#i also updated my rules just a tad so please give it a read!!

[iedolon]

i said i was editing my chara page and ended up making a whole new carrd oops anyways here it is sdkhfsjkfhJKFSDHJFK

[mossy-paws]

✨Introduction✨

Deciding to add some information as well as update this a bit as it’s a tad outdated! (Update part 8! Updating my links + art so nothing too extreme!)

💜 Some starter info!

• I go by (in order of preference): Cro/Mossy.Paws (or just Mossy)/Marine/Ocean; and if I know you in real life, you can call me Sea!

• I am an Aceflux potential-lesbian! I also use Any pronouns!

Current Fandoms: Phighting!, The Magnus Archives, regretevator, lethal company, little nightmares, Hollow knight, rainworld, Spider-Man, Warrior cats, etc.

minor (14-17 age range)

Comms: Open for discord nitro and robux! (DM me here or at ^-Mossy.Paws-^ on discord for extra information!)

Asks: Open (read below for permissions)

Instagram: The_OceanCat

Twitter: Mossypawsss

Pinterest: Mossy.Paws (Important note: I rarely post to Pinterest, I only post on Pinterest to avoid my art getting stolen.)

Strawpage, just if you wanna send me any fun doodles and stuff :3!, it will be updated later! https://mossypawssspage.straw.page

Artfight link: https://artfight.net/~Mossy-Paw

Feel free to use my art for profiles and or banners! It’s a little preferred that you ask first via dm’s/comments/reblog’s but honestly I don’t mind :DD! Just make sure to credit me if you do! It’ll make my day for sure ^^!

I have tags I use now! :DD! Here they are

#Cro chatter (used mainly for when I’m just chatting/reblogging stuff/etc)

#Friend art (used when reblogging stuff by close friends)

#Phighting! Magnus Archives au (This Tag is used for my most recent Wip of a crossover Au or TMA x PHIGHTING! currently there’s not going to be many posts dedicated to it except teaser posts until mid-to late summer once I start coloring everything.)

Any art tags or fandom related tags explain themself ! I also use #Not my art a lot as well!

• I only have like one irl friend who follows me on here and most likely you have seen her harass me in my reblog’s or askbox,,, please ignore our shenanigans we are not normal /silly /love ya Rosa 💖

• An important note: I do not have a reblog only account, this is my only account, and its used for pretty much everything (My art, reblog’s, talking, etc, if you would prefer to only see art I recommend blogging the #Cro Chatter tag as I attach it to all of my askbox replies (minus requests)

‼️Commission Info:‼️

✨ My commission’s are OPEN!

• I take payment in form of Discord Nitro (NOT BASIC), and Robux!

• If interested, please dm me for prices, questions, and more! I’ll be sure to give you a full rundown of what I can draw, my rules, etc!

My commission carrd: (Only covers prices for Robux comms!)

✨ My Askbox (OPEN)

✅Open ❌Closed ❎Tentative

✅/❎ Requests (This really just depends on what the ask is about, if it’s for my aus then it’s most likely a yes, if it’s just a misc art request or what not then it’s a 50/50)

❎/✅Talk to me

✅✅Ask about my Oc’s/Au’s/etc (always yes with this one!)

✅Ask about my HCs

❌OC Requests (Usually no)

❄️ Read Before Asking

I'll delete asks I'm uncomfortable with.

NO nsfw or suggestive, you’ll be blocked and reported as I am a minor with no tolerance for that.

Requests will open and close as needed, and I will let you know when they open again!

I will try to get to every request, but it may take it a bit since I’m a full time student who has a life outside of art and social media lol

Some asks I may take longer to respond to than others (sorry to the poor soul who asked for a sleepy catshot doodle back in fucking DECEMBER you’ll get your catshot soon I swear 😭)

‼️Disclaimers

Do not steal, trace, copy, or claim my art to be yours, certain things like designs for canon characters and stuff I’m fine with you taking inspiration from (!!ASK FIRST!!), or using with credit (a small note, I am completely fine with you using my designs as long as you credit me! If anything, I appreciate it very much that people like them enough to do so :3!)

Proshippers, homo/transphobes, mean or generally gross people DNI‼️ it’s also preferred that if you have NSFW/highly suggestive stuff/or fetish content on your account that you don’t follow me, as I tend to check the profiles of people who follow me and I don’t want to see that (I would also prefer my parents do not see that if they were to ever check my account LOL)

Please don't make highly suggestive or NSFW comments towards me, my oc’s, or characters, you’ll be blocked if you do so; I am relatively alright with very minor and safe suggestive stuff from friends, but even then if it’s art related, please confirm if it’s alright with me. Very close friends get a slight pass with this as long as it’s in good fun and safe, but if pushed I will not tolerate it and will give you a warning.

I’m still learning how to use this website so please be polite and patient with me :’>

If you draw fanart of my OCs, AUs, or Headcanons, please tag me!! I absolutely love to see fanart and it makes my day! :DD!

‼️Important note: my blog will sometimes contain art that has blood, gore, violence, bright colors, horror media, etc. These WILL be put under spoiler tags though, but a lot of the older ones are not, so please be careful! (A note, I don’t tend to draw stuff like that too often unless you count my TMA au, so no need to worry about it too much!)‼️

⭐️ Extra information about me

• I am a young minor with diagnosed autism, adhd, and ocd, I also have slight social anxiety, so please, PLEASE be patient with me, as I can have trouble communicating, understanding things, or coming up with responses

• Never be afraid to approach me about anything, although I’m a bit nervous talking to new people, I adore making new friends, just please don’t be weird, if you make me outright uncomfortable I will most likely block you.

• For fanart and such, feel free to contact me about it if you need ideas, permissions, reference images, or need to know anything important!

• I’m a full time school student and can be relatively busy, I also have notifications off on all platforms, so I may be slow to respond if you dm me or try to contact me.

• I’m a huge nerd and absolutely love talking about my interests, but if I ever get too excited or overbearing, never be afraid to just tell me to take a chill pill or calm down, I can promise you I will not be angry! Communication is key with me since I can have issues understanding others, if I’m ever too much to handle, just say it! I’ll greatly appreciate it as it helps me to grow and be a better person ^^!

• I am currently obsessed with Phighting!, regretevator, lethal company, little nightmares, rainworld, and spiderman, but I also am super big into hollow knight, pokemon, Minecraft, Sky: COTL, and sort of warrior cats ig..?

Here’s the link to my Carrd!

(it also includes commission rules and such!)

[the-letter-horror-lover]

The Pros and Cons of Owning a Circus

ImmediatelyWriting

Summary:

After getting plucked off the streets, our beloved gutter rats started ruling a circus. They’d never thought this would be so much work. Going from choosing stage names and acts to shopping for clothes and training everyone.

How is our humble family doing when working up to their first performance and will they eventually have an audience to perform for... and of course the skills and guts to actually do anything while on stage for the very first time.

Notes:

This is a pre-Black Butler – Book of Circus fanfiction, I suggest to first watch this season before reading this fanfiction. Not because of spoilers, but because you’ll probably want to know Joker, Beast, Dagger, Doll, Snake, Peter, Wendy and Jumbo before reading something completely about our beloved circus crew :)

Also, I do not own the characters in this fanfiction... They are from the anime/manga Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) and so they belong to Yana Toboso (writer manga).

Hope you'll enjoy this small fanfiction, keep me updated on what you think :)

A writer needs her feedback, you know ;)

Also! This story has already been finished.

Love, Noa

Chapter 1: Quite the Unusual Bunch

Chapter Text

Joker

Not long after us gutter rats had been plucked off the streets, the real work had begun. At first I didn’t think trying to get a circus going would be that big of a task, but running one proofed itself to be pretty hard.

Like anyone would, we started out by picking stage names. I became Joker, and then there’s my fellow gutter rats and humble family: Jumbo, Beast, Dagger, Doll, Peter and Wendy.

A seemingly small group to run a complete circus. Also, too few and untalented people for decent performance which would draw an audience. So the search for talented folks that wanted to join us began.

We searched everywhere, finding quite a bunch wanting to join us. Unfortunately these weren’t folks with real talents, but more rather unusual persons like the batch we started off with.

Now, this meant we had to start training both ourselves and the herd we had gathered. Making it even more of a tough task.

This began with me going around, asking what everyone would want to do. Of course, I started by asking Beast, Dagger, Doll and the other first-string members. With choosing our acts we had to also keep in mind that our bodies still were quite broken; even though we got fixed up with new limbs, there were some errors from time to time. We couldn’t risk anything like letting beast walk the tightrope or making me do the trapeze. We had to think everything through rationally.

Dagger was still holding on to the thought of throwing knifes. Not only because he’d love to learn it, but also because it suited his new name.

“It’d be strange if I’d start making cartwheels all over the place,” he said, chuckling and glancing at Beast for approval. “Wouldn’t it?”

So, just like that, we decided that Dagger would be our knife thrower. One down, but a lot left to decide.

Peter and Wendy asked for an act together, because that’d be most enjoyable to them. Since none of their bodies had ever been broken and both Wendy and Peter were rather flexible, I didn’t mutter when they asked for the trapeze act.

Jumbo didn’t ask for a lot, only a tad bit of time on stage would be enough to please him. He’d rather have one of the small opening acts, than having to be the climax of the show.

I immediately saw to that. Meaning I was going to think about it, trying to come up with a wee act that’d still give him the chance to steal the show.

Beast and Doll, on the other hand had a lot more trouble coming with a fitting act. Beast suggested doing trampoline acts, or doing something with acrobatics. She even mentioned something with a curtain way of dancing.

I must admit, she’s always had the right curves and looks to be doing a dance or something acrobatic. Unfortunately, I had to turn down those suggestions.

“Why, Joker?” she asked me, explaining how strong she’d become with her new leg.

I shook my head and I would’ve walked away if it hadn’t been her I was talking with. So, I took a deep breath and told her it’d be too much of a risk. I pointed out all of the problems she’d been experiencing with her prosthesis lately. If something like that would occur on stage, or while practicing something difficult, it could easily hurt her or break the prosthesis. It would possibly get her to be unable to perform for days, weeks or even months.

After a long argue about this, Beast had finally agreed on it being rather foolish to let her do something acrobatic. She had to come up with something new, and fast.

That left Doll and me still having to pick one of the ruling acts... and of course all the performers of every side-act had to be decided as well.

Before picking one ruling act myself, I went to the youngest of the bunch; my young darlin’ sister from another mister, Doll. She’d been thinking about what she wanted to do for a while now.

“Nothin’ too girly!” she demanded right away. I immediately thought she’d bring me a large list of requirements, but after all that was her only wish. Other than that, she couldn’t care less about what act she’d get. She just wouldn’t be wearing dresses or girly make up. Neither would she put her hair in a ponytail, knot or anything that’d make her mutilated eye show.

We went through almost all of her options for the ruling acts. She rejected everything from doing fire performances to doing a clown act. But after almost an hour of searching for the right act, she chose – the in my opinion most girly act of all – walking the tightrope.

“No, that isn’t girly at all, Joker,” she yelled at me when I pointed out how girly that act would be in my opinion. “Even the toughest fellas, like you, wouldn’t have the balls to cross a tightrope.”

I chuckled, leaning against the wall. I tousled her brown hair as she stuck out her tongue before pushing me onto the floor to show me how strong and manly she could be.

I laughed even harder when she teasingly said, “See? You don’t even have the guts to push me back, pussy!”

I glanced at her with a serious look on my face while whispering, “Are ya sure, little missy?” before getting on my feet and lifting her up. While I held her in the air I tickled her, she was swinging her legs and laughing and shrieking.

“Not so tough now, are we?” I joked before putting her down.

She stared at me, not laughing anymore, and asked, “So, what act are you going to do?”

I shrugged. That was the biggest question of all: What performance was I going to do?

That same evening, I sat down and glanced at the piece of paper in my hand. Everything had been written down from Beast still thinking about her choice to Dagger who knew exactly what he wanted to do.

As I looked at my scribbled handwriting in between the blue lines, I spotted my name. The space behind it, still empty.

What was I going to do?

I wouldn’t want to dance or jump on a trampoline, that would look strange. Riding a unicycle wouldn’t suit me either.

But what would?

There’s not even one act that would suit me in the slightest. It would all look weird or it’d be dangerous to do while I’m still adjusting to my new right hand.

I sighed before leaning with my head against the wall. I was exhausted, running all over the places trying to get everything ready to communicate it to father.

All the paperwork is depended on me. Without me doing everything right on paper, father wouldn’t give us the money to buy enough uniforms.

I yawn, my eyes were nearly closing even though the clock only just ringed to tell me it had just gotten nine P.M.. Not late at all.

My hand fell from my lap to the ground as my eyes slowly closed.

Today had been too exhausting.

Chapter 2: Hooping, Acrobatics and Unicycling

Chapter Text

Beast

Another day began with Joker running around and trying to get everything going.

While he was trying to get the paperwork together, Dagger, Doll, Jumbo, Peter, Wendy and I were trying to get everyone training on some common circus acts.

We split the whole twenty headed group into four small groups.

Dagger would train a group of five on the unicycles.

Peter and Wendy would train five people on hooping and acrobatics.

Jumbo helped five people with chair balancing.

That left Doll and me to train a five headed group of people to do assistant jobs on and off stage. After all we needed people backstage to call people when needed on stage, we found our assistant for Dagger’s knife throwing act and we needed people who could put the needed props on stage and removed them afterwards.

It was quite boring to train people to do such things. I’d rather taught them how to ride a unicycle than how to clean up after everyone’s done.

Fortunately we finished training by noon. We were forced to stop when Joker came in, a worried look on his face.

As soon as everyone had left, he looked at all of us one by one. He opened his mouth, shyly glanced away and asked, “What act would suit me?”

I shrugged, even though I’d always found him a quite social person. Joker’s awkward, but he still managed to say the right things. I’d imagine him being the main speaker of the circus, but I wouldn’t know if he’d like that himself.

“What would you think of acrobatics in those curtain things?” Doll suggested.

Joker shook his head and answered, “Too dangerous, what if my hand aches while doing such performance?” he answered, he really wanted no one to be in danger. “It could be fatal.”

Doll sadly looked down at her feet, but she didn’t give up as she kept suggesting different acts. Joker refused to do any of them out of safety.

“Uhm, Joker?” I asked, he turned to me immediately with curiosity in his eyes. “What if you’d become our main speaker? You know the announcer of all acts and the opener of the show?”

Joker’s cheeks turned red as everyone agreed that he should be the one doing that. He’d been leading this enormous group for the last few days, it’d been mean not to give him at chance at taking the main act of the show.

“Yeah, I dunno,” he mumbled.

“No, Joker,” I said, making him look up at me. “You can do this. There are enough reasons, this act is meant to be. You’re talkative, cheerful...”

“Good with kids,” Doll added.

Dagger chuckled before saying, “And you’re loud. Everyone would be able to hear you.”

“Yeah, even the last row,” Peter joked.

We all stared at Joker, waiting for his answer. But Joker didn’t answer, he looked down at his lap, his cheeks still as red as roses.

“Well?” I asked.

He looked up, he hesitated one more time before grinning. “Alright then,” he replied, his blush slowly took away. “I’ll be your main announcer... your Ringleader”

Chapter 3: Dresses... Many dresses

Summary:

I'm so sorry, I have gone to the movies with a friend yesterday evening and totally forgot to post the new chapter... My fault... Here it is after all, sorry again for the longer wait, I'll try to keep up with posting but I'm also going into my exams really soon... I'll try, but I can't promise I get to posting every sunday and Thursday... Sorry...

Love, Noa <3

Chapter Text

Doll

“Okay, everyone get ready!” Joker said as he held an envelope in the air.

Beast, Dagger, Wendy, Peter, Jumbo and I all sat on the damp grass in the courtyard of the workhouse. Everyone was eager to know what Joker had hidden in the envelope.

“We’re going to buy some outfits!” he cheerfully announced while he pulled a pile of money from the envelope. “Father gave us money to buy circus uniforms and greasepaint for everyone.”

I jumped up, shrieking, “Yes!”. I’d never gone out to buy clothing, it’s not like we had the money before father had found us.

Joker chuckled, he tousled my hair before telling all of us to get up and come with him. We’d finally go to shops to buy clothes for the first time.

It didn’t take long to get to the closest shopping street. It almost felt filthy to walk through the rich streets, as every one of the rich folks would look at our old and worn out clothing. Because even though we hadn’t been living on the streets for quite some time, and our clothes had been washed, people still managed to see that group of poor children.

While trying to ignore what people thought of us, we walked into a clothes store. A little bell rang as we came in through the door and within no time a man stood in front of us.

“Can a help you, young folk?” the man asked with a polite though confused smile.

I took at step back, almost falling backwards while bumping into Beast, while Joker stepped forward.

“Yes, sir,” he said, as fancy as he was able to. “We are searching for some nice, though colourful clothing. May we have a look around?”

The shop owner stepped aside and let us into his rather large shop. There were fancy shirts, white dresses and entire suits hanging from the wall.

I mouth opened stared at all the clothes as the man told us to fit whatever we fancied.

Peter and Wendy immediately left to see the smallest clothing in the shop, while Jumbo asked where he could find the largest.

That left Beast, Dagger, Joker and me back at the door. I had no idea where to look first. Even though I’d never liked dresses, those white ones with frayed edges and large bows all looked really beautiful and fancy to me.

Dagger immediately turned to Beast, telling her he could tell her exactly in which dress she’d look the prettiest. Right after that he took off with her, pulling her to the section with leather dresses.

I looked up to Joker, who stared at the clothes with wide eyes. I had never seen him that amazed in my whole life.

He glanced at me when he noticed me looking at him. He grinned before saying, “That leaves us, huh?”

I nodded.

“Let’s get looking for an outfit to your taste then.” He laid his hand on my back while escorting me to the “young ladies” department of the shop.

Joker let go of my shoulder and looked me in the eye. “Stay here until I get back, okay?”

I nodded and answered, “I’m not a child anymore, you can go and look for your own outfit.”

He nodded and smiled at me before walking away.

I looked up, searching for a suiting dress. Everything there were hanging, were dresses. Small or large, short or long, with or without bow. Every fabric, just another shade of a different colour.

A long, tight, black dress caught my eye first. Maybe because the bottom part of it looked rather like pants than an actual dress. But I eventually realised it’d be too tight for the act I was going to perform.

A loose and quite baggy dress grabbed my attention next, but the bright pink was way too girly for my taste.

I searched, digging for the right dress. But I couldn’t find one.

It took me so long, that by the time I had given up, Joker had returned with his outfit all ready picked out and fitted completely.

“Have you found one already?” he asked.

I shook my head, sadly looking down at the floor. “They have nothing good.”

Joker made some thinking-sounds while searching in between the dresses. I watched as he picked out a white dress with silver flowers on the dress-coat. He matched it with a pair of flat, white shoes and leggings, one black and one white.

He looked at me, handing me the outfit.

“Why don’t you fit this?” he asked while pointing at the fitting room. “I bet it’ll look adorable.”

I looked down at the pile he had just pushed into my hands and hesitatingly walked into the fitting room.

I fit on the clothes and when I looked in the mirror I almost liked it. It’s too big, meaning that the dress was a little baggy and the leggings weren’t quite tight enough. But Joker was right, it looked good.

By the time I changed back into my own clothes and left the fitting room, everyone had already gathered there. They all had chosen their outfits. Joker even went crazy and chose an outfit for every one of the other performers.

“Is that one going to do?” Joker asked.

I nodded, happy I had finally found the right outfit.

We paid for clothing, and we even had money to spare. Of course this was great, some of us would be needing make-up, wigs or hair dye, so we could use the extra money.

Everything went in bags, going from Joker’s extensive outfit – existing of a white shirt, a black and golden suit coat, striped pants a golden bow and black heels – to Peter and Wendy’s simple outfits – a pink dress and a green suit.

I believe everyone was really glad we all got our outfits together. Amazed at how many choice of clothing the rich people have.

With our acts decided, our training started and outfits together, the real work could begin.

Chapter 4: Noah's Ark Circus

Chapter Text

Dagger

We all knew, now everything had been decided and we were training hard for days already, it was time to spread posters for our first time performance. The only problem, we didn’t yet have our posters made... or decided on a name for the circus.

Joker got all of us first-string members together to talk about this important subject. We had to decide a name. One we all liked, would sound attracting for the audience and would suit our acts.

“East End Circus,” Doll suggested. She explained it would tell people we’re living on the streets before starting this circus, it would tell our story.

“Yeah, but so would The Gutter Circus, wouldn’t you agree?” Joker answered. “That wouldn’t really attract people.”

Beast thought deeply before she suggested, “Tower Bridge Show, maybe?”

Joker wrote it down, and if he hadn’t I would’ve told him to write it down, because Beast’s amazing ideas cannot be ignored.

“Anyone else?” Joker asked, it was clear he had some ideas himself as well.

I opened my mouth, still thinking of a good name.

London’s Spectacle? No... too blunt.

Marvellous Aerial Circus? Too... strange.

“The Enchanting Circus,” I mumbled, not even noticing that I said that out loud until Peter and Wendy started laughing.

“Wait, you’re kidding right?” Peter laughed.

“You must be,” Wendy said.

Beast turned to the two and sighed. “Well, we’re here to consider names. He’s at least trying.”

She smiled at me when Peter and Wendy stopped laughing at me. I smiled back and as my eyes met her I suddenly felt really warm.

She glanced away again, but I watched her as she opens her mouth and asked, “So, Joker? Have you got any ideas?”

Joker shrugged and thought.

“I was thinking something like Mayor Make-Believe Show...” He hesitated, shaking his head as he said it out loud. “No... no.” He tapped with his fingers on this ground besides him when a large grin appeared on his face.

“What?” Beast asked in curiosity.

“I got it,” Joker cheerfully replied. “The Noah’s Ark Circus.”

Chapter 5: Snake

Chapter Text

Joker

Again a few days had passed by. They went fast as everyone was busy training to get their act good enough. Doll was doing balance practice, Dagger was training his throwing skills and Peter and Wendy have been practicing their trapeze act. Then there’s Jumbo, who eventually got the fire breathing act and Beast who chose to be our animal tamer.

And me... Our Ringleader.

I wrote my text, every word I have to say when on stage. Only thing left to do is practicing some quick tricks like juggling and such. And of course I had to learn everything I need to say by heart within a month.

Today we had to go out to spread the posters we’d made a few days ago. Otherwise no one will come to see our first show.

Jumbo, Wendy and Peter had to stay at the training field with the rest of the performers to get some more practice going, while Beast, Dagger, Doll and I went outside to spread around some posters.

We didn’t have too many big posters to hang on walls, so we had to hand some to people to even spread the news of our circus. At first it was quite scary to approach people like that and explaining that we were a new circus with large acts.

Some people didn’t even bother to stop when we wanted to explain them what it was all about and just threw their poster on the ground right in front of us.

“Look over here!” Doll yelled and she gestured at a large group of people. “This is our chance to spread the news to a bigger audience.”

“Yes, good idea,” I answered and I called over Beast and Dagger, who were spreading out flyers a little further.

We walked up to the group, but they didn’t seem interested in us. Not even slightly. Their attention was taken by something they were gathered around. A large cage, probably holding something. I couldn’t see what was in it, because of the crowd gathered around it.

“So, what do we do now?” Dagger asked, but I hadn’t got the slightest idea of what to do about this uninterested crowd of people. We couldn’t just leave, it was such a missed chance if we did that.

So I took a deep breath and told my group, “I’ll be the announcer then.” After I said that I squeezed myself past the people, excusing myself while I pushed people aside.

When I’d finally reached the centre of the crowd, I saw what was hiding in the cage. A young boy had been put in the cage. He looked very scrawny and his white-grey hair was rather greasy. The boy stared at the ground with an unpleasant look on his face as snakes crawled onto him.

My breath jolted when I heard the loud noise of whipping. I glanced aside, at an older man who whipped the young boy.

“Come on, show them what you got!” the man yelled at the poor kid. “Stupid snake boy!”

The kid opened his mouth to speak, but something in me said he didn’t want to. So I stepped forward and took the moment of silence for granted.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gents,” I said in my loudest possible voice, like I’d practiced to. “My name is Joker and I have a big announcement to make!”

I heard the man yelling at me while I spoke, but I ignored him completely. I had the attention, which was all I needed. Now I’d only have to sell our circus.

“Over a month a new circus will visit your town,” I announced. “There’ll be fire breathers, animal tamers, knife throwers, trapezes, a dance across a tightrope and much more! If you’re interested to see the Noah’s Ark Circus performing, feel free to come by!”

I felt how my voice took off when a man in the audience yelled, “Yeah, can we see the Snakeman now!”

I swallowed, stepped back and fell against the cage. I shrieked as a fell to the ground and dropped all the flyers when my broken body collapsed against the cage of the snake boy.

“Filthy kid,” the man added angrily.

I looked down at the ground, at my left hand, it was bleeding and scraped from breaking my fall. Now, I realised that even though I had new, clean, fancy clothes and a job to do, people still saw me as the gutter rat I used to be. A filthy nameless kid, without a future.

“What are you saying?” a young, familiar female voice yells. “You can’t talk like that to him! He’s my family, ya know!”

I looked up, seeing how Doll was screaming at the man and Dagger stood behind her to intimidate the man. Beast immediately rushed up to me though. She kneeled down next to me and asked, “Are you okay, Joker?”

I nodded, and I quickly hid my hurt hand with ripped glove behind my back.

Beast smiled at me, stood on her feet and helped me up as well.

The audience was shocked when the next thing happened. I walked up to the old man, the one who owned the snake kid, or stole him away from his parents for as far as I know.

“Say, mister,” I said, loud enough that everyone could hear me. “I don’t think this young man wants to do this.” I gestured at the snake kid, his large yellow eyes stared at me full disbelieve.

The man chuckled angrily as he tried to push me away.

“That’s not his choice, is it?” the man rudely told me before demanding the snake boy to say he liked doing this.

I turned to the kid, kneeled until I was at his height and asked, “Tell me kid, without listening to that old bastard. Do you like doing this, stuck in a cage?”

The kid’s yellow eyes stared at me and his mouth opened.

“Of course he liked it!” the old man yells. “He would be on the streets if it wasn’t for me!”

I shrugged, turning to Beast. “Can you keep the man quiet for a while, Beast?”

She immediately saw to it, wrapping her hand over the man’s mouth. It was followed by the whispers of people; I heard some of them saying we were doing a good job helping the poor boy, while others found us a disgrace to humanity saving a deformed species like him.

“So, kid,” I said and I put my left hand into the cage. “Do you like this cage? This Job?”

The boy looked down at the ground, the look on his face didn’t chance when he said, in a squeaky voice, “I never really liked this cage... says Emily.” He looked at one of the other snakes and in a deeper voice he added, “No, me neither... says Oscar.”

Right after he looked to me, a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “And I don’t like it at all.”

His hand carefully wrapped around mine, and one of the snakes crawled onto me.

“Will you help us, sir? ... Asks Webster.”

I swallowed. He can control snakes? I wondered with my mouth opened from disbelieve.

“Yes,” I said, while nodding. “I... we.” I gestured at Beast, Doll and Dagger gathered behind me. “We’ll find you a more fun and suiting home, outside of a cage.”

The snake carefully crawled back onto its owner before I took my hand out of the cage. I walked up to the man, took the key from his belt.

I put it in the keyhole and carefully opened the cage. After helping the boy on his feet, I wrapped my hand around his bony shoulders. I looked at him as I told the snake boy, “From now on, you may belong to our humble family, if you want.” He nodded. “What’s your name, kid?’

The boy looked at me, his face full on confusion.

“I-I have no name,” he mumbled before turning his eyes to the ground.

I smile, tousling the young boy’s hair.

“Do you want to choose one?”

He shrugged. “What about kid? ... asks Wordsworth.”

“Do you like the name kid?”

He shrugged again.

One of the snakes hissed and the boy said, “You should go with Snake! ... Says Goethe.” The boy looked at me and said, “I agree.”

I nodded, turning to the crowd and picking the scrawny boy – now named Snake – up. I held him in the air, where everyone could see him and his snaky friends.

“From now on,” I started. “This kid will be a free man! Snake will be a boy with choices!”

Chapter 6: Snake Dance

Chapter Text

Snake

The nice sir took me and the snakes with him, to a place where they had build up a few tents. Small ones, just to keep them from the rain at night.

He showed us around and gave us a place to sleep in one of the tents. He explained they were an upcoming, travelling circus. We would be able to stay there, he said he even had a small job for us here, but only if we all agreed on doing it.

“If you’d want to,” he said, crouched down besides us while handing me over a blanket. “I could give you an act, you could go on stage with us and your snakes.”

I shrugged, glanced over at Emily for approval.

I’d like that... She hissed

Oscar joined the conversation: So would I!

I nodded, looking back at the orange haired man.

“We’d like to.”

The man nodded, a nice smile on his face. “You may decide what you want to do; you can do anything going from a dance to having a conversation with the snakes. I don’t mind, as long as you like it.”

I nodded again.

The man walked away, telling us he’d be back later, but we could always go outside if we needed anything. There should be enough people to help us when we’re in need of help.

Nice place, don’t you think? Webster asked, while crawling over the floor.

“Quite,” I whisper.

Don’t lie, you love it! Hissed Emily, who clearly liked a tent better than a cage.

I looked down at her and shrugged.

Wordsworth interrupted my thoughts by suggesting: We should think of an act.

I nodded and said, “Okay.”

I think we should do a dance! Donne suggested, but Oscar disagrees. No, not a dance... we should do something fun, like playing music!

I shook my head. “I’m not singing... Let’s do Donne’s idea.”

Oscar angrily hissed and hid away into a corner.

I lay down on the bed the nice man gave us, immediately getting surrounded by Wilde, Bronte, Donne, Wordsworth, Emily and Keats.

With their warmth surrounding me, I felt save. Safer than ever, so after years of insomnia, I finally fell asleep.

Chapter 7: Three days left...

Chapter Text

Beast

The heavy lifting started three days before the actual live performance. We had to actually build our tent, today... in one day.

It wasn’t such a big tent, but still it had to be put up, together with a second tent for backstage. And chairs, enough for three rows all around, had to be carried inside. Together with all the props for our acts.

It was a lot of heavy lifting all together. Everyone had to help, because there was so much to do. So while Doll, Dagger, Snake and I made sure every chair got inside and was placed in the right spot, Peter, Wendy and a few of the other performers made sure the props which already had to be placed on stage – like the tightrope and such – were put down. Joker and the rest of the performers had been building up all tents this morning, really early, and were now dragging the props backstage.

“Do you need any help, Beast?” Dagger asked me with a large grin on his face. I was carrying four chairs inside at the same time, but it wasn’t really as heavy as it looked. Dagger, who only was carrying one chair, apparently thought a lady could use some help.

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

We both put down our chairs in the place where they should be placed. I stared at the rows of chairs that had already been placed. Many, many chairs.

“What?” Dagger asked, I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

I shrugged and glanced at him.

Everything was leading up to this grant performance. Everyone looked like they were ready for it; Dagger dyed most of his hair blonde, Doll had been fitting different wigs, Snake had been walking around with his snakes all the time, Joker had been practicing how to walk on heels and I... I’d been spending most of my time with the animals, finding a way to “tame” them.

“It’s just all...” I stammered, looking back at the chairs. “It’d be creepy if so many people would actually come to our show... wouldn’t you think?”

Everyone had been practicing their acts; everyone knew their acts by heart. But what if so many people would come to see us... what if we messed up?

“Of course,” Dagger replied. “It’d be terrifying, but we can all do this. Especially you, you’ll be amazing even if the animals don’t listen to you on stage.”

I chuckled, glancing at Dagger. His face was as red as a rose and there was a large grin on his face.

“Thank you,” I said and I smiled at him, making him turn even redder.

Dagger thanked me, but quickly said we had a few more chairs waiting to be brought inside. I nodded, he was right; we shouldn’t be sauntering. Not so soon before the big show.

As Dagger walked away, I turned around and said, “Hey! Dagger!”

He turned around. “Huh?”

“I bet you’ll be amazing too,” I told him. “But please don’t mess up, we don’t want to lose any performers on stage.” I winked and an awkward smile appeared on Dagger’s face.

“I’ll be great,” he said and as he eyes met mine, he added, “But only if you promise you’ll be watching.”

I nodded.

“I Promise.”

Chapter 8: Perform!

Chapter Text

Joker

Calm down!

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I stared at myself in the mirror. It was the big day, the grand show.

A big amount make-up was hiding the black circles under my eyes, I hadn’t slept in days. I never thought I would be this nervous.

But here I was, telling myself to be calm... to keep breathing. This, five minutes before going on stage. I could already hear the talking of people in the distance.

“It’s your time to shine,” Beast’s voice said.

I turned around to see the group, my family, standing there.

Doll walked up to me and gave me a quick hug, within a few seconds everyone had joined in. Beast, Dagger, Jumbo, Wendy, Peter, Doll, they were all hugging me. Even Snake and his snakes had stepped closer to give me a hug.

“It’s show time,” I mumbled, while I walked closer to the stage.

I could see the people, not many, but still more than I’d ever seen. They’d all gathered here to see us perform.

All I had to do, was make a great start.

I look behind me, at my small and broken and scraped together family. They were sure I could this, and if they believed I could do this. I would.

I made my entrance, running to the middle of the stage. Spotlights now shining on me. I spread my arms wide and yelled, “Ladies and gentleman!”

People whispered.

Was I loud enough? Or too loud?

“Boys and girls of all ages?”

Could they even understand me? Or was I talking in such an accent no one heard what I said.

“Welcome to the Noah’s Ark Circus!”

Oh, no! I was turning red, and my voice was already getting hoarse from the yelling. I knew I was nervous... But not this nervous.

What was my text again? What did I do at this part of my act?

“I’m Joker,” I said, while throwing the balls in the air. “this evening’s ringleader.”

Just breathe in... Juggle your balls... and shit!

All at once, I dropped my balls. Unintended.

People laughed, I’d fucked up. There wouldn’t be any use in continuing, the people would only be laughing at how bad everything was.

They still saw us as the weak kids who had been living on the street. I still was weak at this moment, even with two arms I couldn’t even juggle a few balls for long enough.

But as I turned around to walk off stage, I saw them standing there. My fellow performers, my family... telling me to continue. Doll stuck her thumbs up and Beast mouthed “you’re doing great”.

So I turned around. Complete silence.

I closed my eyes, bowed forward. I breathed in, and out and continued. For the sake of my fellow performers, for my friends, my family... for the circus!

“A pleasure to meet you, it is!”

All I had to do was continue, talk my way out of this mess.

“Tonight you’re sure to see performances that’ll stun and amaze you! It’ll leave you breathless!”

I got upright, looked at the audience. To my surprise, they seemed to be loving it!

A smile appeared on my face as I said, “And now with the great blow from our very own fire-breathing Jumbo, the greatest show of the century begins!”

As Jumbo blew his fire across the room, amazing the audience, I ran off stage. And the only thing I could think when I heard the people applauding and cheering was: I actually did it!

Our show had began.

And I knew, our circus would be known in all of England. Noah’s Ark Circus would be the greatest circus of the century!

The end.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: VIII

Like wolves we've run wild

Let passion get too much

And let ourselves get burned by the fire

We're walking on wire

But nothing feels higher

Then when I see that look in your eyes

Small Talk, Niall Horan

A/N: here she is!! another part!! you’re probably used to this now, but part 8 got a little long, and will continue in a part 9 but honestly!! who cares!! it just means more vampirerry for all of us 😌 here we deep dive into a few more dates with a dash of some good ole jealousy!! love to see it love to hear it!! and andrea and i would just like to say THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED IN THE 1D CRAFT AWARDS!!!! we cannot believe ysijwa was even nominated, let alone that it won most unique!!! as a thank you, we’re doing a livestream this sunday!! you can send in questions, we’ll discuss the story, and just have a lil chat so please tune in!! details can be found here!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep writing and updating!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!

ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist :  ysijwa playlist II

word count: 30k

content/warnings: confessions of an immortal shopaholic, blair waldorf dark au, the glamorization of the sugar baby lifestyle, harry not understanding the concept of sharing, y/n “eat the rich” y/l/n, harry the walking rosetta stone (tw: google translate), an italian chef (and psychic) who will also adopt someone before dessert is served, A Cinderella Story 6: Fifty Shades of Gucci Grey (rated R), an internal monologue of john mulaney’s “now we don’t have time to unpack all THAT!!!”, and a definitive guide on how to get rid of unnecessary parts of an outfit

Harry is aware that he has a taste for excess. 

He wasn’t always like this, truly.  When he was human, everything about his life had been thoroughly middle class.  He was apprenticed to his father, the town’s blacksmith, and spent the majority of his life living in modesty.  He wore plain clothes that had been sewn by his mother with the cheapest and most durable material she could find.  He spent most of his days at the forge, or dutifully completing chores at home.  He prayed quietly in church, took only the bare minimum of what he needed from anything, and, for the most part, kept his head down.  He’d lived his life with no fancies, no frills, and no fun, in the hopes that all his humble modesty would serve him well in his next life. 

And then he ended up eternally damned, so a fat lot of good that suffering had done him.  All he got from following such a plain mode of life was intimacy issues, a newfound bloodlust, and a broken neck. Therefore, when it came to his afterlife, Harry decided to try a different route. 

And that route, lucky for him, always seems to lead him back to Gucci. 

