#but then look like they have foundation/concealer on in their more formal fits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captainderyn · 3 years ago

Note

22. From the 101 ways to say I love you ♡

Thank you so much for the ask @elveny ! I was very excited to take on this prompt for Ryn and Garrus lol.

(This is cross posted on AO3 (CaptainDeryn) )

Prompt 22: "Let me fix your hair."

Ryn didn’t make a habit of looking fancy.

She already put in enough effort every day putting on her armor and dealing with the stress of one mission after another. In the off chance she got a day to relax, she wasn’t going to waste precious time and energy on looks.

If she could get away with sweatpants and a crop top, her hair thrown up into a messy bun, then she damn well would. It didn’t matter where she was going: if they could handle Commander Shepard in her armor, then they could handle her in these civvies.

Maybe, if others were lucky, she would put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Maybe a sweater if she was feeling crazy.

The rare exception she made was for Garrus. For him, and for their planned date with two full days of shore leave, she dug through her meager clothes she had with her on the Normandy to pull out something exceptional.

Garrus, she decided, as she wrestled herself into something far beyond what she usually considered acceptable for off-duty, was the luckiest of all aboard the Normandy.

Together they’d decided their date night was going to treat the other right. In reality, they’d both suggested the same upscale restaurant when they’d been brainstorming ideas. Supposedly it had the best view on the Citadel, and if Shepard gave away all the cards in her hand: she wanted the chance to see Garrus clean up nice without the stress of a formal gathering.

Of course, after some bickering back and forth about who was treating who right, they’d settled on splitting the check fifty-fifty. And most likely getting one of the food vendors on the lower levels, the real best food on the Citadel, as the night wore on.

Ryn made a face at herself in the mirror as she finished her eyeliner. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the chance to willingly put on a full face of makeup and her eyeliner showed it. If she wiped off her attempt one more time no amount of concealer would hide the red blotchiness that would stain her pale skin.

Good enough, she decided, doing one final inspection in the mirror.

A full face of makeup was probably a strong word. She was too rusty to do anything too exuberant and she hated hiding her freckles too much to cake on enough foundation to hide the realities of being an N7 and fighting a war on her skin.

She’d managed a smokey black and gold look to make the grey of her eyes pop and piercing and put on a dark red lip without too many makeup wipe casualties to fix mistakes, that was a win in her book.

There were, of course, a few bruises from their last mission to hide on her face from where she’d so elegantly cracked her helmet into a rock in a graceless throw from a biotic. They weren’t perfectly covered, but she hoped they would be good enough in the harsh lighting of the Citadel to avoid any questions.

The real struggle was figuring out what to do with her hair. Her go to hairstyles were down and messy, a messy bun, or a messy ponytail. The most refined thing she’d done with her hair over the last year since Saren was put it in a bun that fit Alliance marine regulations.

She’d spent far too long after her shower laying on her bed in a towel scrolling the extranet for inspiration. She’d finally settled on something she figured was within her rusty skill set.

As she’s taken a curling wand and elastic bands to her hair, she’d missed the days when she was in her twenties and going out every few nights, where her makeup and hairstyling skills had become second nature.

Now, at thirty-two with more combat tours than nights out under her belt recently, she was thrilled with the simple curled half up-half down look she pulled off.

She didn’t look too shabby, and she gave herself a confidence boosting smile and thumbs up.

All she had to do tonight was be a civilian.

She pulled her black heels on and called Garrus up to her quarters. It was better than roaming around the ship looking for him and dealing with the rabblerousing of her crew. While she’d gone through the attempted effort of painting her nails, another luxury she hadn’t had in a long time, she didn’t want to show them off by flipping off her crew.

It didn’t take long for Garrus to knock on her door, and she let him in, stepping back to admire him.

Blatantly so, not trying to hide the way her eyes roamed.

He did in fact, clean up quite nice.

Quite nice indeed.

She hummed in approval, eyes drifting over the well fitted trousers and dark navy shirt that hugged his body. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the shirt unbuttoned at his collar.

Garrus gave her a charming smile as he walked up to her, eyes also roving across her body in turn.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t dressed to get a reaction. Where was the fun in wearing the same old business-formal black and red dress she wore for formal functions? The whole point of tonight was to be civilians.

And this dress certainly was not in regs.

While the dress was floor length, both sides were slit up to her hipbone, revealing a scandalous amount of her skin. The dress had sleeves yes, but the neckline dipped down to below her breasts.

And Ryn had spent far too long finagling the dress so that she wouldn’t accidentally reveal them to the public. The potential headlines had tormented her for the entire time she’d been getting ready. Not that Garrus needed to know that.

Garrus leaned down to kiss her, innocent enough, but his hands ran up her hips, catching at the slit fabric and pulling it up. He made a noise somewhere between excitement and surprise and pulled back enough to look at her again.

“Is this a human’s way of seducing?” he asked in amusement.

“Perhaps,” Ryn shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest to accentuate the lack of fabric there. Turians, of course, would not have the same reaction as humans to her show, but that didn’t matter. Too much confidence was coursing through her veins to really care. She was reveling too much in her own self-image to particularly care about his reaction. “Is it working?”

“Oh, there are multiple things about you right now that are working.” There was still a slight rumbling chuckle in Garrus’ words, and she shot him a look, “You want something.”

She contemplated and then gave him a wicked smile, “I want you to kiss me.”

Garrus’ hands curled more tightly around her hips. A small thrill went through her as he ducked his head, pausing just before their mouths met, “Do you?” his breath whispered across her skin and goosebumps prickled on her arms.

Breath catching, she licked her lower lip, “I really do.”

She reaped the energy that she sowed as her back connected with the cold glass of the wall length fish tank and Garrus’ mouth met hers in a fiery kiss. His hands pressed her back against the tank and a gleeful laugh broke from her between breaths at the thrill that went through her.

She draped her arms across his shoulders, her hands resting against the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

They could miss dinner; she really didn’t mind if they missed dinner.

A date night in was as much of a date night.

Garrus gave her one last long kiss and went to move back. Ryn caught him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and yanked him right back for another kiss.

He laughed, the sound bright and merry in her ears before he wrestled himself away. When her grabby hands went for him again, he grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head.

From the sly grin he gave her, it was entirely intentional. Ryn squirmed against his grip.

“You are causing trouble.” His attempted sternness failed to meet its mark.

Ryn looked him up and down once, “Yeah.” she agreed. Then offered him a sweet smile, “You should join me in causing it.”

Garrus’ head dipped with a sigh that was more a breathy laugh and released her. He took a step towards the door and motioned for her to follow, giving a low chuckle as she stuck her lower lip out in a pout,

“We already have a reservation. At least let me treat you to food and drinks before I…treat you to other things.”

He made a face as he stumbled, as if he cringed at the words that slipped from his mouth. Ryn gave a bright, full bodied laugh and hooked her arm into his.

“We will treat each other.” she corrected, kissing his cheek. Without her heels she was nearly as tall as Garrus. Wearing them, she was just a smidge above eye-to-eye with him.

She led him out the door, tossing a coy glance over her shoulder, “Besides, I want to flaunt a little bit. Put aside being Commander Shepard for a while.”

Garrus tugged her to a stop just before she slipped through the doorway, pulling her back to face him. With a gentle touch he brushed away strands of red hair that had fallen across her forehead and reached up to tighten the ponytail that kept half her hair up.

“Stop squirming,” he chastised, “and let me fix your hair.”

“I’m excited.” Ryn complained, beaming up at him, “I can’t help it.”

Garrus shook his head at her with a laugh and slipped his hand into hers, finally leading her out the door and to the Normandy’s elevator. As the elevator shuttled them to the command deck, Garrus’ eyes didn’t leave her.

“You look stunning, Ryn.” he said, and she couldn’t help the blood that rushed to her cheeks.

The view from the topmost level of the restaurant might well be the best view on the Citadel, Ryn decided during dinner.

Their table was a simple, dark wood two-person table. Above them patio lights glimmered with warm light. It was beautiful, but the real awe began when she looked up.

From between the arms of the Citadel, space swirled above them. Stars blinked in massive swaths, dark black of far space and near space blending together like paint on an artist’s palette. It was mesmerizing and the same call to be among the stars that had drawn her to the Alliance tugged in her chest.

As beautiful as the view was, it couldn’t hold her attention for long. Garrus kept too much of it in the way the light caught in the planes of his face and the way his hand stayed on her thigh. In the way their conversation was easier than breathing and her laughter fell from her like renewing spring rain.

They dined on fancy food and fine drinks until the call of the night swept them up and brought them to the lower levels of the Citadel. Where they walked arm in arm, orders from one of the food trucks in their hands until they found a bench to sit on.

Where Ryn took off her heels and let out a sigh of relief as her aching feet thanked her. Garrus swept up her legs and set them across his lap, laughing along with her when she almost slipped off the bench.

Until the wild urges of the night took over and they were swept to their feet by the strings of music slipping from the restaurants and clubs all around them and danced in the courtyard. Not the sort of elegant dancing or the feral dancing of a club, but simply moving together and moving to the music.

Until their laughter created their own music and Garrus’ hands were cupping her face and hers were looped around his shoulders. Until he leaned in to kiss her and she leaned into it. Until his hands slid into their hair he had so carefully fixed and tousled it with his touch.

Until their unabashed joy underneath the whorls of stars became the best view on the Citadel.

#captainderyn writes #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #femshep x garrus #shakarian #garrus vakarian #femshep #commander shepard #oc: Ryn Shepard #otp: Keep Me Grounded #looks like this is a Ryn/Garrus blog now sorry guys #I've written more fanfic for them in the past 3 months than in the past two years of any other fic combined #i think this is the most fic I've written since delavairess and I parted ways #and it feels WONDERFUL

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

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Oooh! Prompts! Remus and Sirius moving in together please! 💛

Notes: Thank you SO SO much gorgeous<3 I’m like kinda embarrassed that this is kinda shit, especially because you’re writing is so fucking gorgeous, so I’m sorry.

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars | Send Me A Prompt

“YOU!”

With a start that almost makes him drop the vase in his hands, Sirius turns around to find his surly looking boyfriend glaring daggers straight at him, lips pursed and nose wrinkled ever so fetchingly. “Me?”

“You!”

“ Is this a Muggle game of semantics or something Moons, because for the life of me I’m not following.”

Remus’s glower only deepens, radiating a distinct sort of disapproval that could only ever be honed in by years of prefectness. “You thief!” He squawks, hands perched on his hips, and mouth twisted up mutinously.

“Is this the part where you say I stole your heart?” Sirius goads with a cocked brow, resuming their unpacking. “Because love, that line gets old after the millionth recital, but I do appreciate the spirit.”

“Wha? Na—no that is not what I was going to say you egotistical prick!” Remus scoffs— just a bit flustered with a dusting of pink touching the tops of his sharp cheekbones. “You ate the last spring role!” He accuses emphatically, almost tripping over the over a dozen boxes that are strewn across their newly furnished living room. Sirius can’t help but be endeared by Remus and his everythingness.

“Yes, yes I did Wise Guy,” He confirms distractedly. “I also dipped it into some spicy mustard and drank a bottle of water while I was at it… Your point being?”

“My point you utter berk is that it was mine! I called dibs!”

“I remember no such thing,” Sirius sniffs haughtily, moving to rearrange the photographs on their mantel. (And yeah, it’s still fucking insane to him that he’s become so domestic that he’s got a mantel over the fireplace that the man he loves more than any other had insisted was absolutely crucial to have if they were to move in together—probably for really romantical love making sessions in front of it’s flames with the bliss of no worries of anyone barging in on them, or griping if they were being to loud—Which by the way, James honestly had no right in complaining about considering his track record with his and Lily’s on again, off again mating ritual.

“Liar!" Sirius honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Remus started stomping his feet right about now, and pouting up a storm if the childishly cross expression on his pretty face is anything to go by. (And honestly how could one man be so adorable and sexy all at once.) “You were finishing up the shrimp tempura— because you are a posh idiot without any tastebuds— , and I said that I’ll be right back to get some of the boxes in the spare room, and to save it for me! And then I come here, and I find this! This breach of all we’ve built together!”

Sirius barely conceals his snort. “Is that right? The foundations of our whole, entire bloody relationship? And right after this afternoon, when I made you—“

Two spots of color blotch high on Remus’s cheeks and he cuts him off before Sirius can completely recount the frankly remarkable romp they had just finished with before deciding they needed some nourishment before getting back to unpacking. “Don’t you try to change the subject you stealing stealer who steals!”

“That insult leaves something to be desired Moonbeam.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you wound me!” Sirius mock sobs, slamming his fist against his chest and swinging back his arm against his forehead. “A plague on you, and your family! And another on your family’s cow.”

Remus’s face morphs into his painfully unimpressed expression, (Hint, it’s very, very flat). “I’ll take your intentional dodge as an admission,” He scoffs, arms crossed tight against his chest.

“I admit nothing!” Sirius shouts in an overdone accent that would better fit the set of Downton Abbey. “Nothing Lupin!”

Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius’s hyperbolic attitude, and okay. Yes. Perhaps Sirius remembers a similar conversation akin to what Remus had described occurring only ten minutes prior. But to be quite honest, Sirius was hardly listening. Remus’s got on one of Sirius’s oversized t-shirts, a pair of boxer-briefs, and nothing else. So yeah, he should definitely not be expected to be paying anything any mind while his beyond gorgeous boyfriend is sitting there, impossibly long legs put out for display, and one perfectly alabaster shoulder bare where the shirt has slipped right off, effectively derailing Sirius's thoughts to how he’d teasingly kissed across his collar bone just earlier that night, nibbling on the hinge of his jaw while Remus had been writhing beneath him. so Really and truly, he should’ve never been expected to remember anything— let alone something as trivial as dibs— if his utterly perfect partner is right there for the taking, a determined dent between his brows, and intermittently rinsing his hand through his disheveled locks of hair like spun gold, excited over the prospect of fixing up this flat that is now their home.

Dear Merlin above does Sirius love this bloke with every fiber of his being.

“Well,” he relents, swaggering up closer to Remus so that they’re standing only inches apart. “Even if I did remember that such a discussion had taken place how you’ve described it—“

“It did, and you know it Black!” He harrumphs, using Sirius’s surname just to get a rise out of him.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now love, is There?.”

Sirius’s sure that he’s won the argument and they could just move on, until he catches the glint in Remus’s impossibly luminous eyes—a glint that always means trouble, a glint that’s never failed to make each one of Sirius’s nerve endings go ablaze.

“Is that right?”

“I reckon it is Moonbeam,” he leers, is momentarily distracted by the downright angelic smile Remus casts his way right then, but suddenly, an onslaught of fingers are piercing into his ribs, wiggling and tickling him into submission.

“Say you’re sorry!” Remus demands, an effortless grin of his own swept across his lovely face, brighter than the morning sun. And yeah, maybe Sirius should just admit that it was his bad, apologize a thousand times over in the form of lingering kisses and caressing hands.… But the thing is, Sirius’s stubbornness has always been too rigid for his own good, and he’s always loved prodding at Remus till He just went off like the world’s most darling firecrackers.

“Never you absolute wanker!”

“I won’t relent till you profess an apology to my satisfaction,” Remus scoffs— a playful giggle lilting his overly formal words.

“And I won’t surrender!” He parries with a leer. Sirius tickles back harder, and Remus shimmies around so much that He ends up jabbing him in the eye, ramming straight into his chest, and effectively sprawling them—all long limbs and crooked angles—onto the wooden floorboards.

“Just say you’re sorry!” He insists, strangled laughter starting to gargle his words while Sirius just gazes down at him, mercilessly besotted.

“”S not my fault you didn’t take it with you Lupin, i’ve committed no grievance.”

“Oh come off it pretty boy.”

“Oy! I’m ruggedly handsome you arse!”

“Testy, testy.”

“You’re the pretty one.”

“Oh suck my cock.”

“Been there done that.”

Remus seems to be fighting down another laugh before he knees him lightly in the abdomen enough that Sirius tenses, giving Remus the chance to switch their positions once again, so that He’s back on top.

“My have the tables turned,” He taunts with one of his most dazzling smiles, dimples in full effect, and crinkles around his pretty sea glass eyes.

“I like how you think I’m at all opposed to this position,” Sirius says with a pixilated gleam, arching back enough so that their cotton clad dicks buck up against each other.

“Perv!” Remus scolds, smacking his chest playfully. “Now admit that I won!”

“Never!”

Somehow, amidst all the thrashing bodies and choked peals of laughter, Sirius flips him over— slight body beneath his own, with Remus’s wrists pinned over his head and his legs wrapped around Sirius’s waste.

“Now, now Monsieur Moony, I reckon that spring has rolled into winter for you,” Sirius most definitely does not laugh raucously at his own pun.

“That’s not even the direction that the seasons go in,” Remus frowns, nose wrinkled indelicately, a tell Sirius’s picked up on whenever He’s mad over an outcome.

“You still lost though,” Sirius barbs with no real bite, pecking a quick kiss to his lips in solace.

“You’re awful, and I’m breaking up with you,” Remus sniffs in turn—wiggling underneath him to try and get loose.

“Oh, you love me really.” Sirius preens like the cat who’s caught the canary— the world’s most beautiful and brilliant and ruffled canary that is.

“Lies and slander!” Remus waggles his tongue between his teeth, and Sirius dips down to bite it teasingly.

“Hmm, now isn’t this cute,” the pair scramble away from each other, utterly stunned once spotting Lily of all people, gaze twinkling and lips set into a firm smirk, eyeing them while leisurely lounging against the door frame.

“You two really can’t keep yr sodding hands off of each other, can you?”

Remus completely reddens, totally flustered, while Sirius only follies back a smug sort of grin at the force of nature that is Lily Evans, his practical sister-in-law, remus’s best friend, and all around genius.

“How long have you been watching Red dearest,” Sirius asks wryly, making it so now Lily’s the one who’s flushing..

“I hate you Black.” She says shortly, and Sirius’s beam doesn’t falter. “Re, as your spiritual older sister—“

“You’re barely a month older Lils,” Remus interjects, but Lily just goes on as if he hadn’t.

“I think it’s my job to remind you that he’s not the only bloke in London with a decent shoulder to waste ratio and nice hair. We can snag you someone with a bit of brains even.”

Sirius tosses her a V shaped salute, and Lily sticks her tongue out in retaliation, but for his part, Remus only tries to cut through the tension with one of his friendlier grins, though it just comes out as an awkward grimace. “I forgot that you’re dropping off the boxes tonight.”

“Evidently Ace,” she snorts, strutting further into the apartment and setting down the box of photos Remus had asked her to bring over from their old place. “Far too busy snogging with the boy who single handedly received the most detentions in Hogwarts history, while also, somehow— by the grace of God— threatened our stances as top of the class.”

“Oy Evans, can’t take all the credit for myself. Jem was my better half, till he moved on to the likes of you.”

Lily ignores him, save for the way her pretty face gets a bit scrunched out of irritation. “Ace, I ask you, what would McGonagall say if she saw her favorite prefect gallivanting around with such a delinquent.

