. He’s never tasted anything so delicious. They sat at a little table for over an hour, stuffing their faces until Castiel nearly got sick. Between the three of them sharing their treats, they all tried apple cider donuts, cinnamon rolls, strawberry crepes, apple pie, strawberry cream cheese danish, chocolate covered croissants, strawberry rhubarb pie, blueberry muffins, and caramel apple pie. The little old lady running the place liked them so much, she shared her pumpkin pie recipe with Castiel, who promised he’d go home and make it that night.

They left the farm with seven pumpkins, two bags of apples, a dozen apple cider donuts - which were Castiel’s favorite - and caramel apples to-go. By the time Castiel got to the car, he was full, happy, and exhausted. It was the perfect combo to curl up in the backseat and take a little snooze during their long ride home.

He fell asleep smiling.

----

Dean is wide awake despite it being the middle of the night. He's been stalking Castiel's Instagram. Yes. Instagram. Apparently Claire and Alex thought he needed one. Dean only has the damn thing to stalk Dr. Sexy MD actors, but now he's using it to stalk a certain falling angel he can't stop thinking about.

Since he saw the first picture, Dean has been refreshing the page every other minute. It had been a picture taken by Claire, which is how Dean originally came across it, with Castiel tagged in it. He was standing outside, wrapped in a flannel blanket and drinking something from a mug as he stared off at the colorful backyard. Claire's caption had been: Finally finding his peace.

That was at 4:07 P.M, though clearly it had been taken much earlier in the day.

Suffice to say, Dean has gotten nothing accomplished tonight. He hasn't even eaten dinner. All he's done is sit in his room, drink whiskey, and refresh the page.

At 4:37 P.M, there had been the first two photos uploaded by Castiel himself. One was of him reaching up to pluck a leaf off of a tree. The other was just his mitted hand holding the same leaf. The caption for the two was a simple: My favorite.

Dean ached at the fact he wasn't there. He wondered what Castiel's face looked like when he caught sight off this one perfect leaf. Wondered if he had smiled when he finally got it in his hands. Wondered if Castiel still had the leaf, or if he had easily tossed it onto the ground after the photo, just like Dean had done to him.

At 4:42 P.M, Claire uploaded a few photos. One was of Castiel in his new coat and winter gear Dean noticed in the previous photos. He was smiling at something off to the side, a pumpkin patch lined by colorful trees behind him. The next was of Castiel's mittens holding a blue travel coffee mug. Then a photo of Castiel's torso as he holds a pumpkin. Dean knew it was Castiel because of the tiny scar on his thumb. It was from nicking himself with an angel blade last week. With his lowered grace, it hasn't healed properly. Dean had to choke down a new wave of guilt at that reminder before he could look at the final photo. It was of the girls and Castiel around a table where they seemed to be carving pumpkins. They were laughing.

Castiel was wearing a new sweater.

At 5:13 P.M, Castiel posted a photo of a carved pumpkin. It was quite awful. The eyes were different sizes, the nose was partially cut out, but the piece of pumpkin was still stuck inside of it for some reason, and the smile was… unique. The caption was: Claire said I 'nailed it.'

Dean had to wait two hours for another photo. And that's what he did. He waited. Did nothing but drink and hate himself. And, of course, refresh the page.

At 7:22 P.M, Castiel finally posted another photo. It made Dean's heart skip. Well… the caption had, anyway. The pumpkin pie itself was a bit shaky, considering the darker-than-they-should-be edges. But the caption had brought tears to Dean's eyes. It would have tasted better with you.

Dean had tried calling Claire after that. Then Alex. Then Claire again. They ignored him. When he tried calling Jody, she sent a text back saying she was at work, asking if it was an emergency.

With a fresh glass of whiskey, he had waited.

At 8:36 P.M, Castiel posted two more pictures. One of someone making a s'more, a bonfire in the background. The other, two pairs of feet wearing wool socks as they rest up against the side of the fire pit. To the right were blue socks with little snowflakes on them. To the left were bright yellow socks covered in bumble bees.

Dean knew which one was Castiel.

The caption was a simple: Happy.

It made Dean curl into his pillow and cry.

The last one that Dean saw was at 11:57 P.M. It showed Castiel sitting on a bed, holding a purple mug with Witch Please written on it in one hand, and holding an open book in the other. He was in a gray hooded sweater, his legs covered with a blanket the same color as his gorgeous eyes. It was captioned: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

It's at 3:09 A.M. that Dean realizes Castiel must have fallen asleep.

He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes after, heart racing even though it has no reason to be. It takes a while for the whiskey soaked exhaustion to win over his mind, but eventually Dean slips into a dream.

Castiel is there. In a pumpkin patch. He looks at Dean with a smile and hands him a beautiful leaf. "My favorite for my favorite."

And Dean kisses him.

He kisses him like his life depends on it.

He kisses him like he knows, deep down, that he'll soon have to wake up.

If you enjoy my work & would like to support it, please consider buying me a quick coffee [HERE] or become a Patron [HERE]. Thanks!

#supernatural #spn spoilers #season 15 spoilers #15.3 #15x03 #supernatural coda #15.3 coda #the rupture #fall activities #Cas gets an instagram #Claire and Alex give Cas a day to remember #Dean's regretting all decisions #HAPPY CAS #Part 2

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paintingwithdarkness · 5 years

Note

23 and Bluepulse for the Christmas prompt list, if that ok.

Sleigh Ride

Jaime felt his fiancé shiver against him and huddle closer to his side as they continued walking down the snow laden path. He had his arm wrapped around Bart’s waist, and there was a huge, thick winter jacket draped over both of their shoulders in an attempt to block the windchill and cold from the snow falling down around them. It had been Bart’s idea to go for a walk through the park nearest their apartment earlier in the evening, so that they could see the Christmas lights and decorations. Neither of them had anticipated getting caught in the snow.

Jaime was only wearing his usual jeans and hoodie combo in addition to the jacket they’d brought to share. Fortunately, the bugsuit was insulated and Khaji Da could control the temperature based on Jaime’s bodily needs, so he didn’t have to worry about being cold. The armor was easily concealed underneath his clothing, so he could still appear as a “normal” civilian.

