#i had a ballerina music box that was also a jewelry box when i was a child

[sigmastolen]

cats merch idea that nobody will make: ballerina music boxes, but with victoria (white cat solo) and mistoffelees (turns obvi, the part where he flips his hands out during the brass blare). the victoria one would play the slow theme from the white cat solo. in my heart i want the misto music to be from the turns in the dance break but i don't think that would translate very well to a music box; realistically it would be a phrase of the "magical mister mistoffelees" chorus

you could probably make ones with other cats who have characteristic poses/music but i don't think it would translate as perfectly, you know?

[journalofsorts2]

i keep seeing sad poetry and shit on tiktok and i just saw another batch of it and i was like "oh, i'm gonna go look at this thing that makes me sad real quick" because of it. it's this little jewelry box, it has a ballerina painted on the top and it used to have a crank in the back and a ballerina in the box that might've played music, idk. i never remember it working, and now the crank and the ballerina inside are gone so i'll never know it's tune. but this box was my mom's. it was the box that she kept all the shitty things i gave her as a kid. cause y'know kids don't have money and they're weird so all the things i gave her were shit. but i think there was a psyduck pokemon card in there because i learned she liked psyduck and i went and stole one of my brother's pokemon cards. and there was a beat-up psyduck keychain that i found and gave to her for the same reason. there was this stupid little doodle, i don't remember what of, that i gave to her. there was this little pyramid looking thing made out of beads(??) that i made(??) and gave to her. there were a bunch of beads that i found and thought looked cool so i gave them to her. idk point is there was a bunch of shit that little me gave to her because i loved her. and obviously it makes me sad cause like, fuck her, she's a shitty person and an even worse mother. and also cause the only reason i have the box is because i fished it out of the trash after she threw it away when she was cleaning stuff. anyways the whole point of this post is cause when i went to look at it just now, all the stuff was gone. i got it out and i was like "huh, a little heavier than i remember" and then i opened it up and it was all beads. not the beads i gave her, but just random beads. and i think that means i got rid of the stuff. i think past me didn't want to remember how much i loved her. and i think past me got rid of it all and filled the box with beads. but hey, maybe i did keep it. i've still got a bit of stuff left to pack so maybe i'll find it there. i hope so. sometimes it's nice to remember the old her. sometimes i like to pretend the persona of a good mother that she put on sometimes, wasn't a persona at all, and i actually just had a good mother. idk. i separated stuff like movies and pictures with her today. it wasn't just us, my dad and sister were there. but idk. i just got a glimpse of the old her. the one that loved me. and i know it's just her playing nice because she wants stuff and with me openly not liking her, she's tried to be extra nice because she can't handle when someone damages her reputation. i'm not stupid, i'm not gonna go running back to her the second she shows me and ounce of kindness. but idk. it hurts. it hurts when she's nice. it hurts more than when she's cruel. i prefer her cruel. at least i know where i stand. idk man. post over. i'll update if i find that shit from the box.

[nihilnat]

Your favorite song

[chapter I] [chapter II] [chapter III] [chapter IV]

Summary: When Vecna’s curse affects you, someone who doesn’t consider himself as a hero outside of D&D comes to save you with his amazing guitar skills, playing your favorite song to save you from it.

Author’s Note: Heavily follows the plot and contains spoilers! If you haven’t watched S4 I wouldn’t recommend reading this fic. Maybe you could save it for later? The summary is for the entire series, not only for this chapter. I highly recommend you to check out the previous chapters! I try to follow the plot as strictly as possible but there are certain changes. Hope you enjoy it. There isn't any volume 2 spoilers.

Word Count: 3.5k

What to Expect: Reader x Eddie Munson, a nightmare about Eddie, takes place during the 'Dear Billy' episode with some changes... read to find out more!

Spoilers below cut, you have been warned!

After Max found out that she was going to die tomorrow, she couldn't sleep. Instead, all she ever wanted was to write letters to the ones she cared for the most. Or to the ones she wanted to say something for the last time. She knew that she didn't have much time left so she wanted to leave others something that they could cherish after she was gone.

While Nancy and Robin were choosing their ‘academic looks’ for tomorrow upstairs, you helped them pick some of the pieces they were going to wear. As much as you wanted to stay right beside Max, she was too busy with her letters and didn’t want to talk to anyone. And as a result of that, you were now listening to Steve whining about always being the goddamn babysitter. 

‘Nancy, does Robin look like an academic scholar to you?’ He asked while looking at Nancy, moving his eyebrows up and furrowing them, asking the question seriously.

Then immediately, you heard Robin saying ‘Oh my god it has a little ballerina in it!’ while holding a small music box, showing it to you and the others. 

‘Robin it’s not the best time-’ you quickly whispered. You were sitting on Nancy’s bed so you were close to Robin. She heard you and quickly but clumsily, she closed the cute little box and put it where it belonged. 

Steve was looking in Robin's direction and he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at how Robin always ended up partnering with Nancy when he could’ve spent that time with her. He turned to Nancy once more to check if she was sure of the decision she made... She was.

‘Maybe not right now but when she wears this, she will be.’ Nancy smiled and turned to the rest of you. She was holding a preppy, pastel colored flared top and a long skirt. She also had some jewelry for Robin which fitted with the whole vibe of that look. Robin looked at Nancy in disbelief and tried to protest her but she also knew she didn’t have another choice.

After deciding Nancy’s look too, you all kicked Steve out of the room. ‘Oh so you guys are gonna change now? Well I uh, I can turn around and wait.’

‘Steve… leave this to us girls, okay?’