Remus lets out one of his rare and beautiful laughs, something that feels buoyant and is really more breath than sound, but is still so vibrant and splendid and it never fails to thrust Sirius back to the Hogwarts Express, where he and Remus had first met as a couple of wide eyed eleven year olds, and all the contradicting emotions Remus had provoked upon first sight. Wonder, and confusion. Intrigue, and diffidence. Wanting, and fear. It’s an attribute of Remus's that Sirius will never not be amazed by.

“Ah, Minnie my love, how I do miss her so, now where were we Moonbeam?”

“I’m still standing here Black,” Lily reproves with a scoff.

“I think it was about here,” Sirius continues, dipping down to kiss at Remus’s protruding collar bones.

“Settle down mutt,” Remus rebukes with no real heat, a gentle hand carding through Sirius’s hair.

“God, you two are already an old married couple.”

“You really do know the best moments to interrupt sweetheart.” Sirius snipes with a playful roll to his eyes, his hand discretely resting over the small of Remus’s back.

“And you have no decency, corrupting Remus the way that you do.”

“Okay first, I take fucking offense, you know better than me that Moony here was the mastermind behind most of our delightful pranks.”

“You mean your childish inconveniences you plagued on the unsuspecting public?”

“And secondly, we didn’t even get to the fun, currupting part because of your oh so lovely interruption.” Sirius retorts moodily, though he soon suspects the joke was a wrong play to make when Lily’s smile suddenly goes predatory and sHe flips back a lock of her wind blown curls, ready to pounce.

“Well perhaps I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t further defiling my dear Remus. But I guess that giant love bite on your neck proves that I’m too late.”

Sirius can’t help the chuckle that pours out of his lips at her needled observation, smacking a hand to conceal the hickey sHe’s taunting him about, knowing exactly where it is, it’s been a topic of teasing all morning long from a smug Sirius to a properly indignant Remus.

“He-he just marks easily,” Remus pipes out, cheeks completely infused red and worrying on his bottom lip. Sirius suspects that Lily just knew that the one chink in his armor is prodding at Remus’s less than poised acts.

Lily rolls her eyes in a way that convinces Sirius that sHe doesn’t believe it for a second. “Whatever you say oh Saint Remus,” sHe smirks with no more argument. “but pray tell, are you guys about done swapping spit around me? Or is that going to forever be a regular occurrence in the Remus and Sirius show?”

“Now I’d reckon that’ll get a sold out crowd every night, don’t you?” Sirius asks, directing his question at the pair of of them while taking Remus’s hand, and pushing him even closer— just always preferring to have some sort of contact with him.

“Oh put a sock in it,” Remus harrumphs, finally starting to return to his normal coloring in the midst of Lily’s unrestrained cackles.

“Aw, don’t be shy love, it’s only the truth.”

Remus presses the pads of his fingers to Sirius’s lips and glares at him for good measure, “Some things are better left for private.”

“Hah,” Lily scoffs, weight slung to her left hip. “As if I don’t get a front row seat every time you two are within even in a ten foot radius of each other—OH hey, I know that look Ace! The one eyed squint, and the teeth. Well your “I’m about to kill my gorgeous best friend,” look has no place here, i’ll see my way out now. Just promise not to christen every room in this place, kay? We’d all like to visit without the residual specs haunting us! And I know how moody you get without your daily dose of my scintillating company.”

Sirius thinks that Remus’s trying to skewer a whole in the spot where Lily was just standing, if the terribly cross look on his face says anything. It’s precious, Sirius can’t help but snicker.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake! You’re s’pose to be on my side!”

“I wasn’t laughing at you Moons,” he kisses the fingers Remus has still got on his mouth, mock consolatory. “Just incredibly turned on.”

That dent between Remus’s brows is back again for a moment, but then his beauteous features smoothen out and He just pecks a quick kiss to Sirius’s lips before rifling through the box Lily brought over, muttering a light,”Whatever,” as He does so.

There’s a quick wrapping to the window, and Sirius glances over to find his owl— Odysseus— with a bundle of letters attached to his left leg. By rote, Sirius feeds him some of the pellets they keep there for convenience, and unwinds the bundle of parchments, beginning to shuffle through them.

There’s a copy of the Nightly prophet with the murder of another Muggle family splattered all over the front cover in a sickeningly gauche manner, a free trial subscription to the Quibbler with a reading for Scorpios in the month of October, a letter from Peter about his mum and sisters driving him up the rails, an invitation from Marlene for he and Remus to come out to dinner with them for Dorcas’s Birthday, and a ominous letter from James of all paper that simply says a gift for Moony.

Bewildered to why he hadn’t just sent it along with Lily, Sirius tares off the attached photograph only to find something truly, horrendously vile. a photograph of himself. One that was definitely taken fifth year— Sirius’s worst year where he absolutely could not stand being around his family for a moment longer, and James was getting more settled with his studies, an Remus was dating that prefect prick from Ravenclaw and was exceedingly elusive from Marauders nights out. This was so obviously taken on one of those aforementioned nights out that it’s comical. Sirius’s hair is as long as it’s ever been— touching the tops of his shoulders— and he’s chugging down a fruity, pink concoction— the type that Rosmerta was always cooking up for them— hand over fist, and he’s got on puppy ears and a fake nose. In layman’s terms he looks like a complete and total pillock. Drunk off his ass so much so that you can see the stars in his eyes even through the clunky glasses he had stolen from James— convinced that he was sporting them for purely esthetic reasons and not because the knob is actually as blind as a bloody bat— and his finger is pointed and mouth is open in the way it always is when he’s ranting about something or the other.

It’s perhaps the only photograph in history where Sirius isn’t looking his typical, jaw dropping gorgeous self.

There’s about a thousand different retorts he wants to scribble on a spare parchment and shoot right back to James— ranging from nasty to downright despicable— but then he catches the familiar peal of laughter coming from behind him. He’s not surprised when he sees Remus—beautiful, ingenuous, perfect Remus who’s physically incapable of taking a photograph less than effortlessly lovely, even while pissed— peering over his shoulder in utter amusement.

“Oh My God I need to ask James to send me one of the hundreds of copies he surely has.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sirius retorts darkly.

“I’ll use an enlarging charm and hang it up above the mantel, for prosperity. The one time Sirius looks the way he acts,” he moves his hand over an invisible marquee and looks so damn smug that Sirius could kiss him, and in fact, that’s exactly what he does.

“I hate him,” is all he says afterwards, once he’s pulled away.

“I can’t believe that’s you!” Remus continues with eyes full of mirth.

“I want to banish him, no. No I want to banish all of them. All of our friends, we can make knew ones Moons. I mean look at us! We’re a catch!” He tosses the letters onto the newly acquired sofa as if they have personally affronted him and all he stands for.

“ Oh brilliant idea love.”

“That sounds like your sarcastic voice Moons.”

“No, you’ve got my full support. this’s our castle Pads, we can banish whom ever we like,” Remus balances on his tiptoes, and smacks an exasperated kiss onto his cheek. Sirius can barely contain the glee that’s dancing in his eyes at the thought of this being their own personal castle— a fortress just for the pair of them to escape within— causing another swell of fondness to pound in his chest.

“Well maybe we can give’m another chance,” he relents, melting into how Remus’s locked his arms around his neck, and is smiling up at him with all the love in the world shining unadulteratedly in his lovely eyes. “I mean they did help us move all those boxes and all.”

Remus hums his agreement while he presses his forehead against his own, endlessly endeared.

“What a generous king,” He goads, words hugged with fondness.

“Ooo, I like that, call me that in bed and I might bless you with my royal sector.”

Remus thumps his nose, “Your more tolerable when you don’t speak and just stand there being pretty.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty Moonykins?”

Remus shakes his head ruefully, the smile on his face one that Sirius knows well— one that means he’s reluctantly endeared. “Dork.”

“Plonker.”

There lips meet for another kiss and it feels like all the resplendence in the galaxy being distilled between just the two of them.

#Wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #marauders #spilt ink #sugarplums #kattlupin #so totally completely fluff #RIP #life's been total shit this week #so I guess this is a thing #I'm sorry sweets

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tartagilicious · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Kiro’s Show Contract Date (eng translation)

✨kirp ✨

⭐️ this date contains spoilers for a plot not released in English yet!

⭐️ sorry this took so long, doing my junior year of high school online was a very bad decision 😔

⭐️ dedicated to @kudoriee @flowerpoem & @elainabearie , who had to witness me freaking out about this date for two hours straight lol

—

Seeing the clock advance further every minute, I finally took a deep breath and made up my mind.

MC: If you break the contract, you break the contract… I can’t disregard his health.

I picked up the phone and was about to make a call to Savin when an incoming call jumped onto the interface faster.

Kiro: Good morning, Miss potato chips!

MC: Did your fever go down today?

Kiro: Ah….After taking my medicine in the morning, my body temperature has stabled. My fever’s gone down and my condition is much better than yesterday.

MC: That’s good. You have a good rest Savin and I will take care of this aspect of the show.

Kiro: Well, I know the boss is the best.

MC: In short, you still have to take your medicine today, so please pay attention to the time…

Kiro: I know, I know.

I urged a few more words out of him, but just as I was about to hang up, other voices suddenly seemed to come from the other end of the receiver.... The voices of Kiki and Anna?

MC: Wait wait, kiro, where are you now? Are you at home?

Kiro: Hey, you already heard it. Then should I just come directly in?

As soon as Kiro’s words fell, the door of the office next to me opened, and bright golden hair and his bright smiling face leaped into my eyes. His blue eyes are clear as promised, but the faint sickness under his eyelashes cannot be hidden.

Kiro hung up the call and cleared his throat.

Kiro: Although I said it on the phone, I have to say it again in person: good morning, Miss potato chips~

MC: Kiro?! Why did you come to the company?

Kiro: Of course, it’s because I have to come! Don’t I have to go to a show today?

MC: I was just about to contact Savin to talk about this. Should we cancel this big show?

Kiro: But if the business refuses to perform, won’t you get a big penalty?

MC: You don’t need to comment on the liquidated damages. You need to rest now. If this performance makes you more sick, we’ll have a real problem then. Your health and safety are the first and most important things to me.

Kiro: ...___

He watched me seriously and abruptly smiled.

Kiro: I’m really happy that you care so much about me, but I still want to participate in this big show. First of all, because I prepared a lot for this performance, I don’t want to give up so easily; secondly, um��

Kiro seemed to be unable to think of the second reason. His eyes were so wide for a minute that he grabbed my hand.

Kiro: Secondly, I’ll always do things that make you think I am doing the best, so… trust me.

When we arrived at the show, the place had already begun intensive preparations. Models gathered in the backstage, and everyone was looking gorgeous and brilliant. When Kiro walked in, it was obvious that his mask still covered most of his face, but everyone’s eyes were still chasing the bright light subconsciously.

Reporter: Kiro is coming!

Model: It’s Kilo!

Savin: Sorry, let’s go, let’s go-!

Seeing that various forms of media were coming forward, Savin hurriedly cleared the way ahead and sent Kiro and I into a single dressing room.

Savin: ___, I’ll go to communicate with the stagehands over the specific performance situation, please help me with Kiro.

MC: Ok, leave it to me here.

Kiro: Leave it to me too!

As Kiro said this, he gave Savin a saluting gesture.

I can’t help but laugh, and my nervousness eased slightly along the way. He took off his mask and let out a long breath.

Kiro: Then I'll change clothes first, see you soon!

MC: Okay!

Taking advantage of Kiro’s time to change, I got hot water in the meantime. After he came out of the dressing room, I put a cup of tea in his hand.

Kiro: This is..

MC: Although you say that you’ll be strong, your voice may not necessarily listen to you.

Kiro laughed after hearing my mumble.

Kiro: Maybe I can find new ways to sing and develop new songs after losing my voice…

MC: Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to have a broken voiced Kiro.

I glared at him pretending to be angry, and Kiro’s mouth was tangled, but he obediently took the glass in my hand and drank it.

MC: And along with that, you also need this.

I took out a box of lozenges from my bag and poured one into his hand.

MC: This, you should have one. Some time ago, I had countless experiences, and I depended on them to continue in life, otherwise I might be the inexperienced one today.

Kiro: Were you that busy some time ago?

MC: Yes, the company had to expand its enrollment again, and I saw countless scenarios again, I always felt like I was busy.

Kiro: But when I called you the day before yesterday, you said that you weren’t busy. Miss potato chips, this is being a bad head of staff, obviously you’re still better than me.

He stretched out his voice and “condemned” me. I quickly raised my hands and surrendered, turning the subject away.

MC: Okay, I was wrong anyway… You eat the lozenges first!

Kiro: You’ve got yourself a deal.

He put the candy in his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a hampster.

Kiro: This is also my favourite flavour!

For this big show, Kiro will sing two songs, one is the opening song and the other is the middle warm-up. The two songs are in a different pitch and style. Perhaps thanks to the lozenges, Kiro was in a very stable state during the afternoon rehearsal.

He even has the extra energy to discuss with the director how to integrate into the catwalk better and how to present a more gorgeous stage presence. He still looks energetic and he doesn’t have the appearance of someone performing while sick.

Until the end of the first song of the formal performance in the evening, while preparing for the second warm-up song, I took his temperature again. But, the results this time had me shocked.

Looking at the abnormal value on the thermometer, my heart was pounding, and I couldn’t help but call out to him.

MC: Kiro, you, how are you?

Kiro: Hmm? I’m fine.

His eyes were slightly out of focus. He raised his attention after hearing my question, but his reaction was obviously slower than usual. My worry fell into his sapphire eyes clearly, and he blinked.

Kiro: Is ___ worried about me?

MC: I’ve been worried about how you’re doing!

I handed him the anti-fever medication, and watched him drink the water in the cup without leaving a single drop. I couldn’t help but whisper,

MC: You promised you wouldn’t overwork yourself.

Kiro: You also promised to believe in me. Don’t worry, although I can’t play a lively concert for three hours, I can sing one more song!

He poses a few times like a superhero, but the makeup artist behind him pats his arms and signals for him not to move. Kiro stuck out his tongue, and suddenly seemed to think of something.

Kiro: By the way, can Miss potato chips give me another lozenge? I want to clear my throat again.

Kiro, who couldn’t move, opened his mouth to me confidently. But the cunning blue eyes obviously expose his intent -- it was deliberate. I reluctantly took out the bag and delivered the throat lozenge to his mouth. Kiro quickly took it away with his teeth, but accidentally rubbed away the lipstick on his mouth.

MC: Oops, the makeup is a little smudged! Don’t move and I’ll wipe it away for you….

As I said this, I quickly stretched out my hand, wanting to erase the blemish. Kiro’s face was so close that I could tell, the concealer perfectly covered his illness, and the foundation hid his weakness. In order to fit the stage makeup ordered by the big show, his already stunning face was carved into an even more beautiful face, and almost all signs of exhaustion were cut off.

Only when my fingertips touch his lips can I clearly feel his warm breath. It is as vivid as ever. I carefully erased that little flaw, and with satisfaction looked back at it.

MC: Alright, the prosperous beauty Kiro Zhou, you’re freshly baked!

Kiro looked at himself in the makeup mirror and raised his eyebrows.

Kiro: How many people do you think can handle being charmed by such a beautiful Kiro in one time?

MC: You’ve fascinated everyone in the city in a radius of about 500 miles!

The staff all around laughed at this sentence, and Kiro’s eyes flashed lightly, as if to say something, but in the end he didn’t speak. The staff came and knocked on the door to the dressing room, indicating that the next runway show was about to begin.

I finally adjust the decorations on his clothes, but I can’t help but say a few more words.

MC: If you feel uncomfortable in your throat, don’t force anything. You can do a lower tone. I believe in you as long as you try your best in your current state.

I spoke very firmly and honestly, and I knew he would understand what I meant.

Kiro: That… Miss potato chips, please come and cheer for me.

He opened his hands to me calmly, and I took into account the look he had just taken care of, and just wanted to give him a hug. In the next second, his powerful palm is placed on my back and I’ve received a full hug.

MC: Ki--

Kiro’s heavy head rested on my shoulder, and his hot breath brushed my ears, making my heart thump loudly.

Kiro: I don’t need the attention of everyone within 500 miles, as long as you watch me.

His voice is very soft, but it made my heart beat violently in my chest.

Kiro let go of me and raised his hand towards me, only to have me realise that at some point the box of lozenges were in his hand.

Kiro: This is my lucky item today, let it accompany me on stage!

After speaking, he put the sugar in his pocket, and amidst the sound of music and grand applause, he walked towards the runway. The prelude sounded, and the light followed him with his slowly moving footsteps. When Kiro hummed the first note, I had no choice but to pay attention like the others, completely immersed in his musical world.

He didn’t drop or change the key, but his slightly hoarse voice gave the old song a new charm. Models now wore new costumes of varying styles, passing by him like flowing water. It’s like countless planets orbiting the stars, and Kiro is the brightest one in the universe called the stage. At any time, it’s obvious that I’ll be pulled in by the gravity of Kiro.

The big show ended smoothly with a round of applause.

I just wanted to go to Kiro, but I met a media party who I had cooperated with before and had to accept a short interview offer. When I finally got out, I happened to see the most eye-catching figure in the crowd.

MC: Kiro!

Kiro was surrounded by models, and though he turned his head back to me, he didn’t seem to hear my call. The models finished taking a photo with him, watched him eagerly, and handed a signature pen to him. After he finished signing, the group still didn’t leave, but asked something of him yet again.

I hesitated, and when I didn’t know whether to call him again, Kiro seemed to sense something and turned to me. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up and he waved at me. As I walked over, Kiro pointed to his throat innocently.

Kiro: I’m uncomfortable, ___, please come and be my translator.

Hearing his voice muffled, my heart immediately dropped.

MC: What do you want me to say?

He came close to my ear and whispered something.

Kiro: The casting of the new music video…

I suddenly realised.

MC: They want to fight for roles?!

Kiro: Now that they’ve seen the menacing male protagonist, of course they want to create an opportunity for themselves.

MC: I understand.

I smiled and expressed my gratitude to the models for their love of Kiro, and then I changed the topic and said to them in a more business-like tone:

MC: Kiro needs rest now. As for work, please ask your agent to get into contact with his. Besides, it’s not a matter if casting so much as it is something that can’t be settled in a short time

The models glanced at each other and were too embarrassed to interrupt, apologised to both of us, and left. After they were far away, I heard a light laugh from behind me.

Kiro: ...It seems that this trick is quite useful.

His voice clung to my ears with the fresh scent of candy on his breath, his words clear. I reacted instantly.

MC: So your voice isn’t hoarse at all!

Kiro: Shhh, keep your voice down! It’s hard enough to get everyone to leave, do you want them to come back? And with my “boss” as my aid, they’re too embarrassed to come and chat with me.

I looked around and found that indeed no one was trying to come over and talk to him. Maybe Kiro had great acting skills, because even his eyes after the show were a little sympathetic.

