#i did manage to find a jacket for $5 in a used clothes shop by pure accident

[lae-zels]

second hand shouldn't cost more than brand stuff??????????

[bottombaron]

the high school Winterbaron au that I'll never write~

Zemo transfers to an American school. his father caught him attending a protest and he can't have him undermining the Sokovian government so now Zemo is living at his estranged mother's house in America.

his mother, being American, means Zemo has dual citizenship. her and his father are separated but not divorced. (Zemo hadn't seen her since she left them when he was four so their relationship isn't great)

Bucky is part of the large friend group of avenger characters (Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor etc.) but he feels left out. it used to be just him, Steve, Natasha, and then later Sam. but now Steve is being pulled away by friends like Tony and girlfriend Peggy. Bucky has Sam and Natasha, but Nat is closer with Clint and Sam is naturally more outgoing and popular than Bucky is, with his own friends.

basically Bucky is feeling lonely as fuck.

due to a complex powder-keg of racism, American ignorance (on the avenger's side), and an already deep-seated resentment of the Starks' and the American forces bombing Sokovia (on Zemo's side): him and the 'avengers group' do not get along and are instantly at each other's throats

Zemo is constantly causing mayhem at school and trying to get kicked out and sent back home. everyone pretty much hates him and he's fine with that.

*vague plot hand wave* something happens, a bet between Zemo and the 'avengers' ends up with Zemo getting to take one of them out on a date and they have do what he says for the day

he chooses Bucky and everyone is thrown

Bucky hardly knows this guy and Steve and Tony thought it would be one of them. they try to refuse on his behalf but Bucky's not that bothered, '*shrug* he's like, what? 5 even?? (he's not) I could just pick him up and throw him if he tried anything (he could do that tho), i'll be fine.'

Bucky feels weird about it more because he's not a part of this fucking drama and now he feels like he's been made the center of it

Steve and Tony are fighting over his involvement in this mess (Steve is protective, Tony is dismissive) and Bucky is just tiRED

Zemo had simply noticed Bucky was being abandoned by his friends and thought he looked lonely like him. but he's also a little shit and too busy playing the villain (and having a blast thank you very much) to drop the façade

so Bucky and Zemo agree to meet at a mall for a 'date'

the mall Zemo chooses is huge and luxurious and Bucky already feels uncomfortable in it. he sits and waits in the food court where there's at least a Hot Dog on a Stick he can feel a little within his financial comforts

Zemo finds him and they're off walking the mall

they bicker, they banter, and of course Zemo is fucking weird. he's acting like they've been friends for years and excitedly showing Bucky all the window displays like Bucky isn't (technically) there against his will. but it's not uncomfortable enough that he isn't starting to catch onto Zemo's chaotic rhythm and enjoy himself a little

they start to talk in that sarcastic playfully teasing way. Bucky's dry wit and Zemo's sharp flirty replies work really well together and they're actually kind of having a good time

until Zemo reminds Bucky he has to do what he says for the day and takes him to a really fancy boutique and informs Bucky that his task is to try on some clothes with Zemo

Bucky instantly feels panic when he's in the store, it's too big and too crowded and there's actual security guards in three piece suits giving him the most judgmental looks as if he's a criminal

everyone knows he doesn't belong there and that he's small and dirty

he starts to have a panic attack

Zemo notices and pulls Bucky into a corner of the store, hands him a bottle of water and instructs him to focus on drinking the bottle up to the label. every sip of water he must take a deep breath like he's coming up for air in a pool. let it out. and take another sip. and repeat.

Zemo tells Bucky he's going to be right back and leaves to talk to someone important

Bucky doesn't notice when everyone starts to leave the shop

the doors close, the lights dim, the music stops playing current pop and plays something soft and old. when Zemo comes back Bucky is feeling a lot better

Zemo says he talked with the manager and they told him he and Bucky could have the next couple of hours by themselves in the shop, if Bucky was still willing that is

Bucky feels embarrassed but Zemo starts ranting about everything that's triggering in the store, like it was everyone else's fault and not Buckys'. it makes him feel less ashamed. 'it's these florescent lights, the doormen were assholes, that music hurt my head too, etc'. like what Bucky had just went through was perfectly normal and not something bad Bucky did on purpose or for attention like people normally make him feel.

he doesn't question how Zemo got everyone to leave and the store to soften (he actually doesn't know Zemo is rich, he never bothered to know Zemo at all. he was just the guy everyone at school hated)

the two of them spend the time running around like children with the store all to themselves, the only other person a butler-like-attendant that serves them champaign and cashews.

Bucky braces for Zemo to dress him up like he promised he would. he's expecting a trim three piece suit that Zemo was eyeing earlier or something equally uncomfortable. but with how surprisingly well Zemo had been treating him Bucky feels like he can indulge a small dress up party for the guy

he's surprised again when Zemo's wardrobe choices for him are sinfully soft cotton jeans, t-shirts, and the sexiest leather jacket he's even seen

they're clothes Bucky would have picked for himself and he feels great in them

Zemo for his part steps out of the dressing room looking like Elton John meets Cruella DeVil

the ugliest purple fur coat, heels with gold accents, and a crop top that says 'break my hole not my heart' on it

Bucky: that is the ugliest fucking outfit I've ever seen

Zemo: thank you, I love it 😎

Bucky asks why he wasn't forced to wear something more high fashion, Zemo answers that, 'while I would love to see you in a suit I know you wouldn't be comfortable in one. attractiveness is about comfort. my style isn't yours. I'm comfortable in things that you would never be in which is why I make this look good. and you look exquisite in that.'

Bucky blushes but doesn't disagree. he does however tease Zemo about his outfit. 'are you sure you actually pull that off?'

Zemo: oh hunny, I'm fuckable in anything

Bucky switches into his old clothes and whistles when he sees the price tag. 'I could never afford this' Zemo looks, 'ah yes , that is quite the ridiculous mark up.'

Zemo: which is why I was planning on stealing it ;3

and then he runs out of the store with all the clothes he picked out for Bucky, still in his gaudy outfit

Bucky is dumbfounded but quickly runs after him and they stop only after they're at the other end of the mall, out of breath

Bucky: the actual fuck, Zemo!

Zemo: *is wearing his ~who me? I've never done anything wrong in my cute little life~ face* :3

Zemo explains shoplifting is good actually fuck capitalism

and doesn't explain that the reason why they had control of the store in the first place is because his father is an investor and everything they ran out with was technically already bought the moment they touched it

but he doesn't want Bucky to feel indebted for the clothes or make him feel like he needs charity. and rebellion (even pretend rebellion) is funner

Bucky suspects everything is fine anyway because he's not an idiot but it's funner to pretend for him too

the fantasy world that they've created outside of their actual lives and drama, in this mall, on this day, is freeing

Zemo releases Bucky of their deal, the time having been completed

Bucky, instead of leaving, takes Zemo's wrist and guides him to Hot Dog on a Stick at the food court

he treats him to a $5 dinner and watches, trying not to laugh, as Zemo attempts to eat a corndog with mustard in a pair of white Versace cashmere pants

it's the best date he's ever had

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years, Ch. 7

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author’s note: i know i’m like 3 months late on posting this chapter, but i promise i haven't abandoned this fic. 

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5, Year 6 

Year 6, Part 2:  Fireworks

 The heavy rain soaked through your clothes as you made your way into King’s Cross. It had been raining hard since early that morning, and the heavy gloom that hung over London was starting to take hold in your chest. The events of two weeks prior were impossible to purge from your mind, and on days like this the memories slowly crept their way forward. You swore that green skull could illuminate the sky again at any moment, so instead, you forced yourself to think about other things. 

You uncle and dad had been talking for weeks about an event happening at Hogwarts this year, but they wouldn’t give anything away. All you knew was that you needed a fancy dress, which you bought a week ago at a second hand store. It now sat in the bottom of your trunk, its intended use unknown to you for now. 

You no longer needed the motivation to run through the brick wall that separated platforms 9 and 10, like you did in your first year. You and your father casually waited by the wall, wringing the water from your clothes, as you watched the muggles pass by. When all was clear, you casually leaned against it, disappearing suddenly to anyone who might’ve cared to notice. 

The steam from the scarlet coloured engine filled the platform, the people rushing about looking more like ghosts than corporeal beings. You searched briefly for a family of redheads, but quickly gave up and turned your attention to the items you had brought with you. 

You checked quickly on Minnie, whose carrier was concealed under your rain jacket on top of your trunk. She was dry, just a little perturbed at all the movement happening on the trip here. 

“You packed the camcorder, right?” your father asked. “And the extra tapes?”

“Yes,” you told him, “they were the first things I packed.” 

“And you’re sure you know how to use it?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure we went over it about 100 times.”

“I just don’t want you to get there and then not be able to capture anything,” he said, looking around at the people on the platform. He lowered his voice a bit to speak the next part. “It’s going to be a very fun year. I don’t want you to forget any of it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Will you please stop being so secretive, and tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he told you. 

You were about to protest and beg for more information when three more people came through the platform portal. Ron, Hermione, and Harry appeared before you, squinting through the steam. 

“Oh, look!” your dad cut you off, ignoring the annoyed look on your face. “Friends! Now, go get on the train with them. I might see you sooner than you think.”  

You said a very quick goodbye before turning to the three newcomers. They were still looking through the steam, trying to orientate themselves before heading to the train. You snuck up as quietly as your trunk would allow, thankful that the train engine was letting off some noise. 

“What’re you looking for?” you shouted, right in between Ron and Harry’s heads. It caused all three of them to jump; the owls in the cages they were holding hooted frantically as they got tossed around. 

“Please don’t do that,” Hermione voiced as she clutched her chest. 

“Sorry,” you said, smiling, “I couldn’t resist.” You turned your head to look at the brick wall briefly. “Where is..”

“Your boyfriend?” Ron butt in. He turned to Harry and made a fake gagging noise. Harry let out a laugh, amused at his friend’s actions. 

“Right behind you,” a familiar voice said. You turned to see Charlie, Fred, and George. George was smiling brightly at you. “We just passed your dad on the other side of the barrier.” 

“Charlie!” you exclaimed, giving him a quick hug. “I expected you to be back in Romania by now.”

“Do we even exist?” George whispered to Fred. 

“Apparently not when Charlie’s around,” Fred answered. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to the twins. “I’m gonna see you two constantly for the next 10 months. I rarely see Charlie.” 

“I took extended time off,” Charlie said, answering your question, “because I’ll be working a little extra in a couple of months.” 

Ginny, Bill, and Mrs. Wealsey made their way through the wall behind the twins. 

“Hello,” Mrs. Weasley greeted upon seeing you. 

“Molly, it’s so good to see you. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see you at the Quidditch Cup,” you told her, giving her a hug. 

“Quidditch isn’t really my thing, dear,” she informed you. “But I might get to see you all again soon.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you asked. 

“It’s nothing,” she said, pushing you back towards Fred and George. 

“We should get going,” you said to the twins. “We need to find Lee and seats” 

The twins said goodbye to their family, and you all headed off through the steam towards the train. You found Lee, who had already boarded and was saving a compartment for the three of you. You stuffed your trunks above the seats and put Millie’s carrier in the seat next to the door. 

It was a weird feeling, purposefully sitting so close to George on the train; him next to the window and your head leaning on his shoulder so you could watch the countryside pass by. Really, it’s not like much had changed from being just friends to dating. You had always sat close to each other before, even holding hands when the situation allowed for it. Something seemed to change over the last couple months, though, and now you felt more comfortable than ever resting your head against George. 

Maybe it was the fact that you could hold hands now without people whispering in the background and speculating about you. Or the fact that you could run your hands through his hair, which he had let grow a little longer over the summer, and not be worried about accidentally looking into his brown eyes and having to hide your embarrassment over the matter. You could freely count the freckles splattered across his face and name the constellations you made in them. Freckles that would always remind you of the falling snow on the night you first kissed. 

At some point, you let Minnie out of her carrier, letting her roam freely around the compartment, careful to make sure the door was securely closed. She eventually found a comfy stop on the seat between Fred and Lee. You watched as she curled up into a ball, her tail carefully covering her eyes, as if to block out any light. 

As the train rolled on and the rain outside got heavier, the windows fogged up, making it impossible to see outside. You turned your full attention to the conversation happening. Lee was talking about what he did over break, and brought up the Quidditch World Cup. 

Your eyes moved briefly to the window, thinking you might see the bright green light shining through the rain. George saw your movement and squeezed your hand in reassurance, a small smile on his face. You smiled back at him, telling him that you’d be alright. 

Lee mentioned that his father had been cheated out of money over a bet he made with Ludo Bagman at the Cup. 

“That dirty little cheat!” Fred yelled at the mention of Bagman’s name, causing Minnie to startle beside him. 

“He took our money, too,” George added on. “He paid us back in leprechaun gold.” 

“That’s exactly what he did to my dad,” Lee said. 

“You bet all the money you had saved, didn’t you?” you asked Fred and George. 

“Yeah,” Fred sighed. 

“We’ll have to find another way to open the shop now,” George said. 

“I still have some money saved up,” you told them. “About 20 Galleons when converted from muggle money. It’s not much but maybe we could find something to invest it in.”

“We couldn’t ask you to give us your money,” Fred said. 

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s other things you could use that money for, right? ” George inquired. 

“Not really,” you told them. “I’ve always planned to help you with Weasley Wizard Wheezes one way or another. Whether that be through money or inventing inventory.” 

“Oh,” George said rather quietly beside you. “Thank you.” 

You leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you, Georgie.” 

“And you know I’m always here to test out products,” Lee chimed in. 

“Oh, speaking of which,” you voiced, “did you finish those Canary Creams in the last two weeks?” 

“Not quite,” George told you. “There’s still some kinks to work out, but give us a few weeks and some of Snape’s potion supplies and we’ll get them done.” 

“But!” Fred said, pulling a small, wrapped treat out of his pocket. “We did nail down the yellow hair color.”

“Now we have all the house colors down,” George finished. 

“And I think we should take advantage of that,” you said with a grin. You grabbed the sweet from Fred’s hand. “This one’s yellow?” He nodded. “And you guys still have a beef against Cedric for winning the quidditch match last year?” 

“We should’ve gotten a rematch,” all three of them said in unison. 

“I know, I know,” you said, faking sympathy. 

The rest of the train ride was spent slipping sweets into other student’s train compartments and hiding in the hallway until you heard a couple screams. Cedric didn’t really seem to mind too much; being more embarrassed of the attention his friends were giving him because of it, opposed to being mad. You did manage to slip a pink one into Draco’s compartment, but one of his oversized bodyguards ended up eating it instead. 

You found Adrian Pucey, who was trying to rekindle your friendship a little bit. He had written to you over the summer a few times. You gave him a blue haired sweet just because you wanted to see if the color would look good on him. It really didn’t, as the Ravenclaw blue didn’t mix with his complexion very well. You made him promise to sit next to you at the welcome feast, and you’d reverse the effects then. 

Overall, you were very happy to be going back to Hogwarts where you’d be able to hang out with your friends again. 

-----------------

The term seemed to pass too quickly with all the Tournament excitement going on. You had been concerned for Harry ever since his name was pulled out of that blasted goblet, but ever since he won the first task, he seemed to be in a much better mood. 

You had snuck out of the castle the night before the first task with Fred and George to meet up with Charlie. He had excitedly shown you the dragons they had brought from Romania, their fiery breaths keeping you warm in the cool November air. You had never seen creatures like this upclose before, and they intrigued you enough to think for just a moment that maybe you wouldn’t mind working in Romania with Charlie. 

A month after that, you found Hogwarts covered in snow, the winter chill finally settling in the castle corridors. Fireplaces blazed in every room, warming you ever so slightly as you sat by them. The fireplace in your dorm room did little to help fight the cold of the Black Lake. Again, just like last year, you spent most of your nights in the Gryffindor common room, curled up next to George by their roaring fire. 

Minnie took to spending her nights in George’s room. She seemed to be making friends with Crookshanks, as you would sometimes find them cuddled together in the common room. 

At times you felt bad for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Their carriage and ship didn’t seem like the warmest of homes. You’d look across the school grounds and see them covered in ice and snow, and it would send a shiver down your spine every time. 

Christmas Eve came, and the entire school was filled with excitement over the Yule Ball the next day. You were excited too, but there was one more thing you needed to do before that day came. 

You had told George to meet you in the Astronomy tower in his pajamas at 10pm on Christmas Eve, a surprise all planned out in your head. You had stolen the radio from the Slytherin common room for the night. It had taken you and Adrian over a week to figure out how to get muggle radio stations to play on it, but eventually you got past all the magical interference and were able to listen to muggle music for the first time in almost four months. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy The Weird Sisters, but sometimes you just missed the music your mum would listen to at home. 

You set up your camcorder in one corner of the tower by the stairs, getting as much of the room in frame as you could. With no one else in the room to film, it would be the best shot you could get with the camera. 

You met George at the base of the tower five minutes before 10, confusion etched on his face. 

“I see you wore the pajamas with a little lion embroidered on them,” you teased him, reaching for his hand. “My cute little Gryffindor.” 

He blushed at your words, but he took your hand nonetheless and let you lead him up the stairs. 

“You’re literally wearing the same ones but with a snake embroidered,” George said. 

“Hey, your mum made them, and I love them,” you told him. You squeezed his hand as you both laughed. 

Music from the radio played softly from the top of the tower, a song that neither of you had heard before. When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused briefly to press the record button on the camera. This caused a confused look to make its way onto George’s face, but you reassured him that nothing harmful was going to happen.  

You pulled him to the middle of the room, the chill from the winter night just barely reaching you. Pulling him close to you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. George instinctively put his arms around your waste. You started to sway to the slow song coming from the radio.

“We haven’t been up here in a while,” George whispered. 

“Not since fourth year when we flew right into the middle of Professor Sinistra’s nighttime class,” you said, laughing. 

“Hey, we both expected her to have a midnight class that night,” George said, “not an 8pm class.” 

“I didn’t even mind the detention we got from it,” you told him. “I was just happy that I beat you in the race up here.” 

“I remember you cheating to beat me up here,” George said, wrinkling up his nose to tease you. “You and your old money Malfoy broom nearly knocked me into the castle wall.” 

“All’s fair in love and war, Georgie,” you said. “I was just using the speed that broom gives me to its full potential.” 