Bart, on the other hand, was not as lucky. He’d thrown on a sweater, knowing it was going to be colder than usual outside, and his customary raglan would not cut it. Faded jeans and sneakers covered his legs and feet. Despite his heightened metabolism, and the fact that he could quite literally vibrate to keep warm, Bart was still feeling the effects of Jack Frost’s storm. He couldn’t vibrate at a fast enough frequency to get himself truly warm without drawing the attention of unsuspecting passersby, and he and Jaime had made promises to each other not to use their powers out of costume, anyway. The best he could manage was huddling closer to his fiancé’s warm side, and wrapping their coat tighter around his own frame, to block out the chill.

Jaime dropped a kiss into Bart’s snow blown auburn locks, and rubbed a hand up the younger man’s sweater-covered arm. “It’s getting late. Want to head back home? I can make hot chocolate.”

Bart leaned his head on Jaime’s shoulder, causing the taller of the two to shiver for himself when the icy flakes caught in Bart’s hair began melting against his otherwise warm neck. “The lights just went on, and we haven’t even seen the tree yet.” The speedster groped in the space between them, searching for Jaime’s hand so that he could link their cold fingers together.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, Amor.” Jaime used their newly linked hands to drag the smaller man in front of him. True to his word, Bart was trembling hard. Jaime would have gone in for a kiss, worried for the shade of blue his fiancé’s lips were beginning to take on, but had to restrain himself in fear of having his tongue bit off by Bart’s chattering teeth.

A smirk worked its way onto the speedster’s face. “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. Having dated Bart as long as he had, he should have expected his husband-to-be’s cheesy lyrical response.

“Uh huh, and Jack Frost is nipping at your nose,” he quipped back, settling for a quick peck to the named feature.

Bart let out a giggle.

“It’s too cold out here,” Jaime tried to convince his stubborn fiancé, “You’re starting to turn blue.”

Bart kept up the banter. “You’re Blue. I’m Bart.”

The older man shook his head. “Seriamente, Cariño. Neither of us are dressed right for this kind of weather. Khaji says we’re going to get frostbite if we’re out here for too much longer.” Jaime shrugged his half of the jacket off of his shoulders and wrapped the entire thing around his trembling beau.

Bart pouted, disappointed that they would not be able to stay out longer to admire the twinkling lights that had been strung up in the trees, and the plastic candy canes that had been planted along the footpaths. He was especially put out that they had not had the time to gawk at the fifty foot tree that had been erected in the middle of the park and decorated in the holiday spirit. Since coming to the past, and actually getting to celebrate holidays (no one had kept track of dates in the future, nor had the supplies to host a proper celebration), Bart had taken a special liking to Christmas. Every year, he enjoyed spending time with his family and boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s family, and completing the long list of holiday rituals. Going out around town to look at the decorations had always been one of his favorites.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Bart’s waist again and continued to guide him down the snowy trail. It was getting darker, which meant it was getting colder, which meant they needed to be getting home. Even with his temperature-controlled suit on underneath his civilian clothes, Jaime was feeling the sting of the frosty air on his face and hands, which were slowly starting to go numb. He could only imagine what his fiancé felt like. Despite the rush however, Jaime had to admit, he was enjoying looking at the lights almost as much as Bart. Christmas was his favorite holiday, too.

“Oh! Jaime!” Bart was pointing across the park at something Jaime couldn’t quite make out.

He squinted to see. Nestled between two trees was a huge sleigh, adorned by two horses. A man, dressed up in complete Santa paraphernalia was holding the reins and gently stroking the snout of the horse closest to him. A sign standing next to the sleigh was advertising rides for five dollars a passenger.

“Can we go? Please?” Bart looked up at Jaime with round, pleading, puppy dog eyes.

Immediately the older man caved. “Okay, but we have to go home after. The snow is really starting to come down.”

Bart let out a cheer and kissed Jaime’s cold cheek with his equally cold lips. Eagerly, he grabbed onto the older man’s wrist and dragged him across the park to meet the Santa doppelgänger.

“Evening, gentlemen!” The bearded man greeted upon seeing the couple approach.

“Good evening,” Jaime returned. He dug into his wallet and pulled out two fives, handing them to Santa. “Two of us for a sleigh ride, please.”

The man nodded. “Hop on in,” he encouraged.

Jaime took Bart’s hand and helped his shorter fiancé step up into the sleigh before following behind. As Jaime sat down, he admired the soft, red velvet cushioning on the bench and interior and the sleek oak floor his and Bart’s sneakers were now squeaking against. The auburn-haired speedster tucked against his side, lacing their fingers together and resting his head on Jaime’s shoulder. Jaime smiled as he gently laid his head on top of Bart’s.

The sleigh-driver climbed up onto a bench attached to the very front of the sleigh and gave a gentle slap to the horses’ flanks with the reins, causing them to lurch forward. Bart giggled in joy, and Jaime felt a smile curving his lips in response. He was glad his lover seemed to be enjoying himself.

It only took a minute for the horses to reach a steady trot, tugging the sleigh along behind them over the fresh snow. Despite the fact that the frozen flakes had only just started falling, there had been enough snow over the past few days that a thick enough layer had built up on the ground and the sleigh was able to glide smoothly. The Santa doppelgänger looked over his shoulder at Bart and Jaime and smiled.

“It warms my heart to see young people like you gentlemen so in love. It reminds me of when my wife and I used to be your age.”

When Jaime got a good look at the man, he noticed that the white beard clinging to his chin was in fact the real deal and not a fake as he had first thought.

“My Sarah’s passed on though, and I know she’s in a better place. These sleigh rides- we used to go on one every year around Christmas. I always loved watching her eyes light up with excitement because of all the Christmas lights and decorations. It was my favorite part about the holiday. Giving these rides to people like you makes me feel connected to her. I can almost imagine my Sarah sitting here right on this bench next to me...” the old man patted the seat beside him, a nostalgic look overtaking his face.

It was gone as soon as it appeared. “But surely you young lads don’t want to hear about this old Santa’s love life. Tell me your story. Newly weds? Boyfriends? How long have you two been together?”

Bart smiled proudly, squeezing Jaime’s hand. “Seven years!” He exclaimed. “Our wedding is set for February.”

‘February 28th to be exact,’ Jaime thought. ‘Ten years since Bart crashed into this timeline and changed my life forever.’

The old man smiled kindly. “Engaged! Congratulations!”

A blush bloomed on each of the young men’s faces.