Harry’s tried a lot of styles and a lot of designers in his two hundred and some years of life, but he’s yet to find anything that speaks to him like Gucci does.  Whether it’s a leather wallet, a blue velvet suit, a sheer pussy bow shirt, or a silk neck scarf; if it has the Gucci label stamped on it, Harry probably owns it. 

Whenever he steps foot in the store, sales associates flock to him, knowing that he’ll drop at least five thousand in one visit.  Harry knows he should feel a tad guilty, but frankly, he thinks he’s earned it— more so than those billionaires he compels into making monthly donations to the “charity funds,” also known as his bank account. 

His methods, however, do bring him a bit of flack from his friends.  While Mitch normally does everything with Harry, the laid back and neutrally good-aligned vampire can only spend so much time in a high-end boutique before claiming that he’s “choking on the cologne of the entitled.” Niall, on the other hand, doesn’t let his teasing nature stop him from joining Harry, but Niall’s affinity for polyester usually stops Harry from allowing him inside the store.  And Xander is a non-starter— the last time Harry tried to bring him, the vampire had spent the entire time cracking scathing jokes about Harry being a sugar baby, to which Harry responded with a comment about Xander being jealous of the salesman fitting Harry.  That little argument turned into a three day battle of neither speaking to the other, and had only been settled when they each agreed that the other deserved to lose an eyebrow for what was said.  

Harry could recount more instances of friction caused by his shopping habits, but needless to say, he either frequents the shopping district of Los Angeles by himself, or with Adam, who is wonderfully indifferent to Harry’s methods of obtaining pocket change, as well as how he spends said pocket change, and possesses the bonus trait of having an eye for beautifully tailored trousers. 

It’s Adam who is by Harry’s side as he walks into the Gucci store for the third time in two weeks, his disinterested expression nearly eclipsed by the confident smirk that adorns Harry’s ruby lips. 

It’s almost like they have a censor for him, Harry thinks smugly, as the associates begin to whisper to each other at the sight of him.  Even if he didn’t absolutely love the brand, Harry would come to Gucci just for the boost to his ego. 

Despite having accompanied Harry before, Adam still leans over to his friend, raising a quizzical brow as his eyes scan over the racks of clothing they pass. “Do we have to go to the counter, or—?”

“Oh, I never have to go to the counter.” Harry chuckles lightly, brushing his icy fingers over a smooth silk shirt styled on a mannequin. “They—”

“Mr. Styles!”

The egotistical simper on Harry’s lips grows, and he shoots Adam a smug look before turning around. “They come to me.”

“Mr. Styles, it’s so nice to see you again.” Mr. Koffman, the manager of this particular location, stops in front of Harry after a brisk walk over, fixing the fit of his suit jacket before extending his hand to Harry and Adam. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” Harry shakes his hand once, enjoying the usual look of bemusement that flashes through the human man’s eyes at his strong grip and cool skin. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just fine.” He replies, shaking Adam’s hand once without moving his attention from Harry. “We’re thrilled to have you back so soon.  I understand we have a suit in the works for you?”

Adam rolls his eyes the moment Mr. Koffman turns away from him, turning his attention to the rack of jackets to the left and running his fingers over the material. 

“Yeah, I got the call this morning to come pick it up.” Harry pauses, giving Adam a sideways glance as his grin grows. “But I was wondering if I could do one last fitting, just to make sure everything’s set…?”

“Oh, uh—” Harry enjoys the frayed tone that echoes from the manager’s mouth as he begins to scramble, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, but we have another appointment coming in fifteen minutes, and—”

Harry sighs in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue as he gives a slight nod. “Ah.  I see.” He sighs again and lifts his shoulders in a small shrug, glancing at Adam from the corner of his eye.  The other vampire is watching him with a half-amused, half-exasperated expression, and it takes all of Harry’s willpower to bite back a laugh. 

The light sheen of nervous sweat on Mr. Koffman’s brow begins to drip down his temple. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Styles—”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Harry waves off the apology with an unconcerned air, glancing at his own statement watch and sighing again. “If you could just have my suit sent down to the Gucci location on Rodeo, I’d really appreciate it— I know they’ll be able to squeeze me in for a last minute fitting.” Harry smiles at Koffman, whose face fades a shade paler as the creature gestures to his friend. “C’mon, Adam.”

“No, no, there won’t be any need for that!” Mr. Koffman says quickly, checking his watch again as his hand reaches for the handkerchief in his suit pocket.  He dabs at his moist forehead while forcing a smile at Harry, who gives an easygoing smile back. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Koffman, really— if you’re unable to make some room for me, I’m sure they’ll be happy to—”

“You’ve been a wonderful and loyal customer to us, Mr. Styles— we’d be more than happy to make room for you.” The human smiles again, the action more strained than before as he tucks his handkerchief away and clasps his hands in front of him. “Just— Just give me one moment to arrange it with alterations, and move some things around.  Please, feel free to browse,” He gestures to the racks of clothing around them. “And I’ll be back in a few minutes once we have everything ready for you.”

Harry hums in the back of his throat, faking hesitation as he replies in a slow voice. “Well...if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble…”

“No trouble at all.  Not for you.” Koffman, to his credit, manages to make the response sound natural before scurrying away, already dialing a number on his phone as he speed-climbs the staircase leading to the alterations department. 

The laugh Harry’s been choking on for the last three minutes escapes the moment the human disappears, echoing off the marble walls around them as Harry turns to Adam with a glint in his eye. 

Adam, on the other hand, looks less entertained and more annoyed. “Was that really necessary?” He asks in a bored tone, crossing his arms as his eyebrows raise in question. “Why do you need to try the suit on?  You had, like, three fittings.  It’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I want to make sure it’s perfect before I take it home— I’m spending way too much money for it to possibly be defective.  And I want you to see it in all the glory of the mirrored Gucci fitting room.” Harry pats his friend’s shoulder as he steps past him, his attention captured by a pair of red leather and snakeskin boots sitting on a pedestal in the corner. 

Adam snorts once, short and harsh. “Were those the only reasons, Mr. Styles?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Harry drags a finger over the embroidered side of the boots, his cherry lips rising at the corners. “I do enjoy making Koffman squirm.  He’s so easily bothered by the littlest of things; it’s like an open invitation to cause some trouble.”

“Y’know, if I didn’t know what you really were,” Adam laughs once in spite of himself, shaking his head in disbelief while checking out a pair of plaid trousers. “I’d think you were the devil.” 

Harry’s smile twists into something more sinister as he fiddles with his gold cross, twisting the pendant under the overhead lighting so it glints symbolically in Adam’s eye. “It’s a good thing I’m not, hm?  I’d be unstoppable.”

“We’d all be doomed, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, absolutely. But world-domination aside, everyone knows the devil wears Prada, not Gucci. Get it together, Prendergast.” 

The clicking of dress shoes against the marble steps alert Harry to Koffman’s return before his sputtering heartbeat does, and the vampire turns his head just in time to see him descend down the spiral staircase. 

“Good news, Mr. Styles!” He beams at Harry as he steps off the last platform, nearly tripping over his feet in his effort to get to his client. “I was able to talk to the girls, rearrange some appointments, and we’ll be able to do a final fitting for you.”

“That’s wonderful t’hear, Mr. Koffman.” Harry tucks his cross back beneath his shirt with a pleased grin, catching Adam’s eye over the mortal’s shoulder. “I wasn’t fancying the drive to Rodeo.”

“I wouldn’t either, sir.” Koffman nods solemnly, gesturing to the stairs with a stubby hand. “But we’re always glad to make accommodations for you here.”

And isn’t that the truth, Harry thinks as he makes his way upstairs, Adam hot on his heels as Koffman leads the two of them to the alterations department.  Part of the reason why Gucci— and this location, if Harry’s honest— holds such a place in his unbeating heart is because it reminds him of an era long gone.  When Harry steps through the gold archways of the store, he instantly transforms into a person worth noting, and is waited on as if he were a lord in Victorian England who was set to inherit twenty thousand pounds.  Now, of course, Harry could drop the equivalent of twenty thousand pounds in one shopping trip, but it was a large sum of money back then, when Harry could only dream of such wealth. 

Now, the immortal’s reality involves him being waited on the moment he enters the alteration department, with one attendant handing him a glass of champagne as another shows him a display of accessories to match his custom suit, which hangs proudly inside a garment bag on the wall.  Adam, for all his eyerolls, still accepts the complimentary champagne and appraises the accessories right along with Harry, who gets a chance to roll his own eyes as an attendant named Mara convinces him to try on a platinum watch.

“Would you like to try one as well, Mr. Styles?” The other attendant, Blair— Harry’s favourite consultant at the store, truth be told— bats her eyes at him as she taps a finger over the Rolex already adorning Harry’s wrist. “Could be nice to switch it up, no?”

Harry offers a polite smile as he readjusts the band of the watch on his arm, tutting in reply. “I’m afraid I’m rather attached to the Rolex brand for my watches, Blair.” He sighs before nodding his head at Adam, who’s become enamoured with the platinum band on his wrist. “Best to focus your energy on that one, I think.  He’ll make you some easy commission.”

“It’s not about commission, Mr. Styles, it’s about finding you something you’ll love.” Blair pouts as she leads him behind the dressing room curtain, her lithe fingers unzipping the garment bag covering his suit with one swift motion. “I thought you’d know me well enough by now to know you’re much more than commission to me.”

The smile on Harry’s face only falters for one second, the flicker going unnoticed by the employee as she carefully removes the suit from the bag.  The last time Harry had been here for a fitting, she hadn’t been working— he remembers because the new attendant they’d sent to deal with him had nearly zipped his suit into the garment bag when the fitting was over.  It had been Blair, however, who had originally measured him for the suit, and Harry remembers her wandering fingers that paused at his inseam a moment longer than needed, how she had showered Harry with praise as he modeled the sample suit.  It had done him good then as he strutted around the alterations department, flexing underneath the chandelier light as she’d complimented his every pose, but that had been nearly two months ago.  Moreover, it had been two brunches, four dinners, three walks, and an antiquing trip ago.  A lifetime ago, really.

“That’s very kind of you, Blair.” Harry finally manages to respond, his fingers pausing at the buttons of his shirt as she hangs the separate parts of the suit on their own hangers. “I’d trust no one else with a suit this expensive, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” A light giggle escapes the girl as she hangs the jacket on the wall, stepping back and admiring the pieces with a keen eye. “I’m glad you decided to go with the light grey fabric; it’ll compliment your eyes so nicely.” When she turns back around, Harry doesn’t miss how the same keen eye skirts over the half unbuttoned fabric covering his torso. “I’ll give you a moment to slip everything on.  If you need anything…” The girl tugs the curtain back just enough to let herself out, her pink lips tugging into a simper. “Just call for me.”

Harry’s smile grows tighter as the curtain closes behind her, and disappears the moment he’s out of her sight.  He’d forgotten, really, the effect he has on most mortals.  It had been something he’d paid close attention to before, delighting in how they all unknowingly stroked his ego as their jaws dropped whenever he’d walked by.  In a way, it’s nice to know that he’s still capable of that— he’s still a narcissist, after all— but it’s a little less satisfying when he’s grown so used to that careful attention from Y/N.  When it comes to stroking, he thinks shrewdly, a smirk slowly crawling onto his face as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, there’s no one better than her. 

Once he’s stripped completely, he dresses in the custom suit, pulling the crisp fabric along his muscled limbs and tugging it into place.  He starts with the silk black shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning the two sides together, excluding the top three holes.  After that, he steps into the grey trousers, tucking the shirt in and taking a moment to admire the black stripe that runs down the inseam of the pants, which— to Blair’s credit— hug his thighs perfectly.  Once he’s satisfied with the lay of the article, he slips the suit jacket overtop, adjusting the sleeves over the dress shirt as he fiddles with the cuffs.

“Now, don’t worry about the cufflinks with the suit, Mr. Styles,” Blair calls through the curtain, her voice grating across Harry’s admiration with an irritating cadence as she seems to predict his need. “They’re just some samples given by the store.  I’ve personally selected some more appropriate pairs that match your style much better.”

When Harry tugs back the curtain, Adam has shifted himself to the plush velvet couch in the middle of the room, his champagne glass already refilled as he slouches back against the cushions.  Mara, it seems, has disappeared from the fitting room, but Blair is standing just to the side, next to a table lined with gold accessories for Harry to try.

“Well?” Harry asks, stepping to the platform that sits in front of the mirrored wall, his jeweled hands tugging at the starched lapel of the jacket.  He regards himself in the mirror for a moment, admiring the fit across his sturdy shoulders, before rotating around to face the vampire and mortal. “What do you think, Adam?”

Adam takes a long sip of his champagne, mulling over his reply for so long that it sparks irritation in Harry’s stomach, which is only soothed by his long awaited comment. “It looks good.” He nods, squinting his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. “A little plain, compared to what you normally wear, but it’s nice.”

“I don’t know if it’s proper to call this plain.” Blair scoffs, looping the tape measure in her hands around her neck as she approaches Harry, her heels clicking against the lacquered floor. “Mr. Styles usually has a preference for something more patterned, true, but there’s something to be said for a sleek, simple suit.” Harry watches the way her eyes flicker down his body, pausing at his inseam with a look that’s less than professional. “And that black stripe along the inside of the pant certainly...draws the eye, does it not?”

Although her words are laced with implications, Harry directs a smirk at Adam as he rakes a hand through his curled locks. “It’s alright, Blair.  Adam’s right, it is a little plain compared to what I normally wear, but every man needs a nicely tailored formal suit in his closet.”

“Exactly.” Blair nods in earnest response as she begins to circle Harry, her detail oriented eyes sweeping over every aspect of the suit.  In the reflection of the mirror, Harry catches the way her eyes settle over the fit of his backside, her heartbeat increasing for just a moment until Harry clears his throat.

“The cufflinks, love?” Harry prompts, raising his arms as he begins to fiddle with the cuffs. “These sample ones are horrid.  You said something about gold…?”

The attendant snaps from her objectifying stupor, her eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror as a light blush settles over her cheeks. “Yes, I, um, picked some out for you here.” Her heels click again as she retrieves the velvet lined tray that’s studded with jewelry, bringing it to Harry for him to examine. “We have a few variations of the Gucci logo— interlocking G’s, some embossed onto gold coins— but I think this pair we just got in might be to your liking.”

Harry reaches for the cufflinks Blair points to, pinching one between his fingers and lifting it close to his eye to examine it.  It’s a pair of interlocking G’s, but instead of a smooth finish similar to the other pairs before him, these have textured engravings all around the letters.  It takes Harry a moment to realize that the engravings are scales, and the G’s are actually—

“They’re engraved to look like snakes, with black Swarovski crystal eyes.” Blair begins her infomercial-like spiel, holding up the other cufflink for her own examination. “They’re 18K gold with an aged finish, and the attention to detail is just extraordinary.  Even the back is engraved with an Arabesque motif.” She twists the cufflink around in her fingers as Harry does the same, examining the engraving with an approving nod.

“They’re lovely.” Harry murmurs, wrapping his fist around the cufflink to secure it before removing the sample cufflink from his own sleeve.  With one swift motion, he’s swapped one piece of gold hardware for another, fiddling with the fit of the sleeve as he sets the new cufflink amongst the fabric. “S’a nice fit, I think.”

“It’s a wonderful fit.” Before he can reach for the other cufflink, Blair snags his sleeve in her grasp, replacing the sample in a motion nearly as swift as Harry’s. “Beautiful, really.  It’s such an understated suit, which works to its advantage, but the pop of gold on the cuffs will really make everything stand out so much more.”

Harry nods seriously, a pensive look on his face as he examines the sleeves once more before raising his arms. “What d’you think, Adam?  Look alright?”

Adam offers a passive nod as he becomes distracted by the rack of watches again, his fingers draping over another platinum band. “Looks good, man.  But you know that.”

“I know.” Harry flashes a blinding smile at his friend, dropping one emerald eye into a wink as he fiddles with the cufflinks. “But I like hearing you say it.”

“It really is a perfect fit, Mr. Styles.” Blair nearly coos the words as she circles him again, her careful fingers tugging and adjusting the lines of the suit just enough that it can be considered appropriate for her job.  “Gorgeous.  The best we’ve done, I think.” Her fingers dance over his lapel as she adjusts the fall of his open neckline, and a flash of warning ignites in Harry’s stomach as her skin grazes the ink of Harry’s chest. “But the suit is only doing half the work, you know.  The rest is all—” Her touch travels up the lapel and across his shoulder, her body taking a step behind his own as her touch settles on the nape of his neck. “You.”

Although her skin barely brushes the back of his neck, the pin-prick touch bursts into a shudder that paralyzes Harry’s entire body, tensing his every limb.  When it releases, his frame spasms one single time in reflex, yanking itself away from the human’s touch.

The shudder doesn’t go unnoticed by Blair or Adam, although each has their own response based on what they know of Harry.  As his jade eyes harden to stone, Harry catches the cautious movements of Adam, who is slowly pulling himself into a tense and careful posture in the corner of Harry’s eye.  Blair, on the other hand, is merely frozen with her hand still hanging in midair, a confused and bewildered expression painted onto her features.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Styles?” She questions, her self-preservation betraying her as she takes another step forward with her outstretched fingers once again reaching for Harry’s shoulder. “Is something in the suit bothering you?”

Harry gives a rough shake of his head as he leans back from her touch once again, forcing himself to take a deep breath through his nose to collect himself.  When he speaks, his voice is low, raspy, and filled with a quiet fury that exceeds the intensity that would accompany a scream. “I think I’ve mentioned before,” He enunciates each word clearly, his delivery cold in every aspect. “I prefer not to be touched there.”

Despite the tense undercurrent of Harry’s voice, Blair’s expression relaxes once she realizes the cause of it. “My apologies.  I was just trying to adjust the fit.” When she places her hand on Harry’s elbow and tugs at the sleeve, her brow creases at the taut joint, but her voice remains as smooth and slick as ever. “I’ll make sure to keep my hands to myself— or at least, wait for your direction on where to put them.”

The smile that curves over her lips begins to fall as Harry’s face stays as stony as ever, his own mouth dragged down into a frown as the implications of her words settle around him.  Part of him wants to snap right there, to give into the instinct to bare his teeth, swell his chest, and show this emboldened employee what she’s really touching, but Adam’s eyes over her shoulder urge him not to. 

His friend knows how sensitive Harry can get when his guard is at full throttle, especially when that issue stems from anything vaguely related to that particularly haunted place the young woman had carelessly touched. Watch it, Adam’s gaze seems to say as he shakes his head just enough for Harry to notice.  It was an accident. You’re fine. 

Harry inhales deeply once again, grounding himself in his human persona with each rise and fall of his chest. “That would be wise, I think.” He finally responds, straightening his back and turning to face himself in the mirror once again. “Just be a bit more careful.”

It seems that Blair has finally gotten the hint, because every touch of her fingers over him for the rest of the fitting is calculated and precise.  Her hands do drift a little further on his body than what’s necessary, but she makes sure she doesn’t graze against his icy bare skin again.  What Harry finds most curious, however, is that every swipe of her fingers against the fabric grates on what seems to be his last nerve.

They’ve played this cat and mouse game before, always teasing, always touching, and just barely staying out of reach.  But it seems Harry has gotten too lax in his ways, he thinks, as his cold eyes watch the movements of the girl in the mirror, because she’s never been this blatant before, especially in front of another customer.  Does she actually think something could happen between the two of them?  Does she really believe that Harry would drag her behind the curtained partition, meticulously remove the suit he’s just paid thousands for, and trace his own fingers over her supple flesh as if he’s fitting her for himself?

The thought nearly pulls a ridiculing laugh from Harry’s chest, but that laugh is replaced with a pondering thought that irks Harry the moment it flickers into his mind.  He could do that, yes.  He’s certainly done worse, and Blair can probably sense that.  If Harry were in her position, of being the mouse that believes it’s the cat, he would probably think that something was going to come out of all their chasing eventually.  And why hasn’t it?

The answer, of course, comes to Harry a moment after the question does.  Even though Blair is, by society’s standards, objectively attractive, and obviously willing to follow any direction he gives her, Harry is smart enough to not draw attention to himself by hooking up and feeding from a consultant that works at his favourite store.  It had been Niall, he thinks, who summed up a simple yet effective rule wonderfully for him once: Don’t shit where you eat.  Plain and simple.  

But there’s a second answer that grinds at the back of Harry’s mind, festering inside every thought as Blair makes final adjustments, blathers on about accessories and additions, and tries to raise her commission by once again showing Harry watches.  Harry doesn’t want Blair, because Harry has Y/N.  Being touched by Blair feels wrong because Harry’s so used to being touched by Y/N.  And Blair grazing over his neck bothered him so much because he can, apparently, only stand someone’s fingers grazing there if Y/N is the one doing it.

And perhaps festering isn’t the right word, Harry muses, because the warmth that’s spreading through him with that realization feels a lot more like blossoming than anything else.  It flowers within him, lavender weaving through every limb, letting him know that maybe— just maybe— he’s not as selfish as he thinks.  He could be a complete monster, and fabricate a relationship for Y/N while still pursuing other people, but he has, at the very least, one shred of decency hidden within him.  Although he indulges his base desires whenever he’s with her, he at least has the power to resist one of them.

With that in mind, Harry finds it easier to pay less mind to Blair’s lingering touches and sly compliments, and instead focuses on cherry-picking the suggestions he wants to take from her.

“Y’think I should change the shoes, then?” Harry steps down from the platform, drifting closer to the full length mirrors to examine the black leather loafers adorning his feet. “Something more colourful?”

“Not necessarily colourful, no— after all, we’ve worked hard to create a cohesive look.  We wouldn’t want to interrupt that with a sudden burst of fuschia.” Blair laughs once, brushing her hair behind her ears as she hums in consideration. “But something with a bit of gold, maybe?  To match the cufflinks?  We could add some gold hardware to those loafers, or just find a new pair for you…”

“New is always better.” Adam chimes in from the couch, tilting his half full glass to Harry with a wry smile. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Styles?”

Harry points a ringed finger at him, winking once in confirmation. “Right you are, Mr. Prendergast.” He begins scanning the room, his eyes catching every pair of shoes displayed and comparing them in his mind. “Do you have some selections we could look at, Blair?”

“If you give me a few moments, I could certainly run to the back and pull some—”

As Harry’s keen eyes settle onto a pair of boots on display in the corner of the room, he raises a hand, cutting the girl off in one swift motion. “That may not be necessary.” He murmurs, walking over to the pedestal and examining the newest object of his fascination.

The boots are made of matte leather with polished snakeskin over the toes of the shoes, both fabrics shining the darkest black Harry has ever seen.  The leg of the boot is relatively short, and would probably only come to Harry’s ankle, with a black heel that would add an inch or two to Harry’s already tall frame.  But the pièce de résistance that draws Harry’s eye the moment he sees them are the embroidered gold dragons that adorn the outer sides of each boot, their bodies coiled in such a way that Harry almost swears he can see them breathing. 

He slides one finger around the toe of the boot, nearly shivering in how pleasurable the silky surface feels against his skin. “How much?” He mumbles the phrase with a reverent look in his eyes, his voice as delicate as his touch.

Blair’s smile twists into one of apology as words Harry has never heard from her before fall from her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, but those are actually a custom order for another client.  They’re not for sale.”

Harry hums low in his throat, his fingertips dancing over the gold embroidery. “I’ll add another thousand onto whatever they’re paying.” He says, earning a breath of hesitation from Blair and a sigh of exhaustion from Adam.

“Christ, Harry,” The latter groans, rubbing his eyes in a frustrated manner at Harry’s familiar antics. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at sharing?  Did you skip that part of kindergarten?”

“Kindergarten wasn’t really a thing where I grew up.” Harry reminds his friend, shrugging indifferently before turning his attention back to the torn consultant. “So?  Another thousand?  I think that adds on quite a nice percentage of commission for you, doesn’t it?”

“I— Mr. Styles, I’m not really sure if—” Blair stutters over her words as she quickly strides over to him, the clicking of her heels against the marble floor punctuating each pound of her heart in her chest. “I don’t really think we can do that.”

A short laugh echoes from Harry’s ruby lips as a grin dimples his cheeks, the humour of her words apparent only to him. “You know I don’t take no for an answer, Blair.” He raises his eyes to hers and locks their gazes, lowering his voice to a smooth and convincing octave, pupils dilating as supernatural magic flows into his irises.  When her own eyes respond the same, her face falling slack for just a moment, Harry knows he’s alright to continue. “You didn’t answer my question.  How much?”

“Just under four thousand.” The consultant replies immediately as the compulsion settles into her brain. “They would be around five if you wanted to add on the thousand you mentioned before.”

The smile on his face twists into something more conceited, and Harry steps back from the boots with a satisfied sigh. “I’ll take them, then.” Confidence weaves itself through his voice as he meticulously removes the suit jacket from his body. “Call Mara to wrap them up, won’t you?  While I’m changing, I’ll need you to start pulling some more selections for me.”

Blair blinks the compulsion from her eyes as Harry’s stare dips from hers, her tone thick with confusion as she sleepily takes the jacket from Harry’s hands. “More selections, Mr. Styles?  Of what?”

“Yeah, Harry.” Adam’s words are tinged with trepidation as he subtly checks the time on the watch now hanging off his wrist. “Of what?”

“Cocktail dresses, I think.  Although I’m not opposed to a cute little romper, as long as it has a bit of sparkle and shows off some leg.” Harry says thoughtfully, rubbing over his pillowy lips as he ponders the thought. “But I think a cocktail dress would work best.  Black, maybe.  To keep it classy, but not too classy.” He says, shooting a wicked grin at Blair. “I’d like to see a bit of skin.”

“I’m— I’m sorry,” The befuddlement in the human girl’s voice finally begins to clear up, leaving curiosity-tinged jealousy in its place. “What sort of event is this outfit for?”

Harry’s loafers echo around the marble room as he makes his way back to the changing area, a plan already forming in his head as he speaks. “A dinner.  Semi-formal, so no floor length gowns or anything like that.  Maybe bring some matching heels as well, although...” Harry pauses with the changing curtain clutched tight in his hand. “I think a quick trip to Christian Louboutin down the street may yield better results in that department.”

“Quick trip,” Adam quotes scornfully, downing the rest of his champagne and setting the glass down on the gold side table with a groan. “That’s what this was supposed to be, H, and we’ve been here for an hour!  We were supposed to pick up your suit, and then head back to Niall’s for the barbecue—”

“So text Niall and tell him we’re running behind; he certainly has no problem doing that to us.” A snort sounds deep in Harry’s throat as Blair walks to the ornate desk in the back of the room and picks up the gold-plated rotary phone, dialing a short number with practiced speed. “And, with the amount of times he’s complained to me about my lack of punctuality, he should be used to it by now.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a groan. “Fine.” He relents, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “But you’re buying me this watch as payment.” 

“Fine.” Harry shrugs as he echoes the word, his voice casual and without a care as he slips behind the curtain and finishes undressing.  

Once he’s hung the suit back up on its hangers and redressed in his normal clothing, he retracts the plush curtain once more to find an annoyed Adam hanging up the phone, his newly purchased boots gone from the pedestal, and the heavy gold accessories that had been picked out for Harry being swapped for finer and daintier pieces.

Harry begins to examine the gold chains, humming in thought over the delicate pendants that swing from them. “How’d Niall take it?” He tosses the question to Adam over his shoulder, not particularly concerned about the answer.

“He told me to call you a wanker and rip off your ear, so,” Adam tucks his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head at the Irishman’s harsh words. “About as well as you’d expect.”

Another hum vibrates through Harry’s throat as he sets a mental note to make amends with his friend at a later date. “So do you want to rip off my right ear, or my left?  I have to admit, my left is my prettier ear, so I’d be appreciative if you left that one alone.”

The laugh that leaves Adam is so genuine that Harry knows he can’t be too annoyed at him.  When his friend joins him in overlooking the jewelry, Harry offers him an airy smile in return, pointing out a detail in one of the pendants to Adam’s interested gaze.

“Explain something to me.” Adam starts after a moment, his own hands grazing over a diamond bracelet. “Why go to all this trouble?  A dress, shoes, accessories… what’s the point?”

If it were any of his other friends asking the question, Harry would take a defensive response, spouting off a justified reply about how he looks so good in the suit that it needs to be seen, and that he can’t wear it and have Y/N not match him in clothing that’s sufficiently up to par.  But Adam’s eyes, albeit frustrated at times, have always been kind, and contain a depth of clarity that Harry can’t resist. He’s always been the most level-headed of the group, second only to Mitch, so the monster always feels safe trusting him with his innermost thoughts. 

“S’nice, I suppose.” Harry replies with as casual a tone as he can allow, lifting his shoulder as the sound of a rolling cart heavy with clothing pricks his ears from down the hall. “I’m taking something from Y/N, so… it makes me feel nice to give her something in return, y’know?  Makes me feel a little less guilty, at least, if she’s having a good time.”

Although Adam’s eyebrows raise at the mention of guilt, he makes no other comment on the surprisingly candid confession from his friend. “I get that.” He says slowly, settling down the gold necklace in his hand with a gentle touch. “I’m surprised you get it, but I get it.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry huffs as Blair rounds the corner and enters the room with a rack laden with black garment bags. “Don’t tell Niall I said that, alright?  He’ll never let me hear the end of it, and if he thinks I’m going soft— which I’m not—” Harry tacks on quickly. “He’ll start trying to fuck with me, and then I’ll have to rip off his ear, and it’ll be a whole thing.”

“My lips are sealed, man.” Adam laughs, gesturing over his shoulder to the clothing cart. “Shall we pick a dress for the lucky lady, then?”

A smirk paints its way onto Harry’s face. “Mhmm.  As long as you’re the one modeling it.”

///

A package arrives the next afternoon.

Like any Saturday when she isn’t working or with Harry, Y/N is home alone, trying to unwind from the previous week’s trials and tribulations.  Although she’s worked customer service jobs at home, working a customer service job in Los Angeles is a whole other demon, and she finds herself more exhausted than she’s ever been more often than she’s not.  It’s probably a good thing, she muses to herself over a cup of tea and her new copy of Sense and Sensibility, that she doesn’t have many friends in L.A., because she wouldn’t have the energy to go out with them anyways.  And honestly, she prefers it that way.  She’s learned to get along with her coworkers enough at her job that she doesn’t feel isolated, and sees Harry enough outside of work that she feels she has a shred of something resembling a social life.  Her quiet afternoons at home by herself are really a godsend, in a way.  They give her an opportunity to recharge to be present enough for social interactions during the week.  Being lonely can be a challenge, yes, but being alone is an entirely different thing, and it’s something that Y/N quite enjoys.

Which is why she’s so confused when her doorbell rings at 2:13 P.M. on a Saturday afternoon.

The moment the sound pricks her ears, Y/N pauses her reading, setting her book down on her lap as she sends a confused look towards the front door.  Her eyes slide to her phone next to her, tapping the screen to make sure she hasn’t missed any messages from anyone.  Harry, surely, would at least text her before showing up unplanned, wouldn’t he?

When her phone screen is found to be predictably blank, and the doorbell rings again, Y/N stumbles her way from her couch to the front door, her chain clanging against the frame as she unlocks it and pulls the door open.

A man she doesn’t know raises an eyebrow at her as she looks up at him, and a spark of fear flickers in her stomach before she realizes he’s wearing a UPS uniform and holding a large brown package in his hands.

“Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, glancing down at the tablet in his hands. 

“Uh— yeah.  Yes, I am.” Y/N replies slowly, tugging the patchwork cardigan she’d stolen from Harry around her frame. “Hi?”

The UPS delivery man gives her a quizzical look. “Hi.” He repeats back to her in a monotone voice, extending the tablet in his hand. “Sign here, please.”

The urge to argue that she wasn’t expecting anything bubbles up in Y/N’s throat, but she tamps it down as she accepts the tablet, using the pen attached to the device to sign her name.  It’s probably from her mother, she thinks, scrawling her signature quickly before handing the tablet back.  Even though L.A. is famously a city without seasons, her mother has probably knit her two new blankets for the winter months, or sweaters, or some other woolen article of clothing that Y/N will have no use for.

The UPS delivery man swaps the tablet in her hand for the package in his, barely sparing Y/N another glance before retreating back down her hallway.  

“Um, thank you!” Y/N calls after him, shifting the surprisingly heavy package in her palms as she nudges the door shut with her socked foot.  

She carries the box to her living room, setting it down on her coffee table before pausing for a moment to double back and relock her front door (although she’s adjusted to living alone, the fear that’s been implanted in her from a young age about living in a big city still has a hold on her).

The box, she discovers upon further examination, has no return address, but it does sound like there’s multiple items inside when shaken.  And then Y/N remembers that she’s an adult, and should probably not be shaking a box when she doesn’t know what sits inside, so she sits back on her couch with a confused pout— until she once again remembers that she’s an adult, and can open a package addressed to herself.

It takes a moment of struggling to tear off the thick tape lining the seam of the box— a moment which would probably have been shorter if Y/N had retrieved a knife from the kitchen, truth be told— but the opening of the package makes the contents no more clear.  When she pulls back the top of the box, she finds sheets of packing tissue paper, which she tosses onto her living room floor without care to reveal the surprises inside.

And what a surprise the black and white box with Gucci stamped on top is.  Nearly as much a surprise as the second larger black and white Gucci box underneath, or the red and black box next to it labeled Christian Louboutin.

Y/N’s not quite sure how long she sits there staring at the packages in shock, but when she finally manages to unfreeze her limbs to take a sip of her tea, the liquid is considerably colder than it had been when she set it down to open the door.  The packages are so unexpected that it takes her a moment to realize that designer boxes typically contain designer items inside them, and maybe unpacking those will bring her greater insight into what the fuck is happening right now.

Of course, that’s not the case.  

Beginning with the smaller Gucci box, Y/N carefully extracts it from the brown container and sets it on her lap, untying the black ribbon encircling it as if she were dismantling a bomb.  When she lifts off the lid to find a matte black leather clutch purse with a gold Gucci emblem as the clasp, she almost thinks that a bomb would be preferable, because surely, there’s been a mistake.  Y/N certainly hasn’t purchased a Gucci clutch for herself, so it’s entirely likely that this was a gift for someone else, and the UPS man had just gotten the address wrong.  Yes, she thinks to herself, ghosting her fingers over the supple leather in shock, that must be it.  It’s a mistake.  And because it’s a mistake, she should back this all up and call UPS to have them fix it.

And then she remembers the UPS man had said her name, and that’s enough motivation to open the Christian Louboutin box next.

Based on the brand, Y/N suspected that the box would reveal a pair of shoes.  It’s still a shock, however, when she finds a pair of black satin heels that shine even in the low light of her apartment, with a satin ribbon death trap of an ankle tie, and signature red lacquered bottoms.

By the time Y/N reaches the third box, she’s moving on autopilot, her fingers robotically untying the black ribbon and lifting the lid without her instructing herself to do so.  The only words she can manage upon seeing the black cocktail dress is a gentle but emotive “What the fuck?”

The dress, she finds as she cautiously lifts it from the box, is made of satin, and is nothing she would ever purchase for herself in a million years.  The neckline dips into a low V, supported by off the shoulder cuffs, and Y/N can already tell by the cut of the fabric that if she were to slip it onto her body, the knee length dress would cling to her form.  And— Y/N shifts the dress into the light as her eyes widen in shock— as if that weren’t enough, there’s a leg slit that runs so high that Y/N flushes at the mere thought of her thigh peaking through.

It’s that detail, coupled with the suspicion that a single item of the package— let alone all three together— costs more than her rent that leads Y/N to the realization that only one person she knows could have sent all of this.

Folding the dress carefully back in the box and setting it to the side, Y/N fumbles to retrieve her phone from where she had left it earlier.  After unlocking it, she flips to her contacts and clicks on the familiar name, raising the device to her ear with a slow motion.

The phone rings four times before Harry’s voicemail crackles through the speaker. “Hi, you’ve reached Harry.  I can’t talk right now, but if you leave a message at the beep, I’ll try to get back to you.” There’s a moment of hesitation in the recording, and Y/N almost thinks she’s missed the beep before Harry’s accented voice returns. “Unless you’re Niall.” 

The expected beep finally sounds, and Y/N swallows hard as she tries to find the words she needs. “Hey, Harry, it’s, um, it’s Y/N.  I just received your package— I mean, I think it’s from you, because I don’t know who else would send me a Gucci dress— which I can’t accept, by the way.  That’s why I’m calling.  So, um,” She sucks in a harsh breath to give pause to her rambling before continuing. “Just— just call me back, alright?  Thanks.”

While Harry is usually attentive to every call and message from Y/N, her voicemail receives no reply, nor does her second phone call, or her third, or the four texts she sends to Harry in between.  By five P.M., she’s given up on hearing back from Harry at all, and is nearly resolved to pack up the box again and march it to Harry’s apartment when his signature sharp rap echoes on her front door.

Despite her frustration at receiving no reply from him, there’s an air of relief running through Y/N as she tightens the cardigan around herself and strides to her front door.  She unlocks it quickly, her greeting already falling from her lips before the door is even open.

“You better have a good reason for ignoring me all afternoon, Harry, because I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out why—”

And then Y/N’s frantic eyes finally settle on the man before her, and the rest of her beration dies before it can leave her throat. 