‘Oh okay… Well, I’ll just go and check up on the others.’

‘Let me know if you guys need anything.’ He said as he walked out of the room. Robin got up from the bed and followed Steve to close the door behind him. She was saying ‘Yeah yeah we will, just go now.’

As she was closing the door, Steve turned to his back and tried to stop Robin, his hands on the door. ‘You know I can use my charm Nancy!’ He yelled.

‘STEVE DO US A FAVOR AND GO BABYSIT THE GODDAMN KIDS!’ Robin shouted as she closed the door shut to Steve’s face. 

You looked at Robin and saw the amusement in her eyes. She was trying to hold back her laughter because Steve was desperately trying to be close to Nancy. You also tried not to laugh and you guys were now having a kind of staring contest to see who would break out laughing first. 

But neither of you lasted another second as you started to give up and laugh loudly. While you guys were busy having fun, you noticed that Nancy was giggling, she had a little smirk on her face. She was trying to hide it but she wasn’t very good at it.

All of you stayed at the Wheelers’ house that night.

                                         ****

After Nancy and Ms Wheeler made sure everyone had a blanket and a pillow, Ms Wheeler said good night to everybody and got out of the living room in order to go to her bedroom.

When Nancy heard the cracks coming from the stairs, she understood that her mother was far away from them. Without wasting another second, she turned to Steve, Lucas and Dustin and told them that they had to keep an eye out for Max. 

Anything could’ve happened to her in a matter of seconds and none of you wanted that. So in order to prevent it or at least discover it before it's too late, Nancy thought of watching over her. 

Even though you didn’t know how to protect her from an invisible murderer-monster, you knew she would feel safer with other people around her.

And it was up to the guys to watch over her. You normally would’ve stayed with them but Nancy invited you to her bedroom and you couldn’t turn down a more comfortable sleeping environment. Robin was going to sleep in Nancy’s room too. 

Everyone said good night and the three of you headed upstairs. After a little walk down the hallway, you reached the bedroom and got settled, getting ready to sleep. Just after you, Nancy and Robin sat down on Nancy’s bed and they started to go over their plan for tomorrow one last time, before sleeping.

They were trying to keep it quiet but Robin wasn’t really good at whispering. You didn’t mind it though. After the visions and the horrible nightmares you had for the past couple of days, you didn’t want to be alone in the dark. So needless to say, you were happy about the company.

                                         *****

And after you had a much needed quality sleep, tomorrow came.

You woke up feeling the tingling and warm sensation of sun rays on your face. It was early in the morning; the sun was shining and the birds were chiming. It seemed like it ought to be a good day. At least, you hoped that way but life had other plans for all of you.

While you were still under your blanket, yawning and trying to get rid of the foggines that was covering your brain due to just waking up, you heard Nancy rushing out the door. 

She went downstairs and walked to the living room quickly to check on Max and the others. You stood up and went to the bathroom to wash your face. A few minutes passed and you heard Robin calling your name for you to come to the living room.

You rapidly went downstairs and joined the others. Everyone was packing their things and were ready to go. Nancy and Robin were going to the asylum as planned and Max wanted to drop off some of her letters to her house so Steve was going to drive the kids there. 

And while the others were busy with all of that, you were going to go to the supermarket to grab Eddie some snacks… and maybe a 6 pack. They promised to go back to the shack and check him in the evening if everything worked out perfectly. So you had to be prepared in case you got to see him.  

                                         ****

After shopping, you wanted to reach out to Eddie and tell him that you got him the six pack he desperately wanted. Though unfortunately, Steve and Nancy got the walkie talkies and you didn’t have another option other than Dustin’s setup if you wanted to talk to Eddie. So, you went to Dustin’s house to try out your luck. 

With a paper bag full of snacks and beer cans, you knocked on the Hendersons' door. A few seconds passed and you knocked again. Hearing nothing but a distant car engine noise, you started to grow impatient. You knocked one more time and yelled,

‘Ms Henderson, are you at home? 

‘HELLO? Anybody?’

It was clear that she wasn’t at home. But you didn’t give up, you weren’t planning on it. So, you wandered around the house and found Dustin’s bedroom window. You needed something to step on in order to reach the window and get inside. Luckily, there was a mini ladder in the backyard of their neighbor.

You swiftly skimmed around and saw that no one was nearby; Hendersons’ neighbors must’ve been at work and there was no one in plain sight. 

Then, with the adrenaline rushing, you quickly moved over to their garden and grabbed the little white wooden ladder, placed it underneath the window and climbed up.

When you grabbed the hems of the window, you put all the pressure on your hands and jumped inside, landing on the floor. When your body met the floor, there was a big noise. A noise big enough to alert Dustin’s cat. You quickly stood up.

You’ve been at Dustin’s house dozens of times by now and you tried to pet Tews in every chance you got. A year or two ago, their first cat Mews died and in order to open their house to a new cat and try to fill the emotional gap, they adopted the cute little Tews.

‘Hey baby.’ You whispered gently and Tews came closer to you, rubbing himself onto your legs. You quickly crouched and started to pet him. Hearing the lovely purrs he makes made your heart melt. 

You continued to pet him a little longer and as far as you could tell, Tews was very happy with his current situation. As much as you wanted to spend more time with him, you had to speak to Eddie. 

It’s been a long time since you two last talked and you desperately wanted to hear him. Hear him saying that he was safe and happy. 

You didn’t know all of Dustin’s ham radio setup but luckily you knew the basics. He has taught you about it when you asked what it was the first time you were in his house. 