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d still be mad about it.” He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “I still can’t believe you finally let me kiss you a year ago now.”

“You can thank Charlie for that actually. He gave me a little pep talk before I came outside that night.” You rested your head against his chest, listening to him hum along to the music. “Do you know this song?” 

“I’ve heard you play it before while you were at my house. I quite like it.” 

You pulled yourself as close to George as possible, trying to absorb his body heat. You hadn’t really thought about the open balcony and the winter weather when you planned this out. You leaned against him and swayed with the song, only really listening to his heartbeat through his chest. When the song was over and a more upbeat one came on, you pulled away just enough to look at his face. 

“Do you think Dumbledore really got The Weird Sisters to play tomorrow night,” you asked. 

“I hope so,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s all everyone’s been talking about the past few days.” 

“Speaking of the ball,” you started, “Did Fred ever ask that girl he likes to go with him?” 

“He asked Angelina a few days ago,” George told you. You wrinkled up your face in confusion. “What? They’re going as friends.” 

“But what about that Hufflepuff girl that he talks about constantly?” you asked. “I expected him to ask her, and I thought Lee and Angelina would go together.” 

“Lee’s going with a Ravenclaw fifth year, actually,” he informed you. “One of Cho Chang’s friends. Cedric actually set them up.” He seemed to have a hard time admitting that Cedric could do something nice for someone. George and Fred really held a grudge when it came to quidditch. 

“Cedric’s a good person, you know?” you said. “He wanted to have that rematch. But back to Fred; why is he being an idiot about his crush?”

“Because he is an idiot in general,” George said laughing. “He asked Angie just to prove to Ron that he had a date. He didn’t think it through.” 

You let out a sigh. “He’ll never learn.” 

The next song started with a familiar tune. “George, I think you’ll love this one!” 

You pulled away from him and grabbed his hand. There was no rhythm to your dancing, but it was fun nonetheless. George left all his worries behind and danced with you, not caring that you two definitely looked like idiots. He did really like the song that was playing, and he enjoyed it even more knowing that you loved it. 

You turned your camcorder off after that song, saving room on the tape for the next night too. You walked with George to the balcony, braving the cold to look over the snow covered grounds. Hogwarts really did look beautiful at this time of night. The moon reflected off the white snow and shone brightly over the Black Lake. The ship and the carriage looked like mere children’s toys from this far away. 

You rested your head against George’s shoulder as you both leaned against the railing. “Thank you, George.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For being my best friend, I guess,” you said. “It means a lot to me to have someone like you in my life.” 

“I’m glad I have you too,” He kissed the top of your head. 

You moved your head to kiss him properly, his body heat warming your face as you leaned in. The smell of potions clung to his skin, as he had been working on new products the entire last week. You caught the scent of a rather sweet one, and breathed in deeply. You pulled away reluctantly, but the cold was getting to you and you needed to head inside. 

George picked up the camera as you grabbed the radio, turning it off. You walked quietly down the stairs, hoping not to run into anyone at the bottom. He offered to walk you to your dorm, but you knew that Gryffindor tower was a lot closer than the dungeons, so you walked him there.

“Keep the camera for tomorrow,” you told him. “Record whatever mischief you get up to in the morning and then put it in the Great Hall.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He leaned in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hurried off down the hall as he climbed through the portrait hole. Sneaking down to the dungeons at this hour required a bit of stealth and luck, but you had done it enough to basically know the patrol schedules. You made it to the common room after only one near run in with a teacher, but you ducked behind a statue, just barely avoiding them. 

There were a few students left in the common room, so you casually put the radio back in its spot on the table. Hopefully no one had missed it too much. 

You made your way to your dorm room, opening the door quietly to not wake your roommates. The last embers of the fire were still burning in the fireplace, and they gave you just enough light to be able to see your way to your bed. The light from the moon didn’t reach this deep into the Black Lake when there was a layer of ice on top of it, so your windows remained pitch black. 

You laid in bed, pulling the quilt from last Christmas as close to you as you could. You breathed in the earthy smell and let out a content sigh. Sleep found you easily that night, and your mind raced with dreams of what tomorrow might be like. 

-----------------------------

The buzz and excitement in the air was contagious as everyone got ready before the ball. You had spent the morning in the common room with Adrian, trying to get him to tell you who he was going with, but he refused, saying that you’d find out in a few hours anyway. 

“Why won’t you just tell me?” you asked, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Why does it matter so much?” he asked in return, ignoring the look you were giving him. 

“Because I want a picture of us and our dates,” you said, “and if I don’t know who your date is, then I can’t force them to take the picture.” 

“I promise you’ll get your picture,” he said. “I’m meeting up with him in front--”

You nearly sprang to your feet, but kept yourself in your chair when you saw the look of embarrassment on his face. 

“So it’s not the seventh year Ravenclaw girl that has a crush on you,” you said, putting your hands over your mouth to think a bit. “I really thought it was her.”

Adrian looked flustered, his cheeks turning red. “What? No, no, she doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“She does,” you told him bluntly. “She asked me if you had a date about two weeks ago. I told her yes, but seeing as you won’t tell me who, I couldn’t give her more information.” 

Adrian sank back into the couch, wishing this conversation would end. You looked at him, still thinking about who he could be going with. 

“The Beauxbatons boy who wouldn’t stop staring at you on their first night here?” you pondered, but he remained quiet. “The fifth year Hufflepuff who ran into you in the hall last month? He’s cute and rather shy. I remember him apologizing profusely. I noticed him ducking his head away from you when we’d pass him in the hall after that.” 

You watched him for a reaction that would give you a yes or no answer, but all you noticed was his face getting redder. Adrian never really talked about crushes and who he liked. This conversation about people who maybe liked him seemed to be a little much for him. 

“Alright, one more guess,” you said, “and then I promise I’ll drop it until tonight.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You took it as a sign to go on. “It’s not one of your dorm mates, is it? They’re rather all kinda assholes.”  

You finally got a laugh out of him at that. “Absolutely not. I know them all way too well to ever want to go on a date with any of them.” 

“Good, just checking to make sure you were still sane,” you said, standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit. Meet back here before we head up?” Adrian gave a small nod as you headed towards your dorm. 

You got ready while the rest of your roommates chatted around you. The dress you had picked out just before the school year started hung from a hanger on your four poster bed. The purple fabric of it was accented nicely by some small gold details. You had added a little bit of magic to it over the past few months, making it more your own, rather than just a second hand find. 

You found Adrian a few hours later, sitting in the same spot you had left him; his casual clothes now swapped out for dress robes, and his hair neatly styled. 

“You look nice,” you told him, causing him to look up. 

“Thanks.” He stood up, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at you, taking in your dress. “You look great. Did you get the sparks to work?” 

“Yes!” you said excitedly, looking down at the gold details. “Technically not sparks, but you’ll see. Wait till George can see them too. Can you carry this?”

You handed him your disposable camera, and he quickly put it in his pocket. He held out his arm, and you easily linked yours in it. You headed out of the common room, ready to meet up with your dates.

Walking up the stairs from the dungeons, the first person you saw standing in front of the Great Hall was Ron in his interesting dress robes. He was staring angrily at two people as they walked into the hall. It took a second to realize the girl was Hermione, having never seen her with her hair done like that before. You recognized the boy as Viktor Krum when he turned to greet one of his friends as he walked past them. 

Viktor’s friend turned in your direction, and his face lit up with a smile as he saw you and Adrian. You turned to Adrian, who was smiling just as brightly back at the Durmstrang boy. 

“A Durmstrang boy?” you whispered to Adrian as you made your way over to him. The boy was tall, at least a few inches taller than Adrian, and his long dark hair hung to his shoulders. When he reached the two of you, he turned his attention to you and took your hand, kissing it softly. His green eyes looked into yours briefly. 

“Adrian has talked a lot about you,” the boy said, dropping your hand. He looked back over at Adrian, the softest expression on both of their faces.

“This is Georgi,” Adrian introduced you. You looked at him, trying to hide your expression of slight shock. 

This is exactly why he wouldn’t tell you the name of his date. He knew you would tease him about going to the ball with a boy who shared a name so similar to your boyfriend. In all honesty though, the two boys were almost nothing alike. Georgi seemed a little more subdued and quiet, opposed to George who, though quieter than his brother, was still too loud for his own good. 

While making polite conversation with Adrian and his date, you were also trying to find the twins in the crowd of people. You noticed them coming down the stairs with Lee and Angelina, Lee soon hurrying off to find his date. 

You nudged Adrian in the side and gestured towards the twins. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at you, and you set off through the crowd. 

“George!” you called as you ran up and hugged him. He and Fred were wearing matching outfits, probably passed down from their uncles to them.  

“Hello.” George pulled you back from the hug, looking at you fully. “You’re beautiful.” 

You ignored his statement, trying to hide the heat rising on your face. “Come on, I want you to meet Adrian’s date.” You looked at Fred and Angelina. “You too. I want a picture.” You pulled George’s hand, leading the group back through the crowd. 

“You put the camcorder in the Great Hall, right?” you said over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” George confirmed. “About an hour ago. You’ll just need to hit record.” 

Meeting up with Adrian again, you gestured to George, introducing him to the Durmstrang boy. “George, this is Georgi. Georgi, George. My boyfriend.” 

They stared at each other for half a second before Fred butted in. 

“Well, isn’t that fun,” he said with a grin. 

You just grinned at Adrian, a smug look on your face.

You introduced Fred and Angelina and chatted for a bit before pulling another student over, who you knew was muggleborn, to take a picture of the six of you. Adrian nudged you and pointed to your dress. You looked down at it before realizing what he was suggesting. 

“Oh,” you said, catching the attention of the group. “I almost forgot. I added a little magic to my dress. Adrian, do you mind doing the honors?”

He pointed his wand at your dress, and a translucent, almost invisible smoke came out of the end. Tendrils of smoke reached out, attaching themselves to the center of each little gold detail and then disappearing into the dress. Each gold detail began to shake, as if filled with an immense energy. Suddenly, the details exploded across the dress, mimicking fireworks to the best of their ability. After a moment, they settled into their original shape. 

The group was staring at you, transfixed on what had just happened. 

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” Georgi finally said, a look of wonder on his face. 

“That’s because Adrian and I invented it, just for this,” you told him. You smiled as you looked over at Adrian. “We’ve been working on spells and such all of term in our free time. So far we only got the radio to work, and now this. This one isn’t perfect though. The smoke isn’t supposed to be there; it’s supposed to just be an immediate effect.”

George could tell that you were rambling now. He could see that your ramblings were bringing your excitement over the fantastic job you did down into doubt about how it didn’t work exactly how you wanted it to. He reached out and grabbed your hand. 

“It was beautiful,” he said. He looked into your eyes, trying to bring your attention to only him, trying to calm you down. “You know I love fireworks. Maybe they could be a part of the uniform at our shop.”

You smiled at him, giving a small laugh. “That would be wonderful.”

You turned back to the group and noticed Angelina standing by herself, Fred nowhere in sight. “Where’s Fred gone off to?” 

“He said he needed to talk to someone,” Angelina said, pointing towards the stairs that led towards the kitchens. 

You turned, expecting to find Fred putting a firecracker in someone's robes, but instead found him trying to get the attention of the Hufflepuff girl. She was standing close to another Durmstrang boy, but looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. She kept trying to scoot closer to Cedric, but every time she did, the Durmstrang boy would scoot with her. Cedric said something to her before he took Cho by the hand and led her into the Hall. Fred called her name again, but she continued to ignore him, instead saying something to her date before they too walked to the Hall. 

“Why didn’t he just ask her?” Angelina asked beside you. “I would’ve been fine going with someone else.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not wrong,” Angelina agreed. 

The entrance hall was getting emptier as everyone filed into the Great Hall. You took this as the cue to follow suit. You stood in the large crowd, pressing play on your camcorder as the school champions were ushered to the dance floor. The dancing started, and George almost immediately pulled you to the dance floor as more people joined in. 

The night went by quickly, but you would always be able to watch it back thanks to your camcorder, and look at pictures that you took. 

Your favorite picture by far was one of Adrian squished in a hug between the twins, their red hair and gold vests standing out extravagantly against his all black outfit. Adrian and the twins were still not the best of friends, but over the past few months they had all agreed to try to get along for your sake. The twins liked to show their progress through aggressive acts of friendliness. 

The videos were another story. They showed the night in motion and sound, something you were eternally thankful for. You could never give enough thanks to your dad for buying the camcorder for you. 

The video of the school champions dancing showed Hermione being the happiest you had ever seen her. It was quickly interrupted by you laughing as George pulled you onto the dance floor, followed by Fred grabbing Angelina to dance with him. It even caught a bit of McGonagall dancing with Dumbledore, a surprising sight, as you had thought you would never see either of them dancing in your life. 

You caught a video of Percy, zoomed way in on his grumpy face as he watched his ex-girlfriend dancing with someone else. Penelope looked happy with the boy she was dancing with though. You knew in a few years, hopefully, Percy would be able to laugh at his emotions too. 

You got Fred and George pulling Percy, Ron, and Harry out of their seats as The Weird Sisters started to play. Ginny joined their group to dance with her brothers; the three excited Weasleys trying their best to dance the grumpiness out of the others. You set the camera down on a table, facing the group and ran to grab Adrian and Georgi. Passing Angelina and Alicia on the way back, you told them to come with you too. Your large group now took up much of the dance floor, but no one seemed to mind as you all jumped around to the song the band was playing. 

The next video had the band playing a slower song in the background. The camera just sitting on a table, having been accidentally turned on by someone. It showed the Hufflepuff girl sitting at a table with Percy. They were talking, but the music drowned out any words that they were saying. Percy looked a little happier than he did earlier. Fred came into frame, sitting next to Percy, but putting his whole attention on the girl. She said a few short words to him, but when it was obvious she didn’t want to talk, he got up and walked towards the camera. He must have noticed it was on, because he mumbled a few words at it before the video cut off. 

There was a short video of you and Adrian walking outside in front of the castle, lights sparkling around you. George and Fred were a few paces ahead of you, talking about something you couldn’t hear. Georgi had offered to record for a bit, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. The video cut off abruptly when the camera was dropped. 

The last video on the camera was George recording you as you were leaving the Hall for the night. 

“How was your night,” he asked from behind the camera. 

“I had a great night,” you told him, walking backwards. You were holding up your dress so you didn’t trip. “Better than some people.”

The camera panned over to Fred, who flicked it off. He had a smile on his face, though, so you knew he still had a wonderful time. George moved the camera to catch Angelina in frame. 

“Did you still have a good time,” he asked her, “even though your date was kinda a drag?” 

“I had a wonderful time,” Angelina said as she put her arms around Alicia and Katie, who were walking beside her. “I still had my best friends to lift the mood.” 

“And what about you,” George turned so now he was walking backwards, camera pointed at Adrian and Georgi. They were walking hand in hand, Adrian’s head resting on Georgi’s shoulder. 

“It was alright,” Adrian said, smiling up at his date. Georgi squeezed Adrian’s hand. 

You had now reached the base of the stairs that led up to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone stopped walking to say their goodbyes. 

“One more thing,” you said to the camera. “I wanna get my spell on record.” You grabbed out your wand and pointed it at your dress, setting the fireworks in motion. 

“Beautiful, as always,” George hummed behind the camera. “I think this is where we part ways.” He took your hand in his. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.” 

The video stopped as you leaned in to kiss him. 

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH2

one //

Warnings | Mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, other chapters include smut 18+

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

creds to @vogueweasley​ for the moodboard<3

The warmth on your skin as George's arm lazily draped over your side, truly was a feeling you could get used to. Shamelessly it was your fourth night in a row you'd spent in his bed, a part of you longed for you to wake up in his arms every morning. George was not a heavy sleeper, easily disrupted by anyone and anything, perhaps the only way he'd ever sleep through the night was when he'd passed out drunk. Having seen just how affectionate he gets after a few too many shots, you were glad you hadn't been at the fire whisky fuelled celebrations. 

Sneaking around with George was much easier at Hogwarts, no cameras, no fame, no interruptions; just kisses and evenings together. Part of the reason you and George had such a good time together in Muggle London was that more often than not, you were just a normal couple, free to kiss and hold each other in front of everyone. He pulled you from bed early that morning to take you on a surprise trip before your training that evening. 

He'd gotten you to wrap up warm and comfy in an attempt to block out the freezing British winter winds. The ten minute walk from your home to the Embankment was full of conversations about all of the gorgeous Christmas displays, you even begged him to let you put up the Christmas tree early in the house, giving in when you looked at him with your puppy dog eyes, "I'm so whipped, aren't I?" he laughed, fingers interlocking with yours as you walked. His eyes trailed across the river before an Idea popped into his head, he nodded towards the London Eye, sat proudly across the river in all of its glory. "What do you say, Princess? Fancy heading up there for a bit?" 

Your eyes were beaming the minute the wheel started spinning. You'd managed to get a pod all to yourselves, a rare opportunity, but one you grasped with two hands, laughing as he picked you up and spun you round and around. "We should run." you spoke softly, hand running through his hair gently as you looked into his eyes. "For you, I would." he murmured, catching your lips for a long kiss, it wasn't quick or fiery, just a deep, long passionate kiss. He took his time with you because he had it, there wasn't any rush here, no chance of being caught or stopped. His kiss said a thousand words about the way he loved you.

Looking out over London's bustling city with your head in George's chest made you realise just how perfect a life with him was. When there were no cameras, no press, no fakery and especially no Cherry in sight, It was easy to feel every beat of his heart, as they synced together beating as one. You were tracing circles on the back of his hand taking in every curve of his knuckles and the beauty of every sporadic freckle. Only you could differentiate the touch of your lover so distinctly, you felt him in the way he curled his fingertips up when he cupped your jaw, or how his arm would wrap around your waist with enough strength that made you feel protected. 

"Where would we go if we ran?" You mumbled softly, your small fingers slotting through the gaps between his own. "Remote Indonesia…" he joked, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'd go anywhere with you, My Love, one day we won't have to run, I Just wish eighteen year old me had enough balls to say he loved you and then we wouldn't be in this mess." you shook your head, pulling his arms around you tighter as you snuggled into his hold, "Don't you dare, George, It's you and me forever, no matter what, right?" he hummed contently, pulling your hand up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, trailing kisses up your arm to your neck between every word. "Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever…"

 //

You'd just stumbled your way into your dorm, arm still in a sling after a pretty nasty accident, a bludger to the ribcage never did a girl any good. A box of chocolates lay on your bed, as well as a note. 

