#anyway all this is to say................... i've got a gown. it's a little more real. i'm getting married. i'm adult. i'm woman.

[hatsukeii]

hey girllllll i’m here at ur cafe cause exams have been kicking my ass… i need a comfort drink RN !! can i get an oolong tea with pumps 19 and 20 from the sugar free menu :) ive been EYEING that customer in the corner right there.. yeah the blonde haired red eyed one— he’s called bakugou you say? fuckkk, set me up pls, sister? 😁😁

ps. good luck for ur exams hattsun! we can do this :p

hello hello:)) thank you for the wishes and good luck on your exams too!! i've got your order up! (why! would you put yourself through extra bitter tea!)

to kill a god / prohero!katsuki bakugou x reader

ingredient(s): angst<3 (you asked for it baby), pro hero katsuki x terminal patient reader, soulmates to dead idk, major death! major character death! anguish! pain! just straight up agony tbh

disclaimer(s): terminal illnes + major character death warning!! also like i think i used a hc that pro heros don't reveal their names to the public idk why, scarce use of y/n like once or twice, ending is! a little rushed but i hope it hits anyways, they are the embodiment of "are they lovers?" "no, worse" so...

wc: ~3.0k

drink profile: absolute defiance, hospital walls, luck and chance

Katsuki Bakugou, at six years old, declares that he wants to live forever. He wants to blow villains up for the rest of time, expend the nitroglycerin in his sweat glands until the world ends one day and everything is reduced to atoms. He lives out his childhood with his chest puffed out, like he cannot- no, will not die.

Even as his limbs weigh heavy on his teenage body, and he can feel himself hit concrete ground as whips of black shoot through his torso, he tells himself he is not dying. He's not fucking dying, because he has lived and fought like a god.

By the time he graduates from UA, Katsuki is certain that he has to, one day, meet his end. He pretends like he can live forever anyways.

When Katsuki meets you for the first time, it is in a hospital courtyard on a sweltering July afternoon. Hours of greeting and running around with children finds him sitting on a bench, away from the commotion that is contained within the hospital white walls of the pediatric sectors. His skin boils beneath his suit, and he tries to wipe his sweat-slicked forehead with a gloved hand. From beside him, a paper towel appears beneath his nose, slipped between an index and middle finger. Katsuki stares at your palm, eyes travelling to the IV drip inserted into your wrist. When he looks up, he isn't sure how you've gone unnoticed for so long, with your IV pole by your side, donned in a sterile blue hospital gown. You look not a day over twenty.

"Dynamight." Your voice comes out as more of a croak than a youthful chirp.

The towel is swiped into Katsuki's hands swiftly, before he pats at his forehead. "Yes?"

"Are you afraid of dying?"

He scoffs, slipping the dampened towel into his pocket. How absurd. Dynamight? Afraid of dying? Do you think he fights because he's scared of dying? Turning to you, Katsuki comes to realise that you might be dead serious, dull eyes boring into his skull. He could see nothing behind them. The IV drips, and drips, and drips. You stare. He isn't sure what to tell you.

"Hell no. But I don't wanna die." He leans into the hardwood bench, spreads his legs a little further apart. He doesn't know that he's lying, even when his stomach stirs and the wooden bench begins to cool, and coarsen into concrete ground and blood. He should look away before it all feels too real again, but you're looking at him like a child, twenty years too old, searching for answers in the face of what power means in this world. Katsuki hates it.

"Of course not. You're a hero after all. All the power in the world."

You stand, and leave him sitting there alone. That night, pro hero Dynamight waits for backup at a villain sighting for the first time.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Katsuki Bakugou promises to give you a taste of power when he meets you a second time at the same hospital, the next week.

He's not sure how his patrol shift has brought him here again, but he never got to stand up for himself. It's not his fault he's a hero, not his fault that he enjoys power in the spark of his palms, or that he isn't afraid of dying because he's clawed his way out of it so many times. But he knows what it's like, he says, standing by your bed. Knows what it's like to never die, even when everything is pushing him to. That's power, he tells you, absolute defiance. And you're sitting in a hospital bed surrounded by two palliative care workers who have to shoot you up with anaesthetics every four hours. So he leans down close, so close that he can sense the wariness coming from your stony eyes, see the hairs on your skin stand helplessly, and he frowns.

"D'you think you're weak?" His question is uttered to a husk of a human, who needs the wall to keep them upright. You wince painfully in response, unsure of what he wants to hear from your chapped lips. One of the workers doses you with anaesthesia, and you pinch your eyes shut. It still hurts, even after all this time.

"I'm just waiting to die, call that what you want. Weak, sure." You swallow at the thought, because you're fucking terrified. Katsuki takes it that you are scared of him.

"You're just fuckin'... waiting to die?" Vermillion eyes squint in disbelief, and you swallow again, this time at his question instead. He hates spineless quitters. He hates them more than he can imagine. Some part buried deep inside him wants to refuse death on your behalf, because he detests nothing more than the notion of going out helplessly, bound at the mercy of a hospital bed and anaesthesia. There has to be someone out ther with a quirk that can save you, and Katsuki isn't sure why but he's hellbent on finding them. Call it civil service. A hero's duty to save.

"If you're going to come here, Dynamight, at least make this easier for me, and don't act like I asked for it."

Right, Dynamight. That's what people call him, and you are no different, so he's not sure why he expected otherwise. When one of the two palliative workers approaches you with a syringe, Katsuki doesn't think he can bear the sight of another dose of chemicals worming its way into your veins. You're just another chickenshit defeatist, poisoning themselves in a hospital room.

He turns on his heels, and leaves while you hiss in pain.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

No one at the hospital is quite sure of what is going on between pro hero Dynamight, and a terminal patient. They watch him return, week after week, sometimes consecutive days in a row. When he steps through the automatic doors, he shoots every single worker that passes by him a curt nod, then hikes up the stairs to room 203. The only people in the room would be two palliative care workers and yourself, and the rest of the hospital staff is sure he's brokered a deal with the two workers to never let a single word out of 203.

Nobody else ever enters 203 while Dynamight is here.

But everybody talks.

They make rumours, pick up on singular words through the sliding door, then say he's grown weak. Soft. Pro hero Dynamight, no longer the first at the scene of a crime. Pro hero Dynamight, falling back from combat on live television. Pro hero Dynamight, visiting a terminal patient, day after day. He must have too much free time on his hands. Maybe he's had enough of hero work. Maybe he's gone mad.

What they conveniently fail to understand, outside the barrier of 203's white door, is that Katsuki Bakugou doesn't know what is going on between himself, and you either. He comes back every day not because he particularly wants to, but because he can't help himself not to. He finds you again, and again, and again, just to listen to you talk about hospital food, or how you've just watched him back down on live television, scrutinised by millions of watchful eyes.

Then, Katsuki asks you how long you have left, to which your answer is always decreasing. A year the first few times, then halved, and by this visit, his seventeenth, you tell him, "three months."

"That's a quarter of what you had five weeks ago."

"Tough luck." You stare at the IV drip in your wrist, watch the liquid seep into your veins through the thin tube.

He wants to promise that he can help you, even though it holds no power. He is not a doctor. Everyone else in this hospital is. But Katsuki Bakugou has almost died about a hundred times, and still he lives, so he thinks he must know something that they don't. Absolute defiance.

"Nothing is luck." He sits on the bedside stool, grinding his foot into the squeaky hospital floor. "It's all a wretched fight."

"Yeah, for you it can be." You laugh dryly, wiggling your wrist and watching as the IV tube sticks up in odd angles. "But luck's all everyone else has got."

A pigeon smashes into the glass window, and drops to the balcony floor outside in a flurry of feathers. One of the palliative care workers leaves to pick the mound of grey from the floor. Katsuki looks away when the other one shoots you up with another dose of anaesthesia. Something hums in the air, inescapable, like the time he woke up in a hospital bound in bandages, circulating oxygen from a new, pumping heart. His hands spark, and for once, he wonders if he just got lucky.

"Let me touch your sparks."

You finally speak again, a hand stretching out weakly to point at the crackles and pops of Katsuki's palm. Gingerly, he extends his gloved palm towards you, careful not to touch the equipment that surrounds your bed. When you take his hand in yours, something twists in his chest, and sparks thud at his suited torso instead. They're weak enough to do little damage, yet as he tries to ignite sparks again, they misfire a second time, scorching the dead pigeon pinched between the palliative care worker's fingers. Katsuki Bakugou has never been afraid before, but he jerks his hand away from you, yanking onto the IV drip and rattling the pole that wobbles at the force. He may as well be quirkless in your wake. Powerless.

"What the fuck was that?"

You shrug. You've always wanted to be a hero, watching their escapades from your bedridden world. You just got unlucky.

"Luck. That's luck. I wanted to become a hero with it."

You would have been a great hero, Katsuki thinks. You should have been a great hero.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Katsuki Bakugou doesn't realise that he has never called you by name until his twenty-third visit. He sits by your bed, gives you his hand, lets you do as you please with soft sparks that tickle and prick at your skin, as he has for the past four visits. He's figured that you would smile when they redirect to the spot just between the two of you, like fireworks that stutter and pop into flowers. Some part of him hates to admit it, but he's enjoying this much more than blowing villains up.

"You're getting better. That's the third in a row in the right place."

"All luck."

He swallows thickly, because he hasn't asked the question yet. How could he, when he's giving you exactly what he promised- power? He floats images in his head: IV drips, surgery, growing tumour, operation room, flatlines. They cover your body in a shroud of inevitable dread, and Katsuki would blow them apart if he could. But he's given you his quirk, and you're making fireworks with it.

"Are you scared? Of dying?" The fourth spark hits a mug on a desk across the room. It jolts off, and shatters on the ground. You shrink into the bed, pulling his hand into your chest, and his gut drops. There's a sort of bitter taste that worms into his mouth, but he lets his hand lie flat against your sternum when you push it closer to yourself, and it dissipates. Your chest rises, heavy and slow, like every breath is laboured. When you look up at Katsuki, he isn't angry. His cheeks are rounded, soft eyes watching your fingers around his hand, lips slightly pushed apart by his sudden question. It occurs to you that he might be asking more than just yourself that.

"What does it matter to me?"

"Should I be?"

He stares back at you, and you freeze. Pro hero Dynamight faces death head on every day like it's nothing, but some sick part of you wants him to be afraid too. It will take three weeks to catch you, maybe a few more decades until it chases his tail, but death finds everyone eventually, and that should be terrifying.

"You can choose. Do you want to be scared?"

He should defy this, just like he has so many times before. Dynamight has a fake heart, fake name, fake recklessness, it's all fucking bravado. Katsuki's been tasting blood in his mouth every night since his old heart stopped pumping at sixteen years old, his bed is bloodstained concrete ground when he wakes up in a cold sweat. He can choose, but can you do the same? And even if he did not have to choose, if he could be immortal, would he still pick a side? What good is being a god, if he can only live to watch death take you from above? 

Your hair covers your face, your fingers ghost across his gloved ones, and he swallows the question of how long you really have left. 

"What's your name?"

"Y/n."

He holds his breath, letting it out only to utter, "Katsuki." You hold his hand a little tighter in yours.

"I wouldn't be scared if I knew I could move on from this." 

"Don't use me to make your choice. You have to move on from this. And you have to be okay with that."

At thirteen years old, Katsuki Bakugou is publicly asphyxiated for approximately one minute and twenty seconds, until Izuku Midoriya arrives on the scene, trying to wrench him out. At sixteen years old, he is pronounced dead in battle, until Edgeshot turns himself into his new heart. It has never been about defiance, and always about people being in the right place, at the right time. His life has been dangling from the promise of luck since the day he was born with a quirk that lets him pretend to be a god. So no, maybe he shouldn’t let somebody else make this choice for him.

"But I'm still scared, y/n. I'm still so fucking scared."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Pro hero Dynamight breaks down on live television one week later, following a close call with a criminal syndicate. Millions of eyes glue to their home televisions, watching him scream profanities into a Juko News microphone outside a hospital. Parents cover their children's ears, angry commentators press backspace on their "dy-no might" comments, 6pm rush hour stops to stare at angry Shibuya billboards, but nobody changes the broadcast.

"You motherfuckers have no idea how fucking lucky you are to be alive! When have you ever, ever! Had to count your fucking days?" Spit shoots from Dynamight's mouth, and they think he's deranged, unhinged. He stands in front of the hospital- your hospital, and forces the retreating cameraman to redirect the lenses at his angry spew.

"Gone soft, weak, no might, quit the shit!" He points at the hospital behind him, right at the window of room 203. If you aren't hearing him from your bed, Katsuki is ready to grab the microphone, and yell it from the balcony for everyone to hear.

"You will never understand what it's like waking up to fucking hospital white day by day. I have seen it, people in there have seen it." He jabs a finger at the camera accusingly. "If you want heroes to die fighting so badly, I suggest that you fuckers try it for yourself."

Turning to 203, Katsuki stops for a moment. Reporters snap photos behind each other, yet nobody says a word. Have you made him soft? Made him weak? Have you killed Dynamight? When he remembers the fireworks between your noses, and the choice he's made for himself, he thinks the opposite.

"I will not apologise for wanting to live. I will not apologise for trying to live. And I will not fucking apologise for being scared of dying. Not when I get to wake up, and choose to be scared."

Katsuki throws the microphone to the ground, and stomps on it, storming into the hospital. Comments flood the broadcast. Coward. Fake. Spineless. Ungrateful. His PR team scrambles to get the footage deleted.

He hikes into 203. To hell with the news outlets, and the reporters, and the spineless keyboard warriors, because he's watching you take your dying breath if that's what it takes for him to move on from you. He slides open the door, and you're bedridden, breathing through an oxygen mask. You smile at him like you've saved him from something you don't know. He smiles back, because you have.

"I'll only move on when you do."

"Two weeks, Katsuki."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When pro hero Dynamight arrives at the hospital again, nine hours have gone by since his public meltdown. He returns to rubble, and dust, and a dozen rescue heros scrambling on their feet at 3am. They say that there's been a gas explosion, that the past few maintainence checks have failed to detect litres of propane seeping into every crevice of the institution, all while flipping through piles of concrete for signs of life. They tell him that more heroes will be here soon, and that he should focus on breaking open larger pieces of debris. As he sends explosion after explosion into deconstructed hospital walls, Katsuki wishes he could pretend to care about the mangled corpses crushed beneath what once was a hospital. He doesn't.

People all look the same when their heads are crushed between asphalt and concrete. Hundreds of IV drips are littered around the wreckage. It has been one hour, and even with backup, they have only found seven survivors. Dynamight cannot save people here, all he can do is blow rubble to bits, hoping to find beneath it one more person whose lungs haven't been crushed already. He is no hero. He couldn't even save one person.

Three hours of searching concludes with twenty-two survivors, all hauled into helicopters and stretchers, and flown away to someplace Katsuki doesn't care to know. Rescue heroes never confirm the death count, and can only give an estiamte of approximately three hundred fatalities, and twenty-two casualties. They never find your body.

Katsuki stands on broken rubble, and he thinks he has been killed again, two weeks too soon, all in the name of misfortune. Tough luck. He swallows his pride, because in the face of death, absolute defiance has never been his vice. As he gapes at this massacre of pure chance, his gloved hands can barely form sparks. How did you ever turn them into fireworks?

barista's note:

hi do you guys still love me<3 double pump of sugar free you were ASKING FOR ITTTTTTTT i do apologise i rushed the ending because i have more requests and i want to get through them but i am physically! incapable of like multitasking on writing like i have to finish one to start one or nothing comes out i fear... i hope the ending hit the vibes right anyways though because idk what i was thinking while writing this i think i was kinda just vomiting onto the page whatever felt right LMFAOOAO

tags: @catsoupki @laughingfcx @wishi-selfships @fiannee @chuuya-brainrot @zzwon @akaakeis @hiraethwa @bakery-anon @wyrcan @bailey-reeds @hiraethwrote @kuroppiii @kongkhoi @staraxiaa

[mysewingadventures]

Making the ✨Lioncourt Gown✨ (Part 1/4)

Shoot, it's been like two years since I last posted, apologies! I’ve been incredibly busy with uni and life in general, taking care of my mental health, it’s just been a very stressful time lately. I haven't really worked on anything worthy of posting in the meantime, only minor things and one dress I rushed and it didn't turn out well anyway. But, since Halloween is coming up and I don’t feel like wearing the same thing for the third time in a row, I thought it was the perfect excuse to try and make something new and the other day at 2am I fell down a rabbit hole and came up with an idea I’m completely obsessed with.