You weren’t actually curious about how it worked but when he started to tell you all the details about it, you knew you had to listen to him because he was so happy to teach it to somebody. You couldn’t stop him after you saw the excitement in his eyes.

And this one time in Family Video Parlor, while he was telling about his day to Steve, he mentioned that he taught you about his radio.

‘See, (Y/N) is way cooler than you, Steve. You never wanted to learn about it!’

‘Woah woah woah woah… Henderson?’ He looked hurt, placing a hand over his heart as if he had been stabbed. 

‘Don’t sound so surprised Steve, he’s right. She is definitely cooler than you.’ Added Robin.

You chuckled at the sight in front of you; Steve was furrowing his eyebrows and his mouth was agape, looking confused and a little sad. He was definitely putting on a show. 

In the meantime, Dustin was looking directly in his eyes, challenging him and smiling brightly than ever. These little moments brought joy to your life.

                                        ****

After setting the radio and controlling all the buttons, you braced yourself and touched the voice button. 

‘Munson, can you hear me?’

No sound. 

‘If you can hear me, please say something Munson. This should be working.’

Still no answer.

You tried again.

‘Eddie, please answer me… EDDIE!’

After yelling, you heard nothing but Tews’ little meow. You couldn’t comprehend what was going on. You did everything like Dustin has shown you. You checked all the buttons again, fearing the worst;

What if Eddie got caught? What if the police found him? Or worse, what if Jason and the others found him? You didn’t want to let the bad thoughts consume you but it was late. You were already scared.

You felt your vision getting blurry as your eyes began to water up. You looked around the room in an attempt to clear your head but suddenly, there was this painful ache in your heart, your throat burning. 

You didn’t know what to do. For a few seconds, you blankly stared at the wall in front of you, trying to come up with an idea. Then you thought of communicating with the others so that you guys could make a plan and go see him sooner.  

You were trying to change the station in order to reach out to Dustin’s walkie talkie. You did the last adjustments and you were ready to go. 

‘Dustin? Dustin please tell me you copy.’

‘(Y/N)? How?’

‘I uh, broke into your house but that's not important right now.’ 

You tried to ignore the lump in your throat and continued: ‘I can’t reach out to Eddie and I’m worried, like really worried.’ 

‘...Are you sure you checked all the buttons? Maybe you made a mistake-’

You knitted your eyebrows as you felt a couple of tears streaming down your cheek and tried your hardest not to break into tears. 

‘Dustin look. I controlled them over and over again. I didn’t make a mistake. We have to go to the shack as soon as possible, I need to know if he’s alright.’ 

‘Maybe he is busy with something (Y/N). We’re here at the graveyard right now, Max is sitting in front of Billy’s gravestone, reading her letter to him.’

‘Once she finishes, we’ll come pick you up and go to the shack okay? I promise. But us coming to you, it could take a while.’

‘Dustin please, you don’t understand. We have to check up on him as soon as we can. We could be too late.’

For a while, Dustin didn’t give you an answer and you didn’t hear anything from them. Not even a single noise. 

‘Dustin?...DUSTIN.’

You heard a distant voice, you figured that it belonged to Lucas. ‘DUSTIN SHE’S FLOATING! ...FLOATING!!’

‘...Oh sHIT SHIT SHIT!’ Dustin exclaimed. His voice was higher than usual, meaning he was really scared.

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN FLOATING? DUSTIN WHA-’

‘(Y/N) GOTTA GO TALK TO YA LATER.’

                                           ****

After talking to Dustin, you had so many questions but you didn’t have anything to do. Your hands were tied and this waiting was going to drive you nuts. 

Hoping that Nancy and Robin found a way to beat Vecna, you laid down on Dustin’s bed and drifted off to a small nap without realizing. Turns out, after all that mental exhaustion you desperately needed a rest. 

Even though your nap was small, the dream you saw had a long lasting effect on you even after you woke up. 

In your dream, you were in the same exact position, laying down on Dustin’s bed in their house, Tews snuggling up to you. For a second, you looked so peaceful.

But this moment didn’t stay for long. After a few seconds, you woke up to a gunshot sound that had just flared. The noise came from somewhere close, as if it happened in the backyard of Hendersons’. 

You quickly but carefully stood up, trying not to wake the cat up. First, you looked outside from the living room window but you couldn’t quite tell who those people were at first glance. But there were two people, one on the ground who was fighting for his life and the other was holding the gun towards him. 

You rapidly made your way to the backyard door and opened it. When the guy with the gun heard the noise, he started to run, escaping the backyard. 

You yelled at the guy for him to turn back, so that you could understand who it was. But when the sleepiness wore down, you understood everything perfectly. It was Jason.

So, that meant that the person who was shot would be… Eddie. You quickly turned your gaze towards the guy on the floor. And it was him. Gasping for air, his torso covered in blood, a single tear streaming down his left cheek.

You ran to him, almost throwing yourself at the ground beside him. Your hands immediately cupped his face and his gaze turned towards you, leaning into your touch.

‘(Y/N)?’ He looked deeply in your eyes and forced a smile. It was obvious that he was in pain. You tried to keep your composure for a little bit, trying to look brave for him.

‘Eddie, Eddie you’re going to be okay. I promise baby, I promise everything is going to be alright.’

You dropped your hands and looked around for Dustin, Steve… For anyone. But unfortunately, there was no one. It was only you and him.

‘I’m sorry. Sorry for puttin’ you through hell. You didn’t deserve it.’ He hardly said while gritting his teeth. Your heart broke at his words.

‘No Eddie, none of it is your fault. This is not goodbye, you hear me? We’ll get you to the hospital and-.’