Words aren't enough to tell you how sorry I am, I'll make it up to you, I promise . Get well soon, Y/N <3

-G

Locking eyes with George from across the great hall as you sat with your friends and he with his, he was looking at you with pleading, guilty glances. It really wasn't George's fault that the bludger hit you, sure he hit it, but you were on rival teams and that was the danger of the game. If the fact that he was the first at your side when you struck the floor should've made it obvious, but the fact that you were struggling to breathe and you couldn't move much really over shone the moment. 

You were sat in the room of requirement, in front of the roaring fire, staring directly at each other. You were only a month into the relationship and It wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar, he wasn't sure if he could touch you or hold you, let alone kiss the pain away. Instead he settled for holding your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it comfortably. 

"You need to stop blaming yourself George," 

"But I hurt you, and I-" 

"Shh, baby, the massive Iron ball hurt me… It’s all part of the game." You had now leant forward to crawl onto your knees, kneeling before him, you pressed your lips to his, making him forget about his bewitching thoughts, now only focused on you. 

"I'm going to protect you." George stated so matter-of-factly, that it made you recoil slightly. It was tough words from a 16 year old. He caught your expression, "I'm serious. It's going to be me and you, Forever." You were blushing, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. 

"No matter what?" You questioned. 

"Forever, no matter what."

//

After your impromptu date, George made his way to the shop and you went back to his to grab your phone, and get ready for practice. You'd left it there, the time away from the pinging and buzzing from Cherry's latest update

 or her next best opportunity. You were unsurprised by the 30 odd messages from your Publicist rambling on, but one stuck out like a sore thumb. Fred. 'shit' you thought, 'I've gone and missed something.' hesitantly opening the message to see just one message. 

>> are you gonna head by the shop today? No worries if not, I know you're busy x

<< I’ll try and pop in before practice, if not… coffee tomorrow? :)

You contemplated how your reply sounded while you stripped from your clothes to pull on your branded activewear, a picture caught your eye, the Gryffindor quidditch team, captained by Oliver Wood in Harry’s first year. They all looked so young and eager to get out onto the field. A devilish idea crept into your mind and you found yourself rooting through George’s drawers, finding exactly what you had set out for. You pulled on the old Gryffindor quidditch sweater, observing yourself in the mirror, It was odd to see yourself in the deep maroon and orange after years of donning the silver and green. You picked up your phone, sending George a quick text. 

<< Meet me down the alley by B&B… I need to show you something. I’ll be 5 x

>> I won’t ask ;) x

You wrapped your coat around your shoulders, slinging your duffel over your arm before grabbing your wand, apperating just up Knockturn Alley. you checked over your shoulder, hoping not to be caught, you passed Bourgin and Burkes, spotting the boy with fiery red hair standing down the secluded alley. 

“What did you need to show me then, trouble?” he joked leaning against the wall, steam billowing from his lips from the bitter cold. You smirked, unzipping your coat to show him the knitted sweater. “Is that-” you cut him off with a nod, fingertips reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his strong hands catch your wrists, pinning you against the wall. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” he was half joking, smirking down at you as you rolled your eyes. He caught your lips in a hurried kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cup the side of your face. 

Even with your eyes closed you noticed the bright flash, a flash you knew all too well. You’d been caught. Thinking quickly on your toes, you put on your signature giggle, pushing George’s chest away while whispering a soft ‘play along’, as your eyes caught his, you bat your eyelashes. “Freddie, stop it will you?” he tried his hardest not to laugh, as he backed up holding his hands up in defeat. “I can’t hold my girl from her practice any longer.” the small group of paparazzi were begging for another kiss, or at least more interaction, you dragged George away from the scene, “show’s over I’m afraid folks!” the cameras continued to rapidly flash as you  quickly apperated him away from the scene to his office. 

“That’s gonna be the front page tomorrow,” you sighed as you slumped into his desk chair, throwing your bag to the floor, “Cheryl is going to murder me in broad daylight,” He was gently rubbing your shoulder, before he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll fix it, baby.” he reassured you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Forever.” the word that quickly became your ‘I love you’. You stood and pulled off the jumper, as well as your jacket, handing him back what was his. “Make sure to take it home will you? We can have some fun later with it,” you smirked, picking up your bag and sending him a wink before apperating to practice. 

Cherry’s deep red car was outside of the stadium, you dreaded the conversation that was about to happen, contemplating just bolting out of there. ‘Better to face her head on than piss her off’ you thought, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before opening up the door and climbing into the passenger seat with a smile. “You should’ve said you were swinging by and I would’ve showered, I feel bad stinking up your car!” you joked, trying your best to sound surprised by her visit as you pulled your duffel onto your lap. 

“Good news, You’ll be the front cover of the prophet tomorrow.” you gasped, a smile on your lips, “I am?” she laughed, tapping away on her phone, pulling up a picture, “Yeah it’s you and Fred… locking lips. Care to explain what happened to the ‘no kissing’ rule” You took the phone thrust into your face by your publicist, looking at the picture snapped just a few hours prior. You had to admit George did look pretty sexy in the position he was caught in, you looked over at her with pleading eyes. “I’d love to congratulate you, but that’s not Fred you’re kissing, is it?”

You cocked your eyebrow at her, “Who else would it be? Of course it’s Freddi- wait you don’t think that’s George do you?” you laughed, pressing your lips together, to stop the full laugh erupting. “Don’t let Fred hear you say that, he gets funny about people mistaking him for George, you know.” she looked back at you blankly, clearly unappreciative of your laughter. “Come on Cherry, what reason would I have to be kissing George?” you tried to think of a reason around the ‘no kissing rule’ “The only reason I don’t like kissing Fred at events is because I don’t want it to seem fake, I’m obviously not adverse to kissing him, I just like to do it in private, He is an attractive man after all.”  Cheryl was now squinting at you, she sighed however, pulling her phone back out of your hands. 

“You’re right, why would It be George?” she adds, pulling the car out of it’s parking space, “Here, I’ll drop you home, you need a shower desperately.” you laughed pulling out your phone, seeing a text from both of the twins. 

>> Let me know when you’re on your way home, I’ll stick the shower on for us ;) x

>> Coffee tomorrow it is! :) 

When you jump out of the car, Cherry rolls down her window, to speak to you. “I want a nice kiss like that for the product launch.” you go to protest but she cuts you off. “Make it happen.” and with that she was away in the wind.

Today was a close call, almost too close for comfort. You and George needed to be more careful, and harder yet, you had to keep that copy of the Daily Prophet out of Fred’s eyeshot. 

// TO BE CONTINUED // Chapter Three >>>>>

taglist //  @starlightweasley​ @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @pigwidgexn​@starkidpotty​ @mrmoonyy​ @mackaywhore​ @softlyqoos​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @fandomscombine​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​ @aaannabbanana​ @kaylahmarie​

[vannyvancan]

"mr assassin" Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 2

Part 2 of your Roommate/Assassin!Shinsou is here! First of all I wanna thank y'all for liking the first part so much! In this part we go deeper in darker theme of it, so just a fair warning.

my masterlist. Hope you have a great day and happy reading!

Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader,  gun usage, slight insecurity, NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harrasment

Day five of living with your new roommate. He hadn't shown much of an interest in harming you...

That was swell.

You huffed out a breath of relaxation when the realization hit, but not also that, things weren't as bad as you expected! The thought you'd get a nasty roommate who would leave much more bigger mess than you was on the mind... but he seems to be the one who cleans as well? A welcome surprise indeed.

Shinsou was an enigma, waking up early at five am, neatly sorting his clothing and coming back late at 11 pm, he didn't seem restless, which could only mean he probably has a second accommodation where he rests and eats as well. It also explains why he only had one bag with him which you had decency and never saw what was inside. Besides...

He had given you a glare yesterday when you stared at it for long with those white pupils of his.

Even though he was soft spoken, he always managed to find a way to poke fun at you before he left. Granted, you were quiet surprised when he made you a french toast every morning! He barely knows you, but you were grateful to have found a roommate that in one way or another showed his gratitude. Afterwards, you felt obligation to one up him and return the favour. Now dragging your dear friend out, you giggled at the phone text from Uraraka as she immediately started spewing jokes about your potential 'future' with him.

„What an idiot.“ You grinned to yourself, walking down the street to the meeting place, you were about to go shopping with her, you still had to supply yourself with comfortable winter clothing.

„Y/N!“ Uraraka's voice reached your ears.

„Hey! Long time no see!“

„Very long time indeed!“

Uraraka rushed her step to give you the biggest hug there was. She was the sweetest friend and was always there for you no matter the circumstances. Now both of you dragging yourselves in the clothing store

„You just got off from work right? How was it?“ She asked, looking at time, it was now 5 pm.

„Tiring, its even worse because they fired colleagues before summer so now all of us have extra hour of work.“

„Oh no. But at least you will be rewarded more no? More hours equal more pay.“

„Nope, it's the same job in the end, they just extended work time.“ Frowning at the work contract on the mind, it was a very high chance it will drastically change soon as well.

„It's very... bad.“ You nervously laughed as you walked together.

„One time they fired someone from storage, only to replace them with boss's relative. By law its forbidden, but they made up a name for the new position that does the same job in storage. So it seems valid, but its not.“

„Ah... it happened here as well, but uhm.“ Uraraka started

„Hmm?“

„There's been some disappearances from our parent company, we are having a bit of a rescheduling on our own as well.“ Uraraka nervously chuckled and scratched the back of her head, it was quiet obvious there's been some action going on on her end as well.

„But enough about that, how's Shinsou~?“ She teasingly leaned in and poked her pink cheek.

Your mind shifted to the now roommate, the intimidating figure had you stuttering for a second. Obviously, Uraraka shouldn't of hung out with Mina so often back in college days, because it was so obvious she wanted to pull out some flustering on your end as well. Her curiosity especially hit the peak since she heard your voice hit higher notes when talking about him.

„I-I.. U-um. Okay, fuck! I can't!“ Both of the palms now covered your face to hide the embarrassment.

„Ahah! Is he that hot? You didn't react like that for so long!“

„Shut up!“ You huff out „It's enough that he made a toast for me yesterday, now I don't know how to return the favor. I want to get close to him, but he's unapproachable.“

The brunette put a finger on her lower lip in deep thought.

„Maybe if he's so busy, you can make him little lunches in a box, since he's so busy.“

„Uraraka, that's so childish.“

„It's not! You have to show him your soft side! Poke around, maybe he likes it.“

„My soft side?“

Grimacing as she advised, you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Now hesitantly picking up shirts and pants from the shopping stand, you managed to pick decent clothing for the upcoming winter before the prices skyrocket, it was expensive already but you managed to find something cheap. Your eyes trailed to find a plain white scarf, it was really nice quality, and rather cheap, but the sudden thoughts redirected to Shinsou as fingers tried out the material.

Maybe its not a bad idea to try and open up, you'll try but there should be equal effort on his end as well. Now snatching the scarf from the stand, you both bought your things and left the store, suddenly being nudged on the shoulder by the pink cheeked individual, you let out a relieved laughter while walking home for today.

...

„No, no! Please, Spare me!“

„I'm afraid job's a job.“

„No, please! My wife-!“

-SNAP-

„... Operation successful, returning to the main area. Prepare for body disposal.“

„Roger that Mindjack.“

On the broad daylight, Shinsou had eliminated yet another target for today, this time it was a business man whose life spiraled down in gambling addiction, the man who had hired him said he owned too much and knew too much to be kept alive.

Drugs and gambling went hand in hand, it was no different that the client probably had some shady stuff going on on their end as well. Shinsou had to keep his eye open on this one as well.

„Dispatched him quickly?“ Shoto came by side to Shinsou while adjusting dark gloves on.

„Yeah.“

„Good. Let me help you up.“

Several moments later, a truck came by to pick the dead body up, Kirishima's disguise as a trash driver made both of them cringe for a moment, but quickly brushed it off as Shoto and Shinsou threw it away. The cleanup crew should get rid of their traces now, all he has to do is get away as fast as possible from here. Shoto and Shinsou entered in the truck and drove in silence.

„You blocked the spot quiet nicely Shoto! Made a nice clearing for Shinsou to execute.“ Kirishima praised

„I merely blocked the parking lot. I don't see it being worth a mention.“

„Man, but missions like these always for newbies rely on stalking and timing. And this was perfect.“

„Nothing is perfect in this line of business.“ Shinsou ripped off his gloves and cracked his own neck to relieve tension. „Karma will hit you back hard if you don't know what you are doing.“

„Yeah yeah, it isn't very manly if you're in it just for cash, I mean... I'm rooting for justice and y'all, don't go thinking I am blind to what you guys are doing.“

Shoto and Shinsou fell silent. It was hard to swallow the truth, the car ride to the safe house wasn't long, soon Kirishima hit the brakes and came to a stop to the small abandoned storage house on the outskirts of the city. Shoto jumped out to take care of the body while Shinsou assisted with it, after they were done, Kirishima checked the contract for the job well done and handed the payment. A block of dollar bills now in their hands, the digital transfer of money would raise eyebrows in eyes of banks, so the money transfer was best if it was physical.

„Here you go boys! Boss says that the next contract is gonna be handed out tomorrow, you are free for the rest of the evening.“

„Tomorrow already?“ Shinsou asks.

„Yeah, what did you mean with that question?“

„I was thinking of looking into the client of the previous contract. Do some research and possibly eliminating him.“

Kirishima clicked with his tongue while Shoto huffed out and fiddled with the block of money in his hands.

„Sorry man. Solo contracts wont get you money, and gateways like us wont help you since we put too much at stake. You are on your own if you are gonna kill someone who is off the list.“ Kirishima explained

„Why would you even do it?“ Shoto asked, „Its not like the guy did you anything bad.“

Before Shinsou could answer Kirishima pat his back two times before turning on his heel to store his equipment away and head home himself for today.

„Mindjack has always been like that, even before you started working with. He sorta goes off on his own at times, seeking who needs killin' and who doesn't. That's why we hired you Shoto.“

„Can't blame me for doing what I think its right.“ Shinsou lowered his head, „All I need is time, That's why I was taken aback when a new contract was announced for tomorrow.“

„Alright alright, Mr. Assassin. You'll get your time. Someday. For now, this handsome manly man is going to go home for tonight! I'm going to get myself some hot bath.“

„See you Red. I'll be going too, Goodnight Mindjack.“

The departure was short, Shinsou took his bag and changed clothes before heading back, the bad smell could of easily rub off on him and he didn't want you to start speculating things. Even though he mostly ends his victim's lives in a way where no blood can be shed, it was a close call when she started eyeing the bag yesterday. He hated it, but he had already planned out way's to kill the roommate he was living with for any situation if she found out his true work.

'I don't need any of you to help me in my solo hunt.' He thought to himself, putting his black leather jacket on and helmet, he checked out his surroundings before revving up his bike and driving away.

The evening was busy as people were going back from work, it was 6 pm after all and he was stressing out on the fact that he will have to see his roommate. Maybe he could take a spin? Or start investigating on his own, but he didn't have time, he needed it. Rumbling of the bike eased tension he had from the committed crime, but only barely. As he came to a red light he slowed down and realized he was shaking badly, he knew it was not only from the setting sun and chilling air slowly creeping in, but also of stress. The realization that he might get caught always hit him harder after it settled in his mind. He inhaled deeply and eyed the nearby passengers. His eyes land on a woman in distance he never thought he would run into.

It was you, and you have been on your way to the flat with things you've gotten. The fact you saved up on the flat made you relax and indulge in the little shopping spree with Uraraka and groceries. You smiled from ear to ear nevertheless the tiredness creeping on you from the day.

„Mm...“ You sighed and rolled your shoulders.

„Maybe I'll make the thing she told me.“

You honestly looked like a happy child after realizing now that you have a roommate who pays for half of the expenses, you have extra cash to buy for things and make food at home. It wasn't a big deal to go out and buy something since it was cheap to buy a box of instant meal, but you wanted to cook your own food for a long time now. As you looked in the grocery bag and already beginning to think of the recipe you'd think for it, you suddenly bumped onto a stranger who didn't quiet follow his surroundings either. The harsh impact almost made you fall behind flat on your backside, but you managed to find balance. 'How rude-!' you thought.

„Ah-! S-sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you sir-„

„Watch where you are stepping wench-! I swear, women like you need to fucking know their place and stay at home.“

Excuse me?

Since when did this idiot have any right to find you to get his frustrations out?

You frowned at his sentence, knowing better not to engage with a random incel on the streets at evening hours, whose breath reeked of beer and bad hygiene, you decided to clutch your bags and pass by him hurriedly.

„Don't fucking ignore me!“

„Hey! Let me go!“

The man captures your wrist harshly and doesn't let go, now pulling you towards himself, he makes your belongings and your body stumble forward. His other hand wrap around your waist and starts dragging you along with him. Trying to shake yourself away only resulted in him recapturing you. He started laughing and you only now realize he quiet probably meant to bump into you.

He was trying to kidnap you-

„I said you are a bitch! Now you'll know your place-!“

„Let me go!“

Closing your eyes, the strong grip bruised your wrist and you yelped in pain, Your eyes veiled with tears as his disgusting sweaty hands found their way on your thighs to try and attempt to carry you, but the hold that was on you was suddenly broken free and a strong impact of a punch made the man fall flat on the ground. You were quiet sure you heard something broke as well.

„Agh! Son of a-!“

The adrenaline spiked in your veins and you immediately snapped out of it to see what was going on. Another hand rested on you almost protectively, you raised head to see a dark dressed figure that was very familiar. You were quiet shocked to find Shinsou held you close to his chest, wasn't he supposed to work until very late? You hear his quickened heartbeat and deep breathing as he gazed into the eyes of an attacker. Clutching onto him, you immediately felt more sorry for the drunken individual that had attacked you. Hooded eyes with dark eye bags were visible with blood rush, he stared down at his victim like a prey.

„I honestly can't believe how uncool you are, attacking a woman.“ He tilted his head on the side „Piss off before I do anything worse.“

The drunkard scrambled to his feet, he held onto his nose, groaning in pain inflicted by just his one punch.

