#he said I wear a lot of flowery clothes and ‘funny shirts’

[floral-hex]

My therapist asked if I dressed ironically and I had to assure him that no, I just really like florals

[mushroom-trafficking]

bing bong ask meme tell me about them please

Benji 1, 18, 39

Max 2, 12, 23

Archie 13, 17, 28

Putting this one under a cut!

Benji:

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

“Rarely is there truly ever nothing to do. There is always something I can busy myself with. The only thing I dislike more than boredom is wasted time. Any time not utilised is time wasted. I can barely withstand five minutes without engaging in something.”

18. What embarrasses them?

“Oh. Wouldn’t you like to know.”

It actually takes quite a lot to embarrass him. Usually he’s the one embarrassing others because of this. It took him long enough to get over embarrassment to just wear the clothes he enjoys so he tried to not let anything get in the way of what he enjoys. The worst thing you can do however is be direct with him, he’s very flowery and indirect about things if you get what I mean. Calling him out on his bullshit works wonders too.

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

“Name me someone who isn’t flawed! We’re all just trying to get by and do what we can, hard to be perfect when around every corner is someone trying to ruin your day.”

The answer is INCREDIBLY easily. He’s no saint himself. He’ll readily ignore quite glaring issues if you help him with whatever it is he wants done. Besides openly flawed people have no right to judge when they’re also working with a flawed idiot.

Max:

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

“Eh, not a lot of people are actually that funny.”

Max tends to steer towards dark humour as a coping thing, but not a lot of people find that shit funny. He rarely lets down his guard enough to enjoy the humour of those around him. It’s usually something really daft will get him going. Ya’know like when you send your Dad a funny animal video and he’s crying with laughter when it’s not really that funny? That kinda thing. Once you find that niche you’re in.

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

“Sometimes if I’m lucky the mutt can sort it out, but not always. I gotta be careful on account o’ the whole, ya’know, claw situation. I shredded a shirt once trying to get to a spot on my back. Not my… Proudest moment.”

Max’s death is able to touch him at times, not constantly, but enough. Sometimes he gets lucky and it can sort it out for him! Personal back scratcher! Though if that won’t work he sometimes just fucking rolls around like a damn dog if no one else is around. Catch him rubbing himself on a tree like a bear and watch him run faster than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

“I’ve started tryin’ to just go after the shit I want. I’ve spent long enough not getting what I want from life I think I’m deservin’ of shit finally going my way for a change.”

Envy itself isn’t something Max struggles with often. He’s a former rich kid so he knows how the other half have lived and he’s pretty much over it at this point. Though he is incredibly resentful overall, he’s got a lot of unlearn and get over.

Archie:

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

“Oh, uh. Hmmmm. BEST? Oh man, that’s hard. I like most colours pretty equally… It’s so hard to pick a favourite… My Ma always said I look good in white… But I think everyone looks good in white! It’s WHITE! Hm. I think. I think it’s gotta be between turquoise or burgundy! But I don’t have much of either at the moment sadly…”

Archie hasn’t really been allowed to explore his options much fashion wise. But now he’s loose on the town there’s nothing stopping him from trying out new styles! He does struggle with picking a favourite colour though, his ideal thing to wear would be one of those colour block jumpers where each part is a different, bright colour.

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

“N…No… (10 second pause) Okay. Yes. I never used to get this flustered back home but out here in the dust it’s… A bit more. Intimidating. I know the wings are a lot but c’mon!! Quit staring!!”

The youngest of three Archie actually had a pretty thick skin back home. Especially being of demonic descent, people get pretty judgy. But that quickly faded getting out into the real world. With any luck he’ll build it back up over time once he’s a bit more used to it out in Red West.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

“The truth is ALWAYS the best option!!”

Dealing with the ramifications of certain withheld truths, Archie wants nothing but the honest truth. Even if it hurts. Though it’s quickly becoming apparent that the truth is not something post people enjoy sharing around here. Archie only believes in lying for the bit.

[dfdph]

Spotlight - Prologue

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook x Reader (female)

Genre Actor AU | Hollywood AU | Exes to Lovers AU | Romance | Fluff | Angst

Warnings Mentions of cyber bullying

Word count 3.5k

Summary “Her stylist had chosen a wonderful black Elie Saab Haute Couture for the occasion. The gown was long, sleek and structured, with overlaying tulle and tafta, the top was semi-transparent, with long sleeves and padded shoulders,  and the whole dress was adorned with an intricate golden embroidery that highlighted her figure craftily. Her hair had been pinned neatly in a bun on top of her head, with some twists and braids that she had no way of replicating on her own. The make up artist had played with golden eyeshadow and had drawn a strong and thick black line with the eyeliner, making her gaze sharper and sexier. Y/N looked like a chic princess warrior, ready for battle. And, somehow, she really felt like it. She wasn’t anxious only about the ceremony, she had read the lineup, she had read his name. She knew there was no avoiding him this time: her first love, Jeon Jungkook.”

©️ dfdph, 2021 - All rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

     Award season was the period of the year Y/N hated the most. Despite being in the entertainment industry since she was a teenager - and now being in her late 20s -, she still couldn’t get used to the stress it put her through. She actually looked forward to dressing up and posing in front of dozens and dozens of photographers at the beginning of her career, but now that she had made a name for herself, now that everyone knew who she was, Y/N would gladly stay in her king sized bed watching some movie instead. Unfortunately, even if she wanted to, there was no way she could avoid attending this season’s ceremonies. 

     The past year had been Y/N’s most rewarding yet. She had been in fact casted by a renowned and award-winning director as the main character of his new historical movie, which turned out highly successful at the box office - earning more than $110,000,000 on its opening weekend - and highly acclaimed by the critics who had praised, not only the cinematography and the intricacy of the plot, but especially Y/N’s performance - described as raw, heartbreaking and graceful. To no one’s surprise, she was soon nominated as Best Actress in most of the award events, winning all of them despite the high competition and enriching the collection of trophies she had displayed in her home office.

     When she debuted ten years ago with a minor role in an episode of a television series she only dared dreaming of reaching such a peak in her career. She could have never imagined that she would become one of the highest paid actresses in the industry, that she would afford buying her dream car and her dream house in Los Angeles, and that she would have millions of fans supporting her all over the world. Yet, there she was, getting ready for ‘the dream come true’, the award of the awards: the Oscars. And she, Y/N Y/L/N, had been chosen as the strongest contender in her category: Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role. She had already been nominated twice before, but this time was different, this time she felt she could actually win. Hence why she couldn’t stop walking anxiously back and forth in the 5 star hotel room her staff had booked for the day.

     Her stylist had chosen a wonderful black Elie Saab Haute Couture for the occasion. The gown was long, sleek and structured, with overlaying tulle and tafta; the top was semi-transparent, with long sleeves and padded shoulders, and the whole dress was adorned with an intricate golden embroidery that highlighted her figure craftily. Her hair had been pinned neatly in a bun on top of her head, with some twists and braids that she had no way of replicating on her own. The make up artist had played with golden eyeshadow and had drawn a strong and thick black line with the eyeliner, making her gaze sharper and sexier. 

     Y/N looked like a chic princess warrior, ready for battle. And, somehow, she really felt like it. She wasn’t anxious only about the ceremony, she had read the lineup, she had read his name. She knew there was no avoiding him this time: her first love, Jeon Jungkook.

     Y/N was a completely different woman from who she was back in high school.

     She had grown in a very poor family. Her mother had to raise her, alongside her older brother, all on her own, working long hours as a housekeeper for a rich and snob family who mistreated her and paid her just enough so that she couldn’t resign. She was a very sweet woman who had to struggle every day to give her two children the most normal life she could afford. Y/N’s father, on the other hand, was never present: an alcoholic who couldn’t keep a job for more than a month, he regularly failed to pay child support after the divorce and never once made a call to hear from them.

     Y/N understood the importance of money early on, in elementary school, when her classmates started teasing her because of her hand-me-down clothes. She was used to wear her brother’s old t-shirts every now and then and never thought too much of it. She didn’t see any difference between the rock bands pictures or the flowery prints, she didn’t realize it mattered. And when she had told her mother that those girls had laughed at her, the woman almost cried, so Y/N decided not to mention it ever again.

     Y/N grew up into a very introverted and shy teenager. She wasn’t good with socializing and generally preferred being on her own. Her desire for solitude was so evident that her classmates gave up on their attempts to befriend her and she soon became the lone wolf of their high school. By junior high, she became almost invisible. 

     Strangely enough, Y/N’s dream was that to become an actress, a profession that required a lot of things she lacked of. Confidence, to begin with, or charisma. The only thing she believed she could do was hide inside the unused storage room on the second floor and play with the old props left by the drama club. 

     She met Jungkook while doing just that. 

     The boy was just coming back from the first meeting of the Mathematics Discussion Club - of which he was the president - when he heard someone crying from a room he never noticed before. He opened the door quietly, peeking his head inside the dim lighted room, only to find the silhouette of a girl lying on the floor in a fetal position and seemingly crying her lungs out in pain. She had her hands clutching tightly her head and she was sobbing so hard that she was on the verge of hyperventilating. On instinct, Jungkook rushed to her side, his books, pencils and calculator clattering all over the floor. 

     “Are you ok?!” he screamed in worry, putting his hands over her shoulders.

     Y/N jumped up, her wailing stopping so abruptly that it made Jungkook jump as well. As it turned out, Y/N was doing nothing more than acting the part of a terminally ill girl who was suffering intense head pains - a part she had invented all on her own to test her ability with dramatic scenes. it was something she did quite often. Just the day before she was performing Meryl Streep’s part in “Into the Woods” to an invisible audience.

     “I-I’m ok.” she mumbled, drying the fake tears from her cheeks.

     “What the hell?” Jungkook murmured, looking at her in astonishment. “What was that?”

     “I was ... I was just pretending.” she replied, her voice horse from all the screaming.

     “Pretending?” he repeated as he sat bewildered on the dirty floor. “You were pretending to be in pain? Why?!”

     Y/N felt the heat rising to her face. This was the first time she had to explain her weird little secret to anyone. “Acting.”

     “Acting.” Jungkook repeated once again. “And why are you doing it in here?” he asked looking around the creepy space, with its spider webs and abandoned miscellaneous objects. “What is this place anyways?”

     “It was the old storage room of the drama club.” Y/N replied. “They don’t use it anymore. There’s no space left.”

     “I can see that.” he said staring at the shelf just above their heads that looked about ready to collapse. “So, I guess you’re not in the drama club?”

     “No.” Y/N answered looking down at her crossed legs. She wondered if he was going to snitch on her. She really didn’t want to get in trouble. Besides, it wasn’t like she was doing something that terrible.

     “I could tell.” Jungkook replied. “I saw last year’s winter play and, let me tell you, you, crying on the floor 5 minutes ago, were ten times better than that.”

     Y/N looked back at him with her mouth open in surprise. She had no idea who this boy sitting crossed legged on the floor with her was, with his white button down shirt and over washed jeans, but he singlehandedly gave her the best compliment she could wish for. “Right?!” she exclaimed sitting straighter. “I thought so too! But everybody else acted as if they saw the best performance of their lives! I knew I couldn’t be the only one who taught that their interpretation of Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra was nothing but underwhelming.”

     “Damn right.” the boy nodded in agreement. “I actually looked forward to it because I prefer it over Romeo and Juliet, but I was so disappointed. You should have played Cleopatra!” he added in an afterthought. “Why didn’t you?”

     Y/N felt herself blush once again. “I never performed in front of anyone.” she confessed. “Apart from my mother an brother, that is.”

     “That’s a shame.” Jungkook murmured pensively. “You have real talent, storage room girl. Believe me, I’m an expert.”

     Being friends with Jungkook was easy, falling in love with him was even easier. It came so naturally that Y/N didn’t even have the chance to fully realize it before they were officially dating.

     He was everything Y/N wasn’t and everything she wanted to be. Even at 16 years old he already was a very confident boy. He was incredibly smart, funny and a little bit nerdy. He didn’t belong to the upper class of their high school social pyramid, nor the middle, but he had no care in matching those standards because he loved himself for who he was - Stark Trek t-shirts, consumed tennis shoes and all. 

     In the short year the two of them were together, from junior to senior year, Jungkook became the reason behind Y/N’s happiness. She wasn’t aware of how lonely she really had been while asking to be left alone. Jungkook taught her to be open towards the world, to be curious and to believe in herself and her abilities. Thanks to him and his never ending support Y/N came to realize that she wasn’t meant to hide inside the abandoned storage room on the second floor, but she deserved the chance to follow her dreams.

     Together they filed their applications for college: Jungkook always wanted to become an aerospace engineer and had set the personal - and ambitious - goal to work for NASA; Y/N, on the other hand, had worked hard during her last year in high school to win a scholarship for whichever Performing Arts College was willing to take her in - it didn’t matter which one because she knew she started her acting career late. All she wanted was to study to become an actress, to perform on stage and bring to life incredible stories, to be someone one day and someone else the other.

     But it was such a big dream, something so fickle and risky, that Y/N couldn’t help but being overwhelmed by fear, not only for her future but that of Jungkook’s as well, because after all, despite all the changes she had gone through, a part of her was still hiding from the world. So she did something stupid, something very cliché, that nevertheless seemed the right thing to do at that time: she broke up with him.

     It’s for his own good, she had thought. He is brilliant, I don’t want to hold him back.

     Jungkook fought her and for her. He was afraid something like this would happen, he was sure it wasn’t what she really wanted, he knew she was just afraid. But Y/N was a very talented actress indeed and for a moment, as she looked straight into his dark eyes and told him she didn’t love him anymore, Jungkook felt his confidence waver.

     “I’m really thankful for what you’ve done for me.” she had said. “I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for you.”

     “Please don’t lie.” he had whispered, trying to stop the angry and disappointed tears from falling from his eyes. “Don’t pretend. Not with me.”

     “I’m not.” Y/N replied, her voice firm. “I loved you, I really did. You’ll be my first love forever, Kook.”

     And the very next day, just like in one of those cheesy television dramas her mother loved so much, she flew hundreds of miles away from him, trying to not looking back. 

     If she said she never regretted it over the following years, it would be a lie. As she started her new life, she never failed to think of him. She wondered how he was doing, if his dreams were coming true and if he ever thought of her as much as she did of him. As she grew up and matured, Y/N realized how stupid her choice had been and how important Jungkook’s role had been in shaping her personality and in breaking her shell. Y/N was sure of it: if he didn’t found her that day inside the storage room, she wouldn’t be who she was today.

     Years after she broke up with him, Jungkook still popped up into her mind every now and then. She thought of him the first time she was casted for a walk on role in a movie; she thought of him the first time her name was credited in an episode of a TV show; she thought of him the first time she won an award.

      She thought of him with regret and a little bit of melancholy. Y/N never forgot him. Not even when when became so famous she barely had the time and energy to think about herself.

      The first time Y/N heard his name spoken by someone else’s mouth, three years ago, was a complete shock. She never talked of him to anyone, apart form her mother, her brother and Jimin, her best friend and manager, so he was supposed to be a nobody to everyone else but herself. As it turned out, with a very mysterious turn of events, Jungkook had left the path towards aerospace engineering and had decided to take his chance with acting. And from what Y/N gathered from the overheard conversation, he was starting to make a name for himself as well. 