So recently, (in case you couldn't tell by the title haha) I’ve been really into Interview with the Vampire (the TV show), and there’s this one costume that’s so iconic it immediately caught my attention: This Lestat outfit.

I feel like since this blog isn't fandom related I need to explain myself to those of you who are just semi-familiar with IWTV. Maybe you know Lestat as essentially the villain of the story and are wondering why on earth I'd want to make an outfit inspired by him. The answer is quite simple and not actually deep at all: I just thought it'd be a fun project. I'm very well aware of his personality and would not want to be in the same room as him in real life haha. But he's such an interesting character to watch on screen (they all are, in my opinion). Anyways-

This outfit is from a scene that takes place in the 1790s and now, I’m unfortunately not too versed in men’s fashion so I can’t quite comment on its historical accuracy (and also it’s worn in the context of a theater performance so it’s bound to be more flashy than what people would have worn on the streets), but the way the lapel is shaped just screams redingote to me, and since I've always wanted to make a redingote I'm going to make a redingote version of the costume!

For reference, here's what a c. 1790 redingote looks like:

This one has a normal button closure but redingotes were also often double-breasted (which is what I'm going for), taking inspiration from men's fashion. These were often worn to ride in - hence the name, redingote - riding coat.

Maybe this is the point where I should mention that I'm not going for perfect historical accuracy for this project. It really is just a fun project to try to approximate something as seen on a show to an actual historical piece of clothing.

Here’s a super quick sketch I drew to check if the colors looked good together, and I have to say, I’m sold 1000%.

I am so excited to wear this when it’s done, but also a bit anxious because for starters, I’ve never made a redingote before, and the dresses that I have made all have issues with the sleeves because apparently, I can’t sew sleeves correctly. So this time, I really want to make sure it all fits properly before I sew it and take my time with it to make sure it ends up being something that I love as much as I love the idea of it.

This time, I tried something a little different with my mockup - usually, I’ll draft a pattern on paper, then cut out my mockup and sew it, but this time I decided to make the mockup by draping the fabric directly on the mannequin that I dressed in my stays and a bumroll, making sure I had the correct measurments, and it was a complete gamechanger. It fit right away with minimal adjustments, and I was also immediately able to check how the fabric falls, if it needed to be on the bias or not, etc. I ended up doing everything on straight grain which is technically not 100% correct as the front piece needs to be on a slight bias but it seems to work for this piece so let’s hope the fabric doesn’t wrinkle! I’ll also be adding boning so I’m hoping that’ll additionally keep it all straight and even in the front.

Once the mockup was completed, I went on the search for the right fabrics and got these (the skirt fabric, the buttons and the tape I ordered online and they've yet to arrive!):

The black base fabric and the blue one are cotton, as will be the skirt. The details are satin! I spent a long time at the fabric store trying to think of the best way to do this and it does look like the details on Lestat's outfit are maybe velvet, but I was afraid it would look a little too costume-y and cheap, so I ended up going with satin in the end.

I pinned the fabric mock-up onto the lining fabric (just a white Ikea bedsheet), added 1,5cm seam allowances where needed cut out the lining first, then placed the lining onto the black base fabric and cut that out as well.

I needed to lay the pieces down this way because I bought 2,5 meters, and I'll need 2m for the outer skirt alone so there's not a lot of space left, as I'll also have to cut out the sleeves from that fabric. I then sewed everything together.

And then I noticed I'd made a mistake - the lining for the front panel was supposed to be blue. Welp, now it's white, and I also realized I didn't have enough blue fabric to do the collar AND the lining, so I went for a fake lining for which I cut out two blue triangles to be slightly bigger than the lapel

and stitched them to the lining layer so the seams wouldn't be visible on the black outer layer. This was the result:

Pretty happy with it! Next up, even though I don't have the beige tape yet, I decided to cut out the color panels in the front and already pin them down. After some trial and error, I decided to go for 15x4,5cm triangles and calculated the size needed for the shorter ones (9x7,5cm), cut them out of the satin (which, let me tell you, was so finicky it ended up being the most difficult part of it all) laid them down and fastened with pins.

This is what I have so far:

Looking at it in the picture, I'm worried that the color panels take up too much space in the front. It looks like that in the original picture, but in my sketch I made everything a little narrower. But I was also scared of pulling on it too much because the panels are just pinned to the fabric. Some parts are sticking out over the black base layer which maybe also makes it look wider than it really is, I'll cut it to shape once I have the tape and have a better visual understanding of what it's going to look like.

Next up will be the collar/yoke and the dreaded sleeves and possibly the boning. I should do the boning before I attach the beige tape. I am realizing as I’m writing this that I should’ve done the boning before pinning down the colored panels as they’re supposed to cover it. Oh well. It’s fine. Either way, I think it already looks super cool and I can't wait to see the finished product!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4|

[9leaguesofmirrors]

The Favour (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

What if Pauline refused to help Ross in season 3 episode 1 and she left before that very scarring scene ever happened? In this version, he decides to call in the help of an old acquaintance

This one is a little more ✨spicy✨ than my other fics, but it's just fade-to-black, I'm not quite brave enough to write actual smut

I love how well these GIFs go together, like Ross just made a smug comment and Lisgoe's sick of his crap 😆

**********************************************

"I've come here on my fucking time off, so this better be important."

Ross couldn't remember when he started being on speaking terms with Joseph Nigel Lisgoe, but it happened. They weren't friends, but they also weren't exactly enemies. Well, Ross thought Lisgoe was a sadistic cretin who used violence to make up for his lack of brain cells, and Lisgoe thought Ross was an arrogant bastard with no concernable personality. Other than that, they didn't hate each other

Hence why Ross didn't see an issue with enlisting his help. Since he didn't have his number, he had to track down and slip a note under his office door that read I need your help, we'll discuss at my house followed by his address

Which is how he got here, face-to-face with a very unhappy Lisgoe at his front door

"Make yourself at home."

Ignoring this statement (which he could tell was merely being said out of politeness), Lisgoe all but barged past and leaned against a counter in the kitchen

"Your house reminds me of you: dead on the inside."

"I didn't invite you here to insult me."

"Couldn't you at least have gotten dressed? You look like a right twat in that dressing gown."

"I think," Ross said as he went to the cupboard and poured them both a glass of wine "that we should focus on the real reason I asked you here."

Lisgoe curled his upper lip slightly, as if he would rather have been anywhere else at this point, but took the glass anyway. He took a sip, watching Ross closely

"You gonna tell me or am I supposed to guess?"

"Someone I hired for an undercover job has decided to go against me."

"Fucking hell, OK James Bond!"

This was met with a glare, not that Lisgoe seemed to be all that bothered. In fact, he has a shit-eating grin on his face that suggested he found this whole thing funny

"I don't know why you're laughing."

"You're so far up your own arse, no wonder you talk a load of shite!"

"I'm going to ignore that. All I'm asking is for you to get rid of her, I'm sure that won't be too taxing on you, what with the very little brain power you possess."

"I'm not a contract killer." Lisgoe put his glass down on the counter "I may be a crazy bastard, but I'm not some assassin."

"You're the only one with enough of a craving for violence and lack of empathy to do it."

There was a pause. Lisgoe took another swig of wine

He'd never admit it out loud, but it was refreshing to have someone challenge him. As much as he liked being the one everyone feared, there was something about Ross' lack of fear that both frustrated him and kept him oddly entertained

"What's in it for me?"

Ross considered his answer, but his thoughts were somewhat hazy, clearly more interested in why Lisgoe was staring at him. He was completely unreadable, which was off-putting to say the least. And yet it, for some reason, made him feel more drawn to him. He wanted to know what it would take to make him snap - what he would do when he did

"Who says you're getting anything?"

"I'm not doing this shite for free." Lisgoe sneered, taking a step towards him "It comes with a price."

They weren't incredibly close, but it was enough for Ross to briefly catch his scent. Sharp, spicy cologne which seemed to fuse with the underlying leftovers of cigarette smoke. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if he'd smoked before he came here; he could see it now, Joseph Lisgoe outside the door with a cigarette in his mouth... sucking it gently... his eyes closing as the smoke fell from his lips

Ross put an end to that thought immediately

"I could tip off the police to the rumours going around Royston Vasey about your violent tendancies, I'd say guess how many years you'd get," he put a hand on Lisgoe's shoulder and looked at him with pure mockery in his eyes "but I'd hate for you to hurt your head."

"You'd tell the police, would you?" Lisgoe retorted in a soft voice that made it sound more like a dare than a question

"What if I did?"

Despite not being the most intellectual of people, Lisgoe could read emotions on their faces and bodies easily. It's what he used to get under people's skin before he inevitably threw a punch. There was a stillness in Ross' body language that told him he was telling the truth - he respected that, in a way. Another thing he caught onto was Ross' eyes. They seemed to drag their way up and down his frame, meeting his eyes with a subtle, sharp intake of breath. He was being looked at in a way that was rare for him, yet something in him was very satisfied that it was directed to him alone

But there was something else. Something of a spark in his eyes, something that said I'm onto you

He wasn't about to give him the upper hand

"I don't ask for much." His voice was softer, slightly rough "But, if you need me as badly as you clearly fucking do, then you'll have to convince me."

"That depends on two factors: what you want, and how you want me to convince you?" Ross chewed his lower lip, an action that caused Lisgoe's jaw to tighten

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Satisfied with the edge he'd taken from him, Ross put down his glass. As he did, he made sure to let his hand brush against Lisgoe's, relishing in the way he jolted away

"There's a grand history of people who, daggers drawn, eventually find each other attractive." He said innocently, tilting his head to the side slightly as he stared into dusty blue eyes "What do you think, Joseph?"

Nobody called him Joseph

It's was Lisgoe or, if you worked for him, Mr. Lisgoe. A silent agreement among the inhabitants of Royston Vasey. He didn't know what was worse: the fact Ross had the balls to break that rule, or the fact it sounded so nice in his voice

"I think you need to remember who you're talking to. You might get away with saying what you like to the thick pigs at the dole house, but I'm not that easily fucked with."

The venom in Lisgoe's voice shouldn't have affected Ross the way it did. He wasn't scared, but it pierced through his chest and pumped molten fire through his body

"I assume," He put his hand deliberately over the man's wrist, his voice steady "you know what you want in return for all of this?"

Lisgoe took a step forward and stared. It was like he was considering not the offer, but him. Finally, he spoke again:

"Anywhere between 10,000 and 20,000 is great."

"Excuse me?" Was Ross' response, trying not to look too disappointed as Lisgoe pulled away "You expect me to pay you that amount for one simple task?"

"You're not asking me to have a little chat, are you? You want me to get rid of a bitch, and the fact you contacted me means you want it to hurt."

"You're hardly worth the oxygen I breathe, let alone £10-20,000."

"You've got a set of balls, haven't you?"

"I want you to leave."

"Now hold your fucking horses, I'm not done!"

He moved over to the address book on the table and opened it, slightly surprised by how empty it was. Surely this guy knew more people than WORK and MOTHER

"So, is your dad an asshole? Or is he dead?"

"What are you doing?" Ross asked, clearly not appreciating the question

"You got a pen?"

"Don't pretend you can write."

"Fuck off and get me a pen! Wait, shut up..."

"I didn't say-"

"Here's one."

Lisgoe had taken a pen from inside his suit jacket and scrawled something onto the page. Upon inspection, Ross noticed it was a phone number with the initials JNL next to it

"As a debt collector, I never like doing favours without getting something in return."

"And what exactly do you have in mind? If it's more money, I'm out."

"You doing anything tonight?"

Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn't one of them. Regardless, he shook his head neutrally

"I'll be back in an hour." Lisgoe put the pen down on the table "For the love of shite, get dressed."

"What's the occasion?" Ross sneered in response

"The occasion is, when I get back, I'm doing whatever the fuck I want with you."

Ross' chest caved in. He couldn't think of the worse reason: actual fear or... OK, maybe the second option. Either way, he was trying not to show it on his face

"What exactly are you implying?"

That made Lisgoe laugh a little. Ross went to question him, but was quickly silenced by being tugged by his dressing gown into a searing kiss. It was forceful, not that it came as a surprise - this was Lisgoe, after all. And Ross certainly wasn't complaining. Especially not when his lower lip was being pulled between Lisgoe's teeth

"Unless you have another stupid question, I'll see you later today"

Before he could turn and go, Ross had grabbed him by the wrist

"You said earlier that a debt collector always gets something in return, would you also say they'd rather get it in a timely manner?"

"I don't remember what I said, but sure. What's your point?"

"There's clearly something between us. A certain... heat-"

"Alright, Ozzy Wilde."

"Oscar Wilde, but that's beside the point. What I'm saying is what's the point in waiting for it to cool down?" In a moment of boldness, Ross reached for Lisgoe's jacket. Without breaking eye contact for more than a second, he unbuttoned it slowly "Unless you're too scared to-"

Once again, his words were cut short and Lisgoe's mouth was on his. It was frantic and raw, neither one of them was interested in being gentle. Ross' hands were warm, Lisgoe's skin was cold, which came together to form what could only be described as electricity. Without breaking the kiss, Lisgoe was being pushed against the kitchen counter and, well, Ross was dropping to his knees to return a favour

*********************************************

"So, what's the bitch's name again?" Lisgoe asked as he threaded his belt through the loops of his trousers

"Pauline Campbell-Jones," Ross sat down on his sofa "she's completely egregious. She's violent, foul-tempered and vulgar."

"Right, I suppose you only find those traits sexy in men."

"Let's make this clear, I only did that to pay you back."

Lisgoe didn't know why he got the urge to ask, but he sat down beside Ross and looked at him with slightly furrowed brows

"Do you fuck everyone that you ask to favours?"

"No."

"So I'm a special case?"

Ross looked Lisgoe up and down contemplatively, then replied "Yes."

"Can you say anything else? One-word responses piss me off."

There was another silence. Ross stared at the wall, thinking things through. OK yes, maybe part of the reason was to get Lisgoe on board with his plan, but did he enjoy it? Maybe he did. So what? Since when did sex mean anything? That being said, even with all that aside, Lisgoe wasn't completely insufferable to be around. In fact, he was one of the few inhabitants of Royston Vasey that he could see as being something of an equal to him

"We don't have to be strangers, I suppose. You did give me your number for some reason."

"Ignore it then," Lisgoe shrugged as he got up "I just gave it to you so I could tell when I was done with her."

Then there was an odd moment of pause

Ross stood up and they were facing each other. It was awkward and tense, but not altogether unpleasant. Just strange. Almost as if neither of them were in a rush for it to be over

Suddenly, Lisgoe snapped out of it and headed for the front door. Ross went to let him out. It was all very formulaic, as if nothing happened between them. And surely, that's all it was

Nothing at all

Once he'd gone, Ross went back into the kitchen area and looked at the number written into his book. Then he saw it

Lisgoe had left his pen behind

If he hurried, he could probably catch up and give it to him. Or he could wait for him to realise and come back for it

Ah well, what's the rush?

[airasora]

Disney princess casual outfits from best to worst IMO

@lovestrucklyuniverse asked me what my favorite and least favorite Disney casual outfits were since I made a tier list on which fancy dresses! So once again I've made both a tier template, which you can try yourself HERE, and also did an actual list from favorite to least.

Moana

You guys may remember that I'm one of the people who were PISSED when Disney Dreamlight Valley changed the color scheme for the Moana 10 level friendship dress... and I am STILL MAD. I LOVE HER COLOR SCHEME. Honestly I love her ending outfit too, I forgot to add it to my Disney princess gowns tier (oops) but overall I've always had an affinity for Polynesian-Hawaiian fashion. I love all the details without it being overwhelming, and that necklace is gorgeous too.

Anna

I know that TECHNICALLY Anna's real "casual outfit" is actually just her fancy gown, but with sleeves and a cape - or at least it's very similar, so for me that meant I might as well do this dress instead. Could I have gone into Frozen 2? Sure, but I didn't want to do that because then I would have to consider ALL Anne and Elsa's outfits and that'd take forever. If I were gonna do that, I'd rather do a list of ONLY Frozen outfits or something xD Anyway, I think this dress is HELLA cute! A real nice spring dress, with some cute nature details at the bottom along with a "corset" and long sleeves. I like that while it's overall green, there are some pink accents and it has multiple shades of green so it doesn't feel too simple.