„You fucker-! You broke my fucking nose!“

He charged again at Shinsou and you. This time, Shinsou quickly dispatched him by a high kick in his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. He hunched over and fell flat face forward, deeming him now unconscious. Your mouth went agape at his form, even though there were no visible passerby's, the drivers could certainly call police and at any moment and both of you would get caught.

„Shinsou!“ You panicked, finally reacting at the scene.

„Come on, lets get the hell out from here. He's bad news.“ He pat your shoulders and helped you scramble the bags that were on the ground.

He led you to climb on his bike that you were quiet hesitant to get on at first, he didn't let you get acquainted as the time was limited and you let out a noise of protest at first.

„We have no time, grab onto me.“ He revved up his bike and it rumbled.

„You just gonna escape like that!?“ You asked „What gives he's not gonna blame it on us? The police-“

„Police is not going to do shit.“ He glared at you „Unless you want to call them right now and deal with this sort of mess on Thursday evening, be my guest.“

You whined again, thinking thoroughly on his words you knew he was right so you followed his orders. If anything Shinsou was a witness if both of you ever end up getting caught. Holding onto the bags in your hand, you decided it was a better option to leave. Now climbing on you adjusted yourself in back of seat, the view in front of you were of his back, now starting to get illuminated by the street lights. He smelled nice, despite it being closed off by the leather jacket, his vibrant purple hair was flattened by the helmet, and you couldn't shake off the thought that you were about to hold him. You let your left hand slip around his stomach while your right one grips his shoulder.

Fuck, he was solid.

The gas made you back up a bit and grip on him tighter as he violently sped forwards to escape the scene. You hid your face in his back and held onto dear life. You weren't acquainted with bike's, most of your life was spent driving in cars and public transport, but you were quiet thankful to have him tell you when to lean on sides as you took turns.

„Just like riding a bicycle“ He claimed.

You relaxed after he talked more about it, there was something about him being calm in this situation made you very thankful. If he hadn't shown up...

Well, you wouldn't like to think about it.

He slowed down and stopped as the lights turned orange, then red, he took this opportunity to check on you. Shinsou leaned back and turned to you.

„You okay?“

„Y-yeah, still a bit shaken up about it. I... think I'll be fine. What about you?“

„I'm good.“ He replied shortly, his curt expression not giving anything else away.

In his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to help, the thought of comforting a victim was very alien to him. He could manage dispatching the person quickly, but he would rather much leave a therapy session to others. There was something about how he emotionally closed off himself that helped him do what he was working for, but it was never in favor when someone needed emotional support, like you right now.

His thought process was interrupted by a white scarf now gently falling around his neck.

„Your facial expression doesn't quiet match your body language Mr. Shinsou. Here, have this, your body is shaking.“

„What is this?“ He asked, tenderly reaching for the soft white fabric and letting the warmth of it settle around his neck.

„Its a scarf... I was planning on giving it to you. You are a good roommate to me.“

His eyes lit up at the realization, his knee was thumping up and down in nervousness from what he had been overthinking about, whats wrong with this woman? Is she going to be the one giving him the therapy session? He better not go soft now. The light turned green and you took a last turn to your place and he parked nearby. Both of you got off and he helped you by giving you a hand and with the bags.

„You didn't have to.“

„That's not true, I had to! I know work's probably putting a lot of strain on you just like mine is, and I know you mean only well, hell, you've been cooking an extra toast just for me.. and now you saved me.“

Both of you came to a stop as you entered the building. You sighed a little bit as words of gratitude escaped you

„And I just want to say.. Thank you."

Wide eyed like a kitten, he seemed so innocent if he didn't act so suspicions all the time. But this time you were so happy on seeing your roommate warming up to you. He was speechless for a solid second, he raised the scarf just a little bit to hide his mouth and nose.

Was he blushing?

"You really think that huh?" He asks, it was a simple question, but it got you stuttering madly and you looked onward, taking big steps as suddenly your flat was the lifeline of a place to be in right now. Shinsou himself didn't want to admit it but looking at you being cheerful after the events set his mind at ease.

"O-of course! A-and don't think that that you are ever a bad person, whoever is telling you bad things at work... They are wrong, because you are actually a really nice person... I think." You said without looking back.

„Now you are just sprouting nonsense.“ He chuckled and followed closely behind.

„Come on! I'm gonna cook us dinner. We are gonna feast.“

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

By Drazzilder 

Chapter 19: Birthday 

It’s spring and you are turning 35 today. Normally birthdays never meant anything to you. The most you got in the facility was a prepackaged cupcake to celebrate. You couldn’t even celebrate while on the run for obvious reasons so it’s nice to finally celebrate it. Enji has been very silent about the day except for asking if you want anything special. You don’t really want anything for your birthday, you are just happy to have everything you have now: a family that loves you.

The morning starts off not too different than normal. You get up and start cooking breakfast like normal but there looks to be new pots and pans with matching cooking utensils. Enji must have heard your surprised voice because he came down faster than normal.

“Happy Birthday (Y/N).” he says with the biggest smile.

“Thank you Enji. I love it!”

“With all the cooking you do for the family, I thought some new tools would be nice for you.”

You give him a big hug and kiss his cheek. “It’s perfect. Did you want anything special for breakfast?”

“Why are you cooking? It’s your birthday, I should be cooking for you.”

“Remember the last time you cooked eggs?” you say squinting at him.

“Fair point… I’ll be happy with anything you cook. Don’t forget your going out today with Shoto and Natsuo to the mall to get them new school clothes.”

“Sounds like fun to me.” You smile.

After breakfast, you head out with the boys to go shopping. As soon as the front door closes, Enji and Fuyumi get to work. After some phone calls, a truck comes to the house. Package after package enters the house and start to fill the living room. A 4-foot-tall cake is delivered to the house and placed in the dining room. The last package is so large that it can’t fit in the house so Enji has the workers crane into the backyard to hide it.

“Dad, I know you love (Y/N) and all but don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“He told me he has never had a birthday celebration before so I wanted to make it special. I already missed the past few birthdays.”

“He looked happy just to get pots and pans. I just hope you don’t overwhelm him.”

“He will be fine. What’s next on the list?”

“Decorations.”

“Ok, let’s keep going.”

~

The shopping trip is lasting a lot longer than you initially thought it would. Shoto and Natsuo are having a hard time deciding on what to buy. They go from store to store, being indecisive the entire time. Even your patience is wearing thin as the day goes on.

(Y/N): “Can you please just decide on something.” You say in an exasperated tone.

N: “Shoto, what do you think of this?” he says holding up a punk style jacket.

S: “I don’t know, doesn’t really look like you.”

Z: “Ok, now I’m even getting annoyed. If you two don’t pick something, I will make you!” he says as your eye starts glowing brighter.

N: “Just give me a little more time.”

(Y/N): “FUCKING HELL! It’s been 4 hours! I already know that you’re here to keep me away from the house.”

S: “There goes the surprise.”

N: “Did you use your mind reading powers on us?”

(Y/N): “I didn’t have to; you’re here taking forever while your father and sister are at home. It’s obvious. Just tell me how much longer we have to wait.” You say covering your eyes with one hand out if frustration.

S: “Dad said he will text us. What about it being a surprise?”

(Y/N): “I can act when I need to. Can we just stop to get something to eat, Zaheer is getting restless inside of me?”

Z: “This is torture, even for a demon.”

After some lunch and waiting some more, you finally get the text message to come back home. You take the train home to give them more time if they need it. Whatever is going on seems to be taken care of because nothing looks amiss at the front door. However, that all changes when you open the door. Confetti cannons go off as you’re blinded by the paper. Enji and Fuyumi come out as she shouts “Happy Birthday!” You do your best try to act surprised but you are more shocked at everything that is going on. The living room is stacked almost to the ceiling with presents, there are streamers and balloons everywhere, and the birthday cake looks like it might catch fire with the number of candles on it.

Fuyumi grabs your arm and pulls you to the giant cake. “Quickly, blow at the candles and make a wish!”

After blowing out all the candles, with some effort, you look at everything. “You didn’t have you do all of this.”

Enji hugs you. “Well, I wanted to do this for you. You have a lot of presents to open so you better get started.”

(Y/N): “All of those are for me?”

F: “Yea, I think dad went a little overboard. There is about 200 presents.”

“A little?” You say looking at the massive stack of gives. You start with the closest one. Its small but when you open it, it’s a Rolex watch. You look at Enji who has a smile on his face.

“I saw you looking at it one day. After we left, I ordered it immediately.”

“Enji…. I love it but you didn’t have to do this. Are all of the gifts this expensive?” You say in shock.

“Not all of them but nothing is too much for the person I love the most.”

As the day wears on, you open more and more gifts. Designer clothing, shoes, electronics, knives, and anything else you had your eyes on was a present. After all the presents were open, you eat some cake. Between the five of you, you barely made a dent in the cake that could serve 250+. You’re getting more annoyed at this point when Enji says there is one last gift. Everyone heads outside and you see a cloth with a bow on top of a large preset. When you pull the cloth off, it’s the sports car you have been looking at for a while. You are at your breaking point when you finally speak.

“Kids, can you leave your father and I alone for a little bit.”

After they leave with some questioned looks. “Did you have a good birthday, (Y/N)?” he says with a faint smile.

“Enji…. I can’t accept all of this.” You say looking at the car.

“What do you mean? I got you everything you wanted.”

“But I don’t need all of this stuff.”

“Fuyumi told me to get whatever you like. I told her some of the things you looked at and she said that’s a good way to get what you like.”

“That is a good way to do it, but did you think about what you were buying?”

“What?”

You say coming towards him, holding his hand. “Enji…. why would I need a car?”

“You have been searching that car a lot and I saw you look at it in person when it drove up next to us one day. I thought you really wanted it.”

“But I can teleport…”

“Oh… that’s what you mean.”

“I appreciate all of this, I really do, but it’s too much. How much did this cost?”

“More than I want to admit.” He says turning away from you.

“Ok, can you tell me how many credit cards you maxed out for this?”

“5…” he mumbles.

“And how long have you been working on this?”

“3 months….” He says realizing the problem.

“You didn’t have to do this much for me. I know what you were trying to do but you don’t have to make up for all the birthdays I missed. The pots and pans and maybe some cupcakes would have been more than I ever had before.”

Looking at the car: “I just wanted you to be happy.” as he squeezes your hand harder.

Putting a hand to his face to turn it to you: “And I am. Just being with someone I love on my birthday really is enough.”

With a sigh. “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m more than happy with everything I got before breakfast. I love cooking for you, making your favorite meals after a hard day’s work to make you happy. That to me is more special than any watch or pair of shoes. Let’s make some calls and see what we can return, does that sound good?”

Looking down, “What about the car?”

“Now hold on… maybe we could keep that. I think it’s a little weird for the number 2 hero driving an average family sedan. Why don’t you use this as your daily driver? Well, if you can fit in it.”

“I can, I tested it when I bought it. It’s really nice.” He says rubbing his chin in thought. “It would make a better impression than what I have now.”

“Plus, we can use it for when we want to go on trips just for us and the kids can use the sedan for their own use.”

“That does sound nice.”

Sitting down on the ground: “Come here, let’s lie down and watch the sky. I could use a little relaxation after all that craziness.” You say patting the grass next to you.

“I’m sorry if I stressed you.”

“You didn’t. Just relax with me for a while.”

You both lay down and hold hands. You both just watch the clouds go by as the day slowly turns to dusk. Throughout that time, you talked about the family, about the craziness of how Enji bought everything and brought it home. Finding out how much Enji had to do to make all of that happen makes you love him more, putting in so much effort for you. You both laughed at the thought of what to do with all that cake. When the sun finally set, you both went inside.

F: “Is everything ok? You were out there a long time.”

E: “Everything is fine, we discussed about today.”

S: “Something wrong?”

E: “We will be returning almost everything.”

N: “I knew it. He didn’t like any of it.”

(Y/N): “No, I appreciate all of it and I love that Enji put so much effort and time into this but I really don’t need all this stuff.”

N: “Even the car?”

(Y/N): “No, your father will be using it as his new car.”

N: “Can I use it every once in a while.” He says with a childish grin.

E: “No.”

(Y/N): “Hold on Enji, maybe we can discuss that on another day.”

N: “Really?”

E: “Don’t push it. Right now, let’s just pack everything up. I’ll arrange everything to be picked up tomorrow.”

After packing up, you ask for one last thing: a bath. He draws the bath and you both enjoy a nice soak. You tried something different and Enji rested his head on your chest this time. Even though your smaller than Enji, you manage to find a good position for both of you to be in. Running your fingers through his hair, he hums and rumbles in pleasure as you gently scratch and massage his scalp.

“I can see why you enjoy this so much; I could get used to this.”

“We can do this again in the future. It’s kind of nice giving the affection for once.” You say as one of your hands goes down to rub slow circles over the warm skin of his chest.

“I know the morning wasn’t the best but did your birthday finish better?”

You think for a moment still running your fingers through Enji’s hair. “I think it was perfect.” You say before kissing the top his head.

Next Chapter

[amphtaminedreams]

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

Hey to anyone reading!

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

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

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

1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)

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

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

2. Alexander McQueen

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

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

3. Brock Collection

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

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

4. Marc Jacobs

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

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

5. Miu Miu

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

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

6. Vera Wang

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

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

7. Burberry

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

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

8. Etro

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

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

9. Dolce & Gabbana

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

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

10. Gucci

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

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

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

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

Lauren x

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 5

...hey...how yall doing??

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x fem!Reader

Warnings: some angst, assault although slight it’s still there, be careful of the company you keep

Part 6

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sports festival came and went in flash, despite not being able to see as well as he would have liked. Aizawa was incredibly proud of his students, regardless of how unorthodox and rambunctious they all were. Heck, he even found a potential protégé from the general studies course that he couldn’t wait to tell-

Oh that’s right.

The extra key that was thrown at him weighs heavier in his pocket as Present Mic helps him walk away from the sound booth. It’d been two weeks since he’d last seen (Y/n) and heard from her. The man isn’t surprised, he did use all the stops to make her leave, break her in a way that only those close to her had the ability to. Did he mean all the words he had said to her? Hell no. He had been trying to put her first, something new and unfamiliar in his life, but the safety of his students and his job as an underground hero came first. And she knew that. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He’s doing his best to act like everything is okay, which isn’t hard for the stoic man to do. But those closest to him know how much he’s really hurting. Aizawa figured moving on to the sports festival was not only best for the school but for his students and the well being of others around him. He knew it would be a tough decision; placing the woman he loved more than anything behind his career and livelihood was a choice he never thought he had to make.

He didn’t even hesitate to put his own feelings aside for the good of everyone else. He didn’t hesitate to hurt the one person who fell into life and fit into it so easily; did it like it was nothing.

The tears he doesn’t shed are the most painful ones he feels within his heart. And that feeling will keep nicking at him until he does something or they fade away. He silently hopes for the latter.

**********

It was hard seeing him on every television. The U.A. sport festival was a sight sorely to be missed. (Y/n) knew that he taught class 1-A so it was nice to finally see them, but why couldn’t she had been there with him? Why couldn’t she have been there to support and celebrate his students like she wanted to do? Frustration evident on her face as she quickly turns the tv off in her apartment.

She hears a scoff behind her and remembers that Kona decided to help around the shop that day. “Hun, staring holes into the tv isn’t gonna let him know you’re angry.” She hmphs at her friend and abruptly turns off the screen.

“You’re lucky I invited you up here.”

“I wasn’t gonna let you sit and mope around forever. Not when I know we need to talk about a certain someone who’s been visiting the store almost once a week.”

“Can we not talk about him as I just saw my ex on television?”

Kona laughs and shakes his head, “I mean, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone so…” He eyes his superior smugly, knowing full well that she has considered it. A throw pillow catches his face by surprise as he now tastes cloth and velvet on his tongue. Kona growls at (Y/n) and flicks her off as he moves to her kitchen.

He hears her sigh from the couch as she sinks lower into the cushions. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it… It’s just,” she pauses as her eyes begin to sting with threatening tears, “Shit.”

Warm tears are falling freely down her face as the hurt settles in again. “Fuck, I’m sorry for crying again,” she feels Kona hug her awkwardly from behind the couch and hears him shush and coo her. It’s hard for him to not want to cry too when he feels the sobs shake her body.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You’re hurt, and that’s not okay with me. I honestly didn’t think he would be there…” He trails off trying to gauge her emotional state at the moment. “Fuck, (Y/n) I had no idea you loved him that much, sweetie.”

She merely nods, knowing that’s all she can do at the moment.

“Hey,” he whispers, “why don’t I take some of the load off of you for the next couple of weeks?”

She turns quickly to face him, shock and awe in her eyes. “No Koko you can’t. I’ve got to work here and at the bar and-“

“And I don’t give a shit.” He snapped out that last part to notate his seriousness.  “You’ve worked harder than anyone I know.

“Take a break.”

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

Hizashi Yamada does his best to not show his true and underlying emotions. He’s done his best to keep up his loud persona around his best friend in order to have some sort of normalcy. He knows normalcy won’t ever happen again, not with all the villain attacks and personal life issues that keep showing up. Hizashi can see in those dark pits Aizawa calls eyes that he isn’t okay.

But now that he sees him on television with their principal trying to keep the peace about one of his own students getting kidnapped, it’s more than obvious shit has hit the fan.

The blond knows all too well that his friend won’t open up about his choice to be alone. The choice he made months ago that has affected almost every aspect of his life but won’t readily admit it. Sure, his hero work, teaching, and side lessons with Shinso have been going exceptionally well but he’s not the same man he was a year ago. Hell, even five months ago.

Present Mic is fully aware that the kidnapping of one of his students broke him. Correction, it broke him down further. For his years of teaching experience, Aizawa has never had a student kidnapped and taken from a school sanctioned event, never had to apologize for it on national television, and then going to each students’ home to apologize and ask more of them. His best friend is stressed out, without anyone to go to that isn’t enamored in his world or another hero.

Moving into the mandated school dorms was just another nail into the rickety and unstable mind that was Aizawa Shouta. He’ll never admit to it, but having all these changes happen in such a short time is taking a toll on him. The bags under his eyes have somehow become darker and more bruised. Hizashi isn’t sure of the last time his friend had shaved or properly slept, considering he did what he does best.