     That night, back in her multimillion dollar villa, Y/N researched his name on the internet for the first time. 

     He was new to the industry and there wasn’t much about him, it was like he popped out of nowhere. But it was definitely Jungkook, Y/N recognized him from the pictures. He had grown into a beautiful man, so handsome that she did a double take and then had to stop herself from drooling. It wasn’t like he was ugly when they were together, but he was just a skinny teenager back then and this was a man, a real man who had lost all of his baby fat and now had a razor sharp jaw and a muscular body. Apparently, he was the protagonist of an ongoing TV series that was gathering a lot of success putting him in the center of the attention. ‘The new heartthrob’, that was how he was being called.

     Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what happened after they lost contact with each other that made him change his career so drastically. Whenever she thought about him she imagined him working on some challenging project for NASA, never on a movie set. She remembered he was passionate about theatre and cinema, but never once he had expressed the desire to become an actor like her. Y/N didn’t know what to think.

     As the years passed, Y/N watched as his acting career grew, as he starred in a success after the other and as he earned the respect of even the most strict directors and critics.

     Y/N watched, yes, but from afar, never daring to contact him and secretly avoiding the chances to meet him again. 

     She had been successful, until now.

     The drive to the Dolby Theatre went far too quick for Y/N’s taste. She could barely remember how she got from the hotel room where she had been preparing to the black luxury van. Before she knew it her stylist was taking away her favorite slippers and was putting on her dress-matching Dolce&Gabbana heels.

     Y/N didn’t have the time to think. Three years of running away and finally the moment had come. Jeon Jungkook - her first love, her ‘the one that got away’, probably her biggest regret - was probably in the car behind hers.

     “Y/N, two minutes.” Jimin called out, warning her to get ready. “You know the deal. Deep breath and own that red carpet as you always do. And-”

     “I know.” Y/N interrupted him. “The left side is my best side.”

     The man, dressed up as well in a black tux, gave her a wink. “I’ll be right behind you. You got this.” he declared, looking at her intensely. “This is the one.”

     “Thanks, Chim. But from all we know I could be the next Di Caprio.” she joked, the roaring noise from the red carpet now deafening.

     “On my dead body.” he smirked. “Talk to you later, princess.”

     “Later.” she hugged him briefly. “Oh, can you please make sure my mom and Seokjin got in fine? I totally forgot to call them.”

     “Of course. My assistant is with them, anyways.” Jimin said, putting a hand on the door handle. “Ready?”

     Y/N took a deep breath, put on her best charming expression and nodded. “Ready.”

     As soon as he opened the door, Y/N was immediately hit by the boisterous and echoing call of the fans. She wasn’t sure if it was only her impression but it seemed like every single one of them was screaming her name. She was, indeed, one of the biggest names of the night, there was no use in denying it, but Y/N couldn’t help but wish they stopped making her presence so obvious.

     A young usher, pretending not so well to be indifferent and trying to be professional, guided her towards the beginning of the red carpet, hundreds of cellphones following her movements like magnets.

     “Please, come this way, miss Y/L/N.” the usher instructed in a slightly trembling voice. “There will be someone from the staff signaling you were to stop to pose for the photographers.”

     Y/N knew this already. She had attended countless of events like this, after all. Yet she didn’t say anything to the shy boy, preferring to smile at him sincerely. “Thank you very much.” she said, watching as he blushed violently.

     Y/N started her walk, Jimin and her stylist following a few steps behind to make sure that everything went smoothly. The photographers went wild as soon as they saw her, the flashes of their cameras blinding her almost angrily. She was used to it now, she had mastered the trick: squinting sexily and blinking strategically.

     As she walked slowly towards the entrance of the theatre, posing with confidence and channeling her best princess warrior, Y/N almost forgot the worries she had about Jungkook, until a new wave of screams echoed to her ears. She stiffened, even if imperceptibly. It was him, the line up said he would be walking right after her. 

     The time had finally come. Ten years had passed and she was seeing Jeon Jungkook again for the first time. 

     She continued to walk nonchalantly, every step confident and her chin up and proud. But once she reached the end of the red carpet and the photographers moved their attention away from her, Y/N couldn’t help but stop for a second, ignoring a fellow actress and ‘friend’ waving at her a few feet further. 

     She could feel him, she could feel his presence behind her back. She could either turn around and catch a glimpse of him, or resume walking and pretend he wasn’t there. It took her a couple of moments of indecisiveness, in which Jimin looked at her questioningly, before taking the umpteenth deep breath of the evening.

     She turned, the hem of her $30 000 black dress brushing almost magically over the carpet, and there he was. For a moment the memory of the nerdy boy from high school overlapped the image in front of her. She was well aware of the fact that he wasn’t that teenager anymore, she had seen his pictures, watched his movies and interviews. The boy she remembered was long gone: standing tall and proud, more than twenty feet from her, was now Jeon Jungkook ‘the actor’, dressed in a perfectly tailored night blue tux that highlighted his toned body, black patent leather shoes and impeccably styled hair.

     And he was staring - with his dark and deep black eyes - right back at her.

[crazylittlethingy]

He loves me (Part 7.5) - mall adventure

abusive!dabi x reader (eventually x hawks)

a/n: I don’t actually know if this part adds anything to the story itself but I felt like they deserved to have this little friendship moment and I think I’m starting to like Ren a little bit too much…

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

The local mall was a know place between teenagers to hang out, being avoided by older people on Fridays for the sake of their mental health. Which never actually made sense.

It had the default mall look, which consists in white and glass everywhere. The stores were anyone’s favorite part, especially capitalism’s, because they were so colorful, or colorless (Hot Topic says hi), filled with products you didn’t need but you certainly wanted and would, usually, deny those wants, but with a Naomi by your side, wanting to try on clothes and taste sweets, it was hard.

Which is how the four of you found yourselves at the first clothing store.

“(Y/N)! COME LOOK AT THIS” yelled Naomi, your local rich kid, at a nearby rack.

You walked up to her slowly, looking around to see if you liked something, and, as you looked behind you to make a comment to Keigo about a shirt with a funny quote, you realized both boys were no where in sight. Did they really leave you to deal with Naomi’s shopping spree alone?

“(Y/N)!” Said girl got to you and was dragging you to see some other rack. “Look! I need a new shirt” you highly doubted that “and these are from the newest collection! Aren’t they beautiful?”

As you were about to answer, she started to talk about the details of said collection, the material, how it was sewed, which color she thought would look good with a certain look and you did your best to listen, sometimes voicing your opinion about a certain piece, when you saw something in the corner of your eye.

Keigo was standing there, a feet or so away from you guys, walking towards you with a bright smile, wearing a flowery red hat, a striped lime green dress and jeans with a bright blue belt. Talk about 2000’s Disney. And honestly? He looked goofy, which made you laugh and him to grin at the way your laugh was so loud.

Naomi, confused, searched what caused your sudden outburst and she wasn’t disappointed, joining you and holding her stomach after a few seconds. Keigo looked satisfied with both of your reactions and started to pose for you.

“Oh my, I know, I know, I am too beautiful for your eyes and being blessed like this causes you to be filled with joy!” He said, duck pouting, with a hand behind his head and the other on his waist.

“Oh definitely, oh great fashionista” you managed to say between laughs “And what a great honor would it be if you thought me your ways”

“Hell to the no” suddenly Naomi was serious “As much as it is a good laugh I wouldn’t let you be fooled by the harlequin. And by the way… where is Ren?”

“You mean my most wonderful helper?” “Please, Keigo, the boy is too wonderful to be led into that path” pleaded Naomi.

“I see you have little faith in me Naomi” Ren murmured from behind Keigo, having been obscured by his wings. He was wearing his normal clothes.

“Ren! What are you doing with those clothes? I though you were on my side” Keigo made a pleading face, with a bout and wide eyes, resulting in a pink cheeked Ren that refused to look at him.

“Even if you are my friend, your taste is terrible” he answered, his hand covering his mouth and eyes still looking away from the giant bird man, whose pout increased.

“HA! I knew Ren was better than that!” Naomi went to Ren’s side and put her arm on his shoulder “Therefore, he’ll be my helper”

“Helper?” The other three asked.

“Yes, we’ll do a little fashion show here” the spoiled girl smiled in a way that was both beautiful and scary.

After looking through the whole store and pilling up mountains and mountains of clothing, Naomi was satisfied and gave the green light for your fashion show. Yet, even with her guidance, Keigo still insisted on adding a few of his touches to her looks or went with a combination that was completely bizarre, resulting in screams from a scandalous Naomi and laughs from you and Ren. The boy actually knew a lot about fashion too and was telling you about the color he thought would suit you and how to wear a certain outfit.

And when the time for the last outfit came, your phones were full of silly pictures of the four of you in the most outrageous outfits and funny faces, but, on that last outfit, Keigo decided to ignore Naomi and Ren decided to spread his wings a little. It took your breath away, even if the clothes themselves were ‘simple’.

Keigo was wearing a grey shirt with black jeans and black snickers with white details. But what made the outfit more special were the accessories. On one arm, he had two metal bracelets, one designed as a chain and the other as a wing, a watch with a red bird in it in, a ring on his index finger with what also reminded you of a pair of wings closing together; on the other arm was a reddish leather bracelet. And, around his neck, two chains, the one shaped as a wing dangling. He looked good and he knew it, smirking to the mirror, his eyes met yours.

You didn’t think much of the outfit chosen for you, you simply liked it because you felt it went with your personality and were surprised with how comfortable it was. When your (e/c) eyes met golden ones, Keigo’s smirk vanished, his mouth slightly agape and eyes warm. (A/n: I didn’t describe a proper outfit for you because maybe what I think is beautiful and nice may not be the thing you’d go for, so, if you want, I’d like to know what outfit you’d choose! So, please, comment!)

You were in a trance broken only by the sound of Naomi finding the outfit of her dreams, apparently. She wore a black see-through shirt, with a black piece that reminded you of a triangular bikini, light brown velvet skirt, high heeled black boots and a crystal necklace. She spun around and smiled as bright as the sun, probably already planing places to go with the outfit and, as she looked at you, it became clear that she was including you in those plans. She was a comforting force in the middle of her own caos sometimes.

“My my, don’t you look dashing, darlin’?” Her kind smile soon turned into a mischievous one as she looked at your best friend “Don’t you think she looks dashing, Keigo?”

“How about you, Naomi? Don’t you think Ren looks dashing?” He replied without missing a beat. It made your heart hurt a little when you realized he avoided her question about you.

And as none of you girls had noticed, Ren had gotten out of the fitting room. As you recently discovered, he liked to look good. You were used to him hiding in the uniform, shoulders tense, waiting for unwanted attention, and head hung low. But this Ren? He was standing tall, looking you all in the eyes, still a little bit pink, but expecting to hear your opinions. He knew what he was doing when he choose a black crop top that had a circular zipper, brown pants held by a black belt with some chains on the side (wait… was he secretly an e-boy???) and a pair of white sneakers. It was the first time you saw Naomi at a loss of words, so you offered your own.

“You’re looking sharp, Ren… and I bet Naomi totally agrees with me” said girl was looking like a fish out of water, but, at least, she nodded.

You expected Ren to turn red, like he always did when receiving a compliment, yet he surprised you once more and grinned widely, boy even dared to wink at you!

“Thanks, (y/n)-chan, it seems like you listened to me about the (f/c), it really suits you” ok, who was this Ren?

“Woah, kid, didn’t know you could wink and thank you” you replied and he laughed.

“I guess I can? I don’t know, but, sometimes, the right armor can help you through the day” as he shrugged, a little more tense, you noticed something: the uniform was a weight for him, one he carried and didn’t want to. Maybe it was something at home, maybe it was on his own mind, but, right in that moment, he was vulnerable, showing a little piece of himself he was sure about, maybe even proud of. And so were you.

“Well, good to know I won’t need to ask Naomi for fashion advise anymore, all she does is yell at me” Keigo said nonchalantly.

“And I know that if you are not buying that, Ren, I am. It will be a gift” Naomi said, coming out of her trance.

“O-oh, thanks Naomi-chan, but you don’t need to buy me a gift” shy Ren is back.

“Oh, love, seeing you in that outfit is a gift for me” Naomi winked at him, her Cheshire smile at full force, and the effects were immediate as Ren turned a deep red.

When you got out of that store, two hours had gone by and you still had so much ground to cover. So you and Keigo made a deal: if your group was to enter another clothing store, you two were going to leave Naomi and Ren there and go somewhere else.

You left them behind three times and, on those three times, both teens went out of the stores in a hurry, yelling when they wouldn’t find you, about 30 minutes after you left them.

During those escapades, you and your blonde friend went to a videogame store, talked about videogames you knew and liked and heard Keigo talk enthusiastically about his favorite ones. You also went to a library, discussing book plots, characters and authors. And finally to a restaurant, as the sun was going down and your hunger grew. Your last destination pleased Naomi because ‘spending money leaves an empty space on your wallet and stomach’.

The place was little and full, the air filled with a characteristic smell of fryed food and chatter. The table you were sitting at was square and grey, with a flower vase filled with lavenders and some napkins.

As usual, you talked about school, training and rising superheroes, but also about tv series, comic books and gossips.

“And how about that mysterious friend of yours, (y/n)-chan? How is he and when are we meeting?” Naomi chirped. Keigo turned serious at the mention of Touya.

“Ah… that is… a childhood friend, we talked about how he had been doing in those years we’ve been apart and… well he is a little… shy. I don’t think he’d like to meet you guys right away” you answered.

“I’m shy and I was forced to meet you all right away” Ren murmured

“That’s because you are a cutie” Naomi send a wink his way for the second time that day. “This ‘childhood friend’ is more like ‘(y/n) personal secret’, we won’t learn anything unless we force her to speak or follow them around and discovered something dark” she wiggled her fingers like some people do when telling a horror story.

“I think he is suspicious (Naomi: “Ohhhh is a he then? Is he single? I mean, do he likes girls and is single?”/ you: “I… don’t know, I’ll ask him another time”) aham excuse me, I am talking. Like I said, he is kinda suspicious, because, I mean, he appeared out of nowhere and was standing there in front of our school like a creep. People change along the years, maybe you shouldn’t be alone with him or trust him right away” The blond huffed as he crossed his arms and slacked his posture, pouting like a baby whose favorite candy was denied.

You sighed.

“I can’t deny he is a completely different person now… but he is also my first friend. Somewhere, in his heart, he still has some of the qualities engraved on my memories, I know that” you answered, more to yourself than to your friends, hoping your words were true.

When you returned home, it was already night.

As you lied down to sleep, you looked outside your window, hoping the stars could answer your prayers, that they could confirm that your future would be good.

Taglist:

@aly-insanity​

@a-typical-antisocial-fangirl​

@memekingofwwiii​

@axerrri​

@elizabeththe3third​

@angiepoggiart​ 

@kittyddandnyla​ 

@crystaldragon-69​ 

[snow-pitch-grimm]

A Perfect Match

Summary: In a world where those with magic are matched by fate, Baz and Simon are two idiots that can't see what's right in front of them.

Oh, and there's a group of mages that's not too happy about Natasha Pitch's new leniency toward magical 'infected' creatures. 

Creatures like Baz and Simon. (Someone help these poor boys)

Chapter 1: A Bright Light

BAZ

There was a knock on the door, and my father pocked his head inside.