MC: Well, that’s reasonable… but what are we going to do now?

Kiro: Didn’t you just say you were tired? Let’s find a place to rest!

After speaking, he hooked my finger and quietly led us out of the venue together. No one was in the dressing room, and Kiro finally let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Under the iridescent lights, even with heavy makeup, you can still the fatigue in his eyes.

MC: Kiro, have you been holding on okay?

Kiro: No, that’s why I asked you for help.

Kiro nodded arrogantly and pulled me into the dressing table.

Kiro: cough! I'm dizzy, flushed and can't lift my hands anymore. could i please trouble ___ to remove my makeup?

He blinked as he spoke, and his pupils were so bright that I couldn’t find any reason to refuse.

MC: Then sit down, and I’ll look for something to remove the makeup.

I searched for makeup remover and cotton pads in the makeup cabinet, washed my hands, pushed my hair behind my ears, leaned down slightly, and motioned for Kiro to close his eyes. When he raised his head, the glitter and tich colours at the centre of his eyes were soaked in lotion -- revealing the original skin tone.

It was as if the most exquisite porcelain had been burnt for a moment, his fair complexion showing a strange flush. My heart tightened and I almost blurted out advice.

MC: Kiro, you really need to take a good rest… I’ll tell Savin to push back all of the work ahead of you.

Kiro: In fact, Savin has already promised to let me take a short vacation, so i estimate that you’ll receive word in a while.

MC: Fortunately, this time I’ll let him supervise your itinerary and put you at home for a good rest.

Kiro: Just rest?

MC: ..What else?

Kiro: Since getting a holiday is rare, it’s better to have a little fun.

MC: Interesting.

Kiro: Yes! I bought the limited edition of the game that was released last month, but I haven’t opened the packing yet; there’s also a particularly good looking comic that i’ve stocked up on, and this time i can catch up; and you can catch up on the new episode of my TV series that aired a few days ago!

He used his fingers to count every single activity he could so one by one, and I couldn’t help but rub the tip of his nose with the cotton pad.

MC: Then let the bag of lozenges and your cello also accompany you?

Kiro: That’s better! But well,.. This kind of vacation can only be regarded as substantial, and is a bit short of being “fun”. It would be more interesting if the video game could be completed as a team; if a TV series and comic books can be consumed with someone to talk about them with, it will be more interesting. When cats tease dogs, I think they’ll eventually become friends.

Kiro opened his eyes, and my reflection was clear in his bright pupils.

Kiro: I think that would be “interesting”.

Kiro looked at me seriously and made a genuine invitation.

Kiro: So in the coming times, will Miss potato chips continue to be my “translator”?

Being watched by such a pair of gentle eyes, it is impossible for anyone to look away, let alone say a word of rejection. The interesting life he constructed is also the interesting life I've experienced.

MC: Ok.. the “translator” may not work around the clock, but I can come after I get off work and I can be your “fun explorer”.

When he heard the first half of the sentence, Kiro’s brows furrowed, but after I finished speaking, he smiled again.

Kiro: Then I have to listen carefully, what’s a “fun explorer”?

MC: The literal meaning is that I’ll do everything that you want to do with you.

Kiro: Really?

MC: Yes! But for the sake of your voice, this explorer will strictly supervise you during the vacation, and you aren’t allowed to eat any heavy sweets!

Kiro: Ah, why’s this? I still want to secretly have a snack party with you!

Kiro pretended to be frustrated and extended the ending sound of his words, but did not refuse my concerns.

Kiro: Then let’s promise, we’re now holiday partners!

He stretched out his hand and pressed my thumb to his. It seems to have stamped an agreement that spans time in my heart.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc kiro #mr love queen’s choice kiro #translation #spoilers #恋与制作人 #恋与制作人周棋洛

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shooting-starry · 4 years ago

Text

Trust me. Love me. Shoot me.

Atsumu Miya x female reader

Summary: Atsumu finds himself with a young woman who is more that what she seems.

A/n: Writing this was fun. It was fun. Please enjoy the awkwardness and watch me try to build character dynamics. Yay ::) please do not repost, but feel free to reblog or like!

Warnings: drugs and alcohol mentioned, weapons mentioned, Atsumu gets punched lol, I didn’t edit yet again

Masterlist

Previous//Next

The minivan was quiet, except for Bokuto’s light snores. Akaashi was driving with Kuroo in the passenger side. Kenma was sitting in the back on his switch, and occasionally pushing the sleeping Bokuto off of his lap. Y/n sat behind Akaashi, passing maps and snacks to Kuroo. Atsumu was directly beside you, looking out the windows as the buildings turned into fields then back to buildings.

Akaashi was planning to drive to the Nekoma headquarters, where a majority of Fukurodani also stayed. Nekoma preferred to stay in Tokyo’s countryside. It was close enough to the city, but remote enough for no one to care. It was a strategic location.

When the minivan pulled to a stop, not a a rest stop this time, a tall warehouse sat in front of the group. The tall metal walls started down at the very mini minivan, the windows were ominously empty. The warehouse had a spooky feeling to it, it felt as if no one had been there for years, yet every single step was being carefully watched and criticized.

The first time Y/n came to the warehouse, she was terrified, but none of the boys knew. After all, she had to keep her reputation as a force to be reckoned with. The rumours which shrouded Y/n were always enough to scare someone out of their wits. She was often described as a ghost who disappears into the shadows, blends in with the crowd and masquerades herself as anyone, then strikes when you think you are safe. She became anyone, a local grocery store worker, a waitress, a prostitute. She manipulated people to get what she wanted, then killed then. She camouflaged herself in the crowd and went unnoticed. Because of this, she was dubbed “The Chameleon ”. Y/n fed off of this respect. The fact that when her name was mentioned, people would visibly shiver. She didn’t care if she was called a monster. As long as she got praise and the respect that she deserved.

The 6 boys got out of the car and made their way towards the dark warehouse. Kenma knocked on the door, 6 rhythmic knocks, before the large sliding door slide open with a crash. Kai welcomed the group in, hesitating when he saw the 6 foot blond. Apprehensively, he let him in. The warehouse smelled like marijuana and alcohol. Y/n noticed that Lev and Yaku had yet to return. As the group entered the building, people from all angles yelled out in greeting to the group.

“Hey Chameleon! Did you kill anyone yet?” Yelled Yamamoto, along with other calls to the group such as, “Hey Owl!” (Referring to Bokuto and his strength, or his hair. No one has ever been brave enough to ask), or “Raven, I need your help on this assignment!” (Akaashi was dub this for his intellect. This man is smart). Other voices called for “The Hyena” (Kuroo was named this for his hyena like laugh that you would hear right before he killed you) and “The Caracal” (Kenma got this name thanks to his crazy kill methods. That man can be unhinged. Just take away his switch and get ready to die).

Y/n walked through the warehouse soaking in every word, but not replying to any. Right now she didn’t want to be the happy, friendly Y/n. Right now she had business to do. She kicked open a metal door which lead to a large office. The office wasn’t fancy, but inside sat the bosses of Nekoma and Fukurodani. As Y/n walked in, followed closely by the boys, keeping Atsumu behind them, she swiftly slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

The two old men looked up at her and the boys before their eyes landed on Atsumu. They looked surprised to say the least.

“L/n, why did you bring him here? Now were have to kill him.” Said the first old man, Nekomata. He was a carefree old man who was often smiling. Despite his appearance, Y/n knew that he could kill someone in less that a second.

“Nekomata, he is part of the Inarizaki family. If we killed him then they would be after you. So instead I propose we keep him here until his leg heals, then we make the trade with Inarizaki. They get back their man-child, and we get they alliance. Doesn’t that just sound wonderful? Akaashi and Kenma help me think of this.” Y/n asked, speaking in her sweetest, most convincing voice. She knew the last part was a lie. Kenma didn’t care about what happened to Atsumu, and Akaashi didn’t want to keep him around any longer than necessary. You just hoped he didn’t realize.

“Well L/n,” spoke the other old man, Yamiji, “I think its a good idea, except your safe house was destroyed because he was there. And how will we convince them to come, without an attack?”

“Well that’s simple, we can stay in the hotel in the city. The five of us can stay there with Atsumu. And I can take care of an arrangement.” Y/n said slyly. “I will even give you sometime to consider it. It is so much more beneficial to return him than to just kill him. Don’t you think?” She finished, leaving the room, with the boys, close behind her.

After about 10 minutes, both Nekomata and Yamiji stepped out of their office. Everyone in the warehouse, even the wasted men in the corner, stood up, as a sign of respect. Y/n had a more friendly relationship with the two men, and all parties were much more informal with each other.

“Y/n, we will let you go. Make sure that you trade him off in 3 weeks or else we will kill him.” Said Yamiji. “But, it is under the conditioned that the hotel he doesn’t get injured. We will send him off unharmed.” He finished, still staring at Atsumu.

After Yamiji’s speech, the warehouse burst into talk and gossip. “Can you believe the Ferocious Five have another assignment?” Or even “Why are the Ferocious Five getting such an easy assignment? They just have to make sure the dude doesn’t get hurt”. The group walked quickly to the store room. Inside there was the wall of guns and a separate wall for knifes. The drawers under the display of other weapon are held devises which were only common in spy movies. Y/n took multiple knife and hid them on her body. Two for each boot, one in each sleeve, and another on her ankle. She also took a tube of lipstick and a small jar of pills. Y/n loved the lipstick. If it got into your blood stream, it would kill you in a few hours. It would start to seep your energy within minutes, and then it would kill you. She also went to the hidden closet and grab different clothes. She grabbed a formal dress and a cute little picnic dress. She also grabbed a long coat, glasses, a collared shirt, dress pants, jeans and multiple pairs of shoes. But of course she also threw in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants and a sweatshirt. She grabbed a duffle bag and placed the clothes in the bag. She also found a few different purses and bags which she added to her bag.

After she had packed everything she needed, she regrouped with the boys. Kenma was fiddling with 6 cell phones and his bag rested on his feet. Akaashi was nearby, calling the hotel to book the rooms (He seemed very tense when he was talking on the phone). Bokuto and Kuroo were busy stuffing a bag full of food. Atsumu was staring at the ground, daydreaming about something. Y/n paced towards him, pick up a Polaroid camera on the way. She fisted her hand and punched him in the face. Hard. As her fit collided with his cheek, he groaned at the contact. A bruise was starting to for on his right cheek in a red mark formed on his face. Atsumu looked at her with a look disbelief while she shook out her fist.

“What the hell was that for? Ya crazy bitch, ya just said that A would be unharmed?” He yelled, while Akaashi in the corner was trying convince the hotel employee that nothing was happening.

“I just needed you to form a bruise, besides you’ll be fine. Now sit down so I can cover it with some makeup” Y/n ordered.

Compliantly, Atsumu sat down, while Y/n grabbed a foundation, concealer and a pallet of nude eyeshadows to help hide the redness of his cheek, and a blush. Carefully, she applied foundation across his face. After blending it, she applied concealer under both of his eyes and on his cheek. The concealer hid the red cheek while giving his skin a flawless sort of look. Next, with a small brush, Y/n altered the colour of the bruise, holding her face uncomfortably close to his. As she move from each product, she became more aware of the closeness. She could feel his breath on her hands as she fixed little parts of his face. As he looked more alive and functional, the more she realized his beauty. His dark eyes focused on hers as she scanned his face for any flaws in the makeup. She had covered his scar on his face, to make him look like any normal person. His skin looked clear and hydrated, and his cheeks were slightly blushed. Perfect. He was perfect and ready to go.

Together they stood up, Atsumu a little slower and more clumsy, and walked towards the door. Kenma handed everyone a cell phone, each person's number already entered in. Akaashi grabbed his bag and a bag of medical supplies and placed them in the car. Bokuto then took the rest of the bags and left them in the car (He was upset that Akaashi wouldn’t let him grab his bag too).

Once the group was in the car, Akaashi assigned the room to people. He explained that each room will have two bed. They were all on the different floors, but he would need to check them in.

“Bokuto-san and I will be in room 303, Kenma-san and Kuroo-san will be in room 204, and L/n-san and Miya-san will stay in room 405. Also, we will not be able to switch rooms. I was able to get the last three rooms for the next 3 weeks.” Akaashi explain as he drove the minivan.

The car ride was short then that mornings, once the fields turned to buildings, Bokuto got excited. He knew that the car ride was almost over (He was like a small child after an hour car ride). After another half hour. Akaashi pulled into the parking lot of a large hotel. After grabbing the bags, which Bokuto insisted on doing, the group walked into the hotel, and was greeted by the sitting room. It was a beautiful room. There were exquisite decorations along the walls. On the ceiling there was a beautifully complex chandelier. There were many people in the sitting room, drinking water or talking to each other. Akaashi, confidently walked up to the counter. The group was sitting on a large couch when Akaashi returned. He handed each person a key card for their room.

The group piled into an elevator and slowly got off at their floor. First Kenma and Kuroo got off, then Akaashi and Bokuto. Finally, there was just Y/n and Atsumu. The 30 seconds of the elevator going up were excruciatingly awkward. Neither said a thing, but a few glances were stolen when the other wasn’t looking.

When they got off the elevator, Y/n held both people’s bags as the looked for the door which read 405. When they found the door, Y/n slide the key card into the reader, after shifting all the bags onto one hand. They opened the door, they were met with long windows and a flat screen TV. There was a closet to the right of the door and the bathroom door to the left. There was a small desk against the door and a large glass panel separating the bathroom from the bedroom. In the bedroom, the bed was decorated in white sheets and many throw pillows. But there was a problem in the room. There was only one kind sized bed

Taglist: Please request to be added to taglist!

@kayleighbeccaa @jojowantstocry @m1lfluv3r

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x y/n #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #kuroo tetsurō #atsumu miya #tw drugs #tw alchohol mention #tw weapon

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nrth-wind-a · 3 years ago

Note

[✗ for fashionskrael; ♠ for fashionbells; ∇ for either/both? :3]

Character Appearance Meme II No Longer Accepting

✗ What (if any) scars does your character have?

He has two! Ish! Two spots on his body, if that makes sense!

First, Skrael has one little nick on his left hand from an ice skating incident (the one and only time he ever tried hockey), only just barely getting his hand out of the way of another skater’s blades before any real damage was done; he has never agreed to play hockey again, much to Frankie’s amused dismay (who can only stand in ice skates if he has a hockey stick or a railing to help).

The other one is from a skateboarding wipeout in his teen years; he scraped up the outside of his right leg, and now has small patches of scar tissue on the outside of his knee, and on his upper thigh, near the hip.

♠ What (if any) tattoos does your character have?

Answered here!

∇ What (if any) make-up does your character usually wear in daily life?

Skrael wears pretty heavy eye makeup about half the time, I’d say, favoring blacks and blues, and maybe a bit of white in the inner corners of his eyes, for a brightening effect. He also enjoys a range of eyeliners from black to white, and will switch between black and white mascara, depending on the look! For foundation and concealer, they’re just, very basic choices, that fit his skin tone. He doesn’t do much in the way of contour, bronzer, or blushes. For lips, he either wears just a simple gloss over natural lips, a nude or neutral color if he’s not in the mood for something more dramatic, or a black liquid lip (to avoid transfer throughout the day). Sometimes, he’ll go for other colors in the lip, but black is his go-to.

Bellroc, on the other hand, does not do much in the way of eye makeup, given their need to wear glasses or sunglasses, so they stick to either neutral colors, or looks that bring out their eyes in some regard, so that, barely visible though their eyes may be, they still stand out at least a little! Contrasting that, though, they wear very bold lip colors from time to time, favoring warmer tones, like reds, browns, warm-toned berry colors. They also have a wide array of nude colors and neutrals as well, for understated or professional looks. The main way they differ from Skrael, though, is that I think they do enjoy playing around with contouring makeup, finding ways to flatter the natural angles of their face. It’s subtle, but they like it!

Lastly, I’m not sure if nail polish counts as makeup, really, but I’ll include it here anyway: I think that it’s rare to see Skrael’s fingernails not painted black (when you can see his hands in the first place, though, which is truly an even rarer occurrence). As for Bellroc, I think they prefer either a clear polish to strengthen their nails, or, again, favor fairly neutral colors, when they paint them. They do not often paint their nails, but every so often, it makes them feel nice to go somewhere and get them done. I think for formal events, I could see them also doing some polish, and maybe going for something like a burgundy ombre effect, something that fades into a neutral color at the tips. It’s striking and unique, without looking tacky, in their opinion.

#// sorry this got long lsjkf #// thank you for your ask!#ask #mun answers #flamekeeperbellroc #fashionista how do you look? - rival designers au

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whereisten · 5 years ago

Photo

Traces

Summary: Violet is a blossoming filmmaker with her own demons. When man of the night Taeyong comes into her life, she realizes that demons are very much real. She will have to endure the consequences of trusting the one person she should’ve steered clear from.

Genres: Romance, A Pinch of Smut, Fluff for Days, Comedy, Drama, Angst, Thriller, Horror, Fantasy

Cast: Taeyong, Yuta, OC (the bad bitch that you’ll get to know as Vi)

WARNING: Mentions of Death, Language, Alcohol, Addiction, Violence (this writing in no way represents the members mentioned, all events are fake).

________________________________________________

CD 1: Intro - Track 1 - Track 2

Word Count: 7.7k

It was a busy Friday night at BOSS Karaoke Bar, my dad’s place. He was out for the night and entrusted his official manager Hani and assistant manager me for the weekend while he was out of town for a bar owners’ convention in Newark.

BOSS Karaoke Bar was located smack dab in the middle of Sunset, Florida. Sunset was a coastal, metropolitan town with high rises and trains running for hours on end. Celebrities and other prominent figures resided and visited all the time so it was always a pleasant surprise to see a popular basketball player or an international music artist come to BOSS. It definitely helped business boom and thankfully, BOSS was stronger than it had ever been.

Dad built the business from the ground up from the time he immigrated to the States. He worked as a dishwasher, a waiter, and a bartender among other odd jobs until he was able to attain citizenship and attend the Sunset University for Business Administration at the age of 28. He met my mom around that time and after his graduation, mom had me and a year after that, she had Janine. My dad worked his way up in management at bars and restaurants all over Sunset. Then, he discovered karaoke when mom suggested it for one of their date nights. And well, the rest was history.

“Hey, Vi. Do you think you can take over for a bit while I make a few phone calls?” Hani asked me. No doubt Hani was going to juggle her several gentlemen callers for the weekend and she had to iron out some details.

“Sure!” It wasn’t even that crazy at the moment. I checked the upcoming reservations for karaoke for the next hour and saw that there were only two parties I needed to check in. It was 10:30 PM and sometimes there were walk-ins.

A few minutes passed when Hani returned to her post. “What do you think? Should I give Joshua or Hansol a shot?” She asked as she adjusted her sky high boots, earning an admiring look from two girls who were headed to the restroom.

I’d been through this with her several times and while it was humorous, I wanted the best for her. “You know I can’t answer that.”