“Thank you, Sir,” Jaime managed to get out.

Santa continued on. Jaime could tell he was genuinely invested in all that they had to tell him.

“Which one of you fellas was the lucky guy? Who proposed?”

Jaime felt Bart’s hand gently slip from his own so that he could show off his engagement ring. Jaime had had the gold band set with seven small rubies; one for each year they had been together. Along the inside of the band, Jaime had inscribed ‘You Set Me Free’. Bart was the one who had saved him from the Reach, and Jaime owed him his life. If that meant showing him the love he deserved and giving him everything he could possibly dream for, Jaime was ready to accept the role. He loved every fiber of Bart, and the speedster meant everything to him.

“Lucky indeed!” The old man whistled as he admired Bart’s ring. “February, huh? That’s coming up fast! I wish you both the best.”

Bart and Jaime both smiled. “Thank you.”

The ride continued on rather peacefully. Bart settled back against Jaime again, tucking their sides close together and holding his hand, quiet for once. When Jaime looked over at his fiancé, he couldn’t help feeling breathless, because Bart was breathtaking.

The snow was falling much more gently now than it had been before the ride, and crystalline flakes of ice were getting caught in and shining in Bart’s hair. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold, and he looked adorable drowning in the much too big winter jacket wrapped around him. But the most beautiful thing was his eyes. Bart’s jade eyes were luminous, glowing with the light of the many strands of Christmas bulbs strung up in the trees around them. Jaime could see warmth and joy and awe all reflected back at him, as Bart took in the Winter Wonderland around them. And then they turned on him.

All Jaime could see reflected in his eyes now was love.

“Merry Christmas, Babe,” Bart said to him, tenderly. The speedster leaned in towards Jaime’s lips, seeking a kiss.

“Feliz Navidad, Cariño,” Jaime replied before their lips collided. And in that moment, he knew there was no other place he’d rather be.

Merry Christmas @photographykomiko! Hope you enjoy your Drabble and have a happy rest of your year!

#young justice #bart allen #jaime reyes #blue beetle #kid flash #flash #bluepulse #yj #christmas #merry christmas

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eddieeatsass · 5 years

Note

15 + 28 for reddie from the prompt list

Turned Evil/Dark Au + Wearing the Other’s Clothes from this prompt list

(I took this in a slightly different direction than was probably expected. I tried to take an interesting spin on things, and I hope it worked out. This was super fun to write, thanks for the great prompt combo!)

Posted on AO3

To us, a mirror was just a mirror; a reflective surface used to primp ourselves in the morning and make sure we don’t have food stuck in our teeth after supper. But what if it were more than that? What if it were a gateway into an alternate dimension, where everything was the same, yet completely different.

Most of us would never get an answer to that question, it would remain a conspiracy theory for ages to come. But a select few might occasionally catch a glance into that other reality, moments they’d write off as ‘too much coffee’ or ‘not enough sleep’.

In our world, we can confidently say that we don’t yet have the technology to travel dimensions, let alone prove the existence of multiple dimensions in the first place. However, we can’t say the same with certainty for our potential doppelgangers on the other side.

“Who said you could go first, fuck nut!?” Richie grabbed at Eddie’s hair, pulling back with a hard yank and pushing in front of him.

“Seniority privileges. Plus it keeps me from having to look at your ugly mug.” Eddie stuck out his foot, successfully tripping Richie and watching him topple through the mirror. Eddie followed through the liquid glass, stepping around Richie’s body and taking a look around the room.

It looked about the same as their own, only disgustingly cleaner. One of them definitely had a stick up their ass in this universe.

“I’m only two months younger than you, you idiot.” Richie ground out, reaching out and grabbing Eddie’s ankle, laughing as he watched him hit the ground just as Richie had.

Eddie rolled over, looking back at Richie with a glare and a loud shushing noise.

“Unless you wanna wake them up, I’d suggest you keep your trashmouth closed for once.” Eddie gestured up to the bed where this universe’s versions of themselves were sound asleep.

Richie rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and beginning to look around the room.

A few hours ago, they’d been bored enough to actually consider dimension hopping for the first time ever. It had never really appealed to them before, the process seemed so long and dull, but they’d had nothing better to do. So now here they found themselves, still bored out of their skulls, but now having to be quiet about it.

“Oooo score.” Richie swiped some change off the bedside table, pocketing it for later and continuing to rummage through drawers as quietly as he could.

Eddie was looking through the closet, trying to hold back a gag at the sight of brightly colored gaudy button ups and prissy polo shirts. With a wicked grin, he threw on an over-sized Hawaiian shirt over his black t-shirt, and tiptoed over to Richie.

“Hiya Eds.” Eddie mocked in a low tone, draping himself over Richie’s back and creeping his hands up his chest teasingly. When Richie turned around he slapped a hand over his mouth to hold in his eruption of laughter, coated heavily with disdain.

“That’s horrendous.” Richie said, once he managed to calm himself down enough to whisper again.

“I have half a mind to burn their entire closet, and subsequently, them along with it.” Eddie sneered, pulling the fabric away from his body with his thumb and forefinger.

“From the sight of how big that is on your bite-sized frame-”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d guess that’s my shirt?”

“I guess in this universe you’ve accepted those unfortunate looks of yours and have given up trying all together.”

Richie flattened his hand against Eddie’s face and pushed him out of the way, walking towards the closet as Eddie stumbled to keep from falling over.

“Your clothes aren’t any better.” Richie commented, crinkling his nose as he came across a particularly preppy dress shirt. It was pastel pink with gold adornments on the tips of the collar, and obviously child-sized.

Richie pulled his sweater over his head, letting it drop to the floor before trying to shimmy his way into the dress shirt. It ripped almost immediately, a large tear across the back, and Richie heard Eddie snickering from where he watched.

“Shut up or I’ll stuff my cock down your throat and make you.” Richie shot back, giving up on the shirt and letting it join his sweater on the floor.

“You say that like your cock isn’t the size of a cocktail wiener.”

“People have died from choking on cocktail wieners.” Richie responded, picking through the closet once again.

“You can’t kill me here, there’d be too much evidence.”

“Not if I take goody-two-shoes Eddie back with me. Then it just looks like Richie and Eddie here got into a little marital tussle and one snapped. Remember, you do look identical.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Good luck getting him to do the things I do in bed.” He mumbled.