"It's almost time, Baz. Your mothers are waiting for you as is everyone else,"

"Yes Father," I say

I take another look in the mirror. Black tux, purple shirt, shiny shoes and hair slicked back. Perfect.

My father holds the door open for me as I step outside. As we walk side by side, he pulls out a package and hands it to me.

"Happy Birthday, Basilton," he says as I take the package and gives me a gentle hug.

I smile, "Thank you father,"

He gives me a soft smile, and I expect him to start walking. Instead, he pulls me close again, and this time, the hug in much tighter.

"I know I don't say it a lot, but I'm proud of you, you know,"

A lump forms in my throat and I bury my face in his shoulder. Neither my father nor am I prone to emotional moments, but the occasional softness on special days is very nice.

And today is a very special day indeed.

It's my twenty-first birthday, which means, starting today, I can finally begin to find my perfect match, just like every other Mage and magical creature in England. There would have been a time where being a vampire would have barred me from being a part of the matching. However, when my mother had realized what I had become, she had fought hard to change the rules.

At first, I had believed it was only because I was her son. Daphne had shut that thought down fast. She is good at that. The whole comforting thing

"Oh, Baz, no. She is doing this because you are her son, but that is not the only reason. You made her realize that mages turned magical creatures are no different from the rest of us. They do not suddenly change after being infected, well they change but not at the core. You were Tyrannus Basilton before turning, and you are still our Tyrannus Basilton. So yes, you were the catalyst that made your mother realize that things needed to change, but never believe that we love you despite your vampirism. We love all of you, including your vampirism,"

"Why don't you open the present, son?"

I shake myself out of my thoughts and smile at my father again. I open the package to reveal an old wooden carved box. Inside there is an old leather cuff with the Grimm crest on it.

"I know you are planning to give your grandfather Pitch's ring to your match. Understandable since you are your mother's heir. However, I thought maybe you could give this too. You are part Grimm too after all,"

His eyes are alight with hope and I find myself vigorously nodding, "I would love to father,"

My father smiles and claps a hand on my back, "Good man. And don't worry. You will get a proper birthday present later,"

"Oh, no," I say, "You didn't have to-"

"None sense, Basilton," says Father, "Just because you're a proper adult now doesn't mean we can't buy you birthday presents. Come along now. We should get to the ballroom before Natasha sends a search party,"

Slipping the cuff on my right wrist, I leave the box with one of the brownies of the house who eagerly takes it titters off.

The ballroom is full of music and laughter. My mother is the first to spot me. She comes over and gives me a huge hug, Daphne right behind her.

"You finally made it, Tyrannus. Happy birthday!" she gushes, pulling me into a hug. She and my father have always called me by their favourite name for me. Well, mum calls me by her favourite name. Father just hates Tyrannus. They pull out the Tyrannus Basilton when they're mad at me.

Daphne always just calls me Baz. I like that one the best.

She pulls me into a hug once my mum lets go.

"Happy Birthday, Baz," she whispers against my ear, "You look very lovely,"

"Thank you, Mother," I say, making her beam at me.

I call Daphne Mother instead of Mum. I used to wonder if that hurt her but now I can tell that she's pleased I consider her a parent too.

"Everyone, your attention please!" my mum calls out, clinking a glass with her spoon, "There are waiters coming around with glasses of champagne and temperance drinks. Please join us in toasting my son,"

I blush as all eyes turn toward me and my father discreetly hands me a champagne glass.

"I'll keep this short," said my mother, "Twenty-One years ago I brought my son into the world. Like any parent, I had expectations and goals and dreams for him. I am so proud to say that he had has exceeded any and all expectations we had for him. My son has been the greatest joy of my life and after today I hope he will take his first step toward finding his own eternal happiness,"

There are murmurs of agreement and wishes of luck from around the room.

"To Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,"

The guests echo the toast and a few minutes later I'm being pulled around by relatives and friends, being congratulated and wished more luck. My aunt Fiona gets her hands on me at one point and I'm pulled into a long-winded dance that leaves me laughing and breathless.

I also make sure to say Hello to my younger sister who is running around with the other children, causing a ruckus for her sitters. The younger three have already been put to bed.

Eventually, I end up standing with my friends in a corner and laughing about our childhood exploits.

"Oh and remember when you accidentally set the curtains on fire," said Dec, laughing, "Aunt Natasha was so mad,"

Niall also joins him in his laughter and I roll my eyes at them.

"Haha funny,"

"Seriously though, how are you feeling about tonight. Ready to start looking for your perfect match?" asked Niall, "I for one can't wait for my birthday,"

Niall was a few months younger and wouldn't be getting his orb until his birthday. The orb was basically a small ball that gave you clues as to where your soulmate was, depending on how much you asked and how much you could take.

Dev had gotten his two months ago and it had glowed blue instead of white, indicating that his perfect match had also had their twenty-first birthday already. Since then he had been having dreams and visions of classrooms and exam papers. That, with a few other clues he hadn't told us about, it had become obvious that his soulmate was also a young uni student. However, neither of them was ready to meet the other yet so, for now, all he got was small glimpses of their everyday life.

"I'm feeling pretty excited," I said, answering Niall's question " If my orb has a coloured glow, I think I'd like to find them as soon as I can. Granted they're on the same page,"

My friends nod and Dev raises his glass again, "Well cheers to that. Here's to you finding your perfect match,"

"Hear. Hear."

XXX

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch," Calls out my great-great-aunt Viola, an old wrinkled lady with a hunched back but eyes still filled with life.

A Pitch through and through. The oldest Pitch to be exact.

I make my way up and spot my parents, all three of them, smiling at me proudly. Standing together now I can see that their clothes are complementing each other. My mother is wearing a deep forest green strapless dress with a slit on the right. Her accessories are a glittering black colour. My father is wearing a black tux with a deep green shirt. Daphne is wearing a back dress with a green flowery pattern.

My mother blows me a kiss with her left hand as I take the mini-stage at the front of the ballroom. Her right arm is linked with my father's left from where he's angled a step behind her. His right arm is wound tightly around Daphne's waist and she's also giving me a thumbs up with both hands.

I can't remember a time when they weren't like that. Happy, Solid, and together.

As a lovesick teenager, I had daydreamed of having that with- No no thinking of him tonight. I’m twenty-one now, it’s time to start looking for my perfect match.

Viola smiles (the Pitch version) at me and hands me an orb. It's a heavy and solid weight in my hands.

Next, she takes out her wand and casts the spell.

"The Red String of Fate,"

A soft golden light, like the morning sun, emits from the orb, nearly blinding in its glory. As the people in the room ooh and aah I am reminded of bright blue eyes shadowed by bronze curls and smile that could-

No! Not thinking about that.

As soon as the light fades, I'm being swarmed. First by my parents and then everybody else in the room. There are congratulation and hugs and kisses. By the time I make it to my room, I'm ready to go to sleep despite the excitement making my stomach churn.

After changing and washing up, I put the orb on my nightstand and try to decide on the wish.

Should I start with something simple? Or just dive right in? Would that be a little too invasive of my soulmate for the first time? But then again, the orb won't show me anything they haven't agreed to already since they obviously got their orb before me.

Making up my mind, I lean forward and whisper, "Show me where I'm meant to be,"

xxx

In another room, in another bed, laid another young man.

Unbeknown to the sleeping figure, the white orb on his nightstand lit up a bright yellow, almost like the sun.

[everythingkpop2x]

can i request stray kids stealing their (large) partner’s clothes~? 💕please and thank you~ uvu

` CHAN ´

 - he loved wearing your cloths when you were far away

- or just when he hasn't seen you in awhile

- he mainly wore the grey hoodie that he stole from you

- whenever he would stay late in the studio since it could be really cold

- it always made him warm and remind him of home when he was working late

` WOOJIN ´

- You guys had gotten stuck in the rain

- You guys were soaking wet by the time y'all reached your house

- Not wanting to get sick, you quickly changed into some draw clothes

- You gave Woojin a shirt and some gym shorts

- He was a little hesitate at first since he didn't think they would fit

- But surprisingly they did, even if the shorts were a little tight

- He'd often just wear your clothes when you guys have unplanned sleepovers

` MINHO ´

- You guys had just been playing around

- When Minho randomly suggest that he should wear ypur hoodie

- You raised an eyebrow by the very sudden suggestion

- "why?"

- "Come on, you're telling me you never about if i fit your clothes or how cute i would look in them?"

- How could you say no to that cute smile?

- You endes up giving him.a black t-shirt

- It surprisingly fit him really well

- " Told you, i'd look good in your clothes "

` CHANGBIN ´

- It was no secret that you were larger \ taller than him

- so it wasn't all that much of a surprise that he was able to hit your clothes

- the first he wore soemthing was he accidentally spilled juice on his white shirt

- he'd wear your clothes in occasion but i don't see him really making a big or any deal out of it

` HYUNJIN ´

- He would love that he could fit your clothes

- Sometimes he'd wear your clothes while you wore his (although some of his clothes could be a little tight)

- He found it really cute that you could wear each other clothes

- Plus it gave him more options of clothes and style

` JISUNG ´

- He had messing around in your closest for some odd reason

- He was bored and you were taking too long

- So he decided to entertain himself

- He'd ended up find these really pink flowery shirt which gave him a funny idea

- When you entered the room, you weren't expecting to see your boyfriend in such a girly shirt

- "Oh hello ! I'm y\n ~ " he'd said in a fake high voice

- " I don't even sound like that ! "

- But this didn't stop him from mimicking you

- It ended up with you guys in a fit of laughter

` FELIX ´

- A lot like Hyunjin

- Would share clothes all the time

- He loved wearingnl your clothes 

- But he also loved bragging about it, especially to the members

- " I'm wearing y\n's hoodie... I bet none of you could wear your significant other ."

- He especially loves wearing something you had been wearing minutes before since it smells like you 

` SEUNGMIN´

- I don't see him making a big deal out of it either since it was just clothes

- But i can see him regular wearing ypur clothes

- Especially when he's on touring and missing you

- His members might tease him about it 

- But he didn't care

- And although you technically weren't there, it did help missing you just a tad less

` JEONGIN ´

- It was a late Friday night 

- You and Jeongin had been walking back to his dorm

- You had went on a little date to the movies and some mcdonalds afterwards

- As you were walking, you could see that Jeongin was shivering slightly

- " Here " you said before taking your hoodie off and handed it to him

- of course he wpuld refuse at first since he didn't want you to be cold either

- You just told him that you don't really get cold all that easy

- He'd end up taking it

- " Ah it's really cozy. I might have to start stealing your clothes more often. "

[warmbeebosoftbeebo]

Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably

much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology

tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]

----

You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.

You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...

You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.

“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.

“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”

“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”

He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”

“What'd you dress up as?”

“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...

“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”

They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.

“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”

The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.

“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”

He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”

You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”

“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.

“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.

“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”

Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”

He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”

“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”

“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”

You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.

He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."

You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.

"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.

"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.

"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"

"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."

"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.

[spideymjlove]

Trip to the Mall - FULL

Michelle tapped her foot on the tiled floor, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing around the large mall for what felt like the hundredth time within the twenty minutes she had been waiting for her boyfriend to arrive. They had agreed to meet by the food court last night during one of their many texting frenzies, and Michelle had planned on buying food for her and Peter once they had met up--but dropped the idea as soon as she saw the lunch crowds already in large lines. 

Looking down at her phone, Michelle sighed when she still saw no text notification from Peter, only one from Ned, who had sent her a video of puppies taking a bath. “Dork.” She muttered fondly, shaking her head and slipping her device back in her jean pocket. “Where are you, Parker?” She asked aloud in a whisper, a smile forming on her face when she spotted Peter jogging towards her from the other end of the mall. 

“Hey! Sorry, I was on my patrol, and I lost track of time.” Peter apologized quickly as he wrapped his arms around Michelle and enveloped her in a gentle and brief hug. “How are you? You look really nice today by the way, new dress?” He asked, scanning his girlfriend up and down and grinning when he saw the necklace he had gotten her from Europe around her neck--broken, just like she preferred. 

“No, I just never really wear it,” Michelle shrugged with a soft smile, accepting Peter’s hand and walking beside him towards the main shops, merging in with the other crowds of couples and families in the building. “But thanks, means a lot you think I look decent.” 

“Decent?! You look amazing! Always!” Peter assured sincerely, beaming at Michelle when she giggled from his unexpected outburst. He looked around for a few moments, pausing them when he saw the sign for a lotion and perfume store only a few feet away from where they were standing. “Um, you wanna start with looking at some perfumes? I mean, you smell super nice, I’m not saying that you don’t, at all, I just meant--”

“Relax Peter, I know what you mean,” Michelle cutoff with a smirk, pecking Peter on the cheek lightly, making his body warm and heart beat a little faster. “And I would love to look at that store. That’s where I get my lotions anyway, so...” She informed casually, tugging at his hand and leading him to their destination with a skip in her step. 

Once they entered the surprisingly large store, Peter found himself becoming slightly stunned at the strong aroma of a variety of scents--strong and weak. He had to blink a few times, feeling his eyes burn when a nearby customer sprayed a sample of perfume on herself, the flowery scent making him slightly gag. 

Michelle noticed Peter’s uncomfortable demeanor, putting down the bottle of lotion she had picked up back on one of the display tables before walking towards Peter, wearing a look of concern. “Hey, you good?” 

“Hm? Yeah, yeah, m’fine, just...just...ACHOO!” Peter sneezed loudly, covering it with his hand and blinking a few times in surprise, not expecting it any more than Michelle, whose eyes had widened in shock. “S-Sorry, there’s just a lot of smells--my senses have a hard time here I think…” He trailed off, looking down and shuffling on his feet shyly. 

“C’mon, let’s go to another shop,” Michelle smiled warmly, taking Peter’s hand and giggling when her boyfriend looked up at her in surprise. “I have tons of lotions at home, dork. I don’t need to be in here, especially if I can’t spend time with my boyfriend while I browse.” 

Peter’s mouth gaped open at Michelle’s words, still not quite used to the teen’s newly found softness underneath her sassy shell, though he found that he was able to bring out that version of Michelle the more they spent time together. “Wow, that, that means a lot, MJ. Thanks.” 

Michelle gave a casual shrug, though wore a smile on her face all the same. “Just stating the truth. Now let’s go get you some more science t-shirts.”

Peter’s heart warmed when Michelle kissed him lovingly on the cheek, the close proximity making his senses calm down significantly. The moment of bliss quickly ended, however, but was replaced with pure joy when he felt their hands intwine, fingers brushing each other’s knuckles softly as they walked together down the main hall of the shopping mall, Peter feeling as if it was only him and Michelle in the building, despite the surrounding people chatting away as they brushed past. 

It wasn’t long before he found himself walking through a large clothes shop of sorts, men’s clothing to the right of him, while the women’s clothing were on his right. Peter was confused at first, not wanting to be away from Michelle for so long since their sections were far apart from one another. His confusion dissipated, however, when Michelle tugged him towards the men’s graphic tees, his girlfriend flipping through the stacks of shirts as soon as they were at the display. “MJ, what are you--?”

“Boys always get the cool shirts, so I’m not gonna waste my time at the girl’s section unless I want a dress or something.” She shrugged, tugging out a shirt with a cartoon looking Spider-Man print, the hero swinging through New York City. “I found mine. It’s buy one get one free, so pick yours out, dork.”