‘I love you (Y/N).’ he whispered.

And a tear fell down your cheek. He already accepted his fate and now it was your turn to accept the hard reality.

‘I love you too Eddie.’

                                          ****

You woke up in cold sweat as you heard Steve’s car roll in. You couldn’t comprehend where you were for a long minute or two. That was one of the worst nightmares you ever had in your entire life. Seeing someone you truly love die in your arms…

You heard the lock of the main door opening and Dustin yelling ‘(Y/N)! We have so much to tell you!’ If it wasn’t for Dustin, it would’ve taken you much longer to grasp the reality. It was just a nightmare, you thought to yourself. None of it was real. 

‘D-Dustin! I’m here with Tews.’ you exclaimed and they followed the sound of your voice. 

When Steve, Lucas, Dustin and Max came to the room, Lucas said, ‘You won’t believe what happened…’ and they all turned to Max. She looked distressed, tired and she had her headphones on, listening to Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush. 

While all of the gaze was turned towards her, she was trying to avoid eye contact, her arms were crossed. But eventually, she started to tell you about what just happened to her minutes ago and the others joined her, telling the story from their point of view. 

                                          ****

After learning all the stuff about Max escaping Vecna with the help of her favorite song, you felt a certain comfort. If something were to happen to you, at least you knew what to do; You had to listen to your favorite song and stick to your happiest memories. When you thought back of all of the happy memories you had, there was always a certain person popping up in all of them: That person was none other than Eddie Munson.  

You were still debating on whether to tell the others about your symptoms or not when all of you heard a knock on the door. It was Nancy and Robin. When they saw Max safe and sound, they felt a wave of relief washing all over them. 

After everybody catched up on the latest news in a detailed manner, you finally filled everyone in about Eddie. How you couldn’t reach out to him and that it has been a couple of days since you guys last saw him… That you missed him and that you were worried about him. And finally, they all agreed to go to the shack to look out for him. 

                                          ****

A long car ride after, you were finally at the shack. But there was a problem: Police cars were everywhere. Your breathing started to fasten at the sight that was being displayed right in front of you. You all momentarily froze, trying to understand what was happening. 

Steve was the first one to get out of the car and seconds after, he was followed by you. As soon as you got out of the car, you saw Jason, all wet and wrapped up in a blanket. He was talking with one of the police chiefs. 

You instantly turned to Steve, only to find out that he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. You returned him the same look and your eyes went back to Jason. Still talking with the chief, he felt your eyes on him and fixed his gaze towards you. You’ve never been fond of him -although he didn’t know that- and all this ‘hunting’ thing and the nightmare you just saw, were not helping the situation.

After locking eyes with him, you politely flashed him a little smile. He didn’t know you were close with Eddie and you thought that you could use that to your advantage. Talking to him could’ve helped you understand where Eddie was. You quickly returned your gaze towards Steve and mouthed ‘Go and leave him to me.’

He said ‘No I can’t leave you with this guy.’ 

You quickly moved to Steve’s side and whispered to him so no one else could hear you: ‘He shouldn’t see Dustin and Lucas. Don’t you remember what Lucas said?’

‘...What about you?’

‘He doesn’t know I’m close to Eddie and I have a plan. Don’t worry, just drive somewhere safe and be alert in case he calls.’

‘On it.’ He turned to the car and opened the door, putting one foot in.

‘Oh and Steve?’ He turned to you.

‘Yeah?’

‘Come pick me up 15 minutes later.’

****

Thank you so much for reading chapter four of the series!

If you like this part, let me know by liking, reblogging or even leaving a comment. All of it is appreciated. Also If you’d like to be added to the taglist, let me know.

(Sorry that it took me so long to publish this chapter. All I have to say for myself is: Fuck you Duffer Brothers. Certain someone is still alive and well. Also I plan on keeping this series longer than I planned. Let me know your thoughts!)

 Stay in tune for the next chapter <3 

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@eyesfullofstars311

@unatempesta-dipensieri

@nobody-000

@silky-luxe

@fuckthisandrock

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@plk-18

@eddies-gf

[svnflowervol666]

Blurb , Harry catches reader taking naughty selfies to send him when he’s away

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: No one asked, but this is what I imagined the lingerie looking like! Take care and TPWK.

Shopping with Harry always felt like an honor to Y/N. Not only was he an extra pair of eyes on the lookout for garments and stylings that suited her, but he trusted her just the same to do so for him. It was rare when they did this, spent the entire day out at nearly every store they could think of, and end up with more bags than they could carry with their hands. Those days always end up with a splitting headache by late afternoon and the itching need to eat takeaway in their underwear under the thick, woven blanket in their living room while they watched a movie.

And that’s just what they had done today. They’d decided on two tablets of acetaminophen, curry from their favorite Indian place just a few blocks from their downtown apartment, and the season finale of 90 Day Fiance since they’d make it home in time. Harry pretended to put up a fight and argue for the newest episode of The Great British Baking Show, but secretly he found the drama between foreign couples to be quite addictive and was eager to see their fate.

Y/N had promised him she’d be right down after she finished putting away the last of their shopping bags, bestowing Harry with the duty of plating their dinner and getting the television set up. But what Y/N had neglected to tell him was that while he was thumbing through the racks at the store that sold his favorite vintage t-shirts, she made a quick stop in one of her favorite stores as well, and was eager to see the garment looked as good on her as it did on the mannequin.