“You know, it might be nice having someone submissive for once. Someone who isn’t keen on arguing with me the whole time, who will let me do anything I want to him.” Richie had stalked towards Eddie, closing the distance between them and bringing them nose to nose. They stood at the foot of the bed where their counterparts lay blissfully unaware in slumber.

“Oh, you want a submissive huh?” Eddie began fiddling with the button on his jeans, keeping his eyes locked on Richie’s in challenge. ”You want me to let you win? Because that’s the only way you could actually dominate me. But if that’s what you want, I’ll take pity on you.” Eddie pulled his pants down around his thighs, bending over the bed frame and presenting his ass to Richie.

Richie growled as he grabbed Eddie’s cheeks, pulling him backwards against his lap and grinding his clothed cock into Eddie’s skin.

“You pathetic slut, I’m going to make you eat your fucking words.”

Eddie made a fake yawning gesture, looking back over his shoulder with an unimpressed expression.

“I’ll believe you when I feel it.” Eddie challenged.

Richie was pulling down his own pants within seconds, grabbing at his cock and teasing Eddie’s hole with it.

“I should make you take it raw for that bullshit you were spouting, but your screaming might wake the babies, and then no one would get to have fun.” Richie let a line of spit trickle from his mouth down to Eddie’s hole, wetting the area significantly less than lube would, but more than nothing. Then, without any warning, he shoved himself in to the hilt.

Eddie straightened up suddenly, the pain shooting through his spine causing him to go rigid. He bit into his lip to keep his scream held in, tasting copper on his tongue from the force. He felt like he was being split open, Richie’s cock a saw blade that wouldn’t relent enough to give him a moment to adjust. Tears sprung to his eyes from the pain, but it also caused arousal to stir low in his stomach.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Eddie spat. He earned a hand around his throat in response, cackling as the sound got cut off.

“Huh? What was that?” Richie whispered wickedly into Eddie’s ear. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your ass devouring my cock.”

Eddie tried to bite back a response, but the sound wouldn’t pass by the hold Richie had on his neck. Choked out moans got knocked out of him every time Richie thrust into him, hitting that delicious spot that made his hazy eyes see stars.

Richie brought his free hand up to Eddie’s mouth, forcing his fingers between his lips and hooking two into his cheek like a fish hook. It forced Eddie’s mouth open, drool collecting around Richie’s fingers and dripping down Eddie’s chin.

“Bite my fingers and I stop.” Richie warned, knowing Eddie well enough to speak before he tried anything.

Eddie glared at Richie, opting instead to reach back with his arms and claw his nails down Richie’s exposed back. Richie hissed at the sensation, knowing full well that Eddie wasn’t holding back. He’d probably drawn blood… Richie made a note to punish him for that later.

Eddie’s moans became more frequent as he climbed towards his peak, still kept quiet by the hand around his throat and the fingers in his mouth. But Richie was also approaching his release, and he needed both his hands for it.

With reluctance, Richie pulled his hands away, moving one from the front of Eddie’s neck to the back and using the leverage to push Eddie’s upper half down against the bed. It was risky, having Eddie so close to the sleeping pair, but the risk is what pushed Richie over the edge.

He quickly pulled out of Eddie and grasped his cock at the base, pumping himself through his orgasm as he shot thick ropes of cum across the back of the shirt Eddie wore. His seed quickly disappeared among the busy pattern.

Below him, Eddie was cursing him out quietly. Richie didn’t pay him much mind, not caring if he’d cum or not. He’d been a brat and brats don’t get to finish.

“Get yourself off if you’re so worried about it.” Richie said cattily, tucking himself back into his pants.

Just as Eddie was about to respond, he felt a shuffling underneath him. He shot up from where he’d been bent over the bed, pulling up his pants in the process as he stumbled back into Richie.

Before them appeared a drowsy Richie, sat upright in bed with his eyes nearly shut. He seemed to be looking straight at them, but also straight through them.

“Eds? Why are you wearing my shirt?” He mumbled confusedly.

Eddie stared in horror, glancing between his Richie and the Richie that was a moment away from finding out about inter-dimensional travelling.

“Uh… go back to sleep, this is just a dream.” Eddie tried, cringing at his own cliche line.

Richie blinked at them for a moment.

“If this is a dream, can I have sex with other me?”

“Sure, you idiot, now lay down.” Other Richie replied.

“I like it when I talk dirty to myself.” His speech was sleep slurred as he laid back down, resting his head on his pillow and stilling after a few seconds, his breath evening back out.

Eddie let out a shaky breath, turning to his Richie and raising an eyebrow.

“You’re even stupider in this universe than you are in our own.” He accused.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t get your ass back into our universe in the next five seconds, I’m leaving you here to deal with dumb me, so let’s go.” Richie grumbled, picking up his discarded sweater on his way towards the mirror.

Eddie joined him, prepared to jump back through until Richie stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Leave the shirt.”

“Wha- but it’s a souvenir!” Eddie objected.

“This isn’t fucking Disney World. And besides, wouldn’t you rather leave a mysterious cum stained shirt here; stir up some trouble for the happy couple?”

Richie’s eyes shone dark, malevolence expanding his pupils. Eddie smirked back at him, his previously neglected cock stirring once again at Richie’s ill nature.

“I like how you think.” Eddie peeled the shirt off, making sure it landed in a bundle where the quickly drying stain would soon be visible, front and center.

And with that, Richie took Eddie’s hand, walking them back through the mirror and back to their own lives.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #dark reddie #evil reddie #reddie lemon #reddie smut #reddie prompt #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #my posts #my writing #lemon #fanfic #fandom-dhaddy #ask #dark verse

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modharlow · 6 years

Text

“Today seems like a good day to possibly kill myself, lads.” You huffed out while you tried to chop wood for the camp.

You were failing. Pretty badly, too! Who knew chopping wood was so hard? They always made it look so easy in videos…

With a short sigh, you wiped the sweat off your forehead as you took in a deep breath.

Okay! You got this!

Accompanied by an axe in hand, determination, and looking oh-so fine like a lumberjack those Tumblr gays always daydreamed about, you swung the hatchet over your shoulder and prepared to swing down like a monster destroying a small village and—

”Not if I kill you first.”

—You missed!… And you also lost your balance. Talk about a combo attack!