“Oh, okay! I really like that one,” Peter blushed, cheeks feeling as if they were on fire when Michelle folded her Spider-Man shirt and held it against her chest--close to her heart. “I think I’ll get that one too actually.” He decided, grabbing the correct size and smiling softly up at Michelle, who giggled. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothin’, you’re just cute.” She answered matter of factly, turning around and leading Peter towards the checkout counter near the front of the store. She paused abruptly when she could no longer hear Peter’s footsteps behind her, spinning on her heels and raising a brow when she saw him a few feet away, staring ahead towards the women’s clothing area. “What do you see?” She asked curiously, matching the teen’s gaze and smiling adorably when she saw a mannequin wearing a sleeveless navy dress, cut so that the fabric ruffled and was longer in the back than the front, making the piece of clothing have a bit of flow to it. “Oh, I see.” 

“I uh, I don’t want to sound weird, at all--”

“I’ll try it on. But only if they have my size.” Was all Michelle said, before speed walking across the way to the displayed dress, looking behind it and happy to see a rack full of the product. Please have my size. She silently prayed, wanting to see Peter’s toothy grin he gave only when he was flustered and didn’t know what to do with himself. “Aha!” She cried in joy, pulling out the correct size dress and holding it by its plastic hanger. 

“Did you find one?” Peter asked in a low tone, as if afraid of people overhearing their conversation. 

“I did, so now you get to wait on the bench by the dressing room.” Michelle informed, kissing Peter on the lips and pulling back after a few seconds, giggling when Peter’s cheeks were dusted a light red afterwards. “You’re such a dork, and I love you for that.” 

“T-Thanks?” 

“You’re welcome. Now sit.” Michelle ordered, dragging Peter to the dressing rooms and pushing down on his shoulder, making the teen sit down on the large plush bench of sorts. “I’ll be back as soon as I get this on.” She added, before walking inside one of the dressing room and closing the curtain behind her. 

Peter bounced his leg up and down impatiently, playing with his hands and glancing about his surroundings, eyes focusing on a nearby shopper, who was looking through the Prom dresses with who he assumed was the woman’s teenage daughter. Using his super hearing, he listened in to their conversation curiously. 

“I like this one a lot, Mom. I need to impress Tim, remember?” The daughter said as she pulled out a large, billowy and sparkly dress from one of the racks. 

“Okay fine, how much sweetie?” The woman asked in defeat, much to Peter’s amusement. 

“One thousand two hundred.” 

Peter stopped listening, heart racing at the very idea of having that amount of money to spend on a Prom dress, or to have at any point in his lifetime. His head whipped back towards the dressing rooms at the sound of the curtain being drawn, lips parting into a wide grin as he watched Michelle step out barefoot, the navy dress complimenting her curves perfectly. “W-Wow...MJ….” 

“Like it?” 

“Do I like it? I LOVE IT!” Peter gushed, standing up on his feet and running to his girlfriend, whose eyes widened in pleasant surprise when he placed his hands on her hips and kissed her passionately on the lips over and over again. After a few moments, he pulled back for air, panting softly as he spoke. “I’m the luckiest guy on Earth, you know that?” 

“Wow, I guess I’m getting this dress then.” Michelle half joked, cupping Peter’s cheeks and kissing him one last time, before looking straight into his hazel eyes, which were slightly dilated from their loving moment. “And I hope you know that I’m the luckiest girl on Earth.” 

Peter chuckled giddily, before taking Michelle’s hand and kissing her knuckles, a goodbye before she walked back into the dressing room to change. “I’m the luckiest person on Earth….” 

[sunarocks]

Thirty Questions!

From http://otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/post/132479890037/otp-questions

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?

Lee. He took a serious amount of A-ranked missions and used almost all of his money to support Gaara's hobby in cultivating cacti. Gaara sure had money to spare but since he was a Kage, he was extremely careful to use them for his personal stuff. Also, Lee had no hobby- (jumping side to side is NOT a hobby, Lee.)

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Lee. Gaara once tried to sleep on Lee's lap but he found his tights are all MUSCLES, they hurt his neck and shoulder. Gaara would prefer Lee's torso, though. His chest, especially.

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? Lee would roam around the house with a towel or blanket and Gaara would slap the shit out of him using his sand fight me.

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Lee would tell Gaara to sleep right away but Gaara, being an ex-vessel of Shukaku, couldn't help his continuous insomnia. He might let Lee sleep first, he would read some books while Lee hugged his waist. (DOMESTIC FLUFF ALERT ME DEAD)

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? Gaara thought that baking had the same difficulties as gardening but he was wrong. Lee, had he lived alone for a long time, knew how to cook so he would be the one to offer some help. I could imagine he patted Gaara's head and the Kage was sulking lmao.

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Lee would yell with extreme enthusiasm and Gaara was being all dense. It was canon that Gaara was a DEADPAN when it came to romance. He didn't even notice Temari's relationship with Shikamaru, BUT KANKURO DID.

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Gaara. I assumed that Lee didn't wear his signature green spandex when he was at home. Maybe a pair of matching pajamas or a simple t-shirt, but Gaara would prefer wearing Lee's instead of his own. Especially when Lee was away on a mission because of yea right, Gaara, you didn't miss him. Also, we don't want to see Lee in the mesh clothing. It'd screw you.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Lee, OF COURSE. And Gaara being Gaara, he would tell Lee a countless time not to forget anything on his list. Lee could be dumb, sometimes, and Gaara wasn't famous for his patience.

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? OMG COLLEGE AU /no Lee would do the driving and Gaara would read the maps. Gaara didn't trust Lee for doing things required some brains. (sorry, Lee.) Also, it was in his blood for being sassy, bossy, and to order someone else around. Lee was happy with that, though.

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? None. (...) Both of them are not that artistic type. Maybe Sai would draw them together.

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? ISN'T IT OBVIOUS. Lee was the executor. He would do all the dirty jobs since he mastered hand-to-hand-combat and Gaara was waiting in the car, munching on cooked gizzard, as he was the mastermind behind the robbery. He has done enough.

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking. This is funny because Gaara dislikes alcohol and Lee couldn't stand it either. Even in a social gathering, Gaara preferred cold tea (this is canon from Gaara Hiden) and Lee, a single drop of alcohol would drive him insane. So, none. They both wouldn't touch the beverages in the first place.

13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts? Lee would. And it would be totally random. He would pick a heart-shaped stone in the middle of his way back from a mission as a souvenir because it reminded him of Gaara's scar on his forehead. THAT random.

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? None. In the world of Shinobi, the clan is as important as the way of the ninja. Not to mention that Gaara had an obligation to keep his name and clan and blood as an identity. Rock Lee was one of two last Lees in the world so they would keep it that way.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? THEY BOTH WOULD KILL THE SPIDER USING THEIR SUPERB JUTSU. Fouth gate and Sand Waterfall Imperial Funeral. Might end up destroying the apartment, too.

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? It was canon when Gaara said that even his sand couldn't counter extreme temperature drop in the middle of the desert. Lee would be the one to offer Gaara his jacket and jokingly said that he could open the First Gate to warm himself up. Gaara would smack his head for that. 17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? WE ALL KNOW WHERE IS THIS GOING LMAO. Temari would act like a bad cop, Kankuro as the good one. Kankuro and Lee got along well as we saw them in Shippuden #497 but I guess Temari, no matter how much she supported their relationship, would always remind Lee to take good care of her little brother. Oh yes, she spoiled him a LOT. 18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Lee was a sincere person. As their relationship went closer than just a friend, Lee would likely think that it was perfectly fine if Gaara didn't realize his feeling. He told himself to keep himself together while Gaara already realized it a long time ago but decided to deny it. When Gaara eventually accepted his special, romantic feeling toward Lee, he would ask Lee if Lee felt the same and Lee was like, "I HAVE LOVED YOU FOR A DECADE ALREADY BUT THANK YOU FOR NOTICING IT." 19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? DAMN GOOD. They were both single parents with a son who were raised well and somehow a complete blueprint of them in their younger age. They even didn't find a wife to do that and it left me speechless. Two gay dads are what we need in Boruto series, proof me wrong.

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Gaara, HE WAS A KAGE, he had to write everything in perfection as he dealt with official reports and he had to submit it to the Councils. But Rock Lee wasn't that corny either, he wrote in a decent way. Not a flowery one, but also he wouldn't use numbers as letters.

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? GAARA BULLIED LEE LMAO. No seriously Gaara did all the bullies and Lee is like, STOP IT, BABE, YOU COULD LITERALLY KILL THEM. He was almost killed once let's get real smh. 22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? This one is also obvious. Lee did the pun and Gaara would sigh a long long long breathe because Lee reminded him to his own brother. 23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? Lee would come home and see Gaara adopted A FREAKING CHILD. 24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Lee gave Gaara a piggyback because the Kage was clingy. 25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Lee loved to compete and roamed around randomly challenged people but Gaara wouldn't do the cheering so... But if Gaara was challenged by someone and he accepted it, Lee would undoubtedly express his enthusiasm.

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Lee and he would BRAG it on social media. 27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Well, we saw Gaara in various clothing and hairstyles, so I guess Gaara would give Lee some makeover. The first thing he would get rid of was the bowl-cut, let's bet. 28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Gaara. He once had Shukaku and everybody feared him for that /NOT IN THAT CONTEXT- But seriously, Gaara adopted an iron-sand user, so he most likely owned a dangerous/exotic pet and Lee had to push himself to feed them. 29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Lee. He knew that Gaara's sand would be weakened in contact with water. So he would keep his spouse safe by shielding him... using an umbrella. Sometimes you can't just rely on your 'absolute defense'. 30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? Both of them are practical type so laying on the bed all days was counted as a vacation. But since canonically Gaara considered Konoha as a 'paradise' due to its tropical climate and was blessed by rain, they would simply go to Konoha and enjoyed the... Forest. Lee would take a lot of pictures of his husband it would cringe everyone who saw the result.

[rm-dimplemaster-blog]

don’t deserve your love (vhope)

(read more break included- press to read the whole fic :) )

for @ollania

The first time Hoseok hits Tae, it's by accident.

Middle of July. All seven of them are working on a complex dance in the practice room. AC is busted—it's literally in pieces hanging off the wall with all its green and yellow wires dangling like tangled-up cat whiskers. Tae is sweating off all his mascara. He put some fairyland purple on his left eye, disco animal black on his right (massive chunks of glitter that poke your eyeball everytime you blink included) earlier in the kitchen while he was catching a tan by the giant window all across his bare back and freckled shoulders. And now it's running down his cheeks, pooling in his cupid's bow, and it looks like he's been crying stardust tears.

The blow comes outta nowhere. An elbow straight to the chin. Knocks him down in a sec cause he wasn't prepared. He falls in a heap on the floor, red and purple striped shirt, dark damp hair and unlaced light-orange snickers.

Someone goes aigoo!

Jin goes waaaa and pushes the bangs out of his eyes using the hem of his tee.

Namjoon's deep voice from the left, to Hoseok you're like a typhoon. With two fingers he does a whirlwind motion accompanied by a whooshwhoosh!

A warm hand on Tae's left shoulder.

Hoseok's face above his: peach-colored lips from a creamy lip balm that makes his cupid's bow all shiny and well-contoured; lashes so fine it looks like they were drawn on with the lightest of mechanical pencils; a black string necklace around his neck with its dove pendant swinging all silver and weightless above Tae's face.

Bits of neon lights weave themselves into Hoseok's hair and beam on the smooth line of neck and shoulder. In the big mirrors: Yoongi scratching an itch on his right elbow, Jimin blowing into his loose tanktop cause midday summer heat, Jin making fun of Namjoon's dancing skills, Jungkook snacking with his nose all scrunched up.

The room smells like Yoongi's raspberry handcream, the detergent they all wash their clothes with, a faint trace of cigarette smoke from the all-black wearing dance instructors, and youth. From above him, Hoseok smells like fresh fabric and sun-kissed jeans and for the first time ever, looking into his eyes makes Tae's heart go a little faster, a little rougher.

Hoseok's soft bony fingers on Tae's face, checking for injuries. Hurts somewhere?

Yoongi you probably knocked some of his molars out.

Jimin ah you make it sound like he has like ninety nine of those.

Namjoon still alive there, Tae?

Jin no, he's freshly deceased.

Tae shakes his head at Hoseok, bangs flying all over the place.

Sorry Hoseok says all small and smiley, music makes my mind go poooof! I lose track of everything. My arms turn into windmills.

He tries grabbing Tae's hands but gets handfuls of red and purple striped sleeves instead. Tae huffs out a laugh through his nose and squeezes Hoseok's hands through the fabric. His jaw aches. So does the side of his face. But it doesn't matter, not now.

*

The second time it's part of a game.

It's past midnight and they're playing the 키스 또는 히트 game. You're supposed to spin a bottle aka truth or dare style: the cap points to you and you get to decide if you smack the receiving end across the wrist or give 'em a kiss. They didn't have a bottle and trying to spin Namjoon's yellow slipper was a fail so they went for Jungkook's pumpkin spooks special Halloween edition lip smacker instead.

They're sitting out in the hallway where all the lights are out for the night. They have Jin's scented candle crackling all soft on one of the mint green plastic waiting chairs

(jin, all eyes:

What if we set off the fire alarm

Yoongi what, with that candle. Ha. Goodluck with that. Weak flame. Plus this building's so old, half the shit here don't work.)

--and like four empty bags of banana chips just lying everywhere and their phone screens are sending fuzzy columns of light towards the low ceiling. The darkness has everyone all giddy and alert and shushing eachother cause they're laughing too hard.

So far it's been a whole lot of wrist smacking, but also a whole lot of kissing and Jungkook's lip balm doesn't only serve as the pointer in the game it's also being passed around for extra softness and sweetness and everyone's lips taste like pumpkin and spice.

Sitting in a circle with shadows under their eyes and flickering orange candle light fluttering in their irises, all seven of them play the night away.

Jimin smooched Namjoon. Slipped on a chips bag while crawling on all fours to get to Yoongi and rolled on the floor laughing for five minutes straight till he was clutching his belly and going all red in the face.

Jungkook smacked Jin's wrist so hard the slapping sound bounced off the walls like an outta control rubber ball

(Jin, gawking at literally everyone did you see what he just--

Jungkook smiled extra wide and his teeth shone almost translucent in the dark)

Yoongi gave an ok to kissing Hoseok but when it was time for him to actually do it he whined

Aish I'm so sleepy and hugged his backpack and put his chin on it and Hoseok wah how lazy can one be took the whole kissing thing on himself and planted a quick one on the left side of Yoongi's mouth to which Yoongi hasn't objected and which made the tips of his ears turn a little red.

When the lip smacker's end ends up pointing to him, Tae hugs his knees a little bit tighter and looks up from behind a curtain of freshly cut and dyed bangs. First time it points to him tonight. Moving his toes inside his red Doc Martens, he blinks around, the sudden silence all around him sticking to his lashes like glue. Six pairs of eyes stare at him in the dark. The hallway smells like pumpkin and grape gum, shampoo and warm skin and past midnight draft.

The cap of the lip smacker pointing to him, Hoseok looks at Tae with a twinkle in his eye, hugging one knee, colorful bead bracelet hanging off his right wrist.