Harry is leaning casually against her frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest, as usual, and he’s dressed in a grey suit that clings to his body in a way that is so attractive, Y/N didn’t even think it was possible for a man to look this utterly flawless.  The suit fabric looks soft to the touch, more luxurious than anything Y/N could ever dream of, and the black silk shirt that lies underneath looks even softer. The human tries to not let herself focus on the way the shirt is slightly unbuttoned, showing off the inked swallows that decorate Harry’s muscled chest, as well as his usual cross necklace.  However, letting her eyes drift lower proves to be a mistake, as her gaze is immediately drawn to the black stripe that runs down the inseam of Harry’s pant legs, highlighting the muscles of his thighs in a way that makes her mouth water.  Even his shoes, black leather boots embroidered with gold dragons, are attractive in a way that Y/N doesn’t understand.

“Hello, darling.” Harry’s charming voice and dimpled smile pull the girl’s eyes back to his face just in time to see his lips drop into a discouraged frown.

Although Harry is usually greatly fond of seeing Y/N clad in cozy clothes with her hair in a messy ponytail (especially when his own cardigan is part of the ensemble), the look isn’t necessarily welcome at the moment. Yes, she looks adorable in her pastel blue pajama pants with cartoon sheep scattered all over the fabric. And yes, she looks incredibly cute swaddled in an oversized The Nightmare Before Christmas tee along with his patchwork coat. However, given the premise of the plans he’s drawn for tonight, her outfit is far from appropriate. Especially because he’d expected her to be wearing the dress he’d bought her along with the heels and clutch, dishing out a sexy but classy aesthetic rather than the ever-present lonely couch potato one.

He gives her entire body a quick, judgmental sweep, brows cinching. “I— why aren’t you ready?”

The confusion bubbling in Y/N’s mind molds into indignation at his words, albeit a hint of bewilderment lingers. “Ready for what?” Y/N demands, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at Harry expectantly. “I’ve been trying to call you all day about the dress, and you didn’t answer a single time, so I don’t know what—”

“The dress?” Harry’s brow draws together deeper, his easy going demeanor twisting to match Y/N’s within a moment. “Why were you calling about the dress?  Does it not fit?”

Y/N’s mouth gapes open at the question. “I haven’t tried it on, Harry, I—”

“What?  Why not?”

“Because I can’t accept it!” Y/N exclaims, the suffix of obviously unspoken between them. “It’s way too expensive by itself, let alone with the shoes and the purse!”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Harry responds in a slow and careful voice. “Why don’t we step inside, love, and continue discussing this while you get ready, yeah?”

Y/N scoffs at the condescension in his voice, but does as he says, stepping back from the doorway and allowing Harry to walk inside before locking the door behind him. “Ready for what?” She demands again, following Harry’s path down the hallway to the living room. “You still haven’t told me!”

“Christ, Watson, I thought if I sent you a dress and heels, you’d figure it out!” Harry replies with a half-joking sigh, a degree of annoyance beginning to work its way into his tone as he touches the ribbon of one of the Gucci boxes. “You’re losing your touch, huh?”

“Okay, well, apparently I’m a little slow tonight, so fill me in, Sherlock.” Y/N matches Harry’s snippy remark with ease, pinching the bridge of her nose as her head begins to throb in irritation. “What’s going on?  What obvious clue have I missed?”

“I sent you the outfit for you to wear—”

“I figured that much out, thanks.”

Harry’s emerald eyes snap to hers in an exasperated flat glance before continuing. “—to dinner.  I made us a reservation at my favourite Italian place, and I thought that the dress and the shoes would be enough of a hint that I could keep the rest a surprise.” He gathers the ribbon with his fingers again, rubbing the fabric between them as his face drops its usual haughty front. “You really didn’t...you didn’t try it on?  Do you not like it?”

The disappointed hesitation threaded through Harry’s thick accent stops Y/N short, worming its way into her aggravated chest and leaving a spark of guilt behind. When she speaks again, her voice is dulled by genuine warmth, less sharp and pointed and more soothing and grateful. “I...I do like it.  It’s a lovely dress; a little more body-hugging than what I would’ve picked, truthfully, but it’s beautiful.” Y/N offers Harry a soft teasing smile before continuing. “I just...I can’t accept something so expensive from you.”

“Why not?” Harry’s brows re-furrow in sheer confusion as he drops the ribbon from his grip, turning to face her fully. “It’s just a dress, Y/N—”

“It’s a Gucci dress.  And purse.  And Louboutin shoes.” Y/N states with a disbelieving laugh, crossing her arms over her abdomen as she drops her gaze to the rug she’d picked out from IKEA. “It’s too much, Harry.  I know you meant well, but I can never...I could never pay you back for this, or give you something as nice, or…”

A disheartened pout tugs at the corner of Harry’s lips as he registers the mortal’s words.  It hadn’t occurred to him that his gift could be perceived negatively; he’d just thought she’d like it. He likes to think their friendship is in comfortable enough territory now that gifts wouldn't be a turnoff, especially because of how much more time they’ve been spending together outside of the bedroom. However, as he stands here now watching her hug herself in the living room of the tiny apartment she’d told him she was so proud to afford, he can see how wrong he’d been in that assumption.  Y/N is independent, and has been from the moment he met her.  A gift like this— so extravagant and expensive— could come off as him mocking her financial status, almost, even if it had originally been bought with good intentions.

Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth as something that feels a lot like embarrassment begins to boil in his stomach.  She’ll feel like she owes him something, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth.  If anything, it’s long overdue payment for everything Harry has unknowingly taken from her.  

“I don’t care about that.” Voice dropping quieter, Harry takes a step forward, his cool fingers wiggling their way between hers and pulling her arm from her tummy.  Once her hand is within his grasp, he squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles. He talks slowly, keeping his tone level and honest to communicate the real innocence behind his prestigious present. “I don’t need you to pay me back, and I don’t want you to feel bad.  The money thing— that’s not an issue for me.  And I understand if...it makes you uncomfortable…” His gaze flickers to the ground as well before meeting hers again. “I can take it back if you’d like, if it bothers you that much.  But I was hoping…” 

He rubs his finger over his cherry lips pensively, taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “Well.  The reservation is already made, I’m already dressed— and looking like a proper stud, if I may say so myself—” He laughs once in an attempt to lighten the mood, his eyes glued to Y/N’s face to see if she takes to the joke. He feels cool relief flood his veins when she scoffs slightly, the edges of her mouth ticking upwards humorously. “And you’ll match me so well in that dress that it’ll probably put me to shame, dove.”

Y/N glimpses up at him hesitantly, squeezing his fingers with a playful air. “You’re really good with words, y’know that?”

“I like to think I’m good at quite a few things.” Harry grins suggestively, cheekily squeezing her grasp right back. “And I hope I can add ‘getting you all dolled up and convincing you to come along to dinner with me’ to that list. So...what do you say?”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip as she mulls over the suggestion, her fingers grazing over the lionhead ring on Harry’s hand.  He has gone to a lot of trouble, she thinks, glancing over his appearance one more time.  His curls are carefully coiffed, his skin is practically glowing, his trusty cross necklace glints alluringly in the buttery lighting, alongside a small gold hoop on his pierced ear, and the way the suit fits over his body, hugging every flexing muscle and annunciating every hypnotizing curve… 

“What time is the reservation?” She finally asks, eyes flickering to the clock on her wall that reads ten after five.

Harry’s eyes follow hers. “Seven.” He says immediately, licking his lips once as he grips her hand in anticipation again. “We have plenty of time to make it, if— if you want to.”

It could’ve easily been the money Harry spent on the clothing that sways Y/N to say yes.  It could’ve been the humiliation of not realizing what he was planning and ruining his surprise.  But in reality, the thing that causes the next sentence to fall from Y/N’s mouth is the quiet weariness in Harry’s tone— a certain shyness that she hasn’t seen in him before, paired with a specific type of subtle raw hope that makes her heart absolutely melt.

“Alright.” She murmurs, nodding her head once as she draws away from his touch. “I’ll go shower, then, and get ready.  Are you alright waiting out here?”

A relieved smile jolts at the corner of Harry’s lips as he easily nods in return. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  I’d offer to hop in with you, but…” He gestures to himself vaguely as his grin widens with conceited teasing, shrugging one shoulder offhandedly as if what he says next should be obvious. “We wouldn’t want to ruin perfection, now would we?”

The jesting response pulls an eye roll from the human girl. “Uh huh.” She snorts, snatching her phone from the coffee table as she begins to make her way to the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” Harry calls after her, slipping his own phone from his pocket.  The click of the door lock pricks his ears, but he waits until he hears the shower running to unlock his device and dial the restaurant number.

“Bella Vita Ristorante, how many I help you?”

Harry exhales hard as he rubs a hand over his eyes, his head falling back to hang off his shoulders as his mind recalculates the evening’s plans, shifting things out of place to mold everything around this minor hiccup. He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible, swallowing down the instinctive bothered bite threatening to elbow through. “May I speak to Vincenzo, please?”

“Yes, of course. Just a moment, please.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, and Harry’s gaze slides to the Rolex on his wrist as he waits, not nearly as patient as he knows he should be.

“Hello?” A familiar rough Italian accent echoes through the phone speaker, followed by a light clearing of the person’s throat. “This is Vincenzo.”

“Ciao, Vincenzo, é Harry.” Hi, Vincenzo, it’s Harry. He answers in Italian on reflex, gliding his hand over his lips once more as he fights the urge to tug on his styled hair. “Come stai?” How are you?

Friendly excitement breaks into the man’s voice the second the vampire makes his identity known. “Signor Styles, sto bene, grazie! Non vedo l'ora di vedere te e la tua ospite stasera.” Mr. Styles, I’m well, thank you! I’m looking forward to seeing you and your guest tonight.

Harry glances at the bathroom door symbolically, exhaling curtly through his nose. His tone comes out apologetic and unsure. “Sì, chiamo di stasera.  Abbiamo riscontrato un piccolo problema.  C'è un modo per spingere la prenotazione da sei a sette?” Yes, I’m calling about tonight.  We ran into a little problem.  Is there any way we can push the reservation from six to seven?

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry waits with bated breath for Vincenzo’s reply. The waiter’s response flows through the phone with a rueful heaviness that makes the immortal’s stomach plummet. “Siamo molto impegnati stasera, Harry… È un sabato, dopotutto.” We’re very busy tonight, Harry… It’s a Saturday, after all.

A frustrated sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he scratches at the nape of his neck, once again itching to yank at his curls but forcing himself to refrain the impulse. “Lo so, Vincenzo, e mi dispiace chiederti il ​​favore, ma devo. Sai che te lo devo e ti lascio una generosa mancia.” I know, Vincenzo, and I’m sorry to ask you such a favour, but I have to.  You know I’ll owe you, and I’ll leave a generous tip.

When Vincenzo replies, the hesitation in his voice is gone, replaced by reassurance and familiar fondness. “No, no, Harry, non mi devi niente. Per te, non è un problema. Gli amici aiutano gli amici per gentilezza, lo sai. Mi assicurerò che il tuo tavolo sia pronto per le sette.” No, no, Harry, you don’t owe me anything.  For you, this is no problem.  Friends help friends out of kindness, you know that. I’ll make sure your table is ready for seven.

Harry heaves a grand sigh of relief, a wide smile cracking his face in half. His head swings forward as a light laugh falls from his ruby lips, all tension washing out of his strong shoulders in one swift wave. “Grazie mille. Ti devo, lo fare.” Thank you so much.  I owe you, I do.

His friend’s casual demeanor filters through the phone with a dismissive click of his tongue, and Harry can practically see the older man waving his hand passively. “Senza senso. Ci vediamo più tardi, sì?” Nonsense.  I will see you later, yes?

“Sì. Grazie ancora. Ciao, Vincenzo.” Yes.  Thank you again.  Goodbye, Vincenzo.

As Harry hangs up the phone, he feels a weight lift off his chest.  He knows that it wouldn’t have been a problem if Vincenzo had been unable to move the reservation; all it would’ve taken is a few words of persuasion at the host stand, and Harry would’ve been able to waltz right into the restaurant.  But Vincenzo has been kind to him— has been such a good friend, really— and Harry would hate to tarnish that relationship.

With the new reservation secured, Harry tucks his phone back into his suit pocket, turning his attention to the gifts he’d brought Y/N that are still in their boxes.  He removes the satin dress from its packaging, meticulously folding it over his arm as he snags the clutch and heels with his hands and carries them to Y/N’s room.

Harry nudges the door to the bedroom open with his foot, hesitating in the door frame as Y/N’s familiar honey and lavender scent fills his senses, and the vampire’s gaze slinks over a place he’s spent countless hours in as she’s slept soundly next to him.  There’s been a few changes, he observes— warm satisfaction begins to bloom in his chest when he sees the tapestry on the wall has been replaced with the framed Monet print from the antique mall, her half emptied overnight bag is lying on her chair still from her last overnight stay at his condo, and the comforter on her bed hasn’t been fixed back in its usual place.  Harry sets the Louboutins on the ground before tugging the comforter back into order, draping the dress onto the bed and smoothing the creases that formed.  After he lays the clutch down next to the dress, Harry steps back and admires his choices.  It was good that he’d gone with the black satin, he thinks, brushing a hand over the shining fabric with a fulfilled expression.  It’s simple, yet elegant, and matches him perfectly, which brings a flutter of pleasure to his dormant chest like nothing else.

With the dress sufficiently laid out, Harry turns on his heel to leave, and his quick movement blows an unfamiliar scent around the room.  Harry inhales deeply, wrinkling his nose in response to the thick fragrance of carnations and cedar that settle into his senses.  While cedar isn’t one of his favourite scents, he doesn’t usually mind it, but the overpowering presence of carnations nearly gags him, and Harry twists back around to find the source of the offensive stench.

It only takes a second for his eyes to settle on the cause, a new addition to Y/N’s bedroom that he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in.  He takes one stride across the small room to her bedside table, picking up the object with a gentle grip.

The picture frame is made entirely of glass, but has a decorative gold edge lining the small rectangle as both decoration and protection of delicate hands from sharp corners.  In the center of the frame is a photo of three girls dressed in navy blue caps and gowns with red and white sashes around their necks, their arms thrown around each other as their posture curves, and bright smiles on all of their faces.  Although she looks years younger, her hair is longer, and her eyes more naive, Harry recognizes Y/N on the left right away.  The identities of the other two girls, however, stump him.

Of course he wouldn’t recognize them on sight, as Harry has never met any of Y/N’s hometown friends, but his ruby lips drop into a frown when he realizes that he can’t even conjure a name for either of the girls.  No first initial, no general idea— just nothing.  They’re ghosts to him.

Harry traces a finger down the younger Y/N’s face, searching for any part of the woman he knows now in the girl who existed then.  The acne on her cheeks that she’s covered in makeup for the photo match the pattern of light scarring she has on her face, small marks that Harry’s traced in the dead of the night as he listens to her breathe.  Her eyes, while younger, do show a faint glimmer of that stubbornness that he’s been so prone to witnessing.  But it’s her smile, Harry realizes, that is the most different.  While the size and shape of it are the same, there’s a dullness to it that digs into his mind, scraping against his every perception of her.  This is around the time she’d have been with her ex, he remembers, dragging a finger down the edge of the frame.  But what else was life like for her there?  She had friends, obviously, friends who still care about her enough to send her this framed photo drenched in their carnation and cedar scent.  Life couldn’t have been all that bad.

He sets the framed photo back down on her bedside table, scanning the room with a keen eye more closely than he had before.  If he tore through every book on her wall of shelves, would he find any inscriptions written to her from a person in her past?  Notes that had been slipped between herself and others in high school science class, still pressed between yellowed pages as bookmarks?  What if he dug into her bedside table drawer?  Would he find more pictures, letters from those she’d left behind?  It’s strange to think that with all the time Harry has spent in this room, there’s still so many secrets buried within its four glossy walls.

Harry settles his gaze onto the silk dress once again, worrying his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he does so.  Y/N had been worried that a Gucci dress wouldn’t be a good fit for her, and while Harry had thought she meant she couldn’t wear a designer brand, maybe she’d meant she didn’t want to.  Maybe her hesitation didn’t lie in just the cost of the outfit, but in her not wanting something so extravagant.

Sucking in a short breath through his teeth, Harry clears his mind of the thought.  Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to, he assures himself, quickly adjusting the hem of the dress on the bed.  And besides, it’s just for a few hours.  She’ll be out of the dress soon enough, and into…

Harry turns back to her vanity, swiping the overnight bag from where he’d spotted it on the chair.  A pair of sweatpants already lies inside, but Harry still tugs open Y/N’s dresser and snags another pair, as well as a comfortable t-shirt for her to sleep in.  He packs two pairs of fresh panties as well, one high-waisted cotton and another a cheeky pretty lace (the latter is definitely for selfish reasons, if he’s being honest) along with Y/N’s favourite pair of fuzzy slipper socks, because he knows how her feet get cold on the tile of his kitchen floor in the mornings.  

The image in his head brings a smile to his face as he grabs a few hair ties from her vanity and throws them into the bag, along with her half empty bag of makeup removers.  She always gets a chill in the morning in general, so she normally emerges from his bedroom with one of his sweaters tugged around her tired body, half mumbling incoherently until Harry slides a cup of coffee into her hands.  In truth, sleeping next to his icy body probably does nothing to help the mortal, but Harry just tries to wrap her in an extra blanket to help remedy the situation.

Just as he’s tugging the zipper on the back shut, he hears the creak of the bathroom door, followed by the soft steps of Y/N’s feet against the runner rug down her hallway.  Harry straightens up just as the bedroom door is nudged open, and whatever sharp comment was on the tip of his tongue dies away as he sees Y/N.

She’s already done her hair, having styled it into soft curls that are pinned back from her face with two gold clasps on either side of her head, and if Harry were in a more comprehensive mindset, he’d be pleased that the gold will match the adornments on the clutch.  But Harry isn’t in a comprehensive mindset, due to the fact that Y/N’s body, still damp from her shower, is wrapped in only the smallest blue towel Harry has ever seen.

After Y/N shuts the door behind her, she turns around and sees Harry standing in her bedroom with a bag in his hand, and she clutches the towel tighter to her chest in surprise. “Harry—” Her heartbeat stutters as she locks eyes with the creature before her, her cheeks immediately flushing with heat. “What are you doing?  I said to wait in the living room!”

“I know.” He licks his lips slowly as his eyes flicker down her figure and back again, the bright emerald darkening to jade when he meets her gaze once more. “I was just laying out your outfit.  Although now that you’re here, wearing only that—” He gestures to the towel with his free hand as the edge of his lips curl. “Why don’t we just cut out the middleman and have a quick shag?”

Y/N scoffs in response, pushing her way past her lover to her dresser drawers. “I already showered, H, and I even put effort into my hair, so we have to go out.  Can’t waste it, y’know?” With her hand wrapped around the handle of her dresser, the human girl pauses, her gaze drifting curiously from Harry’s face to the bag clutched in his grasp. “What’s that?”

It takes a moment for Harry’s attention to turn from Y/N’s glistening cleavage to the object she’s nodding towards. “Oh, I— uh— I packed an overnight bag for you.” He clears his throat as he sets the bag on the bed, taking a step back from the item like it’s a ticking bomb. “It’s not— I’m not insinuating that you have to stay over if you don’t want to, of course. And you don’t have to use it, but I just thought that if you decided to, you’d want something comfy to sleep in.”

“How is it,” Y/N laughs softly, her curls bouncing as she shakes her head in disbelief. “That you can go from saying you want to fuck me to telling me you packed me an overnight bag, all in the span of one minute?”

Harry presses into the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he chuckles, dimples winking awake and eyes glimmering all at once. “S’easy, really, when you look like that.  It makes me horny—”

“Everything makes you horny.”

“—but I’m still a gentleman.”

A low hum echoes from Y/N’s throat as she opens her underwear drawer, surveilling the contents before she begins to rummage for what she’s looking for. “Alright then.  Would the gentleman be so kind as to step outside so I can finish getting ready?”

Y/N hears two quiet footsteps behind her before she can feel Harry’s cool breath on her neck, her damp skin prickling at the sensation.

“Do I really have to step outside?” He groans lowly as his lips graze the shell of Y/N’s ear temptingly, and she shivers when his teeth follow behind. “S’nothing I haven’t seen before.”

There’s a nagging temptation in the back of Y/N’s mind to twist around on her heel, drop her towel to the ground, give into Harry’s half-hypnotic seduction, and let him drag her back to her bed to take care of the heat that’s beginning to swell between her thighs.  But she knows she’s already pushing the seven P.M. deadline, and if she allows herself to take that detour, she’ll never make it on time.

“Yes.” She mumbles, suppressing a whine as Harry’s lips move to the pulse point on her neck, smudging open kisses down her heated skin. “I just need to do my makeup and get dressed, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

A disappointed sigh rustles across the shell of her ear. “Alright.” Harry murmurs defeatedly, smudging one last kiss to her jugular before stepping back from her intoxicating cloud of flowers and sugar that, if the burn in the back of his throat is any indication, is doubly intense from her shower. “I’ll just be outside then, doll.  Take your time.”

Y/N keeps her back to Harry, clutching her towel with a clenched hand until she hears the click of her bedroom door shutting behind him.  She knows that if she looks at him again, and sees that stupidly suggestive smirk on his face, she’d give him whatever he wants— which, considering she’s already trying to do that by going to this dinner, is a bit of a problem.  Once he’s gone, however, she’s free to heave an exhale of relief as she searches for the undergarments she’s pictured in her mind.

While Y/N was in the shower, she’d been trying to picture what she would wear with the expensive dress that Harry had purchased for her.  She only has one strapless bra— a nude coloured cotton contraption, which she’d purchased at a Target last minute for a dinner party a neighbour had thrown back home a few years ago— and she didn’t think that pairing the cheap article with a Gucci dress was going to work.  Some of her friends back home, however, had just mailed her a little care package earlier in the week, and one of the things they’d included was a strapless bustier with a note reading “Here’s to getting L.A.’d!” tucked inside.  They’d meant it as a joke, of course, but as Y/N extracts the lace garment from her drawer, she sends a silent thank you to her friends and their strangely omniscient humour.

Y/N releases her grip on her towel, drying the rest of the dampness from her body quickly before tossing the fabric over the back of her closet door.  After selecting a matching pair of black lace panties, Y/N slips the undergarments on, fidgeting with the bustier to get it to sit right.

A gentle knock echoes from the other side of her bedroom door just as she gets the clothing settled. “How’s it going in there, love?” Harry’s voice floats through the crack in the door, half muffled through the barrier. “Have you got the dress on yet?”

“Not yet,” Y/N calls back, sitting down at her vanity as she analytically surveys her makeup. “Patience is a virtue, Holmes, don’t you know that?”

On the other side of the door, Harry lets out a long sigh, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers along the inside of his elbow. “Yeah, well,” He leans his back against the door, sliding one ankle over the other as he lets the wood support his weight. “‘M not very virtuous, Watson.  I think you can attest to that.”

Harry glances over his shoulder at the wooden door, a smug smile peaking onto his lips as he hears the blood rush to Y/N’s cheeks from inside the room. “What?” He taunts, satisfaction laced into his accent. “Cat got your tongue?”

Pressing his head back against the wood to hear better, Harry is met with the sound of a makeup brush sweeping against Y/N’s silky skin, so quiet that human ears could never detect it.  He focuses his attention a little harder to try and picture the steps of her getting ready routine as she performs them. 

A rustling of fabric that sounds a lot like lace pricks his ears, taking his attention with it as Y/N grumbles a reply. “You’re such an ass.”

“Ah, nevermind, then.  Tongue’s still there, and as sharp as ever, I see.” Harry chuckles lowly as he listens to the nearly silent stroking of mascara over Y/N’s lashes.  

He likes that, he realizes, as he raises one hand from its crossed position to rub over his pillowy lips while he waits.  He likes hearing the muted sounds of Y/N getting ready— the bristling of makeup brushes against her skin, the hushed hums that leave her mouth as she debates over what colours to use on her eyelids, the muffled spritz of her perfume bottle against her neck.  The notes of poppies and vanilla mix with her natural scent of lavender and honey, and Harry’s eyelids flutter when the fragrance rolls under the door and envelops him completely.

It takes a harsh bite of his tongue and digging his fingernails into his clenched palms for Harry to restrain the moan fighting to break through his tightened jaw.  Months ago, when he first smelled Y/N in that club, he’d sworn that she smelled more delicious than any aroma he’d ever encountered, but now… Harry wants to laugh at the naivety of his past self, and probably would, if unclenching his jaw didn’t mean letting a growl fall from his throat.  Now, he’s convinced Y/N’s scent is an aphrodisiac created just for him.  All it takes is one small inhale, and his entire body responds.  Even now, as he presses his pounding head back against the panel, he can feel his mouth flooding with venom, his abdomen tightening, and a subtle throb beginning to bulge his—

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice breaks through the cloud of arousal dulling Harry’s senses. “Can you help me zip up the dress?”

The vampire swallows the excess venom in his mouth in an attempt to clear the lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah.” He replies, his voice strained as he struggles to regain control of himself.  He clutches the door handle in his icy hand, pushing the barrier open with restrained strength. “Yeah, I can.”

When he steps into the room, he expects to see Y/N facing the door, her hands clutching the loose dress to her chest the way she’d clutched her towel earlier.  For a moment, there’s a flicker of excitement in Harry’s belly that beats back the desire rolling around inside him.  He’s been waiting to see her in his dress for only a day, but it feels like an eternity, and he pastes a charming smile onto his face as he lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s.

What he’s greeted with, however, is the smooth expanse of the girl’s exposed back, a clear line of tantalizing skin running from the nape of her neck to the curve just below her backside, only broken up by a thick band of black lace with satin ribbing.  

While he was able to control himself in the hallway, the inside of Y/N’s bedroom— with her mouthwatering scent surrounding him and her exposed skin in his line of sight— is an entirely different story.  Harry can feel the way his canopy green eyes darken, and it’s a good thing Y/N is facing the wall, or else she’d see the shards of crimson that he can’t stop from flitting across his irises.  With every step he takes towards the human, he becomes more aware of just how mortal she is— how her heart pounds louder with each passing moment, the shallowness of her breathing as he gets closer, the heat radiating off of every inch of her skin.  Even with his centuries of experience behind him, it’s nearly too much for Harry, whose every instinct is screaming at him to lock the door and ravage the girl in front of him in every way he can.

Harry doesn’t stop walking until the front of his chest brushes against Y/N’s back and his breath is hitting her neck.  He unhurriedly skims his palms over her bare shoulders, feeling the goosebumps that form underneath his icy touch as his hands run down her arms and back up again.

“This…” His voice is thick with desire as one hand travels down the trail of Y’N’s spine, eliciting a shiver from her before grazing the edge of the black lace. “This is new.  I haven’t seen this before.”

“I…” Y/N’s speech falters as she feels Harry’s freezing digits trail down the small of her back as his other hand continues to stroke across her shoulder, barely touching the base of her neck with each movement. “I got it from my friends back home.  They, um—” She sucks in a harsh breath as Harry’s hand inches its way towards her throat. “They sent me a package.”

Harry hums low in her ear, the sound vibrating throughout her body before settling in her warming tummy. “Did they?  How thoughtful.” With his palm finally at her neck, he squeezes it once, applying the slightest bit of pressure to her jugular as his lips brush against the top of her ear. “I should send them a thank you note.”

The feeling of Y/N swallowing beneath his grip sends another wave of desire crashing over Harry, and he bites back a low growl as the fingertips of his other hand find the golden Gucci emblem zipper at the back of her dress.  When he does, he tugs the metal tag up slowly, the sound of the zip barely audible over Y/N’s ragged breathing. 

“S’a shame, really.” Harry murmurs in her ear, letting his teeth graze her earlobe just hard enough to catch her breath. “A crying shame.”

“What—” Y/N’s heart pounds out of her chest as Harry squeezes her neck once more, applying just a smidge more pressure than he did previously. “What’s a shame?”

Harry’s lips trail down her jaw, smearing a single kiss along the dip where it curves to meet her neck. His fingers squeeze her one last time before releasing. “That this pretty little piece your friends sent you is going to end up ripped to shreds on my bedroom floor.” 

The blunt reply incites a squeak of surprise from Y/N as Harry tugs the zipper completely to the top of the dress, settling the seam flat against her flushed back before stepping away.

“Fits like a glove.” Harry murmurs as his hands return to his sides, fixing the fall of his own suit that was disturbed during his previous actions.  He raises a single finger and makes a twirling motion as he dimples a smirk the human girl can’t see. “Give me a twirl, will you, dove?”

Y/N inhales a deep breath as steadily as she can, using the moment to calm her racing pulse before turning around to face Harry with a flustered complexion. 

The dress, made of black satin, has a sweetheart neckline that sits off her shoulders, and hugs tight to the curves of her body all the way down to the hem, which sits just above her knees.  It could be considered conservative, really, if it weren’t for the leg slit running so far up her thigh that Y/N is a little worried about flashing her underwear every time she takes a step.

Harry, however, seems to share none of those concerns, as he hungrily drinks in the sight of her with a satisfied grin and lust swirling through his jade irises.  She’s kept her makeup fairly neutral, save for the bold red lipstick adorning her lips, and while Harry feels a prick of sadness at the realization that he’ll have difficulty kissing her throughout the evening, the idea of smearing said lipstick across her face afterwards erases the feeling completely.  And the dress… “Y’look so fucking gorgeous in that dress, angel.” He hums lowly, rubbing his thumb over his lionhead ring absentmindedly. “So much better than Adam did, and without all the complaining, too.”

Y/N stares at her lover with a blank expression “What—?”

“Does it feel alright?” Harry strides around the mortal girl, examining the fall of the fabric with a keen eye. “I took a guess on your size, though I think I did pretty well. I've licked every inch of your body to the point where I practically have it memorized, so it was relatively easy.” He gives her a cheeky grin as his hand grazes her waist. “But Gucci sizing can be a bit tricky.”

“It— yeah.  It feels alright.” Y/N tugs on the hem of the dress as she feels heat crackle across her ears, shooting him an accusing stare as she touches the thigh slit. “This is a little much, but other than that…”

“That’s my favourite detail, actually.” Harry laughs lightly as he walks to her bed, taking a seat on the edge before reaching for the Louboutin box. “But it’ll feel a lot more natural once you have the heels on.”

“Uh, yeah, about those…” Y/N eyes the offending shoes as Harry extracts them from the packaging, doubt painting itself all over her face. “Those look like six inch deathtraps, and I don’t really trust something that uses a ribbon to attach itself to my ankle, so I think I’ll take a raincheck on the heels.  I have some flats I can wear instead.”

Harry scoffs, a snort echoing from the back of his throat as he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine, love.  I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.  You may not trust the shoes, but you can trust me, can’t you?” He unravels the ribbon from one of the shoes and pats his knee expectantly. “C’mere.  I’ll make sure I tie them nice and tight, yeah?”

Y/N nearly chews on her bottom lip before she remembers the lipstick she’d carefully applied earlier. “Alright.” She relents, walking over and lifting her foot to rest on his bent knee. “But if I snap my ankle in half, you’re paying my hospital bill.”

“And I would do so gladly, except it won’t be necessary.” A quiet chuckle rolls out of Harry’s lips as he grips her calf gently, fitting her foot into the sole of the heel with one smooth motion.  Once it’s sitting nicely, Harry diligently wraps the satin ribbon around her ankle, stopping midway up her calf before tying it tightly into a neat bow. “See?  Nice and secure, darling.  You’ll be alright.”

Y/N’s cheeks boil as Harry presses a single kiss to the slope of her knee before setting her foot gently on the ground. “Next one, please.” He smiles up at her with a twinkle in his sea glass eyes.

That twinkle, however, darkens the moment Y/N hikes her other bare foot onto his knee, gripping his shoulder for support as she teeters on one heel.  The leg that she’s lifting is the side of the dress with the thigh slit, and she can tell from the expression on Harry’s face that he has quite the view.

Just like he did previously with the zipper, Harry takes his time slipping Y/N’s foot into the second stiletto.  He trails his fingers all the way up her calf and back down before reaching for the ribbon, and is more meticulous in his motions as he ties the satin around her calf.  

Y/N swivels on her other foot as she tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders, fisting the fabric of his suit between her fingers. “Thanks, H.” She clears her throat as Harry’s cool hands keep their grip on her lower leg, massaging the muscle beneath his fingers with careful and concise motions. “That’s, um, that’s good, I think.”

Harry hums in response, letting her know he’s registered her words, but he doesn’t release her from his grip.  Instead, he bends at his hips, making sure that Y/N can still grasp him for support as he connects his lips to the smooth skin of her calf.

He smudges his mouth all along the area up to her knee, each kiss sloppy and open-mouthed as he inhales more and more of her intense fragrance.  His nose nudges along the tender and dimpled flesh of her thigh, her scent growing stronger the higher Harry gets, and it burns his aching throat with lust and thirst.  He can feel the heat radiating from her core, and he wants nothing more than to burrow his face between her legs and lose himself completely in her taste.  But he’s already come so far, and put so much work into this night; he can’t let it all go to waste because his self-control is particularly weak at this moment. 

With that in mind, he sucks in another long breath, sponging one last kiss to the top of Y/N’s kneecap. “Does it all fit nicely?” He asks, voice gravelly with desire as he squeezes her calf. “The dress, the shoes… is it all alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” Y/N whispers, releasing the fabric of Harry’s jacket before it creases, smoothing it with her palms. “It all fits good.”

“Mmm.  Perfect.” His lips twitch against her skin as he drags another searing breath into his lungs. “Anything I give you always fits so fucking good.”

Another flash of heat rises to Y/N’s cheeks, and she nods weakly in response, not trusting her ability to form words. A quiet hum is the only comprehensible noise she can manage. “Mhmm.” 

Harry straightens up the slightest bit, giving her an expectant look as he releases the grip of one hand on her calf to lightly touch the shell of his pierced ear. “Sorry, pet.  Didn’t hear you quite clearly.” He says, his voice taking on a sterner tone. “Did you agree?”

Although embarrassment begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine, it quickly mixes with irritation.  She knows what he’s getting at, and she can’t afford to let herself give in. “Yeah.” She mumbles, keeping her response as short as she can.

Despite the edge beginning to creep into Y/N’s voice, Harry can’t stop himself from pressing the matter.  He never can, really, when he’s in a mood like this.  When his mouth is filled with venom, when his head is throbbing so much that he can hear a steady drumbeat vibrating through his skull.  He can’t stop.

“M’gonna need to hear you say it, I’m afraid.” He raises his ringed hand to the human girl’s chin, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger as he regards her with a firm and conceited gaze. “Speak up, minx.  I know you have no issue with being loud.”

All it takes is that one reminder for all of Y/N’s resolve to fall away, her entire body flooding with warmth as she lets out a trembling sigh.  She swallows the weight in her throat down as much as she can, pinning her eyes to where Harry is gripping her calf with a strong hand. “Everything you give me always fits so good.” She whispers, her voice higher than it was a moment before.

Harry squeezes the backside of her knee once. “Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Y/N’s entire body feels as if it’s on fire as sweat begins to bead across her forehead, but her mouth is as dry as a desert. She swallows thickly once more, gathering all the composure she can muster. “Everything—” Her voice cracks once, and she clears her throat as Harry’s thumb sweeps across her chin in an encouraging manner. “Everything you give me always fits so good.”

When she completes the task, Harry gropes her knee once more, but this time the action is a show of satisfaction rather than demand.  He trails his fingers up her bent leg to her thigh, only stopping to dig his fingertips into the crease where her backside begins to plump. “That’s my good girl.”

Delicately setting Y/N’s heeled foot back on the ground, Harry rises from the bed, both of her hands grasped in his own to help her remain steady.  Once he’s eye level with his lover once again, he leans forward and stamps a chaste kiss onto her forehead, his lips already tugging into a small grin before he pulls away.

“Y’ready to go, then?” He questions casually, smoothing the thumb of his right hand over her knuckles as his left hand snags the Gucci clutch from the bed, along with Y/N’s phone.  He unclaps the clutch and settles the phone into its silk lining before handing the bag to the human girl.  

Y/N clears her throat once more as she takes a shaky step towards her vanity, grabbing the lipstick she’d applied before and tossing it into the bag, clasping it shut with a final snap. “I suppose so.” She chews on the inside of her cheek as she shoots Harry a nervous glance. “I might need you to carry me down the stairs of my building, though.”

Harry laughs once as he grabs the overnight bag he’d packed with one hand and reclaims Y/N’s left hand in the other. “Don’t worry, pet.  I’ll make sure Cinderella doesn’t lose a shoe.  Or break an ankle.”

“Thanks, Prince Charming.”

“Considering I’m the one that got the dress, I think the Fairy Godmother role fits just a smidge better.”

///

Although it takes careful steps, more than a few stumbles, and Harry’s hand wrapped securely around her waist, Y/N manages to make it down the multiple flights of stairs in her apartment building to Harry’s car waiting below.  After the ten minute car ride into downtown L.A., the majority of which is spent with Harry’s hand sitting perfectly still on Y/N’s exposed thigh, the vampire pulls the car in front of a large restaurant with a line of well-dressed parties winding down the sidewalk.