Hani laughed, music to everyone’s ears. “Sure you can! I’ve been wracking my brain over it for weeks now and they’re both starting to get...on edge.”

“What…”

“Let’s just say the three of us aren’t welcome to Whole Foods for the next month.”

“Really?” I shot her an incredulous look.

“How was I supposed to know that they both liked to buy their orange juice from the same place I do?”

One of the karaoke rooms, although muddled, became significantly louder as the group all sang along to “Sorry Not Sorry” by Demi Lovato.

I thought about Hani’s dilemma. I never understood love triangles. They were fun on TV shows but in real life, I couldn’t imagine being torn between two people. Torn between two snacks at a vending machine? Yes. Torn between two movies? Absolutely. But two different people? No. I think I would just know when I got to meet that certain someone.

“Hani, if you can’t decide between the two of them, then maybe...you don’t like either of them enough to really decide?” I asked.

A group of men and women came into BOSS and approached the front desk. At the forefront was an attractive dark brown haired man with piercing brown eyes and a jawline that could probably slice me up into delicate slices if I rubbed him the wrong way. Something about him had me on edge.

Maybe it was just the jawline.

He smiled at me and my thighs pressed harder against each other. Well, that was new. It had to be a record to turn someone on with just a look.

His smile made me feel like he just ripped off my black top and slacks and he liked what he saw.

Uh oh.

“Hi,” he said. Jesus, his voice was like velvet.

“Welcome to BOSS,” I croaked. Get it together, I told myself.

From the corner of my eye, Hani chimed in, “I think you can handle this, Vi. Toodles!” She sauntered off to the employees’ lounge.

I turned swiftly to Hani. “Think about what I said!” I doubted she heard me.

The man laughed, almost like he was in on what Hani and I were talking about.

“Sorry,” I said as I reluctantly turned back to him. He was so pretty it hurt to stare at him for too long. Not like I had the nerve to do so. I felt like I would turn to stone from maintaining eye contact for too long. Once I let myself meet his eyes...he had a hold on me. I couldn’t explain it. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” He said as he proceeded to eye me up and down. Shamelessly.

My cheeks, typically flushed because of genetics, were blazing now. Hopefully, my foundation concealed that fact but by the trace of humor in his expression, I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Do you guys have any EXO songs?!” One of the man’s friends, a bombshell in a wine red skin-tight sleeveless number, asked me. She was buzzed but friendly enough.

I answered. “Yes, we do. Would you guys like to make a walk-in reservation? We have rooms available.”

The man nodded. “Yes, please. We would like the VIP lounge experience if that’s possible.” The VIP lounge experience included unlimited drinks and food platters of their choice. It also included up to 3 hours of the karaoke room.

Of course, they were rich. Or maybe they were just really treating themselves. Dad reminded me that there were people who were willing to pay a lot for the VIP experience and we more than embraced it for the business. “Okay, awesome. How would you like to pay?” Anxiety had me a little less than thrilled that there were 10 people that may want to split checks but the man interrupted my inner reverie.

“Under Taeyong Lee.” He pointed at himself and grinned, possessing a boyish charm in that instant.

I was thankful I had my computer as a distraction because I was about to melt under his stare. He was paying for the whole group? “All right. That will be $1,480. How will you be paying?”

Taeyong handed me his American Express black card. I took it from his hands and incidentally, his fingertips touched mine.

His conspiratorial smile never left his face as he watched me charge his card.

I printed out his receipt so he could sign the merchant copy of it. I handed him his card, the receipt, and pen for him to sign and feared he would touch me again when he handed them back. I was about to get a nosebleed, I could feel it.

He swiped the receipt and pen back across the counter to me. “Thank you.” He smiled more softly.

Well, that was a little better. I was still turned on but I wasn’t about to come in my pants. He was probably a huge flirt at whatever conglomerate he worked at because, getting a better look at him, he wore a well-fitted black suit and tie. He was a little too formal for a karaoke bar. Maybe he was coming from somewhere else? I wondered where-

“Um...Violet?” He read my name tag.

I blinked a few times in succession. “Y-yes?”

“Are we good to go?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah! Let me take you guys to your room.” I got the key to VIP Room 3 out of the secured drawer and stepped out from behind the front desk.

“Follow me, please,” I said, quickly so I wouldn’t keep questioning if Taeyong was eye fucking me.

I could feel him right behind me as we walked through the dark hall, illuminated by a subtle starlight effect and some strobe lights shining from the karaoke rooms’ windows.

We reached the VIP lounge. I unlocked the door for them and motioned for the group to enter. Once Taeyong headed in, I let out a breath of relief as the rest of his friends walked in. They were all attractive, with luminous skin and elegant clothes. They were all from high society and my guess was that they came from some charity function.

“Okay, so you guys are set. There are thirteen mics and there are three song selection tablets on the table by the TV screen. The menus are also available to you. I’ll have ViVi come and take your orders in the next few minutes. So make yourselves comfortable and enjoy!” I went through my awkward spiel, only to realize Taeyong was the only one paying attention.

Some of Taeyong’s friends yelled out “thank you” and “gamsahamnida”. I nodded as I left and shut the door. I sighed as I pressed my back against the wall adjacent to the door. I could finally process what happened. I knew that wasn’t all in my head. Taeyong was flirting.

And it probably meant nothing to him.

I walked back to the front desk where Hani was speaking to a few regulars. They left shortly after.

“He was interested.” Hani said conspiratorially.

“In the drink selections, maybe.” I checked my phone for notifications. I had a countdown app installed in my phone. I was two months away from attending the Thorne Gala. That sent a ping of excitement down my spine.

“Come on, Vi. I could sense the electricity.” Hani placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Some would say my awkwardness is palpable,” I shot back.

Hani rolled her eyes. “I bet he’ll come visit us before his reservation ends.”

“Oh, well that’s not fair. He’ll probably have a question about the-”

“Excuse me,” a third voice interrupted.

Like clockwork. Taeyong was back. I wondered if he meant to look at us like he wanted to hook up or if that was just a default setting for his features.

And then he smiled. I felt a sense of warmth radiating from him that I didn’t expect. I gulped.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

Hani muttered. “Eager to ask, aren’t you?”

I elbowed Hani’s side while Taeyong spoke, “I think this is yours.”

He brought his hand out to show my mood ring. The left half of the ring’s center was shaped like a crescent moon and the right half was shaped like the sun. In between the sun and moon was the gem that changed colors. My maternal grandmother gave it to me before she fell ill and shortly after passed. I rarely took it off.

Then I recalled I was fiddling with the ring in my hands and must have slipped it into my pants pocket. It must have fallen out while I was taking Taeyong and his friends to their room. That was odd. It was second nature for me to always put it back on my right ring finger.

“Oh, wow thank you.” I reached my hand out to take the ring back. He dropped the ring in my hand. I was so relieved to have it back in my grasp, putting it right back on. I glanced up at Taeyong. He blatantly stared. “I have to be more careful.”

He nodded. “You should.”

Hani lifted her eyebrows. “How did you know it was hers?”

Taeyong widened his eyes as I came to that realization.

“Lucky guess.” He shrugged immediately after but there was a trace of mischief in his eyes, if my suspicions were correct. And with that, he returned to his room.

A few hours went by and Taeyong’s group was the loudest of the bunch. It was to be expected. They just wrapped up an awe-inspiring performance of Ring Ding Dong by SHINee.

Hani yawned as she organized some files at the desk. I was tapping my recently done nails against the marble.

I was surprised that Hani didn’t press me about my nerves and how I wanted to see Taeyong again. The look he gave me when we asked him about my ring was an indicator of something. I just couldn’t figure out what that was.

Hani exclaimed. “Holy!”

I yelped. “What is it?!”

“Your little boy toy just showed up on my timeline.”

“My little…” I began skeptically as Hani shoved her phone to my face to show me a picture of Taeyong attached to a Korean news article she found on Tweetness.

“Lee Taeyong is the heir of Seoulmate Entertainment,” Hani explained to me. The article highlighted on Taeyong’s US adventures. Before Sunset, he was in Los Angeles. Before LA, it was Nashville. Before Nashville, it was New York City. He was a busy bee.

I gasped. “Wait, Seoulmate Entertainment? As in South Korea’s number 1 entertainment company? That Seoulmate Entertainment?”

Hani nodded. “I knew he looked familiar. I just didn’t think he would ever come to this part of the States. He and his inner circle usually go to Los Angeles. That’s the American hub for K-pop.”

“Then what brings them to Sunset?” I wondered.

“Sunset is a growing town with a lot to offer. And there was probably some shindig downtown. Did you see that Oscar de la Renta tux?” Hani’s eyes had a glimmer in them. Fashion was everything to her. She knew all of the brands and kept up with all of the latest lines. I knew the difference between a skirt and a skort and that was enough for me.

I had no idea how Hani knew Taeyong’s tux was Oscar de la Renta. I was still processing that he was a prince of the K-Pop kingdom. If not, the prince.

Fantastic. Another intimidation factor.

Just as we were digging deeper into the Taeyong topic, we heard a crash from one of the rooms. I jumped.

Hani huffed. “It better not be one of the champagne glasses.”

We were used to hearing glass break every now and then. I never enjoyed it. In this business, though, we had to be prepared for some drunk and rowdy customers.

I left my post to see what all the fuss was about when I heard glass break again and discovered that it was coming from Taeyong’s group. A wave of dread came over me.

I opened the door carefully, hoping no one else would throw anything.

I got a good look at the room. There were two broken champagne glasses on the floor, alcohol splattered all over. One couple was making out in the corner. One group was arguing while another was singing an OST. And in the left corner of the room, Taeyong was comforting a girl seated beside him. She was completely wasted, slumped over but still breathing. Taeyong looked tense as he ran his hand up and down her back. Once he saw me, his expression darkened. Like he was caught doing something I shouldn’t have seen.

I asked, “Everything okay? I’ll have someone come and clean up the mess. I have to charge the broken glasses to your account. Please step away from the-”

“No, that’s alright. We’re okay for now...We’re leaving soon. I’ll pay before we leave. I’m sorry about this.” He tried to sound casual, shrugging, like it was just one of those days that happened every now and then. How it couldn’t be helped.

And I could tell he wanted me to leave. I could see the pleading in his eyes.

I eyed the group warily. “Alright then…”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you.”

I returned to the front desk. “Well, Final Fantasy and his friends are having quite the night,” I said.

“Oh? Do tell,” Hani prodded.

“It’s a party in there all right. One girl, especially, is drunk out of her wits. And there’s some drama. I wouldn’t know what it’s about but if you have the balls to go and check again after Taeyong told me to skedaddle, be my guest.”

“Sounds like Master of the Universe is hiding something,” Hani said.

“If something breaks again, I’m gonna have to do something. I don’t want to charge him for more broken property or call the cops.” I could feel the tension in my jaw from clenching my teeth.

“Trust me, he’s not worried about paying for a couple of champagne glasses. And he can make bail, too,” Hani pointed out.

That didn’t impress me one bit.

After another hour, now 1:30 AM, nothing else had escalated. When I was about to ease up, the group exited the VIP lounge. I could hear some of them arguing in Korean. Taeyong was directing his frustrations at another nicely dressed man who had the supremely drunk woman on his back. The man yelled back at him and nearly lost his balance.

Why would any of them trust a drunk man to carry a drunk woman? It was ridiculous.

Taeyong made an attempt to pull the woman off of the man’s back but the man went ballistic, exclaiming what I would guess were profanities.

The man finally dropped the girl and I was close enough to catch her. Hani was right beside me to help her up. The man was squaring up for a fight with Taeyong as he started throwing punches in the air and finally landed one neatly in Taeyong’s perfect face.

Hani exclaimed in Korean. What she said must have been along the lines of “get the fuck out”.

The man was about to throw another punch when Taeyong grabbed his fist and twisted his arm. Taeyong pulled the man to him and muttered a few things into his ear. The man slouched as Taeyong released him. The man was now silent and oddly enough, compliant. I frowned, more confused and frightened by Taeyong.

Taeyong’s disturbed demeanor shifted as he apologized to us. “I am so sorry about my friend. He had too much to drink tonight so he lost his cool for a moment. He should be fine now. We’re leaving. May I?” He nodded towards the drunk girl.

I eyed him and his friends warily. “Is she safe with you?”

Taeyong nodded. “She was a little in over her head tonight.”

“No kidding,” I replied. I winced when the girl shifted in my grasp. I needed to lift weights more often.

“I’ll drive her home,” Taeyong insisted.

“How do I know you will?” I demanded.

“What do you mean?” His eyes got a little bigger and I was even more confused about his true nature. All I saw was contradiction upon contradiction.

“I don’t know if she’s going home with someone she can trust.” As enticing as Taeyong was, I knew better than to blindly trust a pretty face.

“I’m a man of my word, Violet.” There was no trace of the humor and charm he carried when he walked into the bar.

I didn’t relent. “Why should I believe you?”

He sighed and deliberated for a few seconds. “If it puts your heart at ease, come with me.”

“What?” I asked.

“You can drive with us. Make sure Miri gets back to her apartment and I don’t take her to my sex dungeon.”

I wouldn’t put it past him to have one.

“Taeyong.” I gave him a pointed look.

“Will you?” His eyes were doe-like.

“I-“ I started.

Hani warned, “Vi, you just met the guy.”

My shift doesn’t end for another 15 minutes. And to go with two strangers? Granted, one was drunk. But as for Taeyong...

If I looked up “lethal” in the dictionary, I’d be sure to find his picture.

I wanted to make sure this girl made it home safe, though. And beneath my hostility and nerves, I hoped to get a further glimpse at the enigma before me.

I asked Hani. “Will you guys be okay to close without me?”

Hani was about to protest again but stopped. “Text me, please. Your dad would kill me if anything happened to you.”

I nodded. Hani let Taeyong and me carry Miri. Taeyong was on Miri’s right and I was on her left. She was a little off-balance considering the height difference between Taeyong and me. It was a good thing I wore my wedges today or else we would’ve looked even more ridiculous.

I looked up at Taeyong. “All right, here’s how it’s going to go. We go in my car. You give me the directions to Miri’s place.”

Taeyong raised a slit eyebrow but he accepted. “You got it.”

Hani warned, “Be careful.”

I smiled at her reassuringly, “Nothing is going to happen, except...Taeyong?”

He adjusted Miri on his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“That will be $150 for the broken glasses.”

“It’s bold of you to go out with a stranger, isn’t it?” Taeyong asked from the backseat. I pulled out of my parking spot in the parking garage adjacent to BOSS. He provided me with Miri’s address that I put on Good Maps.

I rolled my eyes. “This is well past my comfort zone, sure.”

“Can I go home now?” Miri asked.

Miri sat in the passenger seat. She was now more tipsy than far gone. She had long thick brown hair that fell way past her shoulders, down to her hips. Her gorgeous bronze skin was adorned by the reflection of the street lights and neon signs.

“Don’t worry. Taeyong and I are taking you home,” I said.

She grinned. “Aren’t I lucky? What happened to Baekhyun?”

I assumed Baekhyun was the drunk guy who punched Taeyong.

Taeyong replied, “Shownu took him home. Baekhyun will text you in the morning.”

Miri nodded. “Sounds good.”

I raised my eyebrows at this exchange.

I could feel Miri stare at me. “I don’t know you but...I like you.”

Taeyong chuckled at that.

My eyes never strayed from the road but I replied. “I’m Violet. I’m just making sure you get home safe.”

“Thanks Violet...Taeyong’s a nice guy...Stuck up but nice…”

Taeyong scoffed at that.

“Well, that’s what you get for wearing that suit,” I muttered after we reached a stoplight and met his stare in the rearview mirror. His eyes were sharp and alert. Like he wouldn’t dare look away from me. It sent pleasant shivers down my spine, I admitted.

Taeyong asked, “What was that?”

I blushed. “Nothing..”

Miri giggled. “Keep your eyes on the road, Violet. Or else Taeyong is gonna land you a ticket.”

I faced the road again. Taeyong cleared his throat. The light turned green again.

“So Violet...how do you know Taeyong? Are you maybe one of his…” She started giggling.

“His…?” I wondered. Was I one of his playthings?

Taeyong cut right in. “No, Miri. She’s not. We met tonight at BOSS. She works there.”

“Oh yeah! You were so nice! And you’re really pretty.” Miri said as she laid her head against the window. She fell asleep not too long after.

One long agonizing minute passed. All the while, I had music quietly playing in the car from my recently played playlist. The song was “Amigos con Derechos” by Reik and Maluma.

Taeyong exhaled like he was just as tense as I was. “So Violet, what’s your story?”

“My story?”

“I’d like to know more about the pretty stranger in the driver’s seat.”

I nearly sputtered. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do. You caused quite the scene back there. So...I’m intrigued.”

Did he really just say that?

“Oh, I caused a scene?” I asked a little too quietly.

“Yes?” He sounded unsure now that he heard how annoyed I was. It was refreshing to hear him like that. Contrary to how he seemed: confident and owning any space he existed in.

“It was you and your friends that made a mess,” I said pointedly.

“What? I paid for it.” What a response.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed.

“What?” He was even more confused.

“Why make a mess if you don’t have to? Do you know how much of an inconvenience it is for the staff to clean what you left behind and recover the losses from those champagne glasses?”

“I paid for those and I apologized. I’m so sorry again.” He meant it.

“Your friend was a real jerk. Being so irresponsible. Not looking out for her.” I nodded towards Miri. If I could get that jerk alone, I’d give him a piece of my mind. Even if he didn’t speak a lick of English.

“Violet, calm down.” I dared to think Taeyong was nervous.

“I hate what alcohol does to people who don’t know how to control their intake.”

“Violet.”

“And your other friends? None of them seemed to care. Someone should’ve told her to slow down.”

“Violet, stop. I get it.”

“You guys should be more careful next time.”

“Violet,” he said, emphasizing every syllable, snapping me out of my reverie.

“What?”

“Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you wake up!” When those words left my mouth, I remembered something I wanted to shove back into the recesses of my mind.

“I’ll calm down when you wake up!”

“If I’m asleep, Violet, then I never want to wake up!”

I didn’t realize I gripped the steering wheel so hard then.

Miri whined. “Can you keep it down?”

I winced at my outburst and pulled over to breathe.

Taeyong gave me a few moments before he carefully whispered, “Violet?”

In. Out. Dr. Mendes told me to breathe.

“Violet, are you okay?” He asked.

In. Out. I felt the pressure on my chest leaving.

I rubbed my hand over my face. “Yeah. I...got carried away.”

Silence followed. “Someone to Spend Time With” by Los Retros was playing quietly on the stereo now.

Taeyong started, “You’re right, you know...About my friends and me.”

I laughed weakly. “That’s music to my ears.”

“I’m an ass.”

I played with my hands, avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed. Even if Taeyong was an ass, I didn’t think it was right of me to snap at him like that. “Go on.”

“I’m sorry.” His tone was somber. Repentant.