Jin and Namjoon exchange insinuating glances.

Jungkook looks from Tae to Hoseok and back again with his mouth open, curious.

Yoongi says all deadpan kiss is bliss.

Jimin bites his knuckles on a smile.

The dark closes in on him and his heart beats all muffled under his baggy black shirt.

Hoseok looks at him all soft and insecure, pushing the blue and purple beads around, mustering the courage to crawl across the light-orange tiles and weave his fingers into Tae's hair and really gentle press his lips to his.

Tae swallows hard. Blinks down at the tiles without looking up again.

When Hoseok pushes his hair behind his ears and goes on his knees to head his way, Tae lifts up his sleeve and exposes his wrist.

Hoseok kinda freezes on the spot, smile faltering, fingers of one hand splayed out on the floor while those of the other running up and down his thigh, scratching lightly and crumpling the denim.

Whoa Jin says.

Nibbling on his bag's zipper, Yoongi goes hello there tough guy.

Jungkook scrunches his nose plot twist!

You sure? Hoseok asks, whisper the same tone as the smoke curling upwards from the candleflame's belly.

Tae sucks his lips in. Nods. Offers Hoseok his wrist, veins up, making a fist.

Hoseok doen't wanna do it but those are the rules. Setting himself on his knees infront of Tae, he helps him push the sleeve up higher, then grabs his wrist.

He hits with two fingers.

Jimin flinches for Tae when Tae doesn't even blink.  

*

Third time it's playful.

First time they kiss, it's in a street corner in Singapore.

They sky is bluish-grey and short sleeved dress shirts are flailing really faint on the clotheslines overhead. It's funny because with all that bright afternoon glow, the clothesline themselves seem to disappear and if you look up from the street below, all you can see is a mess of shirts and light jackets tossed everywhere amongst the puffy weightless clouds, a senseless scene from a futuristic painting.

The roads are packed with carts full of oranges and apples and chubby rough-skinned pears. Everywhere you look it's food booths with noodles and saucy meats and steamed rice that smells like the ocean and stings your tongue with delicious saltiness. It's flowery parasols that fly open like a flock of birds reaching for the sun; it's girls in dresses and women in sandals that let out a soft squishy sound when the heel leaves the ground. It's lanterns as big as pumpkins filled with light that birds flutter by with a song. It's shop signs with Chinese lettering that Hoseok, during their stroll earlier, used to point to and attempt to read

(what Hoseok said when he spotted Tae giving a little smile after he read aloud a bookshop name.

Tae gave a shy shrug just love the way you make the 'sh' sound when you speak Chinese. I love the way it sounds.)

It's turquoise-painted doors and wind chimes that ring out so delicate it tingles down your spine.

And it's Hoseok's soft hot mouth on his when the wind comes from the left knocking a few shutters closed and billows their shirts and sends their bangs flying into their eyes. Tae's holding a half empty pink glass bottle of fizzy sweet blueberry soda and the straw pushes between his ring and middle finger. His left hand, Hoseok holds between their bodies, almost hidden by the fabrics of their shirts.

It's summer and they're on their first Asia tour and the street smells like oranges and Hoseok presses his forehead against Tae's temple, lashes fanning across Tae's cheekbone.

I'm seeing stars Tae kinda whispers. He's not trying to be funny, it's actually what it feels like, but Hoseok laughs all bubbly and weightless.

He smacks Tae's shoulder, suddenly shy and self aware.

*

Fourth time, it's emotion.

Hoseok slaps Tae hard. The sound rings out across the empty stage like a clap of thunder.

They had just finished rehearsal and almost all the lights are out. Tiny grains of dust float in the air like fireflies. Behind Tae, a giant screen shows chunks of silver glitter falling and falling and falling, endlessly, the loop invisible.

Tae touches his ring finger to his lip. The corner of his mouth is bleeding.

Tae kissed another boy. He wanted to. The love Hoseok gives, he feels like he doesn't deserve. Never has. Never will.

He looks at the smear of blood on his finger. Winces with the stinging tear in his lip. 

This, he deserves.

[zlaelic]

You and Šime fooling around

This one is longer than I thought it would be 🙈 but here it goes, an imagine with Šime Vrsaljko:

- you're a big fan of his of course but somehow the first time you've met him it was sudden and all of you were drunk and he was presented to you like just one of the guys your friend spends time with

- "so yeah we were thinking of kind of getting together tonight and just drinking, me and my childhood buddies from Zadar, if you like you can come. They're all totally crazy, you would have a great time" your college/work friend said

- your totally male friend

- everyone just assumes the two of you are together

- so it all sums up with you being very casual and easy going with Šime even though you would be far from 'cool' with your favourite player in any other circumstances

- you drinking a lot before even coming to that apartment a being tipsy when meeting him

- him being wasted too

- it's not long before karaoke starts

- no one can decide which one of you two has worse voice but it doesn't stop you from screaming you lungs out to the trahiest Croatian songs Šime can find on YouTube

- like how did you even get here what are you doing it's all a blur but you wanted someone as energetic and fucking crazy as Šime in your life for a long time

- sitting around the table playing poker

- you have no idea how playing poker even goes but you get a feeling that Šime and two other guys don't understand it very well either and it's comfortable and fun just randomly throwing cards on the table and it's really more about the guys telling funny stories from their childhood than actually playing poker

- talking about first dates and kisses

- you got your silly stories to tell too, and they're all laughing their asses off cuz it's not everyday they meet someone with such little luck with love life

- Šime crying of laughter and playfully mocking you

- you're sitting next to each other at the table and when the rest of the guys start discussing some weird golf rules he asks you about your home town and family, and you find out a lot about his family too

- you guys are close and you realise he smells really really nice

- not that generic cologne that most men use but very fresh and flowery almost

- and it fits him somehow

- he zones out at one moment and you just know that he's thinking the most random thoughts, you think it's not only the alcohol he's all over the place always

- such a puppy, he's unstoppable in his enthusiasm

- "wanna play Nintendo Wii"

- of course you wanna, and for some reason you do it with sunglasses on because he says it's "harder and more fun" if you don't see where you're going

- later chilling on the couch with some fluffy animal toy and he puts his hand around you saying it's time for selfieesss

- you can't believe Šime Vrsaljko is basically hugging you and his cheek is touching your hair and you can see yourself blush on the screen of his phone

- "mmm you smell nice" he says killing you instantly

- he takes a few more sniffs of your hair

- " how bout a video" he asks and you absolutely don't want to end up on his story or anywhere public and you don't want to risk it so you say no even though you want a memory

- "next time maybe" he looks at you pouting adorably and then bumps your cheek with his hair

- someone says how it's getting late and how they should go, you're sad because it's probably the last time you two are going to be this comfortable

- I mean you might get invited to some games, because you obviously have a card up your sleeve, you know his childhood friend but it's hardly likely you're going to be his drinking buddy

- you ask for his autograph and he's joking how he should ask for yours instead (you did destroy him completely in Wii) and you meant for him to autograph a paper or something but he's written his name on your shirt before you even realise what's happening

- right there on your left boob of your favourite shirt in the most hideous handwriting it says Š I M E and what do you even say to that

- he hugs you goodbye and lifts you up a bit and his nose is burried in your neck and his hands hold you so tightly that you feel him everywhere

- it's been a few weeks and you still can't believe what has happened and when you see that he's playing a game that night you start watching

- he's doing amazing and you can't help yourself but congratulate him over texts

- you did not expect him to answer with a video call

- he's shirtless and full of adrenaline and he's asking when are the two of you gonna celebrate again

- you're completely out of your element and nervous and taken aback by his energetic act, and you just mumble something about being free whenever

- he says "I'm taking your word for it" with a huge smile and says he has to go

- you're kind of confused and he doesn't contact you for a week

- one day you're coming home and it's your friend and Šime there sitting at your table

- they're ready for zip lining

- the adrenaline is addicting and he's coming once a month to see you and do some new crazy shit together, soon you don't even mention the friend and he's not even pretending that he's not there just to spend time with you

- he flew you in to Madrid for your birthday and he takes you sightseeing

- he has to camouflage a bit since he is actually famous and goddammit if he has to wear a hat it's going to be the ugliest hat he can find and if he has to wear glasses it's gonna be the most hipster pair, you can't stop laughing every time you look at him and he loves it

- he books a room for you at the hotel and it almost feels like an affair but you two barely touched since that hug when you first met and he keeps calling you "his bestie" in the most white girl voice possible

- also you two talk about everything but he never mentions his wife, at this point you're afraid to ask

- he comes to you at 11 pm and he has weed cookies

- you're in a bit of a shock "can you really do this, as a professional footballer and all??"

- "it's only for special occasions" he says with a mischievous smirk looking down on you sitting on the bed

- he takes one in his hand and starts feeding you

- you look him in the eyes while taking a bite and for a moment you feel his fingers on your lips

- it tastes truly awful but he takes the rest of the cookie and puts it all in his mouth and you reach for anorher one from the box he carried it in

- you end up watching 'football funny moments' on YouTube and Šime is roasting everyone, but most of all Dejan, and he's doing it all with his 'live' voice

- everything he does you find hilarious

- you can't imagine a better night

- you're sitting on the floor next to each other with your backs to the bed

- you commenting which football player is the best looking and him getting salty

- "he has this manly aura around him, Šime. It's one of a kind"

- "I'm one of kind! Am I not manly? "

- things are still playful but his hand is suddenly on your thigh and he's rotating his back towards you

- "you're mustache is" but it's comes out as more of a compliment than a playful jab

- he's getting closer and even though he's usually the epitome of energetic and quick his lips are so gentle, and the kiss itself is slow

- the kiss is incredibly wet and with everyone else it might be called a sloppy one but he makes it work so well

- he's a thorough and patient kisser

- he's firm and knows where he's going so when you feel a hand moving from your thigh and gently nudging you to lie down you do it immediately

- it's heavenly feeling his body on yours even though the floor is uncomfortable

- you ask to move to the bed and you don't even stop to think how it might sound

- Šime's obviously content to just leave it on a make out session and you are too

- his hands wander, his leg is between yours and you tangle your hands in a mess that's his hair

- maybe he set himself some boundaries that he won't cross and eventhough after almost half an hour of wet sloppy passionate kisses you can feel his firmness, he's set on leaving all the clothes on, both yours and his

- when you get tired Šime rolls off, pulls you into a hug and plays with your hair

- I make mean hairdos, ask Vida

- he loves when I braid his hair

- and you can't tell if he's joking or not

- you think it will be wierd tomorrow but somehow if isn't

- friendly banter is there like nothing happened yesterday

- Šime's asking what you want to do

- maybe some football lessons?

- he's actually a good teacher but never fails to make fun of you

- "maybe you can try the goalkeeper position, eh? No elaborate footwork needed"

- he gives you a peck on the lips when getting you on an airplane home but other than that you don't talk about that night

- continuing to be bffffs who occasionally kiss when alone and wasted

- Šime making you live your best life and always being a phone call away

[britishchick09]

it happened one night livewatch

last week this movie was on tv and i watched some of it in between classes, but was over by the end of school :/

luckily the library exists and i was able to get it! so in honor of my first half day of the year, i’ll be watching this classic movie!

first of all the dvd is cute :)

the old columbia logo is so neat! and the music is great too

ooh it was a short story! coolio

clark gable’s in this *cue girl swoon*

captain: “huuuunger striking?” lol

yo this captain dude is MEAN

is this girl a hostage? wait did she say king? OVER 21 WHAT’S GOING ON

claudette girl: “i thought i told you not to bring any food in here!”* guy backs away* lol

WOAH DUDE DON’T CALL HER A STUBBORN IDIOT >:(

OMG THIS GIRL JUST FLIPPED A TABLE THE FRICK

YO SHE”S A SAVAGEEEEEEE SHE JUS JUMPED IN THE WATER LIKE BLIP

soldier: “she’s too smart for you!” dam right she is ;)

hey is that clark gable in the phone

wait is that a black guy who is that

news boss: “you wouldn’t know a newspaper if you kicked it in the pants” lol

oh it’s clark gable sounding cool kewl

yo prohibition’s over LET’S DRUNKENLY CHUG FLASKS OF WHISKY AT THE STATION WHY DON’T WE

where’s the girl she’s awesome and i miss her

just sit on the newspapers clark gable it would be neat :D

sock him sock him sock him SOCK HIM SOCK HIM SOCK HIM

“oh yeah????” JUS SOCK HIM PLZ

...oh no sock :/

OP DERE HE IS! ...or dere she is ;)

claudette girl and clark gable are sort of like anna and kristoff when they first met! :D

cool train it has a lotta license plates :D

fun fact: if you took a drink every time someone in this movie smokes you’d probably die

*screen fades* commercial break!

yo claudette’s smoking it must be cool don’t smoke kids :D

she just threw her cig LITTERBUG

she didn’t notice that it was gone SEE CIGS ARE BAD

4 dollars is like 100 bucks today cool :D (jk it’s 77)

woah that horn sounds like an electric guitar ROCK ON????

why must old men snore :(

just chuck him across the room claudette it’s cool

sit on clark’s hand it’s cool

*claudette and clark stare at each other* awk-ward!

awwww she’s hugging his arm! ♥

she’s gonna be like OH CRAP when she awakes huh (she did but not much)

they cute together ♥

clark: “you look kind of pretty asleep” awwww

claudette: “i’ll be a few minutes late please wait for me.” conductor: “oh yeah????????”

ooh the night bus cool :D

guy: “the bus is gone.” oH yEaH??????

claudette: “that’s 12 hours from now!” so it’s 8 am now kewl

she calls him young man although he’s older than him lol

her last name is andews so is her first name julie....?

awww it’s ellen :/ still cool tho

she pawned her watch for clothes sorta like how anna bought her travel clothes with her coronation dress neat-o (frozen ihon au?)

ooh telegrams asoue reference

lol the telegram lady can’t read his words lol

2.60 is probably 50 bucks wowza (i was right it’s 50.62!)

the train announcer sounds done with his life poor guy :/

shapely: “you have class with a capital k” ...lol

shut up shapely plz

shapely: “shut up my big nasty mouth!” YES PLZ SHUT UP

shapely: “i could go on you in a big way.” ...oh no

awww clark just called claudette ellen his wife awwwwwwwww ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

shapely: “no offense doc!” bugs bunny who

clark: “you’re as help

buying cigars and cigs on a train what a time

the chocolates are 1.67 that’s like 30 (it’s 32! i’m good at this inflation stuff)

yo it be pouring where’s morton salt girl when you need her

omg this is the part i saw last time i think!

claudette: “your ego is absolutely colossal” tell that to captain man lol

claudette: “there’s a brain behind that face isn’t there?” lol

the hotel is 2 bucks a night which is about 50 huh not bad! :D

awww that’s cute a little privacy screen :)

awwwwwww she gonna wear his pjs!

omg he’s undressing in front of her i thought he liked privacy

this is just for the clark fangirls isn’t it

OMG HE DOES SHOES BEFORE PANTS THE FRICK

clark’s singing the big bad wolf song nice timely reference bro :D

omg we’re FINALLY FINDING OUT CLARK’S NAME HOW DID IT TAKE 30 MINUTES

peter warn nice name :D

claudette: “i don’t like it.” ...oh :/

omg airplane cool :D

wow they have a plane table cool :D

the plane flying overhead reminds me of the planes that fly past here sometimes it’s neat

awww he bought a toothbrush and pressed her clothes so sweet!

clark: “all the best houses have showers outside!” huh idk bout that...

wow this is so domestic

he said her hair was cute awwww!

lol they saw her xd xd xd xd lol

DID THAT LADY JUST STICK HER TONGUE OUT WOOWWWWWWW

wowza you really miss a lot in between classes huh next thing i remember they were stealing a car

clark: “that’s your ration for lunch” world war who

kewl they have a donut

claudette’s kinda cute when she smiles :)

oh no the guys are there!!!!!!!!!!

plz don’t recognize her

clark: ‘dOn’T lOsE yOuR tEmPer!!!” woah mocking spongebob who

lol dat was funny good trolling :D

it’s at 42 minutes HOW IS IT NOT HALFWAY DONE

omg wait i think this is the next part i saw

awww there’s a pic of her on the dad’s desk ♥

cool radio broadcast and newspapers AND WIRE PICS IT’S THE FUTURE MAN

is there a radio on the bus cool

oh it’s just real guys ok cool

ok wow everyone knows the flying trapeze song is this a musical now

wowza this song is from 1867 coolio! :D

are they singing the whole flipping song get on with the story plz

ok wow that guy just DROVE RIGHT INTO A LAKE

OMG SOME KID’S MOM DIED :(

awwww clark’s comforting her bless ♥

the guy said ‘behind the 8 ball’ last decade slang reference :D

WAIT WHY DOES CLARK HAVE FLIPPING MACHINE GUNS??????