Rapunzel

I already mentioned this in the gown version of this tier list, but I am overall a fan of all of Rapunzel's outfits. I would have LOVED to see her green concept art dress though, holy crap. I hope there's a cosplayer out there who has made that dress cause I want to see it irl SO BAD xD Anyway, the dress we got is cute! Different shades of pink and purple, SMALL puff sleeves and loads of small details along with lace. I'm a lace girl, love lace, will never say no to lace. Probably.

Mulan

Now see THIS is a much better outfit for Mulan! Which is interesting cause it has a similar color scheme to her fancy hanfu, dark blue, dark red, grayish white and a pinkish red as well. So... why does this look WAY better to me??? I don't know. It just does. Perhaps I'll try to do a color swap of these two and see if I can make myself like Mulan's fancy hanfu more that way xD

Ariel

This dress is so stinking cute and the bigass bow in Ariel's hair is hilariously oversized, but in the best way xD I like that it's blue, but three different shades so it - like I've mentioned earlier with Anna's dress - isn't just one solid color. It is just a tiiiiiny bit too simple for my liking though, which is why it isn't higher on my list.

Belle

Not gonna lie, I heavily prefer Belle's peasant dress to her fancy, gold gown. It's simply color-wise, but the color switch around enough for it to not feel like one solid block of color. White shirt with poofy sleeves and a collar, blue dress with thick straps and a white petticoat along with a white apron. No cute little details or anything like that, but it doesn't feel that boring despite only being two colors. Also, her hairstyle is super cute.

Kida

I actually like like Kida's outfit just fine. It's nothing fantastic though and I think it's a little bit safe. Atlantians are, from what I know, a fictional group of people and culture, right? Why not experiment a bit more? Make her wear something that stands out! Instead it's just something I can imagine seeing a random white girl wear at the beach. It's not bad, but it's one of my many issues with the visuals of the Atlantis movie.

Jasmine

I like Jasmine's outfit fine. But it's all the same shade of blue and has NO details whatsoever. Yes, the "belt" of her pants is a lighter shade, but not by much. If it had a bit more decoration on it, I would like it a lot more. And I don't like those earrings. They've confused me since I was a child. How high up are her earlobes supposed to be exactly??? I don't know about you guys, but my earlobes are parallel to just below my cheek bones. On Jasmine, based on the earrings, it looks like her earlobes are parallel to the lower part of her eye which is just VERY high up, isn't it??? Either way, a fairly simply outfit that I think only really works cause Jasmine's own beauty carries it all.

Elsa

Eh... this dress should be right up my alley. I love cyan and teal shades, it has long sleeves, there's purple there, there's some cute details without them being overwhelming. On paper, I should love or at least like this dress and I just... don't. I really can't explain why, it just doesn't do anything for me. My only guess would be that it's tight. It looks limiting. Which is kinda the idea given what Elsa is going through at this point in the movie, so I like it for her, but personally it just doesn't work for me.

Merida

Again. Dark teal/cyan, but with Merida's dress I can easily explain why I dislike it: IT'S SO FUCKING BORING. It's one solid color all the way through and then it has those small frilly thingies on her wrists and upper body and I despise frills. Hate them. Reminds me of whipped cream and I hate whipped cream too xD And the frills being fucking beige doesn't help xD

Aurora

Boring peasant gown is boring, but I love that corset! But there's too much... beige, gray and just... I like color, okay? Or at least just not "neutral" colors like this. I might honestly have liked it more if it had dark, warm, earthy color instead. I am anti-beige xD Also never been a fan of this type of collar. It's giving school uniform and it makes me feel two types of ways and neither are what I should be feeling looking at a Disney movie xD

Tiana

This shade of yellow is one of the ONLY shades of yellow I actually like, otherwise I am just not a fan of yellow, usually. I do think it suits Tiana very well, but outside of that it's just very plain. I like the silhouette, sorta, but that's about it.

Pocahontas

Again, not a fan of neutral beige'ish colors. And what pisses me off is that if you google Native American fashion, there are SO MANY gorgeous examples. Once again, I get that animators might not want to put a bunch of details on an outfit of the main character, but goddammit, why does it have to be THIS boring??? Thankfully the necklace is there, but the dress on its own is just really boring.

Cinderella

Do I even have to explain this one? Disney has made plenty of cute "housemaid" outfits (Nanny from 101 Dalmatians, Mrs. Jenkins from Pocahontas 2) and this is just not one of them. But considering that one of the reasons Cinderella is wearing such a plain outfit is to make her ballgown that much more amazing, and that I find that to be one of the most boring Disney ballgowns, this outfit doesn't work for me.

Snow White

I mean, come on. It's supposed to be ugly and they succeeded. Can't really hate it for doing its job xD

Check out my tier list for Disney princess gowns here!

[corditequill]

Commentary: The Buried Moon, Part 1 Chapter 7/6

Note: There are spoilers here for Chapter 7 (AO3)/6 (FFnet) of the Buried Moon. If you care about that, I'd recommend reading the chapter first.

Chapter 7 (on AO3, Chapter 6 on FF.net because I hate myself, I guess) turned into a beast of a chapter. A lot happens in it. Sarah must once again face what she once was, that nearly-sixteen-year-old version of herself that ran the Labyrinth. Why? Because she talks with her old friends and sees the dresses in the wardrobe. The former was a big scene, reminiscent to that time we all meet childhood friends we have not spoken to in a very long time (Sarah is lucky, hers are magical creatures that ultimately only want what is best for her). The latter was a big scene for Sarah, because she had to ask herself, "What do I want to project at this dinner? And how is that different from the peach dream?" Because, like it or not, that ballroom dream changed her.

But Sarah is older and wiser now, and I wanted her dress to reflect that. She's not that Sarah anymore. A part of me wanted to put her in a 1980s-twist-ballroom-gown, but not for this chapter. No, Sarah needed something more understated, modern, and yet definitely something that would catch the eye of a Goblin King.

And lo and behold, I saw this on Jennifer Connolly:

This is a Louis Vuitton that she wore to the Cannes Film Festival. I tweaked it a little for the story (making it a little shorter to show off some nice footwear), but I thought it was perfect. Silver to mimic the silver-and-white of her ballroom gown, and yet with a very "grown-up" silhouette.

In my mind, of course, the makeup and hairstyle are more dramatic. After all, it's Jareth's magic allowing it to happen. My inspiration was this:

Add a dramatic, smoky purple eye shadow look (something I'd never be able to do in real life) and you've basically got the picture I had in my head.

I am worried I went a little overboard on describing dresses in that scene, but I hope readers will indulge me. I rarely get to write a dress-up scene and they can be such fun.

Later, as Sarah walks into the throne room only to see Jareth surrounded by goblins, chickens, and all manner of creatures. As I described him, I took the pose from Bo-Katan (Katee Sackhoff) on the throne.

There's something about the casual, blasé pose that just would work with the Goblin King. I've seen it jokingly referred to as "slutty throne sitting" and I can just see Jareth doing that.

Anyway, with those references out of the way, let's go back for a moment to when Sarah was in the garden talking to her friends. She sees a fountain with an "oil slick" on it. Anyone realize what all that was about (I write this having just posted the story)? I say that like it isn't probably really obvious, ha. I wonder what would have happened if Sarah had touched it...

Thanks for reading my little commentary here. I don't know if I'll do it with every chapter, but this one in particular had a lot of reference pics on my Trello (I use it for outlining my stories), and I wanted to share them.

Unfortunately, it took me much longer than I wanted to get this chapter out. It's been essentially done for months, but then I tweaked it, and then I questioned myself and tweaked it some more. And then life slapped me in the face and I moved internationally. Nothing takes up your time like moving, and that was probably the biggest (logistically speaking) move I've ever done in my life. It took nearly a month just to recover! And then, I opened this chapter again and tweaked it a bit more.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the latest chapter!

* You can read The Buried Moon on AO3 or FFnet

[beyondspaceandstars]

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

[airis-paris14]

Dress Up 9

Summary: She’s not his fiancee, but no one needs to know...

Warnings: None

Masterlist || 8 || 9 || 10

"Oh babycakes! We're so proud of you!" Sirobie's mom gushed once everyone made it inside the apartment safely, the paparazzi trapped outside of the building. "Thanks, Mama," the new college graduate smiled as all of her family members pulled her in for a hug. "Siri, Siri," Soleil tugged on her sister's gown to be picked up. "What would you like to eat?" Her father asked as he looked at nearby restaurants on his phone.

"There's a good Italian place nearby, we could order three or four family-style meals. Some of my friends from Wakanda are coming and DaNiyah and Angela's families."

"Sounds good to me," Naomi Johnson smiled as she smoothed down her daughter's hair while she played with her younger sister. "You guys get whatever you want, I haven't had anything I haven't liked since I've gone there."

"Bet, I call first pick," Ahj yelled as he jumped over Sirobie's couch to join his dad in the kitchen. "Boy if you don't stop jumping over my furniture," Sirobie fussed and her father popped her brother on the back of his head. "Ow, jeez. It's not like it won't be my apartment in a few months anyway. "Says who?" Richard Johnson questioned as he scanned the restaurant menu. "I mean I'm coming to Howard anyway, why can't I just stay here?"

"Nice try, but you've got to live on campus, your first year little brother." Sirobie laughed as her brother's cocky face fell. "Man what? I'm too pretty for communal bathrooms."

Sirobie's mother took her youngest daughter into her arms and rolled her eyes at her son. "You'll get over it."

"Just look at it as a right of passage," Sirobie shrugged, finally taking off her gown and cap. "Wait, wait," her mother frowned, "I wanna take some more pictures when the girls get here."

"Mama," the filmmaker whined. "Mama," Naomi mocked her eldest, "Just go hang it up and be ready to put it back on when everyone else gets here."

"Fine," Sirobie sighed and went into her room to hang up her gown, not before grabbing Soleil's hand as she insisted that she walk with her. "Siri, I wanna come stay with you," Soleil pouted as her sister hung her garb up in the closet. "What? You won't miss your friends at school?"

"Nope," the four-year-old shook her head. "Well what about mama and daddy, they'd miss you."

"No they won't, they'll have Ahj."

"Well, you remember how I left home and you only saw me ever so often?" the preschooler nodded. "Well, Ahj is about to do that too. Mama and daddy are gonna need you."

"Oh, but I wanna see you."

"Well how about I see if you can stay with me for a few weeks before I start working. How does that sound?" Sirobie smiled and pinned the graduation cap to her little sister's clacker balls and twists. Soleil nodded and a little grin lit up her face. "When will I get to meet Challa?"

Sirobie froze as her little sister giggled at her reflection with the too big hat on. For a moment, she'd forgotten that Soleil had met and instantly loved the king over the phone. "I wanna see his big house."

"I don't know soso," the big sister sighed.

"Are you sad?"

"Yeah, just a little."

"Cause you miss Challa?"

"Yeah, but it's more complicated than that little one."

What's compicated?"

"It means it's hard to understand munchkin."

The little girl nodded but the doorbell interrupted her before she could ask another question. "Let's go see who's at the door huh?"

"Okay!" the little girl bounced out of the room and Sirobie sighed.

"Eshe! Kasigo!" Sirobie's face lit up as two of her former lady's maids turned friends took off their coats at the door. "My lady," Eshe greeted and both of the women dropped into a curtsy. "Please. Just Sirobie. I'm back to being a normal person again." The former student clarified as her mother, father, and brother looked at her like she had grown two heads. Soleil however, was beaming at the thought that her older sister might be a real-life princess.

"Siri! Are you a princess!"

"No-"

"Respectfully, Lady Sirobie, you will always be our princess." Eshe smiled and Kasigo nodded in agreement. Sirobie blushed and Soleil squealed. "Does this mean I am a princess too?"

"Well of course little one," Kasigo curtsied before Soleil and Eshe followed suit. "Ehse, Kasigo, this is my little sister, Soleil. My parents Richard and Naomi Johnson. And my little brother Ahj."

"A pleasure to meet you all," the two women nodded. "You as well. Thank you for taking care of my baby while she was away." Mrs. Johnson smiled and hugged each of the ladies. "It was our pleasure," Eshe reassured the women. "It is lovely to meet you both as well, but would anyone mind explaining why you are calling my daughter a princess?" Richard Johnson interrupted the exchange.

"Why don't we all sit down first?" Naomi pushed her family towards the couches. " Well Daddy, remember when you called and I said that I was being well taken care of, and not doing anything illegal?"

The father raised an eyebrow and Sirobie knew she needed to get to the point quickly. "The future Queen of Wakanda went missing abruptly, Princess Kamyra, and since apparently, we are doppelgangers for each other, the royal family paid me to be a stand-in until they could locate her. Hence, Kasigo and Eshe, my former lady's maids."

"Yes, we know that your daughter is not a true royal family member, but she is just as graceful, well-spoken, intelligent, kind, caring, funny, and beautiful as any of the best ones we have ever met. Everyone loved her during her time in the country." Eshe elaborated.

"Therefore, we continue to honor her by calling her by her title. Given by the Queen Mother and the king themselves." Kasigo finished. Everyone turned to Sirobie's father and brother, "So the king at the press conference, he was telling the truth?"

Except for the part he omitted where they asked me to stand in," Sirobie nodded.

"Why did he lie?"

"It is complicated Daddy. There is a lot going on in Wakanda and he did it for my safety."

Richard sighed and looked around the room. "Well, this is not how I envisioned this night going." Everyone laughed as the father glanced down at his phone. " I am just glad you are home safe baby girl. I am so proud of you. You're my princess too." The father and daughter embraced. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Come on Ahj. Let's go grab this food." The two men shrugged back on their coats but before opening the door her father paused, "When will I get to meet this king?"

"You already did Daddy. T'Challa."

"Sirobie Johnson, you had me on the phone calling a king by his first name?"

"Daddy, he told me to. I couldn't exactly tell you who he was."

"Jesus Christ the situations y'all put me in," Richard grumbled as he and Ahj headed out the door. The women left behind could do nothing but laugh. Once the quiet settled over the apartment again, Eshe hopped up and grabbed a box she had placed on the floor near her coat. "We brought gifts. The first one is from Queen Mother and Princess Shuri."

Sirobie beamed at the mention of Ramonda and Shuri's names. "They send their regrets that they couldn't make it to your graduation in person."

"I will have to send a card back with you two," Sirobie beamed and carefully unwrapped the intricate vibranium box. Pressing her finger to the lock scanner she gasped as a tiara emerged from the dark purple velvet lining of the box. "Oh my goodness," Sirobie breathed in awe of the delicate tiara. "They thought you might like a more western-style tiara with a little Wakanda flair," Kasigo revealed. In the center of the tiara was a heart-shaped herb and lined on each side of the crown, surrounded by diamond-encrusted leaves was the flower of each of the tribes. "I love it so much," The graduate fought back tears but started laughing when she noticed how big her little sister's eyes had grown. "Don't laugh at my baby," Naomi Johnson laughed and accepted the crown from her eldest so that she and the youngest could admire it.

"They also sent a card but requested that you wait until you are alone to read it." Eshe handed over an envelope. Sirobie nodded and moved on to the next gift in Eshe's hands. "This one is from us, Lesedi too. She is sorry she could not make it."

"She is here in spirit." Sirobie smiled and felt the grin grow even larger as she realized it was a scrapbook of her time in Wakanda. "Guys," she sniffled as she flipped through page after page or her getting ready for balls and dinners, dates with T'Challa, painting, sketching, hanging out with Shuri, and taking tea with the queen. The last photo was one of her putting the finishing touches on T'Challa's portrait. Her engagement ring glistened on her left finger in the sun. "I love it. I didn't even know you guys were taking photos," Sirobie grinned.

"We remembered you saying you used to love scrapbooking, so we thought that one day, you might want some of your memories from Wakanda." Kasigo smiled, "It was Lesedi's idea."

"I'll have to write her a personal thank you." Sirobie wiped her eyes. "Angela and DaNiyah's families will probably be here soon. I should go get dressed again."

"I wanna go!" Soleil beamed. "We'll help as well." Kasigo and Eshe followed Amani into her room and Naomi Johnson laughed.