He sounded much closer than he did so I turned around. He leaned on the driver’s seat. My arm bumping into his hand, which he’d placed on the shoulder of my seat. Like he wanted to touch my shoulder but was smart enough not to.

Taeyong’s face was very close to mine. The frustration I felt quickly transformed into a different kind.

“Thank you,” I said, my cheeks aflame.

He smiled warmly. His sharp features softened to show a cuter and more innocent side of him. He didn’t feel the tension I felt, it seemed. And that disappointed me.

I didn’t know what was up with me. Maybe my hormones were just out of control. It was just a few days before my period. Maybe it was because I haven't been with anyone in five years.

I put the car in drive. We were back en route to Miri’s house.

“So...Do you still want to know my story?” I asked, aiming to lighten the mood.

“Absolutely,” his voice was dripping with honey.

“Okay. But in return, you have to tell me about yourself. And what happened with your pal. Baekhyun, was it?”

He went silent when I said “Baekhyun” but then he relented. “Fine.”

I began, “Well, I was born and raised in Sunset. I went away for college in Atlanta before deciding to move back.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to work on my filmmaking career and earn money on the side.”

“Filmmaking?”

I nodded. “I’ve been into filming and editing since I was thirteen. I put those dreams on the backburner when I went to college. It was my junior year when it hit me. I wanted to film. I wanted to make something I could be proud to call my own. To see my own movies on the silver screen? That’s my dream.”

“That’s great. What are your movies about?”

I answered quickly, “Love.” I was a little too eager on that delivery.

Taeyong hesitated. “Love?”

“As flawed as people are, they deserve love. And there’s just so many kinds of love. Between friends. Family. Lovers. I want to focus on the ups and downs of all kinds of relationships. I want my audience to connect with what I create. If a thirty five year old man wants a love story about him and his podiatrist, I would make it.”

“A foot doctor?” Taeyong laughed.

“Everyone has a story, Taeyong.”

He pondered. “You’re right.”

I realized that I really poured my heart out to him then and proceeded to turn bright red. “Sorry, that was a little much...”

“Nah, it wasn’t. You really lit up when you were talking just now. I like seeing you that way.”

I wanted to turn around and lock lips with him.

He continued, “I’m happy for you. It’s beautiful...Your dream. You know what you want.” He sounded almost melancholic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his case was different.

I coughed as Miri tossed and turned in her corner. “Thank you.”

He grinned at me through the rearview mirror. “Now you can ask me some personal questions.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, I will. So...Where did you study? And what’s your biggest dream? It’s only fair you answer these since I exposed myself to you.”

We were both stunned to silence when I realized my choice of words.

I added, “You know what I mean.” My blush was just going to be my best friend tonight. Might as well own it.

“I attended Seoul University, majoring in business administration and music composition.”

I remembered the article Hani showed me. It was no wonder he was studying both if he was going to inherit his father’s company. “That’s awesome. You’re versatile. There’s so much you can do with both majors.”

“Yeah...Honestly, I prefer music composition. My father required I major in Business Administration.”

“I see...So are you expected to take over your father’s business?”

He asked, “How did you know about my father’s business?”

I choked. “Well...Hani and I looked you up...On GoodSearch.”

“Oh?” Why did it sound like he was smiling?

“Hani thought you looked familiar so we looked you up. But don’t worry we didn’t go too deep into it. Who knows what we could uncover?”

“What are you implying?” He asked, suspicious.

“Oh, nothing at all,” I teased.

He laughed. His laugh was rich and warm. Not like the teasing laughter I’ve heard.

He continued, “But yeah, since my parents found out I was a boy in my mother’s womb, my fate was sealed.”

“That’s...intense.”

“You don’t know the half of it…”

And with that, there was another silence. What could I say to that? It wasn’t like I could relate. Plus, he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy pity.

I said, “Alright, next topic…What is your biggest dream?” I cringed. Maybe that question was too cheesy. But what other way was there to say it?

“I don’t have a damn clue.”

I gaped. “Nothing?”

“It feels like I’m on autopilot. Like I’m living by a schedule and I’m just expected to show up wherever the schedule tells me to.”

I hesitated but gave into what I really wanted to know. “You don’t want to inherit your dad’s company...do you?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure, Violet.”

We pulled up to a high rise in North Bay Village and parked in the guest area.

Taeyong said, “Alright, Miri, you’re home! Wakey wakey.”

I tapped Miri on the shoulder and she groaned, “Five minutes, Baekhyun.”

Thanks Miri for reminding me of why exactly I couldn’t trust Taeyong in the first place.

Taeyong got out of the backseat and opened the passenger door.

I got out of the driver’s seat and stood beside Taeyong.

I asked. “How are we going to do this?”

Taeyong replied, “Let’s grab her arms and go from there.”

So we did. Miri laughed. “Guys! That tickles!” She finally stood up.

“Can you stand on your own?” I asked.

She attempted to walk and wobbled so Taeyong and I caught her before she face planted against the concrete. “If I lean on something, yeah…”

Taeyong and I gave each other a look.

“You take one side and I’ll take the other,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

We got Miri to put one arm over my shoulders and the other over Taeyong’s. “You guys are amazing. Thank you sooooo much for bringing me home. I promise to invite you guys over soon and make you some lasagna,” Miri said as she nuzzled Taeyong and then me.

I laughed and asked, “Where are we going?”

“Miri, what floor are you on?” Taeyong asked.

“Sixteenth!” She exclaimed.

“And...you have your keys, right?” Taeyong eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, they’re in my purse. Can you check for me?” Miri asked me.

I checked her neon pink handbag. Thankfully, the keys were there. “Yup.”

Miri yelled, elated. “To the sixteenth floor, gentlemen!”

We stopped at Miri’s doorstep as she fumbled with her keys. She handed them to me. “Will you be a doll and open my door?”

I unlocked her door and we brought her in.

“Jesus Christ, Miri. I thought you weren’t going to be home for another two hours!” A female voice piped up from one of the rooms.

“Sorry to interrupt your ME time, Barbara! Your solo stage. Your me, myself, and I!” She erupted in laughter. “Do you want to meet my friends?!”

“Fuck, Miriam. You have people over?!” Barbara didn’t sound thrilled.

We helped Miri to her bedroom and she plopped onto her bed.

Miri said, “Thank you guys. I’m sorry for all of the trouble…”

Taeyong shook his head. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Do you need some water or anything?” I asked her.

“Nah, it’s fine. Babs will take care of me. She owes me.”

Taeyong and I walked out of the high rise. As we walked back over to my car, I remembered his interrogation wasn’t over.

“So what happened tonight? Broken glasses. Yelling. A fight that almost made me call the cops on your asses.”

Taeyong met my eyes for a moment before staring off in the distance again. “Baekhyun had too much to drink and lost control. We’re not the best of friends but we run in the same circles.”

“Is he Miri’s boyfriend?”

“I wouldn’t say that. They’re pretty casual. I got pissed because he wasn’t really looking out for her like he should’ve.”

“I see…Well, you did a good thing.” I felt like an ass for thinking he didn’t care about her. He wasn’t perfect but I shouldn’t have written him off the way I did.

He put his hands in his extravagant pockets. “Yeah?”

“You were quite the gentlemen,” I admitted.

He chuckled. “You went out of your way to help a stranger. It was very noble of you.”

“You think so?”

“Now don’t act modest, Violet. You know you did a good but stupid thing tonight.”

I was floored. He was right about that.

Up until this point, Taeyong didn’t show any signs of snapping my neck and leaving me for dead. But I wouldn’t confirm that until he got out of my car when we headed back.

Taeyong continued, “You let two complete strangers into your car. A personal place...” He moved himself closer to me. “And you don’t even know me.”

“That was stupid. But...you don’t seem that dangerous to me. Foolish? Yeah. But dangerous? I don’t think so.” Oh, if my parents could hear me at that moment.

We reached my car. He paused and got a good look at me. “It’s sweet of you to think that.”

Taeyong sat in the passenger seat this time. He gave me his phone. “Play anything you want. Do you like K-Pop?”

“Do I? Oh ho ho let’s see what you’ve got.”

I scrolled through his Berry Music streaming app and was shocked to find SHINee’s upcoming album.

“No fucking way. You have access to SHINee’s new album? It doesn’t come out for another two weeks!”

Taeyong beamed. “Being my father’s son has its perks.”

“God, would it be okay if we listened to it?”

“My library is yours, Violet.”

We drove, heads bobbing to another SHINee triumph. We talked about what SHINee songs were our favorites and talked more about music. We liked a lot of the same artists. And somehow ice cream came up in the conversation and he admitted he had the biggest sweet tooth. It was so contradictory to his persona but I liked it. The ride back was faster, I was disappointed to realize. The traffic, unfortunately, died down real quick.

But when the last song played, the atmosphere shifted. It was a sensual song. I didn’t need to know Korean to know that. It was in Taemin’s voice. And the infamous bedspring sound effects SM was known for. And the English phrase: stay with me tonight.

The head bobbing stopped and I felt like the oxygen was quickly escaping from my car.

We reached a stop light that I knew ran pretty long so I took the chance to look at Taeyong.

I regretted it.

Because he was staring. Hard. His eyes were lustful and he gave me a half smile. He bit his lip and I wondered if we could pull over into the Target parking lot and just be wild animals.

A car beeped me out of the temptation. The stop light was green now. Eyes back on the road.

We arrived back at the parking garage. It was almost empty. BOSS was closed and everyone had gone home. I parked beside Taeyong’s Maserati and shut the engine off.

“So…” I began.

“So…” He mirrored.

“I guess this is...goodbye.”

“Yeah.” He looked sad, defeated even.

I forced a smile because even I was supremely bummed at not seeing this gorgeous specimen again. I felt like tonight was the beginning of something. What that was...I didn’t know. But I wanted to.

“Thanks for the ride back, Violet.” And he just stared at me. Kind of expectantly.

I avoided his stare. “Good night.”

“Good night, Violet.” He opened the passenger door gently. Was I crazy or was he slowly getting out of the car?

He got out of the car and shut the door.

Oh, fuck it.

I pulled my keys out of the ignition, shoved them and my phone in my front jeans pockets, and got out of my car.

“Taeyong!” I yelled. My voice echoed in the garage but I didn’t care. He was about to open his car door but I ran up to him before he could.

“What’s up?” He asked.

I got up on my tiptoes, pulled his face closer, and kissed him.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to know what his lips would feel like. If there was a connection there.

Instantly, he took my face into his hands and deepened the kiss. I allowed his tongue into my mouth and our tongues were fighting it out over who could die from arousal. I ran my hands through his hair and he was caressing my upper body. He cupped my ass and picked me up off the ground. He moaned and so help me, it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard. I could feel his member rising against my pelvis. And I knew he could feel how soaked I was.

I needed air so I relinquished myself and Taeyong groaned.

Traces of my lipstick were on his lips. I giggled as I wiped them off.

Taeyong looked impatient. “Can we-“

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Taeyong, his hands very fond of my ass, glared at my phone as I grabbed it from my pocket.

It was Hani. Crap, I never texted her.

I answered, “Hey.”

Hani almost destroyed my right ear drum. “Hey? HEY?! Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been worried! Are you okay? Where are you?”

Taeyong watched me, the lust very palpable. Radiating off of his luminous skin. The typically unflattering parking garage lights couldn’t do anything to this man.

I gulped. “Hani, I’m so sorry! I’m okay. I was dropping Taeyong off at his car. We’re in the garage.”

Hani let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God! I could kill you!”

Taeyong adjusted himself and he was getting very needy. Everything about him was.

“I’m going home now, don’t worry.” I said, lying. Half feeling bad and half wanting to hang up.

“Is he still with you?” Hani asked, not hiding her disgust and annoyance.

I froze before I let out, “Y-yes.”

“I’m just gonna take a wild guess. You’re gonna hook up with him. If not, you’re in the process...And I’m interrupting.”

I hesitated.

“So which one is it?”

“It’s the second,” I admitted.

“Oh...Oh!!!!!” Hani laughed. “So...I’m guessing he checks out then?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

Taeyong gave me a playful annoyed look. He could hear everything Hani was saying.

Hani sighed. “Text me when you get home. Don’t stay out too late.”

“All right. Good night, Hani. And I’m sorry again.”

Hani tsked. “Just don’t leave me hanging. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy.”

“Thanks Hani.”

“Good night, purple moon.” She said suggestively, using one of my nicknames. She hung up.

Taeyong grabbed my phone out of my hands. He stuffed it in my pocket. He pulled me closer and initiated a kiss.

He was so strong and commanding with every movement. He held me tightly and securely. I knew he wouldn’t let me fall. It was like I didn’t weigh much to him. He was stronger than I imagined.

He moved his lips down to my neck, peppering it with kisses and looking up into my eyes with so much affection. And then he sucked at my neck. I moaned so loudly that I could hear the echoes. I took off his jacket and he chucked it back to the hood of his car. I ran my hands all over his abdomen. Rock solid to no one’s shock. I began unbuttoning his dress shirt and could see tufts of his chest hair peek out. I wished my hands could work faster.

And then, once again, we were interrupted. Taeyong’s phone rang. He grabbed it out his pocket while handling me with one hand.

Taeyong spat out something in Korean before he answered.

Answering, he bit out, “What?”

Whatever the other person said on the other line, it annoyed Taeyong.

He responded in Korean, leaving me confused and impatient. Now I knew how he felt when Hani called. Only I felt worse because I didn’t know what he was saying and I didn’t know what was going on.

Taeyong ended the call and he looked bothered.

“You okay?” I asked him.

His features relaxed when he looked at me. “I could kill Shownu.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I have to go,” he said. “Baekhyun’s being a lousy drunk.”

“Oh.” I looked down, not wanting him to see my disappointment.

He tenderly took my chin and lifted my face up to look at him. He kissed my nose. “I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “Me, too.”

He put me down and he walked me back to the driver’s seat of my car. I got in, fastened my seat belt, and turned on the engine. Taeyong hung out right outside the door, lingering.

“I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” I said, “But...it was nice while it lasted.”

“I don’t think nice is the right word,” he said as he gave you the same look he did during that SHINee song.

My throat dried up. “You should go.”

“Not until you give me your number,” he said.

I did a double take. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His sexy smile graced his well-sculpted face.

“O-okay.”

We exchanged numbers. I gave him my phone so he could add my number. He even took a picture of himself for his contact photo, making a goofy face.

I laughed and did the same when he gave me his phone. I looked at my selfie. I cringed. I should’ve just tried doing a cute pose.

Taeyong was very close to me as I carefully analyzed my photo. “Cute.”

I yelped and he laughed.

“Relax. I don’t bite...Unless you want me to,” he said.

“Ooookay! Well, here’s your phone back!” I avoided his glance. “I gotta get going.”

“Okay.” His smile softened. He gently took my hand and kissed it.

“Sweet dreams, Violet.”

;;

Intro: Epilogue

(A/N: the following conversation is in Korean so think of this as a translation)

Taeyong was cursing himself for leaving Violet to go tend to his idiot friends. And Baekhyun wasn’t even a friend and acquaintance was too nice of a title to bestow on such an unworthy person. He parked in the driveway of his beach house in Sunset Shores and entered. He went up the stairs to Baekhyun’s room.

Taeyong knocked. Shownu answered, noticing how Taeyong’s hair looked disheveled and how flushed he looked. He didn’t want to pry. He motioned for Taeyong to come in.

Baekhyun was inside, his arms handcuffed to the headboard of the bed. The handcuffs were made to keep people like Baekhyun from moving too much. “Taeyong, you little shit. Get me out of these.”

Taeyong sneered. “After what you did tonight? Nearly blowing our cover? What were you thinking?”

Baekhyun stammered. “Miri said I could so I went for it! There’s no issue.”

“I had to have someone break into the surveillance room and manipulate the footage, you moron.”

“Taeyong-“ Baekhyun started.

“You need to get it through your thick skull that we can’t afford to let anyone know the truth about us. Not if we hope to claim what we want.”

Baekhyun laughed. “What we want? This isn’t about any of us. This is about your vendetta against your ex.”

Taeyong moved closer to Baekhyun and pressed the cuffs harder against Baekhyun’s skin, causing him to cry out in pain.

“You want my protection? A piece of my wealth? Then do as I say, Hyung.” He spat the last word, knowing it humiliated Baekhyun to be subject to his junior.

Taeyong turned to Shownu, who waited for his instruction.

“Shownu, he’ll be fasting for the next week,” Taeyong said.

Shownu, not really one to display intense emotion, blinked in surprise. Baekhyun yelled, “Do you want to die, Taeyong?”

Taeyong smiled. “You should be asking yourself that.”

Track 1 (Coming Soon)

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goddamnmuses-a · 4 years ago

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No Word For It • Open (I guess this is a long ass starter?)

Blood dripped from his knuckles as he looked down at the incapacitated man at his feet, taking a deep breath he may have thrown that last punch a little too hard. The man was alive, might have broken some bones but he’d survive. With sirens in the air, Bruce raised his hand to the sky and with a thwip grappled his way suddenly up into the air and onto a rooftop.

His cape flapped in the wind behind him as he ran along the rooftop before leaping, hands gripping his cloak to glide to the next roof then with a deep rev the batmobile sprung to life below him. Tucking himself in tight he fell through the opened roof of the vehicle which immediately began to drive.

The car sped down a street, around a corner, heading towards Wayne Manor the car suddenly turned to a head into a collision with a rock wall, only for the rock to part before the vehicle and close quickly behind it.

The car sped and suddenly skidded to a stop in the batcave where out emerged Bruce Wayne, in a suit more fitting for a formal function than for fighting crime. Walking through the cave Bruce looked over at Alfred who was waiting by the elevator to leave, getting in with him Alfred began to give him details on the event that was currently being held above their heads.

Stepping out the elevator into his study, a grandfather clock swung behind them, concealing where they’d just been. “I think I have it handled, thank you Alfred.” Bruce spoke to his butler, before stepping out to the public, all eyes on him he smiled and made his way to a small raised stage. Raising a glass he’d plucked from a tray on the way to the stage he cleared his throat.

“I’ll let you all get back to enjoying the alcohol and food I’m paying for soon enough.” Bruce spoke with a playful grin. “I’d just like to remind us all why we’re here today.” He continued his smile falling to a more serious facial expression, remembering what the function was for from Alfreds information given to him but a minute ago. “The Martha Wayne Foundation.” Bruce’s eyes glimpse up to the portrait that hangs on the wall of his mother and father and a much much younger himself.

“Although it is my mothers name on the foundation, i’d just like to hear it for the people behind the scenes who have recently opened up two new soup kitchens as well as continued to run dozens of others as well as orphanages and helped provide free schooling opportunities.” Bruce paused for applause and then continued. “There will be be an auction later tonight where all proceeds will go right back into the Martha Wayne Foundation and in turn Gotham, now, drink up, get drunk, spend as much money as you can people, it’s for a good cause.” Bruce wrapped up raising his glass again before downing it and giving a playful wink and heading off the stage.