”Oh my god, I was on x-games mode, why did you interrupt me.” You quickly replied while lying on the ground, one arm propping you up with the other lied sexily on your hip. You were trying to look suave and like you didn’t just almost bash your head onto the ground.

Charles, the person who was ordered to watch over you (and was also your self-proclaimed ‘best friend forever’), simply chuckled in response at your usual antics as he went over to grab the fallen axe. He adjusted the weapon in his hands and spun it once before letting it fall onto his shoulder. “Your ‘x-games’ mode didn’t seem to be working out.” He finally lent his hand out to help you up. “You weren’t holding the axe right either way. You were bound to mess up.”

”Ouch! Just hit me while I’m down, huh? Huh? Huh, Mr. Smith?”

After you got up you tried to take the axe back but comically jutted your bottom lip out when he didn’t give it. “Arthur wants you.” Was all he said before he got to cutting the wood.

”Aw, but we were having a bonding mo—wait, he wants me?” You purred out with a poorly done waggle of your eyebrows.

”Not like that.” He countered but let out a small ‘as far as I know’ afterwards. “And, maybe, our next ‘bonding moment’ can be me teaching you,” He brought the weapon down onto the circular wood, turning it into smaller, less circular, pieces, “how to do this.” Geez, now he was the sexy lumberjack everyone wanted.

As Charles grabbed another piece, he gave you the ‘go-do-this-thing-because-I’m-the-experienced-one-here’ look. “Now, go see Arthur. Should be with John.”

”Kk, bye, love you lots!” You called out when you speedwalked away from the half-native male, missing how he nodded in your direction as his own way of saying “love you too”.

While you hummed to I Really Like You by our lord and savior Carley Rae Jepsen, you spotted Arthur and John conversing to themselves. As you got closer, you could hear bits of the topic at hand.

”’Nd I’m just sayin’, John. That’s how they were when I picked ‘em up. Suicide humor ‘n’ all—actually, why are you suddenly so concerned for their health anyways?”

John looked at the tall bear before groaning and turning away, before looking back again and trying to explain himself. “They’re close to Abi and Jack, Arthur. If they die do you know how heartbroken they’d be?”

Arthur gave him an incredulous look.

After a moment of staring, John threw his hands up in the air and said, “Okay, fine! They’re closer to Jack and I really, really don’t need that boy to develope their morbid humor! It’s not good for his age! ‘Least wait until he’s in his mid-twenties.”

Arthur let out a hum in understanding as he adjusted his hat to show off more of his face. “I take ‘em in to see a doctor, you’re goin’ with me.”

”What, why?”

”Because it’s your plan, John.” Arthur let out a small breath. “I know we all worried ‘bout ‘em but we all agreed that this was just their way of bein’, such as us bein’ outlaws.”

John let out a groan in frustration. “But we ain’t suicidal like them, Arthur!”

”’S far as you know.”

Being held in another staring contest, you began to wonder if your humor was really this concerning. Sure it wasn’t exactly… ideal but neither was being stuck in a world that you barely know anything about with no family, friends, or pets to help comfort you.

Everyone in the gang was born in this era, raised by it’s laws, while you were from a more advanced one. It was bound to get a bit lonely so you did what you thought was best to cope but… could you really be like the old you from your world? The one who hid behind self-deprecating humor and baggy sweaters?

…Yeah. For now, this is who you were going to be. Until… at least until you can feel confident enough to at least tell Charles or Hosea about everything.

Pastering on a smile, you interrupted to two in a sing-song voice. “Hell~o, my two loveliest boys!” You swung an arm around John’s shoulder as you shot Arthur a wink. “My super best friend said you wanted me, hm~?”

After a slightly-awkward short pause, the two outlaws glanced at each other before John begrudgingly nodded his head.

Coughing into his fist, Arthur spoke. “Me ‘nd John have been a little, err, worried ‘bout ya. Y’know, with all the harsh jokes ‘n’ such… Was wonderin’ if you wanted—“

”—Needed someone to talk to.” John cut his brother off, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

”Uh, that too?” Arthur muttered as he looked quizzically between the two before him.

You had a look of indifference on your face before speaking in a monotone tone, “Girl, what’chu been smokin’?”

Shaking his head at your reply, John turned away from you both and up to the sky. “Of course we don’t get a serious response. Why would we?”

”Ignore him.” Arthur butted in when he place his hands on your shoulders. “Listen to me, okay? I don’t know why or when you started usin’ such things to cope, ‘nd frankly I won’t pry, but if you truly ever need t’talk then you know you can speak to us.” He glanced at John who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. “…Well, most of us. Actually, just talk to me, Charles, Hosea, or Tilly. Everyone else is a maybe.” He paused. “Okay, not everyone else. Don’t speak to Micah. Never speak to Micah.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle near the end and nodded your head. “Okay I won’t speak to Micah. Not like I wanted to either way. His ass stank something serious.”

”I’m gonna pretend I know what that means.”

”Good! That’s a proper response to most of the shit I say.” You shrugged your shoulders before letting out an ‘ah!’. “Was, uh, was that all you two wanted or…?”

John, who was forced to come back from his ‘why-do-we-even-try’ attitude, unsurely spoke. “You… you wanna go huntin’, or somethin’?”

In a swift moment, you suddenly had John’s hands in your own with a grin on your lips. “Really? You’ll let lil ol’ me handle a bow?!”

Arthur quickly interjected, placing an arm between you and John. “No, no! We can’t trust you after last time! You can help us scout but we ain’t lettin’ you outta our sights with a weapon.”

After you fake-sadly agreed Arthur sent John off to tell Dutch about the change of plans. He was about go get ready to leave until he felt your hands gently clamp around his forearm.

Looking back at you, he rose a brow as he waited for you to speak. “Thanks for your guys’ concern. Sorry for worrying y’all.” You muttered, eyes looking towards his coat’s neckline rather than his own.

”’S fine. Just… remember that we all want you here, m’ok? Even if we don’t understand half the words that leave your mouth.”

”Yeah.” You muttered softly as you broke him away from your grasp.

You two stared at each other for a moment before you awkwardly coughed into the air and began walking towards his horse. “Anyways, let’s go hunting for some bears.”

”No.”

”Aw, it was worth a shot!”