The lingerie set left hardly anything to the imagination, but that was just how Harry liked it. Y/N felt as confident as ever as she gazed at her appearance in the full-length mirror in their closet. As she twisted and twirled her body to get a good look at the bra and panty set in its entirety, she couldn’t help but think about how Harry would have her do the same exact thing when she decided to surprise him with it. He’d hold her hand above her head by his index finger and make her spin around him, and he’d wolf-whistle the entire time she showed him “the goods.” Sure, he was corny and stupid and had a horrible sense of humor, but that didn’t keep her from loving him and didn’t mean that Harry didn’t know what he was doing in the bedroom.

While she had plans for exactly when she’d be showing the set off to Harry, it did give her the idea to get ahead on a little something else. Harry was out of town constantly, sometimes for several weeks, and their intimate time is left to be taken care of over the phone. They’ve gotten quite adventurous in how they take care of each other when they’re not physically able to touch each other, but a good ol’ photo was always timeless and tasteful.

She figured she had time to snap a pic or two before Harry came looking for her, so she reached for the old polaroid camera that they kept on their jewelry stand and snapped a few photos of herself to stow away in Harry’s suitcase when he wasn’t looking. She posed seductively for them all, an inviting pout on her lips when they were visible, a gentle hand at her waist or cupping her breast when needed. It was almost as if she could hear Harry telling her all of the naughty things that he wanted to do to her as each over-exposed photograph fell to the floor at her feet, how he wanted to bend her over the bed and - 

"Taking those f' yeh boyfriend, are ya?" Harry’s voice intruded the daydream she’d been lost in.

He was propped up against the door frame of the closet, twisting the thin silver band on his ring finger that he'd worn for nearly four years now.

“Came up here t’ tell yeh that the curry was gettin’ cold, but I see you’ve got other pressing matters t’ attend to.”

She felt embarrassment all over her body, quickly reaching for the scattered polaroid images on the floor and for shirt she had just taken off to cover herself up.

“Don’t,” Harry instructed with a shake of his head.

“Lemme see.”

Just as she knew he would, he grabs her arm, lifting it above her head and twirling her around like a ballerina in a music box. He eyed her up and down, making note of the ways the lingerie clung to her curves perfectly, and of the little details within the set fit her (his) taste to a tee. 

“‘S pretty,” Harry mumbled, more to himself than to Y/N.

His eyes were growing darker, pants growing tighter at the notion of how much he enjoyed looking at his wife right now, and at the thought of what he’d like to do to her.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she pouted, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“A little going away present and then I was going to pack some of the pictures in your luggage before you left.”

To that, Harry chuckled and regretfully informed her, “If it makes yeh feel any better, I peeked in the bag when yeh went in t’ pick up our food. I’d recognize that bag anywhere, Y/N. You’re smart but yeh not as sneaky as yeh think.” 

Harry tucked a stray bit of hair behind Y/N’s ear so he could kiss her forehead just about her brow, letting his hand drift down from her cheek to her neck and then to her collarbones where the straps of the lingerie sat prettily. It was clear when his index finger fumbled with the material decorating her breast that it wasn’t in his plans to leave the bedroom (or even the closet for that matter) without making her cum at least three times, but it wasn’t as if the dull throbbing between her legs that amplified with every second that Harry’s skin met hers would argue otherwise.

“‘S very nice of you t’ think about me when yeh were taking those pretty pictures of yourself.”

His demeanor had changed completely. He was no longer the light-hearted, easy-going Harry that he was before he’d caught her red-handed taking racey photos of herself to give to him. He suddenly became more rigid and stern - ready to tell his wife all of the filthy things he wanted to do to her, and also to see them through. Y/N liked the first Harry a whole lot, but found herself weak in the knees for the Harry that was in front of her right now.

“Thought dinner was getting cold,” Y/N wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if she needed to whisper. 

“‘M not that hungry f’ curry anymore,” Harry matched her tone, eyes fixated on the curve of her ass that he could see thanks to the floor-length mirror in front of him.

“Hungry for something else, though?” Her voice quickly laced itself with charm, falling into the coy role she knew so well.

“Definitely hungry f’ somethin’ else,” Harry repeated, each of them knowing good and well that their curry was going to go bad and they were definitely missing that season finale.

[bluebird722]

Masks in a Maze

Characters: NTT!Raven and TT!Red-X

Rating: M for lemon

Summary: The Titans must infiltrate a masquerade in search of any suspicious activity, but maybe it begins within one of them...

The ball had not even started when it was supposed to, as the Titans discovered upon arrival. Attendees were standing together, holding glasses of champagne and talking to one another. Everyone was wearing a mask—some similar to Nightwing’s, some so covering that even the Changeling’s green hair and skin would have appeared to be a covering.

“All right, Titans,” whispered Dick, “remember the plan: Keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. If anything feels wrong, report to me or find one another, but be subtle.”

“Got it.”

“Understood.”

After Garfield, Victor, Donna, Raven, Kori, and Wally whispered their promises to obey, each Titan separated, the skirts of the females’ dresses fluttering behind them in seas of vibrant colors.

Raven forgot how Dick even heard of this ball, let alone suspected that someone might pull a heist on what was the city’s annual fundraiser/celebratory gathering to support the local children’s hospital, but that explained the ball’s theme—masked masquerade, a reminder that even the unknown, the anonymous were heroes. She braced herself for the nearly five hundred attendees, and so far, it seemed to be working. Emotions could not suffocate her; she had meditated and reminded herself to stay focused on Dick’s instruction, even if it meant dancing. Unfortunately, that meant having to find a partner.