10 thousand bucks is like a million billion (it’s 193 million i was close)

WOAH THAT WAS SHAPELY HE HAS KIDS WOWZA!

bugs dooley more like bunny :D

they left the bus so this when they steal the car????

10 spot is like 193 wowza

awww they be going piggyback

abe lincoln is a ‘natural born piggybacker’ confirmed

THE FRICK DID CLARK JUS SLAP HER WHY

oh wow they’re sleeping in hay kewl

clark: “you can’t be hungry and scared at the same time!” hmmmm.......

oh no what happened to peter :(

awww he brought food but she’s scared and not hungry huh i guess he was right!

awwww his coat’s blaket!

OMG KISS KISS KISS KIS

awww no kiss :/

hey it’s like modern times when they walk away from the camera :D

this is the other part i saw the car stealing’s coming up! :D

he’s picking hay out of her teeth how domestically romantic ♥

YO RAW CARROTS THE FRICK IS WRONG WITH YOU BOI

oh wow clark has a lotta hitchhiking moves

claudette: “o that’s amazing.”

you thumbed too late clark you thumbed too late

claudette: *raises her skirt to above her knee* oh dang victorian swoon

OH DANG THAT DRIVER STOPPED!

the driver’s probably thinking of the will smith meme now (DAS HOT! DAS HOT!)

claudette: “the limb is mightier than the sword.”

i remember the driver guy he’s funny :D

he’s just singing and clark’s like ‘oh god please for the love of god and holy stop’

the driver’s so happy i love him :D

his face after clark shuts him up is like ‘hmm’

now i understand claudette’s face when clark suggests a carrot lol :D

clark be like HOP outta that car!

DANG clark beat the driver MAN THAT’S ROUGH!

awww claudette’s wiping clark’s brow what a mom

how much is 10 gallons of gas like 40 bucks or something (it’s 19 cents each which is about 18.34 huh!)

the car’s oinking a bit like the car in the 11 year old senpai newsreel!

now they’re at the hotel place and i guess the owner’s living with his mom???

clark saying claudette will be in her husband’s arms and her pausing is sort of like kristoff saying anna will be safe with her true love bish hans :)

ooh nice rug cover :D

clark’s not that hot shirtness sorry fangirls :/

omg claudette bra wow :o (it’s sorta cute tbh)

oh wow they got in their pjs fast

clark: “i want someone more real, more alive!” claudette’s right there bro

clark: “the stars are so close you feel like you could reach up and stir them around” awww ♥

oh no he doesn’t love him but she truly loves him :(

heartbroken claudette ellen isn’t cool :(

wait was the claudette bra actually a slip or something why is that a wonder?

awww clark’s wondering if she’d really go but she’s asleep

25 bucks is about 300 bucks (it’s 476 kewl)

aww the guy has a hat :D

typewriter!!!!!!!!!!!

AWWW CLARK WANTS TO MARRY HERRRRRRRRR

THEY’RE IN LOOOVVVVEEEEE!!!!!!!! ♥

who’s zeke is this a bob’s burgers crossover

oh the hotel guy huh!

they found claudette in the bed it’s like snow white :D

mom: “i run a respectable business!” too bad you’re not your business OHHHHH

oh hey clark kissed the office gal :D

wowza the paper guy has a lotta phones huh

and a candle stick with a dial phone? wowza!

this place is busy huh

kit was right that typewriter sound is the best :D

oh no clark’s not gonna see her there :/

THOSE POLICE CARS SOUND LIKE SCREAMING KIDS WHY

he’s calling the car ‘baby’ how about the lindberg baby CUZ YOU STOLE IT!!!!

omg hoboes on the train it’s not just a kit thing!

CLAUDETTE’S WITH HER DAD GO TO THE RESCUE CLARK!!!!

the car horn be going ‘de de de de de!”

oh no car gone

wowza that’s a lotta papers!

she’s home but what about her true love?

also are movie newspapers actually created on newspaper i’ve always wondered that

oh no claudette’s marrying insert sad clark here :(

what a pretty gown! very shiny and flowery ♥

awww claudette ellen and her dad are so sweet together!

she wants clark pete doesn’t she

claudette ellen hasn’t cried since she was a baby huh

dad: “tell me you haven’t fallen in love with the bus driver!” it’s worse... THE MILKMAN!!!!! :o

claudette: “i practically threw myself at him!” yeah you kind of did back there....

omg her dad knows peter awesome!

cool a typewriter letter :D

OMG IT BE CLARK PETE!!!!!!!

oh wow he just ran in there and it was awkward with the pappa

HE CALLED HER DARLING!

AND THEY KISSEDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ♥

there’s 10 more minutes it’s getting JUICY

8.60 is probably 70 (it’s 170!)

a buggy ride wowza that’s old fashioned right there

awww clark doesn’t want to admit that he loves claudette but he does

wait is she already married

ooh claudette’s dress train is nice :D

OOH HELICOPTER i thought that was a ‘39 thing!

it’s an airplane with copter blades wow extra much king wesley

ooh the peanuts kids are the chorus people nice :D

the movie camera is a crank cool!

wow dad don’t call your daughter a sucker WOW

39.60 is like 700 bucks probably (765!)

i hope claudette says ‘i DON’T’

dad speak up plz SPEAK UP SPEAK UP

king said ‘i will’ why IT’S ‘I DO’

ooh claudette’s hesitant SHOOT SHE RAN AWAY

the cameras be crankin’

she just drove away like that wowza what a gal

omg the dad’s drunk af what a sad boi

100 thousand is probably a billion AND HE SAYS DIRT CHEAP

awww did claudette and clark go to jerico?

awwww they married!!!!!!!!!!! :D

so that was the movie! it had a lot of funny and memorable parts, but some parts were a little long so i’ll give it a 8/10

what a great movie!

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse part 11

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

A/N: Finally, the long-awaited (by me) wedding chapter. If you don’t like my OCs, skip the first half. Then Maven appears, what rare occasion ;-) Fashion pics are at the end.

Cassandra POV

The crown weighs heavy on my head although it’s made only of sakura twigs and blossoms, the pale pink petals matching the light shade of my silk dress.

All guests of my brother Hagen Eagrie’s wedding with Larissa Welle wear flower crowns today. The bride’s grown and shaped them herself, and put them on every brow, having chosen them carefully to match the guests’ clothing and preferences. More flowers wind along the walls and corners of the Eagries’ large mansion in Archeon, other bouquets are carefully arranged in numerous vases placed on pillars.

The smell should be overwhelming but it isn’t. Lari’s too great a mistress of her greenwarden ability, so I suppose she created the flowers especially not to have a strong odour. Yet their perfume is ever-present – and pleasant, at least to me. The smell changes slightly the closer I move to the garden, probably intentionally as well. Maybe a metaphor for the seasons; I haven’t asked Lari yet. It’s another artwork among the many she designed for her wedding to be impressive and unique. As the flowers’ smell is contributed to her groom: Since Hagen is unable to see the decorations, Lari made it possible to sense them in other ways.

Just makes me wonder what the food will be like.

I gather my skirt in my hand as I descend the stairs to the reception hall. The dress is unusual to me, hence I’m most likely lifting it too high. The gown widens along my thighs but it’s tight otherwise, urging me to ponder how to fight in it. I chide myself for the thought but it’s less for paranoia than for the wish to protect this dress from damage that I make such considerations. It becomes me marvellously. Short, frilly sleeves, a low cleavage, the tightness accentuating both my curves and my muscles while enabling me to dance. The seams have a more intense colour, a vibrant fuchsia; it’s the same shade I chose for my lipstick and eyeliner. Sakura are embroidered on the skirt, following the colour pattern of pale pink, fuchsia, and every shade in between as the yarns fade from intense into pastel.

All in all, it’s simple but the most beautiful gown I’ve ever worn.

I catch a glimpse of someone standing at the foot the stairs and I almost stumble when I notice it’s Sorata. He smirks at my efforts to remain ladylike. He’s as much a gentleman in his swallow-tailed coat, despite being a Red. What the right clothing can do for you – how many “noble” guests will be confused by his presence, and rightly so. He’s better than them and deserves to be my partner at the wedding party. And more. He’s dressed to match my outfit. Where I carry a crown of pink cherry blossoms, he wears white ones while his cravat and pocket square show pink embroidery. It’s obvious for anyone looking close enough that we are … together.

He bows and kisses my hand, slightly more serious. I curtsey in response and fail, my knees pointing in the wrong directions. He laughs until he coughs. “Unused to formalities, Cassie?”

“Tsk.” But I giggle as well. “I’ll have to train before the queen arrives.”

“I suppose she values your other skills more,” he says. “But I am content as long as I receive your first dance.”

“I promise.” He pulls me close for a faint kiss, then guides me down the corridor to the garden where the ceremony will take place. There’s no one else, so I’m wondering if we’re late and the guests have already arrived, with only the bride and groom to show up.

“Are you ready for a grand entrance?” I ask.

He sighs. “Whenever else will we have the chance – “ he trails off and stops walking, turning us sideways to another pillar in an oriel.

It displays a wreath for a guest, braided from poppies and cornflowers. Simple plants, but their orange and blue colours are as brilliant as fire.

“That’s hers,” I breathe. “Firebird’s. Lacey’s.”

He nods. We stare at the crown dedicated to my absent cousin, either a hostage or a collaborator of the Scarlet Guard, depending on the perspective. Sorata leans against me, his hand skimming my neck as he whispers in my ear. “You’ve heard from her?”

“Only that she’s alive. And occupied, whatever that means.”

He inclines his head and kisses my cheek. “They trust me more,” he says quietly. “The king is rumoured to return here soon, and Archeon might become a target again.”

He draws away, smiling like he didn’t talk treason a second ago. “Excited for the ceremony, madam?”

“Of course I am, Mr. Ives.” And I mean it. At least Lari and Hagen will have this before all hell will break loose.

Indeed, the garden is already filled with guests seated on filigree chairs. Ribbons fixed on poles create the illusion of a room and a roof on the meadow-like green although breezes and sunbeams filter through. We have a magnificent weather for September and the approaching autumn is only announced by the golden and reddening foliage on the trees farther off. My family stands at the front and we part to join them, each of us going along one outer side of the congregation; the middle aisle is reserved for the bridal couple.

I hug my oldest brother Roman with a grin before I take my position. I haven’t seen him for a month. Now he and I stand on the left side while Mother’s on the right, with Sorata behind her. Her assigned companion has still to arrive. She doesn’t wear a suit or other casual clothes today, it’s like she wants to dress as rich and festive as the other nobles for once: She’s swathed in black tulle as voluminous as a black cloud. I’ve helped her to pin up her yellow hair in an elaborate fashion but our efforts are barely visible beneath her wreath of white lilies with small black markings.

Roman wears white asters and I notice that every small movement of his is as graceful as ever, a generous inheritance from his Iral grandmother. But even formally dressed in a suit with a necktie, he manages to look like a punk, a rocker with electrum jewellery gleaming on his ears, hands and chest, and the tattoos engraved on the brown skin of his neck and left hand. His black hair stands up in every direction like he just walked through a storm and his white shirt hangs over his slacks.

But that’s exactly his charm. Despite his height, he resembles his long-dead father a lot. He and Hagen share his colouring with brown skin and black hair but Roman has Mother’s dark eyes and inherited his father’s handsome, hawkish features as well. And his ability of course, the Eagrie foresight.

Yet all three of us siblings are Mother’s children and that shows. She’s a person who always gets what she wants and we adapted the confidence from her. Roman with his seer ability never makes a wrong move; be it in battle, life or art. I always fight for the win, dismissing the chance of losing to begin with. While Mother has never wanted Hagen to doubt himself for his disability and made him believe in what he can do. Although wandering through people’s dreams in his sleep is generally considered as a freak ability, he’s come to live both in aethereal dreams and in the flesh to his capacity. All the more a reason for Mother to be happy and proud of him today.

When the queen arrives at last, the whole congregation rises and bows or curtseys and I manage to lift my skirt almost exactly to the right level. I raise my eyes just in time to catch Sorata winking at me. Queen Iris walks around the seats like we did, with her ambassador Isabella and the bodyguard Richard Rhambos behind her. Richard serves in my place yet as he’s related to Hagen as well, I wonder if he might’ve wished to attend too.

Iris takes the place next to Mother. She curtseys again, kisses the queen’s hand and reaches for the wreath Lari prepared for the queen – blue-violet iris flowers, an obvious choice for the queen’s name. Yet Iris smirks courtly upon receiving another crown while Mother says something in the Lakelands tongue, eager to show off her knowledge and skills. The queen’s smile widens a bit and I wander if Mother said something funny or if Iris’s just delighted to hear her mother tongue. Naturally, her gown stands out even among the nobility. Dark blue flowery lace is interwoven with silver threads and beads. It’s another dress with a long skirt on the backside but an open front, turned into a kind of catsuit as her legs are dressed in the same rich fabric ending over her sparkling pumps.

The congregation rises. Bride and groom enter together, arm in arm. They walk down the carefully prepared aisle of rich, dark soil. Lari’s gown has no train, nor does she wear a veil or a flower crown herself. Instead she displays fanciful, butterfly-like eye-makeup and flowers woven into her dark brown hair which falls down her back. Following an old tradition, her bridal gown is white, with embroideries in the green and gold of her house along with numerous blossoms placed on it in a detailed pattern. She’s barefoot and in place of a train, buds of daisies, poppies, asters, cornflowers, chamomiles, wild roses and many more arise as she goes down the aisle.