///. ///. ///. ///. ///. ///

This was inspired by @heart-of-gold-outlaw ‘s Modern!Reader prompts, lol. Hope it was okay to write this! :^}

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gosecretscribbles · 5 years

Text

MonthofMaybel2019 Week 1: Sweaters

Takes place after Dipper and Mabel have left the falls and started their school year. Enjoy, doods!

“ANGELAAAAA!” Mabel sang at the top of her lungs. And then promptly crashed into her on the school's front steps.

Luckily Angela was a veteran of surprise Mabel Hugs and managed not to fall over.

“Hello, Mabel,” she gasped. “I'm guessing you had an extra bowl of Sugar O's?”

“Try four,” Dipper said, grinning apologetically as he caught up to them. “She was up until 3 AM making that.”

“Making – whoa, Mabel, that is beautiful!”

Mabel laughed and twirled on the spot. Her brand-new sweater was a cashmere blend the color of a rosy dawn, soft as kitten breath, with a hem that flared out like flower petals as she spun. It even seemed to shimmer a little, although Mabel was pretty sure that was just a sugar high side effect.

“And that's not even the best part!” Mabel said. She stopped spinning and held out her arms. “Tada!”

Angela gasped.

The body of the sweater had the usual perfectly even braiding, but Mabel had sewn two words in Old Norse Runes into either sleeve, courtesy of Angela, who was a serious Norse Nerd. She even carried around a set of runes for fortune-telling in her big canvas bag.

“That's why you wanted my Old Norse dictionary!”

“What do they say?” Dipper asked, leaning forward.

“That one's 'wish' and that one's 'truth' and I will buy this sweater from you right now do you take cookies as payment?”

By the time they reached Mrs. Pierce's class, Mabel had agreed to knit three sweaters for Angela, each with different runes, in exchange for three batches of brownies and an Unlimited Smoothie Stamp Card from Blizzard's.

The rest of the class was already filing in after them. Several of them were loaded down with parkas, scarves, and mittens, because despite the still-summer weather, Mrs. Pierce liked to keep the room at a chilly 52 degrees.

“This was room temperature in Alaska and we liked it!” she'd tell them.

“Oh – sorry!” Mabel said, accidentally bumping into Ximena on her way to her desk. Mabel really liked Ximena – she always made sure everybody got included on the playground and told awesome jokes, mostly puns so bad they were practically Stan-worthy.

But today, she didn't even look up. Just grunted.

Chris, who sat next to Ximena, snickered under his breath. “Troll, meet Tree. You two make a cute couple.”

Mabel scowled. “Leaver her alone, Chris.”

“Or what, you gonna sic your pig on me? Huh?!”

“Forget it,” Dipper said sharply. He put one arm around Mabel's shoulders and guided her to her desk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but did you see Ximena?” Mabel glanced back. She was hunched over with her head hanging low. “She looks seriously bummed out. I bet she's upset it's always so cold and we can't even make any snowmen...hey Dipper, do you think we could build a snow machine!?”

“It would probably melt, it's not technically freezing in here.”

“It feels like it,” said three separate people.

“Okay, class!” Mrs. Pierce called out, striding into the room. She immediately went to the thermostat and turned it down. Everyone groaned. “Now none of that! It's first thing in the morning and I won't have people falling asleep! Besides, this was room temperature in Alaska –”

“– and that was how we liked it,” the class changed.

“Correct! Now, homework out, please!”

Mabel took out her homework, glancing anxiously at Ximena. She already had her workbook out and she was writing along with everyone else, but she was all hunched over and her dark brown hair hid her face like a curtain of pure angst. Mabel tapped her chin. She'd have to think of a pun even worse than Stan's to cheer her up. But what?

Mabel was still trying to think of something fifteen minutes into class. That's when she automatically reached into her backpack for her thermos of hot chocolate – and then stopped when she realized she still wasn't cold!

She looked around. Everyone who'd brought a coat was bundled up, and Dipper was already taking sips of his own thermos. Angela had thrown an actual blanket around her shoulders and was still shivering. But Mabel wasn't cold at all. In fact, her whole body felt like she'd been napping in the sun with the world's best pig!

It's the sweater! she realized. It had to be the cashmere, right? But she hadn't thought it would make her this toasty. Even her bare legs were perfectly comfortable.

Ximena, on the other hand, was wearing a thin T-shirt and had so many goosebumps Mabel could see them from two rows back. Mabel grinned – sweaters were like hugs you could wear all the time, this would be the perfect way to cheer her up!

“Ximena!” she shout-whispered. “Hey, Ximena! Pst pst pssssst!”

“Shut up, Tree Sap,” Chris growled at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him and waved instead. Finally Ximena looked over.

Mabel whipped off her sweater and held it out. The cold instantly stung her arms and numbed her fingers, but Ximena took it with a nod and put it on. Mabel sat back, smiling happily. Being warm would make her feel better right away!

She returned to the worksheet she was currently doodling on. Her fingers were tingly and se was debating on the best way to warm them when Ximena let out a tiny sneeze.

“Bless you,” she said automatically.

Dipper leaned across the aisle, tapped Mabel's shoulder, and mouthed “Cold enough for ya?”

She mimed becoming an ice cube and they both grinned.

Ximena sneezed again.

“Bless you,” said Mabel, the teacher, and a few other students. Chris glared at her like the sneeze had been a personal insult. Mabel rolled her eyes. Now there was a permanent case of the grumpy-grumps.

Ximena sneezed harder.

Mrs. Pierce turned away from the board. “Ximena, if you need a tissue, they're – what on earth?!”

Ximena sneezed, and kept sneezing, and every time she did a spray of soap bubbles came streaming out of her nose!

Several students actually jumped up with shouts of surprised, leaning away. By now Ximena was sneezing nonstop and she was almost completely hidden behind a cloud of iridescent soapy goodness.

“Snot bubbles!” Chris shouted.

“Chris, that's enough! Ximena, if you thought it was funny to bring bubble toys to class –”

“I di – achoo! – didn't bring – achoo! ACHOO!”

She started sneezing so hard she clawed at her chest. Mabel and Dipper instantly rushed to help. She yanked the sweater off and Dipper made her sit back down with her head tilted back, just a little, to open her airways.

Nathan leaned forward, waving the sinking bubbles away. “Ximena? Is she okay?”