Several young women around her age had gathered by a pillar, either whispering to each other or admiring the artwork. Raven noticed Donna thank a waiter for champagne and tried to follow her advice: Make eye contact with a man, smile, and break eye contact. He will want to chase you before you attract another man. It seemed easier said than done. Nearly every man—not counting her teammates—was in the company of whom she perceived to be more attractive women. Raven eyed a strand of hair that framed her face and wondered if she should have done something other than a French twist for her long black hair.

She tried not to fidget with any part of her gown, as though such an action would ruin it. She did not like shopping for this event, even though she had Kori at her side to provide options. They all looked beautiful on the hangers, but, ironically, this gown, the one that made her feel so insecure, was the one Kori approved of. The color, a royal navy and almost the opposite of her normal colored dress, was too slimming. The mermaid gown with the train was difficult to walk in, even though Kori thought it was somehow suitable for dancing in. It was strapless, and the back bared her shoulder blades, but even with long gloves, she still felt like she was exposing too much skin. At least the mask was shaped like a swan and hooked behind her ears like a pair of glasses.

She watched the mayor go up on stage, thank everyone for their attendance, and announce that the dancing should begin. Raven took a deep breath. Not all of the women beside her had left and found partners, but she shifted her feelings so she could concentrate. As the band began some symphony, she watched for anything unusual, but all she could find were masked dancers preparing to dance. She thought that she saw the top of Victor’s head but realized that it was part of a mask.

“It’s no fun being a wallflower, is it?”

The whisper and warm breath in her ear made Raven jump. She turned to her left and made eye contact with the stranger—eyes a piercing blue, almost concealed behind a mask framing an angular face and a head of curly black hair. Even by looking at his face, she knew that he wore a cape of black silk with an interior of red silk.

She inhaled, but her lungs felt frozen.

The stranger smiled. She tried not to fantasize about those lips and what it would be like to kiss them, and they didn’t even look chapped. “Um…no…” she whispered back.

He took her hand, covered in a bicep-long white glove, and kissed the curve of her wrist. Concentrate, she reminded herself. If you lose control of your powers, he will suspect who you are…

“May I have this dance?”

Raven nodded, still wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He guided her to the doors close to the band, and they joined in to a composition that she remembered from Black Swan. She knew that she should keep an eye out for any sign of impending trouble, or even of her teammates, but it was hard to look away from the eyes that gave her the sensation of looking down in a wide ocean. She could envision herself swimming, the water rejuvenating her skin and filling her with an energy to keep going.

They kept dancing for what seemed like hours, yet she wasn’t tired. She felt like the mini ballerinas in the musical jewelry boxes. For a moment, she envisioned herself and her partner becoming one, unwilling to ever separate. She pressed her chest against his and clutched his shoulder. He responded by slowly stroking up the back of her dress.

“This night is turning out better than I had hoped,” he whispered into the sensitive skin of her neck.

Raven pulled away, still holding onto his shoulder and hand. “How is that?”

Her partner refused to look away from her eyes. Raven’s torso began to perspire under the material of her gown. “Let me show you something.”

Raven took a deep breath. She knew that doing so would pull her away from the overall intention of why she was here, but she knew that refusing might make him suspicious. Maybe he was the one whom Dick was suspecting, or maybe she was overthinking.

“Where shall we go?” she whispered.

He pulled away and led her outside into the crisp spring air. Raven couldn’t help but shiver once she stepped outside. Why didn’t she think to bring a shawl to this event?

Her partner chuckled, and she heard a clasp. “Where are my manners?” he asked himself. Raven felt the smooth fabric of silk encase her shoulders and exposed back, and shivered even more. “Forgive me, Rachel Roth. I did not even assume—”

Raven’s eyes widen. “H—How did you know my name?”

True, it was not her birth name, just one that she used for legal matters, but how could he have suspected?

“Rachel Roth?” he asked. He shrugged. “I couldn’t help but recognize you from that portrait that you posed for, from that photographer James Silke.”

Raven’s throat dried. “H—How—Wh—What—”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just recognized you by your cheekbones, your nose, even your lips, even with that mask you’re wearing.”

Raven’s cheeks flushed. Not only did he know her “name” and recognize her, but he also saw her naked, sans two silver bracelets and matching hoop earrings. She didn’t know why she agreed to pose for James Silke, other than that the pictures were for charity, and she thought that it would help her feel more in touch with herself. As long as she covered her breasts and didn’t show offer her nether regions, she didn’t feel like she was “exploiting” herself for men’s and women’s lusty eyes.

And he knew her name… Did he know who she was. Was that enough for him to recognize her as Raven of the Teen Titans? Raven worried that she had walked into a trap. She turned her head only to realize that they were no longer beside the ballroom. In fact, everything around them was green. With a sinking heart, she realized that they had made their way into the nearby maze. She refused to meet his eyes. “Whe—How did we…”

He looked amused. “You don’t remember? We’ve been walking through the maze for a while. You must have lost focus.”

Raven felt her heart racing and worried that she had indeed walked into a trap. The only way to escape was to use her powers, but that would blow her cover, and then the bad guys, if any, would know that she wasn’t alone. She listened hard but could not hear any human voices. Even the music was faint.

“Relax,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I only wanted to keep walking.”

Raven pulled his cape tighter around her arms. “But you just met me—I mean, you know who I was from a photograph of me naked…”

“And I knew that the external beauty matches your internal beauty,” he reassured her. She glanced at him with unsure eyes. “I did not want to scare you—only to get you…” He rubbed her arms reassuringly, and Raven moaned. It felt comforting. Without thinking, she leaned into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. It was a comfort that she worried that she would never have again.

He muttered something unintelligible. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “What was that?”