The restaurant itself, Bella Vita, is one that Y/N’s heard of in passing, but has never experienced firsthand herself, probably because it holds a reputation for being the premier Italian restaurant in all of Los Angeles.  Shock covers her features as she stares out the car window at the grand glass double doors, but only for a moment; after all, could she have expected anything less from Harry, who seems to indulge in luxuries the way most people do chocolate?

When the passenger side door swings open, the surprise returns as Y/N glances up and sees a blonde man she doesn’t know dressed in a suit holding the door open.  The breast of his outfit is embroidered with the restaurant name, but it’s not until Harry, who has already vacated the driver’s side and is behind him, flips the valet his keys.

“Thanks, mate.” Thinly veiled irritation works its way through Harry’s voice as he steps in front of the valet, clapping his large hand over the employee’s shoulder. “I got it from here.”

The valet nods curtly, releasing his grip on the door as Harry extends his hand to Y/N.  The mortal girl grasps it within her own, eager to receive the help he offers as she swings her exposed legs out of the low car and onto the ground. 

“There we go, love.” Harry’s voice softens as he pulls her to stand, giving her a moment to find her balance on her own before sliding his arm around her hips. “Y’alright?”

“I’m fine.” Y/N nods in confirmation as she folds her arms in front of her body, grasping the Gucci clutch in tight hands while she appraises the packed high-end restaurant. “I see why you insisted on the dress now.”

A low laugh rumbles from Harry’s chest as he shuts the car door with his free hand. “I told you, you need to trust me more.  Have a little faith.” He extends his palm towards the valet, shaking his hand quickly and smoothly while sliding him a bill. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo retracts his hand from Harry’s icy grasp with another respectful nod of his head, slipping the bill into the inside pocket of his suit. “Of course, Mr. Styles.  Enjoy your dinner.”

Y/N watches as the valet hurries to the driver’s side of the car, sliding in and starting the engine with ease as Harry begins to lead Y/N to the door. 

“So…” She quirks an eyebrow as Harry confidently bypasses the long line of people waiting to be seated. “You’re Mr. Styles here, are you?  Do you come here that often?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, releasing his grip on Y/N’s waist to open the large glass door for her. “Every once in a while, I suppose.” He quips, the answer as non-committal as most things Harry says.  Once Y/N steps into the restaurant, the vampire follows closely behind, clutching her warm hand in his own as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “But I wouldn’t say it’s too often—”

“Harry!”

An older man that looks to be in his mid-seventies emerges from behind the corner, dressed in a fine suit and with an animated grin on his tan, weathered face.  He waves off the host at the stand who had been about to approach the two new guests, his arms already outstretched towards Harry.

“Vincenzo!” Harry responds with equal enthusiasm as he lets go of Y/N’s hand to clutch Vincenzo’s between his palms.  He leans forward and pecks two air kisses onto the employee’s cheeks as the older man does the same. “È così bello rivederti. Come stai?” It’s so nice to see you again.  How are you?

Y/N’s eyes widen in utter shock at the fluent Italian that easily slips from Harry’s ruby lips, watching as Vincenzo takes a step back from him with the same excitement as when he first turned the corner.

“Sto bene, grazie. È meraviglioso anche vederti.” I’m well, thank you.  It’s wonderful to see you, too.  Vincenzo’s attention lists over Harry’s shoulder to Y/N, who is still standing behind him with her mouth half open in bewilderment. 

“Grazie ancora per aver riorganizzato la prenotazione per noi.” Thank you again for rearranging the reservation for us.  Harry reaches back and intertwines his fingers with Y/N’s again as another Italian phrase slips off his tongue with practiced ease. “Ti devo un favore.” I owe you a favour.

“Te l'ho già detto, non mi devi niente. Gli amici aiutano gli amici.” I’ve already told you, you don’t owe me anything.  Friends help friends.  Vincenzo raises an eyebrow as he gestures to Y/N, who’s still a half step behind Harry as he carries out the conversation. “A proposito di ... chi è questo, Harry?” Speaking of… Who is this, Harry?

“Perdonami, sono stato scortese.” Forgive me, I’ve been rude.  Letting go of Y/N’s hand, Harry drifts his palm to the small of Y/N’s back, rubbing his thumb over the satin of her dress as he gently guides her forward for a proper introduction. “Vincenzo, sono Y/N, la mia ... amica.  Y/N, questo è Vincenzo, il titolare del ristorante.” Vincenzo, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my… friend.  Y/N, this is Vincenzo Genovesi, the owner of the restaurant.

Y/N’s ears prick up when she hears her name, and she smiles shyly in greeting at the older man. “Hi.” She wants to offer a more formal presentation, but is unsure if he speaks English or not, so she simply extends her hand to shake his. 

Vincenzo’s smile grows as he grasps her hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and planting an innocent kiss to her skin before taking a polite step back. “È così bello conoscerti.  Sei così bello!”

With a gentle squeeze to her love handles, Harry lowers his mouth to Y/N’s ear, his lips barely grazing her sensitive skin as he speaks. “He says it’s lovely to meet you, and that you’re very beautiful.” He translates, and Y/N can feel the way he’s smiling into her hair.

A shiver rolls down her spine as his cool breath meets her neck, but she manages to ignore the sensation, and instead sends a grateful smile in Vincenzo’s direction. “Oh… Thank you.  Grazie.” She tacks on, and although she tries her best to mimic Harry’s Italian accent, the way the immortal’s body tenses against her side as he represses a laugh tells her that she didn’t pass the test.

Vincenzo, however, waves off Harry’s amused expression, flipping his hand airily in his direction before taking Y/N’s again. She finds out that he indeed does speak English, and it comes out with a thick accent that holds so much genuine kindness, she immediately takes a strong liking to the aged gentleman. “Wipe that grin off your face, cretino, at least she’s trying!” He pats Y/N’s hand reassuringly, shaking his head with a disappointed scoff. “The last time he brought someone here, they spent the entire time doing a Godfather impression.  And it wasn’t even a good one!”

“How many times do I have to apologize for bringing Niall until you let me forget it?” Harry sighs in exasperation, his hand snaking around Y/N tighter than before. “I’ve already forbidden him from coming back.”

Shaking his head with a hearty laugh, Vincenzo pats Y/N’s hand once more before stepping back to the host stand and grabbing two leather-bound menus from the shelf. “I will never forget, Harry.  But don’t worry; I’ve still reserved your favourite table in the back of the restaurant.  Come, bella donna,” He tucks the menus underneath his arm as he gently loops Y/N’s arm through his own, tugging her from Harry’s grasp as he begins to lead her away from the entrance. “Let me escort you to the table, yes?”

Y/N allows Vincenzo to lead her, but glances over her shoulder to meet Harry’s amused gaze as he trails behind them, large hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks as his eyebrows poise teasingly.  The table in question, she discovers, is tucked away in a private corner of the restaurant, framed by a plethora of flora and candles that reflect back on the stone walls.  

Although Vincenzo releases her arm to retract Y/N’s chair, Harry beats him to it, pulling the seat out smoothly and waiting until Y/N is seated comfortably to push the back of it in.  He brushes his cool hand over her shoulder, nudging a loose curl away from her bare neck while offering her a dimpled smile.

As Harry takes his own seat across from her, the older Italian man gives him a knowing look, his eyes glinting with mirth. “Solo un amica, eh?” Just a friend, eh?

The vampire half rolls his eyes, nodding his head slightly as he lays the cloth napkin over his thigh, voice stubbornly flat. “Sì. Solo un amica.” Yes.  Just a friend.

Vincenzo sets a menu down before each of them, clicking his tongue in unconvinced disbelief. “Non guardi un amica come l'hai appena guardata.” You don’t look at a friend the way you just looked at her.

Flipping his menu open with disinterest, Harry makes a bored sound in the back of his throat, waving off Vincenzo with a leisurely gesture. “Vorrei la carta dei vini, Vincenzo, non la tua opinione non richiesta.” I’d like the wine list, Vincenzo, not your unsolicited opinion.

A laugh echoes from the older man’s belly as he shakes his head in amusement, taking a step away from the table. “Certo, Signor Styles.  Lo farò portare subito dal cameriere.” Certainly, Mr. Styles.  I’ll have the waiter bring it right away.  

Turning his attention back to Y/N, Vincenzo takes her hand and kisses it once more. “Bella donna,” He begins, heaving a long sigh. “It was lovely to meet you.  And if this one ever gives you trouble,” he gestures to Harry with a nod, giving her a playfully wink,  “I have five grandsons that would die for the opportunity to dine with a woman as beautiful as yourself.”

Harry’s face hardens at the comment, but Y/N laughs at the joke, squeezing Vincenzo’s hand before releasing it. “Thank you, Vincenzo.  It was so nice to meet you… Next time I come, you’ll have to teach me some Italian.” She adds, glancing at Harry as the curiosity of what they discussed before burns a hole in her belly.

The moment Vincenzo leaves the pair to their own devices, the mortal girl leans forward, the inquiry already falling off her lips. “Speaking of Italian…” She runs her finger around the stem of her empty wine glass, cocking her head to the side. “What were you and Vincenzo talking about?”

Harry waves off her question just as he did Vincenzo’s comments. “Nothing important.  Don’t worry,” a sly grin works its way onto his lips as he smoothly changes the subject, “he wasn’t offering to set me up with his granddaughters, if that’s what you were worried about.  It seems he only wants you in the family.”

“Who wouldn’t?  I’m a delight.” Y/N remarks, a wry smile raising the corners of her lips. “But seriously, Harry— where did you learn to speak fluent Italian?”

The answer rolls off his tongue as easily as the language did. “Italy.” He states simply, as if it should be obvious.

And it’s not a lie; he really did learn in Italy.  It just happened to be during the early 1900s, when he had been bouncing around between Florence, Venice, and Rome.  He’d liked Italy, actually, and would’ve stayed there longer, but then an Archduke was assassinated, and Harry had to return to Britain to fight in what was then called “the War To End All Wars.” Harry had figured that he might as well, given that he could shrug off bullet wounds as easily as a knick, and could use his blood to help heal other soldiers when travesties struck. The Italian, it turned out, had come in handy as he fought his way through Europe, but considering the bloody conditions under which he did so, Harry much prefers using it to woo a lovely girl in an expensive restaurant.

“Italy.” Y/N repeats the word in a deadpan voice, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair, kinking an eyebrow stubbornly. “When were you in Italy?”

Ah, Harry thinks, habitually rubbing his thumb over his ruby lips.  It seems a little white lie is necessary. “During uni.  I did a semester abroad.”

For a moment, he thinks that Y/N doesn’t buy the fib.  Her other eyebrow quirks upwards to meet its partner, but her gaze remains as suspicious as it has been since she first asked the question.  When she finally opens her mouth to speak, there’s a small, irrational part of Harry that thinks she might prod for more. 

“What do you mean, ‘a semester abroad’?” She questions, and Harry is about to over-explain when her posture suddenly relaxes, her arms returning to her sides as an easygoing laugh falls from her mouth, a seemingly entertaining realization dawning on her. “Wait, you grew up in England!  You already lived abroad!”

A breathless and relieved chuckle rolls out of Harry as his shoulders drop, the tension rolling out of him as he leans forward. “I suppose that’s true, hm?” He hums, reaching for Y/N’s warm hand and tugging it onto the table to intertwine her fingers with his own. “I really just went a few doors down the neighborhood, didn’t I?”

“You really did.” Y/N sighs wistfully, drifting her thumb over the back of Harry’s knuckle without a second thought. “I’m jealous, though.  I wish I had gone away for school, even just to a different state.  I could’ve been living in Washington, or Oregon, or New York.  It would’ve been so nice.”

The corners of Harry’s lips weigh down into a frown as he considers the possibilities laced into the comment. “I suppose, but…” He casts his gaze towards their knitted hands.  Hers looks so much smaller wrapped inside his. “If you did, then you might not have moved to L.A.  And then we wouldn’t have—”

“Good evening, Mr. Styles, Miss Y/L/N.” A waiter that Harry hasn’t met before appears beside the table with a wine menu clasped in one hand and a basket of bread in the other.  

The server is younger than others Harry has seen before, but Harry knows Vincenzo hires his staff carefully, and that he wouldn’t send anyone too inexperienced to take care of Harry.  From the sweat beading his brow, the vampire can tell that Vincenzo has given the waiter a speech about Harry’s status with the restaurant owner, and the thought brings a small spark of satisfaction to him.  However, that satisfaction disappears the moment he sees the waiter’s eyes linger on Y/N a moment longer than needed. He nods kindly to both of them, but the immortal can’t evade the small spark of irritation that zips down his spine at the employee’s subtle interest in his companion.  Shifting in his seat, Harry tightens his grasp on Y/N’s hand, but keeps his demeanor neutral and polite.  It’s not like he can blame the poor boy, really.  Not when Y/N’s silky lips are sheathed in such a breathtaking shade of red.

“My name is Luca, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He shifts his attention back to Harry as he sets the bread basket on the table before extending the small leatherbound menu to him. “Here’s the wine list you asked for, Mr. Styles.  I’ll give you some time to look it over, and then I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”

Although his right hand is closer to the server, Harry reaches for the menu with his left in order to maintain his grasp on Y/N’s. “Thank you, Luca.  I appreciate it.”

Luca nods once as he takes a step back from the table, clasping his hands behind his back. “Prego, signore.” You’re welcome, sir. 

Harry’s eyebrow jolts up in mild surprise. “Oh, parli italiano?” Oh, you speak Italian?  He asks, the flip in language gliding down his tongue without so much as a second thought. Harry hadn’t expected it, given that the young man’s natural accent is as American as can be. 

Pausing on the ball of his foot, Luca nods as colour begins to rise to his cheeks. “Sì, signore, la mia famiglia è italiana.  Mia nonna mi ha insegnato a parlarlo quando ero giovane.” Yes, sir, my family is Italian.  My grandmother taught me to speak it when I was very young.

“Tua nonna è una signora molto intelligente, allora.” Your grandmother is a very smart lady, then.  Harry’s mind drifts back to his own upbringing, when his mother would gather him and his sister around the table on Sunday nights, reading them Latin passages by candlelight.  The memory brings a sad smile to his face. “Grazie per il menu. Lo daremo un'occhiata.” Thank you for the menu.  We’ll take a look at it.

Luca nods again, but there’s hesitation in the motion as his eyes drift to Y/N once more, flickering from her own gaze back down to her crimson lips. “Is there anything I can get you before I go, miss?  Some water, perhaps?”

Y/N sends a bright smile to the young man, nodding her head as a strand of her curled hair loosens from its pin. “Yes, please.  And thank you.”

“Due acque, Luca.” Two waters, Luca.  Harry interjects, clearing his throat quietly as he catches the human boy’s eye, giving a curt jut of his chin that signals he’s done ordering for the time being. “Grazie.”

Y/N reaches for the basket of bread the moment Luca has scurried away, her eyes lighting up as she hears the first slice crackle open. “Ooh, garlic bread.” She thrums happily as she takes a small bite while being mindful of her red lipstick, setting the rest of the bread on her side plate as she chews slowly and indulges the flurry of delicious flavors. She talks lightly over a semi-full mouth, careful as to not give Harry an unpleasant eyeful. “So what’s on the menu for drinks?  I’m assuming you’re, like, an expert on wine, right?”

Harry’s lips twitch as he bites back a laugh at the hint of annoyance in her voice. “What makes you say that?”

“You shop Gucci like it’s Target, you speak Italian, you’re a regular at this place…” Y/N’s eyes sweep over their private corner of the restaurant before sending a teasing glance to Harry. “Being a sommelier on the side just seems like something to add to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at.”

Despite the small jab, a satisfied smile settles on Harry’s lips as he squeezes Y/N’s hand. “You really are good at stroking my ego, aren’t you, dove?  I suppose we can add that to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at?”

The familiar comment brings Y/N back to the night the two of them met, in a dark and deafening club that’s the complete opposite of their current location.  She twists her fingers within Harry’s, flipping their hands to examine his palm as memories float through her mind like movie scenes.  How Harry had looked when he first walked over, the soothing and seductive tone of his voice, how she’d done her best to match his flirtatious compliments… how he’d kissed her in his car before taking her back to her apartment.  She should’ve known then, Y/N thinks, that she wouldn’t have been able to let someone like Harry be just a one night stand. 

“I guess I’ll allow you to add it.” Y/N murmurs teasingly as she clasps their hands together once more. “But, unfortunately for me, wine knowledge is not on that list, so… you pick something.  I trust your taste.”

“Alright, then.  No pressure for me.” Harry jokes, snapping his gaze from her hypnotizing irises to peruse the menu once more. “Would you like red, white, or rosé?”

The human hums as she considers the question, pursing her lips in thought, as if the answer she gives is life or death. “Red, I think.” She replies, watching as Harry’s brow furrows in thought while shifting his eyes to the red wine list. 

A moment later, Luca appears again with two glasses of ice water balanced on a tray, which he sets down on the table before each of them.  While both of them offer a murmur of thanks, it’s only Y/N’s show of gratitude that incites a darkening of his cheeks.

Another thread of irritation flares down Harry’s spine, but he forces himself to dampen it down with a reminder that if he were the one waiting on Y/N— rather than being the one sitting across from her— he’d probably be doing the exact same thing. “Penso che abbiamo preso una decisione, Luca.” I think we’ve made a decision, Luca.  He says with a tight smile, snapping the wine menu shut and handing it back to the young man. “Prendiamo due bicchieri del tuo cabernet sauvignon, per favore.” We’ll have two glasses of your cabernet sauvignon, please.

Luca nods as he accepts the menu, his eyes flickering to Y/N’s ruby lips yet again. That’s three times in the last ten minutes...not that the vampire’s counting or anything. 

“Ovviamente. Li prendo per te che scrivi.” Of course.  I’ll get those for you right away. The server answers politely before tucking the menu under his arm and hurrying off.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Y/N says the moment the waiter is gone, her eyes alight with amusement as she pulls her hand from Harry’s to take a sip of her ice water. “But I can’t ignore it.”

Clearing his throat as he reaches for a slice of garlic bread, Harry slinks his head to the side before answering. “Ignore what?” He asks offhandedly, taking a bite of his bread and chewing it slowly.  Had Luca’s fascination with her crimson smile not gone unnoticed?  Or had Harry’s aggravation begun to show on his face?

“The Italian.” Y/N admits, setting her glass down and sitting forward as she rests her bent elbows on the table, propping her head upon her interlocked fingers. “I feel a bit left out, and, truthfully, a little jealous.  I want to learn.”

A playful laugh echoes from Harry’s throat as he taps a ringed finger against the table. “I can’t exactly teach you an entire language over one dinner, sweetheart.  I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“Hm.  I know.  It’s tragic.” Y/N sighs, giggling quietly at the way Harry’s laughter cuts off completely and is replaced with a wounded sound of protest. “But what about some important phrases?  Just so I’m not in the dark all evening while you play Roman Holiday?”

Harry prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright.  Why don’t we start with Mi dispiace?”

“Mi dispiace.” Y/N repeats slowly, trying her best to wrap her red lips around the Italian diction. “What does that mean?”

“It means ‘I’m sorry’, which one could say in reference to, oh, I don’t know…” Harry shrugs lightly, matching the motion with a theatrical dejected sigh. “Insinuating that your date is without certain… talents?”

Although Y/N laughs again, she reaches across the table and wraps her hand around Harry’s, trying to tamp down the mirth in her voice when she replies. “Mi dispiace.” She repeats again, giving Harry her best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“That’s passable, I suppose.” Harry props his chin up in his palm, rubbing his thumb over his pillowy lips in thought. “And then we have ti perdono— I forgive you.”

“How kind of you, Mr. Styles.” Y/N simpers, biting her tongue between her teeth to hold back more sounds of glee. “Give me another one.”

Harry regards her with a thoughtful air, his hand sliding from his mouth to his hair to tug on his styled curls before traveling back down to rest on the table. His voice comes out a tad deeper, a vein of sultriness running beneath it that she just barely detects. “Sei molto bella con quel vestito.”

One of the words tweaks Y/N’s memory from earlier, but she still traces a finger over Harry’s initial rings as she locks eyes with him expectantly. “What does that mean?”

Swiping his tongue over his lips, Harry peers at her through his thick lashes as he encircles his free hand around the stem of his water glass. “You look very beautiful in that dress.”

A pleasurable flush rolls through Y/N’s belly at the compliment.  No matter how many times Harry pays her a positive comment, she somehow always still feels a rush with each word that falls from his soft lips. “Thank you.” She mumbles shyly, tucking her thumb between Harry’s ring and pinkie finger. “I mean— grazie.” 

“Try saying it back to me.” Despite the encouraging words that are said under the guise of teaching, there’s an undercurrent of command that turns the satisfaction in Y/N’s tummy to anticipation. “Molto bella.”

The mortal’s eyes flicker between Harry’s own emerald irises and his mouth as he curls a ringed finger over her hand, stroking the icy digit over her heated skin. “Molto bella.” She repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Fantastico, tesoro.” The praise slips easily from his lips as he lets himself bask in the warmth her flesh brings to his. 

“‘Tesoro’,” Y/N repeats, a tinge of confusion settling onto her face. “What does that mean?”

“It’s, uh,” Harry scoffs to himself in realization, unaware he had even let the term fall from his mouth. “It— well, it means ‘treasure,’ but it’s kind of the Italian equivalent of ‘darling’.”

The vampire can hear the way Y/N’s heartbeat spikes, sending a new wave of blood to warm her cheeks. “That—” The human girl mimics the way he’d cleared his earlier as she reaches for her water glass. “That’s pretty.”

“It is, yeah.  You’ll probably be hearing it often.” Harry continues to drag the pad of his finger down the ridges of his lover’s knuckles as a fond smile crescents his Cupid’s bow. “And here’s another one you’ll be hearing often— piegarsi.”

Y/N pauses with her water raised halfway to her lips. “And what does that one mean?”

Harry waits until her mouth has reached the rim of the glass and she’s taken a sip of ice water. “Bend over.” 

The response is instantaneous, just as he’d imagined. The mortal chokes on her water, coughing up a storm as she quickly lowers the drink from her mouth, half bending over the table and yanking her hand from his as her cheeks light with fire. “Harry!” She gasps once she regains her breath, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone else at the restaurant overheard his lewd statement. 

“What?” He asks innocently, but quickly gives into snickering, his body curling over the table as he cackles. “I’m not wrong!  You really will be hearing it often, so you should know what it means!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to say it in public!” Y/N exclaims hotly, shooting him a look of irritated disbelief that’s exaggerated to hide the boiling that’s working its way into her stomach.

Still chuckling every few moments, Harry reaches for her hand once again, interlocking their fingers and bringing her palm to his mouth. “Alright,” He kisses her heated palm while gazing at her through half lidded eyes. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Mi dispiace, tesoro.”

Y/N purses her painted lips, but sighs in defeat after a few moments of Harry’s moony eyes boring into her own. “Fine.  I forgive you.  Ti perdono.”

Although the annoyance has faded from Y/N’s complexion, Harry still keeps her hand flushed to his lips, stamping kisses to a new area of skin with unpatterned frequency.  He’s not certain if her warmth is just her or the residual embarrassment, but he doesn’t care.  It’s just nice, he thinks, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles at Y/N from across the table.  It’s comfortable.

“I have your glasses of cabernet sauvignon, Mr. Styles.” Luca interrupts from beside Harry, who had been so focused on the feeling of Y/N skin against his that he hadn’t noticed the waiter’s return. 

Harry gently lowers Y/N’s hand from his mouth, setting her palm down on the table with care. “Grazie.” Harry says casually, straightening his posture to allow Luca to set the glasses down. 

Y/N does the same, offering the young server a thankful smile once again. “Grazie.” Her voice rings sweetly from behind her lips, her confidence more stable thanks to Harry’s miniature Rosetta Stone lecture. 

“Prego, signorina.” Luca matches the Italian easily, his eyebrows raising in hopeful shock. “Parli anche italiano?” Do you speak Italian, too?

The human girl’s eyes flick to Harry as her mouth falls open without sound, and the immortal reads the distress signal easily. 

“No, lei non—” He cuts himself off in the middle of the address to Luca when he remembers that Y/N doesn’t like being spoken for.  Harry redirects his attention back to her questioning eyes. “I mean— he asked if you speak Italian.”

Y/N gives Harry an appreciative smile before turning back to Luca, the expression turning apologetic. “No, I don’t.  I wish I did, though.”

“It’s a fairly easy language to learn.” Luca tucks his tray underneath his arm as he regards the girl timidly. “And your accent is wonderful already.”

Harry hides his smirk behind his wine glass, stifling the laugh that’s threatening to sound.  The server must be entranced by her beauty, he thinks, because that’s the most blatant lie Harry has heard in a long time.

Y/N, however, accepts the compliment with ease. “Thank you.  It’s not true, but I appreciate the effort to be kind.”

The tips of Luca’s ears redden as he laughs breathlessly. “Are you, um, ready to order?”

“Oh, uh—” Y/N drops her gaze to the unopened menu in front of her before offering an rueful glance at the waiter. “I still need a few minutes, I think.”

“That’s alright, take your time.  I’ll be back shortly.” Luca assures her, turning to Harry and giving one last nod of acknowledgement before leaving them again.

Despite already having the menu of the restaurant memorized, Harry slides the leatherbound cover open, dragging a ringed finger down the smooth pages as he feigns searching for a dish. “You know…” He flits his gaze to Y/N’s face as an amused grin begins to tug at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really not fair of you.”

Y/N looks up from her own opened menu the moment Harry speaks, a bemused shadow falling over her face. “What’s not fair of me?”

Harry reaches for his wine glass as he laughs gently, shaking his head before taking a small sip of the smooth cabernet. “Being so charming to Luca.  The poor boy looks like he’s going to pass out each time you speak to him.”

Her cherry lips curve into an exasperated smile as she rolls her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.” She states, turning her attention back down to the cursive menu. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Harry replies dryly, quirking an eyebrow as he sets his beverage back down on the table. “So you’re not noticing how his eyes are glued to your mouth every time you say something?”

“Nope,” Y/N pops her lips on the last consonant sound of the word as she reaches for her own wine glass. “Because it’s not happening.  We’re just talking, H.  He’s the waiter; he has to look at me.”

“Right.” Harry drags the word out, completely unconvinced. His own eyes glue to Y/N’s lips as they wrap around the edge of her glass, his throat growing slightly parched as he studies the way they curve in a manner that he deems practically flawless. “So do you think the way he’s staring at your tits is also in his job description, then?”

Y/N snorts at the snarky remark, lowering her glass to rest just in front of her chest. “You’re the one who picked out a dress with such a low neckline.” She unwraps her index finger from the wine glass to point it at him in an accusatory manner. “Why did you get it, then, if you didn’t want my tits out on display?”

Harry takes a swig of his own wine as he fights back a laugh at her bold statement. “Let me fill you in on a little secret, mi amore.” He says, lowering his voice and setting down his delicate glass with a muted thud. “The main reason I got it…” The vampire watches the way Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels the snakeskin tip of his boot brush against the back of her bare calf beneath the table. “Is because I’m curious to see what it would look like as a crumpled heap at the bottom of my staircase.”

The toe of his boot travels higher up her leg, circling around the bend of her knee before just barely grazing the soft flesh of her lower outer thigh.  Y/N does her best to control her breathing, but the effort is in vain when the cold metal zipper presses against her dimpled skin. 

“Harry…” His name leaves her crimson lips in a warning tone as she glances around the restaurant, eyeing the closest couple five tables away. 

“‘M excited to see it later, y’know? Been thinking about ripping it off ever since I zipped you into it.” Harry drags the toe of his boot back down her leg, coasting it lightly against her ribbon-wrapped ankle in small and concise motions. “But I suppose I’ll just have to be a bit more patient.  At least I’ll be seeing you like that; poor Luca could only dream of it.”

The human girl clears her throat quietly, taking another measured sip of her wine as she wills herself to steady. “The only thing poor about Luca is that he’s going to come back to the table and I still won’t know what I want.” She shifts her attention back to the open menu, ignoring the eye roll she receives from her lover across the table as she looks over the Italian in front of her. “I don’t know what any of this is.”

“Let me help, cara— which means, ‘dear,’ by the way.” Harry says in an amused voice, dropping his gaze to the cursive menu. “Do you want fish?  Pasta?  Red meat?  Chicken?”

“Maybe pasta.” Y/N murmurs in reply, running a finger down the booklet page as she reads over the Italian descriptions.  Her eyes catch the prices next to dishes, and she nearly gasps, but bites back the sound of surprise at the last moment.

“Alright…” Scanning down the pasta list, Harry bookmarks a few dishes he thinks Y/N may like. “You’d enjoy the ‘Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe’, I think.” He muses, rubbing a finger over his chin in thought. “Or the ‘Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto’.  That’s kind of like pasta— it’s a potato dumpling, and you can choose if you want a meat or gorgonzola sauce.”

“That sounds good.” Y/N finds the mentioned items on the menu, her eyes sweeping over the Italian descriptions to try and pick out the words Harry mentioned. “I think I’ll go with the last one, with the gorgonzola sauce.” Taking a sip of her wine to seal her decision, Y/N poses a question to Harry. “What are you thinking of having?”

“I’m not sure…” Harry lifts his shoulder in a careless shrug as he continues to scan the menu. “I have a few favourites, and those are always solid choices.  The lamb is quite good here; I haven’t had that in a while.”

As Harry peruses his decisions, Y/N begins to chew on the inside of her cheek, narrowly avoiding her habit of biting her lips and ruining the raspberry lacquer she’d painted on earlier as an idea forms in her head. 

“Harry,” She begins, waiting until he raises his jade eyes to meet hers before continuing. “When Luca comes back over…” The girl chooses her words carefully, doing her best to voice her question in the most understandable way. “Could you order for me?”

Just as she suspected he might, Harry rests his menu back down against the table, giving his whole attention to Y/N as his brows furrow. “You want me to order for you?” He asks, confusion threaded through his accent as his mind flips back to their first date, when Y/N had nearly skinned him alive for attempting to do just that. “Why?”

She shifts in her seat under his hot gaze, her own eyes dropping to her lap as her cheeks sear. “It’s— It’s in Italian, so it’ll probably be easier if you say it.”

Harry shakes his head in disagreement as he tries to reassure his date. “No, doll, it’s alright if you say it in English.  Luca will get it.  And if worse comes to worse—” He cracks a smile, tapping a bejeweled finger against the booklet. “Y’can just point.  He’ll get the gist.”

Despite the solutions offered, Y/N continues to shift around, her foot bumping against Harry’s boot as a soft sigh falls from her lips.  She’d hoped Harry would’ve just accepted the request on her first try, but he seems determined not to repeat his mistake from their first date, which means Y/N has to get a lot more honest.

“No, H, I want…” She purses her lips as she twists her fingers around the stem of her wine glass, gently swirling the dark liquid inside. “I want you to order for me.”

The smile on his face darkens into a befuddled expression. “I mean, I can,” Harry says slowly, closing the menu and sliding it onto the table as he appraises the girl across from him. “But I’m a little confused on your reasoning.  Last time I tried to order for you, you said I was trying to make decisions for you—”

“And you were,” Y/N can’t help but to defend herself, flashing a stormy look at Harry from beneath her lashes. “That’s why I’m telling you what I’d like now.”

Harry’s mouth gapes open as he stares at Y/N with a blank expression.  A scoffing laugh finally falls from his lips as he shakes his head again, reaching for his wine and bringing the glass to his lips. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met, d’you know that?”

Y/N lets a beat of silence fall between them as she rethinks her question and how best to phrase it in a way that still lets her feel like she’s living in the twenty-first century. “I mean I— you said that it was polite, right?  At that brunch.  Your mom taught you it was a sign of respect.” Her eyes fall to the opal ring sitting on his pinky, sparkling in the candlelight like it always does.

Harry lowers his glass, watching Y/N with a guarded gaze. “Yeah.” He murmurs, licking his lips once as he places his cup back on the table. “She did, yeah.”

“And you’ve gone to a lot of trouble tonight— the dress, the reservation, everything— and I just— I wanted to—” The more Y/N tries to articulate her thoughts, the more tangled her thoughts become, and she sucks in a harsh breath of frustration. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Although Harry has a suspicion about her meaning, he doesn’t try to finish her sentence.  The last thing he wants to do is make Y/N feel like he’s trying to speak over her. “It’s alright.” He says instead, snaking his hand across the table to weave her fingers through his. “Take your time, tesoro.”

Heeding his advice, Y/N takes a moment to just focus on the feeling of Harry’s cool fingers wrapped around hers, and allows her thoughts to gather themselves together on their own.  When she tries again, her speech is hesitant, but less frustrated than before.

“I think I… understand you more now.” She mumbles the words, keeping her eyes glued to the shining stones that adorn Harry’s rings. “When you do things that I’m not used to… I know you’re doing them out of kindness, and not because you think I’m incapable.” Raising her stare to meet Harry’s entrancing emerald eyes, Y/N takes a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve done a lot to make me comfortable, and I appreciate it, so… I want to do something for you.  It’s no Gucci dress—” Y/N laughs breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again as her intent flickers away from Harry’s own for just a moment before— to his relief— returning. “— but you were taught it was a sign of respect, like opening a door, or pulling out a chair.  So if you want to order for me… you can.” She finishes in a quiet voice. “If you’d like to.”

A slow smile spreads over Harry’s strawberry lips as Y/N wraps up her speech. “Really?” He asks, his voice hushed with delight. “And you won’t accuse me of treating you like you’re incapable?”

Y/N’s eyes flash to him in a darkened glare, but her tone holds a jesting bite. “Not unless you piss me off.”

A soft exhale of air leaves Harry’s nostrils, the beginnings of a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He quips in return, catching Luca’s eye over Y/N’s shoulder as the waiter approaches the table again.

Although his body is turned towards Harry, Luca’s eyes canvas Y/N once more, the action bolder this time as his irises spend longer resting on her cleavage after observing her tinted pout.  The lengthened look grates against Harry’s nerves, and he clears his throat in a slightly irritated manner to call the young man’s attention back his way.

“Oh, uhm—” Luca’s ears redden as he turns back to Harry, clearing his throat as he steadies himself. “Sei pronto per ordinare, signor Styles?” Are you ready to order, Mr. Styles?

“Sì,” Harry replies curtly, tapping his thumb against Y/N’s soft hand. “Y/N vorrebbe gli Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto con la salsa al gorgonzola, e io prendo il filet mignon, cotto raro, per favore.” Y/N will have the Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto with the gorgonzola sauce, and I’ll have the filet mignon, cooked rare, please. He says smoothly, and he can’t deny the satisfied pleasure that curls inside his belly when he sees the gentle eyes Y/N gives him across the table.

Luca nods once as he takes the menus from the two of them, careful to keep his eyes away from Y/N’s mouth as he gathers her leatherbound copy and scuttles off to submit their orders to the kitchen.

“Okay.” Y/N says reluctantly, squeezing Harry’s hand within her own with a sigh as she watches the waiter disappear. “I will admit, I did notice his eyes drifting a little low there.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Harry asks, eyes widening in dramatized disbelief.  He wills himself to keep a triumphant grin off his face, but knows he doesn’t quite succeed. “Did you just admit I was right?  Did that just happen?”

“Oh, shut up.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N shakes her head as she takes another bite of garlic bread, her tongue poking from her mouth to catch a crumb at the corner of her lip. “If you’re going to act like such a child, I’ll take it back.”

Harry brings her knuckles to his mouth, brushing them against his lips in a tender motion. “I’m just trying to savour the moment, angel.” His cool breath crawls over her skin, eliciting a shiver from the human girl that he adores. “Who knows when I’ll get to experience it again.”

“Never, if I have any say in it.”

“Should we ask Luca to weigh in on this little debate, too? You know, since he’s practically as acquainted with you as I am.” 

“Bite me.”

The monster’s dimples wink at the irony of her insult, and his voice carries a knowing edge that only he can decipher. “Don’t I always?”

They fall into their usual rhythm after that, easily discussing what each of them had been up to throughout the week during their gaps away from the other.  Those gaps, Harry realizes as he listens to a work story from Y/N, are becoming shorter and shorter. He’d swung by Y/N’s cafe for lunch on Thursday to order a mediocre at best sandwich, and indulge in a far from mediocre makeout session in the back of his car.  And watching Y/N hurriedly tighten her ponytail while she stumbled away from his Cadillac, cheeks flaming as she nearly ran to the employee entrance around the back of the building before her break ended, had prompted Harry to call her that night for a long overdue phone sex session.  

Even after they had both helped the other reach climax, and post-orgasm photos had been sent (Harry had received a picture of Y/N stretched out on her bed, her face visibly heated and chest sweaty as she wore nothing but his “enjoy health” t-shirt, and in return, he’d sent a snapshot of his cum-covered abdomen, fingers resting delicately at the edge of his butterfly tattoo), the vampire and human had stayed on the line as they both caught their breath.  Harry had followed the nude photo with a picture of him posing with a glass of water and a thumbs up, smiling grandly amidst his colored cheeks and sweaty curls, captioning it “Make sure to hydrate after a workout!” The energy it took to take the self-timed photo was worth it when he’d heard Y/N’s laugh tumble out from the opposite end of the line. 

It’s the same carefree laugh that she’s trying to stifle now, her hand pressed over her mouth and nose as her eyes send an apologetic glance at Luca setting her plate of gnocchi down in front of her.

“Thank you, Luca,” She manages to choke out, wiping her eyes with the edge of her thumb to stop the saltwater threatening to rush down her heated cheeks. “It looks delicious.”