Eshe worked deftly to fashion Sirobie's hair into an updo and the woman smiled, missing the expertise of her friend. "Siri," Soleil squirmed in her sister's lap, "you should wear your tiara!"

"Maybe later Soso," Siriobie smiled. "No, we actually promised the queen you'd take a picture and we'd send it to her. We can do it quickly before everyone else gets here."

"Yay!" Soleil beamed and Sirobie shook her head as the Tiara was pulled and pinned gracefully to her updo. "Wow, you look just like a princess." The four-year-old gasped. Amani stood and placed Soleil on the ground before admiring her reflection in the mirror. The milk chocolate silk of one of her Wakandan dinner gowns complimented her skin beautifully and the tiara and the Updo finished the facade. It did indeed look like she was staring at the reflection of a princess. "I- I have no words," she breathed and reached up to make sure she was still looking at her own reflection. I haven't looked like this in so long. Sometimes it feels like a dream."

"I assure you it was not a dream," Eshe hugged her as Kasigo took Soleil's little hand in her own. A knock pulled them all out of her reverent silence, "Ro, someone is here and wants to see you-"

Naomi Johnson paused as she looked at her oldest child for the first time dressed like the princess she'd always been to her mother. "Oh, my baby," tears pooled in her eyes and Sirobie giggled and pulled her mom in for a hug. "Oh, you look absolutely stunning. You ladies are masters of your craft," the mother praised and the women bowed their heads in gratitude.

"Oh yes," suddenly Mrs. Johnson remembered why she had come in the room, "Someone is here to see you. They're in the living room."

Sirobie frowned as Kasigo and Eshe realized who had joined them. "Okay, let me take off the-"

"No! I want pictures before you take down all of their hard work. Leave it alone until you come back."

"Mama," Sirobie found herself whining once more but Naomi Johnson ignored it. "Go on, shoo."

"Mama!" the artist stumbled before she felt some familiar hands steady her. "Entle." She turned and came face to face with the man she thought she would never see again. "Your majesty," She stepped out of his reach and his face fell. "You look breathtaking," the king cleared his throat, fighting the urge to freeze. The vision in front of him did nothing to stop help.

Siriobie found herself blushing before straightening her face once more, "What do you want your majesty?"

"Please Sirobie. You know that it will always be T'Challa to you."

"Your majesty-"

"You aren't wearing your ring," the king interrupted. He felt his heart drop at the thought that she had completely written the two of them being together off forever. "I couldn't exactly wear it to my highly televised graduation where everyone wanted a photo of me could I?" Sirobie sneered, anger at the reminder of the hurt he'd caused returning. "Sirobie, there is nothing I can ever say that will make up for what I have done, but I am truly sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"I know T'Challa, but you blew up my life. I don't even know if I still have a job if we're being honest. The key to being on a film set is secrecy. They can't have a crew member and cast being stalked by paparazzi."

"I found the information on your job and called. I personally explained and smoothed everything over." Sirobie felt her mouth fall wide open, "Well explained everything except the part where I am madly in love with you. I did not think that it was appropriate for-"

"T'Challa, you didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. I know how badly you want this job. This career. I refuse to be the reason that is stolen from you. No matter how much I truly just want you to move back to Wakanda with me."

"I couldn't either way T'Challa. I couldn't watch you marry and have kids with-"

"We were able to break the contract. I won't be marrying anyone anytime soon."

"What?"

"Kamyra's family tried to have me murdered. She and I got married and then annulled it right after. She's going off to college to get her degree."

"Oh." Sirobie struggled to wrap her mind around the news that had just rushed from the king's lips.

"Sirobie," the king got down on one knee again, "I know that you are not ready for marriage or settling down right now, and I would not be happy forcing you into this lifestyle without you getting to live your own life first, but I am in love with you. Have been since I first laid eyes on you painting on the terrace. I want to see where this goes."

"What exactly are you asking T'Challa?"

"Sirobie Johnson, will you be my girlfriend?"

"We've got a lot to figure out. Including how to clear the air internationally, but, I would love to be your girlfriend T'Challa Udaku." Sirobie beamed as the king swept her up into a bridal carry. "T'Challa put me down!" she laughed. "Yay!" Soleil burst out of her sister's room jumping up and down. "My King," Kasigo and Eshe greeted.

"T'Challa," Mrs. Johnson smiled, "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

The king glanced at his girlfriend, "Only if it's okay with Sirobie."

"If you're up for intense interrogations, I'd love to have you. You'll have to meet the family anyway."

"Oh, I brought you a gift. We'll two really. The king pulled two small boxes out of his coat pocket. Smiling softly, Sirobie opened the first slender box and pulled out a delicate vibranium chain. "It's for your ring. I know you were using one of your old ones, but the promise was that I would buy you a chain before you left."

"Thank you T'Challa," Sirobie smiled. "We can put the ring on it later," she promised before boxing it back up. "This one is kind of part two," the king admitted as Sirobie unwrapped a framed photo of the two on their first outing with the ring. Sirobie was playing the part of ecstatic fiancee' well in the photo as T'Challa had his arms wrapped around her waist and she with her hands on his chest. Ring glistening away in the lightbulb flashes. "This is one of my favorite photos of us," the king admitted.

"Mine too," Sirobie cheesed.

"Come on, before someone notices," Sirobie quickly pulled the King out of her apartment. His chuckle filled the hall as they escaped outside to the city streets. H Street in DC was bustling with recent Howard grads and their friends having one last adventure before adulthood fully set in. The girls themselves were planning to head out a little later, accompanied by the king of course, but Sirobie wanted him to herself for a little while before the night was over. "You wanna see campus or the city?" Sirobie grinned up at T'Challa as they came to a quieter fork in the road. "I wanna see the place that helped make you the amazing woman I am so blessed to call my own." The graduate felt her cheeks heat up as she turned left, guiding the king up the hill to the Mecca. Soon, the quick tour was done and they took a seat on a bench on the yard.

"So, how do we make this work?'' Sirobie asked the moon their only company on the quiet green. "We take it as slow or as fast as you want," the king sighed pulling her hand into his. "Quite frankly," He glanced at the ring that was once again around her neck. A sly grin formed inside as his finger lifting the metal from her neck caused a quiet gasp to escape her lips. He chuckled lightly, twirling the ring around his finger. "If I could have my way, I would have already asked you to marry me once again," He admitted. The new Howard Alumna felt her heart racing as a cheshire grin covered his face. "As much as I would love that," she laughed before becoming a bit more serious, "I got my own life to live first T'Challa. I can't just live for you and Wakanda, just yet. I've got to be more than just his little wife," she sang a quick snicker following after. T'Challa looked at her blank-faced and she bit back another laugh, "Beyoncé jokes, gotta improve your knowledge on that if you're planning on spending eternity with me."

"Oh, Beyoncé the singer? Shuri loves her." Sirobie simply shook her head and leaned on T'Challa's chest.

"Before I forget," the king cleared his throat a little while later before they could head back up the stairs to Sirobie's apartment. They'd wandered around a bit more before deciding it was time to head back and get ready to go out with the girls. "This is for you. I called the loan company and, with your mother's help, was able to finesse your final balance number out of them. I believe this should cover it, and help you get started out in Los Angeles when you move." Sirobie felt her mouth drop open as the 10 digit number on the check became obvious. "T'Challa, I can't, this is more than enough to cover my debt. That's all you promised me. I can't take all of this," Sirobie shook her head and handed him the check back. "No, Sirobie, I wanted it to be a surprise, but your mom expressed her concerns about you being able to afford safe housing in Los Angeles, and I want you to be able to live wherever you want, safely. So I'm buying you a house. We'll you're buying you a house. I'm just gonna help, if you'll let me," the king rambled on as his girlfriend's eyes filled with tears. "I just want you safe," the king sighed as he pulled her in for a hug, "and having somewhere I can come to stay with you whenever I'm in town on business is another benefit."

"I'd love to have you come stay with me and help me choose a house," Sirobie finally answered, accepting the check. "As long as you don't mind Soleil being around, I kinda promised she could come to stay with me for a while until I started working."

"Of course," the royal smiled following Sirobie up the stairs to her apartment. "Besides," he whispered in her ear, stopping her from opening the door, "We'll have time for each other when she's sleeping." He placed a kiss on her exposed neck and delighted in the way she shivered under him. "Where are you staying tonight?" she turned to face him, pulling his face closer. "Ritz Carlton," T'Challa mumbled against her lips. "Good, I'm joining you," Sirobie grinned, finally letting him engulf her in a rough kiss against the door. Careful not to alert anyone inside what was happening just outside the door.

Taglist: @blackbypurpose @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @waitingonafriend-blog @faatassbitch

[itsadamcole]

arranged

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader was just a regular American girl who has some royal family members in Scotland. Drew is the heir to the Scottish throne, and he needed to marry to become king. Drew and reader were married only days after they met, making reader a Scottish princess. both were against the wedding. now, the two want nothing to do with each other unless they have to attend a public event, until one night ...

word count: 3.6k

warnings: prince!drew, arguments, arranged marriage (ig that's what you can call it?), angst, a tiny bit of fluff

— this was originally gonna be one part but now it’s two bc that’s just the way the writing brought me. this was also gonna go in a completely different direction than it did but now this is it. enjoy —

part 2 || masterlist || request an imagine here

***

You're getting ready in your chambers. The maids are helping you get ready for the annual New Years Ball that the royal family of Scotland puts on every January 1st. Your long Y/H/C colored hair is being curled by one of the maids while another does your makeup. A third maid is making sure your dress and shoes are ready for you for when your hair and makeup are done.

Balls are not your thing. Actually, going out in public with your husband is not your thing. It's only a few times a week but you're not all about the fake smiles and hand-holding when you were never supposed to marry him anyway.

Being a princess was not on your list of things to be in life. You were an up and rising professional wrestler. Your great Aunt Blair asked you to come to Scotland to meet someone while you were wrestling on Ring of Honor. You had no idea that she meant that she actually volunteered you to marry the heir to the Scottish throne.

The maid doing your hair throws some little white flowers with a sparkly silver lining on the end of the petals. The maid doing your makeup has done a silver smokey eye look with some highlight, blush, and nude lipstick color.

Your nails were done earlier in the day. You got an acrylic French manicure. The nails are kind of long and oval-shaped.

"Princess," one of the maids says. "Yer dress is ready for ya when ya're."

You look at the ballgown hanging up in your large closet and sigh softly.

Once your hair and makeup are done, you get up. One of the maids grabs the dress. You take off the long, silky robe and the dress is pulled over your head. You're zipped up and the maids puff out the skirt.

The silver ball gown is very poofy with a small trail. The dress is strapless and very sparkly. The neck dips down a little bit. The top is tight and gets poofy at the waist. You put on silver heels to match the dress.

You put on silver earrings and a necklace, as well as your diamond engagement ring and silver wedding band.

There's a knock on your door as one of the maids put on a silver tiara since you are the princess of Scotland. Another one answers the door.

"Oh, yer highness," she says, bowing. "The princess is almost ready."

A male voice says, "Thank ya, Miss Arabel." Your husband, Drew, is at the door.

After some finishing touches, you're finally ready. You walk up to the door and look at Drew, who's dressed nicely in a black and white suit with a silver tie to match you. His hair in a neat ponytail on the back of his head. He's also wearing his wedding band.

"Ready?" he asks. You can hear the annoyance in his voice.

You nod and mumble, "Sure."

Drew hooks his arm with yours and the two of you head down to the ballroom.

You wait at the door with Drew's father and brother. The royal family is announced together. Drew's father, the King of Scotland, says, "Y/N, ya look stunning. Doesn't she, Drew?" He looks at his eldest son.

Drew just nods and says, "Sure, it's a little too much though."

Anger rises within you as Drew's dad signals for the door to be opened. The guard at the door opens the door and another guard yells, "Introducing the Royal Family of Scotland. The king, Andrew, Prince Drew, Princess Y/N, and Prince John."

Music plays and a fake smile forms on your lips as you follow Drew's father into the large ballroom. Most of the room is made of gold and a large chandelier hangs on the ceiling.

"The princess looks stunning."

"Look at the princess."

The comments make you blush and the fake smile turns real. Drew looks down at you without you knowing.

You and Drew mingle, talking with guests together. Drew steals occasional glances at you but you don't notice as you laugh with the guests.

Being an American, you're still learning about all the Scottish traditions. You've only been over here for a few months so everyday is a learning experience. The guests ask what you did for the holidays with Drew and his family since it's your first time in the country.

"Oh, we celebrated Christmas the way we do in America," you explain to the guests who asked. "Christmas Eve dinner, presents on Christmas morning, and Christmas dinner on Christmas Day. Drew and I also watched some Christmas movies that night. I've heard that Scotland's Christmas traditions are similar to America's."

You added the part about Drew to make it seem like you and your husband actually spent time together on Christmas. After dinner, you went off to your separate chambers and you watched Christmas movies over FaceTime with your friend who now works in NXT, Candice LeRae.

The guests are all very interested. Then the music changes and Drew asks, "M'lady, may I have this dance?"

You look up at Drew and say, "Uh, yeah. Sure." He takes your hand and you excuse yourself from the small group and walk to the dance floor with Drew.

He takes one of your hands in his and the other goes to your waist. You hold up your very poofy skirt so you don't trip.

The dance is slow at first, to make sure you don't trip. Once you're both in sync with each other and you're sure you won't trip, Drew speeds up the movements.

"Wow," Drew says. "My toes aren't bruised yet. Looks like those dance lessons 're paying off."

You stare up at Drew, who is standing tall above you at six foot five. "You're so funny, Drew," you say, rolling your eyes. "I almost peed from laughing so hard."

Drew says, "And there's the sarcasm I absolutely just love about ya."

"As if you love anything about me," you mumble to yourself.

The air turns tense and he says, "Ya could only wish that I'd love ya, or anything about this relationship."

Rolling your eyes, you say, "Maybe if you spent time with me, maybe you'd actually start liking things about this relationship. You only married me to become king when your father relinquishes the crown in a few months."

He looks around and says in a hush tone, "Believe it or not, Y/N, but I married ya for several reasons. Yes, I needed t'marry t'become king but I was excited to start a family. Then ya got here and were nothing like I expected. Yeah, I have an attitude with ya but that's because ya have one with me all the time."

Annoyance rises within you and you say, "I gave up my career to come here. I gave up my dreams of wrestling for WWE and winning titles for the company. I'm not happy I'm in this marriage, Drew. I married a stranger and you're still a stranger to me."

Guests start to look at you and Drew so he takes your hand and whisks you off to a more private area in one of the hallways. You trip over your gown as you follow closely behind Drew.

The door closes and now you're alone with Drew. He looks at you and says, "I'm sorry that ya gave up wrestling to come here and marry me, Y/N. I'm not that happy about it either but if I wanted t'succeed my father then I had'ta marry someone, and that someone is ya."

"You could've picked someone in the country, Drew," you say. "Seriously, you had to pick me."

Drew says, "Yer aunt spoke very highly of ya when she would visit my father. When my father told me I needed t'marry, my mind went t'ya. I didn't think about the repercussions ya would face when I told my father I wanted ya t'be my wife."

Sighing, you say, "Wrestling was taken away from me and I moved away to a country to marry a prince. It's been overwhelming for me and you are nowhere to be seen. I've been taking princess lessons for months and I'm still struggling. It doesn't help I'm alone, Drew, in a foreign country. I don't even have wrestling anymore because I 'can't risk getting hurt'. It's not a fairytale ending like in the books."

There's a silence between the two of you before Drew says, "It still can be"

You look at Drew and ask, "What does that mean?"

He meets your eyes and suddenly you feel butterflies. You've never felt butterflies in your stomach since meeting Drew.

"I just thought that maybe before the coronation that maybe we can go t'America and see a few wrestling shows," he says slowly. "I'm a big fan myself."

Everyday in Scotland is a learning experience. You didn't know that he was a wrestling fan.

You say, "I'd, uh, like that."

Drew slowly takes your hand and he says, "I also thought that maybe we can share a room together like a married couple should."

Confused, you say, "It was your idea to have the separate chambers since we 'didn't have to be married within the four walls of the castle'. At least that's what you told me."

He says, "Contrary to popular belief, I actually do like ya, Y/N. Why do ya think my mind went t'ya when asked if there was someone I wanted t'marry? The girls in this country are beautiful, don't get me wrong, but ya. There's just something about ya that peeks my interests."