The overly tired man throws himself into his job, his students, and his hero work. To anyone on the outside he was back to himself, giving 110%, doing the most for the best outcome and doing it all with his signature stoic face. And he’ll push. He will push and push farther deep into his heart and soul the feelings he wants kept.

That he loves her, that he misses her, that he fucked up… But he will always do what’s right and what’s best for those around him.

When it came time for another break from the norm, Aizawa’s students along with the other first years of U.A., were set to go get ready for their provisional licenses. Even when he ran into Ms. Joke, usually he’d play into their “will they or won’t they” dating banter but couldn’t find it in himself to do it fully. He wanted to focus on his class’s success, fathoming their struggles thus far and understanding how important this all is to them.

He doesn’t mention how he had wanted to do this with (Y/n) but blows that thought away.

It’s for her safety, he thinks, it’s for her safety.

Hizashi knows that Aizawa misses (Y/n) and what she brought to his life without him knowing the full affects of it. He frowns, something rare to occur, as he thinks over the events of the last month or so. Now he’s really hoping that she’ll come back or that Shouta will come to his senses before things take a drastic turn.

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

“Kai, I can’t thank you enough for helping me out and being here. I know you’re not the biggest fan of crowds.”

(Y/n) had been suddenly called to bartend a private party one night, which is not her usual sctick. However when she realized she was called for by name, her mind reeled at who could’ve done this and filled with panic at the thought it might be another stalker. But when she had finished preparing the bar and was met with yellow golden eyes, her mind calmed.

“It’s not just crowds, it’s touching people and their quirks. I know you understand.”

She gives the man a hearty smile as she prepares sets of drinks for his cohorts. The addition of the plague mask was new to her as he had always worn a regular mask upon entering her store. Regardless of that weird nuance about him, (Y/n) continued her duties as a bartender and caregiver. The young woman doesn’t normally close because of her pulling double duty, but when her manager mentioned the extra money in this who was she to say no?

Keeping up with Kai throughout the night kept her sane, despite the strange aura his posse or gang or whatever gave her. She figured it was better to not use her quirk based on the company Kai keeps as a way to save her soul. Kona’s words are still fresh in her mind, despite them being from months ago. Sure, she’s considered Kai Chisaki as a possible rebound, but she didn’t want to hurt someone or be hurt in return. Besides, he told her about Eri, he helped her with both of her business money wise, and was kind; she’s not going to acknowledge the eeriness of personality that she couldn’t get a grip on.

The night presses on and the private party starts to wind down. “Alright friends, it’s 1:45 meaning it is now last call for drinks! Get them before I decide for you and the club closes.” Hoots and hollers are heard after her words which cause her to giggle at their antics. Unbeknownst to her, light gold eyes don’t leave her body. His glove clad hands pick at the fabric of his jacket and gloves as his mind wanders. He knows this woman keeps Eri happy, and if Eri is happy he gets what he wants. He also knows that this club has a back alley that is hidden from most prying eyes and knowing this woman is just a bonus.

Does he have feelings for her? No, he just knows that she is a good pawn in his plan. Which makes things harder as the night comes to an end.

Chisaki takes his mob at the end of the night and leaves the club. They head out to the back where they are meeting a client to exchange a new batch of quirk enhancing blood bullet and quirk eliminating, or balancing in his opinion. He’s proud of this particular batch, Eri was most responsive and useful all because she had some of her favorite books from her favorite person.

It also didn’t hurt that she was more obedient after their run in with some new and upcoming heroes.

The brunet hates waiting. He thinks of ending his clients life as the minutes tick by in the dark of night. His thoughts rub rampant as his impatience grows by the second. He’s suddenly nudged on the shoulder by Hari Kuruno, his only trusted friend, who alerts Kai of the incoming company. The deal goes without a hitch until Kai speaks up.

“You kept me waiting longer than I would’ve liked. A balance must be put in place.”

He then walks up to one of the client’s underlings, and uses his quirk on them. Blood splatters everywhere as his eyes are unchanging and intense. The whole scene is gruesome but Chisaki rationalizes that it is necessary to establish order and punishment.

However, in the midst of that he was unable to hear the back door of the club open and close.

A shrill and disgusted scream is heard by him and his men and they immediately turn toward the source. Golden eyes narrow at the interruption and scowls, if they could be seen, adorned the faces of his cohorts. He can see that the woman he had been keeping tabs on is shaking and conflicted. She’s seen everything, the exchange, the blatant murder; there’s even some blood on her cheeks.

“Chronostasis.”

All he had to do was say that name and (Y/n) suddenly felt immobile and deathly sick. What the fuck did she just see? There’s no way he’s a terrible person, no way… But she can’t deny what she saw. Her eyes dart left to right as she sees and feels no means of escape. A cold gloved hand grips her cheeks and forces her to look at the man who currently holds her fate.

“I, I won’t say anything I swear, just please let me go Kai!”

“That’s Overhaul to you.” He doesn’t even flinch or react to her crying or her huffing, as he continues to hold her face.

“I guess you’ll get your wish, you will be able to see Eri again.”

Darkness envelopes the young woman as she loses consciousness and her body is taken to an undisclosed location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @kiribaku-queen @cupcake-rogue @shinsouskitten @prk-pyo @therealwalmartjesus -taglist is open-

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 10

    David Bowie concert in the last week was the best day Scarlett had in a while. Severus has offered her to have dinner in London before the concert and she has gladly accepted it. Before they left Hogwarts, Carina has insisted to take a photo of them because they have worn matching outfits without talking to each other and in Carina’s opinion they looked so cool. Her mother was wearing a long black tule skirt with a black jacket combined with a leather beret and long leather boots, her red hair was curled and her makeup was just a simple red lipstick and black smoky eyes. Professor Snape was wearing black trousers and a black turtleneck with a long leather jacket and he has put his hair in a messy bun. Carina has never seen him like that before but she was quite impressed by it. Then Severus and Scarlett apparated to London and their first destination was an Italian restaurant they used to go a lot. After having their dinner, they arrived at the concert hall. Severus has bought front row tickets and Scarlett couldn’t be happier. The moment David Bowie came up to stage, Severus realized Scarlett still didn’t have any self-control for Bowie but he was happy since Scarlett was having time of her life and actually losing herself in the moment and thinking nothing else but the music. After the concert they had a walk around the area and Scarlett insisted to treat Severus with a dessert as a thank you gift when she saw an open patisserie after the midnight. Severus had no choice but to accept it because Scarlett couldn’t take her eyes off the glass where they were showing the desserts. It was such a fun and needed night for both of them in the end of the day.

    This week would be Scarlett’s moving week; she was ready to move into her old house after living with Carina at Hogwarts for over a month by now. Carina wasn't willing to let her go yet but Scarlett needed her own place and privacy since she always loved to be alone, also she didn’t want to be a burden for Carina anymore. Furthermore she wasn't feeling much depressed anymore so she was trusting herself about not doing stupid things like over drinking or trying to kill herself...

    Scarlett has left their family house to Sirius even though she loved it so much but the last memories she had there erased all the good memories that the house held over the years. So she was moving the house that her parents bought her as a graduation present when she was 18. It was a Victorian style small duplex house with light blue and white exterior. The house had a small front garden where she has planted nothing else but roses. Scarlett has lived here with Severus for a year and with Sirius for 2 years until they got married. The house was already furnished, and she wasn't planning to change it at all except the bedroom. Also she has gotten her personal stuff from the family house and needed to place them too.

    Leo and Scarlett have gone to shopping for bedroom in weekdays and today; Saturday, Carina joined them too to decorate the house. Scarlett was decorating the bedroom all over again while Carina was taking care of the kitchen and Leo was emptying the boxes which Scarlett brought from the family house in the living room. Then he found a rather big, fancy trunk; It was emerald green and there was a snake wrapped around a rose design carved on the centre of the lid. Leo has never seen it in his life before but since his mum brought it here it must have been important to her. He couldn't help but wonder what was in it so he tried to open but it was locked as he has suspected.

"Carina, come here for a sec." he called out for his twin.

"Yes?" She walked into the living room and she saw the trunk in front of Leo. "What's that?" She questioned curiously, it was such a pretty looking thing.

"I was hoping you would know..."

She sat down the floor next to him and examined  the trunk. "That carving looks familiar to me but i dunno from where..."

"Alohomora." Leo whispered suddenly but the spell didn't work on the emerald trunk. "Well, now i am even more curious..."

"Leo! Maybe she has very personal things in it. We can simply ask her and not try to open it secretly."

"We've never seen it and it's locked with a strong charm apparently. Do you really think that mum will "simply" say what's inside the trunk?"

"Then maybe we shouldn't unlock it! What she could possibly put inside it, anyways?"

"That's the point. Don't you wonder what's mum hiding!?"

"Maybe i do, a little..."

"Do you have any idea about where the key is?"

Carina thought for a while. "You know she keeps the bank vaults’ keys and some other important ones in the same keychain. Maybe it is also there?"

"I think the keychain is still in her bag because we went to Gringotts yesterday. So the plan is you will go upstairs to distract mum from coming down here and i will try the keys on the lock. She has left the bag in the doorway."

"Okay fine but if you can manage to unlock it, call me for help or something and i will come to see. But don’t be suspicious."

"Okay, let the mission begin!"

Carina made her way to the upstairs when Leo went to the doorway to check the bag. It wasn't hard to find the keys in the bag. There were 5 keys in the keychain; 2 of them were for the bank, 1 was for her own vault which she keeps in the house that Leo knew. So there was 2 other keys left. Leo tried to first one but it didn't even fit the lock. The last one was smaller than the previous one, he still kept his hopes high and tried the last possible key. And then he heard the click when he put it inside the lock. He carefully turned it and the trunk unlocked itself. Leo snickered to himself and opened it slowly. There were many kinds of things in the trunk but the big purple photo album with velvet cover caught his eyes the most. He took it out carefully, he was trying not to move anything in the trunk that she could notice later, then before took a look inside the album he called his twin as he promised. Carina came down running excitedly after couple of seconds.

"Mum is not coming anytime soon, she is so lost with the clothes right now." She whispered and sat next to him.

"There are so many things in it! It is like a memory box but bigger version. Probably the presents dad got her when they were dating or such because there are some jewellery boxes." Then he showed the photo album he took out. "Are you ready to take a look inside?"

She was looking unsure and having second thoughts. "I don't feel very comfortable about doing this behind her back to be honest..."

"Oh c'mon Carina, we made it this far and i saw how excited you were while coming here! Some mischievousness won't hurt anyone, be daddy's girl for once!"

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Fine fine, open it!"

"NO WAY!"

"Is this...?"

"YES! MERLIN’S BEARD!"

"Be quiet Leo!" Carina slapped his arm.

They looked through the photos in silence and shock for a while until Carina broke it.

"I have told you that there is something between them, i felt it from the very first moment I saw them in the same room!"

"You did but i wasn't expecting THAT. Some big love is happening here! Professor Snape and mum… I would never imagine this pair in my wildest dreams, bloody hell!"

"I wonder why she never mentioned it before, we talked about relationships countless of times and she was like dad was the first and the last. Mum literally acted like she doesn't know Professor Snape for years!"

"Maybe the breakup wasn't smooth. But I remember whenever you talked about Professor Snape which you did frequently; dad was always annoyed and mum was avoiding talking. I bet there is some drama here. " Leo put the photo album back in the trunk. "I am locking it, this shock is enough for today and apparently it is very personal..."

She nodded. "I will learn their story soon."

"How will you do that exactly?"

"Leave the job to the professional and don't worry about the rest." A mischievous smirk appeared on Carina’s lips.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff. 

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget. 

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement. 

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier. 

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs. 

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child. 

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands. 

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother. 

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement. 

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment. 

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd. 

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over. 

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

 He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “ 

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “ 

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.” 

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “ 

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “ 

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “ 

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie. 

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place. 

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors. 

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper. 

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “ 

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “ 

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous. 

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds. 

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls. 

“ Millennium Falcon playset.” 

“ You and a million other little boys. “ 

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face. 

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street.  “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity. 

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 17 (Mafia AU)

Summary: While Rus is off learning to dance and getting into trouble, his brother is worrying about him and Blue is about to find some unexpected trouble of his own.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning:  Heads up, let me add a warning here for attempted sexual assault and violence.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

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Read Chapter 17 on AO3

or

Read it here!

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Blue could hardly say that he trusted Red, but he did believe he’d keep his word. He had to, what other option did he have. If Red were lying to him, then he might as well never have come here; he and his brother could have fled the city entirely, abandoned their home and their shop, and taken their chances with the Human world outside the city.

The mercy of unknown humans might be kinder than the Fell brothers, but it wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. Not yet.

For now, he was forced to rely on Red’s uncertain promise to return his brother to him yet again. He obediently went back to their rooms to wait and wait he did, his earlier anxiety returning as he paced the room, counting his steps distractedly, fifteen across, fifteen back, and nothing changed. Another hour ticked slowly by and there was still no sign of his little brother, no word from Red or the Dogs, or even, Angel forbid, from Edge.

His own troublesome thoughts refused to be silent. What if Papy had gotten into some trouble? What if he were hurt, what if, what, if, if, if. If he were hurt, Red might very well try to cover it up, mightn’t he, keeping the truth from Blue in order to keep him growing those illicit, rare golden flowers.

The very idea of his little brother hidden away somewhere in this building, frightened and hurt, perhaps calling out for him, was too much for Blue to bear. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Cautiously, he opened the door, but the Dog that had been there earlier was still gone, off searching for his brother, Blue hoped. The long hallways were empty and while he knew there were discreet cameras in the corners and hidden behind the awful artwork, if he was quick, he might be able to get where he was going before anyone was around to stop him.

Red said that Papy went downstairs earlier, down to the club, and that was where Blue was headed. He knew how to get there; his mental map was clear and far easier to follow than the winding paths they’d been shown before would lead anyone to believe.

With bravado that didn’t match the tremor in his soul, Blue boldly walked down the hallway, turning the corner and heading directly to the stairwell door as he tried to act as if he belonged here.

Not that he ever could.

No alarm rose, no sharp cry telling him to stop or halt. The door was locked, but he’d watched Dogamy put in the code earlier and it worked on the first try, the door hissing softly as it swung open.

The stairwell was darkened and stark, all metal railings and grate steps, the industrial appearance nothing at all like the luxurious rooms that led to it. His footsteps echoed with every step Blue took, wincingly loud, and as he came to the bottom landing, he could hear the heavy thrum of music, muffled as it came through the walls.

When he opened the door at the bottom, that music flooded in like an assault on the senses. The hallway was dimly lit, the overhead bulbs a deep and garish crimson as if to paint the rooms themselves as scarlet as their reputation. It was difficult to see anything, and Blue floundered, directionless, until he finally decided to simply follow the music. He paused at every doorway he came across, peering behind gauzy curtains and doors, his pale eye lights skimming over empty sofas and scantily-clad ladies sitting in front of mirrors rimmed with lights where they painted on their makeup. Hiding their true faces from those they danced for, surely the sort of horrid people who was more interested in the various body parts barely hidden beneath their pretty lingerie than the soul they were attached to.

Blue knew about that sort of person all too well, and he shuddered, letting yet another curtain fall closed as he made his way further down the hallway. The music was achingly loud now, rattling in his skull, and he barely heard the voice above his head before he nearly walked into its owner.

“Well, now, where have they been hiding you.”

Blue looked up, up, to see a Human looking down at him. He didn’t look like the sort of patron someone might expect in a place like this, but then, they never did. Brown hair, brown eye ordinary, sporting a cheap suit that he’d likely worn to the office that day where he worked as an accountant or an office manager or in the marketing department. His suit was rumpled, the tie loosened either by himself or by an enterprising one of the ladies who was bartering for an extra tip. A quick glance down the hallway showed a muted neon sign glowing ‘restrooms’ above a set of doors; someone had taken a wrong turn and why on earth wasn’t there a bouncer around to keep such a thing from happened…unless they’d been called away and Blue tried not to think of why, not because of his brother, please, no.

“I beg your pardon,” Blue said stiffly. He tried to walk past the man, but a rough hand caught his shoulder, fingers digging painfully into his fragile collarbone, holding him back.

The Human leaned over far too close, his voice slurring out over the pulsing music, “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you.” He licked his teeth, his breath foul with alcohol. “Haven’t seen you out on stage yet.”

On stage? The delicate satiny material of his shirt with its froth of lace at the sleeve cuffs might qualify as pretty, but Blue was hardly dressed as a dancer. Either this drunkard couldn’t see that, or he simply assumed that any Monster here was one who might take off their clothes at any given moment to show the toy surprises inside.

“I’m not a dancer,” Blue snapped, trying to pull away, “let me go!”

But he didn’t, his grip slid painfully down to Blue’s upper arm, his foul-breathed smile twisting, trying to form into something coaxing. “Come on, darlin’, I got a twenty-dollar bill that isn’t working too hard, could be yours.”

Disgusting and cheap, what a horrid combination. Nausea lurched up unpleasantly, leaving sour taste in the back of Blue’s mouth.

“I’m not for sale!” Blue snarled, even as a tiny piece of his soul snickered darkly, wondering if it was even true. Not for sale here, but upstairs in the garish wealth that lay behind closed doors, what about there, what about when faced with Red’s endless grins.

Then his breath left him as he was shoved hard against the wall and any sort of humor fled, real fear blooming. This couldn’t happen, he wasn’t about to let this horrible person molest him and he knew well how to defend himself, an attack already trembling at his fingertips, but a Monster using magic on a Human could have terrible repercussions, not only for him, but the entire community. Would the police believe him if this man went bleating to them that he’d been attacked? Or would they take one look at the address and think that whatever this horrible man intended, that Blue had it coming.

“Stop!” Blue shouted, trying to be heard over the thrumming music. There were other people close by, there was some safety in numbers but before he could cry out again the harsh blow of a fist caught him dead in the face, snapping his head back and thudding his head against the wall behind him. Blue sagged in dazed surprise, the sudden ringing in his skull coalescing into a high-pitched whine that drown out any other sound. He blinked dumbly, his vision swarmed with darkness and only distantly felt a rough hand worming under his shirt to fondle his ribcage, the hot, foul blurts of breath against his face as a heavy weight pressed him harder against the wall and—

Before his mind could clear, that suffocating weight was suddenly torn away, letting him gasp in clear, deep breaths of uncomplicated air.