Returning to Alfred who immediately began to adjust his tie, the butler pointed out that some of what the Martha Wayne Foundation does was left out of Bruce’s speech. “Well I wanted to keep the mood light.” He told Alfred before turning to look around at the people he was sure probably wanted some of his time.

“Besides, there’s no nice way to word it, sure, helping orphans, that’s easy to say, helping grieving widows and widowers.. easy enough.” Bruce thought aloud before looking back at Alfred. “There’s no word for a parent who’s lost their child.” The thought of it alone would be devastating, it was hard to lose parents, Bruce knew that all too well, but since the first Robin came under his wing he’d had a whole new fear he’d not thought of before.

“Let’s just let everyone enjoy tonight, Bruce Wayne has fun, save the worry for Batman.” He whispered to the closest thing he had to a father figure who he was sure understood that fear. Giving Alfred a pat on the shoulder Bruce turned and took a deep breath before stepping towards the public, bracing himself for whoever would demand his attention first.

#m:Bruce #idek.. this started as a starter and became this #open #i guess it's still a starter?#it can be?#idek.

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feminarrie · 5 years ago

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ice and tanqueray - two

warning(s): this series contains smut (18+)

[ masterlist ] / [ story tag ] / [ niall tag ]

The First (Non) Date

Y/N should really learn to pay attention in her lectures, but she’s got a nasty habit of scrolling through social media when the material is dry. Her disinterest has yet to get her in trouble despite the quiet giggles and obvious lack of eye contact. Yet, that her streak of good luck seems to end when she receives a text message from Niall. It pops up on her phone screen while she’s reading trash article about the latest celebrity scandal. And for a moment, she thinks about ignoring it until she gets out of class. But, the lecture is just so boring and surely Niall’s message is even slightly more riveting.

And it is.

Would like you to accompany me to Louis’ benefit, if you’re free. Free food, booze, and a chance to step away from school for a bit.

A gasp heaves itself from her lungs which she quickly tries to conceal with a hand over her mouth and stretching an arm up behind her. The fake yawn does little to convince her professor, a stern looking older man that has a fluffy eyebrow raised at Y/N. If he has any choice words to say to her, he does not voice them. He simply makes it a point to keep eye contact with her for an uncomfortably long time before turning back to the presentation. She takes the moment to reread the message.

He couldn’t have possibly meant to send it to her her. There’s no way that he would want her to join him at something as public as a benefit and fundraiser hosted by Louis Tomlinson. But, when her eyes pick apart each syllable trying to find any indication that he picked the wrong contact, she can’t think of anyone else he would send it to.

Y/N isn’t an expert on Niall. He is far more complex than one would guess. But, she’s pretty sure she has scheduled enough “play dates” with his friends and colleagues to know he doesn’t know someone still in university.

Except for her. (But, are they friends? Does this mean they’re friends?)

She leaves the text message until there’s a collective rustling of papers and a formal dismissal of the class session. Y/N is quick to pack up her own belongings, shoving it into her large bag before booking it out of the classroom. Partially because she needs to find Robin—her roommate and voice of reason—and mostly because she can see the annoyance in her professor’s eyes as he began walking toward her. She hardly has the time or emotional capacity to deal with a firm talking to for a small disruption. Not when she’s scrambling to figure out what she should say back to Niall’s proposal.

Y/N picks Robin out fairly easily. The thick, tangled auburn bun atop her head stands out amongst the rest. She mumbles quiet apologies as she walks against the grain of people before reaching a hand out to touch Robin’s small wrist. The redhead is a petite little thing, only standing at five feet (and third-quarters, she’ll have you know). Freckles for her ivory skin and green eyes light up when she sees Y/N.

“Hello, little bird!” Robin nearly sings, allowing Y/N to intertwine their fingers.

(They’ve come to call each other “little bird” since moving in with one another. For no reason other than Robin’s namesake. Their home had been affectionately named The Nest shortly after).

“We’ve got a situation,” Y/N leads off, a nervous smile playing at her lips and tongue pressed between her teeth.

Robin nearly rolls her eyes into the back of her head when Y/N details what has happened. They’re walking toward a coffee shop at the other end of campus, hands still intertwined as they walk.

“I thought it was something bad, Y/N.” She giggles, the noise cutting through the sound of the wind. “You’re going to say yes, right?”

“That’s just it! I don’t know if I should,” Y/N says, uncurling her fingers from Robin’s to open the cafe door. “Isn’t that inappropriate?”

Robin thanks her before stepping inside with yet another roll of her eyes. “It’s only inappropriate if you make it inappropriate.” She says, glancing back at Y/N.

Her messy updo bobs with each step, Y/N notices. It brings a soft smile to her lips and provides a second of distraction. She’s bordering on the line of anxious as she walks with Robin into the mostly empty cafe. Robin senses it, too. She reaches her hand out to graze Y/N’s arm as they come to stand in line.

“You deserve a night out, little bird. You’ve worked yourself too hard this semester.” Robin says, her voice holding an equal amount of stern and love for Y/N.

And she’s not wrong. Y/N knows it, too. She’s positive Niall is well aware of it, too, considering his empathy when she was ill. But, the thought of saying yes still fills her tummy with nervous rumblings. Even as she types out the word, thumb hovering over the send button.

“Let your hair down. It’s just one night.” Robin says, eyes glancing down at Y/N’s phone screen.

And Y/N knows she right, so she hurriedly presses the send button before shoving the phone into her friend’s hands. She sighs and mumbles something about being afraid to look when he answers.

“He’s already asked you, Y/N. What else could he possibly say?”

It’s not so much what he says that has Y/N reeling as she steps outside of her apartment building. It more has to do with the way Niall is leaning so nonchalantly against a black Range Rover that she can very nearly see her reflection in. A perfectly knotted tie sits atop a crisp white shirt and beneath the blazer of a surely overpriced tuxedo.

The sight reminds her of the first night they met, but her face doesn’t pinch up in annoyance when he smiles at her. Not even when he pushes himself from the car door, hands still shoved in his pockets. He looks the picture of ease and Y/N envies him slightly. Her bones are still rattling with nervousness. It brings on an external shiver that she tries to pass of as the result of the night air.

“You look beautiful,” Niall says easily, pulling his hand from his pocket to open the door as she nears the curb.

It would all be really cliche if this was actually a date, she thinks. Plucked right out of a movie.

“Thank you,” she says, careful to pinch the slit of her dress together as she climbs into the passenger seat.

The high slit of the black dress is tasteful enough for an event like the Tomlinson Foundation Benefit, but exposes enough of her leg to make her feel slightly uncomfortable under Niall’s quick gaze. Not because she can feel the way his eyes are trailing up the soft skin of her legs–which he does for just a moment before he catches himself–but because she has never felt this exposed in front of him.

Niall grins back at her before letting the door shut and wandering over to his own side. He’s pulling out of his parking spot before Y/N has clicked her seatbelt in. Something she would chatsie anyone else for, but she doesn’t feel all that unsafe in the car with Niall. Quite frankly, he makes her feel timid and calm at the same time. Both wash over her in waves while she just tries to stay afloat. She would prefer if she could just float lazily at the surface, in control and unattached, but his presence hardly allows for that.

“I’m glad you decided to come with me tonight, Y/N.” Niall says with a momentary glance that lands on her profile. “S’gonna be a good night. Louis’ events always are.”

Y/N doesn’t doubt it, either. She might have done a little bit of research on Louis and his benefit after she had agreed to attend. Short phrases entered into a search engine quickly loaded picture results for the event. The one they are attending is only the third annual one, but there appeared to be no shortage of A-list celebrities and well-known footballers. Another quick search turned up results for the purpose of the event and solidified Y/N’s reason for going.

(Louis had developed the benefit to raise money for various charities that helped children and families in need. Some were sports related, others to help children battling childhood cancer. Regardless of the way it which it benefitted kids, Louis tried to support it).

“I’m glad I did, too.” Y/N admits, adjusting the clutch in her lap to sit more comfortably between her thighs.

Niall didn’t tell her that they would essentially be sitting in front of all of the attendees. They were sat across from Louis and to the left of some football players that played for Doncaster. I mean, she doesn’t really mind it all that much when she is wandering through the crowd to get to the bar, but she minds it more when they’re sat for dinner and long speeches.

So, when everyone is given permission to mingle and have fun, Y/N does. Niall had long since excused himself to speak with a few old friends and potential new clients. Y/N is alright once she finds a nice tennis player that doesn’t intimidate her like the rest of the attendees. He’s only sipping at a glass of champagne while Y/N rambles on about how she even came to be at the event because she thinks it is painfully obvious that she does not fit in with the crowd.

But Alexander, the tennis player, reassures her that she doesn’t need to fit in. Even tells her that he came to talk to her because of it. It makes her already alcohol-induced flush heat up even further beneath her makeup. She can feel the heat blossom lower on her cheeks and tries to ignore her increasing heart rate. Because Y/N tries hard to remain independent, in control. Cute boys with strawberry blonde hair that are likely harmlessly flirting with her doesn’t exactly scream independent and control.

But, when she catches a glimpse of Niall across the room, she’s reminded that tonight isn’t about being either one of those things. He invited her out to relax and not worry about her upcoming assignments or when the rent is due. (Or how she’s going to scrounge up enough money to pay for designer shoes that aren’t even for her). She does her best to compartmentalize them in some corner of her mind where she can ignore them for a few hours. At least to the extent where she can have a little bit of fun and not worry about wasting her time with some boy.

Niall’s stay on her even as she turns her attention to the boy across from her. He hardly recognizes him, but the pang of jealousy still leaves a lasting sting. He doesn’t try to convince himself that it’s something else because he knows damn well that it’s not. Though, he hadn’t thought he liked her quite as much as to be jealous of someone flirting with her. But, he is and Louis is quick to pick up on it.

“You’ve been watchin’ her all night, mate.” Louis laughs, nudging him with his elbow.

Louis takes a long swig of his beer, eyes watching Niall finally drag his watchful gaze from Y/N. His image is slightly clouded by the caramel covered glass, but he can still see the way Niall attempts to smooth out his features. Wiggling his jaw, slightly sore from being clenched just slightly. Pulling his shoulders from his ears and letting a sigh fall from his lips.

“S’obvious, isn’t it?” Niall chuckles, the sound dry in his ears.

He knows he’s essentially fucked. That he is the one who fucked himself over by hiring her.

“Well…” Louis leads, leaning against the mahogany wood of the bar. “Don’t know why you didn’t just ask her out on a date if you were goin’ to stare at her all night anyway.”

“She’s my assistant,” he stresses the last word to remind himself.

“Hardly looks like that’s all she is to you,” Louis laughs and it’s times like this that Niall wishes he wasn’t so cheeky. “Why’d ya hire her if you fancied her this much?”

Niall stays silent because he doesn’t want to admit he hadn’t thought it through. Simply thought that it would be a great way to bring them closer. He hoped it would make her see that he isn’t all that bad. Not nearly as arrogant as the day they had met. At least not all the time.

“Does she even know ya like her?” Louis persists, a smirk now playing at his lips. He takes Niall’s extended silence as a no. “School age stuff, innit? You’ve got to at least tell her.”

Niall knows that Louis is egging him on, but he knows that is with good intentions. Louis knows him well enough to know that his friend hardly ever gets jealous over some girl. He thinks it is safe to assume that Y/N is more than that. Significantly more than that based off the way Niall’s eyes wander back over to her during the lull in their conversation.

She’s laughing at something the strawberry blonde boy has said and a delicate hand comes to brush his arm. Louis watches a frown settle on Niall’s features. He’s pouting, really. But, Louis doesn’t want to overstep his bounds tonight.

“Could tell her on that business trip you’ve got comin’ up,” Louis suggests, “You did say you were bringing her along, yeah?”

The trip to Barcelona had completely slipped his mind despite his correspondence with another agent there. He had intended to invite Y/N along, but his intentions had been purely business. With a multiplicity of potential new clients to meet and a few sporting events to attend, he knew he would need help.

But, perhaps Louis’ suggestion isn’t all that ludicrous. Maybe the sun, food, and time together will suddenly make a relationship blossom organically. Or maybe and more likely, Niall needs to buck up and tell Y/N he likes her.

#i&t update #niall horan x reader #niall horan x you #ceo!niall #niall horan fanfic #1dff #niall horan series #niall horan fic #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #my writing

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farmingsimulator20tricks · 5 years ago

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Farming Simulator 20 Guide

Farming Simulator 20 Guide is another thing to assist you with showing signs of improvement at Farming Simulator 20. There's an in-game radio as well, however this should possibly be utilized if in desperate need of some additional foundation clamor. In Short: Its gradual enhancements will pacify fans however it does little to allure new players, in what is as yet a dry and requesting sim that is without character. Experts: Slightly preferable investigating past portions, with progressively authorized homestead hardware for fans to slobber over. Online multiplayer can possibly be fun with companions. Cons: A moderate, tedious interactivity circle that requires long stretches of performing repetitive undertakings with little result. Where dashing sims compete for very good quality Porsches and Ferraris, Farming Simulator 19 has figured out how to land mythical brands, for example, Massey Ferguson and John Deere. So in the event that the idea of towing a formally authorized trailer some way or another stimulates you, at that point Farming Simulator 19 is unadulterated foulness. Whichever vehicles you put your focus on, you're going to see a lot of them. As usual, a significant part of the Farming Simulator experience spins around driving all over a similar course, developing fields, planting seeds, and holding back to collect the yield endlessly. The baffling draw separation is likewise an issue, and this can influence ongoing interaction. Has the opposite finish of this field been gathered or not? It's regularly hard to tell the situation past your little draw separation sweep. Hitting the left stick raises your guide with every one of the yields (in spite of the fact that colourblind players may think that its extreme to pursue the shading key) and the condition of some random field in realtime, and soon you'll comprehend what's the place without checking, however it's as yet bothering to be not able see what's at the opposite finish of the field you're in. Without precedent for the base game, soybeans, sunflowers, and oilseed radishes are presented as growable yields. In past games, the player would have needed to download a change to include these harvests. The harvest developing mechanics have been modified, to enable various approaches to build crop yield. These incorporate treating the fields on different occasions all through the development stages, furrowing the field after a set measure of harvests, de-weeding yields, or utilizing oilseed radish as a spread harvest. [10] The missions framework were additionally refreshed, enabling the player to do work for other in-game ranchers. It's somewhat befuddling yet fundamentally implies that odd-numbered portions are the place engineer Giants Software pushes the arrangement forward by including new highlights. Be that as it may, precisely what those new highlights are would be difficult to choose on the off chance that they weren't imprinted on the rear of the container (or download screen). They add up to your typical pontoon of minor changes and refinements, with an improvement to the game's visuals and something bad-to-the-bone fans have apparently been sitting tight for every one of these years... horse riding! It won't mean a lot to the individuals who aren't horticulture neurotics yet this most recent portion includes the most broad program of authentic vehicles and apparatuses in the arrangement. My Nintendo Points are naturally granted to the Nintendo Account that was utilized to buy the game. (If it's not too much trouble note that DLC things, passes, and subjects don't fit the bill for My Nintendo Points.) Once you're marked in, you can audit your My Nintendo focuses equalization and history, look at the most recent My Nintendo rewards, and view dynamic missions you can finish to gain My Nintendo focuses. You may likewise utilize My Nintendo Money Points to buy games for Nintendo Switch. Become familiar with Money Points. FS17 offered two maps and more ongoing interaction highlights. The main genuine advance up that FS20 has over its forerunner is the improved illustrations. Lighting, concealing, shadows, and reflections look much better. There likewise gives off an impression of being some light enemy of associating, as there are far less "jaggies." Actual model multifaceted nature seems to be on par, however it's questionable that the polygon tally is somewhat less this time around. The casing rate likewise holds up pleasantly, with a smooth 30FPS. Machine sound is still truly fresh and nitty gritty, and every motor sounds moderately sensible. Farming Simulator 20 on Switch looks extraordinary and gives a generally tolerable sim experience, yet it's not as strong as the keep going FS section on Switch because of now being progressively versatile centered. Sign in to see reasons why you could conceivably like this dependent on your games, companions, and custodians you pursue. © 2018 GIANTS Software GmbH. Distributed and appropriated by Focus Home Interactive under permit of GIANTS Software. Cultivating Simulator, GIANTS Software and its logos are trademarks or enlisted trademarks of GIANTS Software. @dartmonkey the past one depended on the 2017 pc form, this one is the most recent portable discharge. So there ought to be a couple of critical contrasts, specifically on the grounds that this one ought to be simpler to play. I never stop to be stunned at how energetic the fanbase is for these games, however on the other hand I love the Euro/American Truck Simulator games. I don't get it. You gave the past form 7/10 and this 8. This is an impaired form of that game, basically indistinguishable from the versatile game you can purchase for 5.99. Center, Focus Home Interactive its logos are trademarks or enrolled trademarks of Focus Home Interactive. All makers, horticultural hardware, farming gear, names, marks and related symbolism highlighted in this game now and again incorporate trademarks or potentially copyrighted materials of their particular proprietors. The horticultural machines and gear in this game might be not the same as the genuine machines in shapes, hues and execution. All rights saved. Every single other name, trademarks and logos are property of their particular proprietors. You can utilize this gadget creator to produce a touch of HTML that can be implanted in your site to effectively enable clients to buy this game on Steam.

#Farming Simulator 20 cheat #Farming Simulator 20 cheats #Farming Simulator 20 online cheats #Farming Simulator 20 guide #Farming Simulator 20 online guide #Farming Simulator 20 hack #Farming Simulator 20 hacks #Farming Simulator 20 online hacks

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 5 years ago

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Skincare/ makeup culture ☕️

oooh. i’ll divide this post into two parts: makeup culture and skincare culture.