You stare up at Drew and for a second before you say, "We've been married for months and this is all coming out now."

"We've never had this conversation until now," Drew says, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "By the way, ya do look stunning in that dress. Shows yer personality really well."

You get flustered and say, "You said it was too much."

Drew chuckles and says, "I'm just that good of a liar, I guess."

A little bit of annoyance creeps up and you say, "Stop lying to me, Drew. I'm confused and now I have a headache because of what you're saying to me."

He says, "I know, I'm sorry. I can walk ya to yer room if ya wanna go lay down and get rid of that ache."

You soften up a bit and say, "Yeah." That's all you say. That's all you feel like you can say.

So, Drew walks you to your chambers. You notice that you're still holding his hand when you arrive at the door of your room. He turns toward you and says, "Whenever ya would like t'go see those wrestling shows in America then let me know and we'll go, okay?"

You nod and look up at your husband. "Thank you, Drew," you say. "Offering to go see some wrestling shows in my home country sounds really nice."

Drew says, "It's been a while since I've been to America and I'd like t'see where my wife is from."

My wife. He said you were his wife. That was the first time behind closed doors that he's referred to you as his wife.

There's another silence between the two of you before you say, "I'm, um, going to head inside. Take some medicine and lay down."

"Can I stop by later t'make sure yer okay?" he asks slowly and cautiously.

You consider it for a moment before you say, "Yeah, sure. Just come in if you do because knocking may make my headache worse."

Drew nods and says, "Alright."

You look up at Drew and the air between the two of you thickens a bit. Your heart races in your chest as you wait for Drew to do something.

He pushes a loose curl behind your ear before he kisses your cheek lightly. Your heart almost jumps out of your chest when his lips touch your cheek. You look at him as he pulls away from you slowly.

"Goodnight, in case yer asleep when I come check on ya after the party," Drew says quietly.

You nod and say in almost a whisper, "Goodnight."

He shoots you a smile before walking off to the party again. You stand in the hallway for a second, playing with your engagement ring as you watch him walk off.

For the first time in this marriage, Drew's actions and words made you have butterflies in your stomach and made your heart race.

If you didn't know any better then you might be falling for your husband.

***

The moment between you and Drew has melted away by morning. You walked down to breakfast early the next morning and he doesn't even acknowledge your presence at the table.

"Y/N, are ya feeling okay?" Drew's dad asks. "Ya left with Drew and only Drew came back."

Nodding, you say, "Yeah. I just wasn't feeling well so I went to bed a little early. That's all."

Drew finally glances at you and his dad says, "Feeling better this morning, I hope?"

"Depends," you say, looking at Drew. "Is your eldest son going to keep ignoring me like he is right now?"

His dad looks at him and asks, "Is there something wrong?"

You say, "No, nothing's wrong." You get angry and stand up. "Excuse me but I think I'm going to go back to my chambers. I'm not feeling well again."

After you're done talking, you leave and go back to your room. You've just closed the door when there's a knock.

Reluctantly, you go and answer it. Drew stands in the doorway and you say, "Oh, great. It's you. Come to promise me something else then ignore me again?"

Drew says, "Look, I'm sorry. This whole thing is new to me, Y/N. I'm 35 and I haven't been in a serious relationship like this."

"We're not even in a relationship, Drew," you spit at him. "We're legally bind to each other for you to become king."

He says, "I'm trying here, Y/N!" His voice is rising. "I'm fucking trying. We met, were engaged then married within weeks. I'm trying t'be a good husband in public while also trying t'form a relationship with you behind closed doors. It's not easy. Especially because I do want a relationship with ya, Y/N."

You glare at him and say, "Ignoring me isn't trying, Drew."

He says, "I know, Y/N." He rubs his face. "God, I'm terrible at communicating how I feel and this is whole new territory for me."

Deciding to lighten the air, you say, "If you want to be king then you have to work on communication skills there, Drew."

Drew looks at you and says, "I'm gonna pretend that I didn't just hear ya say that."

You smile and say, "Come on, Drew. Lighten up a bit. Here, tell me the truth. How do you feel when you're around me?"

Your husband blinks at you and thinks for a second. He says, "I, uh, I feel nervous. Ya make me a little nervous, Y/N. My heart races when ya're around me, especially when we touch. Um, when ya walk into a room, I feel a knot in my stomach. I don't know what it's called-"

"Butterflies," you say, helping him out. "They're called butterflies in the stomach. It's what happens when we're around someone who we may or may not like."

Drew looks down at you and says, "Sounds like yer talking from experience."

You nod slightly and say, "I am."

He blinks at you and starts to say something before someone walks into the hallway and say, "I apologize for the interruption, your highnesses. Prince Drew, your father has requested your presence in his chambers. Immediately."

Drew nods and says, "One second." He turns toward you. "When I'm done with my father, I'll come back and we can keep talking. Okay?"

You nod and he smiles before walking off quickly.

That's when you notice when there are butterflies in your stomach again.

***

It's hours later and you're still waiting for Drew. You've asked your maids if they've seen him and they've all said that he's still with his father.

You're watching Freaky Friday on Disney Plus when the doors to your chambers open. A red-faced Drew walks in and you ask, "Woah, Fire Face. What's wrong?"

"My father is what's wrong," Drew says. He's pacing around the room and you pause the movie, getting up and walking to him.

You say, "Talk to me, Drew." He doesn't look at you. "Hey, dumbass. I'm your wife, remember? You're supposed to talk to me about this stuff."

Finally, Drew looks down at you. You're so much shorter than him. You're barely five foot four. You're eye level with his chest and you have to tilt your head up to look at Drew.

He says, "My father just told me that we're going on a two week tour of the country. He wants me t'know the country before I ascend the throne."

"What's the matter with that?" you ask, gently stroking Drew's arm to calm him down.

His eyes are on your hand on his arm as he says, "I wanted t'surprise ya with tickets home t'America for the two weeks that we'll be on tour."

Your eyes widen and you say, "We can go when we get back."

Drew says, "When we got t'America, yer friend was gonna meet us in Florida. I got ya cleared t'wrestle in one match in WWE against your friend. It was more than just going t'see some wrestling shows in America. When we got t' ya're hometown, I was gonna take ya t'yer favorite spot that ya told me about before and I was gonna ask if ya wanted t'try and be a real couple."

Your heart sinks into stomach when you see how upset Drew is about this. You say, "You had all that planned out for me? For us?"

He nods and says, "I wanted ya to feel less alone and I wanted ya t'have at least one more match before ya actually have t'give up wrestling."

You console Drew by hugging him. You close your eyes and you say, "I already feel less alone, Drew."

"What about yer one more match?" he asks.

Looking up at Drew, you say, "I've already come to terms with the fact I'll probably never wrestle again. It would have been amazing to be in a WWE ring but I don't need one more match."

His hands rest on your cheeks before he says, "I'll get ya in a WWE ring at some point, Y/N. Ya gave up yer career t'be here. It's the least I can do."

The idea of talking to Drew's father pops into your mind and you say, "I need to do something really quick. Can you excuse me?"

Drew nods and you let go of each other before you walk off to the king's chambers.

At the door, you knock. A "come in" is said from the other side so you open the large doors.

King Andrew sits at his desk and he looks up at you. "Ah, Y/N," he says, getting up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Postpone the tour of Scotland," you bluntly say. "Please, sir."

His face hardens a bit as he says, "Drew must've told ya what was happening."

You nod and say, "He did, and he pulled a lot of strings to surprise me back home. Mr. King Sir, he gave me an opportunity to do the thing I love one more time before I give it up to join him by his side as queen of this beautiful country. He wants to take this trip to help us get closer so maybe we could be together behind closed doors as well. Let us take this trip and the day we get back, we can tour this country that I can proudly say I call my second home."

Andrew looks at you as you talk. He leans against his desk and crosses his arms across his chest, looking down at the floor when you're done talking.

You wait for a response.

It's almost an eternity before he says, "I can remember what it was like t'be in love with Drew's mother when we were younger. All the trips we took were always business, never for pleasure. Then she got sick and she died, and I regret that we never got to go on a trip just for pleasure. So, I will postpone the tour so ya and Drew can visit the States, but the day ya get back is the day the tour of Scotland begins."

You smile and say, "Yes, Mr. King Sir. May I go tell Drew the news?"

He nods and dismisses you.

As soon as you're out of the room, you take off back toward your chambers. Drew sits on the small love seat in your room and looks at you when you walk in.

"When do we leave to go to America?"

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

[abbatoirablaze]

Teller Morrow Tragedy, The Prequel, Chapter 24

Word Count:  2.4k

Warnings:  surprise pregnancy, angst, mentions of an overdose, death/suicide, underage/taboo relationship, manipulation, underage drinking, underage smoking, drug use/illegal drugs, mentions of needles and drugs. 

Missy's pOV

"Well it's about time you showed up," he smiled as I walked through the door, “I thought you were starting to get cold feet.”

"Isn't it bad luck to see me today?" 

He shook his head, "I don't care.  After today I don't have to worry about any of that bullshit.  I'll get to see you every day for the rest of our lives." 

"You know I won't be able to live here with you for a few more years," I sighed, "I'm still 16 Esai." 

"Actually," my older sister smiled, coming from behind the bathroom door, "we've got that taken care of." 

"What?" I asked, "wait, how long have you been back there?" 

"About twenty minutes," Mikey smiled, "anyways.  Tell her mom." 

"I got Judge Hale to sign emancipation papers for you." 

"What?" 

Esai smiled, "and then your sister filed for a wedding certificate for us...so this will be a real wedding...not just a ceremony for show." 

"Esai-" 

"I know you're nervous," he said, "but trust me baby, everything will be fine.  My hous-our house is all set up.  I've had your sister helping me for a month now." 

"This counts as my wedding present," Alicia smiled, handing me an envelope, "it's your emancipation papers." 

I pulled them out and looked at them, "but how did mom and dad allow this?"

"Well," she sighed, "they aren't happy with me..." 

I looked at her in confusion.  Mikey rolled her eyes, "Alicia blackmailed them.  Originally Esai set up a meeting with grandma and grandpa and asked them if he could marry you.  Grandpa nearly killed him where he stood.  But mom has some dirt on them...so she got them to sign." 

"Alicia..." 

"Don't say anything," she said, coming up to me.  She wrapped her arms around me and kissed the top of my head, "I haven't always been the best big sister, but I do love you...and if any of us deserves a happy ending, it's you Melissa." 

I felt the tears pricking at my cheeks as I hugged her back, "I can't believe you would help me like this." 

"You're one of my little sisters," she replied as though it were an obvious fact, "I'll help you any way that I can." 

I nodded as she backed away from me and told Esai to go get ready.  He nodded and departed without kissing me.  Mikayla took my hand, "grandma did want to do something for you though." 

She led me into the bathroom where a beautiful wedding gown hung off the shower curtain.  It was a simple white dress with a flared-out bottom.  I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks, "it's beautiful."

"She's sorry that she couldn't come." I whispered.  Alicia nodded at me. 

"You know how upset dad would have gotten if she did," she sighed, "I'm sorry Missy." 

"It's fine," I sighed.  I took a few steps to the dress, "do me a favor..." 

Alicia nodded, "anything." 

"I'm going to announce it later," she said, "but I have a surprise for Esai." 

"What is it?" 

I leaned forward, and reached into my bag, pulling out the test, "I missed my period...me and Esai are going to have a baby." 

Alicia's eyes got wide, "oh my god." 

I smiled and nodded, and the three of us began crying happy tears.  Mikey and Alicia were congratulating me.  After we cried for a few minutes, we parted, and they went outside to let me get ready.  The ceremony was going to take place in a few hours.  

I looked down at the test.  I should have told Esai before anyone else.  We'd made love back in December, and since then we'd been practically inseparable.  Hell he'd even proposed to me at midnight New year's eve.  

But now, we were finally going to start our lives together.  I rushed into my dress and did my make up.  I heard a knock on the door.  Looking at my phone I realized that it was time.  It was 4:00 PM.  

I went over to the door and began to open it.  On the other side was my mom.  She had tears in her eyes. 

"I'm still mad," she said, sniffling, "but I can't let one of my babies get married without me...that's not right." 

I tried to hold back tears as I all but jumped into her arms, "I'm so glad you're here." 

"Alicia left with the dress this morning and I just couldn't stop thinking about it.  Your dad and I got in a fight...so it's just me." 

"It's fine mom.  I'm just glad you're here." 

"Are you ready?" 

I nodded.  I closed the door behind me, and I heard music coming from down the hall.  We walked outside the clubhouse to see the set up.  The chairs were filled by mostly his family and club, but in the front row I could see Alicia, Mikayla, and Chibs.

Down by the alter I saw Esai, smiling with his father by his side.  

"It's okay baby," mom smiled, walking me down the aisle, “I love you so much.”

When we got to the front, I could see tears in Esais' eyes, "you look so beautiful." 

"You don't look too bad yourself," I winked.  He laughed and took my hands in his own.  Mom stood on the other side of me.  

"Do you, Esai, take Melissa to be your lawfully wedded wife?" he began.  I hardly paid attention to the words the priest said.  I couldn't stop staring into his eyes.  

"I do," he smiled.  I could faintly hear the priest call my name, but I was in a daze.  I get to marry this man.  I get to be his wife.  I get t-

"Melissa?" he asked.  

I felt a blush raise to my face, "I do." 

He smiled softly, and I squeezed his hands.  The priest made quick work of everything, and soon I heard him say, 'you may now kiss the bride.' 

Everyone cheered as Esai lifted my veil and we kissed.  Music played as we stood in front of our family and friends.  Esais' dad, Mr. Alvarez started pushing everyone inside where the food was.  We made our way through the clubhouse to the back where a tent was set up to host the reception.  

It was beautiful.  I smiled as I sat down.  

The reception went way too quick for my liking.  It felt like everything was moving too fast.  Before I knew it, it was time for our first dance.  

"Esai," I whispered, “can I ask you something?”

"Si, mi amore? "

"I-" 

"I'm sorry, but we need to stop the party," a police officer said, taking the microphone.  The music and everyone in the tent stopped talking, "We need to speak to the family of a Tessa Alvarez.  We were told that this is where to find her." 

Esai looked at me, before pulling me with him over to the police.  Mr. Alvarez came over shortly, "What's this about?

"We need to speak with you privately.  Are you all related to Margarite Tessa Alvarez?" 

"I'm Marcus," Mr. Alvarez stated, "her father.  This is her brother and his wife." 

The police officer nodded, "follow me." 

Marcus signaled for the music to start again, and we followed him into the clubhouse.  Inside, Diana was crying, "what's going on?" 

"Marcus," she said, getting up, "It's Tessa." 

"Mr. Alvarez, your daughter Tessa was found at home.  We think she overdosed." 

"NO," he said angrily, "my daughter doesn't do drugs." 

"Marcus," Diana whispered, "I found her.  I was coming to get her for the wedding..." 

"No," he said in disbelief, "why would Tessa do this..." 

"We're sorry Mr. Alvarez.  We wanted to alert you that we took Miss. Alvarez to the hospital, but they were unable to resuscitate her." 

Marcus fell to the ground and began crying.  The police officers told Esai that we could tell the hospital where to send the body in a few days after they did the autopsy, then promptly left.  I fell to the ground in disbelief.  

"This can't be happening," I said through teary eyes, "Tessa said she was okay.   She said that she was over Imani's passing..." 

"It's my fault," Diana admitted, "I told her." 

Marcus looked up at the younger girl in disbelief, "what the hell would you do that for, huh?  I told you she wasn't ready!" 

"Dad," Esai said slowly, "What are you talking about." 

Marcus looked back at his son, then to Diana.  I saw the look they shared, "you conniving little bitch.  You're fucking him aren't you?" 

"What?" Esai asked, "no way.  Dad wouldn't.  Diana's only 17.   She'-" 

"Your wife is right," Marcus said, eyes full of shame, "ever since Imani passed." 

"Dad..." 

"I'm sorry son." 

Mandy's POV

"Fuck him," I sighed angrily.  She agreed as she pulled the needle from my arm, "he thinks that we're such good friends, and he tells me all his problems, but then he just treats me like a little fucking kid.  It hurts." 