Blue didn’t move, using the wall at his back to stay upright as he blinked uncomprehendingly at the scene unfolding before him.

There was a Dog is crouched close by on all fours, the coarse fur along the back of their neck raised and their eyes reddened in anger, jagged teeth bared in a vicious snarl, but the Human was already on his knees, twin ribbons of thin blood running from both nostrils as he whined and cringed away from the opposite wall.

From that shadowy corner came a triple glow of crimson, revealed as a pair of eye lights and the glowing tip of a cigar as Red stepped from them. For all that his height was barely above Blue’s, somehow he seemed to loom over the whimpering Human, his bulk nearly blocking them from view. Red took a long puff from his cigar, blowing out a cloud of pale smoke. More smoke trickled from his sockets and it made the crimson of his eye lights seem to burn hotter than embers.

“c’mon, pal, up you get.” Red grabbed the front of the Human’s shirt and hauled him to sit upright. He reached down to dust off the front of his suit jacket with mocking solicitude, his cigar leaving a trail of ash on the cheap polyester.

The Human made a weak sound of protest, but he didn’t try to flee, only stared at Red, his eyes rounded marbles and his hands fisting against the tile floor, a paper tiger in the face of an actual beast.

"chum, i’m kinda thinkin' you didn't read the rules of admission," Red grinned, and standing over the cowering man in his cheap suit, eye lights blazing coals that shifted and flickered in his sockets and his teeth a hungry grin, he looked like the Human’s devil himself. He crouched down and wiped away the blood trickling down from the Human's nose, rubbing his thumb and forefinger idly together as if testing the consistency. "rule is, keep ya hands to yerself. you get me?" He patted the Human's cheek, his sharp fingertips scraping lightly and leaving reddened trails behind. "cause when you touch what’s mind, means i get to touch you back, capiche?”

The Human nodded frantically, his head wobbling on his neck, a dandelion tottering in the wind from an incoming storm.

“yeah, you understand,” Red crooned. His fingertips curled and the Human choked on a cry as they dug into his cheek, leaving four tiny, even puncture wounds to spill bloody streaks downward, dark rivulets in the dim light. "think you've already got a debt more’n you're worth.” Red stepped back and wiped his hand carelessly on his own fine jacket, the bloody smears hidden in the dark fabric. He nodded curtly to the Dog, gesturing sharply, “help him find his way out.”

The Dog let out a low bark that rumbled downward into a growl as they caught the sobbing Human under the arms and hauled him to his feet, shoved him stumbling away, clutching at his bloodied cheek.

Red rolled his cigar to the other side of his mouth and shook his head with a deep sigh before turning to Blue, that fiery glare landing on him. “as for you—"

Before he could say another word, Blue burst into helpless tears, heaving out a sob as he buried his hot, stinging face into his hands. Humiliating as it was, he could have no more held back those tears than he could a flood, the broken dam of his control letting loose in a gushing torrent. He slid weakly down the wall, replacing his hands with his updrawn knees as he choked on the wails that threatened to escape along with his tears, weeping out all the swelling pain and fear of the past week in a glut of sobs.

He didn’t even flinch from the awkward hand that settled on his shoulder, tentatively squeezing, “aw, c’mon, don’t do that.”

Blue only cried harder, his breath coming in hiccoughing gasps. He was exhausted, he’d spent so much magic today, he was sickened with worry for his brother, their lives were collapsing around them, and the feel of grubby Human hands still felt painted across his ribs, muddled fingerprints left behind on his bones. He couldn’t seem to stop crying, sobs hitching out of him until thick nausea was rising up from his soul, his abused magic curdling within him as he wept, almost lost in the ecstasy of his grief.

Distantly, he heard a rough sigh and he couldn’t even cringe from the hands upon him, gently urging him out of his fetal curl, “okay, c’mere, come on, baby blue.”

All his will had abandoned him, all his rebellious nature, and Blue only allowed Red to pull him close into a rough embrace, rubbing his back soothingly, if a little awkwardly.

Eventually, he ran out of tears, all his fears and pains as exhausted as the rest of him. His throat ached, a match to his face, and all he could do was lean into the unexpected comfort of the strong arms around him. Beneath his face, the front of Red’s shirt was darkened and soaked.

“you okay?” Warily said, as if Red was afraid speaking would set Blue off again into gales of renewed weeping and Blue nearly let out a hysterical giggle, only barely swallowing it back.

“Yes,” Blue managed. A horrible headache was looming, from crying surely and from that Human’s fist, and still he didn’t move from Red’s arms. How strange, he thought tiredly, that they were sitting here in the middle of a hallway in the back rooms of a strip club, the loud industrial music still throbbing around them with the occasional loud interruption from the DJ making their announcements, and yet, somehow Blue felt safe, as safe as he’d felt since the morning he’d arrived at their shop to find his brother’s favorite mug shattered on the stoop.

He drew away, looking up at Red…who looked back warily, perhaps still worried that he might burst out crying again. He didn’t seem to care that they were both sitting on the filthy floor or that Blue had covered his fine shirtfront with all the fluids that came with a feverish crying jag. Other people walked past them, their curious gazes sliding over and past Red’s broad back as his bulk curled around Blue, shielding him from the rest of the club. From the world.

It was only then that Blue saw one of Red’s sockets was blackened and swollen, the lid half-closed. He gasped aloud, reaching out, his fingers hovering anxiously over the bruised bone, "What happened?"

"eh,” Red’s sharky grin curled up on one side. “my bro doesn't value my opinion on certain subjects.”

"Your brother hit you?” Blue asked, horrified. He couldn’t imagine raising a hand to his brother, no matter how frustratingly angry Papy could make him.

“heh, don’t be too mad at him, baby blue,” Red chuffed out a rough laugh, “bro keeps his temper on a tight rein, but i can always get him to lose his grip. must be my charm.”

Having borne the burden of Red’s ‘charm’ himself a time or two, that at least Blue could understand. “I can imagine. Here-" He reached out and Red flinched back, startled. "Let me heal you."

"don't think so, baby blue.” He’d lost his cigar somewhere in the midst of Blue’s storm of weeping and started patting at his pockets in search of another, “it'll heal on its own.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Blue said firmly, still trying to reach out. He was quick, but Red proved to be quicker, somehow keeping out of reach without ever letting Blue go. Blue huffed out a frustrated breath. “I can help!”

“honey, you need to save your magic for yourself.” Red cupped the side of Blue’s face in his palm, his fingers still tinged bloody, and pressed a thumb lightly to Blue’s cheekbone. Pain flared and he flinched, imagining the ugly bruise that must be rising. It was true, his own magic was hardly recovered from all the gardening earlier in the day, both the rows of golden flowers and his time on the roof. If he healed Red, he likely wouldn’t be able to take care of his own wounds. But as he’d told Red before, he paid his debts, and their current arrangement was certainly putting him into the red, literally.

“I want to help you,” Blue said stubbornly.

“heh, that’s a first.” Red gave up on finding a cigar, his smirk twisting, “okay, sweetheart, go on.”

Cautiously, Blue settled his hand over Red’s socket, ignoring the way Red’s fingers circled his slim wrist like a cuff, holding on. He called up his magic, guiding it with his Intent and a soft green glow formed in his palm. The magic twining briefly around his fingers, playfully following the path down to Red’s gripping fingers, before obeying Blue silent command and sinking into the damaged bone. Immediately the swelling began to fade, the darkened bone lightening again to ivory.

Red’s half-hooded gaze opened wider, staring at Blue through the cage of his fingers until Blue tried to draw away.

Even then, Red’s grip loosened slowly, his fingertips lightly scraping the delicate bones of Blue’s wrist as he pulled free. “listen,” Red said, slowly, “i was lookin for ya to tell ya, your little bro is fine, he’s with mine right now. i’ll get him brought back to your room, toot sweet.”

Papy was fine. Blue closed his sockets briefly, tasting the ashes of shame; he’d forgotten his own brother was missing, forgotten his worries and fears in this moment of paying back a debt.

There wasn’t time to wallow in his shame. Red rolled to his feet with a grunt, finally locating another cigar. He lit it with a flick of his thumb against a wooden match, puffing on it hard for a long moment before saying around it, “c’mon, i’ll take ya to your room.”

Without another word, Red started walking, his bulk clearing a path while Blue trotted along behind him. He tucked in his shirt as they went, straightening his clothes, and hyperaware of the gaze of those they passed. Gossip was surely already flying and what did it matter, anyway? His reputation was never going to survive being within these walls, the best he could’ve hoped for was the narrative labeling him a whore. Better that than the alternative, that people would think he was in business with the Fell brothers. Better than them knowing the truth.

Instead of the stairs, Red led the way to an elevator. It was small enough that he was forced to lean against Red, but that was all right. Tomorrow was soon enough to remind himself of Red’s variety of sins.

Another Dog greeted them as the elevator doors opened, falling into step behind them. They positioned themselves by his door as Red paused in front of it, insurance against Blue wandering off again, he shouldn’t wonder.

He found he didn’t mind it, at least not right now.

“go to bed,” Red ordered through a cloud of foul-smelling smoke. “your bro will be back soon.”

Blue turned, for once willing to be obedient, then he paused and turned back. “Thank you,” Blue said with quiet sincerity and it was not only for the return of his brother.

“ain’t a problem, baby bl—"

Red broke off as Blue rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to Red’s freshly healed cheek bone, a gentle, lingering touch. Behind him came a bemused sound from the Dog, and when he drew back Red was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his broad face.

Blue ducked his head, breaking that stare as he whirled towards the door, fumbling it open and darting inside. He leaned against it and worked at evening out his shattered breathing. He needed to take a shower and get changed, needed to clean away the past few hours, and he would in just a moment. He would.

His brother would be back soon, that was all that mattered, and Blue didn’t want to think any more about the cost.

~~*~~

tbc

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chatper 8: Boundaries

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 8: Boundaries

Ronodin hadn’t returned, and said that he wouldn’t until tonight. Kendra had another day to whittle away. She read more in her book on the Fair Folk over breakfast, then sat in front of her crafting materials again.

Kendra had no idea if her medallion even worked, but at least it dried nicely. The wooden texture came through the paint, but that made it look functional. Like, hey, this is a wooden medallion meant to weaken my enemies, not be a high school shop class project.

Did she take woodshop class? Did she ever go to high school? From Ronodin’s story, Kendra probably had tutors. Why did she feel like she knew more about the American public school system than she did about monster hunting? Or even tutoring schedules?

Trying to figure out her past by evaluating what bodies of knowledge she possessed and what she didn’t left her with a headache.

Kendra refocused on the fabrics in front of her. She did okay with the medallion, maybe her body had remembered something her brain didn’t. Hopefully that subconscious knowledge would help her do what she wanted to make next: create a jacket.

Ronodin assured her that the clothes in her wardrobe were all hers, taken and given to Ronodin from her own closet for exactly this time. Pieces her family didn’t approve of and wouldn’t know to find missing. But old Kendra’s clothes…left a bit more exposed than she liked. Aside from also being mostly black and red, and she was really growing tired of those colors, the dresses were low cut at the top, and high cut around the thighs.

She looked sexy in them, but with Ronodin continuing to ‘forget’ that she had only met him two days ago, sexy wasn’t the look she wanted to wear. She’d start with a simple cardigan, covering up her shoulders and back, then see what she could do about altering hemlines.

Looking over the fabrics, she wished she had pink. She thought she liked the color. Pink wasn’t among the fabric options. There was more red and black, and white, silver, dark blue, green, orange, and dark purple.

Because it would clash horribly with the red and the black, she selected the pumpkin orange fabric. If she was enough of an eyesore, maybe she could convince Ronodin that they needed to pop into a shopping mall for a real wardrobe. Something she was comfortable with now. The orange fabric was a wool/giant hair blend, dyed with pigment from the Fala plant, that produced its own distractor spell to convince people that it was dead until they forgot what they were looking for.

Sewing was a lot harder than she thought, especially without a sewing machine. Did she do this by hand the first time? The needle felt so awkward, her stitches were uneven, she was approximating the designs in the book, but some of them had her folding fabric before cutting? What did it mean by grain? She tried to incorporate ‘make me look hideous!’ magic intentions as she sewed, imaging Ronodin cringing away from her, refusing to look at her in it, but it was a little hard when most of her focus went to not pricking herself.

Still, she wasn’t a quitter. Kendra had to undo a seam, because apparently clothes were assembled inside out, but by referencing the book every few minutes, and working through hand cramps, she managed to at least make the pieces stick together.

It was early afternoon when Kendra finished her uneven hems. Some of the tools in the basket might have helped her, but her books didn’t reference any of them, so she left them alone.

Holding up the final product, Kendra giggled. She’d done everything on larger estimates, figuring that her goal was to be covered and folds in fabric were easier to have than one side not fitting, and cutting down was easier than adding. The result could generously be described as an orange tent. Kendra had to see herself in the monstrosity. She rushed to the bathroom, passing Mendigo in the hall, and positioned herself in front of the mirror.

She slung on the cardigan over the black lace dress, and cracked up.

“Hi Ronodin!” Kendra waved to the mirror with both hands, one sleeve reaching halfway up her palm the other so wide it fell back against her elbow at the motion. The ruby necklace looked like it was suffering, trying to hide from her attempts at sewing.

“Oh, er Kendra, I see you tried sewing,” Kendra mocked in the mirror with a low voice.

Kendra twirled, then did an impression of herself with a higher pitch than normal, “I did, do you like it? I love it! I put soo much effort into it! I love the pumpkin look, don’t you?”

She imagined Ronodin’s face, the horror, the strain not to insult his girlfriend, and burst out laughing. Kendra couldn’t wait to see his face for real. She would insist on wearing this until he took her to the mall.

Kendra stopped laughing and frowned at her reflection. That really didn’t seem right. Even if she had arranged all of this herself, why would she arrange a hideout she couldn’t ever leave? If old Kendra had wanted to live a free life with Ronodin, why didn’t she pick a hide away that let her go outside? Her family couldn’t be powerful enough to search the whole world. If she had been able to pick anywhere, a remote island seemed like a much better hiding place than where she was.

Maybe she and Ronodin had had a disagreement over how long she should stay underground. He might be capitalizing on her memory loss to keep her extra safe; it’s possible Kendra had never intended for herself to remain sealed away. That seemed like something Ronodin would do. Slip in a little lie amongst the truths to save himself battles.

Well, wherever they were, Kendra wanted out. Now that she wasn’t dressed for a cocktail party, she would find her way to a window at least. She went back to her room, and decided to arm herself with the bow she had brought with her through the barrel, even though she didn’t have any arrows. She hadn’t had anything else on her, so she slipped on her shoes and went to the door that Ronodin usually walked out of.

She turned the heavy knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. Jiggled it some more, but didn’t move. She searched everywhere for a key, but couldn’t find on. What kind of front door could be locked from the outside?

“Mendigo?” Kendra called, and her puppet came forward. “Open this door.”

Kendra stepped to the side as Mendigo started straining his wooden hands at the door. He turned back to her and shrugged, showing his wooden fingers. Duh, no way could he get the grip he needed that way.

Should she order him to break down the door? These rooms were rented to them by their mysterious ‘host’, who apparently had Ronodin working like a slave. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her busting his door down. She decided against it until things looked more dire.

The last hasty, destructive action she had ordered had almost killed her fiancé. She would demand a key from Ronodin when he got back before resorting to property damage.

“Thank you Mendigo,” Kendra said, “Let’s see what else there is in this place.” Putting her hand on the wall to the left of the door, Kendra started walking, never lifting it. She discovered three different storage closets: one for cleaning supplies, one empty, one for linens. Kitchen, Ronodin’s bedroom (extremely frugal, disappointingly empty) (he had a couple of robes Kendra considered using to augment her own wardrobe, but decided that would send the wrong message), Library, bathroom, craft room, Kendra’s room, Kendra’s bathroom, Kendra’s closet, sitting room/front room, and back to the main door.

That was it. The entirety of her existence, done up in blacks, reds, and gray stone and drenched in blue firelight. Some of the carpets had cream accents, but that was it.

Kendra knew what kind of front door locked from the outside.

She wandered back to her craft room and picked up a canvas to draw. This was about passing time. Next time she wouldn’t let Ronodin leave without her. Kendra just needed to stay sane until he got back. Even if practicing her magic with nicer emotions would create a less effective item, she wanted something nice to look at. Something peaceful. An outdoor scene, and she’d try to work peace into it. It was for herself anyway, and she’d do it in blue and green and white, and it would look beautiful.

Unfortunately, Kendra couldn’t visualize what ‘outside’ looked like. She knew the sky was blue, it had a sun, and grass was green and flowers came in all colors, but the pieces wouldn’t put themselves together. Kendra had never seen ‘outside’, she had nothing but rote facts. She put her pencil to canvas anyway, figuring that if she drew the pieces, it would all come together eventually.

Her hand refused to move. It had no direction on what to draw. Were horizons bumpy or straight? What color blue was the sky? What did sun look like on plant leaves?

Glaring, Kendra started sketching her craft table, in front of her, with the wall behind it turning into prison bars. She’d seen those in her mad-dash self-kidnapping.

Sketching came easier than sewing or carving. Maybe because more art principals were known by the public, the curse wasn’t able to remove them as personal memories. It was nice to have something come together, even if it was only a picture of her cell.

When she got to painting, she ignored the descriptions of materials and focused on colors. Easier than before, she took threads of magic, threads of the flame from the candle inside her, into her hand and turned them to her own emotions, mixing with the paint materials. She wanted people to look at the painting and know that she was trapped. She wanted them to know the suffocation, and the feeling of crafting little trinkets while sun and stars roved the heavens unseen. Not being able to draw the sun or the sky. Not knowing what those looked like. Not knowing what anything looked like outside of six people, a puppet, and her prison. It was a nice prison, possibly one of the nicest in the world.

Kendra painted black beyond the bars. Even gilded cages birthed insanity.

[pollenat]

SF9 and 5 ways to say I love you

➛ Note: There are few indications of nsfw themes.

INSEONG

Pouting when he scolds you for taking his jacket. He doesn’t like sharing clothes, and you know it. But the material smells the same way he does. You want to be surrounded by it 24/7. His demeanor changes at your confession. The familiar darkness of his eyes softens. You think he may forgive you, but he returns to scolding, this time with you in his embrace. Still, he doesn’t take the jacket back.