My brother looks dashing besides her - even though she grabs all attention. Larissa’s chosen him a laurel crown with an elaborate black coat, vest and white shirt as usual, velvet and frilly in the same style that his grandfather, Julius Eagrie, prefers. Instead of a big tie or a black cravat with lace in the Eagrie colours, Hagen’s necktie is violet, with an interwoven iridescent pattern in purple and fuchsia. “Hagen needs a more special colour,” Lari told me in the dressing room when my hand glided over the silk tie. “Like you do.” Then she winked at me, who’s not bound no a house colour for my lack of a high house.

With cheers, the guests take their places again as the ceremony begins and the queen herself gives her blessing to the union.

Larissa’s planned and arranged every little part of her wedding, and she’s made it to perfection; without ever losing her nerves or her smile. The glass-ceilinged hall the dinner and dances are to take place in is just another demonstration of rare and impressing botany combined for the utmost effect. Lari tries to personify life and beauty and lets everyone forget in what times we live in, as if not so many of us have lost someone. But still. She was never meant to be a warrior or a queen as that is her cousin Heron’s due, the house lord’s daughter. The girl is here as well and forcing a smile, maybe perturbed that two Silvers marry for love and not for prestige. Yet in ability, Larissa excels nonetheless, and she might be able to grow food for the whole capital on a field the size of the gym with the right fertilizers. She knows all about her vast collection of seeds for crops, flowers and other plants. She showed one of those produces to me mere two days ago, when we partied in anticipation of the wedding in one of the few remaining bars in Archeon.

“Usually, I don’t smoke,” I reminded her.

“But I strongly recommend this one,” Lari answered smirking. I had one draw and it was a sensational experience though I’m uncertain whether I want to repeat it. Drugs unsettle me.

When the dancefloor is opened, I give the first waltz to Sorata, as I promised. We’re swaying among the Silver nobles, most of them relatives or Maven and Iris’s favourite allies. Most of them don’t know what to make of us, or of this festivity as a whole. A Red dances amid them with me, the bastard commoner girl, while my mother, half outsider by association, half trusted advisor to their majesties, doesn’t bat an eye. The groom is a blind man with a freak ability yet the queen herself attends and married him to his bride. Thus, the nobles put on their frozen smiles and clap when appropriate, lest they are deemed second-guessing their rulers.

They might as well boil and drown in their pretends and prejudices. In the end, no one has forgotten they – Maven – have already lost against the Scarlet Guard and the Rift. Even though a part of me is afraid. For my family and the friends I’ve found. What will war and change do to these people, this place? But the change can’t be stopped either way, and possibly, it’ll mean I can dance with Sorata as often and openly as we want, without him fearing the discovery of his ability or any brutal whim of Silvers.

The music stops and we part like all dancing couples. He smiles and asks, “one more?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Roman almost runs into me after four rounds. “Untypical for you,” I chastise him.

“But I wanted to surprise you,” he retorts. “May I dance with you for once, dear sister?”  

“Is it that special piece of music?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“It is.”

Grinning, I take his hands as Danse Macabre begins to play. We haven’t practised recently, but we danced to this music often enough, as a mean of training and to show off our abilities combined. We forgo the lifting steps yet draw attention anyway. “The ladies are staring at the rare sight of you, Roman,” I say panting, “Still not interested in marriage and children?”

He only laughs in response.

“Nor any new love in sight?” I inquire further.

“Ah no, Cassie. I’m a happy bachelor.” But he sighs. “The time with Reuben still carries fond memories.” He seems slightly melancholic. Maybe because I can see Reuben Osanos, his boyfriend for two years, standing at the edge of the dancefloor. They broke up eight months ago.

Later on, we lounge on a chaise longue when Lari jumps up out of a sudden, pulling me up with her, only to lower into a curtsey. Tired from feasting, my attention isn’t as perfect as usual, but I notice our high guest quickly enough. The king – awfully underdressed in his ragged uniform – is walking along the central aisle of the hall and the queen goes to him in greeting while the rest of wedding congregation displays their reverence.

Half of us must be laughing under their breaths. King Maven, returning to Archeon’s court after months of absence, crashes a wedding as if to make up for the ruination of his own. Iris plays along, her smile showing more amusement than it should from mere politeness.

Lari is having none of it. When she rises from her curtsey, she takes my brother’s arm and together, they go to meet the monarchs, me following behind.

“We are most honoured by your presence at our wedding, Your Majesties,” Hagen says and Lari beams in her characteristic way, so enticing that Maven bows to her and kisses her hand.

My new sister-in-law is too much of a perfectionist to let her wedding get crashed. She’s the queen of this party, ruling over small-talk, aesthetics and good taste. Yet I muse why she doesn’t offer him a left-over laurel crown so he doesn’t stand out so much. In the end, even Mother abstains from joining the little group around the royals, probably avoiding to broach the sinister topics of her double play with both Maven and her Rift-allied Haven relations. She’s even invited cousin Elane, but the Rift’s princess hasn’t appeared.

Larissa guides us back to the corner from before, now including the royal party and thus clearly intending us to sit down in a more formal way. In a circle, Iris and Maven sit next to each other, I’m at Iris’s, Larissa’s at Maven’s other side, with Hagen between us. Iris frowns at the sight of Larissa’s special “cigarettes”, but she remains silent about them, picking one of her fancy little juices while Larissa and Maven talk, soon switching to politics.

“… so, if you don’t mind to postpone your honeymoon, my lady, would you serve Norta with your ability?” Maven asks suggestively. As always. He’d make a good merchant, talented at selling you everything. But he is a king and this takes it to a whole new level. Lari keeps on smiling and chatting but she holds Hagen’s hand tightly.

“I do not want to urge and hurry you, my lady, but we should start quickly with growing more crops, which would be greatly helped by your skills,” he continues.

“I am proud to be recognized by Your Majesty,” Lari replies. “I will help you gladly.”

Iris rolls her eyes at her exaggerated politeness but she’s distracted by a new glass of juice put before her. I’m startled to see Sorata serving her and Maven while he’s already dashing off. It’s one of his games to play pretend with the highest Silvers, now that he’s again forced to hide his importance and our closeness. And consequently, Maven doesn’t even notice the Newblood spy who’s able to steal his ability with a touch. Instead he asks Iris about her juice.

She shrugs. “It’s good, try it.”

“It’s … exotic.”

It delivers the perfect prompt for Lari to describe her efforts again, having grown the juices’ rare fruits especially for the queen – upon my suggestion as the queen never drinks alcohol. “I’m sure you’re the best to produce food for Norta, my lady,” Maven compliments her. “Yet, the season demands …”

“The season does not matter to me, Your Majesty. Earth, water, seeds and some fertilizers are enough.”

“But,” Iris wonders, “how can you reap the whole of your fast-growing crops? My lady?”

“My queen, we have enough field workers with the choke front disbanded,” Maven says.

“We do not even need many field workers, Your Majesties,” Lari informs them. “The plants I think of are easily reaped with machines.”

“Provided by our loyal techies?” inquires Hagen, unsettling Maven, but the king nods after a second. Iris gives him a shove.

“Indeed, my lord,” Maven adds, though still befuddled.

Larissa laughs. “How unfortunate the traitor prince only saw engineering as a hobby,” she says, the mention of Tiberias changing the mood immediately. Lari enjoys to play with the fire of the banished royal’s reputation and laughs again. “But, of course he did, since when has he ever been useful?”

Her mocking afterthought might “prove” her loyalty but the playfulness has left our group. Intentionally, I suspect. While the conversation becomes awkward, Larissa and Hagen kiss and cuddle like the newly-wed bride and groom they are, as if to remind everyone of the reason for this event.

The two monarchs decide to leave soon after. Iris beckons me to follow them as if I’m only here as their bodyguard. I don’t protest, sparing myself for more important battles. So I merely watch Iris and Maven walking out of the hall with grand ceremony, hand in hand like this procedure lies in the blood of both of them, the one thing bonding them together more than everything else.

“Seasons?“ Iris blurts out, back in their office. She stands with her arms crossed and faces the windows.

The king leans back in his chair, as comfortable as possible in a room inlaid with silent stone. He shrugs. “Autumn is approaching. It’s better to have matters done before winter.”

“Neither my soldiers, nor you and I, can be bothered by cold weather,” Iris insists. But whatever her point is supposed to be, it makes Maven tense. He turns his chair and stares at his wife. She stares back but no words fall for a minute.

The king clears his throat. “You don’t need to be worried about warfare and terrible living conditions?” asks he.

Iris bites her lip. Then sighs. Finally, the corners of her mouth twitch. “If you put it like that – no. I … would be worried.”

His jaw drops. He mutters something and gestures, but stops himself before his fist hits his desk. Although I can smell smoke.

The queen glares.

“I am sorry, Iris,” Maven replies. “I apologize, I haven’t thought it would come so far.”

“But it has,” she insists and while I piece together the meaning behind their polite niceties, I don’t want to believe it, even as I bring back to mind what she told me two months ago. “We have to think of the future, of House Calore, of Norta, and - our alliance.”

I don’t want to be here at all. I want to fall into a hole and die.

But Iris remembers my presence. She comes to me, smiling, but it is her queenly face. “You have sworn to protect me, Captain Griffey,” she proclaims. “Now swear to protect the heir as well.” She says it so formally, neutral and regally, as if this is just a usual matter of state, not her own child.

Yet I curtsey once more in my beautiful gown and do as she commands, pushing away my own thoughts.

Maven rises at the same moment as I. “As this was your plan, my queen,” he utters, “I leave it to you to make announcements when you see fit.”

“I am grateful for your trust,” she replies sarcastically when he’s already on his way to the door. Then he stops and looks at me.

“You’re dismissed for the night, Captain. There’re enough sentinels in the palace.”

Obviously, he thinks if one has to leave, it should be me, not him. I curtsey again but walk away slowly, curiousity taking the better of me.

I glimpse Iris approaching her husband and patting his shoulder and chest.” We both know how it is to walk on determined paths,” she reminds him. “We choose them still.”

I hear his answer just before I close the door. “I thought I could change them. The monarchy. Everything. I really did … believe …”

A/N: If you read my other fics, or chapter 4 of this one, you would’ve been warned ^^° 

  � 2Wc

So you can imagine the whole thing better, here're some fashion porn photos <3

Cassandra: something between those two plus frilly sleeves (and not cut)

Larissa: I have more than 50 dresses for her this is the best though I miss the golden embroidery >_<

Hagen (totally wrong colour ugh):

Charlotte (Cassie's mum): okay but this is 100 % as I imagine it

Iris: too much cleavage I know though I admit I imagined Iris's dress after I saw this one

 d @clarafarleybarrow @mareshmallow @lilyharvord @redqueenfandom @inopinion @spookysamos @hannaharies @red-queen-united @ssingerqueen @runexandra @iris-cygnets

[charbax]

Recurve (3/??)

sorry for the delay!! Busy with placements and exams, but what better time to procastinate than now lmao. for that have a longer update.

Sha Lin said to dress smart casual, so Lex decides on a simple collared shirt that hides his gun, as well as chinos with pockets big enough for his badge and cuffs, leaving the hair gel sitting on the bathroom counter. ‘I’m not nervous.´ He thought to himself. ‘I’m simply…anticipatory.’

He continues his mantra as he drives to the restaurant, passing by various shops. One flowery sign catches his eye. ‘Surging with flowers’, it reads, and he quickly pulls over. A bell above him tinkles merrily when he pushes the door open. The inside looks more like an overgrown garden, with flowers spilling over shelves and hanging pots, some still planted in rich, dark soil. Despite being close to night-time, the shopkeeper only grins toothily at him, lip piercings and all. “Hi! Can I help ya?”

At first, he opens his mouth to ask where the roses were (for isn’t that what people traditionally gift to their dates?), then Fernando’s face flashes through his mind, stalk clenched in teeth. Maybe not roses, he thinks. “How do I say I love someone, but subtly?” He asks.

The florists disappears in the overgrowth for a moment, then reappears with a pot of red and white flowers blooming on long stems. “Orchids! Very fancy, but very small. Single stem or lots?”

He settles on a singular one, with several blossoms on it, and soon it is wrapped in creamy paper and handed to him with a glossy ribbon. Lex still has no idea if this was Sha Lin’s preferred flowers, or even if he likes flowers at all. That is something Lex hopes to remedy in the future.

He walks briskly into the restaurant ten minutes to seven. He glances around the reception area, taking in the honeyed lights and light chatter from the patrons, none of them being Sha Lin. Cradling the flower in one arm, Lex quickly texts him, I arrived early. Should I wait at the front of the restaurant?

He gets a reply a minute later. i already reserved a table under my name : - ) sit down ill b there soon.

Lex does so, following the waitress to a closed booth and sliding into the seat. He thanks the waitress as she fills the two glasses with water, and she promises to return when his date arrives. He settles into his seat, laying the bouquet on his side so only he can see it. Still, there’s some time before their agreed time, so Lex leans back, content to waiting it out.

Five minutes pass. Sha Lin is not here. Lex tries to keep the frown from his face as he checks his phone. No new messages since his last one. He considers texting Sha Lin, then decides against it, taking a gulp of his water.

His wristwatch strikes ten minutes past seven. His fingers tap a nervous staccato rhythm against the clothed table. The waitress passes, her face carefully set in a polite smile, but her eyes still sweep over the empty seat opposite of Lex.

Finally, when Lex has waited a total of fifteen minutes after their agreed time, Lex risks another text.

It is 7:15. Are you having problems reaching the restaurant?

It sounds a tad formal, but Lex doesn’t want to sound accusatory. He has to wait another five minutes before his phone buzzes.

sorry! ran into some trouble on the way there. will arrive soon in 5 mins tops.

But just as Lex finishes reading it, a scream pierces the air. His and everyone’s heads snaps to the windows, just in time to see people running past. An unnatural quake shake tables and dinnerware, sending some of the patrons diving underneath cover. Lex rushes outside just in time to see an explosion a few blocks away, at the base of an observation tower. It only takes him a moment to decide, then he is pulling out his phone and ringing Sha Lin as he dashes down the road.

After a few rings voice mail greets him. “Hi! This is Sha Lin. Leave your message and I’ll get back you soon.”

“It's Lex. There’s an emergency downtown. I’m afraid I would have to cancel our date.” He says. “Go home. I’ll call you when it’s safe.” He hangs up, racing ever closer to the rubble of the observation tower entrance.

His ‘meddling’ - as put by the instigator of the explosion, a mad scientist that was a fox of all things, really, what has the world come to – leads him to being stranded on top of the observational tower in the revolving restaurant, with the power gone and the criminal of the night escaping on one of his inventions. Lex had already accepted the situation and is sitting down forlornly at one of the tables, unlike the only other individual in the room, who was busy pacing back and forth, all the while glancing where he saw the lab-coat wearing fox was last.

“I can’t believe he got away!” The Desert Wind rages. “Can you believe it? Because I don’t!”

Lex stays quiet, hand on chin as he stares out the window and onto the city lights below. He wonders if Sha Lin is one of those lights, worrying himself sick as he tries again and again to call Lex’s phone, which was unfortunately destroyed in the showdown, much like a majority of the furniture of the revolving restaurant. The power generator, too, is destroyed, leaving them both in the dark, save for the glow of the city.

Luckily, over a radio that was most likely dropped from the security’s belt, his colleagues were quick to assure them that there is still enough oxygen in the room to last until emergency services could clear the gelatinous putty from the emergency stairs, or restore power to the lone elevator, whichever happened first. All they have to do was wait – something which the Desert Wind didn’t seem fond of.