She nodded along, "I know how you feel.  Jax says he loves me, and he's glad we got married, but at the same time he's fucking around with god damned crow eaters.  Then he comes home, and he's trying to act like some amazing guy." 

"Fuck that." 

"Fuck everyone," she laughed.  She lit up a cigarette and took a drag before dropping the pack between us.  I picked up the pack and grabbed one for myself.  

"Fuck everyone," I repeated.  I took a heavy drag as I leaned against the couch.  We looked at the living room ceiling.  She laughed at me, and I cursed, as I had rested the cigarette against the floor.  It'd burned the carpet, “Shit.  I’m sorry, Wen.” 

"You're fine," she said as I'd tried to apologize, "I can't count the number of times I've fallen asleep like that.  I cursed again and took another deep drag.

"Sorry," replied after a minute, "I just...just go somewhere else when we do this.  I don't think.  I don't worry.  About anything.  It's so fucking amazing." 

I reached over and took her free hand, "what's up?" 

"I think you're like the first real friend I've ever had," I sighed, "You get me...and you don't judge me.  You don't treat me like a kid.  Thank you." 

"Of course sweetie," she said lovingly, "you're a great person Mandy." 

"So are you, Wendy." 

"Well, that's bullshit," she laughed, "good people don't give 14 years olds heroin.  But it's a rare thing for someone to call me a good person, so I'll take it." 

"Hey Wendy?" 

"Yeah sweetie?" 

"Why doesn't Juice like me?" 

"Because it's illegal?" 

"I don't think that's it...like am I not pretty enough?" 

"You're pretty enough," Wendy said, lighting up another cigarette.  She got up, and I did the same.  She took me by the hand and led me out to the kitchen.  She reached into the fridge and grabbed the two of us beers, "he's just stupid.  All guys are stupid." 

"Ain't that the truth," I laughed, taking her offering.  She spun me, and we made our way back out into the living room, "do you think you can help me like dress different and use make up and stuff?  My sisters won't.  They say I'm too young." 

She nodded, "I got you kiddo." 

We sat back down but, on the floor, still against the wall.  We lounged there for a few hours, forgetting our beers, and after a while our cigarettes.  We'd left a few more burn marks in the carpet, but it didn't matter.  

None of it did.  

"What the hell is this?" 

"Mmmm stop yelling, that shit hurts," I hissed, pulling myself up from the floor, “and cut it out with the lights.”

"No.  I already called grandma.  She's on her way back with mom and grandpa.  And so is-" 

"What the hell is going on?" 

I kept blinking, trying to get a clear picture of what was going on.  Wendy woke herself from a stupor.  I looked at the needle Mikey had in her hands.  She was screaming at Jax. 

"I fucking told you so," she screamed, "They've been fucking using." 

"Mikey?" Jax asked in disbelief, finally glimpsing at the needle and the stamp bags by the couch.  Shit.  We forgot to clean up before we passed out.  

"Jax.  Jackson," Wendy said, trying to back track, "it's not what it looks like." 

"Not what it looks like?"  he asked, rage filling his tone, "My daughter is holding a goddamn needle.  What the fuck did you do Wendy?" 

"What is going on?" mom asked, coming in.  She saw Mikayla holding a needle, then looked back to me and finally to Wendy and Jax, "you god damn junkie bitch." 

She lunged at her.  I scrambled up as Wendy pushed me behind her, and Jax intercepted her.  Mom began screaming at her, calling her every name in the book.  But Jax held her back.  

"I can't fucking believe this," Mikey said, "you didn't believe me.  I fucking told you.  She and Aunt Mandy have been spending all this time together.  What did you think they were doing?  HUH?" 

"Mikayla," Jax said struggling, "not right now." 

Dad came in, and pulled mom away from Jax, "what the hell is going on, huh?" 

Mikey put down the needle on the island that connected the living room and kitchen.  He glared at it, then to everyone else.  Then he saw the track marks in my arm.  His eyes went from angry, to broken.  I could see the agony in his eyes, "Amanda?" 

"Daddy," I said, my own eyes watering, "I didn't mea-" 

"DON'T LIE TO ME," he boomed, cutting me off.  The sadness was still there, but the anger returned, "how long?" 

"It was a mis-" 

"I SAID DON'T LIE TO ME!" 

"Since Christmas," I cried, "the party." 

He walked right up to me and grabbed me by both shoulders.  The anger was tangible...it was choking me.  I saw a lone tear slide down his face before he let go of me, and whipped around, punching Jax in the face.  

Jackson went down hard, and mom gasped, backing herself into the corner, "this is your fault.  You let Wendy into this family.  YOU...you let her do this to my baby girl." 

Jax got up and pushed Clay.  Mom ran between the two of them, trying to break them up.  The two of them were screaming at one another about whos fault was whos, and that the other one fucked up as a parent...how they fucked up by not catching it.  It all became too much.  

I tried to run, but Wendy took my hand.  I looked at her, completely horrified, "we can run away...please." 

"We can't run from this," she said, defeated, "we fucked up."

Chapter 25

 Tag List:  @lohnes16 @evyiione

[ellewords]

Hiiii! I don't know if it's late for sending this, but I kinda wanted to share this. I'm so sorry if it's long or something... I really hope you enjoy it.

You see, the thought of wedding began to swim in my head since I was 6. I know it's too early for that, but idk why. I always dreamt of getting married, having a lavish wedding ceremony... I used to wear my mother's white chiffon scarf as a veil with my white dress which I used to wear when I was 3 or 4 (It was so tight!). But there would be a huge smile on my face.

As I got older, I realised I can't wear a white gown on my wedding day. As a Bangladeshi, I have to wear red saree with gold jewellery, which aren't bad, but I lowkey want to wear a white gown with a pretty veil, holding a beautiful bouquet of different flowers. Just thinking myself seeing in one makes me smile. When I went to Melbourne and was outside for shopping, I'd stop in front of a store that sold wedding gowns. I'd just stare wistfully at them.

One day, out of nowhere, a thought crossed my mind. I'm in a beautiful white dress that I saw on pinterest, walking down the aisle... and in the end of the aisle, Sugawara is standing, wearing a fancy three piece suit. He looks at me and... time just stops. Tear begins to roll down his cheeks... mine too. When I get there, he holds my hand, still crying, he says how he's elated that I'm with him. And I just 🥺

I know it got a bit self indulgent, but I couldn't help myself, because it's Sugawara. And I literally become like Monica from "Friends" when it comes to wedding. Like I have a pinboard full of ideas, wedding playlists, I've also decided what kind of invitations I want for my wedding...

I think I rambled enough. Have a beautifully nice day!

— from elle ! hi hi,, nope you're not too late :) there isn't really a deadline for this, you can pretty much send in stuff any time you want so no worries ! self-indulgent is also perfectly fine, reading what you sent in made me smile and ig part of the appeal of fanfic (and writing in general) is the escapism and imagining yourself in all these different scenarios. anyways, quick lil walking down the aisle drabble feat. a f!reader under the cut (as usual). tysm for this and i hope you are having a wonderful day. <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“calm down, everything’s going to be fine.” asahi tried to reassure, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder in a futile attempt to make him relax.

suga was currently sweating buckets, wringing his hands together in complete and utter nervousness. the ceremony was meant to start in just a couple of minutes and various questions invaded his mind: what if something goes wrong? what if you end up regretting saying yes to his proposal? what if you resent him for the rest of your lives? what if you don’t show up at all?

his train of thought was cut off by daichi shaking his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance once and for all, “the ceremony is about to start any second and you look like you’re about to run away—”

suga’s eyes widened, immediately cutting off his best man, “what? no i would never even think of doing that? do i really look that freaked out?”

“you do,” daichi laughed, shaking his head at suga, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“more than i can even imagine.”

“and she loves you,” daichi smiled, “you’re about to marry the love of your life. seconds from now, she’s going to walk through those doors and you’re going to ask yourself what you were so nervous for in the first place.”

suga nodded, letting out a breath. the beating of his heart was still as loud as it had been, maybe even more as he began to hear the familiar tune of a piano playing. but at least the butterflies in his stomach begin to settle, keeping his hands folded in front of him as the wedding party walked down the aisle.

the smile on his face widens as the flower girls walk down, throwing petals in each and every possible direction — some even threw them directly at the guests. of course, the crowd only cooed at them, thinking it was absolutely adorable. suga also gives quick little high five to the ring bearer after he had given them to best man, those who looked on swooned at the sweet little gesture.

the piano’s tune changes, the wedding march plays. the doors open to reveal you.

suga’s smile falters, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he muttered out a quiet, “woah.”

time stops; everyone and everything is an afterthought to you walking towards him. his entire world is making her way to where he was, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, in the most beautiful dress. you glowed, a smile on your face and a couple of escaping the corners of your eyes. the music has been reduced to a whisper that played in the back of his mind, the crowd nothing but a hazy blur. you’re the only thing in the room worth taking in at the moment.

suga wasn’t even aware that he had begun crying until daichi hands him a handkerchief, “told you so, buddy.”

you finally take your place in front of him, handing your bouquet to your maid of honor. your knees feel like they’re about to give in, seeing suga with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, taking in every single inch of you.

“hi.” you whispered, unsure of what exactly to say. there’s nothing but silence, that and shaky breathing and the pounding of your hearts. this is actually happening, there’s no turning back now.

suga takes your hands in his, thumbs gently brushing over the back of your hand, like he was trying to make sure that you were real; that you weren’t plucked straight out of his dreams, that any moment he’d wake up. he smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the process, “i'm the luckiest person on the planet.”

“no, i am.”

suga chuckled, shaking his head. daichi was right, what was he so nervous for in the first place? especially when there’s no one else he’d rather wait for at the end of the aisle. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[soartfullydone]

Excuse me. You--You must be Erosen's little one. My, how you've grown since I saw you last. Swaddled in whatever scraps your father could find. I apologize for my appearance. Drow are not... liked around here. I wished to formally introduce myself. I am Krelyss.

Ah, by that look I'm assuming that Erosen has done more than mention me in passing. He is a good man, your father. And to see him so happy, his daughter grown into such a lovely young woman. It... it almost makes this all worth it.

... Forgive me. I forget myself. It's been some time since I've been around such welcoming company. Thank you for indulging me, Riven. I'm glad to see that at least one choice I made in my life was the correct one.

The whetstone was all but forgotten in Riven's hand as Krelyss the man appeared from around a tree, hooded and cloaked but unmistakably real. No longer a myth or a story. This was the drow who had saved Da, who'd saved her own life. She hadn't expected his voice to be so soft, or to be weighted down with so much sadness. Riven had always imagined that their reunion would be a happy one, that she could finally buy Krelyss a whole alehouse and thank him properly for what he'd done for her. Hell, Del would insist if she didn't, but...

Krelyss' son, Zaresh. Da had told her what he knew, but the account hadn't touched the reality of it. Nothing ever would, Riven knew, not now that she saw how heavy the lines of regret were on Krelyss' face.

Slowly, she stood even though she had no risk of spooking him. Krelyss was a head taller, and at his "lovely young woman" comment, Riven couldn't help but look down self-consciously. She was dressed for moving under the cover of darkness. For midnight thievery and to slip a knife between ribs. She held such a knife and belatedly sheathed it, for the first time wishing she'd donned a fancy evening gown for some gobshite event instead. Anything to have felt like she'd earned the compliment. "I'm glad ya came by. I—" Riven started once Krelyss had finished, but how was she supposed to follow up? This wasn't the time for joy or joking. "I've been wanting to meet ya and to say thank ya, but..."

But that wasn't enough, not nearly enough. When Riven got close to him, she gave his upper arm a gentle but directing nudge. "It's too bright out here, for you. Let's go inside. Aye, ya can," she interrupted before he could argue. "It's our house, and we've no guests now. Even if we did, they could make peace with ya or leave. I mean, I'm half, too, y'know?" She was rambling, but he was walking with her, even if he looked like he still wanted to protest, not wanting to impose on them. As if everything she and Da had wasn't because of him. "Have ya had lavender tea before? Or chamomile or—you know what? I'll make everything. I wanted to talk to ya awhile anyway. No, not about her, the dark take her. No, it's about Zaresh, I..." The words had brought them across the threshold into the entryway, the front door closed behind them. Riven, in her hurry, had helped Krelyss out of his cloak, exposing his red eyes and gray skin to the room. Only his white hair was something that could be native to Lunhaven. Instead of hanging up the garment, she held it between her hands and worked up the courage to say what she'd been determined to say to him from the first. "I want to help ya find him," Riven said, "and I have the means to do it."

[bettsfic]

hi, i was reading your years in review and i noticed that you quit a job of many years to go your own way. i was wondering if you would mind talking about this decision/if you struggled with it? idk i've always told myself that i wouldn't let the idea of a "career" get in the way of what i want (e.g. writing) and that one day (shortly after 30?) i would just quit whatever job i had and go my own way, but as that deadline comes up i find it harder to imagine how i could just uproot myself...

yes, i very much did struggle with the decision to quit (what i thought was) my very stable and lucrative career in finance to get an MFA in creative writing. it’s a bit of a long story so i’m putting it under a cut.

warning for suicidality and sexual assault.

i used to believe i grew up poor, but it was the 90s so poverty looked very different. my dad didn’t work for a long time, and so we only had one income, and we lived in an apartment that was kind of a lowkey hoarder home. as a kid, all i knew was that i didn’t get to have toys, or my own space, and i wasn’t allowed to have friends over. the concept of an allowance was totally alien to me. but it also wasn’t like i ever went hungry. the food we had wasn’t particularly healthy but it was always there.

i didn’t really realize how much that instability affected me until much later, when i noticed other people hadn’t lived their entire lives aware of and obsessed with money. i used to compulsively count the change in my piggy bank and beg my mom to take it so she could pay her taxes (i didn’t know what taxes meant, i just assumed they were the reason we couldn’t afford nice things). 

my safe haven was always my grandparents’ house, which was clean and had semi-healthy food and the door was always open. my grandpa was a high school chemistry teacher. my grandma worked at a bank. growing up, i had no idea what she did at the bank, just that it sponsored all the fun things we did, like going to amusement parks and baseball games. my parents never took my sister and i on vacation, but every year, my grandma would drive us to visit our family in missouri, which, even though it only cost the gas to get there, seemed like a wild indulgence to me.

i started working at 16 so i could have my own money. by 17 i was working illegally full-time and getting paid under the table. then i bought my own car, and shortly after i turned 18 i got my own apartment. even though i could pay my bills, i was still terrified about money. i thought about it all the time. i checked my bank account multiple times a day. i was a cashier at a restaurant and i would often open my drawer and just stare at the money or count it when i was bored.

but i hated working at the restaurant, and one day i thought to myself, how can i keep the money part of this job but lose the food part? then i remembered my grandma’s career at the bank (from which by then she’d retired), and that afternoon i sat down and applied to be a teller at the very same bank. obviously the bank was very large and it wasn’t like my grandma was in management. she worked in ATM operations. nobody on my hiring committee knew who she was, and honestly i have no idea how i got the job.

i stayed a teller through college, working 25ish hours a week. it didn’t pay very well and i was still nervous about money, so i picked up a job altering bridal gowns on evenings and weekends, and also an admin job at my university. so i was working 60ish hours a week, plus going to school full-time and trying to keep up my 4.0. in retrospect, i can’t remember how necessary all this was. i know i was living in an apartment whose rent was higher than i could afford, and i lived with my boyfriend who was struggling to find a job. anyway, it was definitely the lowest time of my life, and i was so exhausted that every day i hoped something horrible would happen to me so i could be hospitalized and rest. 

then something horrible did happen. my dad died. and even though everyone in my life was telling me to please dear god take a break, i did not. 

i got promoted to business finance, which paid what seemed at the time to be an ungodly amount of money. i was still part-time and finishing up my undergrad degree. once i graduated, i got promoted to full-time. for the first couple years, i really did try to be a banker. i was good at my job only insofar as someone who is left-handed can write with their right hand if forced for long enough. it felt very much like i was in the wrong place, but by that point i had so much unchecked trauma that i had convinced myself the highest human ideal was misery and deprivation. i wish i was kidding. i was the definition of ascetic and martyred myself. i didn’t believe happiness existed. work was all that mattered to me.