“May I kiss your neck?” he repeated. “I believe in consent before I do something that might make a woman feel uncomfortable.”

Raven had never before experienced such a thing and nodded. “If it pleases you…”

He gave in to temptation, but then he kissed her twice. She moaned. “I like that.”

“I’ve only done it twice,” he said, “but I must admit that it’s already addicting.” He kissed her neck again, this time up to her ear, and Raven smiled in pleasure.

“Yes,” she purred. “A little more…”

He moved on to her hairline, behind her ear, and even the back of her neck. Raven gripped the fabric of his costume and arched her back. She decided to return the favor and pecked the bare flesh peeking over his collar.

“It’s so creamy and addicting,” he murmured into her neck, “but…may I give you a real kiss?”

Raven even more slowly pulled away. “What?”

He eyed her swollen lips in hunger. “Yes. A. Real. Kiss.”

Keep calm, she reminded herself. She scanned the exposed skin of his face and sensed honesty, infatuation, genuine attraction, lust…but no deception, no false sense of integrity.

Biting her lip, Raven nodded.

Her handsome partner smirked and with the tip of his thumb traced down her lower lip. The desire in his was growing. She stared into his eyes and their pupils even as he lowered his face and then his lips on top of Raven’s.

Raven closed her eyes and drew her arms around his neck and shoulders to bring him closer. Even though she kept her emotions tame, she absorbed the euphoria coming from him. His hands pressed against her back and to his chest. Any time they pulled apart, they came back together. Eventually, it heated up to something more, but Raven didn’t care until she lost her footing. Then she realized that he had picked her up and pressed her back against the wall of the maze.

“I don’t want to stop,” she confessed.

Her partner grinned. “Neither do I,” he admitted. He dove back in for another kiss. She wrestled with the heavy fabric of her skirt, and he must have suspected, for he used one hand to push the skirt to her waist, and then her bare legs immediately wrapped around his hips.

“Anyone could catch us,” she worried.

“No,” he said. “We’re too far in…” He kissed down her throat and lapped at her pulse.

The vegetation of the walls were uncomfortable against Raven’s skin through the cape, but she concentrated on his lusty lips puckering all over her collarbone. “Don’t stop,” she panted, and he dipped down to taste her cleavage.

“I don’t want to,” he said with a smirk. Then he lowered his head and bit her nipple through her dress.

Raven’s hair was starting to fall out of its twist, she could feel, but all she cared about was his costume. If he could do that to her chest, it made sense she should do the same. She pushed the jacket from his shoulders and sensed shock from him until he removed it for her and kissed her on the lips again. She instantly unbuttoned his shirt and flattened her palms against a smooth, hairless chest. Did he wax, or was it fate?

“You’re eager,” he said huskily. Raven bit her lip in greed, startled with herself. “Don’t be embarrassed, Rachel, just let me know when to stop.”

Raven heaved. She knew she had to; it was a wonder that her powers didn’t blow up the maze yet, but at the same time, she didn’t know when or if she would ever see him again. She looked into his eyes and sensed eagerness and worry at the same time.

“I don’t want to.” She knew that she kept repeating herself, but she didn’t care.

With a grin, he kissed her again. This time, she smoothed up his back and tickled the hair from his underarm.

His hands met at her back, and Raven focused on their kissing until she heard the sound of a zipper separating. Then her whole back was exposed, and the bust of her dress was loose over her larger than average breasts. She closed her eyes and let him kiss down her sternum and push down her dress, exposing her bare breasts. Then he held her wrists together behind her back with one hand and kissed the swell of her breast.

Raven gasped and arched her neck. Her hips wiggled against his pelvis, and the dress fell further down her body. He kissed up to one nipple and studied the perfectly dark color. It made him think of a fruit with a tempting taste. Without hesitating, he took it between his lips and swirled the tip of his tongue around her areola and occasionally over the tip. His other hand squeezed her other breast and slowly tweaked her nipple but began to go faster and harder.

Raven nearly sobbed as an odd sensation began to sprout in her abdomen. Her forehead broke out into a sweat, and something was growing between her legs. She wanted to grab a hold of his head so he kept his mouth on her nipple, sucking on her breast like he was being paid to. Then his other hand wandered from her other breast to trail down her ribcage and caress her abdomen. Then he let go of her wrists and suddenly managed to push the gown from her waist to over her head. Raven shivered and tried to press her body against his, but he sucked on her other nipple as vigorously as he had with the other.

The wandering hand circled around her navel and dipped into it, tracing around the interior, and when she rubbed her crotch against him, he knew that he did something right. He fondled her belly button a while longer and slid his hand down as best as he could under the high-waisted briefs she wore.

As soon as he grazed her clit, Raven gasped. “Oh…” Her partner ignored her. His one hand sneakily slid away the briefs, as the other kept fondling her clit. Slow circles were her preference. He loudly slurped on her nipple and pushed his fingers into her.

“Faster,” she winced.

He ignored his aching wrist and took to kneading her as he twisted and sucked on her nipples at the same time. She drew long, shaky breaths, and choked when he flicked at her clit. He watched her naked skin gleam in the moonlight and hoped that she could return his needs afterwards.

She was getting close, so he pulled off her high heels, taking her briefs with them, and set her feet flat on his shoulders. Confident that she would stay that way, he laid his hand over her mouth and clasped his onto the moist V between her thighs.

He knew that fingers were a nice touch, but he used his tongue first—first up her slit, then circling her clit again, then into her. He fucked her with his tongue and rubbed his palm over her sweltering abdomen and the top of her thigh at a pace uneven with his tongue that suckled on each fold, collected whatever juices she excreted, and moved on to the other, and then back to penetrating her. She actually rolled and lifted her lips in response, and it only increased her pleasure.