“If only I had the Arrowmobile…” He moans, before Lex finally turns to the superhero.

“There’s not much we can do apart from sit and wait, so, if you please, sit and wait before I make you.”

It’s against his own etiquette speak to civilians and supers as such, but Lex had a long, disappointing day, and there is a migraine forming behind his temples.

The vigilante goes silent, eyebrows rocketing above his mask, then thankfully plants himself into the seat opposite of Lex. The off-duty police officer turns back to the window. A second later however, he hears the scape of cutlery on expensive china.

He whips back just in time to see the Desert Wind shove a forkful of untouched suizoi burrito into his mouth. “…what?” The vigilante asks.

“Seriously?” Lex asks, disbelieving. “How can you eat at a time like this?”

“With a fork?”

Lex holds his head in one hand, the feeling of incredulousness warring with the urge to snort at the joke. The Desert Wind gestures over to the covered plate with his fork. “You should eat something too, to keep your energy up.”

The pang of hunger betrays Lex, but he at least takes a moment to pretend he won’t act so unprofessionally. “I’m not going to potentially disturb the evidence from the crime scene.”

“I am and you’re not telling me off.”

“Don’t act too comfortably, there’s still some scolding in me.” It really is, but there’s no bite to his words. Funny, how fast they seemed to move on from the fact that the mad scientist still escaped by the hair of his tail. “But funnily enough, you seem to be taking this whole situation well.”

The superhero shrugged. “Actually I’m still kind of mad. But we’re stuck here, there’s some food in front of me, and I’m hungry because I was going to eat out tonight. Plus, I could be stuck with worse people.” At the last sentence, he sends a grin at Lex.

He’s right, if Lex is being honest with himself. He could be stuck outside the building instead of inside. Still, his mind keeps returning to his cancelled date, especially now, looking at the vigilante’s masked face but easy-going smile, and he can’t help but wonder what would his night have been like if there was no attack in the first place.

In fact, if the other wasn’t wearing a mask, and the stairs weren’t blocked, this…thing could’ve been easily mistakened for a date, with the food and the sights and the other man who is currently finishing the last of his ‘evidence’. ‘Does this count as a date?’ The thought makes Lex’s eyes narrow.

The superhero only tilts his head confusedly when he notices Lex’s expression, but Lex only mutters, “It’s nothing.” Silence follows his words, and they drink it in.

They stay like that until the lights flicker back on, and the radio crackles to life, informing that it was safe to use the elevators now, effectively breaking the spell.

[kashmiresims]

Bridal Pains

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The setting was rather decadent in the worst of ways. Frills, flowery perfume, and an exorbitant amount of white décor. The only thing L'Amour Bridal Boutique had going for it was the classical music playing in the showroom.

Evelyn Jane was there at her elder sister's request. Speaking of Victoria, she was standing in front of a series of mirrors in a wedding gown while a tailor was fiddling with the petticoat.

"Can you take that bit up, Gene?" Victoria asked. She didn't look pleased. Evelyn Jane couldn't see why. The dress was absolutely beautiful and looked gorgeous on her.

"You don't want to disturb the material it too much, I can take it away but adding it back is tricky. I'd advise you not to Miss Orbinson," the tailor said from where he was crouched at her feet.

"Nice dress," Evelyn Jane commented as she approached.

Victoria's expression of displeasure lifted at once at hearing Evelyn Jane's voice. She turned and pulled her sister into a tight hug, "Evie! You made it!"

She then turned to the tailor and said, "Fine. I won't take any of it up."

The tailor looked relieved. He'd probably been dealing with Victoria's bouts of Bridezillah-ness all afternoon. 

"What did you need?' Evelyn Jane asked as she followed Victoria into the changing room. Victoria gestured to the laces at the back of her bridal gown and Evelyn Jane obliged by loosening them. Her sister then went on the other side of a dressing screen.

"You're picking out a bridesmaid dress today, dear sister."

When Evelyn Jane got a call from Victoria earlier that day to meet, she didn't expect this was what it was for. Victoria knew Evelyn Jane would try to avoid it until the last minute, so never mentioned exactly what they were to meet about. Curse Victoria for knowing Evelyn Jane’s habits too well.

Victoria had piled a few dresses on hangers for her sister to try on. All were pink as previously promised.  

"Why do I have to choose? It's your wedding." Evelyn Jane bemoaned and looked at the choices with distaste. Victoria was done changing back to her casual clothing. She rolled her eyes with a playful air as she passed.

"Evie, I know you dislike the color but it's important to me that you pick something that you’re most comfortable in," Victoria smiled and took a seat to wait.

Evelyn Jane pulled her striped shirt off and set it in the changing booth, exchanging it with a short peplum-style dress. It squeezed against her thighs but as she checked herself out in the mirror, she realized her legs looked awesome. The color was wrong on her though.  

She stepped out and gestured toward herself for Victoria's appraisal, caught site of herself from the side and grimaced. While her legs looked great, her behind looked larger than usual.

"Oooh you look so good in that!"

"Well then that's settled," Evelyn Jane said dryly and made to go back and get dressed.

"No! You have to try them all on. What if you look better in the next?"

Evelyn Jane rolled her eyes but acquiesced and tried the second dress on. It was long, invoked more of a formality than the first. She made a disapproving face at seeing her reflection. It might have been exquisitely flattering but it made her look like some sort of spring maiden, something she was definitely not.

"How is Sawyer" Evelyn Jane inquired, making a quick appearance to show Victoria the second dress and intended to go right back in.

"He's fine," Victoria answered but stopped Evelyn Jane from returning and asked her to do a twirl.

When they were girls, they would spend their summer days inventing elaborate dance routines to show their father when he returned from work. Evelyn Jane had become very graceful through that practice. She executed a perfect twirl much to Victoria's amusement. The skirt of the dress flowed outward. Okay, she had to admit It was fun to wear but she doubted she'd be able to twirl much at the wedding.

"Has he found a job yet?"

Victoria briefly scowled at Evelyn Jane for the doubtful tone. Sawyer was Victoria's husband-to-be. He was a nice guy but he was a dreamer—wanted to travel the world and sweep Victoria off her feet. Their family had reservations at first at Victoria's pick in a partner.

He had a lot of good ideas for business start-ups through if he could just find an investor...  

It wasn't like he was soon to have a wealthy father-in-law who could provide a means to lift a fledgling business off the ground.

"He's going to be his own boss. He has a series of investment meetings this week. Tomorrow is the first one."

"Well good luck with that," Evelyn Jane said and returned to the changing booth to try on the last dress.  

It made her look like their grandmother. Despite her protests, Victoria insisted on seeing how it looked and once Evelyn Jane stepped out from behind the dressing screen, Victoria was sent into pits of laughter.

"That's the one!"

"Vicky, NO," Evelyn Jane started to mildly panic, "Besides you said I could choose!"

It would be disastrous if she was seen wearing something so gaudy. There would be photographers and possible even journalists since it was an Orbinson wedding.

"I'm just teasing. Plumbbobs, calm down," Victoria finished laughing, making a show of how funny it was by clutching her tummy. She often riled her little sister up as older sisters tended to do, ever since they were children.

Evelyn Jane grit her teeth together, she disliked being teased—mostly because it caused her to lose composure.  There was something she found shameful in being set up for a reaction and taking the bait. At least that was the impression her parents had always given her. There was a careful and delicate tightrope of personal versus public face the Orbsinons always maintained.  

"Are you bringing anyone to the wedding? You know you can have a plus one," Victoria asked after finishing off her laughter. Evelyn Jane quickly disappeared behind the screen once more to change back into her regular clothes; she couldn’t stand to be in that baby pink nightmare any longer than needed.

And regarding Victoria’s comment, Who could Evelyn Jane even bring? She couldn't think of anyone to suit a spot.

"I don't know," she finally admitted after pulling her shirt over her head.

"What about the Ambassador?"

Evelyn Jane didn't hide the derisive snort at the suggestion, as she pulled on her white skinny jeans and heels.

Like hell she was going to take someone her parents wanted to match her up with.

"I don't even know him. I'd rather just go alone."

"You don't mean that, Evie," Victoria said. It annoyed Evelyn Jane that Victoria thought she knew everything Evelyn Jane felt.

Evelyn Jane popped her head around the screen and frowned, "Yes. I. Do. Now drop it."

It wasn't like she had a secret stash of male escorts to pick from. She hadn't had time nor interest to cultivate any kind of relationships with men in college, not when Shaun Piper's shadow constantly lurked over her head.

She bitterly thought about how every other Sunday she was expected to meet him. To collaborate.  

She wiped that melancholy thought from bleeding into a facial expression and returned to Victoria with the dresses draped over her arm.

"So...which dress do you want? I'll buy it for you," Victoria smiled, now concerned with the matter at hand and thankfully not on her sister's love life.

"If I must choose—the first one is acceptable enough."

"Don't sound so excited. You could be having to wear the one in grandmother's style," Victoria was back to teasing but Evelyn Jane was prepared and didn't lash out with a reply. Victoria then took the dresses, placed the rejects on a rack and they walked to the front of the boutique to the check-out.

As promised, Victoria paid. Despite the dress not being something Evelyn Jane would ever buy herself, she was appreciative that Victoria was kind enough to realize that and purchase it for her. She really was a princess from a fairy tale, despite her elder sister tendencies to provoke Evelyn Jane at times. Evelyn Jane gave a genuine smile but before she could thank Victoria, her cell phone rang.

Evelyn Jane's smile vanished as she saw who it was that was calling. She should have just not answered—but that was risky. She told Victoria she would be a minute and went outside, leaving her sister to banter with the dress tailor.

"What do you want?" She asked as soon as she answered, "You aren’t supposed to call me."

"Miss Evie, that is no tone to take with me. I was calling to inform you that I am moving our collaboration meeting to tonight."

"What? You can't do that!" She hissed.

"I can do what I damn well please. If you don’t like it, take it up with the reporters who will be on your father's doorstep first thing in the morning. I hear your sister's wedding is coming up soon not to mention he's is running a re-election campaign. It would be a shame for everyone to discover our relationship so close to these events."

The way he referred to it as a 'relationship' made her skin crawl.

"Wait!" Evelyn Jane's eyes went wide as she struggled to maintain composure and not resort to shouting expletives at the maestro in front of L'Amour Bridal Boutique. It had been a long time since he'd openly threatened to leak their affair to the public, "Fine. What time would you like to meet?"

"The usual. nine o'clock this evening. Wear something fine."

She was about to ask him why but he had ended the call. She made a frustrated noise at the back of her throat.

"Hey Evie! Are you free tonight? Sawyer is flying to Quincy this evening to present to a prospective investor tomorrow and I thought we could get dinner and have a sleepover!" Victoria startled Evelyn Jane by coming up behind her and asking.

Evelyn Jane shook her head regretfully, and it pained her to say "Sorry, but I have a previous engagement."

[dagmar-aster-devir]

Do you throw fêtes? I don't know why but I imagine you have the most glorious balls. From everything like Cinderella fairytale to debauched Oberon & Titania, midnight in the garden, clothing is optional type events. Please do tell how you arrange it all. And if there has been a favorite theme. Or even one so well received you have simply repeated it.

 Madam has glorious balls. The ones people attend are magnificent as well.

  Madam is also proof that the human sense of humour has been terrible from day one.

 But yes, I am very fond of fetes, balls, soirees, garden parties, orgies and all other forms of party you can dream up. Arranging it is pretty boring- once the theme is picked, I get Igor to call the caterers, florists, the guy who helps set up the games, etc… Whoever needs to be arranged gets arranged.

 Picking them can be fun:

-Some are for a holiday; being a Vampire, I’m big into Halloween. Being a hedonist and a pervert, Valentine’s Day is another one on my list.- Some are for individual people. Every year Ida’s birthday is a huge airy outdoor celebration. Lots of gauze and conveniently arranged flowers for outfits, getting naked in the lake, sex in the woods. All the flowery things she’s into. Igor keeps his quieter, but I did enjoy seeing him light up last year when I found a man who could light the candles on Igor’s cake the same way they animate Frankenstein’s creature in the movies.

- Customers can request them- often it’s themed parties. From conventional things (BDSM, themed costumes, fetish nights), to more fringe events (cross-species*, supernatural events, the furries**)- Species specific events. Werewolves can let their hair down and get up on the couches, banshees can go scream into each other’s bits on the roof, vampires can lie around pretending they’ll fuck someone else but to be frank our narcissistic asses are just enjoying looking good around other good looking narcissists. We’re a bit like cats in that aspect.

And it goes on. Once the reason/holiday/event is picked, then, themes. A recurring favourite with human patrons is Supernatural Night. We creatures of the night dress up as ~supernaturally~ as possible, and interact with them. All the vampires are in capes and gowns, the werewolves at their most “hairy construction worker with a shirt allergy”. Igor’s limp and lisp are polished to a shine, etc…

 For us supernaturals, species nights are a big hit, though some funny themes have done well. For example- we had a Human Night (as a response to Supernatural Night), and we all dressed up like regular humans and did human things (my date to the event was my “dog” Snowball, whom I took for walkies, bragged about her breed to “Pam” and “Brenda” while we had coffee together, then just to be cruel Madam made her wear dog booties and filmed her trying to walk in them.

 Like this, but imagine instead a fluffy white werewolf the size of a horse**.

Another repeated theme is similar to your ask- the fairy nights. While elves and fairies are real, they’re not exactly like humans now see them. Elves are bastards, and frankly a bit creepy (hot Hugo Weaving in a fiiiiiine lace-front, they are not, much to my chagrin). Fairies are so delightful- they should be Australian wildlife (like the funnel web spider, or the box jellyfish). So we put on the wings (usually just the wings, frankly) and go skip in the woods and hump on the lawn under romantic lighting and the stars.

 The Halloween celebration is always THE celebration of the year, and themes abound- this year’s theme is “Things in Nature”. Madam’s wondering if some sheer green, blue, and purple scarves twined on would count as the aurora borealis, or if she’ll have to put pasties on so Igor stops rolling his eyes. Madam’s favourite theme was two years ago. The theme was “Opposites”. Madam turned herself from Mistress of the Night to the Queen of Malibu Beach, and it took even Igor nearly an hour to realise who it was.

 On a slightly less sexual angle- the tea and garden parties I throw have repeating themes- every year there’s a Queen Elizabeth impersonator at the Yatch Club spring tea (with hat judging competition), a murder mystery dinner, a Dynasty costume tea, a “come as your drink” party***, and the unofficial-official Introducing of the Grandchildren tea.

 (Matchmaking is an ancient and dignified tradition)

 *And let me tell you. If you have ever seen a werewolf try to hump a centaur, then you have officially seen too many things. Even Madam nearly choked on her partner when she caught sight of that.

** Madam would like to clarify, that as legendary (and nasty) as her interests are, “Snowball” was human for the smutty portion of things.

*** Madam will never forget the sight of 103 year old Mrs. Davenport-Gardinier pulling up in nothing but a skimpy beach towel, her wig on crooked, and her shoes on the wrong feet, with lingerie and a men’s speedo hanging off of her walker. When asked, she said she was a “sex on the beach”.

 A close second though, was Igor. He was in a normal suit, except the bum, which was covered in some shiny reflective material. He was Moonshine.