then i bought a house. so at this point, i had student loans, a car loan, a mortgage, and credit card debt. after my dad’s death, my mom had to file for bankruptcy because of all the medical bills. she abandoned her house. by this point i was 23, single, in six figures of debt with no familial support net, but i was making decent money at the bank, so it wasn’t like i was drowning. in fact i was doing pretty well. the bank was a rock in my very turbulent life. i got a lot of vacation time that allowed me to travel a bit. i had insurance and a matching 401(k). it was really a decent job.

but the bank was also in many ways an abusive relationship. i don’t mean that metaphorically. i had bosses who manipulated me, insulted me, humiliated me in front of other people. i had one boss who went so far as to look at my checking account and ridicule my purchases. i didn’t have any idea what it meant to stand up for myself or say no. in fact i wasn’t allowed to say no. my job at the bank involved solving other people’s problems. i could never say “i can’t solve that problem.” i could only say “i’ll figure it out.”

i had convinced myself working at the bank was a stable career because it was boring and i hated it. but actually it wasn’t stable at all. after 2008, there were mass layoffs and restructures every year while the bank tried to recover from the recession. i worked for a sales team, and so my job was dependent entirely on whether or not the salespeople did their jobs well. if they didn’t make goal, they’d get fired. if they got fired, i’d get fired. 

i started trying to date again and was sexually assaulted. after that i really struggled at work because i was dissociating a lot and couldn’t focus. my team, despite my having worked there for years, instead of being concerned for me decided to start complaining about me to my boss. finally i had to tell a coworker what happened and that i wasn’t doing very well. my team started being a little nicer to me but ultimately they didn’t care about me, they cared about how effective i was at my job. my boss didn’t want to fire me, so instead i was pushed onto another team.

that move came with a raise. then that team was dismantled and i was pushed onto another team. that was a demotion, but i got to keep my raise from the previous move. by then, i was working from home, and even though i was more comfortable i was also very isolated and miserable. my “fulfillment through deprivation” attitude was destroying me. i wasn’t eating well or taking care of myself. i was isolated and lonely. i still didn’t believe happiness was real and i constantly thought about killing myself. 

but i had started writing fanfiction, and even though i didn’t think i was any good at it, i was beginning to see a way out. i was beginning to learn how to dream, and want things, and give myself the things i wanted. i just couldn’t imagine leaving the bank, or selling my house, or moving out of my hometown. all of that seemed impossible to me.

then i had to go to a business conference where my team had a retirement party for one of my coworkers. she’d done what i was doing for 45 years. by that point i was at the 9 year mark. i’d spent my entire adult life at the bank. and i realized: the bank benefited from my fear and passivity, and nothing in my life was going to change unless i was willing to make sacrifices. 

but i still wasn’t entirely convinced. and then came the day i had to physically hold onto my desk to keep me from killing myself. i didn’t end up trying it, because i had another realization: this was a life or death situation now. if i kept working at the bank, i knew i would die. i knew eventually i would get low enough to do it. i didn’t actually want to die; i wanted an escape and didn’t know what else to do. suddenly i was off the hook. my options were not “financial stability or imminent poverty” but “live or die.” 

those were the big epiphanies i had, but the process of actually leaving the bank was a slow one. i wrote a bit about it here. i got into an MFA program basically by telling myself repeatedly i would figure out the money stuff later. when it came time to quit the bank, my boss convinced me to stay on working part-time, with the assumption i would move back to full-time once i’d graduated. i agreed to it, because just trying to quit was enough to convince me i could, and that better things were ahead of me. for a year and a half, i stayed on working two days a week while doing my MFA, which involved both coursework and teaching, and it felt a bit like it did during undergrad, having too many jobs and no time to breathe or think or feel anything.

between my first and second year, i had a looooong overdue mental breakdown. there were a lot of causes, but one of them was spreading myself too thin. shortly after, i quit for good. by then it didn’t feel like a big deal at all, i was so far removed from the work and my team and so focused on my degree. one day i turned on my work laptop and the next day i didn’t. i shipped it back to HQ and it was over.

then i graduated from the MFA and suddenly had to face the consequences of this life i’d chosen. my school kept me on as an adjunct, but it felt like being a ghost. i no longer had the community of my cohort. i had no health insurance. i was given my teaching schedule and a contract to sign, that’s it. there was no guarantee i would be getting classes the following semester, and after a year, that was what happened. i remember sitting in my favorite coffee shop trying not to cry when i got the email that said the department had nothing for me to teach the following semester.

i really wasn’t the same after the breakdown. i went from “i can do anything i put my mind to no matter how hard it is or how much it hurts” to “i have to step carefully, and treat myself gently.” i hadn’t fully realized that yet, though, so i tried to get a Real Job. i got the first and only job i applied to, because i am bad at nearly everything but somehow i’m exceptional in interviews. it wasn’t a bank but it offered the same sort of benefits package. it was a full-time salaried position at a non-profit. if i had found it earlier, i think it would have been my dream job. it was the kind of work you throw yourself into because you care so much about doing good. 

i lasted a month. during the first week something happened that triggered me in a way i’m very rarely triggered. i realized i needed disability accommodations, but i needed to go to a doctor to get an assessment and i had to be on the team 60 days in order to get insurance. i thought i could white-knuckle it, and i could, sort of, but every minute i was at work, it felt like i was forced away from the thing i should have been doing. i was constantly trying to write a few paragraphs here and there on my phone when no one was looking. i had to find excuses to take breaks and go to my car and breathe. at one point i told a volunteer i was an english instructor, and she looked at me very confused, and i realized i’d said it in present tense, like it was part of who i was and not a job i did for a while. then finally, my breaking point was an after-hours function. when i left i saw a field full of fireflies and thought about how, if i’d just stayed home, i could have sat outside and enjoyed them all evening, not just a glance at them on the way to my car. i liked the job but it was making me miss all the things i’d learned to love about being alive.

i quit the next day. i’d sold my house by then (which was its own feat) and moved in with my grandma, which hadn’t been a possibility until my grandpa passed away the previous spring. i paid off my car. i figured out finally that i would probably never be able to work full-time again unless it was teaching, and that the downside to this life would be accepting fear and instability, only being able to look ahead one semester at a time. staying open to the opportunities that arise. being a little selfish. 

i wrote a bit more about the financial realities of the writing life here. i can’t tell you what you should do, because the path i took definitely isn’t the path for everyone, but i do believe we all owe it to ourselves to pursue our best and happiest lives, because we only get one, and there’s no reason not to live it the way you want to. 

[mgares]

HOW TO BUY A HOUSE - IN 3 EASY STEPS

There is a lot of confusion out there about how to become a Homeowner so I thought I would take a moment and put it into Average Joe speak. That, and in my experience, some people go about it totally backwards which is counter productive to the end goal.

STEP 1. - ASSESS YOUR FINANCES

This is fairly simple. Eliminate non-essentials from your spending budget and stick it in the piggy bank. Modify spending habits to generate savings. Make short-term lifestyle changes.

It's just temporary and if canceling monthly memberships (Netflix, Gyms, Any Subscriptions), adjusting your shopping habits [I got some great tips for this], or eliminating other non-essential spending allows you to keep more money in your pocket to get a home versus flushing rent dollars down the proverbial toilet? Bit of a no-brainer if you ask me.

Bottom line is you have to have money ready-to-hand for the transaction. Even with the "zero down" options like VA and some USDA loans; just to name a couple.

There are inspections, appraisals, escrow funds, repairs, home warranty policies, property taxes, closing costs, and other such considerations that must be paid in order to get a home of your own.

"Do Not Save What Is Left After Spending; Instead Spend What is Left After Saving" - Warren Buffett

Figure out what kind of a down payment your financial situation will allow for. The more, the better, but very few people I know got 20% of the purchase price [a.k.a. - conventional/bank loan] sitting around collecting dust. Good news is you don't necessarily have to have that much.

One of the most common loans is a FHA that only asks for 3-5% down AND there are down payment assistance programs out there if you are really Stuck Like Chuck when it comes to finances. NOTE: This does NOT mean they are going to give you ALL of your down payment; you gotta have some chips in that poker game too.

I like to recommend that people shoot for at least 6-8% of the purchase price of the "kind of home they want" just to make sure all the bases are covered - down payment AND cost(s) of the transaction. Folks, that's a lesser down payment than Owner Finance options for the same "kind of home" as Owners generally ask for 10-15% down.

This total can be a combination of self-savings, down payment assistance, assets that can be used as collateral against the loan, monetary or tangible gifts from friends/family members in some few cases, and more.

Each person is unique and different in how that 6-8% manifests and lenders can vary in what form(s) of down payment they will accept.

EXAMPLE:

Purchase Price: $150k

FHA Down Pymt (3-5%): $4,500 - $7,500

Other Cost(s): (3% +/-): $4,500

Total Savings Needed: $9,000 - $12,000

Kill some bills, sell your "junk" - we all got crap laying around the house we don't use worth money in various amounts - and modify spending habits in a positive manner.

If you are a two car family... can you get by with just one vehicle on a temporary basis [turn that car, and its bills, "into" a house]? Perhaps you have a skill set or piece of equipment that can earn you extra cash here and there on your terms? What changes to your lifestyle can you make that will put another dime or dollar into that kitty bucket?

Finally, do whatever it is you need to do to put those greenbacks into a savings method you can stick with. Whether that is a traditional banking institution or an old shoe box under the bed; you do you. If this means you have to ask someone in a position of trust to hold it so you don't spend it? Guess what you should consider doing?

STEP 2. - TALK TO LENDERS

Let's talk about the "When" of contacting a lender. The only true answer to "When" is... When You Are Ready and only you know how Ready you feel.

I've had clients express the sheer dread they felt about reaching out to a lender and it's an understandable fear. One of my people even said that they felt applying to lenders and having them see their credit condition was akin to stripping naked in front of a total stranger.

But, and as I told my client... think of it like going to the doctor for a full physical exam. Hospital gown over your birthday suit and all. Lenders are professionals there to do a job. They do NOT judge or speculate just because they have intimate knowledge of or about you.

If you suspect you may have some homework to do, credit wise, then it's better to contact a lender sooner rather than later. This allows you to get a game plan together and knock out credit related targets while you are saving funds for your down payment goal. Once completed, you are able to resume your application with confidence moving forward.

"Everything You Want Is On The Other Side of Fear" - Jack Canefield

However, if you are one of the few who feel their credit profile will be a "non-issue" then my suggestion becomes waiting to speak to lenders until you have most, if not all, of your down payment goal met.

When applying to a lender always ask if they perform a Soft or Hard inquiry against your credit report. Most of the lenders I know [and I will list two of my favorites for you here in a second] will execute a Soft Credit Inquiry to determine credit worthiness. This Soft Inquiry does not impact or affect your credit score - should such be a matter of concern to you.

Something else I've noticed is that people don't seem to understand shopping for lender is very much like shopping for an automobile. The overall requirements of any one particular lender (or dealership) can be totally different from a fellow lender's (or dealership's).

Just because one says "No" does not mean they will all will say "No". And even if the first lender tells you "Yes"... I would still encourage you to apply to more than one who does Soft Inquiries. Compare apples to oranges to find the best fit for your home purchasing needs by reviewing interest rates, terms of repayment, mutual rights and remedies, and so on and so forth.

Only after you have secured lender approval (which may be conditional based on various factors) and they have given you the green light to shop up to the amount of $X.00 do you move on to Step 3.

STEP 3 - FIND YOUR REALTOR

The vast majority of the population feels the path to homeownership is "finding the home and then buying it" - through a Real Estate agent. This is NOT the case.

Selecting an agent to help navigate you through the complexities of The Offer and Purchase process is the absolute LAST step to be taken.

What Happens When You Do It Backwards:

You shop for, and find, that PERFECT place and then reach out to an an agent or contact the website that is listing that property. The agent involved determines you haven't spoken with a lender and may now recommend one to get the process started.

Just to let you know... most of us agents are unable to do much of anything at this point without your having secured a lender first. There are some agents out there who are also qualified mortgage consultants but I, personally, haven't met one yet so I don't know how they work.

At this point the agent may also put you on an e-mailer list that scouts the MLS's and regularly sends you properties "matching" the ideal home that you originally asked about.

Why?

Because "that home may not still be there when you are in a position to buy". That's agent speak for... this is gonna take a bit of second and that property will most likely have sold by the time we get you lender approved.

I can't emphasize enough the fact that we agents don't "GET" you that house - the lender does that by providing the loan to pay for it. Us agents help you shop for a home and protect your best interests when buying it.

We deal with the butt-ton of technical paperwork coming/going from every which-a-way at all hours of the day, manage the contract negotiations, handle scheduling and execution of services by professional providers involved in the transaction, are your personal defacto counselor/moral support during the stress mess of buying, and more. None of which can be done until a lender gives us the green light to begin.

Well, most folks aren't mentally or emotionally prepared to reach out to said lender on the fly like this. Fears of "what that lender will see" or personal misgivings about "not qualifying" due to credit condition can halt the whole process at this point. Perhaps leaving you with negative emotions about the whole experience thus far.

But, for the sake of argument let's say you muster up the courage to reach out to a lender anyway. You'll discover that they are people too - most with a generous heart and helpful personality.

You might even discover that your credit was nowhere near as bad as you had built it up in your mind to be. Or, the lender may come back with a little homework for you. Take care of This and That and we'll be able to get you into a home.

The "whammy" of doing it in reverse order like this is that the lender will also share that you will need X thousands of dollars as a down payment to make that happen. Talk about a case of sticker shock!

Obviously, this can be discouraging and disheartening. To overcome one obstacle only run smack dab into another you weren't prepared to tackle? It may start to feel like you are looking up the side of a mountain, the goal of owning a home clearly in your line of sight, but you lack the climbing equipment (not to mention the funds to acquire such) to reach the summit.

It may feel like "that's it, game over" at this point. I know because I, too, approached home ownership azz-backwards like this before I became a Realtor. Felt like someone had ripped a bit of my soul away and left me frustrated and crying inside my heart and mind.

DON'T give up on yourself or your dream of home ownership. Back up, regroup, and attack that goal again. This time, in the correct sequence of events.

"You May Have To Fight A Battle More Than Once To Win It" - Margaret Thatcher

Do this and I promise you that there will be no better feeling in the world than those you experience at the closing table when you are finally handed the keys to your very own home.

Disclaimer: Opinion Editorial for educational and/or informational purposes. Content presented is deemed accurate and/or reliable at the time of authorship. Any errors or omissions present in material(s) are unintentional. You are encouraged to execute your own research.

[hold-your-applause]

Oh my goodness I just found your blog and your writing is so amazing!! I've read all your stuff and I noticed your blog is suffering a distinct lack of the best boy Shinjiro Aragaki (0///0) Could I possibly request pining Shinji with a crush mustering up the courage to ask reader out? I'm really so happy to have found a blog where Persona 3 requests are ok ;u;

You are absolutely right, my dear. Let us remedy that together, hmm?

Second Chances

Finding himself in a hospital bed wasn't what surprised him.

It was more the fact that he woke up in the first place.

He was so certain he would die in that back alley that he never even entertained the possibility that he wouldn't. Now he found his mind empty as it attempted to process too many things at once.

The first thing he noticed was his chest hurting. That made sense, since the last thing he remembered was someone putting a bullet in it. He tried to push himself up more to sit up properly, not liking how weak and tired his body felt as it seemed to fight him the entire way.

The next thing he noticed was that the lights to the room were still fully on. But as far as he could tell, he was alone. Maybe a nurse came to check on him or something.

He let out a breath when he was finally sitting upright. He looked down at the gown covering his chest, carefully moving the top of it aside to take a look.

The dressing and bandaging must have been freshly changed; they were white and pristine. Not a trace of blood anywhere.

Well, now what?

He looked at the bedside table, taking note of the time: 5:47 PM. At the very least he'd been out for almost a whole day, but it was more likely longer than that. Should he even expect anyone to come by if it was?

The flowers next to the clock seemed pretty lively. Someone had been by recently. So maybe not.

He wasn't sure what he would say if anyone stopped by to see him, anyway. He had made sure to leave behind no regrets, so even his emotional affairs were all in order.

He noticed the note attached to the flowers and grunted as he tried to reach over the bar to take a look at the name.

"They're from me."

Oh.

Okay, so not every emotional affair.

You were stood in the doorway, smiling calmly at him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You'll be here longer if you pull your stitching."

"I'd like to see them make me."