“I'm fine,” Ximena gasped.

Mabel winced. “I'm sorry, it's cashmere and wool, are you allergic to those?”

“What? No, I –”

“Betcha the Pig Princess rigged the sweater,” Chris said loudly. “Either that or the two of them planned the whole prank!”

“We did not!” the two said hotly.

“That's enough,” Mrs. Pierce cut in. She was looking straight at Ximena and Mabel, her eyes cold. “Nathan, please escort Ximena to the nurse's office. I'd like her checked out just in case. When you come back, Ximena, I'd like a word with you after class – you too, Ms. Pines.”

“So how bad was it?” Angela asked.

She, Dipper, and Mabel were sitting down for lunch. The weather was nice, so they'd decided to eat on the benches outside.

Mabel grimaced. “We didn't get in trouble, but I don't think Chris' comments helped that much. He stuck around afterwards because he said he was a 'witness.' Just because my pig ate his homework one time –”

“He's a grade A jerk in general,” Dipper said sourly. “Remember last year, with the Open House? He nearly got Summer suspended and nobody could prove it was really him. He just likes getting other people in trouble.”

Angela nodded. “He sure turned on Ximena fast, and she looked more freaked out than anyone. What the heck happened back there?”

Mabel shrugged miserably. “I don't know. I was just trying to cheer her up, so I loaned her my sweater.”

“Hmmm.” Dipper eyed the offending sweater critically. “Let me see that for a sec?”

“Sure, how come?”

“Actually, Angela, you take a look. Are there any runes that were sewn in by accident? I man there's one rune that's a straight line, so...”

“That's ice, I don't think – wait, look, there are extra runes!”

Mabel gasped. “Where where where?!”

She and Dipper leaned forward, and Angela held it up to the light. The cloth shimmered again, and this time Mabel could see tiny lines of silver thread criss-crossing in the narrow gaps between her stitches. The thread was as slender as a spider's web and so delicate that it was nearly invisible, but as it caught the light Mabel saw that the thread spelled out actual runes!

“Whoa, okay, I didn't do that,” Mabel said, still in awe. “Wow, that stitching is amazing! Look at that part, it's got combo stitches in it!”

“What does it say?” Dipper pressed.

Angela spread the sweater for a better look. “I'm not sure. It uses runes, and I know I'm new at it, but this doesn't even look like Old Norse. It's like a whole different language that just happens to use runes. But if I had to guess, they're spelling out something that made the sweater magic.”

“You gave me a magic sweater?”

They turned. Ximena walked up to them, hands in her pockets with her shoulders hunched, Nathan right behind her.

“Ximena!” Mabel shouted, leaping to her feet. “Omigosh I'm so sorry about earlier, I was just trying to give you a sweater hug!”

“Yeah, uh, do you think you could tell the magic part to Mrs. Pierce? I've kinda got a lot going on, I don't want to get in trouble again.”

“Oh, gimme a break.”

Suddenly a fist shot over Mabel's shoulder, grabbed the sweater, and yanked it out of Angela's hands.

“Hey!”

Chris dangled the sweater out of reach, grinning maliciously. “You want it? Come and get it! But no way is Mrs. Pierce gonna beweive it's weawwy magic.” He made his voice sound cutesy. “Bubble Snot just pulled a prank and is sorry she didn't get away with it.”

“Mabel's not a liar,” Nathan snapped. “And neither is Ximena, now give that back!”

They were starting to draw stares from other students. Chris saw this as encouragement. His grin widened and he waved the sweater in front of Chris' nose.

“Oooh, someone's mad I insulted his girlfriends! Quit acting like you're some big hero, you're just embarrassing yourself.”

“How 'bout I'm acting like a decent human being?” Nathan made a grab for the sweater, but Chris yanked it away.

Dipper was half-standing, hands out to placate them. “Okay, it's not magic, alright? Just give it back.”

“Yes it is,” Ximena insisted. “I didn't pull a prank!”

“I know you didn't and I'll prove it.” Nathan thrust out his hand. “Give me the sweater.”

Chris smirked. “You want to a fashion fail? Be my guest.”

He threw it at Nathan, who caught it and pulled it over his head. Mabel grabbed Dipper's jacket and squeezed, holding her breath.

Nothing happened.

After a few seconds Nathan pulled the front of his sweater over his nose and breathed in audibly, frowning. Still nothing.

“See?” Chris sneered.

“Well – well the sweater did something! Like Mabel just got some powdered whatever on it from her crafts by accident, right? Mabel, tell him!”

He turned to her, gesturing to Chris – and a fountain of live fish suddenly flung out of his sleeve and hit Chris square in the chest. He went down with a yelp, covered in flopping salmon. As soon as the fish hit the ground, though, they turned instantly into fish-shaped pastries. Chris sat in the middle of the pile, fish goo still dripping from his clothes.

For a split second everyone was so quiet Mabel could've heard a mouse flick its cute button ears. Then everyone started yelling at once.

“Did you see that, did you see?!”

“Lookit those things!”

“No way they'd all have fit in the sleeve!”

“– were actual fish a second ago, right?”

“Sweater's not even wet!”

“It is magic,” Nathan said, stunned. “I knew it, I told you it's not Ximena's fault!”

“Ohh, I wanna try!”

“Me next! Me next!”

“Hold on a second!” Mabel called out, jumping to her feet, but it was way too late. People were already crowding around the sweater, shouting and exclaiming and laughing with excitement as it was passed from person to person. She turned to her brother. “Dipper, a little help here?”

“Sweater...changes...abilities...per...user,” Dipper mumbled, scribbling in his quote-unquote “Journal” as fast as he could. She groaned.

“Just ride it out,” Angela advised. “Plus, honestly? It looks like everybody's having a blast.”

Mabel had to admit she was right. Once they got their turn with the sweater people wiggled around, trying to activate the spell.

One girl's hair started changing colors according to her mood, another boy's wristwatch turned into a tiny green garden snake that slithered up to his hair where it curled up and fell asleep. Someone else was suddenly fluent in ASL, with the sweater sleeves growing slightly longer and covering their fingers to shape each sign. There were squeals of excitement and laughter.

Mabel grinned. The sweater was a great way to cheer everybody up!

Except...