Harry nods in agreement as the waiter sets his own dish in front of him, his mischievous smirk still shining at Y/N from across the table. “Grazie.” He says as he curls his lips around his newly topped off wine glass.

Y/N bites her tongue to hold back the continuous laughter that’s on the verge of bursting from her chest like a dam.  With every moment Harry keeps his eyes locked on hers, the human girl has to press her lips harder and harder together, and barely manages to wait until Luca has left them again to release the wave of giggles that crest out of her chest.

“Something amusing?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he sets his glass down, hardly able to hold back his own laughter as couples seated away from them begin to take notice of the boisterous sounds.

“You—” Y/N sucks in a ragged breath, half snorting once more as she manages to calm herself enough to take a small sip of wine.  The liquid soothes the raw ache in her throat that is practically raw from the convulsed snickers. “You did not say that to him!”

“I did.” Harry answers smugly, adjusting the napkin covering the light grey fabric stretched over his lap before picking up his knife and fork. “He was too certain that no girl had ever faked it with him just because of a leg shake.  I couldn’t let him live in that delusion; it’d be a crime, really.  Just plain cruel.”

“Oh, right, like telling your friend that all the girls he’s been with have been faking it isn’t cruel?” She gently sets down her wine glass at the edge of her plate as she voices the retort, shaking her head in disbelief. “Poor Niall.”

“Not Poor Niall!  I was trying to help him!” Despite the claim, Harry can’t stop himself from chuckling out the words. “How’s he going to fix his ways if he doesn’t know anything is wrong?”

“Alright, so riddle me this, then, Dr. Phil.” Y/N picks up her fork, spearing a piece of gnocchi and holding the chunk above her plate as she issues her challenge to Harry. “How did you become the expert in whether or not a girl is faking it?  Do you have a lot of experience with that?”

“Not in the slightest.  I think you know that much.” Just as he did before, Harry begins to slide the tip of his boot up Y/N’s calf, relishing in the slight hitch in her breath and stutter of her heart. “If I’m an expert in anything, it’s how to make someone cum until their legs actually shake.  That’s why I can tell the fake from the real.”

Y/N takes a deep breath through her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment as she forms a coherent reply. “I guess I do know that.” She relents, opening her eyes just in time to see the simper that’s growing again across Harry’s face as he continues to rub up and down her leg with his shoe.  Y/N lifts her fork, carefully slipping the sauce-covered gnocchi into her mouth. “But Niall doesn’t— holy shit.” The mortal gasps as the flavours burst across her tongue, the perfect mix of savoury and salty and drenched in decadence.

“It’s good, innit?” Harry pokes his cheek with his tongue as he slices off a corner of his steak, checking the rarity of the meat before bringing it to his mouth. “There’s a reason this is my favourite restaurant, and it’s not just Vincenzo.”

“It’s fucking delicious.” Y/N can’t think to censor herself as she meticulously chews and swallows the bite, savouring every second before poking another gnocchi onto her fork. “I understand the price now.  It’s still outrageous, but I get it.”

Harry watches the way Y/N’s lashes flutter as she chews her bites, and the satisfaction growing in his belly increases. “High quality is worth paying for.” He states, slicing off another portion of steak. 

Y/N nods slowly, swallowing the food before pointing the prongs of her fork at Harry’s plate. “How’s your filet mignon?” She asks, spearing another bite of gnocchi onto the utensil. “Worth the price point?”

Dragging the bite on his fork through the sauce that’s pooled on his plate, Harry beckons her forward as he extends the piece towards her. “Open your mouth and find out.”

There’s something about the way that Y/N immediately obeys the command— setting down her own fork and leaning across the table to wrap her lips around Harry’s— that sends a shiver down his spine.  With her mouth closed, she slides the cut of beef off the silverware and leans back in her seat, chewing thoughtfully with a contemplative look on her face. 

A drop of sauce is smeared from the bite, dripping from the edge of her mouth, and although it goes unnoticed by Y/N, it’s all Harry can see as he watches her savor the bite of food.  He leans forward more, collecting the droplet on the pad of his thumb, which he brings to his mouth and licks off casually before settling back in his chair.

“Like it, tesoro?” He asks, an expectant look glinting in his eye as he slices off another bite for himself. 

Y/N cocks her head to the side as she swallows, trying her best to focus on the flavour and not the way Harry had been so careful not to smear her lipstick as he touched her. “I like the sauce.  It’s sweet, but has a bit of a kick to it.  The steak, however…” She wrinkles her nose the slightest bit. “It’s a little too rare for my taste, I think.  I’m not really a fan of anything bloody.”

Harry curls his tongue inside his mouth as he allows himself a single laugh. “No?” He questions, spearing a piece of meat and sliding it past his lips. “I can’t say the same.  I like my steaks cooked rare.  The bloodier, the better.” 

“I bet you’re one of those weirdos who orders blue steak, huh?” Y/N asks, taking a gulp of her wine to wash out the taste of the meat. “Like, still cold in the middle, and looking practically raw…”

“Oh, no.  Not at all.” Harry’s chuckles increase, and he has to hide them behind a false cough to stop himself from drawing more attention. “It tastes much better if the meal is warm.”

Although Y/N doesn’t grasp the full meaning behind his words— and thank God she doesn’t, Harry thinks, because she’d probably run screaming from the restaurant— she hums in acknowledgement as she swirls the wine around her glass.

“But you’re enjoying your meal, right?” Harry changes the subject swiftly, deciding he’s indulged his one-sided humour long enough. “I have no problem sending it back if it’s not to your liking.”

The human’s eyes widen as she swiftly sets down her glass, shaking her head at the question. “No, no, it’s delicious!  Probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten, honestly.” She collects another bit on her fork, twirling the potato dumpling through the gorgonzola sauce before motioning to Harry. “Wanna try?”

When Harry nods in response, they slip back into their former position, both of them leaning forward in their seats to meet in the middle of the table.  Y/N slips the fork into his mouth, feeling the resistance as Harry’s white teeth meet the strong metal of the cutlery. 

Just as had happened to her a few moments prior, a small droplet of sauce gathers at the corner of Harry’s mouth as she pulls her fork away.  Y/N collects the sauce with her thumb as Harry had as well, but before she can sit herself back in her chair, Harry captures her wrist within his cool hand. 

Keeping his canopy green eyes locked with hers, the creature slips her thumb into his mouth, licking the remnants of the bite off the digit with his slick tongue.  His boot continues its climb up her leg, just barely reaching her thigh again before traveling back down to plant itself firmly onto the floor of the restaurant.

A quiet gasp leaves Y/N’s mouth as Harry lulls his tongue around her thumb one last time, and the barely audible sound raises his strawberry lips into a hint of a grin as he extracts the finger from his mouth.  With his hand still wrapped around her wrist, Harry brings her open palm forward and plants a delicate kiss to the center of her hand.

“That’s quite good.” Harry finally says nonchalantly, attentively setting Y/N’s hand back down on the table and releasing her wrist from his grasp. “I’ll have to try it the next time we come.”

Y/N struggles to regulate her breathing as she retracts her hand from the table, setting it down in her lap as her fingers involuntarily clench into her heated thigh. “Um, yeah.” She wisps, clearing her throat once as she reaches for a slice of garlic bread. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s really good.  The sauce is— it has a nice balance to it, I think, with the thyme…”

“I agree.” Harry wipes his wet finger off on the napkin laying over his thigh. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you, pet?”

“You would know.” Y/N huffs snidely, cheeks blazing as she reaches for her wine again to extract a heavy gulp of the liquor.  

In the moments of silence that fall between them, Y/N allows herself to canvas the restaurant, observing the interactions of those around her.  True to Vincenzo’s promise of a private spot, the couples nearest to them are all at least five tables away, and partially hidden from view because of the positioning of their corner booth.  However, Y/N’s sharp eyes don’t miss how every formally-dressed staff member, from servers to busboys and hosts, cast their eyes in Harry’s direction each time they pass by.  Some even whisper to their coworkers as they turn the corner, their gazes always lingering on Harry with a mix of awe and wonder.

“Have you noticed how all the staff here watch you?” Y/N asks as she catches the eye of a passing waitress, who offers her a tense smile before sliding her stare towards Harry. 

“Do they?” Harry replies curiously, raising his wine glass to his lips as he lightly shrugs. “I’ve never paid much attention to it.”

“I think Vincenzo’s given them all the update on the prestigious British bachelor, Harry Styles.” Y/N pokes fun, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully as she contemplates Harry with an observant eye. “Or maybe they’ve all just noticed the ridiculous amount of designer labels you insist on wearing.” She teases him with a playful grin, tapping a finger against the Gucci cufflinks on his sleeves. “I feel a bit like a celebrity.”

A modest laugh breaks past Harry’s lips as he lowers the glass, keeping his ringed fingers twisted around the stem. “In my experience, I’ve found you’re treated best when you treat the staff best.  I tip well, so I receive better service.  When I receive better service, I tip more.  It’s a bit of a cycle, isn’t it?” He asks rhetorically, the tip of his boot once again exploring the soft skin of Y/N’s bare leg. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.  I thought I’d test the waters tonight and see how well you like the high life before I arrange anything more… extravagant.”

“More extravagant?” Y/N laughs at the idea, propping her elbow on the table and plopping her chin in her hand as her eyebrows raise. “What could possibly be more extravagant than a Gucci cocktail dress, Loubotin heels, and a fifty dollar pasta dish?”

The answer rolls off Harry’s tongue immediately, slathered in a jesting, matter-of-fact tone. “A trip to the Bahamas, obviously.”

Although Y/N’s eyes widen slightly at the comment, it’s not long before she giggles softly, the wine beginning to twist its way through her system.  Harry can smell the way her lavender and honey scent is intertwined with the dark, fruity notes of the liquor, but even if he couldn’t, it would be obvious in the way she draws towards him with a tender smile on her face.  Despite the dewy appearance of her skin amidst the lulled candlelight, it’s the genuine warmth behind Y/N’s eyes that makes Harry feel like her gaze could thaw the ice from his long-frozen limbs.

It’s that warmth that brings Harry to reach over the table after Luca has cleared their bare plates and refilled their glasses, dragging his hands across the linen tablecloth with his palms turned upwards.  He just can’t ever seem to stifle the need to touch her.

The motion is a quiet question in itself, and Y/N gives the desired answer when she fills his empty grasp with her own palms, automatically tangling her bare fingers with Harry’s jeweled digits. For a moment, Harry just sits there, thumbing over her fragile knuckles in the way he’s grown so accustomed to doing, basking in the heat that congregates in his chest and gives him the feeling that he’s glowing.  He almost hates to break the perfect silence between them, which is so understanding, but he’s been thinking about his words too carefully to swallow them back.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me take you out.” He says, his voice gentle and low, a far cry from his usual cocky drawl. “It’s…It’s been a really long time since I’ve done something like this with anyone, let alone had this much fun doing it.” He takes a quiet breath through barely parted lips. “It’s nice.”

His ears prick with the sound of Y/N’s hummingbird heartbeat thrumming in her chest, the pattern bringing an ache to his tummy in an entirely new way, but the ache is quickly soothed by the soft smile that adorns her crimson lips.

“It’s…It’s been a while for me, as well.  Which you know.” She laughs airily, but is too entranced by the vivid color of Harry’s eyes to tear her gaze away. “I’m having fun, too.  I’m glad— I mean—”

Harry continues to rub over her knuckles patiently, keeping his touch as gentle as she is, making sure to gift her an instance to collect her thoughts.

“I’ll admit, I was… worried at first.  When we started to go on actual dates.” The mortal takes a deep breath through her nose, but it hardly calms her down as she inhales the vanilla and tobacco scent of Harry’s cologne. “We were doing so well with just sex, y’know?  And I was worried that adding more would… ruin it.”

The faint grin playing on the edge of Harry’s mouth disappears, and a chill runs through his bones at the possibility of what they have dismantling at the seams. “But it hasn’t… Has it?”

The seconds Harry spends waiting for an answer is agony, but the relief is instantaneous when Y/N replies in a bashful voice. “No.” She whispers, her gaze faltering down to her lap before raising back to him. “It hasn’t.”

“I feel like…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, nearly forgetting to be mindful of his strength so as to not break his skin. “I feel like it’s made things better, even.  Like… like we work better together, yeah?” He clears his throat gingerly as nerves begin to dip into his dormant veins.  He knows he’s treading on dangerously thin ice, and he’s never been more at risk of plunging into the freezing depths below, but he can’t make himself return to shore.  Not now. “Not that we weren’t working well before, because we were.  We were working really well— incredibly well.  But I just feel like tacking on this little bit of extra stuff makes everything more fulfilling.”

A wry smile breaks across Y/N’s face. “Right, because who doesn’t love getting wined and dined before getting their back done in?” She jokes easily, and Harry snorts in spite of himself, grateful for how she always manages to save him from making an ass of himself.

“I just really like spending time with you, I guess.” He squeezes her hands within his own before the sincere moment disappears. “It feels natural.  Really natural.”

“It does.  And while we’re confessing our innermost confessions over garlic bread…” The mortal purses her lips as a sparkle appears in her eyes, glinting at Harry like the North Star. “I want you to know how grateful I am for what we have.  I was feeling really lonely and out of place when we met, and running into you…” Y/N hesitates for a fraction of a instant, just long enough for Harry’s own breathing to catch. “It really helped me get back on my feet.  It’s just nice to have someone who I mesh with so well, especially after such a big move and everything, so…” A new wave of heat works its way over the apples of her cheeks. “I suppose this is a bit of a ‘thank you’.  Thanks for coming up to me that night at the club.”

Harry’s lips quirk at the corners as the tender confession settles into his chest. “Thank you for letting me chat you up.  It was a two way street, love.  Although—” His signature smirk begins to make a reappearance. “It’s not like I had to try very hard— you practically drooled the second you laid your eyes on me.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open indignantly as she yanks her hands back from his, rolling her eyes heavily while smoothing the hem of her dress. “Alright, that’s enough.  Moment over, dickhead.  Go back to sipping your wine and looking hot in your suit in silence.”

Although Harry obeys her order and picks up his wine glass with nimble fingers, his eyes grow teasingly large over the rim, accent dripping with faux shock. “You think I’m hot?”

“I’d hope you know that,” Y/N says cooly as she grasps the stem of her own glass. “I don’t let just anyone choke me.”

It’s Harry’s turn to cough on his liquor as he registers the comment, and he struggles not to spill the dark liquid down the front of his brand new suit as he barks out a laugh.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he says after he swallows the drink, setting his glass back down on the table firmly. “I don’t let just anyone use my jacuzzi whenever they want.”

“Right, right, because you allowing me to use your hot tub is equivalent to me letting you wrap your fingers around my throat.” Y/N snorts, drumming her digits against the table top. “Practically identical.”

Harry snakes his hand across the table and cards their grips once more, squeezing her fingers playfully as he taps against her knuckles. “It’s not like you complain while it’s happening.”

“Only because it’s hard to talk when my air flow is restricted.”

“Really?  Because you still manage to moan just fine.”

Harry delights in the way her eyes hurriedly dash to the other diners, her heartbeat stuttering in her heaving chest.  He likes that he can still get a rise out of her with his crude jokes, even after all he’s said to her.

“Christ, Harry, lower your voice!  Don’t let anyone hear you!” Y/N protests, cupping a hand over her sizzling cheek.

“No one can hear me, love.” He chuckles lightly as he reassures her with another squeeze of her fingers. “S’why I always request a private table.”

“Oh, so you have a pattern, then?” She quirks an eyebrow at the comment. “Do you bring women here that often to discuss choking?  So much that you need a private table?”

Although there’s a mocking air to her words, Harry’s laugh cuts off. “No.  I don’t.”

Y/N hums in the back of her throat as she raises her wine glass to her lips. “I don’t believe you.  I think I’ll ask Vinzenco on our way out.  He seems like an honest man.”

Cool relief flushes through Harry’s body, but he hides it behind an incredulous gasp. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re interested in him.  Do you want Vincenzo to choke you instead?” His face breaks into a look of exaggerated disbelief tinged with fake disgust. “He’s married, you tramp!”

Y/N can’t help but laugh when Harry yanks his hand away from hers, pretending to wipe it on his napkin while gagging, as if touching her is a horrendous act. 

“I hate you.” She giggles, shaking her head slowly. 

“I promise you that no matter how much you hate me, Vincenzo’s wife would hate you tenfold.” Harry shakes out his hand before setting it back down on the table. 

“Don’t worry.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the exaggeration. “I don’t plan on breaking up a marriage tonight.”

“How gracious of you.” Harry murmurs, but he leans forward with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shamelessly canvasses Y/N’s body. “You could, you know.  Vincenzo is only a man.  Look how you had Poor Luca drooling tonight.  You in that dress…” He settles his eyes on her prominent cleavage. “Y’look like Aphrodite, almost.”

Despite the heat that flashes over Y/N’s entire body, she keeps her voice dry when she responds. “I don’t know about that; this isn’t much of a grecian look.”

“Well…” A grin creeps onto Harry’s face, igniting his jade irises with humour. “You look like Aphrodite if Aphrodite was a twenty-first century sugar baby.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open before she spits out an indignant reply. “I’m not a sugar baby!”

“Sorry, who bought you that dress?”

“That doesn’t count—”

“And who do you call ‘daddy’?”

Harry can hear the way blood rushes to her cheeks, and it sends a delicious shiver down his spine. 

Y/N, however, glares up at him through her thick lashes, her hands twisting the cloth napkin in her lap. “You’re a prick.”

“I’m simply stating facts, darling.” Harry sighs lightly, ducking one of his hands underneath the table and reaching to give her bare knee a squeeze.  He revels in the way she jumps at his touch. “And I’ve got videos of you whimpering that over and over to prove it.”

“If you keep this up,” Y/N says, forcing her voice to stay steady as she nods to his grasp on her skin. “You won’t be getting any more of them.”

“Is that so?” Harry’s hand travels further up her leg, the metal of his rings icy against the heated flesh of her inner thighs. “Guess you won’t be getting any more videos of me playing with myself either, then.  Fair’s fair.”

The whimper that falls from Y/N’s lips is so quiet that if Harry were human, he wouldn’t have been able to detect it. “Harry—” 

“You don’t like that, do you?” He taunts lowly, continuing to rub over her thigh as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “The idea of me taking that away? Of never seeing me lose myself for you on video ever again?”

Y/N clears her throat thickly. “N-No.”

“I didn’t think so.” With his free hand, Harry lifts his wine to his lips, taking a long sip as his darkened eyes stay locked to hers. “So you’d better behave for me then, hm?”

Despite the electrifying way her entire body is starting to fizzle, Y/N still manages to choke out an amused scoff. “You’re starting to sound like a cheap porno, H.  Be careful.”

“Careful?  You want to be careful?” Harry asks, eyebrows poised as he digs his fingertips into the meaty flesh of her thigh. “Alright.”

In one fast motion, Harry snakes his hand completely up Y/N’s dress to cup over her lace-covered cunt, running the pads of his fingers over the dampening cloth.  He hooks one finger into the side of the lace and gives a sharp yank, and although Y/N’s not sure how he does it, or how Harry attained the sudden rush of strength needed to do so, she feels the delicate fabric rip right down the center. 

Before she can even process what’s happened, the act is over as quickly as it started as Harry settles back into his seat, eyebrows cocked in a conceited fashion as he watches her assess the new issue. 

“You’ll have to be careful now, won’t you, minx?  Gonna have t’keep your legs closed like a proper good girl— which I know is hard for you whenever I’m around.” He teases, his hand still clenched under the table as the other raises his glass to his strawberry lips. “Otherwise we might have a little mishap, hm?”

Y/N’s breath stutters in her pounding chest as she clenches her thighs as tight as she can. “You didn’t.”

Raising his hand from beneath the table, Harry opens his palm for just a moment, flashing her the scrap of black lace that had once been her panties before coasting his hand beneath his jacket and tucking the article into his pocket. “Didn't I?”

“Harry!” Y/N hisses, her voice dangerously low as she leans over the table. 

“Yes?” He replies innocently, wrapping his hand firmly around his glass. “Something the matter?”

Y/N gapes at the man across from her in disbelief. “You’re such a dick, you know that?” 

“I promise you, I’m well aware.” Harry laughs lightly as he polishes off the last of his wine. “But it’s not like you don’t like it.  You wouldn’t bounce on my cock if you didn’t.”

Sucking in a harsh breath through her teeth, Y/N clenches the tight satin of her dress in her fists. “God, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Yeah?” Harry quirks an eyebrow with a cocky smirk. “Good luck trying to catch me without flashing your entire arse to the kitchen staff.”

“I swear on my life, I’m going to rip off your—” 

“Ciao, Harry! Bella donna!” Vincenzo’s voice cuts over Y/N’s thinly-veiled threat as he approaches the table with arms wide and a smile pasted onto his face. “Come trovi tutto? Possiamo portarti dell'altro vino? La carta dei dolci?” How are you finding everything?  Can we get you more wine?  The dessert menu?

“È tutto delizioso, Vincenzo, grazie.” Everything is delicious, Vincenzo, thank you. Harry drawls, his grin growing as he turns to Y/N with a condescending tilt of his head. “What do you think, tesoro?  Are you in the mood for dessert?  Or have you had enough?”

Y/N’s mouth is too dry for her to answer, especially with the way Harry’s irises twinkle suggestively at his own words, so she finishes the last dregs of her wine before shaking her head tightly. “No— no dessert for me, thanks.”

Vincenzo heaves a dramatic gasp as he turns his full attention to her. “Bella donna, what is this?  Surely you want to try our dessert?  Even just some homemade gelato?”

“Oh, no, Vincenzo, thank you, but I don’t think I could squeeze any more food into my stomach.” Y/N fights to keep herself from sounding flustered, but she knows it’s a losing battle when she hears Harry mutter something about how wonderful she is at squeezing under his breath.

Vincenzo clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, twisting his astonished gaze back to Harry. “Harry, per favore, sicuramente puoi convincere il tuo appuntamento a mangiare un boccone di dessert? È sulla casa.” Harry, please, surely you can convince your date to have a bite of dessert?  It’s on the house.

The vampire presses his tongue into his cheek as he appraises Y/N again, the clenching of her abdomen drawing his eye more than anything else. Harry uses the tip of his boot to once again trail up the back of her calf beneath the tablecloth, giving her a wicked grin. “You’re sure you don’t want anything else, tesoro?”

Y/N jerks her head once more as a shadow crosses over her eyes. “No, thank you.” She reiterates in a strained voice.

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Harry twists to face Vincenzo again, voice surrendered. “Grazie per l'offerta, Vincenzo, ma sembra che stiamo bene. Accettiamo solo il conto, per favore.” Thank you for the offer, Vincenzo, but it looks like we’re fine.  We’ll just take the check, please.

The restaurant owner sighs in disappointment, but nods in acceptance. “Va bene, va bene, solo l'assegno. Ma la prossima volta che torni, mi amore,” Vincenzo shifts his attention back to Y/N, who meets his smile as best as she can. “Dovrai provare due dolci per compensare la mancanza di uno stasera, vero?” Okay, okay, just the check.  But next time you come back, my love, you’ll have to try two desserts to make up for the lack of one tonight, yes?

Harry leans across the table and whispers the translation low in her ear, his cool breath sending a shiver down her spine as it rolls over her body.

“Yes, Vincenzo.  Next time.” Y/N promises quickly, clasping her hands tightly around the hem of her tight dress as the thigh slit begins to ride up.

Vincenzo motions over his shoulder for Luca to bring the check, chatting happily to Harry in Italian throughout the whole transaction.  Y/N stays quiet the entire time, instinctively hiding her boiling cheeks behind her hands each time one of them casts a glance her way.  Despite the nerves wreaking havoc in her belly, Harry continues to make casual conversation as he swipes his credit card, laughing and joking with Vincenzo like he has all the time in the world.  By the time the restaurant owner bids them both goodbye, Y/N’s certain she’s sweated well through the thin fabric of her dress from her nerves.

Harry, however, looks perfectly at ease as he tucks his wallet back into his suit jacket. “You handled that well, doll.  ‘M proud of you.” He says easily, rubbing a finger down the condensation dotting his glass of ice water. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” Y/N hisses at him, clenching her thighs together as another waiter passes dangerously close to their table. “How am I supposed to walk out of here without anyone noticing?”

“Like this.” Harry rises from the table and extends a hand to Y/N, who eyes it warily from her seated position. “C’mon, love, you’re going to have to trust me.” He goads her with a sigh, wiggling his fingers until Y/N gives in and settles her palm inside his.

Making sure his own body is hiding Y/N from the line of sight of anyone else, Harry helps pull his lover from her chair before removing his jacket with one swift motion.  He settles the rich grey fabric over her bare shoulders, draping the article in such a way that it covers the deep thigh slit that exposes her bare skin. 

“How’s that?” Harry asks lowly, voice tender as he fixes the collar of the jacket around Y/N’s delicate neck. “S’that better?”

The moment Harry’s familiar and intoxicating cologne fills her senses, all the irritation evaporates from Y/N’s veins, leaving behind only the quiet thrum of attraction that’s intensified by the man’s fragrance. 

“Yeah.” She whispers, the cadence of her voice nearing shyness as Harry tugs a lock of hair from underneath the collar of the jacket. “It’s a bit better.”

“Good.” The vampire leans down and stamps his lips to the girl’s forehead, letting his mouth linger for a few seconds before straightening up. “I promise I won’t let anyone see anything.  And even if someone does see something, as long as you’re with me, nobody will say a word.”

Y/N nods gently as Harry grasps her hand in his own to lead her out of the restaurant and back to his car. “Alright.  I trust you.”

That warmth from earlier begins to spread through Harry’s chest again the moment she utters the words. “I’m glad to hear that.” He snakes his hand inside the jacket, brushing his fingertips against her breast before dipping his hand into the pocket.  When he withdraws it, the lace of her ripped panties is visible for only a moment before he tucks it into the back of his slacks with a smirk. “These are mine now. A little spoil of war for my trophy case.”

Despite his protective stance around her as he begins to weave the two of them through tables, Y/N scoffs at the action. “I still can’t believe you did that, you asshole.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole?” Harry glances over his shoulder as he quirks an eyebrow teasingly. “Alright, then.  I can just drop you back off at your apartment, if you’d like.  Go back to my place alone tonight. Gonna have to unbutton my trousers on my own, and peel this nice shirt off by myself, and crawl in between my sheets rather than in between your thighs. Such a shame.”

Y/N can’t stop the whine that echoes the back of her throat. “No, H—”

“That’s what I thought.” Harry steps back from her just enough to tug open the glass front door of the restaurant, his eyes already settling on the valet.  When he speaks, however, it’s just for her to hear, and her alone. It sends a current of anticipation through her veins as it washes across the shell of her ear, his breath smelling of sweet grapes and notes of cherry from their wine, thick with the tangy scent of liquor and cooler than usual from the chilled beverage. Despite that coldness, his next promise settles into her exposed core with a familiar heat that she knows only he can resolve.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet. It’s gonna be a long night.” 

[nxrdist]

𝕺𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞||TLK Fic|| FinanxOC||Three

AN: Hey! I just want to give a big thanks to everyone who has left feedback and read so far! Sorry that there’s not a whole lot of Finan in this chapter. I’m trying to bridge the gap between the end of Season Two and the beginning of The Burning Land here. I hope we're all staying safe and healthy :)

Taglist: @lauwrite1225  let me know if you wanted to be tagged for updates!

||Masterlist||

Summary: Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.

chapter warning: minor description of ancient medical practices

Words:2471

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It turned out Finan was correct in his thinking that the bandages had been wrapped too tightly. In the morning, her side ached something fierce and the bruising had darkened to a near black. It was impossible to say whether the healer who had wrapped the wound previously had simply made a mistake or if their actions had been motivated by general hatred of the Danes. Either way it was of no consequence because when Finan came with Uhtred to check on her they both agreed; she would need further treatment. What neither of them spoke out loud was their uncertainty as to whether she would be able to travel with them in a few days’ time.

Tove sat half propped up by pillows when the healer Osferth fetched was led into her room. Even with the war paint washed from her face, the expression of frustration on Tove wore was intimidating as she fixed her gaze on the short man. In addition to a healer, he was also apparently a priest which was denoted by his robes and the sizeable wooden cross which hung around his neck. A short and wiry man he became uncomfortable under the weight of Tove’s gaze. Wringing his wiry fingers nervously, he could not meet her eye. Instead his watery eyes flicked from his clearly displeased patient to her Lord who stood leaning against the far wall arms crossed.  

“W-what appears to be the issue, my Lord?” he inquired in a painfully squeaky voice, his question was not directed at Tove but the Lord Uhtred.

“Am I the one lying in a sick bed?” Uhtred responded flatly, though it was clear he gleaned a certain amount of amusement at furthering the healer’s discomfort.

“O-oh no, no of course not my Lord.”

Hesitantly the healer turned and approached Tove’s bedside. He hovered there for a moment. Until finally, with a dramatic sigh Tove rolled up her tunic to reveal the dark bruising that painted the side of her ribcage. As though woken from his nervousness suddenly by the sight of her wound, the healer drew closer to examine it. Her eyes followed his every move as he probed around the edges of the bruise and hummed thoughtfully to himself. Every prod of his fingers caused her to tense with pain though she made no sound.

All the while, out of the corner of her eye Tove could see Uhtred and Finan waiting patiently against the far wall. Uhtred merely watched with interest as the healer examined her. Meanwhile, Finan seemed somewhat tense at the sight of the damage he had caused. No one spoke until the healer sat back on his stool with a determined expression on his face.

“Well?” Tove asked expectantly.

“Well…,” began the healer earning an unimpressed look from Tove. Though, despite it he managed to push on. “I do not believe the bones are broken, Praise God. Though, it does appear the wrapping has served to deepen the bruising…causing blood to collect under the skin. Minor bleeding and holy water may alleviate your pain and aid in the healing.”

The squeaky quality of the healer’s voice and his heavy accent caused her to furrow her brow in confusion.

“What?” she asked.

Uhtred cut in though before the healer could attempt to explain himself further.

“He wants to bleed you,” Uhtred said in Danish. “And pour their Christian magic waters over the wound.”

Tove’s eyebrows shot up. “Magic waters?”

“Yes, they say it is blessed by their God.”

The healer waited as Tove considered the treatment. When she finally nodded her assent, he reached into a satchel and brought out the necessary implements. A small flask filled with clear water, a knife, and some cloth.

Bleeding, though unpleasant, was not an unusual treatment for such a wound. So, with that agreed upon the healer ushered Uhtred and Finan from the room to do his work. Despite the routineness of the procedure it did take some time to complete as all the bad humors had to leave the body through the blood. The healer made two medium size cuts across the bruised area and allowed the blood to flow until it was little but a trickle. Then he splashed the area with his magic waters said a prayer and pronounced the treatment complete. Though she was dubious of the effectiveness of the waters Tove gave a nod of thanks to the man as he rewrapped her ribs.  

When he was gone Tove allowed herself to fall back into a light sleep which lasted for several hours before a knock came at her door. In her grogginess she only managed a grunt in reply. Though it was clearly enough for the door opened a moment later to reveal Lord Uhtred with a pitcher of ale and a platter of food.

“My Lord,” she said, attempting to push herself up into a seated position.

“Rest,” Uhtred said simply indicating there was no reason for her sit up. “I am only here to bring you some food.”

“Thank you.”

“And to discuss our impending journey to Lunden,” he added.

Her stomach sank.

“I will be well,” Tove said firmly.

Uhtred looked at her for a long moment.

“The healer does not advise you to travel on horse back for some weeks,” Uhtred said finally.

“My Lord!” she began to protest.

“So, I’ve arranged for you to ride in a cart. As I imagined you would not like to be left here until you were fully healed?”

Tove’s eyebrows rose in surprise. It was apparent the Lord had anticipated her fear of being left behind. A wave of gratitude swept through her causing a smile to spread across her face. Traveling by cart was certainly not ideal and indeed a tad frustrating for a warrior, but better to concede than to not be allowed to travel.

“Thank you, my Lord!” Tove exclaimed vehemently. “You are a good man.”

Uhtred chuckled. He patted her shoulder lightly and then made to excuse himself. At the door he left her with the firm order that she should take as much rest as she could in the following days.

-----

Their journey to Lunden was longer than the one to Wintenchester and though Tove would have rather enjoyed it from horseback she felt somewhat grateful for the cart. Her ribs had begun to heal properly after the intervention of the healer’s treatment, but she was still sore. The cart jostled somewhat along the road at times though the driver did his best to keep from going over any great bumps. Overall, it was a comfortable and relaxed journey.

As they rode, she heard about the fate of the Lord Odda and learned about what they would be doing in Lunden. Apparently, the Lord had decided to take his own life rather than allow himself to be executed. It was speculated by some of the men that the Lord had done it as a kindness to his friend the King. He had not wished Alfred to be forced to order his execution. She found it somewhat sad. An opinion that was not shared by some of those in their party. They explained to her that Christians believed to take one’s own life was a sin and that the Lord Odda would now be burning in hell for this sin. Like the crime he was to be sentenced for this made little sense to Tove; it seemed Christians loved to punish themselves.

What a strange God these Christians have.

The topic of their duties was however much more interesting to her. Since arriving in Britain she had spent much of her time at Beamfleot where the Lady Aethelfled had been held. She knew the Thurgilson brothers had held Lunden briefly and used their advantage there to capture the Lady, but Lord Njal’s crew arrived too late to see that city. It was said that the place thrived with trade and life even more so than Wintenchester despite having switched several times between Saxon and Danish hands.

Half the place was built by an ancient people called the Romans who had, similarly to her people, invaded Britain hundreds of years ago and that their buildings were made of the same great stones as the palace in Wintenchester. Though, as Uhtred put in much of the stone was in decay and Saxons did not often inhabit the Roman buildings for fear of their ghosts. Much of the population lived within the old Roman walls but had instead decided to live in their own wooden structures.

It would be Lord Uhtred’s job to see to the security of that city. Now that it was back in Saxon hands, particularly Mercian hands, Alfred wished for it to stay that way. So, he had given the city to Lord Uhtred which was interesting to Tove as Mercia was supposedly ruled by a Lord of Mercia -Aethelred. Regardless she was pleased to be there and excited for what awaited them.

When they arrived, they were met by a Saxon called Bishop Erkenwald who did not look overly pleased to be receiving them. The Bishop greeted Lord Uhtred begrudgingly and led them into the city. Inside the gates another man, a priest by his look, was instructed to show the household warriors to their lodgings. All of which were situated in the Roman quarter of the city near their Lord’s home that looked out onto the river Temes. It was late afternoon when they arrived, and they were left much to their own devices as their Lord attended a meeting with the Bishop.

That suited Tove well enough as she was eager to settle into her new home. It was a small place, but that made no difference to her. She did not need a lot of space and a larger home would have made her miss her family too much. During their journey she had had plenty of time to think about her family and it saddened her to do so. Kåre’s child had likely been born some time ago. She wondered if it was a boy or a girl. But thinking about that only led her to wondering how Inga was doing and whether her sisters were helping which left her with a deep ache in her chest. It was likely that after not returning she would be eventually presumed dead since she had no way to send word to them.

So, instead of allowing those thoughts to seep in she cleaned the new place as best she could. There was still some mild pain in her side that made stooping difficult, but she managed to sweep the floors of dust and organize her meager possessions. When all that was complete the sun had sunk fully below the horizon. Despite her desire to explore the city, Tove decided she would have an early night and went to sleep after a small meal of bread and hard cheese.

A few weeks after their arrival, Tove was finally allowed to join the men in the training yard. After having been stagnant so long she was eager to get back to what she did best. It had been enjoyable getting to know the wives of Uhtred and Sihtric, but housework was not for her. She was a shield maiden.

“Don’t go easy on me,” Tove said firmly to Osferth as she tossed him a sword.

Admittedly she had been looking forward to sparring with Finan since the battle at Beamfleot, but he was not there. Apparently Uhtred had required the Irishman’s presence on some errand elsewhere in the city. So, Osferth would be her sparring partner for the afternoon.

“Yeah Osferth. Best not let yerself be beaten by a girl,” Sihtric jeered.

“Careful Sihtric or you’ll be next on my list for humiliation,” she joked.

Sihtric snorted. She turned back to Osferth who held his practice sword at the ready. A small smile played at Tove’s lips as she surveyed him. Osferth was too good of a man. Many others would have taken advantage of her distraction to begin the fight and so catch her off guard, but not Osferth.

“When you’re ready.”

Tove did not wait. Immediately she went for the opening she saw in his guard, but Osferth parried knocking her blade away. Gritting her teeth, she went in again and again she was parried away. Five or six strokes in Osferth began to make his own attacks which Tove parried with just as much practiced ease. It went on like that for some time. Both their faces glistening with sweat, grunting, and becoming tired with the speed and intensity of the fight.

Until she saw it. The same opening Osferth had shown when they began -except this was not so intentional. The young monk knew where his weaknesses were, and he had shown them to her to draw her in. But now he was tired, and she was wagering he would not be able to react so fast as before. So, she went for it lunging blade first she poked him in the stomach with the dull tip of her blade just hard enough to make him double over.

“Dead,” Tove proclaimed with a heavy exhale and a wide grin on her face.