You blew air out of your nose in amusement, stepping into the room. Your eyes never left his as you moved to the side of his bed, hands in your pockets.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" He asked, leaning back to his resting position.

You hummed in faux thoughtfulness. "Wasting my time." You replied.

"You have a bad habit of doing that."

"So you keep telling me." You pulled out a hand from one of your pockets, resting it on the bar in front of you. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

He scoffed. "How'd that even happen?"

"It was pure luck, really." You shook your head. "The doctor told us he shot you right where you kept your watch." You patted yourself on the chest where his own wound was. "It took the brunt of it and stopped it from reaching anything critical. It was still serious, but it was more a question of when you'd wake up than if."

His watch.

The one you found at the police station and returned to him just a few nights earlier.

The one he kept right over his heart as his own way of being close to you, because he kept insisting the real thing wasn't meant for him.

Because he was going to die.

He knew you knew how he felt. You were too damn smart for your own good. But you humored him when he insisted on keeping his distance from you. He had thought it would make things easier and the stupid fluttering in his chest would eventually go away.

But right now, there was actual evidence of it when the monitor changed its steady beeping, totally giving him away.

"Stop looking so proud of yourself."

"Me? Never." Your sideways smile told a different story, making him want to roll his eyes.

"Well... thanks. I owe you." His eyes darted down to your hand on the bar as it moved, reaching up to brush his unruly hair out of his face.

"I've got an idea of how you can make it up to me." You said, eyes still trained on his face.

He closed his eyes as your fingers danced over the skin of his cheek and moved down to his chin, gently tilting it up.

He took a moment, wishing he could put his axe through the heart monitor as it beeped unevenly as he tried to steady his nerves. He finally opened his eyes and met your gaze, his own hand meeting yours to carefully hold.

Even though he was the one in the hospital bed, he was trying not to worry about possibly breaking you.

"I didn't think there was a point before. I always knew things wouldn't end well for me, so I thought it would be better to leave it unsaid." His thumb gently ran over your palm before moving your hand to gently rest it on his face. "But since you stuck your nose in my business and put that off for a little while, I guess I should use this chance to do it anyway."

You smiled again, stroking your own thumb over his cheek, silently urging him to continue.

"I love you. Damn it... I always did. Even when you did everything I asked to try to stop it. You still managed to make it happen."

You blinked when both his hands were cradling your face.

"And I'm glad you did."

You had to grab the bar with your free hand to keep yourself from losing your balance as he practically dragged you down, only stopped by the force of his mouth against yours. The cold air of the hospital room seemed to evaporate with the sudden heat he created in just an instant. He felt your breath die in your throat before he felt you moving, your hand gripping the front of his gown to help ground yourself. One of his hands moved into your hair, using it to keep you anchored right where he wanted you.

You two only broke away for a moment to allow yourself to climb over the bar, neither of you caring about the consequences you'd have to deal with later when you were inevitably caught.

None of that mattered now that he had another day, and another chance, with you.

[it-me-ari]

Some fluffy Gabriel stuff idk

Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I've decided to try this thingie called "selfshipping" or something idk man. Anyway, this is me writing about me and Gabriel, it's gonna be cringey pls don't judge. (Also please note that my english is not the best so there will be mistakes)

At the risk of angering Crowley by stealing his line, I entered the room with a casual, very british "Hello boys" to Sam and Dean, who just came back from a hunt. Both of them looked up and smiled tiredly and greeted me with warm hugs, which was much appreciated by me, I love hugs. After they told me everything about the hunt, while eating the chilli I made them, I sent them to shower and get some rest. When they were finally asleep I went up to my room in the bunker and looked at the photos at the wall, that showed me and my old friends during happier times.

I've been hunting with the Winchesters for almost a year now and somehow we became family, after all they're all I've got now. They picked me up after a pack of werewolves killed my friends during our first vacation without our parents. I only survived because I could hide long enough for Sam and Dean to arrive and kill them all. After they explained everything I was determined to became a hunter too and begged the brothers to teach me, they agreed after I used my puppy eyes. I was never exactly close to my parents so I didn't bother telling them that I went hunting monsters with two strangers, it's not like they would notice my disappearance anyway.

On the following evening I heard the boys talking to an unfamiliar voice coming in library when I returned from grocery shopping. I was very curious to see who they were talking to but I turned to the kitchen first and refilled our stocks. Then I went to the library, where I found Sam and Dean talking to a man with blonde hair, wearing an old jean combined with a leather jacket, that was all I noticed, since he had his back turned to me. And also he wasn't very tall. Before I could say anything Sam looked up and smiled: "Hey Angel." They called me 'Angel', like some of my friends used to, because my real name was too long for them. The stranger turned around and eyed me curiously. Damn he was handsome, I didn't expect this. "And who is this cutie?" he asked the brothers with a playful smile, while he kept looking at me. I was probably supposed to blush or giggle in a cute way, like girls always did when a good looking guy made them a compliment. Instead I just smiled akwardly and looked away. "Thanks" I murmured and left the introductions to the Winchesters. Not that I wasn't flattered or happy that pretty boy thought I was cute, I just didn't know how the react properly, since I wasn't really used to being complimented. The moment unknown dude called me 'cute' a frown appeared on Dean's forehead and he was about to put the stranger in his place when Sam stepped in with a polite smile to avoid a fight. "Angel, this is the archangel Gabriel, he's a friend. Gabriel, this is Angel, she's family." Before anyone could say something Dean interrupted: "which means you are not allowed to call her cute or try anything funny under my watch! Do we understand each other?!" he growled, narrowing his eyes. Gabriel was unfaced by the thread, instead he threw a sassy grin at him. "What if you're not watching? I could arrange that, if you want?" Dean rolled his eyes and moved a little closer to me. "You know how I meant that." That was all he said, it wasn't necessary to say more. "Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Angel." Gabriel finally said and gave me his hand with an adorable smile.

"Nice to meet ya too." I answered shyly and shook his hand, I couldn't look hin in the eyes for more than a few seconds. Finally he turned away from me and sat down on one of the armchairs standing around. The brothers and I sat down on the large couch, standing next to the chair. Somehow I ended up between Sam and Dean, with Dean still throwing threatening glances at Gabriel, who didn't seem to care or was even amused by that. "Then let's get back to business, shall we? I am here for a reason after all." Gabriel asked in a cheerful voice and beamed at the rest of us. The next few minutes he explained the details of a possible case near Washington DC. I was quiet most of the time while the boys discussed the case, I just threw in a few facts every now and then. Finally we decided to let the topic rest until the next day and Dean pulled out a bottle of whisky from god knows where, to fill our glasses. The rest of the evening was spent with casual conversation. To my surprise I got along with Gabriel, or Gabe (as he insisted I should call him), very well. After my second glass of strong scottish whisky I finally found the courage to talk to him and didn't stop. Luckily one of us was responsible *coughs* Sam *coughs* and took away my glass before I got too drunk. This way it was a very nice evening that got me a new friend. "I think I'll go to sleep now" I finally said, unable to stop myself from yawing every five minutes. I got up without staggering (I was almost sober after all but still, it was an accomplishment) and looked around with a tired smile. "I'll escort you to bed, if that's okay?" Offered Gabriel perfectly polite and with another adorable smile. Dean didn't look too happy about it but he let it slide, thanks to Sam whispering something in his ear. Meanwhile I looked at Gabe with a confused expression. "Uhhh sure.." I finally answered and nodded slowly, not sure what exactly was going on. Gabriel just smiled and took my arm, together we walked to my bedroom. "You stay outside while I change." I ordered hin with a stern gaze. "Of course! What do you think of me?!" Gabe responded, fake offended and with a mischievous spark in his eyes. I just rolled my eyes playfully and shut the door to change into my night gown. When I was finished I sat down on my bed, ready to sleep, as a wild idea crossed my mind. "Gabe?" I called, hoping the angel would still stand in front of my door. "Yes?" Was the immediate response, followed by Gabriel sticking his head through a half opened door. "Would you mind staying with me while I sleep? Like in my bed?" I asked and blushed like, embarrassed with myself. He actually looking a tad surprised at my request at first but that only lasted a few seconds, then he smiled gently. "Like cuddeling?" He asked in a low voice and came closer to me. I just nodded, still embarrassed, I felt very needy, asking a man I met only a couple of hours ago to cuddle. Gabriel's smile broadened as he layed down beside me, wrapping his arms around me. Very carefully I layed my head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart until I fell asleep.

[shawnpetermuffins]

No Prior Engagement

(The outfits in the photo are not what's described in the story, but I liked the picture.)

A/n: To make this easier to write, I'm just going to use places that pertain to me - make it less confusing when I'm writing and while you're reading. You can find the "next part" in my March Mendes Madness Masterlist under 03.25

Summary: this is what happened before Shawn's minor slip up at an awards show.

***

My phone buzzes on my desk and I sigh, looking up from my study guide. 2:32 a.m. my phone read.

Bubba 💞

"Shawn, it's late. Are you okay?"

"Let's get married," he says out of the blue.

"What? Are you drunk?"

"No," he answers seriously. "I just don't want to wait anymore. Why should we have to? We're in love, right?"

"Well, yes. But-"

"I want to marry you. Right now. I want a house with you. I want kids with you. I want us to make grocery lists together. And I was just laying here in bed and I realized how much it fucking sucks falling asleep without you. And I know that I can't be anymore in love with you than I am right now. I want to marry you," he says and takes in a deep breath.

I didn't know what to think. We've talked about this, sure, but it always for when I got out of school.

"What do you say, pumpkin?"

"I want all of that, too," I start. "But I'm still in school. We can't let our first year and a half basically be long distance - even more so than usual, it would seem."

He sighs, "I thought you'd say that. Which is why I should tell you... I bought us a house in San Angelo. It's on the lake, like you've always told me you wanted. I'm ready to move down there with yoh if you tell me that you'll marry me."

My eyes burn with tears, maybe because it was so late and I was running on a total of three hours of sleep, or maybe it was because of the craziness of his request. "You're sure about this?" I take in a sputtery breath. "Like you really want to marry me? You want to spend the rest of your life with me of all people?"

"I do. And I already asked your dad. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of us doing this so young, but I promised it wouldn't interfere with your studies and that we'd stay here until you've graduated. He said that as long as you said yes, then so did he. So? What do you say, y/n? Will you marry me?"

I giggle - this time I know, for a fact, it's because of the absurdity of the situation. I'm talking to my boyfriend of three years at 2:30 in the morning, and he's asking me to marry him. I have an exam in two days that I should be studying for, but my guide sits abandoned on my desk while I pace the room back and forth. "This is absolutely insane. You know that right?"

"Is this your way of saying yes?" He asks, his voice hopeful.

I bite back the smile that transforms my face, "yes," I whisper.

His laugh is so soft and happy, and I blush because I made that laugh happen. "I'll make all the arrangements. Come Saturday afternoon, you will be my wife."

"Whoa. That fast?"

"Yes," I know he nodded on the other side. "I told you I didn't want to wait anymore. Now go get some sleep, you can study in the morning. Right now, though, I want my fiancé to be well rested."

I shake my head, "I love you," I say in pure bliss.

"Good night, future wife. I love you more."

"Good night, future husband. I love you most."

---

"You're sure you're okay with not having a huge wedding?" Shawn asked outside the courthouse.

I look down at my outfit, black shirt, cream skater like skirt - the bottom hem littered with flowers - And black stilettos that I was already ready to slip out of. I'd always imagined a big flowy white gown, but when I look over at Shawn - dressed in a white button up, a few buttons naturally undone, and signature black jeans and Chelsea boots. He looked perfectly content just like that and I couldn't ask for more. I didn't need the big fancy wedding as long as I had the man of my dreams standing next to me.

"I'm okay," I say finally, taking his hand in mine. "I just want to marry you already. I don't care how."

He caresses my knuckles and leans in to press a sweet kiss to my lips. I hum in acknowledgement and kiss back, placing my free hand behind his neck. "Then let's go do this."

---

Everyone we want it here. Our parents, siblings, Andrew, the band, my aunt and uncle, my two best friends, Josiah, and Brian. This is all I needed.

"Shawn, if you would..."

My beautiful boy clears his throat, "y/f/n y/m/n, I may not have known you my whole life, but it definitely feels as if I have. In these three years we've been together, I've watched you grow into this beautiful, confident young woman who I am so lucky to have by my side through my crazy, fast paced life." He clears his throat, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I never thought the day would come when I met someone who's soul matched mind. You're my other half, pumpkin. I know a million little things about you and I can't wait to learn a million more. I love you more than should be humanly possible. The way you do your nails every Sunday afternoon, like clockwork. How you scrunch up your face when you're annoyed. The way your laugh, when it's completely real, fills up a room with nothing but brightness."

I giggle through the threatening tears. Shawn wipes away the one straggler tear. "The way you'd probably rather do anything but watch Harry Potter for the hundredth time, but you sit through it anyway because you know it's my favorite. I'm just... I'm so in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I am. You are my forever person and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He catches a couple more of my fallen tears and I melt at the soft gesture.

"Y/n?"

I take in a shuddery breath, "I don't know entirely what to say. I tried writing down how I felt about you a billion times. I tried writing these vows the second we got off the phone the other night. There are not enough words in the English language to tell you how I feel. But I know that my entire being is on fire with just the brush of your hand against mine. Shawn, I fell in love with you when all you were to me was an international pop star, who had no idea u even existed. I was about sixteen then. And then god put you in my path when I was seventeen and I haven't turned back since. When we met, I didn't meet Shawn Mendes: superstar. I just met Shawn: a regular guy just living his life. There was never this moment of celebrity to fan; it was instantly friend to friend."

He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and I can't help but smile. "You make it entirely too easy to love you. And I do. More than anyone else in the world. I can't believe how lucky I was to find my other half at only seventeen, and to be standing here, three years later, completely giving myself to you. I love you more than you will ever know, bubba, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

---

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

"Finally," Shawn mumbles, pulling me against his hard chest. His large hands rest on my cheeks and kisses me with so much love and passion. I laugh into the kiss and pull away. "You're my world, Mrs. Mendes," he whispers into my hair, holding me tight.

I bury my head into his chest, "I have never loved my name more than I do in this moment."

He hums, "I love you so much."

---

Shawn stands up, holding his wine glass. "I would like to propose a toast to my beautiful wife," he stops and smiles for a second. "Guys, I get to say that for the rest of my life. That's- wow, that's the greatest gift I could ever receive." The whole table awes, the women, of course placing their hands over their heart. "I just want to say that I am so lucky to have found you when I did. And even more lucky that you agreed to marry me. I fall more and more in love with you every day. Y/n, baby you are my biggest blessing, and I could not be more grateful for our time together. Now, let's go change your name to Mendes on everything."

We all laugh, but he I know he's serious. Bevause I've been thinking the same thing since I said 'I do.'

He leans down and pecks my lips gently. I hum and pull away as he sits back down. "You're the perfect human being," I whisper, taking his hand in mine. I bring it to my lips and smile at the single silver band that now decorates his left ring finger.

Brian stands next. "Well, I too would like to say a few kind words about the happy couple."

"Oh no," Shawn and I say in unison.

"Y/n, when you guys first met, I knew that Shawn had met his soul mate. It was undeniable, the chemistry between you two. Everyone thought you were moving too fast, and I hate to admit that for a second there, I thought so too. But then I realized, there was no other pace for you guys to go. And you couldn't be moving that fast, when it took six months for you guys to say 'I love you.'" I laugh at that. "Your relationship began at such an awkward time for the both of you. But you shoved any doubt that anyone had away and you powered through. And now here you are, three years down the road, married. I'm so proud to be able to call you both my best friends."

Everyone takes turns toasting us, and it's all beautiful, but I just really wanted to be alone with my husband.

A couple more hours pass before we're back in my car, Shawn takes my hand and just stares at it for a while.

"What are you doing, bubba?"

He looks up at my through cloudy eyes, "You're my wife," he says, barely above a whisper. "God, I'm so lucky."

"Shawn, are you crying?" I reach for his face with my free hand. His eyes are red as he stares at me. "Why are you crying, hon?"

"Because we're married. I'm married to the love of my life. I don't- I don't think I could ever be any happier than I am today. Today was better than any show I've ever played, any award I've ever won, and place I've ever been. Today is the absolute greatest day of my life."

***

I hope you enjoyed this fluff. Next and final part will be up on Wednesday!

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