The sharpness of his gaze as you press yourself closer to him. People around are talking, too busy to notice a touch-hungry couple. Yet the thought of going further in the current surroundings doesn’t please you. Inseong has much less self-control. His knuckles turn white from the tight grip on a wine-glass, his other hand reaching down your back. It’s not long after that you leave the party.

Drawing each other on napkins when you’re in a cafe. The drinks are cold by the time you finish, but you’re satisfied with the work. He laughs at the little message you’ve added. “Does loving you make me a furry?”. Your eyes meet for a short moment before he writes down a “yes”.

The vibrations of his chest that are forced by honest laughter. Curious, you attempt to look back at him, but your head can’t go far enough, and in the end it moves from his breast to shoulder. “What’s so fun-” before you can finish asking, his phone plays the same video again. Your heads collide when you join in on the laughter.

The strength of wind one very random day, when you’ve decided to go out. It doesn’t spare anyone, pushing and pulling in the chosen direction. When you finally find shelter inside the first shop you see, both you and Inseong look ridiculously messy. As you’re rearranging his torn locks, you don’t miss the way he smiles at your features. Finally, he brings his hands up to help you too, but only after your scolding.

YOUNGBIN

Sighing when he tells you to pose for a picture. He has way too many similar ones saved on his phone, but Youngbin doesn’t care about your complaints. “I need them.” “For what?” “For when you’re too busy to see me.” His answer makes you smile bashfully. The picture he takes that day becomes his favorite.

A car ride in the morning. Streets are crowded with colorful cars and sleepy workers, as they all wander somewhere with a clear destination in mind. You do as well, but not to work or school. Youngbin’s eyes catch yours, their glossy surface turning soft from the exchange. His hands are gripping a steering wheel, meant to take you far away from the city’s traffic, to the holidays in the middle of the week.

Sharing heated kisses despite the discomfort that the countertop brings to your bottom. You can’t take your attention away from Youngbin’s magnetic touch and warm breath. But there’s a thought that tries to break through his presence. Finally, he sighs in annoyance and reaches behind you to turn down the cooker. “Better safe than sorry.” introduces another series of meeting lips, now much steadier without anything to bug your minds.

He never complains whenever his head hurts, but the weight on your lap is enough to tell you everything. Youngbin sighs deeply as you press your fingers to his temples. Then he smiles shyly and says a quiet thank you, glad to have someone who understands him without words.

The way he never raises voice at you, even when the annoyance is all too evident on his face. You want to bite back, make a remark that is bound to make him more frustrated, but Youngbin leaves before you get the chance to. “I don’t want to fight any longer. Let’s talk once we both calm down.” he hesitates by the door, hand reaching forward to meet yours in a gesture of goodbye. But then he remembers you’re angry at one another, and drops the limb. You cannot miss the shadow of sadness on his face.

JAEYOON

The sight of his broad shoulders, and the warmth of his arm hugging your folded legs. TV hums in the background, easily engaging him in the latest news. To you, it’s just a background noise. Jaeyoon’s soft hair draw the end of your world, their texture lovely in touch. As your fingers massage that one spot, he leans into them, a deep sigh silencing the news anchor. He remind you of a touch-starved puppy.

Placing down your lucky word on the Srabble board. Jaeyoon scoffs at the two bonuses you are given and your winning dance. “You got lucky.” is his reasoning, which you do not question. Games like Scrabble are all about four-leaf clovers, but it won’t stop you from celebrating. Your partner watches with his arms crossed, and just as you’re about to make a turn, small smile spreads his mouth in a way best described as fond.

The clash of strength when you’re wrestling on the sand. Jaeyoon wanted to put dirty lock of seaweed on your head, which earned him a push to the ground. As you manage to distract him for long enough to sit on his chest, you stop, stunned by his radiant smile. It’s framed in sunscreen, grains of sand, and wet strands of hair. All of which take your breath away long enough for him to overpower you.

Hiding under covers during a stormy night. It’s not a reason behind your activity, rather a simple correlation, because neither you, nor Jaeyoon feel anything similar to fear. Instead, you’re grinning at one another in the darkness. His feet tangle with yours, hands twist and run over each other’s bodies, sighs melt into one. A thunderbolt lights up the world outside, but surges through your veins when the man in your embrace finally lays a kiss you’ve been waiting for.

A growing collection of cacti, neatly organized on a window sill. Each one has a name, which their buyer welcomes with amusement, but never ridiculousness. “Did you feed our children?” “Of course! Do you take me for a terrible father?” Sometimes, when he’s lost in thought, you observe his unconscious habit of touching their needles.

DAWON

Admiring his calmness as he munches on a chicken wing. Once he realizes you’re not eating, he offers you another one, his eyes innocent, hot sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. You don’t take the wing, instead reaching forward to wipe the liquid with your thumb. Sanghyuk chokes on his food as you put the finger in your mouth.

Lying in bed, your backs facing each other, either of you scared to turn around after the argument you had. There’s no more anger, only longing to go back to normal and see the other’s face. You miss his voice, but the uneasy silence is pressing on your chest, too heavy to allow words. Instead, you move your hand back, in search of his, and when you eventually do, you’re elated to find him returning the grip.

The afternoons when you sit down on a bench, watching passersby and narrating their lives. Neither of you can stop laughing during those, attracting attention of strangers, but all of them wave you off as just another weird couple. “You have to admit, he does look like a murderer.” Sanghyuk smiles at the sound of your maniacal laughter. His arm pulls you closer to his side.

Feeling his hands resting on your sides as he approaches the conversation you’re busy with. There’s nothing possessive about Sanghyuk’s grip, although your primary companion gives you an uncomfortable smile. You’re not the type to tell the man behind you off for showing the purest sort of affection for his other half. Even if in the end, the person is quick to escape. “What a nice guy. Too bad he had to leave.” you smile at Sanghyuk’s honest cluelessness.

The sight of him dressed in an apron, fresh batch of cookies still steaming from the oven’s temperature. Frosting is bubbling in the pan, and he curses as soon as he realizes what’s going on. Quick as to not burn it, Sanghyuk turns off the stove. You lean on the doorway, watching him move around the kitchen, until he finally realizes you’re back. Just a look at you and his mouth widens to show off a welcoming grin.

ZUHO

Nights spent in front of the computer screen, on Juho’s thighs, with his silhouette embracing you. He’s busy with work, but doesn’t complain about your weight. It would be weird if he did, considering he was the one to insist on your presence. Perhaps to use you as a chin stand. It digs in the side of your neck, hesitating between a massage and painful annoyance. “What? Am I bothering you?”.

Having trouble staying mad at him. Even if the argument you had was a rather big one, Juho continues doing the little things. As if everything was normal. Coffee, extra meal, even that dumb yogurt you like the most - they’re all still there, no matter what. Their presence is a needle stinging the back of your head, telling you to put the fight behind and return to the warmth of the person you’re so used to.

The times when his shy side steps back, to let another one take over. That Juho is more confident, smiling slyly, with a gaze twice as dark. There are new depths to him that beg for exploration. No matter how many times you’ve experienced it all, nothing about him can bore you. There’s a side of an obsessed explorer to your always Juho-starved mind. Even when his deep voice laughs at the excitement you’re showing, he doesn’t push you away. He seems to enjoy the attention just as much.

A never-ending string of chat conversations. Be it cute pictures of cats, rare memes, or just a voiced desire to eat junk food, you always look forward to the signs of communication. And if he won’t provide, you will. With a picture he may not want to show his friends, or words he won’t use in a love song, worried it will somehow get out. These are for him only.

Correcting the collar of his shirt, minutes before he’s supposed to leave for an evening out. It’s a normal thing to do - spend time with others, not just your loved one - but the close future still feels salty on your tongue. Juho asks you a question, and you smile in answer, nodding your head that yes, his friend is sure to like the birthday gift. He mirrors your expression, kisses goodbye, then disappears into the night. Out of sight, not out of mind.

ROWOON

The words of encouragement he uses during a dinner out. Things like “Finish this serving, I’ll ask for another.”, or “You ate too little. Have some more.” accompany each bite you take, deafening the inner voice of guilt. It will come later, when Seokwoo’s voice disappears with a sweet goodbye. And quiver in fear when he scolds you for ever being ashamed of your weight.

Waking up in the middle of the night. Your fingers curl and uncurl, their tips eventually spreading over the warm skin of his chest. Mind wide awake, you cannot just go back to sleep. Instead, you delicately draw shapes, hoping to hypnotize yourself, and somehow keep him awake. All of sudden one of his hands grabs yours and pulls it over his chest, to make you embrace him better. He’s asleep again just a second later.

Goodbyes that take much longer than they should. Even after spending an entire day in each other’s presence, neither of you want to part ways. Seokwoo’s hold is strong, pulling you so close to him, you think he may want to melt the two of you into one. Not that there’s anything wrong with the idea. Was it a possibility, you wouldn’t have thought twice. “I should probably get going.” he says, but the hold loses its strength only much later.

Nothing. You’re doing absolutely nothing, and he still looks like he’s about to melt from the sight alone. His smile is wide, dream-like, and in return you try hiding yourself, because that’s too much for your heart to take. “What? Don’t cover your face!” he’s laughing, his hands grabbing at your forearms to pull them down. When you’re defenseless he places the sweetest of kisses on the very tip of your nose.

The lack of your vitamin S. These instances are so rare, you can never get used to them. It’s like being homesick. Even if you’re sitting on a couch you paid for, home feels far away. It will come back, you’re sure of it. You will do everything to assure its return. But for now, you just sink in the feeling of loneliness, turning over the words, the moments, the possibilities.

TAEYANG

If it wasn’t for his begs, you wouldn’t have ended up dancing in the club. Which would be a shame, because Taeyang was right. Every once in a while you can go out, if just for the sake of seeing him in his element, a satisfied smile decorating such beautiful features he possesses. His hands pull you back into moving when the overwhelming adoration makes you stop for a moment.

The pain being so visible on his face. As much as Taeyang wants to keep the image of a stoic man, hearing your hurtful words makes the walls of a calm act explode into flour-like dust. He trembles in his spot, holding back the waterfall of emotions. How could you, of all people, say something so real to him? Something that could shake him to the bone? When he can’t stay anymore, Taeyang leaves in silence.

A walk through quiet streets. Some ights flicker on and off, broken, some unchangably dark, abandoned due to budget cuts. The sun has set a while back. While most people are busy with their everyday struggles, you and Taeyang are taking slow steps with fingers interlocked. Every few minutes his hip hits yours, seemingly on accident, but just a look at his sly smile is enough to let you know it’s intentional.

“How could you? I’m your boyfriend!” echoes from his contorted lips. “And a sore loser! Can’t I win every once in a while?” His sad eyes and closed mouth answer without a need for words: no, you can’t. Taeyang does a poor attempt at nonchalant shrugging, but his release of the controller means that the game has ended. Only hugs and kisses of affirmation manage to pull his lips into a smile.

The mornings when you wake up beside him. Rays of sunshine fall on his face, gently pulling him out of dreamland. You’re there to witness his first frown, delicate stir, and a turn to his other side, to escape the sun. Before he can register what’s going on around, soft mumbles leave his mouth. So quiet, you need to lean forward to hear better. That’s when he strikes - by kissing your ear. “Eww!” Taeyang just laughs.

HWIYOUNG

Laughing at the sight of a very confused Sanghyuk exiting the toilets. You were meant to wait for him, but Youngkyun couldn’t pass a chance to mess with the poor guy. “We’ll come out after he suffers long enough.” the boy whispers in your ear, his breath warm on the thin skin of a helix. Lean and strong fingers are innocently placed on your side, as if to keep you close, not in place. Perhaps it’s out of his mind, but you? You are more than comfortable there.

The way he embraces you like fine china. It’s so delicate, you’re sometimes worried he doesn’t want to indulge in any physical affection. When the thought crosses your mind, you loosen the grip on his sides. But instead of a sigh of relief, Youngkyun gives you a look of surprise. Questions of genuine worry are quick to follow. And if you have nothing to say, he will make you talk.

Pulling at his hand to follow you inside the store. Youngkyun sighs, reminding you of arrangements you made earlier, but the place looks so inviting, meetings lose their appeal. “Just 5 minutes.” he eventually relents. How does one tell you no? Inside, you’re leading him from a display to display, marveling at the products. Hurrying goes out of your heads, and when you finally leave, you’re late. But Youngkyun doesn’t seem to mind, too busy laughing at the bag of purchases hung on your arm.

The callouses on his hands. You’re massaging them, as if something as simple as smoothing down rougher patches of skin could delete them. It’s not your intention. Rather than anything, you find the feeling of them under your fingertips therapeutic. Youngkyun never comments on the habit, his hands always free when it comes to you. In private, he sometimes even adds foreahead kisses as a bonus.

The feeling of pride living rent-free in your head. Just a look at Youngkyun reminds you of the many reasons he’s so great. His ears redden as soon as he realizes you’re watching, too lost in the sight to be awakened by anything other than loud speech. “Stop!” he gently pushes you away. Maybe you do stop for a while, but the need to look returns soon after.

CHANI

The deathly grip of his hand on your elbow. Its suddenness throws you off, until the sight of his awkward smile comes on display. Leave it to Chanhee to get a bit dramatic with how embarrassed one can become. “It’s just my family.” “What if they don’t like me?” his worries seem absurd to you. “There’s not a single person in this world that dislikes you.” Your eyes meet as you detach his hand to hold it properly. “I’ve got you.”

A hug from behind, few words of affirmation and a smile to the side of your head - a mix of three things that make you unable to say no, as long as they’re contributed by Chanhee. He knows it all too well, often with evident slyness to his smiles. No apology tastes sweeter than the one flying out of his warmth breath by your ear.

The automatic motion of giving him your snacks. One for Chanhee, one for your. Another for Chanhee, another for you. He doesn’t seem to notice the hilaroius aspect of the situation, too busy with his phone. And although you do notice, the discovery only slows down your hand, not stop it. After one more, you surprise him with a soft kiss. Then, as his widened eyes center on you, the hand resumes its task. Chanhee doesn’t complain to anything. Still, his gaze stays on your features for a longer while.

The annoyance on his face making you feel so small, you can’t look at him. The argument is still vivid in your memory, words coming back to torture you more than necessary. You think you may go mad from the absurd of it all, but most of all, from the coldness Chanhee is emanating with. “Whatever.” you tell him instead of an usual goodbye. Maybe because you’re too tired by everything, maybe because you want the sound of it to hurt him.

Noticing how comfortable he is around you. There’s a stark difference between the past Chanhee and the present one. Reddening ears, nervous whispering, secrets - all of them are no longer a thing. There are no walls between your lives. Just the reality of having to deal with an extreme case of a “clown”. But Chanhee can’t know you like to call him that, because in revenge he will find you a nickname much worse.

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

[jiangwanyin]

4, 8, 10! You can chose the character you'd prefer for each number, but it they have to be from Tolkien's universe.

oh thank you so much that's perfect!! 💌🌿🍵

4. shopping for formal wear with

fingon hands down!! okay i'm leaning very heavily on fanon here but he's FUN and he's got STYLE and i feel like we'd have a really good time and would end up choosing pretty quickly and then try a bunch of completely ridiculous clothes on too just for the hell of it and then go on to look at jewelry to go with what we bought and he would probably be super sweet and supportive and would motivate me to keep going when i inevitably lost my patience which is bound to happen sooner or later because generally i am not the biggest fan of clothes shopping

fingolfin i think? he'd probably be a lot more chill but i'm convinced he has a good sense of fashion too and i imagine him being very patient and helpful but also more practical and efficient which suits me just fine?

aragorn specifically post-coronation aragorn because i have a feeling his ranger look would get us kicked out of any shop that keeps formal wear, but otherwise he's patient, he's rational, he's good company. i don't think he knows or cares much about fashion but i don't doubt he actually has good taste and i just know he'd wait around for me to try on fifty different pretty suits and dresses

aredhel because i imagine her as both pretty chill and serious enough to get things done but also someone i'd genuinely enjoy hanging out with and although apart from when it comes to sundresses for the summer i rarely go for full white, my style for formal wear is definitely on the more reserved side too so we'd probably agree easily enough on which stores to go to and find clothes for each other that'd actually fit perfectly?

boromir if i was going specifically for a suit, i feel like we'd have a very good sort of brotherly time, he has expensive but practical taste and we'd probably have a laugh and maybe get a little competitive over who finds a good suit jacket first and always swap to see who it fits better and it'd be very chill but i also don't think he's particularly patient so i'd only commit to that if i had a specific shop or style in mind and knew i could choose easily because i think he'd probably want to get going soon once he found something good to wear and he'd be kind enough not to say so but i wouldn't want to be a burden

8. wake up handcuffed to

finrod solely because i love him with my entire heart and i'd trust him and i wouldn't mind hanging out with him even if we were in a bit of a tight spot because i know he'd get us out of whatever mess we're in the moment we found a way out, i just hope it'd have a happier ending than that time with beren did but assuming the circumstances weren't absolutely unbearable i think we'd find a way to actually enjoy it and pass the time discussing philosophy!

i'm actually surprising myself with this one too but maybe bilbo??? he turned out to be a pretty good burgler so i don't doubt he'd somehow manage to steal the keys to the handcuffs and we'd just sneak away

i'm of half a mind to say annatar because he's crafty and can shapeshift but unless he still needed me for some plot he's been manipulating me to help him see through he'd probably just shapeshift out of his handcuffs and leave me there to rot or would be the one who put me in handcuffs to begin with so probably not ideal??

maedhros because he's strong, smart, and strategic so he could probably get us out and he's patient enough, i don't think i'd want to get stuck anywhere with the rest of the fëanorians barring maglor, no matter how much i love them, and we all saw what happened at thangorodrim so even if he can't get us out i trust that fingon would come looking for him sooner or later

aragorn again i think? i'm sorry i'm biased he's been my favourite character since i was 10 but i genuinely think he'd be perfect for this too, again he's a very good problem solver and also good company to just hang out with and would probably keep me from worrying too much about the situation we're in!!