(1.) makeup culture.

i think everyone knows that I’ve never liked makeup, mostly because I had relatively bad cystic acne throughout high school, that reacted badly to all of the makeup that my sister used (but most particularly her l’oreal foundation). I think makeup culture is particularly harmful to young girls, like the makeup youtube channels that are run by the parents I suppose of 8 year olds, where the 8yo is the actual youtuber.

like don’t get me wrong, i know young girls like playing with makeup (I actually did when I was that age, funnily enough)….. but the fact that professional or just plain fucking ridiculously expensive makeup palettes are now being marketed to girls in bloody primary/grade/elementary school, is just fucking wrong. and yeah there’s the post on here about how some younger girls are finding themselves ugly when they don’t wear properly applied makeup or something like that. and that breaks my heart. why the fuck should a young girl be made to feel ugly if she can’t blend like josiemaycosmetics (I made that up btw idk any makeup channels besides Jeffree star, James Charles and that tatti woman tbh) and can’t afford the bullshit Too Faced $98 powered foundation, $65 Sunday Riley blush (I roughly remember the price of this particular blush bc my sister bought it for me for my 20th birthday so that I could according to her “look good for uni” but I never actually used it lmao… and it’s no longer sold here in australia) and Kylie Jenner’s overpriced lip kits and idk Smashbox “photo finish” primer priced between $AU23-$AU55????

like I had this bad enough in fucking HIGH SCHOOL with my sister telling me that I’d “never get a boyfriend” or “never get a date for the formal/junior prom” if I didn’t spend hundreds of $$$$ for a good face of makeup and didn’t spend hours and hours learning how to do my own makeup. or how last year for my uni grad, she made out that I’d ruin my own uni grad if we didn’t spend $250 on the makeup artist we got for me….. where I unfortunately found out that my skin reacts to MAC products 😭😨 bc the MUA used MAC concealer and foundation. my sister also expected me to remember the setting spray the woman used for my makeup, when I was there from like 4:30am till like 6:45am and i was barely fucking awake. the setting spray probably could’ve easily cost over $100. let’s be real here. like why am I expected to remember shit that early in the morning???

one of my least favourite things with makeup culture is that you’re not meant to fuck it up in any way, shape or form. like when my sister did my makeup for my two high school formals/proms (year 10 & year 12) she constantly told me not to scratch my face while she was doing it (but it made me itchy, hooray for L’Oréal being shit lmao)…. not to fuck it up while I ate at those events….. and she didn’t let me eat before my uni grad last year bc “you’d definitely fuck up your makeup. don’t you dare scratch your face at all today!” like for someone who has hypersensitive/highly reactive skin that she has to scratch when it’s itchy….. and also loves fucking stuffing her face with food….. expecting me to never touch/scratch my face and to practically starve myself to preserve the integrity of my makeup (that i ended up paying for some in the end anyway) for an event is fucking stupid and over-restrictive.

like i always hated the way that the kardashians ate on KUWTK bc it looked so fucking mechanical and whatever bc they had to obvs preserve their makeup while shooting and also look nice for the camera. like why the fuck am I expected to eat ~like that~ when I have a faceload of MU on???? FUCK OFF. I will scratch it off. I will smear the food all over my face (ok not really) and eat however I motherfucking want, thank you very fucking much. like for my uni grad last year I was up from 4am and my grad ended at like 12:30pm….. so I didn’t have food til about 12:35 when I left the hall. and the whole time while I was eating my sister kept reminding me to not fuck up my makeup that we’d spent $250 on. JUST LET ME FUCKING EAT WOMAN, I SWEAR TO FUCK. lmao.

the last thing I hate the most about makeup culture is that like….. I absolutely hate makeup like I said above….. but once I have it on I feel pretty and cry a bit bc I’ll just never learn to do it myself…. mostly bc I couldn’t be bothered…. bc I save hundreds, if not thousands of $$$$ from not buying all the bullshit essential items you need just for a ~basic no makeup, makeup look~, and bc my hands have never been steady enough to use some of the things, like false eyelashes and eyelash curlers or liquid eyeliner/normal eyeliner…..

but yeah. I just hate that it makes me feel pretty???? but I also feel good and more natural without it???? and I’ll never like my sister’s comment that: “you’re the prettier one out of the two of us…. but if only you hurried up and learnt to do your makeup, you’d be even prettier” or some dumb semi-condescending shit comment she’s said to me like that before. like why is the only way a woman can be pretty (other than some clothes that make her feel good) by smearing 100s/1000s of dollars worth of makeup on???? like why the fuck am I expected to spend all that money when a good bulk of men will never bother with the male makeup trend anyway???? like why am I expected to act differently when I basically just have grown up face-paint on lmao???? I’ve never felt natural in makeup, I’ve always felt awkward and like…. not sound like an cringey edgelord emo kid…. but i never felt ~real~ wearing makeup lmao. just yeah.

but yeah I also understand makeup is an art and I appreciate that. makeup culture is so fucked on all sides for women.

(2.) skincare culture:

now skincare culture is different for me. considering that, like I said before, I had relatively bad cystic acne…. and I’ve since also developed eczema during the winter months….. so I’ve had to develop a good skincare routine over the years to keep my skin under control. but again, there are parts that I don’t like about skincare culture…. like women are typically meant to spend, again, hundreds and if not thousands of dollars on super expensive skin creams (some of which I’ve tried) to fix their fine lines, their laugh lines, their crows feet, their blemishes, their birth marks and cellulite…… the list truly goes on and on….. and on top of that (well this hellsite which isn’t entirely accurate) I’m, or we as women, are expected to teach all of that to men in their 20s???? like fuck off. why and how the fuck didn’t they get the fucking memo to look after their own goddamned skin???? like my 20s are already tiring enough, and now I gotta pass on important skincare advice to men, who could easily fucking find it themselves online???? lord help their asses lmao.

but other than the men bit…. yeah skincare culture is just as bad as makeup culture. like when Cosmo mag was still running in australia, more than half of the shit the women at Cosmo were advertising as part of their skincare routines were literally $300 night treatment creams or moisturisers; $150 facial cleansers; or $500 skin peels, or $600 appointments at dermatologists and skin therapies like electrolysis that I’ll probs never be able to afford. like one of the luxury brands that I LOVE (💖) is Mario badescu bc the two pimple treatments that i sometimes I use from them (the drying lotion and the anti-acne serum) are the ONLY two acne treatments that have NEVER made my face turn red and my skin peel off (besides a really good neutrogena one that Neutrogena discontinued 😭). every other chemist bought pimple treatment cream makes my skin peel off/itchy/turn red. but sadly the two Mario badescu treatments are priced over $50 if bought together (ones now $31 (formerly $28, this one’s great bc it dries clear), the other is like $26, this one dries pink). so the chemist bought ones like the ones by Clearasil or OXY10 are my saviours at $11.99-$12.99, even though they dry out my skin to buggery and leave big white marks on my face bc they both dry white lmao. but I’ve gotta suffer that for the price of beauty lmao.

also there’s expensive face washes (or skin care program packs etc) from Paula’s choice that I love.... but again they were like $35 for a 400ml bottle and $25 for a fucking 150ml or 250ml bottle. now the one i like is $20 for 177ml, which is a rip off. some of the other luxury things that I’ve tried (via free samples) that don’t work, like Kate Somerville (priced at like $65 and over), Philosophy and god knows what else that i’ve bought from Mecca Cosmetica, which is the Aussie version of Sephora in the past. and yes, for acne treatments, i’ve used pro-activ before. it was ok… but i never used it in high school, after the awful time we had trying to cancel our subscription to it back in the day for my sister lol.

also can we talk about the ultrasonic face brush systems that are still raging strongly??? like they’re also super rip offs, especially with buying replacement heads for $35 a pop. like I’ve had a Clarisonic for years (that I’ve stopped using, admittedly)…. the model was roughly $250 when I got it for my like 19th birthday. now they’re even more expensive at like $315 for the latest “clarisonic mia fit cleansing system” which is linked on the $315. or now there’s the foreo that costs anywhere between $75 (the cheapest model) to fucking almost $400… ie $395. the replacement heads for the clarisonic and i suppose replacement like pads or something for the foreo are meant to be replaced every three months “for optimum cleansing” or whatever. like $35 every three months is a lot to maintain after a while. also using the clarisonic added like 10 extra minutes to my showers/general skincare routine bc you’re meant to use it for five mins or whatever and then spend another 5mins washing it out to make sure that it doesn’t collect mould and buildup too much soap residue. it was just a lot of effort to use, even if it did make me feel like i had a better and deeper face washing routine.

and yes, i know there’s Lush. both my sister and i (but more my sister) were obsessed with Lush back in high school, after one of our sydney cousins introduced it to us. but Lush’s skincare stuff for pimples just never worked for us. it made me breakout more, actually. but their old apple pie and choc-orange lip balms were the BOMB. it’s a pity that they no longer make them tbh. their jelly soaps were fun to use and smelt nice too. i can’t remember much else about lush tbh lmao.

for face masks, i’ve found that store/chemist bought formula 10.0.06 or whatever works the best for my skin. but the push, especially again in cosmo and other places, to buy more expensive face-masks and like designer FMs that you should really ask a professional to use first imo, is fucking harmful, especially when you’ve got ones that take off the whole top layer of skin from your face (like the famous and the overly popular charcoal face peel masks), or so i’ve read. like it’s yikes out there. please be safe with these masks, ya’ll. and the same goes for making your own organic face masks, considering that i’ve seen posts on here about using lemon juice which is bad for your skin??? idk anyway. i also hate how with the face masks i buy, there’s about 6 different “skin-illuminating”/“skin brightening”/”skin detoxing” etc masks, that all essentially do the same fucking thing. just keep it at one and fucking go; for gods fucking sake lmao.

but yeah, skincare culture does suck just as much as makeup culture, considering that is heavily focused on women’s self-esteem and wallets…. and barely ever focuses on men. like it’s a double-edged sword tbh.

also as side notes: why the actual fuck are makeup companies still giving their makeup shades or makeup lines sexual names???? like i just found a fucking blush shade by NARS, in my research for this post, called “Orgasm”???? like what the FUCK is wrong with ya’ll??? like y’all actually have the fucking AUDACITY to really make 8 year olds say that in their makeup tutorial videos as well??? “our best selling orgasm collection” sweet lord. that sounds bad. y’all need to sort your shit out, and so do the people who name nail polish shades..

the other worrying general beauty trends that i keep getting on my facebook newsfeed are the teeth whitening systems like hismile and at home laser treatment machines… and then also the charcoal toothpastes to whiten your teeth. oh and also the facial skin “vacuums”, that suck out dirt/oil and your blackheads/pimples etc from your pores. stay safe out there everyone, and do your bloody research. don’t believe the reviews and the hype.

also finally: take your skin type and skin condition/(s) into account if you want to use any of the things that I’ve mentioned that I use/have used on this post. or that I’ve just generally mentioned, like the Clarisonic and the foreo. because what works for me, might not work for you. I’m not a skincare expert or dermatologist. check with your doctor or a skincare professional or whatever before you start using some of these things, even if you might think that it’s stupid & pointless to do so.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ask game thing #anon ask #answered anon ask #anon #answered anon #anonymous

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liray-stylespk · 4 years ago

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Dress Suits For Men - An Overview

As soon as the foundations of your business apparel are in position, you can begin adding accessories to specific identity and elegance more. The Accessories: You need to be wearing a tie in this article way too. If you are a tough no within the tie, a minimum of utilize a pocket sq. to up the accommodate's formality. Also, You should definitely match your belt with all your shoes, nevertheless In the event your go well with trousers suit, skipping the belt altogether is usually a play. Blazers or athletics jackets are classified as the dressiest glimpse throughout the code. Sweaters or dress shirts without having a top layer tend to be more dressed-down. And what’s a lot more, we stock large-finish parts as well as reasonably priced Males’s trend, this means you don’t should compromise on searching excellent simply because you’re over a price range. This offers precisely the same standard effect of intense formality like a tuxedo, but without the have to have for exotic apparel. This web site uses cookies to supply an optimized procuring working experience. By using This web site, you agree to the use of cookies in just our privateness coverage. Dismiss The Match: A tuxedo. Browse your situation in terms of what you will get absent with in this article. The no-are unsuccessful solution: A typical black peak lapel number. Black Tie is the most typical expression. No matter which term is made use Men's Wear of, any black tie function requires a tuxedo. Dressing up for just a cocktail social gathering or a marriage is definitely an practical experience in itself. Picture by M. Sanders. How ought to Adult men dress for any cocktail party? Specialist tip: your tie knot need to often conceal your shirt’s collar guiding it. Tighten it up till it does. Does cocktail apparel require a tie? Certainly, or perhaps a bow tie if you are feeling far more audacious. You may get rid of your tie as being the night goes on, but you should get there in the party wearing your tie. It is normal for a equipped go well with to show your ankles once you sit down so selecting an acceptable pair of socks is very important. Wear very long, strong-shade dress socks that are classified as the identical shade as your pants. If you request formal apparel on an invitation (and You do not belong to an incredibly rich and upper class set), realize that you're likely asking many your attendees to undergo the rental procedure. A typical white shirt is up coming with your list. Guantee that your shirt appears to be like superior when completely buttoned-up. You desire the collar to possess some substance and construction to correctly frame your tie for those who wear one particular.

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bxebxee · 7 years ago

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it’s not friendship, it’s fellowship [part 1]

Note: I wrote this with a specific image in mind because I was reminiscing about the old days when I was in youth group. I’m cautiously tagging @1honeypot because honestly… I kind of wrote this with her in mind. Happy belated to another leo I love! Happy birthday to jungkook too (it’s still 9/1 in some parts of the world). Also I’m still on hiatus, but I really wanted to get this out!

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: romance (kind of?) Warnings: Christianity Stuff of the Protestant Tradition, Self-Aware Slut Shaming, Slow Burn Word Count: 3123 Rating: N, for No Sex Yet But Soon (T)

Jungkook looks... vaguely desirable to you at this current moment in his white shirt and tie and clean, brushed hair - a realization that has you blinking from incredulous amusement because this was just the boy you grew up with on a part-time basis, only seeing him on Sundays and the periodic, non-Sunday Morning Worship church event.

Your parents remind you on no uncertain terms that your presence at church this Sunday is required. It’s the first Sunday you’re home after five weeks spent on a mission trip with the Christian Students Fellowship from your university, and you’re recovering from sunburn and jet lag. Even though you beg to skip out on morning worship just this once because you’ve already sacrificed the dermal layer of your skin in service to the Lord, there’s really no point in arguing when your father is a deacon and your mother is the treasurer. Hashtag #fucked.

“You can give testimony,” your mother jokes with a smile, and you crush the grimace that threatens to form. You’d rather eat a shoe, and you hope pastor won’t make you get up in front of the older adults and talk about your adventures in proselytizing.

So it’s on a disgusting and humid July morning that you force yourself out of bed to stand underneath a stream of cold water, trying your best to freeze away the redness from your body. You look like a molting Frankenstein – a motley mess of uneven, fried tan lines. And even with the help of the world’s most expensive primer, foundation, and concealer, there’s no hiding flaking skin. Gross. You wouldn’t hear the end of it from your little group of ex-youth-group brats.

“Do I have to go?” you ask, giving it one last college try with your mother. It’s t-minus five minutes before hauling ass in the church van where your father will make his rounds, picking up the elderly and those in need of a ride to church. “I look ugly. Everyone’s going to be too busy looking at how it’s snowing dead skin to pay attention to my testimony.”

You’ve resigned yourself to the inevitability of speaking into a microphone that countless other have spit on. Your mother gives you a sympathetic look and reaches over to blend out a stray bit of concealer you missed on your face. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad. So it is bad…” Your mother was incapable of mincing words to make you feel better, a double-edged sword in most cases.

“Jungkook won’t notice,” she says with a knowing look, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

You wince because she’s too perceptive for her own good sometimes… She pats your shoulder and climbs into the front passenger side of the van.

Is it dissociation? Is it just zoning out? You don’t move for a good thirty seconds because simply hearing his name makes you feel out of sorts. Jungkook is the unfortunate recipient of a crush that just won’t die no matter how many times you’ve tried to kill it. At this point, you’re too weary to try to stop the butterflies anymore.

[Easter Sunday, Last Year]

It is blessedly dry on Easter Sunday. College decisions have been pretty much finalized and stamped with no take-backs at this point, and you’re more relieved than happy to have made it into a second-tier Ivy League school. Finally, you are done playing the most painful waiting game known to anxious high schoolers. Ivy was still Ivy no matter the level.

Taehyung is the first person you see when you walk across the church driveway towards the chapel. He’s wearing a smart, grey suit that looks like it was almost tailored to fit his body, and it seems like he’s on greeting duty this week.

“Looking good, Waitlist,” he chuckles, referring to the pastel monstrosity of a dress that you’re wearing. At least it wasn’t floral.

“Can you not,” you grumble with an awkward tug at the fabric that’s a shade too light for your taste. “I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I wore black again.”

(“It’s Resurrection Day! Not a funeral!” your mother had lectured last year when you wore the classy, black Chanel one piece your grandmother had gotten you for Christmas.)

“Also,” you continue, “I got into college, so you can’t call me that anymore.”

“I knew you could do it,” Taehyung tells you warmly. “You were always the nerd of the group.” His congratulatory remarks are genuine and in good humor. He hands you the program for the service, and you head inside through the white double doors.

You inhale deeply, inaudibly, and remind yourself not to fidget too much in the chiffon.

“Happy Resurrection,” says one of the older, married women in the church when she sees you. It’s not quite time for service to begin just yet, so some of the congregation is milling about. “You look lovely.”

You paste on as smile that you hope looks genuine. “Thank you. And happy Resurrection to you as well.” The words are rushed out, and you pass her by with a slight incline of your head.

There is a loud sound coming from one of the back rows of the chapel. You can see Jungkook and Jimin laughing, the backs of their heads shaking atop their shoulders as they take turns slapping each other’s arms and guffawing. Ever since graduating from kid’s church years ago, they had always sat next to each other in one of the back rows alongside Taehyung and Hoseok. A part of you never stopped envying them for their camaraderie and how their parents let them do whatever they wanted.

With calculated, rapid steps, you breeze past the oblivious boys to sit in your spot next to your parents in the front. It felt uncomfortable enough to have Taehyung comment on your dress, and you really didn’t need Jimin or, heaven forbid, Jungkook to make a light-hearted joke about your uncharacteristically bright-colored ensemble for the day.

The laughter pauses when you’re three steps in front of them, and you know they’ve seen you. You don’t turn your head to check.

The Easter service is pretty good. Surprisingly, pastor has some new material for a subject that’s been done to death. You wonder how many permutations existed for preaching about the resurrection in a fresh, new way; sometimes it felt like watching a movie with the ending spoiled. Your mind doesn’t wander as much as it did in previous years, but maybe it’s because you’re desperately trying to repress the discomfort of the Dress.

After the pastor gives the benediction, you’re fully prepared to cut out of “bible study” tea time and small talk with the excuse of studying for finals. It’s the dumbest thing ever, but you already have your follow-up lie handy (“I can’t slack off even if I did get into college, just in case.”). And the best part is that everyone would believe your overachieving ass would actually go home and open up a textbook.

But before you get to slip out, you are intercepted by Jimin who looks like he’s about to give you his obligatory words of congratulation. Taehyung and Jungkook follow close behind.

“I just heard,” he says softly, proving you right. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

It’s awkward - so, so awkward. And maybe it’s because he’s still not over your botched confession from last year where you told him how much you liked him during the annual retreat. Honestly, it was a poor life choice on your part because right after you confessed, your feelings for Jimin practically evaporated into thin air within a week. So when Jimin let you down gently a couple weeks later, it felt like nothing. You didn’t care one bit, but he thought you cared. You never had the heart to tell him about your fickle emotions when he put so much effort into crafting a rejection that wouldn’t hurt you.

“Can’t believe our babies are leaving the nest,” Taehyung sighs wistfully in a purposeful, dramatic way. He’s going for the contrived joke route to dispel the tension in the air.

“I’m not a baby,” Jungkook groans in a long-suffering way, as if he’d repeated the same statement at least one hundred times. “Congrats by the way,” he tells you as an afterthought.