-----

Up on the balcony of Uhtred’s house stood Finan and the Lord himself surveying the training yard with interest. They had had an errand to run earlier in the morning, but on its completion Uhtred asked Finan to observe the training yard with him. Uhtred knew it would be Tove’s first day back to train and he was interested to see how good she was -as the only direct witness he had to her skill was Finan. Though, he did not want her to know he was watching thus the balcony.

“Seems you were right,” said Uhtred as they watched her ‘kill’ Osferth.

“Seems Osferth still needs work on that guard Lord,” Finan added mildly.

Uhtred nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he was watching Finan watching Tove. Back in top health, Uhtred would not deny that Tove was a beauty. Had he not been so deeply in love with Gisela he might have wanted her, but nothing could turn him from the love of his wife. Still, he recognized the gleam of interest in Finan’s eyes and he had seen his friend’s discomfort at the sight of her wound back in Wintenchester.

“What made you spare her at Beamfleot?” Uhtred asked suddenly.

Finan’s brow furrowed at the question. Turning his eyes away from the training yard below, he only managed a shrug.

“Ya wouldn’ have killed someon’ who yielded would ya Lord?”

“No,” Uhtred said. “Still, you couldn’t have known if she would give her oath.”

“I had a feelin’ Lord.”

[warehouse13pod]

Show Notes 108A Duped - Part 1

Down the rabbit hole we go, Agents!

Here they are! At long, long last—the show notes for 108 “Duped!”

These notes cover 108 “Duped” Part 1.

You can listen to it in this embedded player:

Or on Youtube:

Let’s jump right in! 

Miranda and I started this episode with some fun facts about ourselves. Mine was that I once got a pillow from Sargento that said “Sweet dreams are made of cheese,” because I complimented it online.

First of all, here’s the song it references.

Now, here are the tweets of how it happened. Here’s the Tweet I saw from Warehouse 13 co-creator and legendary TV writer/producer, Jane Espenson and the conversation that followed:

And at this very moment, that pillow is serving as a laptop cushion.

Now, onto the show.

This week’s writer appreciation focused on another writing team, Benjamin Raab and Deric A. Hughes who shared some awesome behind-the-scenes pix with us on twitter! After we released the episode, Ben tweeted at us and told us the crew let Ben and Deric cameo on every episode they wrote/produced. Here’s the pic from “Duped!” They were on the elevator with Pete!

We got that tweet and some good corrections and fun facts from Ben and Deric themselves! What up, dudes‽

Miranda says that we start the episode “en media res” which means “in the middle of things” in Latin. Here’s a link to what it means in terms of narrative storytelling.

Later, we also compared Myka’s dress in the pilot…

…to her dress in Duped.

Great work by the costuming/hair/makeup team on emphasizing all the subtle ways that Myka was Not Normal™

Because we love to give due credit, so, the people responsible are

Costuming: Joanne Hanson

Hair: Susan Exton-Stranks

Makeup: Marie Nardella

We also have a good laugh talking about how Pete miscategorizes Alice in Wonderland as Chick Lit.

Alice in Wonderland is obviously not Chick Lit (although there’s nothing wrong with Chick Lit).

This led us to a brief discussion of how Miranda’s sister trolls her by calling “Doctor Who” Mister Who. That already wasn’t accurate, but now it’s especially inaccurate as The Doctor is a woman! As a side note, I personally would buy a T-Shirt that said “Mister Who” on it just to make a laugh. Anyone else? Anyone?

Next up, Miranda noticed that Pete was wearing a North Canton, Ohio t-shirt and connected the dots that Eddie McClintock himself is from North Canton. Further proof that Eddie and Pete are essentially the same person.

Speaking of Eddie, this is also the episode where we learned that Eddie was voted the 82nd Sexiest Man Alive, according to TVBuddy. Alas, alack, the link to the list is now dead. So I can’t link it. I tried.

Next, we talked about how amazing Eddie is at doing an impersonation of Myka sticking her neck out when she’s mad.

In the Warehouse, an artifactified disco ball plays Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”

Here’s that song:

When Act II starts we get some really orange lighting that plays right into our color theory. I couldn’t find a picture of that scene and Amazon won’t let me screenshot, but, in general, most cinematography of Myka in this episode is very orange. Here are a couple examples of how orange most things are that involve Alice in this episode:

Then we talked about how weird it was when Myka actually took one of Artie’s pastries.

Actual footage of my face when she took one:

Actual footage of my face when she took SECONDS:

Then we got the introduction of Gary and Jillian Whitman—this week’s red herring bad guys and focus of this week’s dual Actor’s Spotlight, courtesy of Miranda.

Gary was played by Niall Matter.

Miranda recommended watching the TV show he was on called The Best Years.

Jillian (my name-thief) was played by Erica Cerra.

Miranda noticed a subtle Walt Whitman reference and gave the dates of his life and Lewis Carroll’s/Charles Dodgson’s life.

Walt Whitman: 1819 - 1892

Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson: 1832 - 1898

There will be a lot more information about Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson in the show notes for Part 2 of this episode.

Then we talked about how Artie was a tad too aggressive in telling Claudia to “back off!” and how this all reminded us of a scene in The Importance of Being Earnest where two characters grumpily eat cakes. Miranda later specified that it reminded her of the scene where Jack and Algernon eat muffins. Meanwhile, it reminded me of the scene where Gwendolen and Cecily get passive-aggressive over whether tea should be enjoyed with bread and butter or with cake.

Here’s a snippet of the scene Miranda was thinking of:

 Algernon.  If it was my business, I wouldn’t talk about it.  [Begins to eat muffins.]  It is very vulgar to talk about one’s business.  Only people like stock-brokers do that, and then merely at dinner parties.

Jack.  How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can’t make out.  You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.

Algernon.  Well, I can’t eat muffins in an agitated manner.  The butter would probably get on my cuffs.  One should always eat muffins quite calmly.  It is the only way to eat them.

Jack.  I say it’s perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under the circumstances.

Here’s a snippet of the scene I was thinking of:

Cecily.  May I offer you some tea, Miss Fairfax?

Gwendolen.  [With elaborate politeness.]  Thank you.  [Aside.]  Detestable girl!  But I require tea!

Cecily.  [Sweetly.]  Sugar?

Gwendolen.  [Superciliously.]  No, thank you.  Sugar is not fashionable any more. [Cecily looks angrily at her, takes up the tongs and puts four lumps of sugar into the cup.]

Cecily.  [Severely.]  Cake or bread and butter?

Gwendolen.  [In a bored manner.]  Bread and butter, please.  Cake is rarely seen at the best houses nowadays.

Cecily.  [Cuts a very large slice of cake, and puts it on the tray.]  Hand that to Miss Fairfax.

[Merriman does so, and goes out with footman.  Gwendolen drinks the tea and makes a grimace.  Puts down cup at once, reaches out her hand to the bread and butter, looks at it, and finds it is cake.  Rises in indignation.]

Gwendolen.  You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake.  I am known for the gentleness of my disposition, and the extraordinary sweetness of my nature, but I warn you, Miss Cardew, you may go too far. 

Both of those scenes take place in Act II.

If you read nothing else in these show notes STOP AND WATCH THE FOLLOWING CLIP!

Here’s a clip from an early movie adaptation of The Importance of Being Earnest that features my favorite line delivery of anything ever:

Good luck ever looking at a handbag without thinking of that again.

While we’re on the subject, I played Cecily in the Importance of Being Earnest, so I’m legally obligated to share a couple photos of that as proof:

As a final note on the matter, you can read the entire play from project Gutenberg here (and I recommend that you do, because it’s one of my all-time faves.).

Later, Miranda and I wondered if the infinity tattoo on Myka’s ankle was Joanne Kelly’s or was something Alice did when they got to Vegas. I think someone tweeted at us about this awhile ago. If anyone has that info, I’ll update the show notes with that and credit to the Tweeter.

After that, we discussed Myka’s/Alice’s casual mention of Carson’s Rule of Linear Transfer and her assertion that it means “forced outcomes require tangency.” I posited that this rule is not a mathematic or scientific principle but rather a warehouse-specific rule. The only Carson’s Rule that Miranda and I could find when researching this was an unrelated rule about bandwidth. If you’re super into telecommunications, you can read more about Carson’s Banwidth Rule here.

Backing up a little bit in the episode, we discussed a little bit about the history of disco and disco clubs via exerpts from a written interview with Professor Carol Cooper.

She spoke with us about Studio 54, Vaughn Harper, and the roots of a Studio 54 laying in a black-owned club called Leviticus.

I didn’t mention it in the episode, but that makes the club in Empire (also named Leviticus) a truly nicely named homage to history. Bustle.com did a deep dive on that fact here.

Relatedly, when the disco ball drops earlier in the warehouse, Claudia does her own take on the Saturday Night Fever dance…

…then devastates Artie by incorrectly dating the Disco Era. Find approximate dates and more info here.

Then Miranda compared Deanna Troi from Star Trek: The Next Generation and Tara Maclay from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

First of all, the episode of Buffy that we referenced was Season 4, Episode 16 “Who Are You?”

Second of all, we made a Buffy reference, so… You know… Take a shot.

Then we talked about Myka’s reaction to Pete referencing a rabbit’s foot as a lucky charm.

That was both a great reference to the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland…

…and a great reference to keychains from the 1990s and early 2000s. For those who don’t understand that reference, I was gonna link to some funny pictures from that era, but googling “rabbit’s foot” actually led me to down a sad path, so… like.. Not gonna share that.

Then we talked about how Pete saying “Kirk out

…was an improvised line that referenced Captain James T. Kirk on Star Trek: The Original Series and the communicators they used as well as to the flip phones from the era just before warehouse 13 premiered.

Then, both Ben Raab and Eddie McClintock explained that the reaction on set to Eddie saying “Kirk out!” looked something like this…

…until the network gave them the all-clear.

Winding things down for this episode, Miranda and I figured out what a Roulette table looked like:

…and appreciated Claudia’s knowledge of CIA laser mics. Turns out, laser microphones are really a thing!

Finally, for this week’s

~HEAVY THEMES~

…we talked about how off-putting Miranda and I found it when Alice (as Myka) drank both on the job and in front of Pete.

Not all people in recovery are triggered when people drink around them, but some are.

Here is an article from American Addiction Centers on how best to support an alcoholic and support their recovery.

If anyone has resources that they find helpful, we’re always happy to add them to these show notes or create a page devoted to resources for things discussed in our Heavy Themes sections. 

And, with that, we are done with Part 1!

 See you next time, Agents.

[camgirlsurvivalguide]

Camgirl 101 - 2019 Edition (The Absolute tl;dr)

I wrote the first “Camgirl 101″ nearly 6 years ago - wild to think that so much time has gone by! So much has changed about this industry, and yet in many ways, so much has stayed the same. Since my initial “How 2 Cam” post is a tad outdated at this point, and since I have the time to kill typing away on tumblr dot com today, I figured I’d do an abbreviated, updated 2019 edition of the basics of the basics of webcam modelling, as well as my top tips and tricks to making the most out of your initial push as a camgirl.

What site should I cam on? The site I cam on is MyFreeCams, but there are other popular sites out there, such as Chaturbate and Nood (just to name two of many, many more). I would suggest sticking to sites that have been established for a while to be on the safe side, as many new sites are opening, but not all actually attract much in the way of traffic. MyFreeCams is female-only, where Chaturbate allows males and trans performers as well. Nood is a higher quality streaming platform, but you’ll need to be OBS savvy before starting, so it’s better for people who already know what they’re doing, at least to some degree.

Because I work exclusively on MFC (and have been doing so for the better part of six years), the advise I give is specifically about MFC. While most general advise can be extended to other platforms, things like payment processing and technical support I know nothing about outside of MFC. 

What do I need to get started as a cam model? You’ll need a steady internet connection, a webcam, some sort of a lighting source, and yourself. You do not need fancy equipment, a perfect cam space, a complicated profile or an ungodly amount of self confidence to get started - while these things can help, they’re not required, and are things you can amass over time as you become more established.

How do I make money? Camgirls on MFC make money in tokens. One token = $0.05USD earned by a model. You make money by persuading paying patrons, known as Premium Members, to tip you tokens. Payments are processed on the 1st and 16th of each month, and can be sent to you via cheque, wire transfer, or through third parties. I advise you choose cheque or wire transfer, because third party payment processors have been notoriously unreliable over the years. For US models, you can also have your income direct deposited. For international models (aka anyone outside the US), you’ll either need to ‘make payout’ for a wire transfer, which is earn a minimum of 20,000 tokens ($1000USD), or you can opt for a cheque in the mail for free after earning a minimum of 400 tokens ($20).

Camgirls do not get paid hourly. All earnings come from tips. 

What can I do to encourage people to tip or talk? Generally speaking, you entertain. Camgirls entertain by engaging in conversation, showing off their bodies, stripping, and doing live masturbation or sex performances, in addition to selling homemade content, whether in the form of videos and photos, or over apps like snapchat. The best way to increase your odds of making money is to make people like you. For this, you’ll need social skills, physical attractiveness, patience, and business savvy. While it may seem simple, this process is incredibly dynamic and complex; for this reason, I (nor anyone else) can tell you with any guarantee how to make money. My best advice is to read this blog for inspiration, watch cam models to see how others are doing it, and then most importantly, try it yourself. There is only so much you can learn by watching and asking questions: the rest you will have to figure out as you go. 

Do I have to show my face? Yes. You cannot wear a mask, or hide your face; it’s against the Terms of Service of the site, and you can’t build relationships with human beings when you have a bag on your head. That’s just not how it works.

Do I have to get naked or masturbate? No! You don’t. While these things are definitely the norm on the site, there is no rule that says you have to get naked on MFC. You can literally log on and just stare at the camera, unmoving, silently, for hours on end if you want - no one will stop you - it just obviously wouldn’t be particularly entertaining, and would be unlikely to make you much money. If you choose not to strip, or choose to restrict your stripping to certain environments (only in private, only with certain people, only at certain price points), you’ll have to figure out how to entertain in other ways. I would like to highlight that this is not only something non-explicit models have to figure out: the best of the best on the site do far, far more than just strip. Sexuality is part of it, but not the whole story.

How often should I cam, and for how long? The most successful models on MFC tend to rely mostly on the support of their repeat customers, known as ‘regulars’, for the bulk of their income. Making regulars is an important part of camming, because members who return again and again build a relationship with you, and those who have supported in the past are more likely to support again in the future (a psychological concept known as the ‘foot in the door’ phenomenon). Rooms that have groups of returning regulars are also more attractive in a community aspect, because the members aren’t only returning for the model for a sense of togetherness and familiarity, they’re also there to talk with their other member friends. 

In order to build a base of regulars, you should aim to cam relatively consistently, and at somewhat similar time slots. There are no real “best times” to cam - the best times to log on are times where you can expect yourself to be the most consistent over the long term. This way, people know where and when to find you. As far as how long your cam shows should be, this is up to you for the most part. I prefer to cam between 3 and 4 hours at a time.

What is camscore? Camscore is a rating system that is based off of tokens earned per hour. Every new model starts with a camscore of 1000, and depending on how many tokens she makes each hour, her camscore will either raise or drop. The goal is to make as many tokens as you can an hour so that you can raise your camscore - this will sort your icon higher up on the main page, making it more likely that random passerby’s will see your room and hopefully enter it. While camscore is important, it isn’t the only way that members find model’s rooms. For the first six hours of broadcast time (NOT account life: broadcast time, as in time actually live streaming), models are given a ‘new model’ badge on their icons, which can attract members to check out the room. While ‘sort by camscore’ is the default settings for members, they can also choose to sort by other styles, meaning a low camscore isn’t always a low placement on the page. Lastly, models can use social media to boost their visibility. All that said, a low camscore can make things increasingly difficult and frustrating for a model; please read here for more details on overcoming low visibility:

http://camgirlsurvivalguide.tumblr.com/post/169514561900/how-to-overcome-low-visibility

Will camming hurt my chances of getting a vanilla job? Depends on the job. There is always a chance that the people you know will find out that you cam. The best things you can do are weigh your options carefully before starting, geoblock any areas that you don’t want watching you (you can block regions from accessing your cam, but this doesn’t protect against VPNs, and doesn’t stop people from taking screenshots or recordings of your streams and uploading to other unblocked sites), and take caution not to use the same photos connected to your real name as you do for camming - but there is no way to ultimately protect yourself from the stigma of sex work. Facial recognition software is becoming more accurate each and every month, and I feel that soon, programs like google image reverse search will be able to quickly and easily pull up any and all profiles connected to certain faces; take that as you will. 

Do camgirls pay taxes? Yes. You are in charge of your own business, including filing and paying your own taxes. This is different in each country/region, but it’s a good idea to save 30% of everything you earn for tax purposes. Hire a tax accountant to do it for you properly so you don’t get audited.

Do you have any additional tips to share? Why yes! Yes I do. Here are some miscellaneous shit knowledge that I’ve picked up over time. Enjoy.

- I cam using a mac. Before I cam, I’ll often take 10 to 15 cute selfies using the photobooth app, which I then quickly edit using VSCO cam on my phone. I upload these to an album on my MFC Share (the content hosting ‘store’ page that MFC has) so I can sell these cute photos to people for cheap. Often I’ll make a monthly selfie album that I upload photos to as the month progresses, which encourages members who purchase it early in the month to keep checking back for more photos. It’s a good way to hype myself up and feel cute before cam, while also creating content to sell that fosters the building of my regular base. 

- Also with respect to camming and my mac, if I do something sexy on cam, like a strip tease or a bath show, I’ll hit record on my photobooth app while I’m streaming to record my webcam’s output. I can then edit this footage after I log off cam to sell for cheap, or to give to members who contributed toward my goal or something. 

- It’s good practice to reply to all offline tips. While I might not reply to video or photoset sales through MFC share all the time (sometimes my inbox gets super busy), it is important not to let offline tips go unnoticed. Appreciating people’s tips makes them want to tip again. Ignoring them makes them not want to return. 

- Do not just sit on your phone when you’re bored on cam. Get up, dance around, show off your body, talk to yourself about nothing. You’re not there to be entertained (although it’s fun when you are, of course) - you’re there to be entertaining. Shake off the anxiety and shake ya butt instead.

[theshatteredrose]

Turquoise Lotus Father (Treasure Seekers Saga 2) - Chapter 9 - Etrian Odyssey 5

AN: Late night update, yay. A shorter chapter compared to previous ones. I mean, it’s ten pages. My attempt to keep chapters short didn’t last very long :’D Anyway, hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet

Chapter 9:

It was with a sense of defeat that Drayce led his party back to the Crescentia. He kept Faelen close to his side, however, to remind himself that things could have gotten a lot worse. He held no regrets about handing over that token. It was an easy exchange.

No treasure was worth someone’s life or safety.

He still felt a sense of guilt, though. He knew he really shouldn’t. How was he to know that those two were bandits? They didn’t look or act like the bandits they had encountered before. Which was likely the reason why they had been sent to follow them.

There was no doubt in Drayce’s mind that Keane was involved.

As they stepped into the foyer of their guildhouse, and before Drayce could announce their return, they were greeted by the sound of hurried footsteps from upstairs. For a fraction of a moment Drayce felt a sense of panic rise in his chest. But that was soon pushed aside when Caelem suddenly appeared.

And he appeared quite excited as he all but bounded down the stairs. "There you are!"

Drayce was honestly startled by their unconventional welcome. Yet, he was hopeful, too. "Hm? Cal? Something happened?"

Caelem nodded his head as he eagerly explained, "The map seemed to have activated for a moment before it faded out again. It pointed to an area a few steps away from a symbol that looked like a set of stairs."

It took Drayce a few seconds for the information to filter in. "It did?" he asked before a thought occurred to him and he quickly pulled out the partial map of the second floor. He quickly located the area approximately where they had discovered that lotus engraved token. And he showed the spot to Caelem.

"Wait, hang on, look at this map, Cal. Was it about here on the parchment?"

Caelem immediately nodded his head. " Y-yes, that’s right!"

So that piece of parchment was a map.

Kamali glanced at the map before he turned his eyes toward Drayce questioningly. "Did that token…?" he murmured.

Caelem tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Token?"

Drayce rolled up the map and quickly placed into the pocket of his coat. He then shrugged off his armour. "Let’s head into the library."

The others followed suit, choosing the comfort of removing their armour. It was also an indication to them that they weren't to return to the labyrinth again that day. Those bandits may or may not be there, but it didn't matter right now. They may have lost that mysterious silver token, but they weren't out of the game yet.

Making their way to the library, Drayce decided to go first with his discoveries from the labyrinth. Caelem had given him the quick rundown of what had occurred anyway, and what Drayce had discovered would help shed some light on what had happened in the library.

As Drayce told the rest of his guild what happened, he could sense some of his guilt rising from the pit of his stomach. He also sensed some guilt from Faelen, which was unjustified. While the bristle of protectiveness from Ashton was utterly justified.

"Bandits, huh?" Ashton murmured.

He wasn't the only one outwardly bristling, though.

"What? They hurt Faelen?" Caelem practically hissed as his tail physically bristled before concern made its way to his features. He immediately turned to give Faelen a quick once over with his gaze. No doubt searching for any possible injuries.

Faelen flushed lightly at the worry and genuine protectiveness directed at him. "He didn’t hurt me. Just…scared me."

Caelem wasn't entirely convinced, however. "But that’s the same thing, isn’t it?"

"It is in my books," Drayce immediately responded.

Upon seeing that Faelen was indeed unharmed, and was a tad flustered at the attention, Shashi folded an arm across his chest as he took on a musing pose. "So, you found a small silver token, like that of a coin, with an engraving of a lotus?" he asked, getting back to the mystery at hand.

"That’s right," Drayce replied. "And if I am to assume anything, there’s more. And those bandits are after it, too."

Shashi tapped his cheek a few times before a semi dark expression appeared on his face. "If so, then they are likely after the map as well."

That was definitely a high possibility. There was also a possibility that those bandits don't know they have it. Though, he couldn't safely rule out that they did. He would have to be careful not to talk about outside of the Crescentia.

"You said that it activated for a second. Has that happened before?" Drayce asked.

Shashi dropped his arms limply to his sides and shook his head. "No. What happened today was the first time."

Ashton roughly folded his arms across his chest as he restlessly shifted from foot to the other. "So, once again making assumptions here, those bandits have only one token. The one you found."

"More likely than not," Drayce responded simply.

"It appears as if these tokens are needed to activate the map," Zohar commented. "Further still, perhaps the map needed to be discovered before the tokens were to be active."

Drayce took a second to let that mull around in his head. "Sounds reasonable. Let’s assume that there are at least four of them. One for each corner."

Shashi immediately agreed to that notion. "That seems plausible from what I have seen of the map. Fortunately, if they do find another we will know."

Not the most favourable of circumstances, but it would have to do.

"That’s something," Drayce sighed.

Kamali turned to Drayce and gave a softly concerned look. "What would you like to do now?"

Drayce didn't need to think too hard on the response. "Now? I’d like everyone to stay within the Crescentia. Especially you, Faelen."

"Ok," Faelen returned softly, giving the slight indication that he was nervous in returning to the labyrinth.

“I’ll have Theodore inspect the boundaries,” Zohar offered as an extra protective measure.

Drayce gave Zohar a grateful smile. “Please, do. Everyone else, let’s relax for the rest of the day.”

He got some thinking to do, honestly. About how he was going to deal with those bandits and what it was exactly they were hoping to achieve. But more importantly, how he was going to ensure the safety of his guildmates. That was his number one priority.

Everyone began to file out of the library in order to remove their explorer garbs and get comfortable, and more likely than not, check the premises. As Drayce himself moved to follow, Ashton grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him aside to where he and Shashi stood. He waited until everyone else was out of hearing range before he turned to regard Drayce.

“Drayce. Shashi and I would like to have a couple of words with you in private,” he said quickly, with his voice low. “Let’s speak in your office.”

Ashton had said all that in a hushed tone, being mindful not to draw the attention or curiosity of the others. That was both curious and worrying. That could mean one of two things; they had something unsettling to inform him of. Or something important they didn't want the rest of the guild to know.

“Sure,” Drayce replied simply.

The three of them soon left the library and headed to the office that appeared to be the official room to discuss sensitive matters with him. Of course, that made total sense. And Drayce couldn’t help but wonder briefly if his grandpa used his office for the same reason and what kind of stories were discussed in that very room.

“Is there something wrong?” Drayce asked the moment the three of them entered his office and securely closed the door behind them.

“I spoke with Zohar last night and have been doing some research on this other lotus blade,” Shashi replied in his usual straight forward manner. “And from what I have discovered, what Zohar has informed me is accurate.”

So, there is another lotus blade?

"It also appears that the Turquoise Lotus Father did indeed have a brother," Shashi continued. "And he was the one that wielded this other blade."

Drayce furrowed his brow in worry. "Really? So, he fought alongside the Despot, too?"

Shashi nodded his head as he reached into one of his pockets within his coat and pulled out a small but often used notebook. "Yes, but from what we have discovered, it wasn’t willingly. The blade is said to possess whoever tries to wield it. Which is what we believed to have happened to the brother."

Drayce sat on the edge of his desk and loosely folded his arms across his chest. "So, the Turquoise Lotus Father became a masurao to save him?"

"That’s what we believe, yes," Ashton answered.

"The Turquoise Lotus Father was named as such due to his caring nature," Shashi added as he flipped through his notebook. "He had no intention of being a warrior, until the war happened and his younger brother was enslaved. At this point, this is all we know."

Still, that was a lot of information discovered in just a couple of days!

"We’ve told Caelem of the Turquoise Lotus Father, but not of the brother as of yet," Ashton stated, explaining the, well, secrecy of their conversation.

Totally made sense, though. The information of another far more dangerous blade being out there somewhere would be alarming to anyone. They also needed to make sure that the map they had was leading to the Shining Lotus rather than that darker blade.

He couldn't help but briefly wonder if those bandits new of the legends. And of the lotuses blades.

"Yeah, that seems the best thing to do for now.," Drayce commented idly. "Just until we can find more information."

Ashton nodded his head. "We could discover more if we knew the Blade Brothers’ actual names." He sounded a little exasperated when he said that.

Names would indeed be helpful. However...

"Though, it appears that this Turquoise Lotus Father is better known for that name specifically."

Ashton had to agree to that. "Probably true. In any case, we'll keep looking. That's the safest thing to do now."

Yeah, safest. They should be safe within the walls of the Crescentia.

After a few utterances of taking it easy, Ashton and Shashi left the room. And left Drayce to his thoughts. Pushing away from the desk, Drayce instead walked around it to take a seat upon the chair. He leaned back into it as he swivelled around to gaze idly out the window.

So...the Turquoise Lotus Father had a brother. A younger sibling perhaps. Or even a twin.

As that thought entered his mind, a sharp pain appeared simultaneously in his head and from his temple. It was a sudden and sharp pain that prompted a small yelp of pain and for him to clutch his head.

Again? Why did the word brother cause him such pain? And why was it always followed by that empty feeling of lost? As if he was missing something. Or rather, someone.

Drayce gritted his teeth as he endured the pain and discomfort. It thankfully subsided soon after and he was left with a very mild headache. It wasn't exactly a headache. Just a low ache.

He soon found a distraction when the door to the office opened and Blayke stepped inside. He walked over to the desk and stood before him. However, a furrow appeared upon his brow as Drayce swivelled the chair to face him.

"You ok?" he asked simply as he gave him a suspicious and inspecting look.

Drayce managed to plaster a reassuring smile upon his face and nodded. "Yeah, just a small headache from using the old grey matter. What's up?"

Blayke didn't look one hundred percent convinced, which wasn’t much of a surprise. It wasn’t easy to convince at the best of times. He soon folded his arms across his chest however, indicating that he was willing to drop the subject this time. But Drayce had better not test him again.

Drayce knew that look well!

"I think we need to speak with Ramus about this," he stated.

Drayce sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah, I think so, too. He might be able to help us out like last time. If Turquoise Lotus Father fought within the Legendary War, there might be something about him in the council’s archives. Hopefully, at least."

Blayke shrugged. "Only one way to find out. I also want him to know about those bandits. That’s honestly my first concern." His expression then went dark. A purely protective kind of darkness. Something that Drayce had only seen Blayke and Ashton do.

Seeing the two of them together with that same expression was rather frightening!

"I knew that brat rubbed me the wrong way for a reason…" Blayke muttered under his breath.

Drayce uttered a small sigh. He was obviously talking about Keita. The kid tricked them all.

But he just had to give his best friend a smile in return. Those bandits may have gotten the drop on them once by using their willingness to help another in trouble to their advantage, but it would not happen again.

Not if Blayke had something to say about it!

"Anyway, I'm going to pace the boundaries of the property like some caged tiger," Blayke stated as he turned on his heel and headed for the door. "We'll visit Ramus tomorrow, yeah?"

"Sounds good," Drayce returned. "And you be careful. Especially if you use Blazing Link. We can't afford to have the back garden ablaze."

Blayke snorted in response, but made no attempt to dispute it. And, needless to say, if he happened to stumble across a bandit, to won't be happy.

That did cause Drayce some worry, though he could do little to stop Blayke's restless pacing. It was understandable, really. He was feeling angry and frustrated and needed an outlet. The best thing Drayce could was to check in on him occasionally.

Speaking of checking in on someone, he had better see how Faelen was doing. What happened today was unnerving. And was sure to leave the rover feeling rattled.

Setting aside his research for the time being, Drayce pushed back his chair and took to his feet. Faelen had headed to his room after they all departed from the library and was likely still there. Nashoba was likely to be with him, too. Hopefully. Blayke would have taken the white wolf with him on his pacing, but it was obvious that he didn’t want to keep him away from Faelen.

As Drayce headed to the second floor, the sound of the front door opening and someone cheerfully announcing their arrival caused him to travel halfway down the second set of stairs. In the foyer was Tokala and Salim. Back from their wanderings around the city.

“Oh, good, you guys are back,” Drayce greeted, inwardly relieved that they hadn’t encountered any trouble during their outing.

“How was your exploration of Iorys?” Kamali asked politely as he approached them in the foyer.

Tokala smiled brightly. “It’s so much bigger than I thought! And the market district had so much interesting stuff!”

“Sounds like you had fun,” Drayce said with a smile. “That’s good.”

It was best that they didn’t tell the two about what had occurred in the labyrinth that day just yet. Maybe after dinner. Just so they’d, too, be cautious about any possibly (and likely) future meetings with those bandits.

Ashton appeared from the back of the guildhouse. It was more than highly likely that he had been inspecting the boundaries, too. Or just inspecting the windows and doors.

Upon seeing that their guests had returned, Ashton placed a smile to his lips and motioned toward Tokala. “Good, just in time to help me with dinner.”

“Got it!” Tokala answered readily and once again cheerfully before he hurried to follow Ashton to the kitchen.

“Hey, Salim, why not do some fishing? We’ll need that for dinner tonight,” Drayce suggested. Both wanting the pugilist to be doing something as he knew his need to keep moving. And for him to be outside should Blayke need a hand or two.

Salim seemed grateful for the suggest. “Yeah, alright. Anything for food.”

It was honestly good to see that they were settling in well within the Crescentia.

With everyone back under the same roof, Drayce felt a sense of relief wash over him. He turned on his heel and headed back up the stairs and made a beeline to Faelen’s room. The door wasn’t closed the entirely way, indicating that the young therian inside wanted some quiet time to himself, but did not want to be locked away from the rest of his guildmates entirely.

“Fae?” Drayce called out before he slowly pushed opened the door.

Faelen at on the end of his bed with Nashoba’s head resting on his lap. It appeared that he had been stroking the wolf’s fur, likely to help calm himself. Or out of absentmindedness as he mused about the day’s events.

“Are you all right?” Drayce asked as he stepped into the room, allowing the door to remain ajar behind him.

Faelen perked his head up at the sound of his voice and immediately turned toward him. “Um, yeah. I’m ok.”

Drayce sat down on the bed next to him. “You sure?”

Faelen’s flatten slightly against his head and he returned to running his fingers through Nashoba’s fur. “I’m sorry about the token,” he said, guilt in his voice as he turned his eyes toward his wolf companion.

“Don’t be silly,” Drayce immediately returned. “It’s that bandit’s fault.”

“But that token was useful, right?” Faelen asked softly as he rubbed Nashoba’s ear.

“Perhaps,” Drayce answered honestly. “We don’t know for sure. But, hey, there’s likely other tokens out there, too. And we have the map.”

Faelen nodded his head idly. But Drayce could still see and feel his guilt. Which was unfair. Faelen shouldn’t feel guilt for something that wasn’t his fault. “You gave it up pretty quick.”

“Of course, I did.” Drayce slipped an arm around Faelen’s shoulders and pulled him toward him so that he leaned up against him, his head on his shoulder. “You’re far more precious than any treasure.”

Faelen stilled for a moment before he rested against him fully and comfortably. “...That makes me happy,” he whispered to himself. He then tilted his head back to look up at him. “Drayce?”

“Hm?”

“That also wasn’t your fault, you know?” Faelen said firmly as he looked into his eyes.

That startled Drayce for a moment. Though, guilt was probably coming off of him in waves. He was the guild leader, after all. It was his job, his purpose to keep others safe. Though, if he asked anyone if what happened was his fault, they would all tell him that it wasn’t. Still...

Faelen suddenly frowned as he turned to look upon Nashoba once more. “Keita…didn’t seem that bad at the start. He was kinda funny.”

Yeah, there wasn’t anything really to indicate that the kid was a bandit. Still, there was something about him that made Drayce believe that he wasn’t a hundred percent truthful in his actions or words.

Blayke, on the other hand, was downright suspicious of him.

That, strangely enough, brought a small smile to Drayce’s lips. “…Blayke didn’t like him.” And Nashoba made a soft whining sound, as if agreeing with him.

Faelen gave a soft half chuckle. “Blayke was kinda funny, too.”

“Hm.” Drayce made a noise of agreement as he ruffled Faelen’s hair. He was glad that he was feeling better. “He’s wonderfully snappy. You should see him when he’s tired and annoyed.”

Faelen giggled before he fell into a contemplative silence. “…I don’t think he would have hurt me.”

Maybe so, but there was still a possibility that he would have. “I wasn’t going to chance it.”

Faelen nodded his head. “Drayce?”

“Hm?”

Faelen suddenly pivoted in his spot and hugged him around the waist, burying his head into his chest. “You really are like a brother to me, you know?” he murmured against the fabric of his shirt. “I’m glad I met you.”

Drayce immediately wrapped his arms around the younger rover and rested his chin atop his head. “You’re like a brother to me, too.”

And that meant he wasn’t going to allow anyone to hurt his guildmates. He didn’t care what happened to him personally. But no one was allowed to threaten or attempt to harm anyone from his guild.

Ever.

[tornbetween2loves]

My Heart Torn Apart, 5 years later

Stormholt’s Secrets

This is the next part in my series My Heart Torn Apart, 5 years later. You can catch up on previous parts on my masterlist here.

Warnings: Riley, Liam and Drake are in a polyamorous relationship in this series. Most parts are at least a little NSFW. If this sort of relationship offends you, please don’t read it. There is also mention of my TCTF series, A Story Worth Telling. You can also find that series on my masterlist linked above.

I have to thank my good friend @kennaxval for helping me develop the idea for this storyline. You truly inspire me, my friend, and I appreciate you so much ❤️

Taglist: @kennaxval @boneandfur @bobasheebaby @drakewalkerwhipped @femmeshep @hhiggs @lizeboredom @pb-boeboe @klaudiana-beaumontkkreal @tmarie82 @writtenbycandy @xxrainbowprincessxx-deactivated @speedyoperarascalparty @darley1101 @katurrade @lodberg @bella-ca @indiacater @hopefulmoonobject @missevabean @walkerismychoice @eileendannie @museofbooks @jared2612 @h3llostrang3r @ooo-barff-ooo @alesana45 @debramcg1106 @stopforamoment

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them.

Word Count: 1,791

Stormholt’s Secrets

An uneasy silence settled over the limo as Liam, Riley and Drake rode to Stormholt. Riley stared out the window, eyeing the castle at the top of the hill as the limo winded it’s way up the mountain. She had never been to the old castle before and was very curious. But her nerves were so on edge she could hardly enjoy it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm the familiar fluttering in the pit of her belly. Another vomiting episode was the last thing she needed. She opened the mini fridge and grabbed a small can of ginger ale to slip into her purse.

They arrived early, before the press. Only the staff bustled about, setting up tables and chairs and decorating. Madeline stood in the center of the courtyard of the castle, barking orders to various staff. There was no working kitchen facilities at the old castle, so all the food had been prepared off site and transported. People were hurriedly spreading table cloths on the tables and placing matching chair covers on the chairs. Strings of white twinkle lights spanned the courtyard and entwined around the centerpieces of each table. The royal table was at the front of the room and behind it hung the large portrait of Queens Kenna and Valentina. More lights were strewn about the portrait, basking the queens in a soft glow. Madeline smiled as they approached her.

“This is amazing Madeline,” Liam said. “Everything looks so great.” “Thank you, your majesty.” She paused to wave someone over. A short woman with shoulder-length mousy brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses approached. “Your majesties, this is Esther Rousch. She is the curator of the museum here at Stormholt. She has prepared a suite for you all to rest and freshen up.” The woman turned and smiled brightly as she bowed. “If you’ll follow me your majesties, I’ll show you the way.” They followed her into the castle and down a long corridor. She stopped at a doorway near the end. “These rooms were the queens’ chambers. They have been updated for modern use.” She opened the door to find Bastien and Mara inside the room. They moved to exit the room. “This room is all clear your majesty,”Bastien said. “We will be right outside if you need us.” They bowed and exited. Esther gave them a quick tour of the suite.