She looked around. Something still didn't seem quite right. The growing crowd? No, people were so excited about what the sweater had done for them that no one tried to grab it back; they just shared stories with anyone who'd listen. The squashed fish pastries? No, she could scoop those up for Waddles later, they wouldn't go to waste.

Wait. The squish-fish were the only things on the ground. Where was –

“MY TURN!” Chris shouted. He'd grabbed the sweater and stood in the middle of the crowd, his smile practically a snarl, flexing his fingers. Everyone immediately backed away. The laughter died instantly.

“Oooh, that's not good,” Mabel said.

His grin just got bigger. “Alright, losers, get ready to see what real power can do.”

“Wait!” Mabel shrieked.

But Michael leaned back and cocked an arm. His fingers curled into fists. Angela plunged her hand into her bag. Just as his punch arced through the air, Angela yanked out a rune and shouted.

Something exploded. Wind hit Mabel's face so hard she was knocked back into Dipper, who went crashing into the bench. Sand and grit flew through the air. Mabel scrubbed her eyes and jumped to her feet.

It looked like Chris had been standing in an invisible cylinder which contained the worst of the explosion. All the food and styrofoam trays around him had shot into the air, then rocketed back down, covering him in half-eaten turkey sandwiches, clotted tapioca pudding and Tropicola Juice packets. The people closest to him had been knocked over, too, just out of range of the falling food. Chris stood there, looking stunned, a few drops of ketchup dripping from his bangs.

“What is going on here?!”

Everyone scrambled to their feet. A supervisor hurried over, looking almost as stunned as Chris. “What was that explosion, why are you covered in condiments?! This is not a modern art exhibit!”

“Chris threw the food,” Nathan said, loudly and clearly. “Chris did it. The rest of us were clear of it. He called us losers and told us to see what 'real power' could do.”

“Is that true?”

The rest of the crowd nodded, murmuring their assents, backing away from Chris.

His face turned red. “I didn't – you – this is Mabel's fault!” he shouted.

“No it's not,” Dipper said coldly. “First, she's three yards away. Second, you're completely covered in food; if she'd thrown it at you one side of you would be clean. Third, everybody saw you do it.”

“Straight to the office, I think,” the supervisor said, her voice almost as cold as Dipper's. “I'd like a few students to come along with me and explain what happened.”

Nathan immediately volunteered, as did a couple other students. The rest of the crowd dispersed, quietly and quickly. The supervisor led the Nathan and the others away, with Chris in front, throwing poisonous looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, wait – my sweater!” Mabel cried.

Ximena cleared her throat and Mabel jumped. “Sorry. Just – look up.”

They looked. The sweater had been blown straight up with the rest of the food. It was slowly parachuting down, but as soon as Mabel saw it, one sleeve crumpled under it and it started to fall. She stepped forward and caught it.

Her brother caught the look on her face. “Mabel, c'mon, it's not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” she said in a small voice. “Fashion is supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart!”

“But you said you didn't make the tiny thread part,” Angela pointed out. “Someone else did. I think the tiny stuff made the 'wish' and 'truth' part come to life.”

Ximena looked like she'd been whacked in the face. “What, really? You're saying it – fulfilled our wishes, or something?”

“I guess?”

“That makes sense,” Dipper said thoughtfully. “I mean, Mabel was probably wishing to be warm, which explains why I didn't see her shiver while she was wearing it. I mean, that's what I'd wish for in her class. Plus, did you guys hear that kid with the snake? He kept talking about how he always wanted a little pet he could fit in his pocket.”

“It was an adorable green noodle,” Mabel admitted, feeling a little better. “And everyone was having a lot of fun with it.”

“Except Ximena,” Angela pointed out. “And Chris.”

The four of them were quiet.

Dipper shook his head. “I think we have to get rid of it, Mabel.”

“Wait,” Ximena said suddenly. “Wait, just wait.”

Dipper looked surprised. “But we can't let someone get ahold of power like that. If it hadn't been for Angela's spell, Chris could've really hurt somebody.”

“But that sweater used the wish to float off of him. It didn't do that for anybody else. It can tell the difference between good wishes and bad!”

“It almost got you in trouble, though,” Mabel said.

Ximena hesitated. “It...also kind of helped me out. I just didn't really get it until Angela said that thing about the wishes.”

“You wanted to sneeze bubbles?” Dipper asked.

“No, but – okay, my brother got this lesion on his spine, alright? They removed it but it gave him dissociated sensory loss. Like he can't tell where his body is in space. He's getting therapy for it but it's really discouraging, yesterday he up and quit. He said he hated that he couldn't even feed himself properly, he didn't want his limits thrown in his face.”

Dipper and Angela looked stricken. Mabel's eyes filled with tears.

“That's – that's awful,” she whispered.

“Yeah, but here's my point – I'd been sitting in class this morning thinking about him, I didn't even notice that I'd put on somebody else's sweater until bubbles started coming out of my nose. And then just now it hit me! My brother and I used to play bubbles all the time when we were little, we had those bubble kits and everything! If I got them out again, the bubbles would help him practice moving around, but it wouldn't be physical therapy. It'd just be us playing like we used to!”

Mabel squealed and threw both arms around Ximena. Ximena, who was not used to the power of Mabel Hugs, promptly landed on her but.

“Ximena that's so beautiful!”

“Uh – thank you? Also ow.”

“Yeah, you're pretty much stuck until she decides to let go,” Dipper told her. “She's like a koala. Also, the bubble idea sounds perfect. Let us know if we can help.”

“Yeah!” Mabel broke away and pulled Ximena to her feet. “We could have a bubble party! With bubble wands the size of our heads! And giant hamster balls so that we could pretend we were literally in the bubbles!”

“I would go to that,” Angela said immediately.

Ximena laughed. “You know, I might take you up on that when Leon's feeling better, thanks. So, the sweater?”

“KEEPING IT!” Mabel shouted.

“Yeah, okay, keeping it,” Dipper agreed. “Ximena is right, this sweater helped people. We'll save it for a rainy day. We just need to be careful about who uses it, but this thing could still come in handy.”

Mabel's face broke into a wide grin. “Excellent! I have the perfect hiding spot for it!”

“Mabel, you cannot label your craft box 'perfect hiding spot' solely to keep saying that.”

“I CAN AND I WILL!”

#monthofmaybel2019 #week 1 #sweaters #magic sweater #grants wishes #mayhem ensues

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