“Only babies say they’re not babies,” Taehyung laughs.

Your eyes settle on Jungkook as he rolls his eyes in that signature, bratty way of his and mimics Taehyung in mocking tribute. Somewhere in between the word “babies” and Taehyung pushing Jungkook into the armrest of a nearby pew, you get the feeling that something is very much different about Jungkook today.

Easter Service meant formal-ish wear, so Jungkook is wearing a full suit minus dress shoes, much to his mother’s chagrin. His sneakers are a sharp contrast to the ironed pants, and the blazer is laying on a seat somewhere in the chapel. But the most important thing you grasp is that the suit that had always been a few sizes too big fits him just right today, and suddenly things click in your mind.

Jungkook went to the local public school with Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin, the other youth group brats of the church; you attended a Christian private school. The two of you were never close enough to cross over the boundary of Church Friend designation, but you were still the type of friends to spend hours swimming and biking together during retreats.

Growing up, Jungkook wasn’t even a blip in your radar of Potential Boyfriends. Your eyes and heart naturally gravitated towards the older boys in church who were cooler, smarter, and nicer than Mr. Jeon’s weirdo son who used to sit in a corner and speak to no one. First impressions were everything, and at age eleven, you had decided to tolerate Jungkook since your precious Hoseok took a liking to him.

But right now, at this very moment as you observed the three boys in front of you joke about college and life, Jungkook’s laughter gets your heart racing.

And wow - you are really that fickle...

[T-Minus 1 Minute Before Leaving, Present Day]

“Wanna drive?” your father asks, dangling the key to the vans as he walks up next to you. You shake your head.

“I can’t park that thing,” you reply, rejecting his offer not unkindly. You could have taken your own car to church, but your father had wanted to go as a family for your first Sunday back.

You sit in the first seat behind your father with your Dutiful-Daughter face pasted on as he drives through three different towns to pick up the Old Folks. Their children have long since put them in homes, but they refuse to change churches even though they live too far away. You understand that this is their only way of socializing with friends; you just hate to be involved in the transportation aspect.

The elderly members of the congregation have always been nice to you since you were never a problem child, so it’s not unpleasant to greet them as they pile into the car with their canes and hats and shawls. They ask about school (“it’s going well, thank you”), boys (“oh, I couldn’t possibly date right now when there’s no time”), and how pretty you’ve gotten minus the sunburn.

“I remember when you were this big,” one elderly woman chuckles, holding out her hands to mimic the nineteen-and-a-half inches of your birth size. “You were so tiny growing up. You and Jungkook. Now look at the two of you.”

You catch the reflection of your mother’s eyes in the rear view mirror before looking away. This would be a long ride.

The Easter Realization had made you grateful for the fact that Jungkook would be going away to college on the opposite side of the country from you; it had been your experience that distance was the perfect method to erode away at any emotional hold over your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was act on some tiny inkling of lust over a boy from church. You grew out of your crushes over Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin (in that order), and you were not at all interested in fixating over another boy from youth group who went away to college and came back changed.

Except of course, the story never goes like that, and fixations have their own, stubborn, unique life cycles.

It was almost like an out-of-body experience to see yourself obsessing over his facebook during your first semester of college. Realistically, there were Plenty Of Other Fish In The Sea, but seeing him tagged in mildly compromising pictures with older, tall girls unburdened by the label of church brat made you feel a little bit worthless on the inside if you were being completely honest in all your dramatic repulsiveness. It was an uncharitable, ugly thought but you secretly referred to them as “sluts” in the comforts of your mind, while liking his pictures out of reciprocal duty. He had always left likes on your pictures, so you couldn’t not do the same.

Spring semester went exactly the same with respect to your dumb emotions concerning Jungkook (who looked so fucking good when he came back home for winter break with a tan and muscles). In your desperation, you had even asked your mother to pray for you to snap out of this crush.

After being fed up with feeling so hung up on Jungkook for no reason other than Raging Lust, you managed to get in touch with Skinny Joshua Hong from the Christian Students Fellowship and volunteered to be a part of the summer mission trip. The less you saw of Jungkook the better, and your parents were through the fucking roof their daughter would be the first one amongst the youth group brats to embrace the ChristianCollegeLyfe.

But if you thought five weeks in a remote location without any access to social media could have cured you of your stupid crush… well you were dumb to even hope. The minute you got wifi after the plane touched down back home, your ass was on facebook and scrolling for updates. Pathetic.

This is your mental state as it relates to Jungkook when your father finally parks the van in the church parking lot. The elderly climb out of the vehicle gingerly, and before you can even get out of the car to assist them, you catch a glimpse of hazel hair as Jungkook rushes over to help.

“Grab onto my arm,” he offers the same elderly woman who had called him “tiny” when he was younger. She actually giggles when she grips his bicep. “Watch your step.”

With a gulp, you open the car door on your side, and assist the rest of the passengers in getting out. Your parents walk into the building first along with the elderly folks. You take your time in shutting to door once you’re done, hoping that he would have already gone in without you.

“Hey.”

No such luck.

After not seeing him for many, many months, Jungkook looks taller if that were even possible. Maybe it’s his posture; maybe it’s the fact that his scrawny arms were now mildly peapod-shaped from regular exercise. Whatever it was, he looks taller and much more like a man than you anticipated. He’s wearing a light blue collared shirt that looks hastily ironed. The collars are pressed in an uneven shape around his neck. On him, it looks charming.

“Hi,” you reply with the eloquence of a cow because you honestly cannot think properly with him so close to you.

“Have a good summer so far?” he asks while the two of you make your way to the building as well.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an attempt at nonchalant coolness. “You?”

“Can’t complain,” Jungkook shrugs right back, looking much cooler than you could ever be on your best day. “Did you like the mission trip?”

“My soul did,” you answer, “But my skin did not.” And right after those words leave your mouth, you want to hide because why on earth did you bring attention to the flakes when he wasn’t even there yet?

There is a pause where you have to wait for him to evaluate the status of your skin. You can see the movement of his eyes trace the contours of your face before making eye contact once more.

“It’s not that bad,” he finally says, complete Déjà vu from earlier.

You give him a disbelieving look. “If I shook my head right now, it would snow.”

Jungkook purses his lips to reign in a laugh that might have potentially hurt your feelings just the smallest bit. “You should have seen me after spring break,” he tells you. “My back looked like one of those world maps… with all those continents and countries and stuff. Except it was my skin.”

The two of you enter the church building, and before you go up to the front to sit with your parents as usual, Jungkook stops you with an “oh by the way.”

“What?”

“Taehyung-hyung was thinking about having dinner with all of us since Hoseok-hyung is back for summer break too and since we’re all in college now,” Jungkook explains. “Do you wanna go?”

Your heart is more overjoyed than it should be. No matter how many times you tell yourself in the span of one and a half seconds that this is an obligation invite, not some date request, you can’t help but to melt.

“Yes,” you answer, voice moderately firm enough for your liking.

“Cool,” Jungkook smiles. “We haven’t figured out a place just yet, so if there’s somewhere you wanna go…”

“I’m fine with ev-anything,” you say, catching yourself from saying “everything” before you became too obvious.

He groans. “I knew you were going to say that.” Jungkook looks glum. “We’re going to eat fast food at this rate…”

You would be fine with grass and weeds if that meant hanging out with Jungkook outside of church-related events.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” you tell him.

“If you have any recommendations…”

“I’ll let you know.”

Jungkook looks satisfied at that answer. “Okay. Text me if you have anything then.” He glances over to your parents who are busy talking with pastor up at the front. “Can’t wait to hear your speech.”

“Kill me,” you sigh. You didn’t enjoy the feeling of having everyone’s eyes and ears and attention span trained on you.

“Hang in there,” Jungkook tells you with a pat on your shoulder. The pat feels like hell fire, and you imagine six different ways to Sin with him.

#bangtan bookclub #btswriters #noonanet #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #member: jungkook #l m f a o #genre: idk

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writing-royza · 7 years ago

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A Murder Most Festive - Chapter One

A/N: Happy Monday, everyone, and whatever holiday you are celebrating, I wish you the very best one possible. You have all been so wonderful to me with your readership, your reviews, your messages, and the best gift I can think to give you all is a new holiday fic! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, or anything else. With love, from me.

Also, I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes in this; I was up until one a.m. finishing this and though I have proofread it, I've got a sneaking suspicion there's one or two things that slipped through. Bear with me. ;)

I do not own FMA.

A Murder Most Festive

Chapter One

A light snow fell across Central City, eddying with the winter breeze in the golden glow of the streetlamps. It coated the half-completed reconstruction of Central Command, turning the scaffolding and exposed wooden framing white, and blending in with the pale stone walls.

Light flooded from the windows of the Presidential Residence; the majestic house had escaped the destruction wrought by Father with only easily-cleaned singeing of its bricks.

Waiting on the front porch, his hands in the pockets of his coat for warmth, Roy felt no less uneasy. Until very recently, this magnificent building had held one of the most dangerous men in the country, and for him, there were still traces of Bradley's power present. Some dark essence of the man that had seeped into the very foundation and would take time – and maybe an exorcism – to eliminate.

He dropped that particular train of thought, his attention fixing on the black sedan that approached. He glanced at his watch. Right on time….

Moving down the steps, out from under the cover of the porch, he waited until the car stopped before reaching out to open the rear passenger door. He smiled, offering a hand to the woman inside. "Perfect timing; I'm glad you were able to join us this evening."

Giving a small, reserved smile, Mrs. Bradley accepted his hand out of the car. "I appreciate the invitation. Though I have to say I was surprised; given the events in the spring and my connection with them, I hadn't expected anything."

The years as a politician's wife had left the woman very skilled in concealing her point under casual conversation. When she had demanded an explanation of Selim's altered body, Riza had been left with no choice but to tell all, including who King Bradley had really been.* After that, the woman had been smart enough to figure out that her late husband had lived a lie with her, and somehow, miraculously, she had understood that he had had to be removed from power.

She released him and he turned to the car's other occupant, handing Riza formally out into the snowy night. He was careful to keep his gaze strictly on her face, rather than let it go wandering over the soft grey of her fitted winter coat. "Good evening, Lieutenant. I appreciate you taking the time to escort our former First Lady. I knew her security was assured with you."

Riza nodded in acknowledgement, her smile polite. "Thank you, sir. Mrs. Bradley is certainly one of the most congenial people I've ever had the distinction to guard."

Closing the door, Roy stepped forward, offering one arm to the older woman. "Well, no sense standing around out here in the cold. Shall we?"

He led Mrs. Bradley inside, Riza trailing behind, into the warmth and light of the residence's grand foyer. The chandelier glittered overhead, sending barely noticeable reflections over the walls and staircase. Garlands of cedar ranged the banisters and two huge wreaths hung on the walls either side of the door over the heads of a set of four well-dressed men. They stood at intervals along the hall, unobtrusive yet clearly security.

Standing in the centre of the room, just shaking the hands of the couple currently heading toward the ballroom, was a beaming Grumman.

"Ah! Just when I started to worry you wouldn't be coming after all!" He shook hands firmly with Roy before taking Mrs. Bradley's hand and bowing low over it. "My dear, it's a pleasure, as always. I was so glad to see you had said you would be coming; it's not a party without beautiful ladies in attendance."

Riza saw the slight pain in the woman's smile, but it was quickly masked by graciousness and a murmured 'thank you'. It had to be hard, being welcomed to a party in the house where she had lived herself, and which had been so unceremoniously yanked out out from under her.

She didn't have much time to dwell on that as Grumman came toward her, his arms outstretched. "And here's another lovely lady!" Grasping her shoulders lightly, he kissed her swiftly on both cheeks, the bristles of his moustache tickling as he did so. "Welcome, my dear, welcome!" He raised a finger in front of her nose, lowering his voice. "Make sure you check for your gift. You'll find it in the branches of the Solstice tree in the main ballroom."

Riza wondered briefly if anyone would be fooled into thinking that the blush rising in her cheeks was from the coarse moustache against her face. "You didn't have to –"

"But I did." He eased her toward the others. "Now, go on, all of you! You came here to eat, drink, and be merry, so get on with it already!"

At the entrance into the grand ballroom, a waiting attendant took their heavy winter coats. Mrs. Bradley disengaged herself from Roy's arm, patting it gently. "I'm sure you have plenty of circulating to do," she said, smiling, "and I've had more than my fill of standing by during political shop talk. Why don't you or the Lieutenant find me when you're ready to leave?"

Before he could say anything, she smiled and eased off into the throng of people filling the room. They stood at bar-height tables around the dance floor where several couples twirled and swayed to the music provided by a small band in one corner.

Riza moved up to a spot just behind Roy's right shoulder. "Shall we, sir?"

"One stop-off, first," he answered, before tucking his hands into his pockets and starting toward the bar at one side of the room. "I'm not tackling power-play schmoozing without a drink in me."

She followed him, smiling to herself, as far as an empty table, where she waited. She watched him move through the people until the majority of him was hidden, then let her gaze sweep the room.

Most faces were unfamiliar to her, but here and there, she spotted ones she knew. General Hakuro and his wife, Major Armstrong trailing his eldest sister, Havoc, Rebecca, and Breda staying close together as they moved through the crowd, Falman standing near a watchful Major Miles and looking like he felt out of place, and Fuery just arriving. The Elrics, she remembered, had been invited but with Alphonse still slowly regaining strength, they had opted to stay home.

Good thing, too, she mused. They haven't had a true home for years. Better that they take all the time they can to enjoy it.

Roy appeared at her elbow, carrying two drinks: a tumbler of whisky for himself and a glass of white wine for her. She watched his eyes roam the length of her in less than a second, taking in the gold-shot dark red sheath dress with its Xingese-style collar, cap sleeves, chiffon overlay on the skirt and the slit that extended up the side as far as mid-thigh.

He leaned close, his voice a dangerous sexual purr. "I don't think I've had the chance to tell you how incredible you look," he said, his eyes roving the room as hers had done. "If I'm going to have to keep myself in check all evening, at least assure me that I'll be rewarded for it?"

She glanced at him sidelong, smiling with faint slyness. "Only if you'll promise me the same," she answered casually, taking her wine glass. "You know I can't resist a man in a good suit."

The evening was still young, barely nine o'clock, when the band paused in its repertoire and Grumman stood forward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A hush fell over the gathering, and the old man beamed. "Thank you. First of all, let me say what a pleasure it is to have you all here this evening. It has been an eventful year, and I can think of no greater way to celebrate my first Solstice as Führer-President than by with all of you."

He paused, and there was a short smattering of polite applause. "Second, I would like to remind you that this is a party. The lights are up, the dance floor is clear -" Here, he raised his glass of sherry. "-and the bar is open!"

He raised the glass higher in a toast as laughter rippled from the crowd. "Happy Solstice, everyone!"

"Happy Solstice!" the echo came back, followed by much clinking of glasses and several people downing the last of their drinks before starting toward the bar for refills.

Grumman stood still a moment, searching the crowd, then started to where Roy and Riza stood. Roy had started a second drink, feeling a little more braced against an evening full of small talk and nice-making, Riza still nursing her first. He smiled, though not as strongly as before.

"I hate to taint the festivities with business," he said, lowering his voice as he stopped in front of them, "but I wouldn't do it without necessity." His gaze went to Roy. "If you could meet me in the library in half an hour, I have some last-minute paperwork regarding the work in Ishval that requires your signature."

Roy frowned, puzzled. "We weren't expecting anything new, were we?"

"No, but that's the way it goes in this game," Grumman sighed fatalistically. "Something always comes up." Recovering his good humour, he patted the younger man on the shoulder as he passed. "But it doesn't have to be right this minute. Half an hour!"

Watching him go, Roy felt himself grimace automatically. "He's right on one point," he said, almost under his breath. "Something always comes up. It's never just a nice night out at a party."

"It's ten minutes of reading over whatever paperwork they've come up with and signing your name to it," Riza said soothingly. "Ten minutes out of three hours or so doesn't amount to much; it doesn't have to ruin your evening." She nodded toward the huge double doors at one side of the ballroom that led deeper into the residence. "And besides, I doubt you're the only one that has business to take care of tonight."

"True…."

"He's not," a deep voice rumbled from beside them. Alex Louis Armstrong had stopped, his hands folded behind his back, looking almost close to normal in a conservative dark suit, white shirt, and pink bowtie. "He asked to see me in fifteen minutes regarding a case for the Investigations Office."

Roy grinned. "Next thing, he'll want a report from your sister on how many Drachman spies her garrison has caught in the last six months."

"Knowing her, she would be able to tell you the exact number from memory." Armstrong looked around, frowning slightly. "Though I haven't seen her for a while…." The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Perhaps she's already being forced to make that report."

"That would be a shame," Riza commented casually. "I was hoping for a chance to chat and catch up. She likely has some information on a certain shared contact that I was hoping she would pass on to us."

Armstrong no doubt understood the veiled reference to Scar, but said nothing. "Unfortunately, my dear sister isn't in much of a chatting mood," he said, smile disappearing. "Our mother quite literally forced her into wearing a dress this evening and Olivier is not…." He hesitated. "How shall I put this…. She continues to be… resistant."

Smothering an amused smile, Riza nodded. "I can't say I blame her entirely," she said, before casting a look at Roy. "Just another one of the irritating little necessities that surround gatherings like this…."

Roy lifted a curious eyebrow. "I'm still wondering how your mother managed to 'force' the Major-General into a dress."

Armstrong's smile returned, this time looking slightly knowing. "I say 'forced,' but I really mean that they compromised. Olivier agreed to wear a dress, but only on the grounds that she also be allowed to wear her sword."

The Major departed a few minutes later for his appointment with Grumman, leaving Colonel and Lieutenant briefly alone.

"Have you checked for that gift he mentioned?" Roy asked, eyes straying toward the huge Solstice tree, covered in glittering lights and silver ornaments at one end of the ballroom.

Riza shifted, her expression distinctly uncomfortable "Not yet…. To tell the truth, the idea of him giving me something makes me…. It doesn't sit well, for whatever reason."

"He's reaching out." Putting a hand on her lower back, he gently nudged her forward. "Give him a chance."

They wove their way through the crowd toward the tree, spending another minute searching among the branches before Riza pulled a plain white envelope from a spot recessed among the needles. Her name was written on the front in Grumman's sprawling hand. She passed her wine glass to Roy before taking hold of one corner, preparing to tear the end open.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!"

Armstrong's voice boomed easily over the murmur of conversation and soft music. Heads turned, and the band ground to a disjointed halt as the burly man soberly surveyed the room. Roy felt himself tense as security guards began filing into the room.

"Pardon the interruption, but an incident has occurred that requires the entire residence to be locked down: no one in or out. Your cooperation is expected and appreciated."

His searching eyes found Roy and Riza, and his expression became even more grim. "Colonel; Lieutenant. I'll need you to come with me."

*See Snap Shots #187

Chapter Two: http://writing-royza.tumblr.com/post/168936332110/a-murder-most-festive-chapter-two

#fma #fmab #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royza #royai #holiday fic

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