“This is obviously the bedroom. There are clothes hanging in the closet if you feel the need to change. The bathroom is through that door over there. The door on the other side of the room leads to a small sitting room. There you’ll find a tv and some books from the Stormholt library. Please make yourself comfortable.” She turned to the door, then looked back over her shoulder. “Should you need anything, your majesties, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Your guards will be able to reach me.” She left and the three of them were alone at last. They let out a collective sigh. Riley walked around the bedroom, taking in the surroundings. “This is so surreal. It’s crazy to think this is the same room where Kenna and Val slept each night.” Liam nodded in agreement. “Yes it is strange to be here. Let’s try and relax a bit before dinner.”

They moved into the sitting room and sat down on the couch. There was a coffee table in the center of the room covered in books and magazines. “Some of these books look really old,” Riley said as she picked one up. She read the title out loud. “A Story Worth Telling: The Queens of Stormholt.” Drake groaned and rolled his eyes as Liam chuckled. Riley looked back and forth between them. “What? Have you read this book?” “Oh, we’ve both read it all right,” Drake answered. “It is required reading for all Cordonian high school students,” Liam said. “Oh really? What is it a history book?” She looked at the cover of the book. It was written by M. Drammir. She opened the book to read the inscription. It read, For the loves of my life. Beneath that there was a handwritten inscription, so faded it could barely be read.

My queens, your story has truly been worth telling. I will love you both always. Michael.

Riley’s mouth dropped open. “Hey guys, I think this is a really, really old copy of this book,” she said as she flipped the page. Her eyes widened as she saw it was marked as a first edition. Liam glanced over her shoulder curiously. “Wow, is that a handwritten inscription?” She nodded and handed the book to Liam. “Hmmm, how crazy that it’s just lying here on the table with the other books. It should probably be in the museum.” Riley shook her head. “I’d like to read it. Can I take it back to the palace?” Liam shrugged. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Meanwhile, Drake had stood up and was searching a bookshelf on the wall across from the door. “Does something about this shelf seem odd to you?” Liam and Riley walked over to check it out. All of the books were pretty old and looked like they hadn’t been moved in centuries. They all were exactly the same size. But one book was slightly larger and looked a tad out of place with the others. Drake reached out to grab the book, but discovered it was a lever. He tilted the book forward as far as it would go and they heard a click as the entire bookshelf began to pull away from the wall. “It appears to be a door,” Liam said as he pulled on the shelf and it began to open on it’s hinges. A cloud of dust burst into the room, sending them into a coughing fit as they waited for the dust to settle. Behind the shelf was a small alcove containing one small, leather-bound book.

“All this effort to hide a book?” Drake exclaimed as he reached for it. Riley clapped her hands with excitement. “I’ll bet there’s lots of secrets in there.” He handed the book to Riley. The cover was blank. She opened it and found it was a handwritten journal. She opened to the first page and read it aloud.

16 June 1520

Today I arrived at Stormholt. Queen Kenna is as beautiful as Val described. But I feel it is going to take some time to convince her that this arrangement benefits us all. I will work on winning her favor and trust. Hopefully if she trusts me enough to tell the story of the unification of the Five Kingdoms, she will trust me enough to invite me into her heart and home. Val is anxious for us all to be together, but I had to explain that these things can’t be rushed.

“Wait. The warrior queens had a man?” Riley said in shock. Liam shook his head. “No, there is no mention of a third party in their relationship. Their relationship was very unconventional at the time as it was. Same-sex marriage wasn’t really widely accepted back then.” Riley’s head snapped up to meet Liam’s eyes. “I got it! That’s why Madeline changed the venue to here for the announcement. And why she wanted the portrait of the queens. She wants to show a parallel between us and the queens.” Drake scratched his head with a confused look. “I don’t get it. The queens weren’t known to have a third.”

Liam turned to Drake. “Yes, you are right love, however, they did have a very unconventional union for the times. Just like us. And they managed to stay strong and united and rule for the rest of their lives.” He smiled big. “Madeline may be a genius. This plan may just work.” Riley closed the book and put it with her things. “I’m taking this journal back to the palace as well. I feel like it has many secrets to reveal.”

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

After relaxing for another hour or so, there was a knock on the main door of the suite. Bastien entered. “Your majesties, it is almost time for your entrance.” Madeline entered after Bastien. “We will stop and have a brief press conference before dinner is served. This will be your chance to publicly announce your marriage. I have also prepared written statements for all three of you to give to the press. Please read them over and sign them and I will hand them over.” They nodded and signed the papers and Madeline left. “Bastien, may we please have a moment alone?” Liam asked. “Of course, sir,” he said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

Liam turned to face Riley and Drake. He grasped one of their hands in each of his. “I just want you both to know that I love you so much. I promise that we will be together no matter the outcome of today.” They hugged and headed out the door.

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

“Have you read over the speech I gave you,” Madeline asked as she straightened Liam’s tie. They were waiting behind a makeshift stage where the announcement would be made. Guests and members of the press began filtering into the room. Television cameras were set up in the back of the room. The whole thing was to be broadcast live. “Yes, Madeline, I read it. I wish to speak what’s in my heart. I would like to draw from the parallels you’ve drawn in this speech and combine them with my own thoughts.” Madeline sighed and looked Liam in the eyes. “I know better than to try and convince you otherwise. Just please try and stick to the speech as much as possible.” Liam nodded and turned to Riley and Drake. “My king, how are you not trembling from the nerves,” Riley asked with a concerned look. Even Drake looked worried. “Yes. I feel like all of our lives are hanging in the balance right now. This is a turning point for Cordonia.”

Liam smiled reassuringly and took each of their hands. “My loves, I am not nervous. You must understand that our lives have already took a turn for the better when we decided to marry. We are united, no matter the outcome of today. It matters not what the people think. If they choose not to support us, so be it. Maybe they will revolt. Or protest. Or slander us in the press. Whatever happens, we will endure together.” They smiled at each other and Liam kissed each of them on the forehead. Then they joined hands and walked out on the stage to face the future.

[deadly-dearie-moved]

updated faq and taglist

question: who or what are you? answer: i’m celia ernestine. some people call me ernie. i have no favored pronouns, you may refer to me as whatever you like, but i generally go by female/she/her. i run this multimuse roleplay blog, and all my muses are also my c'kins/c'links.

question: what’s a c'kin/c'link? answer: coping kin, or coping link, c'kin/c'link for short, are kins used to cope with mental illnesses or personality disorders.

question: what’s the purpose of this blog? answer: for me to have fun, find peace, cope with my illness and relax. i post the things i love and find cute. sometimes i post nsfw and pretty intense themes too, so i’d rather have you be at least 16 years old. but who am i to tell you anything, i’m not your mum.

question: you mentioned you use this blog to ‘cope with your illness’. what illness? answer: i have borderline personality disorder, impulsive type, and antisocial personality disorder, covetous type. please look it up when you’re interested in what it is.

question: is there something i should avoid when getting it contact with you? answer: please read my rules before interacting. please use trigger warnings for graphic descriptions or pictures. if we never talked before and i don’t reply within two days, i’m probably not around, please be a bit more patient. if i’ve already given you a heads up before, or just don’t feel comfortable with you or your muse(s) to the point i don’t want to interact anymore, i most likely deleted your message. re-sending a message or nudging me to reply won’t make me reply faster, it will only piss me off, and when i’m pissed off, there is a good chance that i will maybe not talk to you for even longer, so please just be patient and wait until i reply. you can ask me if the message even arrived, though, because sometimes it just gets lost on the way. also, please keep your hate, muse bullying and spamming to yourselves; life is hard enough without anyone getting on my nerves anyway.

question: do i need to be afraid of you because of your kins and illness? answer: not at all, darling. despite the personality disorders, my kins/muses are all pretty chill. xibalba might be a bit uncomfortable sometimes because he kind of gives me a holier-than-thou attitude and makes me feel divine, but it’s also a pretty fun shift, with lots of dark humor, sarcasm and innuendos. same with lucifer, actually, but he’s a bit more pained and perverted. the ernesto shift is the shift i experience the most, it’s the most similar to my actual personality. he’s a funny guy, very talkative and outgoing and protective most of the time, but he can also have his… phases. tharja shifts are very uncomfortable, i mostly get them when i’m very angry or very sad; she hates people, she hates existence itself and wishes to destroy everything and everyone. luckily, it passes rather quickly. the shift i experience the least often is camilla, but she’s very warm and loving, a soft and kind soul most of the time.

question: what else is there to know about you? answer: i can be a tad childish sometimes and like to give myself and others cutesy nicknames, please bare with me. i use endearing pronouns and heart emojis a lot. i looove getting to know people, so don’t be shy, you can talk to be about anything you want and i’ll be sure to answer when i can!

tag list

xibalba - posts about xibalba.

ernesto - posts about ernesto de la cruz.

camilla - posts about princess camilla of nohr.

tharja - posts about tharja.

lucifer - posts about lucifer.

the book of life/tbol - posts about the book of life in general.

coco - posts about coco in general.

fire emblem fates/conquest/birthright - posts about fire emblem fates in general.

fire emblem awakening - posts about fire emblem awakening in general.

lucifer series - posts about the lucifer series in general.

nsfw ...ish - posts that contain slight nsfw.

nsfw - posts that contain nudity or sexual themes.

yandere/yande.re/obsessive/possessive - posts that contain unhealthily obsessive or possessive themes.

mi amor - posts about la muerte.

beloved - posts about héctor rivera.

dearest - posts about benny.

sweetie - posts about ignatius.

wifey - posts about sartana of the dead.

curse magnet - posts about virion.

angel - posts about chloe decker.

charlotte - posts about charlotte de la cruz (adopted daughter/oc).

machete - posts about machete, son of sartana (adopted son).

django - posts about django, son of machete (adopted grandson).

camila - posts about camila, wife of machete (adopted daughter-in-law/oc).

gravepainters - muse shipping, xibalba/la muerte.

ernector - muse shipping, ernesto/héctor.

benilla - muse shipping, benny/camilla.

virja - muse shipping, virion/tharja.

sarnesto - muse shipping, ernesto/sartana.

deckerstar - muse shipping, lucifer/chloe.

bpd/actuallybpd/beingbpd/tw bpd - posts about borderline personality disorder. aspd/actuallyaspd/beingaspd/tw aspd - posts about antisocial personality disorder.

ask/answered/unanswered - answered or unanswered asks (duh).

ask/rp/not rp/rp related - whether an ask is an rp ask, rp related or not (duhh).

reply/continued - continued rp by reblog.

headcanon/my post/mine - i think you can imagine what this means.

any other tags are mostly self explanatory.

sucess doesn’t come for free (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful ernesto answers.

el mundo es mi familia (family) - ernesto’s family members

he’s a threat (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful ernesto answers.

seize your moment (nsfw) - nsfw ernesto answers.

much needed advice - advice from ernesto.

you’re so cute (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful camilla answers.

sorry darling (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful ernesto answers.

no matter where you are i’ll be there (family) - xibalba’s family members. how about a wager? (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful xibalba answers. you cheated - again! (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful xibalba answers.

will keep this list updated.

[theonyxpath]

Just today, Monday, we launched the Kickstarter campaign for Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition!

We’re really thrilled to be able to do this, as Geist has been a bit of a sore spot for us, and some of our community too, for years. First edition was the last of the new World of Darkness game settings to be created by the original White Wolf, during my time as WW creative director. It never got the releases and support it could have, mostly by the sheer unfortunate timing of when it arrived.

So gather ’round, kiddos, and Unca Rich will tell you a Geist story.

Despite the stellar sales of Changeling: The Lost, and excellent sales of Hunter: The Vigil, not to mention the Scion and Exalted lines, we received just absolutely abysmal pre-orders from the distribution chain for GtSE 1st Edition. We even had word that one buyer for the book trade hated it and wouldn’t order any supplements. Which was a significant percentage of our usual pre-orders. The entire company was transitioning in the years after the CCP merger, and developer Ethan Skemp, a rock of reliability, attention to detail, and excellent game design, got sick midway through finishing the book.

Basically, Geist was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Scion Hero art by Enzo Lopez

    So the first edition was a fair bit jumbled, and hard to find. The only supplement we did was made a “blue book” nWoD release rather than a Geist one (we tricked you, book trade buyer!) and events rushed forward and everything game studio-wise was eased back as the WoD MMO became priority #1.

Geist first edition went up on DriveThru, and those who found it seemed to love the feeling of it, and have issues with the rules. As time went by, I read those messages, and felt pretty bad about the wounded thing we had published. It was, after all, a project I had greenlit, one of my babies, and while I was trying to keep an eye on things in WW‘s remaining game studio, I was also nostrils deep in the MMO.

When Eddy and I created the CCP Transmedia group after V20, one of the first projects on our very limited slate was a revised version of Geist first edition. Not a new edition, but a fixed-up one. I think it was Eddy who first called it Geist 1.1, and in April 2012 it was put up on DTRPG.

And a funny thing happened.

Sales happened.

Continuing healthy sales. Somebody was out there, and they sure seemed devoted to Geist. What a wonderful thing to discover about a game and setting that seemed like it was stillborn. But actually, once folks could get a cleaned up version, people kept buying it.

This realization coincided with the timing of creating the first Dark Eras book, and when backers were voting for which lines to appear in which Dark Eras there was pretty intense lobbying for Geist. Huh. More confirmation. If you haven’t yet, you can check out the Geist sections in both Dark Eras and the Dark Eras Companion volume here on DTRPG: http://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse/pub/4261/Onyx-Path-Publishing/subcategory/27199/Dark-Eras

The Dark Eras books were, in fact, the method we had to deliver new material, albeit historical, for all of the new World of Darkness lines as they transitioned into the Chronicles of Darkness and we moved forward with creating their second editions. (Which is a very, very, cleaned-up and simplified version of the tortuous transition, indeed. And a story for another times, kiddos.)

    Wraith20 Handbook for the Recently Deceased art by Michael Gaydos

    Which, basically, brings us to this Kickstarter for Geist 2nd Edition. Spearheaded by the titanically talented Travis Stout and a fantastic team of writers, nurtured by Rose Bailey and Dixie Cochran, with stunning art that you can see represented on the KS page…this is truly the second chance for the “game of second chances”!

Now, we still don’t know what size audience we’ll have for this KS, nor how fast we’ll fund, or how many Stretch Goals we’ll achieve. (I was thinking about stopping mid-sentence and going into the next line, like I was caught off-guard by some sort of alarm, but honestly, I stopped with “achieve” and went and checked the KS hoping I could say the next paragraph right now).

And BOOM! as I was writing this little tale, the Geist 2e Kickstarter has funded in 9.75 hours! Thanks to everyone who contributed so far, and to all of you who will help us bring forth a new 2nd Edition version of this awesome game by pledging this next month! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/geist-the-sin-eaters-2nd-edition

Phew!

    Scion Hero art by Marco Gonzales

      Meanwhile last Friday, our Onyx Pathcast featured Dixie, Eddy, and Matthew telling tales of the freelancer lifestyle and just what that means. Lots of creativity, lots of communication with the clients depending on you, lots of making sure you have another gig in the works. You can hear them on your preferred podcast service, or right here on PodBean: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

This coming Friday, the Terrible Trio of Terror will be interviewing the terrific Danielle Lauzon, who has been just tearing up the place developing Vampire: The Requiem 2nd, a lot of brilliant work on Storypath generally, and the Trinity Continuum specifically, and she’s been a mover and shaker on the new releases for 7th Sea for John Wick Presents.

Finally, in other news, it’s the 4th of July holiday Wednesday here in the US, so a lot of us will be out of the office that day, although we will have our usual Wednesday “on sale alert”. Some of our shipping services also have a day or two off, so that’s throwing some pre-Gen Con plans off a tad, but we’re adjusting. Make sure you watch the musical 1776 (an inspiration for “Hamilton“), and keep your pets inside away from the loud noises for the holiday.

And with that, I’ve leave you with these fours words of wisdom muttered by John Adams on his deathbed:

Many Worlds, One Path!

    BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

The Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition Kickstarter began today (Monday) and already has funded as I write this. We want to be able to make a great looking hardcover edition, and get that into stores while giving backers first look at the complete text and other fun benefits: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/geist-the-sin-eaters-2nd-edition

Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition includes all the rules you need to play as one of the Bound: Five Burdens reflecting the cause that pulled you back from the grave, five krewe Archetypes for building your own mystery religion, and the Haunts, Keys, and Ceremonies that provide the Bound with their macabre powers.

It also includes the Chronicle of the Dead, featuring the Sin-Eaters’ struggle against the all-consuming Underworld and a variety of terrifying threats. In addition, for the first time in the Chronicles of Darkness line, ghosts are presented as playable characters.

Chapters include:

The Quick and the Dead: the five Burdens (the reason a Sin-Eater comes back from the dead and what draws a particular geist to them) and krewe Archetypes (the common cause that draws a krewe of Sin-Eaters together).

The Road Back: On death and coming back, and why Bound make the Bargain, including possible consequences.

One Foot in the Grave: Character creation, with sections on both geist and krewe creation, Anchors, Merits, Synergy, Plasm, Abilities, Haunts, Keys, Ceremonies, and Mementos.

Old Laws: the core Chronicles of Darkness rules, with special rules for playing Sin-Eaters, as well as information on subsystems for krewes, ghosts, and the Underworld, including Avernian Gates.

Antagonists: villains for your Geist chronicle, including Reapers, Eaters of the Dead, necromancers, enemy Bound, and Kerberoi.

The Quiet Places: Setting information and story hooks for playing your Geist chronicle in specific times and places in history., from 16th-century Brazil to modern-day Edinburgh, Scotland to Mobile, Alabama in 1910, as well as information on Dominions.

Ghost Stories: Storyteller advice and information for running a Geist chronicle, including designing Remembrances, how to set theme and mood, story seeds, and various ways to play out the end of a game.

Appendix: The Absent: This Appendix details the Absent, playable ghosts, including Memories, new Merits, and a collection of possible ghost characters to expand on and use in your chronicle.

Appendix: Conditions and Tilts: Geist-specific Conditions and Tilts, including ephemeral Influence Conditions and Manifestation Conditions for ghosts, as well as Haunt Conditions and Tilts.

    ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

    ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

      OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

    Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

      DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

Following up last week’s Sword and Sorcery Day, with the first-ever Amazon and Nook store releases of the epubs for the first edition Scarred Lands fiction Dead God Trilogy: Forsaken: Book One, Forsworn: Book Two, and Forbidden: Book Three!

      CONVENTIONS!

Prep is seriously underway for Gen Con 2018 in the first week of August, which takes place in Indianapolis. In addition to our booth presence, be sure to check out the games and panels in the Gen Con Event Schedule.

From Fast Eddy Webb, we have these:

Eddy will be speaking at Broadleaf Writers Conference (September 22-23) in Decatur, GA. He’ll be there to talk about writing for interactive fiction, and hanging out with other writers who have far more illustrious careers. http://broadleafwriters.com/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference-speakers/

Eddy will also be a featured guest at Save Against Fear (October 12-14) in Harrisburg, PA. He’ll be running some Pugmire games, be available for autographs, and will sometimes accept free drinks. http://www.thebodhanagroup.org/about-the-convention

If you are going and want to meet up, let us know!

    And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Adventures for Curious Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

  Redlines

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Changeling: The Lost 2nd Jumpstart (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

  Second Draft

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

Dog and Cat Ready Made Characters (Monarchies of Mau)

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

C20 Players’ Guide (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

In Media Res (Trinity Continuum: Core)

  Development

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

Fetch Quest (Pugmire)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

  Manuscript Approval:

  Editing:

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

  Post-Editing Development:

Scion: Hero (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

GtS Geist 2e core (Geist: the Sin-Eaters Second Edition)

M20 Gods and Monsters (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Night Horrors: The Tormented (Promethean: The Created 2nd Edition)

Guide to the Night (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

  Indexing:

Monarchies of Mau (Monarchies of Mau)

    ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Trinity Continuum – Workin’ on it… the priority.

Geist 2e

The Realm

M20 Gods and Monsters

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – More more sketches coming in.

Promethean Night Horrors: The Tormented – Sketches and finals almost all in.

VtR – Guide to the Night 

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – Eddy’s notes are approved… so getting Mark on fulls and Riley on splats.

  Marketing Stuff

Posters and Displays

  In Layout

Fetch Quest – Playtest decks uploaded.

Scion Hero

Cavaliers of Mars Cards

  Proofing

Scion Origin – Onyx review finishes, comments sent to Neall and OK’d, now being input.

Changeling: the Lost 2 – Josh is working on the interior fixing.

Cavaliers of Mars – Dropping in the Index and sending it over to Rose for a final once over.

  At Press

V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary & Beckett Screen & V20 Dice – KS backer rewards shipping.

Scion Dice – At fulfillment shipper.

Monarchies of Mau – In Indexing.

Monarchies of Mau Screen – Screen proof this week.

Cavaliers of Mars Screen – Screen proof this week.

Wr20 Guide for Newly Departed – PoD proofs shipping.

Gen Con Buttons – At press.

WoD and CofD reroll cards – At press.

FQ and PG Gen Con cards – At press.

Wraith 20 Screen – Screen proof this week.

GenCon Brochure – Printing.

Storypath Brochure – Files sent to printer.

Wraith 20th – PoD files uploaded.

  TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: This space needs to stop being for memorials – last week we lost one of the most awarded and prolific speculative fantasy writers, ever: Harlan Ellison died in his sleep at the age of 84. Which is an amazingly inappropriate way for that angry young man to go out. A ruptured aorta while spewing invectives into the venal face of mediocrity, or a fiery bounce-back from a Molotov cocktail, maybe. But in his sleep? Well, you fought the good fight longer than most, Harlan, and you always had a keen eye and ear for irony (and a sailor’s mouth), so go in peace, you who whipped inspiration into so many of us. You earned it.

[mischiefruled]

week #1 - organizing & outlining

So, just got through with my first week at uni. Only two lectures so far, both mostly full of introductions and occasional interruptions by a healthinspection team for corona. Honestly, didn’t learn anything I hadnt already in a levels, but thats ok. Introductory classes after all. I’m just hoping my one edge lasts when I’m in a class fullll of kids from families of law firms and politicians. 

Right now I have a few questions I need to answer.

What do I give priority to here at the start?

How should I divide my studies up? What types of notes should I make? How should I go about this?

What resources do I need to pick and look for?

What is the purpose of this blog?

ANSWER #1

I have a lot to improve on. But to look at each thing is so overwhelming that it leaves me in a state of paralyis. So for now, Im listing them out in order of importance to me

> Get my shit in order. Collect my books, get my new laptop, and set up a good study space

> Figure out my routine. I hate routine. But without any good transport methods it becomes necessary. Two issues with this, one that my mom is difficult and doesnt give me a lot of control on my own schedule. Second is that the library has the texts, but my home has the laptop. I suppose I’ll start taking my ext hard drive but it’ll still be a tad inconvenient

> Make friends and connections. I really need to set up a study system, I like stuydying with people. I also need people to fall back on in case I miss lectures and the like. As much as I hate interacting with people who I can’t be myself around, it will be a necessity. Tangentially related, I need to figure out how I want to appear to others + buy some new clothes for God’s sake.

> Learn TOUCH TYPING. This will be essential if our exams will be given online. Even now I’m typing with jsut two fingers. god. Need to get a speed of 80wpm by the end of this year. Please.

ANSWER #2

I’ve got 5 notebooks so far: class notes, personal notes, cases and summaries, general notebook? [not so sure about this one], and I plan on buying a binder with loose paper to organize final notes. Another thing I need to consider is using OneNote, but that’ll be easier when I finally get my own laptop.

I’ll divide by subject, subjects into chapters, then each chapter as a whole into different aspects to study with. 

Primary notes [study guide] + Extra material notes + core concepts and analysis. 

Furthermore, summarize each chapter in my own words in an essay form. A blog post from an old LLB UoL graduate recommedned something similar.

Finally, do the activities and tasks at the end of the module.

Now, further along the road, I should start looking up past papers and examiners reports. I should regularly consult my professors too, ask them on my methods and clear up any confusion I may have in my core concepts. Perhaps I’ll find a purpose for that general notebook after all in this regard lol

ANSWER #3

I dont quite know why I asked myself that on this blog post... I’m already looking through the study guide for stuff to refer to. Must remind myself to consult professors on what material is most necessary as well.

ANSWER #4

A few things come to mind. i want this blog to motivate me, first of all.

Collect tips, advice, and resources

Weekly summaries of what I’ve done and how uni went and general areas I need to improve upon

Perhaps I should upload chapter summary essays on here too. If I type out my notes on cases as well I will post them here.

Links and stuff I find interesting

Organize my reading list and how far I am with them. Include them in my weekly updates. Perhaps my weekly updates should also contain my goals for the week

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

WELL now that ive managed to spell all that out for myself, I think ill just talk about other stuff now.

the teachers seem nice. the criminal law prof does sound a bit intimidating but the lsm professor was very lax, and the contract law prof was very helpful in explanations and i had a talk with him about materials.

i met three people in class so far, janita, sofia, and zainab. i will try talking to them more, but theyre all rather shy in my opinion. i met an IR student called nawal, she was very sweet and likes makeup and fashion. we talked enthusiastically within moments of meeting one another, i cant even remember how many topics we bounced back and forth between. very easy to talk to, and she doesnt have an instagram so.. well not to be superficial , but that does my raise my opinion of her.

thats all for the personal section

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

WEEKS GOALS

get laptop 

make fee payment to uol

pester SWQ for study guide. i know he has some copies squirelled away i know it..!!!

ask about student gym + again pester SWQ abt the current library system cause.. wtf!

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

READING

In order of importance

LSM UoL study guide [5/7]

Criminal Law UoLstudy guide [3/15]

Public Law UoL study guide [0/20]

Contract Law UoL study guide [0/17]

Learning Legal Rules [0/12]

I made it through 5 chapters with notes within a week. Assuming I can up the pace to about 6, I can manage to get halfway through the rest of these study guides within 3 or 4 weeks.

 I only need to get halfway through, because I need to be slightly ahead of the class, not fully. Then I can focus on learning through textbooks, starting with LSM. It’s the most boring, so Id like it out of the way as soon as possible.

[astraeawrites]

A Guide to Residential/Rehab For Minors

This guide will go over some vocabulary/slang terms often used, the process in which you get brought into the residential, and what it’s really like there. This was requested by an anon.

Disclaimer: This guide was not made to support the use of mental illness as a cheap storyline. This guide was made to provide accuracy for those who wish to utilize this subject maturely and truthfully. This is mainly based on my own experience as well as a collection of some of my friends’ experiences, used with the permission of those individuals. This is also based on the residentials based in California and laws will vary place to place. If there is anything I’m missing or anything you found to be incorrect, feel free to message me. This guide is also subject to change and revision; updates will be labeled as such.

Triggers: General mental health issues (ex: self-harm, eating disorders, depression, suicide attempts, drug use, drinking).

The following information is broken up into varying chapters/sections. If you would like to know what to expect or skip ahead, use the following titles as a reference point. ( CTRL + F and copy and paste the desired chapter/section to be brought there; you can also use this method to search for any key words you may be looking for ).

Basic Information

What Determines Treatment

Entering the Residential Life

Important Rules

Contraband and Other Banned Items  

Key Points to Everyday Life

Staff Responsibilities

The Level System

The Points System

Another Thing to Note

Common Vocabulary

Basic Information

Before we get too deep, I think it’s important to go over the basic outline of the mental health system. Usually, the steps you take would include the following: hospitalization, residential/rehabilitation, partial hospitalization program, intensive outpatient program, and typical therapy. Let’s take some time to analyze each step so you can understand where your character/story would fit in.

Hospitalization is the highest level of care. It is the stage in which you are a danger to yourself or others. Since I’ve already done a guide to this, I won’t get too into it, but the primary difference between these two things is that residentials do not lock the doors while hospitals are full-lockdown. If you want to read more about mental hospitals for minors, please redirect yourself HERE.

Residential treatment center (RTC) is the second level of care. This can vary place to place, but it my experience, the doors are not locked and the staff is not allowed to touch you. Residential tends to allow a person more freedom while still maintaining a safe place to stay. I’ll talk more about this later since the guide is about RTCs.

Partial hospitalization programs (PHP) are the third level of care. Usually, teens and adults that are released from a residential program go to a partial hospitalization program. In most cases, this is a five-day program (Monday-Friday). You live at home, or at a sober living if you are an addict, and it will normally take place from 8:30 AM to 3:00 PM; however, mine took place from 12:30 PM to 6:45 PM, which is unusual.

Intensive outpatient programs (IOP) are the level of care that can sometimes come directly after residential or simply after PHP. If a person skips PHP and goes straight to IOP after residential, it is usually because they are going back to school or already have a job. But really, this is rare since residential to IOP is still a huge step-down. Anyways, in this stage, you go to the program about three days during the week. Some places let you pick any three days out of the week, but most will have you come in on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. IOP hours vary but are almost always about 4 hours long. Mine was from 3:00 PM to 6:45 PM.

Typical therapy is simply the usual one day a week. I don’t know what to call it since most people just call it therapy, but I wanted to differentiate it a tad. Anyways, this is pretty straight forward so I won’t get into it.

What Determines Treatment

As seen in my timeline above, you will usually come into a residential after coming out of the hospital. However, this isn’t always the case. Some people come in from PHP, IOP, or therapy. As long as it has been determined that you are safe enough to go straight to residential, you’re in.

Since we have an understanding of the timeline, let’s discuss what would qualify a person to end up in residential. To give you an idea, click HERE to see a screenshot of some questions from the website of my old residential. Now, this was for a dual-diagnosis program and was geared toward clients with drug use and mental illness so take it with a grain of salt. The general idea remains, though. It is for teens who need help and need to get that help away from home with 24-hour supervision, but not in a lockdown facility.

The type of people in these facilities vary. Without getting too into it, the first time I went into a residential, I was there for depression and anxiety. The second time, I was there for depression, anxiety, drug abuse, and excoriation disorder. This is just to give you a vague idea of the type of disorders you will see. Some facilities cater to specific issues like drug abuse, depression, or eating disorders. Others are there for a more broad approach and are typically referred to as dual-diagnosis programs. Trichotillomania, obsessive compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, oppositional defiant disorder, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder, Asperger's syndrome, and court ordered rehabilitation are just a short list of diagnoses I have come across in my time as a patient. It is not limited to these disorders, however, and can sometimes be something as simple as overprotective parents that over exaggerate their child’s issues.

As mentioned before, there are different places that can sometimes specialize in one specific disorder so it is important to determine whether a dual-diagnosis program would be better than, let’s say, an eating disorder residential.

Entering the Residential Life

Arrival to a residential is nothing like arriving at a hospital or being transferred. You are almost always driven by your parents. The only case I’ve seen where the parent didn’t drive their kid, was because they lived far and needed a police escort. The times that I’ve been on my way from a hospital to a residential, I’ve gotten food to eat and used my phone. It’s up to the parents to make stops and whatnot, but usually, they will not. Stopping makes it easier for a teen to not comply and try to escape, which is not what we want.

When you arrive, you are faced with a basic interview. Usually, the first day is the worst. You’re tired and are suddenly thrust into this new world with about five other teens. You’re being dragged in and out of milieu to do interviews with your therapist and say goodbye to your parents. Any belongings you have are given to a staff member and they check in your things. However, bras with underwire, thongs, shoe laces, jacket/sweatshirt/sweatpants strings, sharp items, phones/computers/anything you can use to communicate, and inappropriate clothing are not allowed. Typically, for the first 24 hours of arriving, you are not allowed to make any phone calls because people usually try to persuade their parents to take them out of the residential. You also start out on level one, but I’ll get into that later. Lastly, a folder is given to you that contains the rules, levels, and treatment goals. Again, this will all be explained soon.

Also, you’ll learn who your roommate is. It’s broken up by gender and normally, there’s two boys and four girls. However, in some occasions, the roles are reversed. Of course, this is only for a co-ed house. Some are specifically for females and some are specifically for men. Please note that transgender clients tend to have to room with the gender they were assigned at birth. I’ve only known one person who was allowed to room with a male (he is a female to male), but just know that cases like these are difficult. This isn’t across the board, but typically this WILL cause tension for the other roommate. Just because you are in a treatment facility, don’t expect everyone to be tolerant and politically correct. Remember that these treatment facilities are not just for people that have depression, anxiety, or an eating disorder. These places are also for teens that have behavioral problems so physical altercations can be expected.

Important Rules

The rules are also very basic. Unfortunately, I no longer have that paper so all of this will be based on memory, common sense, and research. They normally don’t have a list of rules they pass out, but they do give you a welcome packet that briefly goes over expectations. In short, the main idea is to avoid triggering topics. This is something that is huge, especially because you never know what’s going to set someone off. There’s also a big no-touch rule. Hugs are not allowed since some people are uncomfortable with that. Blankets are usually not allowed since it’s easy to do inappropriate things with them. No relationships because they can cloud your judgment and stunt your growth. Profanity is also not allowed. Nails should be cut short to avoid self-harm and no contraband at all.

The next big thing is the kitchen. Knives and sharp objects, in general, are locked up. The staff also has to keep count of them to assure that no clients have stolen them. In my last one, literally, EVERYTHING was locked. Only the fridge was unlocked, and this brings us to the next rule! Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the snack time in between meals are the only time you can eat. However, if you are hungry even with all of that, you are allowed to eat fruit or cheese and crackers. Those were the only things we could eat in between meals. Everything you eat or don’t eat is recorded in a binder as well.

This rule isn’t really for drug-related residentials since it’s more for the depression/eating disorder ones. After eating/meal times, the bathrooms are locked for 20-30 minutes. If you really need to use the bathroom, the staff may use their judgment to allow you to go; however, if they let you, it’s uncomfortable. You need to constantly sing or talk whilst doing your “business” so that they know that you are not purging or anything like that.

I know earlier I stated that the doors aren’t locked, but one door that is, would be the bathroom doors. This is just to ensure that clients don’t go in there and smoke or do anything eating disorder-related. This also goes into the line-of-sight rule. At all times, you must be in the line-of-sight of at least one staff members. This means you cannot go wondering off on your own. Doing so will result in consequences and can be considered an AWOL. If you AWOL and while you are in a residential under a court order, you can be arrested. One of my friends did this and he was arrested and taken away for breaking his probation.

Now, this is a part that I don’t particularly love talking about since it has some bad memories attached, but it is important. A 5-foot-rule can be implemented when a person is being inappropriate around you. It can either be requested by you or issued as a punishment for two clients. With me, I had a 5-foot-rule against all the males in the house. One of them was because we were getting too close too fast and the other was because the guy was not respecting personal boundaries. I shit you not when I tell you he whispered sexual things in my ear while rubbing his foot on my leg. Yikes. Anyways, those can be issued and if things improve, they can be revoked. It’s all up to how you and the other person act.

Your room also needs to be clean. You can’t have clothes lying around and your bed needs to be made. If it isn’t you do get taken back to your room so that you can clean it. You are also responsible for doing your laundry on your assigned laundry day. Everything gets a day. Monday through Saturday are usually reserved for each client and Sundays are house cleaning days. That’s basically when towels, sheets, and other things are washed.

Body checks are by far the MOST annoying thing, in my opinion. Every time you leave the house and come back, you are not allowed to do ANYTHING until you get a body check. This consists of going to the bathroom with a staff member, stripping down to your underwear, doing one or two squats, and holding out your arms while you spin in a circle. Then, they check your clothes. This is to ensure that you are not bringing any contraband into the house. This also needs to be done anytime you go back to your room since they want to make sure you’re not hiding things. It’s uncomfortable, inconvenient, and I hate it. Also, girls can only get checked by female staff members and boys can get checked by females or males, though, they prefer to match gender.

Transportation is usually in a van. It’s your stereotypical mom van and the rules are cut and dry. You usually alternate who gets to sit shotgun. This is a highly envied spot since you get ALL radio control. Now, we all know how a van is set up, right? Two front seats, usually three middle seats, and three back seats. Click HERE for a better visualization. I labeled it with numbers to help you understand this. So, basically, a boy and a girl can’t sit next to each other. That’s pretty easy to understand. Now, here’s the kicker: a male staff member cannot sit next to a female client. Yep. For example, if a female client is sitting in seat 6 and a male client is sitting in seat 8, a male staff member CANNOT sit it seat 7. Only a female staff member can. However, a male staff member could sit in the driver’s seat (1) and a female client could sit in the passenger seat (2).

Any physical altercations will result in isolation. This is basically when a client is removed from the group and a staff member sits with them in an isolated setting. In this time, the client may not speak to anyone at all. Failure to comply results in your time resetting. The standard isolation times are anywhere from 7 to 9 hours, but I have seen them go on longer than that.

Contraband and Banned Items

To expand on the contraband subject, let’s go over some things that you can expect to be banned, seized, or used at certain times. In your initial intake, your belts, shoelaces, drawstrings, and any other long strings will be taken away or cut from your clothing. This normally only lasts for a short period and you will eventually get your laces/drawstrings back within a week or so depending on your behavior. Until then, slip-on shoes or sandals are normally what you would wear.