10. to cut and style my hair

ooh okay so the thing is i don't really style my hair like . at all, it's just sort of short and a mess and i like it that way but since i already have a sort of hobbit like haircut, my hair's just not quite as curly i'd definitely trust frodo or sam to cut it for me again and it doesn't even have to be neat or perfect?

but i suppose i'm also not entirely opposed to doing something more fancy with it for a change so i'd love a haircut and some more simple but elegant and pretty braiding by galadriel as well as an opportunity to have a chat with her also about philosophy

it's probably not his primary skill but i think faramir would do a decent job too since my haircut really isn't a big deal and he'd definitely be neat and attentive enough! also again he'd be amazing company.

going for a more fancy look here but i would love to see what melian would make of my hair? 👀 iii don't imagine maiar actually have to cut their hair but she's a good mum and surely knows how to do some really nice braiding so i think she'd do a great job and would probably make it look really shiny and pretty and put a bunch of flowers in it!

can i go with fingon again? i still stand by him having great style and he'd probably put jewelry in it and do all sorts of fancy braids aaand try out all kinds of different hair styles and we'd have an amazing time all around!

give me 5 characters to rank in a situation

[undercoverclover]

No Matter Where

Part 3

Genre: Fluff? 

Pairing: Chan x Original Character

Warning: N/A

Part 1, 2

Summary: Liliana’s vacation with her 2 best friends ends up being a trip to remember.

We were so tired from jet lag that after dinner we went back to the hotel. "I'm ready for bed." Ria said stretching. "Same, I think we can go out tomorrow night. Let's crawl in the beds, watch a movie and go to sleep." Anya suggested.

"We could, I'm really tired now though." I say through a yawn.

"But, I'll attempt to watch a movie."

"Great! I'll make popcorn!" Ria said, smiling and getting up.

"Don't make me any, I probably won't eat any." I didn't want to think about eating right now.

After waiting for an answer and holding out long enough to watch the movie, or attempt to, I passed out right as the ending credits began to roll.

*Buzz Buzz Buzz*

I kept hearing some weird noise.

*Buzz Buzz Buzz*

I look for the phone and answer still half asleep,

1:26 a.m.

"Hello?" I mumble.

"Hello? Liliana?" Yuchan replies.

It takes a minute for my brain to realize and my eyes fly open, remembering I didn't have MY phone.

"Oh! Shi-.. Hello, hi Yuchan"

"Sorry, were you asleep?"

"I was, but that's okay."

"I'm deeply sorry, I just now got out of practice. I didn't realize what had happened. I normally shut my phone off then."

"That's okay. By chance, what's the time?" I ask not wanting to hit the bright light on the phone. Ria stirs and I try to talk quieter.

"Oh, um. It's 1:27 a.m. Sorry I guess this could have waited til morning."

My mouth dropped open for lack of something to say

"Oh.. it- that's okay." I manage to finally say. "So are you wanting to switch back phones soon?" I ask, making my heart skip.

"Yeah, I kinda need to." He mutters.

"Okay, when? In the morning?" I suggest.

"Hmm, no not in the morning. Not since it's so late already and I'm just now headed home. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"Mmm, I think I told the girls I'd take them to lunch. It's my turn to pay." I groan realizing it is in fact my turn to pay.

He laughs at me and I smile.

I love his laugh so much.

"Hmm okay." He finally answers, still smiling, "We will figure it out."

"Sounds good." I say smiling back.

Then realization dawns on me. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" I ask.

What gave you the nerve to ask?! Shut up Liliana. Don't you dare keep it going.

"I have practice, but I'm sure since this is kind of important, I can leave early. What's up?"

"Um, well." And then I hear a click. "Hello?" I say.

Well fudge… I guess my phone died? I put his phone on charge when I was about to go to sleep. He just now turned my almost dead phone on.

"Oops."

I ended up pulling up Kakao again to message him, well me?

Me: Liliana, again. Sorry for killing my phone before this happened.

Liliana, what are you doing? I erased the message and started again.

I have to go out tomorrow night with the girls, but if you want to I can let you know where I am and we can switch phones back then. I hit send.

Short and to the point. Good enough.

I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling.

How am I supposed to sleep now? I’m wide awake.

It’s been like 2 conversations and a day. I’ll only be here a week. Quit going through the motions woman.

I drift off to sleep sometime later.

“Liliana, wake up.” Ria said as she threw a pillow at me.

“I don’t wanna,” I turn over, “It’s too early for life.”

“It’s like 10 a.m. get up!” She says as she comes over and starts bouncing on my bed.

“I got woken up at 1 okay, give me like, 10 more minutes.” I grumble and pull the blanket over my head.

“By who? What’d you do, sneak out? You gotta give me details!” She asks almost too excitedly.

“No, I did not sneak out. Yuchan called me after he got out of practice and finally turned my phone on.” I sat up and faced her. “Why are you like this?” I ask as I stare at her.

She shrugged and smiled like she had no idea what I was talking about.

“Then my phone died before we got a chance to decide on how to switch back phones today. I messaged him, but I haven’t checked it since I just woke up.”

Trying to hide anything from either of them was nearly impossible. Being best friends and roommates for close to two years does that to you.

You’d think she chose to believe me… I don’t think she wanted to though.

“What are you two doing in here? Can we please hurry up and go get some actual breakfast?” Anya said, coming out of the bathroom and seeing she had changed out of her pajamas.

“I guess we better. We have a long few days ahead.” Ria said happily.

I swear if I’d come by myself this wouldn’t have happened. But, if I had, I wouldn’t have been with the two people who’ve been by me through everything lately.

****

12:31 p.m.

*Buzz Buzz*

Yuchan: Hello Liliana, I think we could work it out so I can come and get my phone from you tonight. Is that still okay?

Me: Yes, I mean as long as I can have my phone back too… :)

Yc: Of course! Haha sorry, so we can return each other’s phones. Does that sound more appropriate? XD

Me: Sounds much better, thank you. >.<

Yc: Okay, what time should I meet you? I should get out of practice around 8 p.m.

Me: Mmm I think we are headed to the club about 10 tonight? So, if you want to meet right before then, that would be awesome.

Yc: Deal. See you tonight, Liliana.

I sent back a smile, letting him know I agreed and I'd see him tonight.

I was actually kind of nervous and I shouldn't be.

8:09 p.m.

“Are you ready Lili?” Anya asks, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Just about, I have like 4 more pieces of my hair left to straighten. I say just as I finish up my hair."

"Okay, just waiting on you." She says and walks away.

I walk out of the bathroom 5 minutes later, ready to go.

"You're going in that?" Ria asked and Anya looked back at me, half in a pose to put her shoes on.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I ask, completely confused.

I had on skinny jeans and a cute black and red sweater. That plus my straight hair pulled halfway up, I thought I looked cute.

"There's nothing wrong with it, if you're planning on going to the coffee shop."

Oh geez. I'm about to get a makeover, aren't I?

"My twin, you know me better than that." Ria smirks and gets up to go over to my clothes I'd brought.

"Ria, we don't have time for this if we want to be there at 10." I say, hoping she won't realize I'm pushing to leave.

*BUZZ BUZZ* I go to take the phone out of my pocket.

"Put that away for a moment. It's not like you're going to give it back until one of us messages him for you." Ria says, coming to drag me over to the bed.

Little did she know, I already had…

She looks at me dumbfounded, "Where are all of your dressy clothes?"

"Do I look like I own dressy?" I state.

"You do too! I've bought you some!" She says, her voice going up an octave...or 3.

"Ria? I didn't pack them."

"Liliana May!" She puts her hands on her hips and stares at me.

"What did I do now?" I say and put my hand over my eyes.

Maybe I'll disappear and she will go away.

"Listen miss thing. It's been 3 years since you cut the dumbass loose. THREE. You need to get out there and have fun. Even if you don't find someone right now, you can enjoy yourself while he takes his slow ass time getting to you." She throws every word at me so they stick.

She doesn't say it hatefully, but she knows how to say it, so my brain will stop overthinking.

"I- '' I start to say something before she jumps back in.

"No but about it. You're having fun." She walks over to her suitcase and sets it on the bed.

I think Anya has left until I look over and her hand is over her mouth while she's watching to see who will come unglued first. I think she was more shocked that I hadn't said anything about my wardrobe.

"I will have fun, in what I'm wearing." I say and cross my arms.

"This is one time woman. I swear to God, I WILL throw soda all over that outfit so you'll have to change." She looks daggers through me.

Okay, so no need to argue today over a stupid outfit.

"One time Ria. ONE!" I say strictly. She claps and pulls out a black, short dress. The dress was gorgeous, the bottom was short, but there was a 2 inch piece of black lace that went past the hem. It wasn't spaghetti straps either, it was elegant lace straps kind of like Cinderella's but not poofy. Realization dawned on me. And it was not in Ria's size. She smiled from ear to ear and I've never seen her so happy.

"Wait a damn minute." I say grabbing the dress and looking at the size.

It wasn't hers like I'd thought. It was mine.

"So, you knew? You knew I wouldn't pack anything too dressy." I glare and I glare hard.

I hear Anya cackling over in her seat and quick glare at her too. She clamps her hands over her mouth still trying to suppress her laugh.

She smiles and tilts her head.

"Of course I knew! You are my twin!"

"UGH! Oh my G-God! Wa- why?" I say, stuttering.

*I've stuttered ever since I can remember. I have to really think about what I'm saying in order to not stutter.*

"Because you've lost so much weight and worked so hard to make yourself happy. You look great despite what you think!" Ria says.

"I second this!!" Anya yells in.

"Dammit guys!" I say defeated. I couldn't argue with them. I'd lose.

I don't feel like I'm pretty or beautiful or even remotely good looking, but they always try to tell me that I don't see the real me.

So for once. I gave up.

"I'll try. One night. But, I'm taking extra clothes and I'm taking my jacket." I say looking at them and judging.

"Yay! Yay yay yay!" Ria says jumping up and down.

I quickly went back into the bathroom and changed. Feeling so uncomfortable but decided I'd take one, just to make them happy that I'm trying.

After our back and forth, we got our shoes on and headed out to meet the taxi.

"The temperature outside is perfect spring weather! I wish it would come back to the states with us." I say as we open the door to the car waiting and pile in.

[zoe-oneesama]

Serving up some LOOKS! I love Mylene's Ivan sweatshirt! Would you be willing to talk about what sort of style elements you use for each character? (If you already have and I haven't found it, please ignore the question, that's on me)

I mostly did this for Mendeleiev’s class back when Punch was starting Leave for Mendeleiev, and I did a small run down for how the Main 5 fashion will change in Scarlet Lady, but not Bustier’s class sooooo:

Marinette -[I’m copy/pasting from an earlier ask]- When she likes a color, she sticks with it. She has a versatile wardrobe, but pink must always be present. She has the hardest to nail style because she experiments all the time, but no matter what she doesn’t feel comfortable unless she has an outer layer. Summer, Winter, Shorts, Pants, she needs to the comfort of a jacket - for Tikki to hide in when her purse isn’t appropriate.

Adrien -[Also C/P]- Basic B*tch. He thinks he’s fancier than he is. Oh sure, his clothes are well tailored to him and fit well, but they’re basic as hell. Gabriel isn’t as “innovative” as he thinks he is. Most of his clothes have the Gabriel logo and he sticks to the brand…because Adrien has no fashion sense whatsoever. Oh, he knows in theory what works and can put an outfit together, but he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d wear tshirts with physics puns and cat themed jackets. But alas, when one is an icon…

Alya -[C/P]- Mom Vibes. Fashion is not her priority. She knows enough to do good for her figure, but otherwise can’t really be bothered. Flannels and jeans in varying heights and a snappy tshirt are all she needs. But she is drawn to things that remind her at least of superheroes or superpowers. Her ridiculous high tops with the spiky tongue? She thinks it makes her look fast. She’s also the one who’s going to embarrass Marinette by wearing trendy but “garbage” fashion: fanny packs, Jellies, ugs with sweatpants. Dammit Alya, you’re a beautiful human being, do you mind NOT dressing like a hobo on vacation?! (Secretly her favorite outfits are from Martinique, but she saves them for special occasions).

Nino -[C/P]- Precious trash goblin. Wash your shirts and the neckline won’t be so worn out! He likes graphic tees with his favorite bands and DJs logos on them (he’s partial to ones without the name of the band or DJ so he can find other fans) and prefers things to be loose. He’s also drawn to colors and he’s super chill when his “garbage” girlfriend rolls up to a date looking like she’s going to an amusement part with her four kids, because it means she can’t dump on him for not looking “put together” (she would never!). He’ll try to dress up every now and then for a fancier date or when Adrien manages to snag him a spot at an event with him, but it’s pretty clear he’s uncomfortable without his hat and headphones. He has a few Moroccan outfits that he brings out in the Summer.

Chloe - Expensive Fashion Forward Chic. She made a staple out of shaming anyone else who dared to wear her favorite color yellow over the years. She was extremely smug about being the first in her grade to experiment with makeup that she never bothered to get good at it. Her clothes are expensive with just a smidge of impractical - only someone with cash to burn would constantly wear white pants! She’s also the kind of person to put off dressing for the cold as long as she can- if she puts on all these jackets and layers, how will these peasants see my brand name clothes underneath?! A lot of her fashion decisions are based on long forgotten advice from her mother - gold over silver jewelry, always have something on your head, brand or nothing. She’ll only abandon a well worn trend if her mother directly contradicts it.

Sabrina - Nerdy, geeky, almost like she’s wearing a uniform. She’s preparing to be Chloe’s assistant best friend for life so she has to look the part. She’s long abandoned any hope of shining next to Chloe, so being flashy and showy is out of the question. Luckily, Chloe isn’t drawn to patterns, so that’s a field of fashion that Sabrina can claim for her own. Doesn’t matter where it is, something she’s wearing needs to have a pattern. Leggings are her favorite accessory and she’s taken to collecting Chat Noir merch (though it’s less out of admiration for the hero himself and more for her “role” with Chloe. It reminds her of the rare times when Chloe acts like they’re friends.)

Mylene - Bohemian, and a touch artsy. Peace is important to her and her vibe reflects that. She’s not super up for showing a lot of skin, but neither are a lot of girls in her class. She leans towards a muted color palette so that her hair doesn’t clash, though she usually tries to match one piece of clothing to some color in her hair. Her accessories are a bit childish and kitchy, like her monster head bead, and she has a huge collection of hair accessories, like bandannas and headbands. She has a lot of different passions with various levels of seriousness, so she’ll come to Marinette for advice on how to use her wardrobe to fit the level of professionalism she wants.

Alix - Sporty but on the lazier side. Fashion is such an anti priority. She’s the one Marinette will go to for her more out there ideas because she has no recoil to pants made of buckles or shapeless over shirts, but that’s as far as it goes. Her clothes are made to be weather resistant and easy to slip on (and so that her dad won’t be pissed if she wipes out and rips something). If it were up to her, she’d just shop out of thrift stores and pick out all the color blocked 80s windbreakers, but when your whole squad is held together by a fashion designer, you can only get away with so much. Her nicest clothes are made by Marinette for her professional races and competitions and her favorites have nods to Egypt mythology and history.

Ivan - Punk but like…beginners guide to punk. Let’s be honest, when you’re built like a brick house, shopping is hard - or at least not that much fun. Ditto when you’re a dude that just…doesn’t particularly care. Ivan has a bunch of cargo pants because they fit, they’re grungy, and they’re practical. SO MANY POCKETS!!! Beyond that, like Nino, he prefers to wear band shirts of his favorite groups. His hiking boots are the nicest things he owns and he has a few bracelets that he only brings out when he’s “dressing up”. The most colorful thing he owns is a hoodie/pants set from the Cartoon Monster Show that Mylene’s hair bead is modeled after.

Kim - Sporty and Serious. Sweatpants and running shoes. That’s the make of his wardrobe. After all, you need to be able to challenge anyone to a race at ANY TIME!! Dressing up for him means putting on a pair of jeans, and he’s pretty much always under dressed but also completely oblivious to the fact. Red is his favorite color and he’s partial to that one brand of sports wear that’s on his hoodie-shirt and sweatband. If something is waterproof (and therefore, sweatproof) he’ll give it a try AS LONG AS IT’S REEEEED!!!

Max - Geek Fashion. Max dresses like he’s already 65 years old, and with his best friend being Kim? He might be. He has invested in some good walking shoes because when your bestie is running off at any and every moment, you gotta do SOMETHING to keep up. His pants are higher up than most guys and his shirts are always tucked in. He prefers sweaters over sweatshirts and cardigans to jackets. We are comfortable in this house, not trendy!

Juleka - Electro Goth. Black is the main attraction, but she likes that punch of something neon - purple, green, even blue (Rose can tell she’s feeling romantic when she puts on some pink). She’s tall and likes clothes that accentuate that and she’s a fan of the details - shoulder cuts, lace inserts, epaulets. And despite covering half her face, she’s really into makeup (and she’s way better than Chloe). Does she have colored contacts? She’ll never tell.

Rose - Decora Kei is probably the best shortcut to describing her look, followed by Kawaii Fashion. Doesn’t matter if she burns to look at, she IS the embodiment of soft and cute! Obviously pink is her favorite color, bu she also likes pairing it with some other bright colors. Rainbows. Are. EVERYTHING. And she’s a sucker for bunnies and strawberries and angel wings ^^! How else is she supposed to have an amazing day if she’s not decked out in sunshine?!

Nathaniel - Basic but like Colorful Basic. He definitely hopped the skinny jeans phase and will continue to do so until he finally grows a bit. He holds onto clothes pretty long because there’s only so many times you can buy new shirts after getting paint and charcoal on them before you just stop caring. He aims for durability instead of fashionable, but also collects clothes with the logo from the show he likes. (And no one knows about his secret Ladybug merch collection that he only wears around his house).

Lila - Gyaru was the search term I used. She’s one of the few with a not super saturated color palette, sticking to dark neutrals. She’s drawn to patterns, like polka dots and zebra prints, and tries to balance it with neutral colors. Plus anything that makes her seem “exotic” and foreign and more interesting, she’ll wear (as long as it’s stylish enough for her.) She cleverly toes the line between fashionable and trashy, showing just enough skin or using a just flashy enough pattern. Every piece she wears she’s crafted a whole story around how she got it, like her bracelets being a gift from street kids in Belize or her earrings being a prize she won when impressing an East Asian Prince.