Any sharps are banned. This includes but is not limited to knives, razors, pins, needles, and broken pencils/pens. Even normal pencils or pens are usually contained to a certain room. In my first residential, which was more focused on depression and/or self-harm, the pencils were to be checked out by a staff member. They had a log that they recorded the pencils with and they used this to keep track of them as well. Pencils were not allowed in rooms at all, though, they did give me an exception since, at the time, I was struggling with something that they believed warranted the use of pencils/pens to occupy my time. In my other residential, which was more focused on dual-diagnosis issues, they did not keep track of pens and pencils. They primarily didn’t do it because only two clients were there for suicidal and self-harm reasons.

Outside food/drink/opened containers are prohibited. It doesn’t matter if you have a face wash that was expensive. You need to buy a new bottle and make sure that it is still sealed. Otherwise, they can’t allow it in for the simple reason that they do not know if the contents match the label. Some people could be sneaking in alcohol. Since we’re on the topic of alcohol, no perfumes or hairsprays are allowed either. They are usually locked up in the staff office, along with the rest of your contraband. While they aren’t allowed out on the milieu, you are allowed to ask the staff to use both items. They just need to be supervised and locked up after. Cigarettes are also not permitted, though, I’m not certain how it is with other states. I just know that California's legal age to buy cigarettes is 21.

Room searches are conducted on a daily basis. A staff member will search your room from top to bottom for any contraband. Let me tell you that these are thorough. People do not just get away with hiding razors under pillows. That is ridiculous and simply not a hiding place that would go undetected. Please, for the love of God, do NOT have your character get away with hiding shit like that. More importantly, admins, do NOT let the players get away with that shit. You can’t hide anything in your bedroom, especially if it’s an even mildly decent facility. It’s incredibly hard to do.

If the staff suspect that a client is in possession of contraband, they have the right to do a room toss. This is different from a room search because room tosses are 10x more thorough and rude. You stand by the door while the staff literally destroy your room looking for contraband. Even if you don’t have anything and it's your roommate being accused, your stuff gets tossed. One time, the staff thought my roommate was stashing cigarettes and we watched as they tore apart our room. By the end of it, the room will look like a tornado. The shitty part? Even if they don’t find anything, you have to clean up the room. Luckily, I already knew that my roommate was innocent of the aforementioned accusation and we got along great so cleaning up wasn’t too bad. We mainly joked around and shaded the staff members.

Lastly, razors used for shaving. The rules for this vary place to place. In the last one I was in, they allowed razors under the supervision of a staff member. In the previous one, they only allowed electric razors. Of course, all of the razors, electric or not, do have to be locked up in between use.

Key Points to Everyday Life

A key part of residential programs is that they are located in ordinary suburban houses. Yes, a residential could be right down the street from you. That’s the beauty of it. While a hospital focuses simply on leveling out, Residential focus on trying to get you adjusted to a somewhat regular lifestyle. A lot of chores are a part of this. They differ day to day and there’s always a chore schedule placed somewhere in the kitchen or on the wall in the living room. Doing your chores tend to be very important since failure to comply will result in a level drop or a staff member not giving you points for the day.

Life in a residential is relatively strict. You are not allowed to take naps unless you have been ordered to by a doctor or you are basically about to die. I kid you not, the staff there are tough and take no bullshit from people. They do not let you sit down on your bed to rest AT ALL. A big part of it is learning to be responsible and not sit around all day. They try to keep you busy throughout the day. The daily schedule for most of these places is relatively similar. Exercise, breakfast, school, etc. It all goes the same. I have an example of a schedule that you can find HERE.

Note that weekdays are MUCH busier than weekends. This is because weekends are when you are allowed to have visitors. Only family members are allowed to visit you. Night and morning routines are similar. You can choose to shower in the morning or the night, your choice. Usually, they do base who gets to go first on who is the highest level so just remember that. Your toiletries are kept in a small plastic box that is roughly the size of a shoebox. All of that stuff is locked up so you do need to ask/wait for a staff member to unlock it.

Staff Responsibilities

Since I was a client, I’m not an expert on what the job entitles. However, I do have a therapist who was a staff member at a residential, and because of this, I do know a few more things than the average client.

One main thing is that they need to be observant. This is fairly obvious since the clients rely on staff to maintain safety. Throughout the day, they need to take notes on the clients. There’s usually a computer system in which this happens. In most cases, they are going to write down how you appear to be feeling. This is when “check-in’s” are important because these allow clients to actually speak up for themselves and talk about how they are actually feeling. In some facilities, clients initiating the check in can result in them being leveled up. Check in’s are simply the clients telling the staff how they are doing. These are also usually done in private, so the staff has to have time to talk to the client.

The shifts for the staff are usually broken up into 3 different times. From 5AM-1PM, 1PM-9PM, and 9PM-5AM. This is a very broad idea, but it’s usually morning, afternoon, and night shift aka graveyard shift. The graveyard shift is the one that is least convenient for people because of the time it’s at. During this time, you still need to keep notes and keep track of the clients, even if they are sleeping. You can’t fall asleep, and trust me, if you do, things can go wrong really fast. Clients are sneaky so do not put it past them to wait until a staff member falls asleep. Still, the graveyard shift does have a whole new list of responsibilities. Theirs usually consists of laundry and chores instead of taking the clients to and from their daily activities. They also end up getting a lot of free time, which can sometimes be ideal for college students who work there since they can stay up and study/do homework.

Another big thing is that since this is not a lockdown facility, they are not required to chase after or follow runaway clients. Yes, they should definitely follow them, but they do not have to. They can choose to follow, or choose to call the cops immediately. Again, this may not be the same policy for all facilities, just the ones I’ve been.

Perhaps the biggest thing, though, is that you need to avoid giving full names. Some kids in there are stalkers, so staff members emphasis the importance of avoiding sharing their personal details. You also have to avoid sharing to much about yourself in general. I know a while back, a bunch of people at this one residential got fired because they were oversharing with the teens. Even if you believe that your harrowing story may be relatable, you need to be careful. Don’t stack one problem on top of the other. Just avoid getting too attached to the kids. 

The Level System

The level system directly correlates with the point system, but I’ll get into this more in the next section. For now, let’s cover the basics. There are typically 5-6 levels. Each level comes with its own perks, so leveling up is something that is a great achievement.

Level One: This is the level that all clients start out at. It is the most basic one and therefore, has the most basic rewards. The main, and most disappointing, is that you will usually be last when it comes to body checks and showers. This means you will have to wait in the hall until it is your turn, and trust me, by the end of the time, you do not want that. You also get 5 minutes of phone time each day to talk to your parents. If your parents are divorced, you get two 5 minute phone calls each. You also do not get outings with your family, just visits.

Level Two: Alright, this level barely has anything different than the first level. You get the same amount of phone time and you are still relatively low on the list of who goes first. However, this is when you do get to have outings with your family. This means you can leave the residential when your family visits, but you must be brought back immediately.

Level Three: Not gonna lie, this is also pretty similar. You get the same amount of phone time and the same rule applies to the showers and body checks. You also get to have off-site visits with your family.

Level Four: Level four is actually not that bad! You get to have a 5-minute phone call with your parents as well as a 5-minute phone call with an approved friend. Your friends must be approved by a therapist.

Level Five: At this level, you are allowed 10 minutes per day to parents/guardians and a 10-minute call to a friend. In the facility I was at, this was pretty much the highest level you could get since most people didn’t stay long enough to reach the next one.

Level Six: At this level, you are allowed 20 minutes of phone times which can be split up as you want it. This is the highest level and if you reach this, it means that you are trusted by the staff. You are the leader, and therefore, need to act like one. It is super hard to reach this level, and often times you need to petition in order to reach it. A petition is when you speak to the milieu and the staff, usually during treatment team meetings. You describe to them how you have changed and why you deserve to get to level six and they decide.

In short term facilities (4-6 week programs), there is no waiting period. You can level up each week. In longer ones (anything beyond 6 weeks programs) there may be waiting periods between levels. In my facility, you could move from 1 to 2 and 2 to 3 each week. However, moving from 3 to 4 and so on, you usually need to wait a week or two before you can move up. I hope that made sense. You can also be level dropped for bad or innappropriate behavior. 

The Points System

The points system is the main part of residential that slips my mind, and this is simply because it is so different in each facility. The main the that stays the same, though, is that each level represents a number of points you get each day. If you are on level one, you get one point each day. If you are level three, you get three. If you are level six, you get six. You can also earn extra points for doing extra work. For example, I had a pretty unique connection with the chef at my last facility and because of this, I enjoyed being in the kitchen. We made an arrangement that I could earn points by helping him clean the oven and organize things when I had free time. You can also earn points by displaying good behavior or, sometimes, making bets with staff. It isn’t too professional, but some cool staff would make bets with me during basketball season. It was always something small, like earning one point if I could correctly guess who would win the upcoming game. 

In the place I was at, they didn’t take away points, but they would withhold them from you. If you displayed bad or inappropriate behavior, they could simply tell you that you didn’t earn any points for the day. 

Now, let’s get into what the points are actually used for. Each level brings in a new list of things that you can buy with points. Here is a short list of simple things you could buy with points for each level:

Level One: Nothing. 

Level Two: For 10 points - cup of soda (you normally only get juice or water), for 15 points - an extra snack (candy).

Level Three: For 50 points - haircut, for 25 points - time to shave your legs (monitored), for 25 points - time to apply makeup. 

Level Four: For 100 points - bubble bath (monitored and done in a bathing suit), for 150 points $10 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist). 

Level Five: For 250 points - Dinner with a staff member of your choice to a restaurant of your choice, For 275 points - $25 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist). 

Level Six: For 1,000 points - Mini-golfing, for 500 points - $50 to spend on Amazon (not a gift card, has to be approved by a therapist).

Now, I know the prices seem high, but that’s the whole point. You pay a lot of points for something, but the high number of points means you worked your ass off for it. When I was in my last residential, I was there for a little over 90 days and by the end of it, I had about 1,500 points. That’s a lot, okay, and you don’t just magically get there. Plus, by the time you do get that many points, they don’t even matter. Between you and me, they never mattered to me. In the end, I only spent about 250 points just so I can go out to eat with my favorite staff and look at pictures of her daughter. It was fun and I did it at the end of my treatment, so I knew I deserved it. 

Another Thing to Note

While this isn’t something that is a law, most people do not return to the same facility more than once. Yes, it does happen, but clearly, the first time didn’t work and often times insurance companies or the therapists will try to avoid placing someone in the same facility twice. Just keep this in mind and don’t have your character returning to the same residential over and over again. 

Common Vocabulary

AWOL: Also known as “absent without leave.” This is basically when you leave the premises of the hospital/treatment facility.

Contraband: Items that are not approved, but are in the possession of a client. Examples of this include cigarettes, knives, drugs, inappropriate clothing, perfume, etc.

Milieu: A person’s social environment or the peers around them when they are out in shared spaces such as community rooms.

PET Team:  Psychiatric Emergency Teams (PET) are mobile response teams based in and operated by psychiatric hospitals approved by the Department of Mental Health to initiate applications for 5150 and 5585 evaluations.

Treatment Team Meetings: There are two different treatment team meetings. The first one is when the staff and the therapists get together and discuss how are you doing. The second is when you are with the milieu, the clients, and one or two staff members. There, you discuss treatment goals and what you can approve upon.

If you have any questions/comments/concerns, please feel free to ask!

Q&A About this guide

[kazbrekkerrs-remade]

tlj review no one asked for lol

tumblr is a hellsite so I had to rewrite a good chink of this yikes not spoiler-free so here’s a cut

So overall I liked the film? I found the Kylo/Rey shit a bit weird, not because I’m that petty (I can actually swallow my pride on occasion, contrary to popular belief), but because it was too sudden, rushed, and a tad OOC, for Rey at least. I also felt like there was this “there’s no good or bad, it’s all war” agenda they were pushing, which I would agree with in certain cases, such as a fight for land or power, but in my mostly humble opinion, any fighting that rises in retaliation to oppression is justified. I also hated how they cashed in on the Rey parentage theory, and then they were like “lol they were just drunkards”, which honestly sucks to me because they exaggerated it so much and it was so anti-climactic, and it also made no sense, it’s?? the Skywalker saga?? There were so many parallel’s between Rey and Luke?? Rey and Han connected pretty much instantly?? and seeing as how Rey is really really strong with the force, it just doesn’t make much sense to me that she’s not related to any prominent force-sensitive character that we already know. Overall I’d give it 4/5 out of ten because though I have issues with it, it was still a very enjoyable experience, especially towards the end.

So anyway now here’s me talking about individual things and also screaming (and a lot less formal that paragraph over there)

The movie opens with Poe making a fool out of Hux I’m knjhbvgcfc

“Finn naked leaking running” ghjngffffffh

I remember ages ago seeing a post around the lines of “Imagine if Rey gives Luke the lightsaber and he just tosses it off the cliff like ‘It’s time for the Jedi to end YEET’ and I can’t find it (if you can please send me a link) and that’s EXACTLY what went down I’d think that person leaked something if it wasn’t quite frankly a bit predictable, still funny tho

When Luke says “Reach out” and Rey sticks out her hand shjgfgg she’s so cute

YES so getting to the Rey/Kylo shit, the transition from hating him to sympathy and whatever else came into play just...wasn’t smooth. It was faarrr too sudden, and while Rey is a good person, she’s not Luke. In TFA she had a lot of anger underneath and for her to just be so *shruggie* with Kyle just did not make any sense to me. 

Also what the fuck was the shirtless Kyle scene 

Why were his pants so high jhgfcdgh

It gets infinitely weirder when you think about how Snoke apparently was controlling this? Yikes we gotta kinkshame Snoke now

Rose is so cute I hate how she was sidelined in the promotional material but she did play an important role and if they kill her I’m suing Lucasfilm

Rey really did That

The cinammon topography....I love all the red

The Luke wanting to kill Kyle thing was very OOC to me but also not? Like it wasn’t at all Luke as we know him but I guess no one is perfect damn (it’s still OOC)

That whole scene through the casino, the Fathiers (or whatever) and escaping was so beautiful 

Y’all could bring back Yoda bu not Hayden Anakin...

That whole thing IMO would just be better with Anakin? Like first of all you expect me to believe old, traditional, head-up-his-ass Yoda supported burning down the books

Anakin talking to Luke about how the Jedi order was indeed fucked up and maybe seeing how he feels about Kylo...that would be the Good Shit

The big ass cruiser ship cutting through the First Order ship....amazing

Ok I’ll admit before the film I could Not stand Kyle at all but during it I was like “Ok maybe I can warm up to him” and then he’s like “Let go, we can rule the galaxy together” YEET never mind he’s still a liar and a bitch

I will admit however I liked Kylo killing Snoke 

jhgfdg so Rey and Kylo against the the guards together thingy objectively looks good but also off because as a wise woman (Daisy Ridley) once said “She [Rey] is so strong and he [Kylo] is so weak”

huhhooolllyy shit that bit where Rey drops the lightsaber then catches it with her other hand...I lost my shit right there and then

Lowkey upset because I wanted a sick ass duel between Rey and Kylo (In which Rey, predictably, kicks his ass) that I could bust a nut to like I did in TFA but ahh well maybe ep IX, for now I have Finn/Phasma 

HE BROKE HER HELMET!! I’M JHGFGH

((give Finn a lightsaber again you cowards)) 

SO back to the Rey/Kylo shit

KYLE: Let go, join me, and we can rule the galaxy together

ME: I’m so sorry Rey sweetie...someone should’ve told you...all men do is lie

Yikes only looking back do I realize how fucked up that was “You come from nothing and no one cares about except me so this is why you should rule with me” ugly

“The girl killed Snoke” You’re a bitch Kyle!! A bitch and a coward!!

Darth Vader I am so sorry;

Did I mention how amazing Finn kicking Phasma’s ass was

Poe is learning...he gon’ be a leader one day..Leia’s rightful Heir

I can’t believe I had to watch Luke die...at least he’s at peace..

THE HUG!!! THE FINNREY HUG!!

the kiss between Finnrose was super cute too!!! ((me personally I found it lowkey one-sided, like Rose was into him, he wasn’t into her, which is maybe how it was written?))

I really loved that Poe and Rey have officially met now jhgfdhfggh I’m so unbelievably happy about that

I don’t want a Poe/Rey romantic thing tho but I’ve always felt like they’ll get along great....the dream team...sister from another mister/brother from another mother IDK I always thought they could have a really great friendship

“I’m Rey” “I know” is it because Finn gushes about her

starving us on stormpilot isn’t gonna solve shit m’dudes, the public has it’s mind made up!!

That kid with the resistance symbol thing better be in IX otherwise it’s bad writing!!

((this uuuhhh whole film was bad writing but shshhhhh i enjoyed it ok it’s the r*verdale of star wars I guess if r*verdale was redeemable in any timeline jhjgfsd))

And some short end notes:

I don’t think I heard the Imperial March even once???? I could be wrong but ohh my god I’ll be so mad if it isn’t in there what do you think that you’re too good for the imperial march? that it’s not iconic or something?? That shit goes so hard “da da da dadada da da da dadada DA DA DA DA DADAAA DA DADAAA

hmmm does kyle deserve that tho lol

Not making Rey related by blood to Anakin was a huge mistake ((predictable but!! sometimes shit just has to go like that??))

I read somewhere that rian johnson didn’t want this film to follow the ‘star wars pattern’ whatever the fuck that is but...this was so damn similar to ESB kjnhbgfcg

And I think that’s it?

If you read this whole thing thank you

UPDATE: I THOUGHT OF MORE SHIT

being like “oh Rey’s parents were drunks” is such a lazy move....this is not get out of jail free card I don’t know who told you this

let luke and leia grieve for han you assholes

can IX redeem this shitshow stay tuned

[fantasticnewtimagines]

*Jealous* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked:

Hello! Your writing is amazing! Could you do one where the reader and Tina have become super close so they start spending a lot of time together, and Newt becomes jealous of Tina because reader isn't spending as much time with him anymore?

❤ Thanks, dearie! I hope you enjoy! ^_^

You never expected to make such a wonderful friend while your time in New York. However, Tina Goldstein quickly became someone you trusted and confided in quite a bit. 

You and Newt had returned to the city after the release of his book and you couldn’t be more excited to once again see Tina.

Clutching his case tightly, Newt walked beside you down the gangplank towards customs. He sensed your eagerness and how you kept standing on your tippy toes to see if you could catch a glimpse of Tina in the crowd. 

“Patience, Love...” he reminded you. Smiling, you looked over at him and clapped your hands together.

“I’m just so excited!” you exclaimed. 

Making it through customs rather quickly, you held tight to Newt’s hand as you quickly dragged him through the crowd where you finally spotted her. 

“Tina!” 

Her short brown hair blew in the wind as she looked up to see you waving. Excited, she gently pushed through the crowds and wrapped you in a big hug.

“Y/N!”

“I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too!”

“I have so much to tell you! So much has happened!”

“Same!”

Newt awkwardly stood to the side, shifting on his heels as he let you two have your joyous reunion. Remembering he was there, Tina turned to him and smiled. “It’s so wonderful to see you, Newt!”

“Same.” smiling up at her, the two shared a warm hug before making your way to the Goldstein’s apartment. Neither one of you seemed to take a breath the entire walk there and Newt began to think you two had just about updated each other entirely and wouldn’t have anything to talk about the rest of the trip.

Queenie had prepared a delicious meal (no surprise) and the four you, Jacob included, had wonderful conversations about what had happened in the past year and all the things that had changed.

You and Newt were thrilled to see Queenie and Jacob back together and the sister’s explained to you how dangerous it was to break the highest rule for American Wizard’s but hardly seemed to care since Jacob was pretty much family to them and was worth the risk.

“Well, it’s been a long day...” pushing his chair back from the table, Newt stood up and turned to you. “We should check up on the creatures, Y/N.”

“Oh! Can Tina come?” you asked. Newt’s smile dropped a bit and he fiddled with his sleeves. “Oh... umm...” 

It wasn’t that Newt didn’t want to see Tina, he truly did, but he saw this time as yours and his. Taking care of his creatures together was something he held dearly and honestly, he just wanted to spend some time with you.

“Of course.” faking a smile, he turned to Queenie and Jacob and said, “Thank you for the lovely dinner. It was delicious as always.”

Smiling and nodding, Queenie knew what Newt was thinking and Newt knew that. Giving her a long look, he mentally told her to not say anything. Acknowledging his wishes, Queenie turned to Jacob and asked if he’d like to help her clean up.

“Well, look at you!” Tina laughed as she saw the niffler scurry around his habitat rearranging his treasures. “Just the same as I remember you!”

“Tina?”

“Yes?” turning to face you, Tina smiled and followed you as you picked up the pail full of pellets and made your way over to the mooncalves. “I’ve been wanting you tell you something. I was going to send it to you via letter, but I thought it best to tell you in person....”

“Oh?” intrigued, Tina walked closer beside you. 

“I haven’t said anything to anyone.... but I know I can trust you.” feeling your cheeks burning up, you looked over your shoulder to make sure Newt was no where within hearing distance. He was quietly standing at his table shifting through a bowl sorting through nuts and seemed to be deep in thought.

“I kind of... well...I really.... I have this thing....” struggling to find the words, Tina chuckled and looked back over at Newt before looking back at you.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Shhhhh!” playfully hitting her, you giggled as she gasped and playfully hit you back. “How did you know?”

“Oh, please! You think I didn’t realize it when you were last here?”

“Did Queenie read my thoughts?”

“No, I promise. I mean, she did... but it wasn't her who told me. No one did. I just knew.” 

“Is it that obvious?!” panicking, Tina placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! Besides, you two are perfect for each other. Truly.”

“Really?”

Nodding, Tina wrapped her arm around you and placed her head on your shoulder giving you a gentle side hug. “Maybe even a tad more perfect than Queenie and Jacob are together.”

Newt sat on the couch tapping his fingers on his knee and he stared off in to the crackling fire. Everyone was out but he knew you’d be home soon. Tina, Queenie and Jacob were all working and you had gone to visit Jacob to bring some treats home for later. He knew you and Tina had plans for later that evening and he only had between now and then to get some much needed alone time with you.

The door opened and Newt jumped a bit in his seat.

“Oh! Sorry!” giving him a smile, you closed the door and made your way towards the kitchen and placing the bag of pastries on the table. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s o-okay.” standing up, Newt brushed his curly hair to the side and smoothed out his shirt before walking over to you. “So, I was uh... I was wondering if you’d like to go for a walk maybe?”

“That sounds lovely. I do need to be back soon though. Tina and I are having a fun night out and are gonna go to The Blind Pig.”

“Oh....”

“But that’s not until six.”

Looking over at the clock, it read four forty five and Newt’s heart dropped. “That’s fine. I don't want us to get stuck or end up being late....”

“We could just apparate back if we-”

“No. It’s okay.” Turning away, Newt walked out of the room and towards the room he was staying in. Standing there confused and a tad bit hurt, you quickly followed after him.

“Newt? Newt, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” kneeling down, Newt opened his case and began walking down inside. 

“Hey!” following behind him, you almost lost your balance as you quickly descend down the stairs. “Newt!” landing in the tiny hut, Newt had already made his way out in to the various habitats. Finding him near the bowtruckles, you marched over there and stared at him waiting for an explanation. Turning away, he picked up a bucket and walked towards the baby occamies.

“Newt, what is wrong? Why are you mad about me spending time with Tina? We can go on a walk! We have ti-”

“I want more time, Y/N.” cutting you off, Newt kept his back towards you as he dropped some food in to the nest watching the new hatchlings eat. You looked down and noticed the two new occamies that laid in the nest. 

“When did-”

“Two days ago.”

Watching the new creatures hatch was something you and Newt held dear and always loved experiencing together. How had you not known they hatched? He hadn’t even told you....

“Why.... why didn’t you tell me? You know that’s our thing... we love watching them hatch....”

“You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt your girl time.” his voice was cold as he answered you and you wanted nothing more than to hear his gentle calming voice he always had. 

“Newt, I’m sorry... It’s just... you know Tina and I only ever get to talk through letters and I’ve really missed her.”

“I know, Y/N.” standing up, Newt wiped his hands on his pants before turning to meet your eyes. “I know... I just... Jacob and Queenie had each other and you and Tina and well... I just felt...”

“Forgotten?”

Nodding, Newt tried to hide his eyes behind his hair. 

“Newt, I’m sorry...” 

“Y/N, you’re important to me. You’re my best friend, my partner....” looking at the ground, he rocked back and fourth on his heels before meeting your eyes again. “I love you. And I guess I started to feel jealous because you seemed to want to spend more time with Tina which I get, you never see each other, but I just really missed you. It’s selfish, I know...”

“You.... you love me?” butterflies erupted inside you and you suddenly felt weak in the knees. Newt’s cheeks burned a bright red as he nodded. A smile spread across your face as you leaned forward and took his hand in yours. 

“I love you too, Newt. More than anyone in the world....”

Newt’s face lit up at your words and he he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close. Smiling up at him, you felt your body begin to tingle as you realized how close your faces were to one another. 

“I’ve missed our alone time.” he confessed. 

“I have too.”

“I’m sorry I acted so childish.... go have fun with Tina. I’ll be here waiting when you get back.”

“We can feed the new occamies together if you'd like?”

“I’d love that.”

“Have you named them yet?”

Letting out a chuckle, Newt smiled and answered, “No.”

“How about we name the new little fella’s when I get back?”

“I would love nothing more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, Newt closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Your perfume filled his sensed and he finally felt relieved. You were in his arms and that’s all he wanted.

♦ Hope this wasn’t trash! Also, I know I said I’d post the next half of Don’t Obliviate Her, but I’m so sorry... I am beyond tired. I promise I’ll post it soon! 

And I hope you guys like the new blog style :) I am a sucker for pink and flowers! Haha 

Please leave some feedback if you’d like! x x x 

[andimackfaneditsss]

Get to Know the Friendom Tag

i was tagged by @the-suitelife-of-disneychannel and @thesubtextmachine :)  This is coming out a little late because I’ve been preoccupied with Carmilla Series updating everybody as they film the movie but since I am also a HUGE fan of Andi Mack I thought it deserved my attention again, too. Especially since there’s going to finally be a new episode tonight!!

Favorite Andi Mack character

I said it before and I’ll say it again, Buffy IS me when I was a kid and even now. (Actually what I said was that I relate to her, but still.) I am the type to get competitive over even the littlest of things if someone so much as jokingly mentions a challenge over - say, finishing a bottle of water in under 2 minutes. You might be kidding, but I can assure you I AM NOT. A challenge is always accepted. I feel like I sometimes make my life one of those 5Gum commercials. I’m that competitive over literally everything. I am just so extra. But Buffy isn’t my fave character because she has this flaw, I love her because she’s struggling to see how this can be a bad thing - how it’s even a flaw. I was the same way when I was a kid. I didn’t understand how being this way can alter your reality, making you feel like you’re the only one who knows how to play the game and people need you to win and if they think different then hope they learn their lesson when they lose. Not wishing for them to lose, but actually believing they will by not having you there to win for them. I’ve grown, I’ve learned, I keep it in check now. But I still remember the times I didn’t have it in check which made me grow into a different person eventually because I realized I was ruining every game by trying to be the best in it instead of just having fun w/ friends and family. The mentality of a person this competitive is you think you’re the star of the show, which I think is an awesome belief to give a secondary character because it makes them an actual person: our friends and family may be secondary to our story but they have a story, too, and in that one WE are secondary. It’s - like with everything else in Andi Mack so far - very real. I can’t wait to see Buffy recognize her flaw and not necessarily “overcome” it but learn to channel it to be a better team player, not a player better than the team.

Is that your all-time favorite? If not, then list that here:

I don’t think I can pick just one character like I can a ship (hollstein 4ever!!) but I’ll try to name a few all-time faves at the top of my head (and from the bottom of my heart):

Laura Hollis (Carmilla Series) REASON: because like Buffy Driscoll, Laura is flawed and driven and real. There are missing girls at her University and her new roommate who turns out to be a vampire and has been assigned the same room because the school doesn’t even bat an eyelash at Laura’s former roommate having just up-and-vanished, may actually have ties to what’s been going on but no actual knowledge of what’s really happening. She believes because she’s the only one who cares enough to not let the weirdness and everything absolute sketch slip under the radar, she’s the only one who can do anything about it. She cares way too much about everyone, so much so that she forgets to remember (really think about) who she can trust. But she would willingly give her life for every friend that has ever walked into/out of her life simply because she just loves people and cares so much about everybody. Even hardcore villains who she definitely needed to kill - she still feels bad about killing them, despite the fact they would smile at the sound of murder they organized. She’s flawed but freaking inspiring!

Buffy Driscoll (Andi Mack) REASON: read my answer to the first question of this tag.

Wilson Kirsch (Carmilla Series) REASON: he’s a freaking puppy who doesn’t deserve what he’s been through when all he’s ever wanted was a bro! He just needs a really good friend and I wish I could jump through my screen and wrap him in a hug.

Benny Weir (My Babysitter’s a Vampire) REASON: he may have caused a lot of trouble because the world allowed a HUGE nerd to have magical powers - so what did it think was going to come of that?! But - but - but, he was also the solution to fixing the trouble almost 90% of the time. He’s flawed, just like many characters I love, but he’s a dork who just wants to live out his dreams of being a wizard and - accidentally raises the evil dead pets of the entire neighborhood in the process of trying to win over a girl through his newfound abilities. And he’s there for his friends, and if that calls for enchanting a cologne to be a love potion for his best bud to finally win over his hot babysitter (sounds weird but I promise if you watch the show it’s not what you think) - then he’ll do it!

And now for some honorable mentions I’m compiling them because if I go on and on explaining why I love these characters then this post will be longer than I intend for it to be: Matska Belmonde (Carmilla Series), Melanippe Callis (Carmilla Series), Theo Straka (Carmilla Series), Cyrus Goodman (Andi Mack), Andi Mack (Andi Mack), Bex Mack (Andi Mack), Daphne Diaz (Stuck In The Middle), Georgie Diaz (Stuck In The Middle), Riku Harada (D.N.Angel), and to end this list Kaori Fujimiya (One Week Friends).

Favorite Andi Mack cast member?

Probably Joshua Rush atm, but then I’ve seen some pretty funny tweets from Lilan Bowden. So...maybe Lilan? How ‘bout I break the rules and - just kidding! I’ll pick one... Definitely Lilan. Sorry Josh!

All-time favorite cast member? If not, list them:

Elise Bauman! She seems so cool to work with, very fun and chill. Must be all the yoga.

Honorable mentions ofc: Natasha Negovanlis, Shannon Kook, Kaitlyn Alexander, Kira Kosarin, Matt O’ Connor, Chloe Grace Moretz, Atticus Mitchell, Lia Marie Johnson, Allison Scagliotti, and to end this list Jeremy Shada.

Original reaction to the show:

I was excited to see more Asian rep, for sure! But I seriously thought the BIG secret was that Bex “her older sister” would be moving back home and that that would stir up some fun adventures and trouble. I was utterly shocked - just, in literal tears when the reveal happened. It hooked me. I’d never seen that sort of story-line on a Disney Channel show. I was sure it’d be something different, pure and at the same time mature, and THAT interested me. Yes, the fact there’s no laugh track is the same reason I loved My Babysitter’s a Vampire, why I love Stuck In The Middle, but that was just the cherry on top of the wonderful eye-catching rainbow shimmering unicorn cake this show was going to be...and is!

Current reaction to the show:

It’s slowly developing the characters a bit more - which is always great - and teasing out more issues that can potentially be fully brought to light and commented on (hopefully) in the next season, because I really wish they talked more on the issues with Buffy. Her hair being “too big”: it could have been said that that was a little bit racist that comment right there? And how about how Buffy was concerned with who said she “wasn’t girly” and why she was so bent on helping Cyrus become “2.Bro”? Yes she’s my fave character from the show but I’m saying this also because I don’t want them to be bold enough to shout into the void, silencing the crowd, and then shrink into the dark shadows of the corner behind them not wanting to go on with their groundbreaking statement. These are real issues that can be deeper analyzed but I get that they are kids and kids often don’t think about a problem facing them philosophically but rather directly. So to them it was just, “What? How can that even be possible? Hair too big? Huh?” I just hope they go deeper next season, just a leetle bit deeper is all I’m asking. But it’s getting better and I still very much like it, and the Friendom. I also just have one more request: CAN ANDI PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP FINALLY CALL BEX HER MOM LIKE CAN THEY JUST HAVE A REALLY NICE BONDING MOMENT AND ANDI JUST SMILES TO HERSELF BEFORE SURPRISING BEX WITH A “NIGHT, MOM” OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT PLEASE?!

Favorite Andi Mack plot line(s):

The kids’ lives away from school most definitely, but that isn’t just one plot line. Andi’s sister is actually her mom and her mom is actually her grandmother, Cyrus’s parents are divorced shrinks who both remarried shrinks, Buffy’s mom is overseas. Not gonna lie I will be a tad disappointed (okay a whole lot) if we don’t get to see a really touching moment where Buffy’s mom just shows up at their doorstep, finally home; if Cyrus’s gossip shrink of a mom doesn’t have consequences for gossiping to everyone about her clients’ private lives and has to look for a new job (could that even happen?); if Bex doesn’t become a total “mom” over the kids and just steps back one day and is like “oh wow I’m asking all of them how school was and cutting crust off of two sandwiches out of the three I made because Buffy likes the crust on - wait what?” And I don’t even know why I really want to see this happen but I really want to see this happen: Andi’s, Buffy’s, and Cyrus’s parents all coming together to hang out and eventually become friends. I just feel like Bowie will return and when he does, he and Bex should have friends their own age to go out on the weekends with. Maybe that’s just me tho...

Least Favorite Andi Mack character:

It’s waaaaaaaaay too easy to say Tiffany (Amber), and it’d also be a little lazy at this point. She’s so clearly meant to be the antagonist. It’s the only character they gave us to hate... Or is it? My least fave Andi Mack character is (I’m sorry to all the shippers out there who see him with Buffy or to anyone who just likes this character) Marty from the Party. Look, he was pretty sexist in the episode “She Said, She Said” where Buffy was happily surprised to find out she was the fastest in track and then he followed that up w/ “fastest girl” and said “by a minor biological reality” that men and women were not created equal and how the fastest woman would never beat the fastest man. I’m normally not one to jump up at these remarks and go “AAAAAAAAAHHHHH SEXISM!!!!1!!″ however the way they ended that subplot with us just seeing them take off in another random race Buffy initiated and then cutting away entirely before we get to see who wins that time? I didn’t get much closure. And I also feel that witty banter and slight sexist remarks aside, Marty just needs to be developed more. So he’s my least fave Andi Mack character rn atm. I don’t hate him I just like him the least.

All-time least favorite character? If not, list them here:

We’ll be here all day (maybe all year long) if I delve too deep into my all-time least fave characters. So, some more honorable - or, infamous? mentions: The Dean, Baron Vordenberg, and Theo Straka (i know he’s also one of my fave characters but that’s because he’s such a good villain it’s hard not to love that he exists, I mean he’s not even a vampire himself and yet he’s so evil) (Carmilla Series), President Snow, Gale Hawthorne, and President Coin (The Hunger Games), The Vampire Council (My Babysitter’s a Vampire), Mark Jefferson (Life Is Strange), and finally to end this list Victor Alvarez (Netflix’s Original Sitcom One Day at a Time).

Upcoming Andi Mack episodes I’m worried about:

A couple of things. Not so much the episodes because as a whole they’re always good, but I am worried about developments within each episode...ones yet-to-be-aired and ones yet-to-be-filmed.

1) Andi and Bex’s relationship as mother and daughter really not strengthening and instead they just go on as if they’re still sisters.

2) Andi never calling Bex “mom”...I think it should come first before she calls Bowie “dad” because there’s already a bond between her and Bex and so it should be a lot easier to do that first.

3) Cyrus coming out. Or Jonah. Either one even just questioning who they actually like. Because when Disney had aired that one episode of Good Luck Charlie with the two moms, people went nuts and so I’m kinda hoping they don’t ignore exploring this plot line when/if it happens because of the backlash they had from the moms who claimed they were “enforcing gay agenda on the children.” Liking who you like isn’t something that can be taught really but like religion can be fed in unhealthy, brainwashing amounts like if you were to preach over and over again to someone every day for years “You’re a Christian so confess your sins you sinner” or “You’re gay just admit it already” even if they don’t follow that religion (or any religion) or aren’t that sexuality for sure; however, all that Disney is trying to do is be inclusive and not preachy. Just btw, I know a six year old who was happy to say that he has a boyfriend. Kids are growing up and if your kids aren’t gay they’ll be exposed to other kids who either support it and talk freely about it or who actually are gay. Nbd.

4) Buffy not realizing her flaw (being overly competitive) and not getting it in check so that she can be a better team player and even make some new friends on her track team.

5) Jonah not breaking it off with Tiffany (Amber) for his and everyone else’s mental health. Their relationship is not a good one and she is so nasty to all of his friends, he’s such a ball of sunshine who doesn’t need to be with a girl who will insult and disparage his friends behind his back. Oh yeah and cHEAT ON HIM. WHICH SHE TOTALLY IS!!!

Welp, I guess that’s all there is for me to say. I hope you’ve all gotten to know me better and I don’t know who to tag so I’ll just leave it up to any of you that follow me to pick up this tag for yourself and tell the Friendom a little bit about you! :)