Raven quietly squealed into his hand, her fingertips clutching his hair. She was pouring over his lips, and her nipples were erect. As she collected herself, he stroked his fingers around the interior of her pussy and traced small circles around her taut nipples using the liquid she excreted. This seemed to relax her.

She watched him circle her nipples in such tenderness that she took a deep breath. “Again,” she stuttered.

Immediately, he stopped and lifted his head. “What?”

Raven pulled him closer so she could unzip his trousers, already tight on him. Purring to himself, he helped her lower them down and caressed her delicious curves. They were even better in person.

“Is this your first time?” he asked hesitantly. When she nodded, a part of him lit up in excitement.

“This may feel uncomfortable,” he said, “but let me know if it hurts.”

Raven nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, making faces as he tried to push in. It was like her body didn’t want to lose its virginity or was too scared to take in a male organ.

When he managed to push in the tip, it didn’t hurt, but she clenched around him and swallowed. “I am fine,” she reassured him through shivers. “Just…slow…”

The discomfort grew until all of him was in her. It felt strange yet good, like something she didn’t know was missing form her life but she found and possessed. He shifted his hips and made sure to rub against her clit for extra pleasure. He was slow to pull halfway out and push back in. Eventually, Raven had to whisper it to him with a kiss to the ear.

“Faster.”

He took his time going faster, careful to keep a rhythm and then increase in speed. As he went faster, he breathed into the black hair mingling with the vegetation behind her. They clutched each other as though loosening their grips would break them apart. Raven scrunched her eyes closed and panted with every thrust. Her lover gripped her thighs and became high off her scent, which only drove him to move faster. She winced every time he touched a part of her that made her feel like she stood tiptoe on the edge of a cliff. She knew it was coming and clenched her teeth.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted as he went so fast that it was almost dizzying for him.

Then Raven let out a mixture of a shudder and a squeal, arching her back and clenching around him. She tried to stare at the starry sky, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She drifted a hand over her breasts and down her abdomen as though her body cooled down from its adrenaline high and settled back into place, like if she dove into the ocean and the cold water rejuvenated her entire body. She looked down at her partner, who had his head over her heaving breasts, keeping his orgasm to himself.

“How do you feel?”

He panted for a while longer and then lifted his head so he could meet her eyes. “Fulfilled,” he shuddered. Raven couldn’t help but chuckle. Then he did the same, and they were joined in small laughter until he pulled her from the maze. She still held onto him and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you,” she purred. “That was amazing.”

He smiled and softly kissed her. “I agree,” he breathed. Then they kissed even more until they heard an emergency siren.

“Oh no.” Raven tried to peer over his head but could only see green. “It’s… It might be from the ballroom…”

Her lover was slow to pull out, though she did shiver, and they stood on trembling legs as they searched for their clothing. He finished just as she tried pulling the dress up to her waist, and zipped up the back for her. Raven smoothed down her hair for any loose leaves.

“Come on,” he said as he took her hand. “I remember how to get out.”

Just as they neared the entrance and saw flashes of blue and cherry lights, Raven stopped and gripped his hand. “Wait—how will I be able to—When will I see you again?”

He turned around and stared into her face. “We will reunite again, I promise,” he reassured her. “It will be sooner than you might expect…Raven.”

A deep shiver ran down Raven’s spine. “Wh—What did you call me? W—Who are you?”

He smirked and pulled her into his arms. “X. Red-X.” Then he kissed her hard and vanished in the opposite direction of the doors that they walked through.

Raven’s head was buzzing, and her lips were tingling, and her legs were shaking, and she didn’t comprehend what had happened until she stepped inside and saw the ballroom a mess of broken champagne glasses, scattered music sheets, exploded instruments, people bleeding from glass cutes, and a shattered chandelier that her startled teammates, mingled with the other partygoers, surrounded in groups, too afraid to get close.

[erromes]

@exsanguinatedserenity​ asked: 6 and 15 for Nahia!

A PEEK INSIDE... 06.    bedside table drawer.

nahia’s bedside table hasn’t been touched since childhood, basically -- not that it’s not organized! on the contrary, it’s very tidy and she cleans it appropriately. it’s just that she’s mostly had the same stuff in it since she was adopted, and has only slowly accumulated a few things to put on/in it. it’s small, kind of a reddish brown, and definitely super cheap wood.

- a nightlight she’s had since jokin first adopted her. the circumstances were really heavy, and jokin, while grieving the loss of his wife, took 4 year old nahia to the dollar store and told her to pick out anything she wanted for her new room. this...didn’t go well. not because nahia was really upset! but because she wouldn’t say anything. she knew what she wanted, but she was just too shy (read: the child nahia’s manifestation of not wanting to be an inconvenience). so jokin took her up and down every single aisle, pointing at things and asking her if she wanted them. and she picked out a nightlight that had blue dolphins on it. it’s currently unplugged, mostly because she feels silly about still being scared of the dark, but on really, really bad nights, she still uses it.

- some miscellaneous papers, like handouts from church, letters from school (when she still went to school), lists that she’s made -- these rotate out often, and she doesn’t let them pile up.

- a music/jewelry box, you know the ones with the spinning ballerina? it’s the only gift she received from her mother, since she bought it when she was pregnant with nahia. she used to play the music sometimes as a kid and just stare ( dissociate ) at the ballerina, but she stopped doing that around 10 years old. now it’s just a box for her jewelry.

- a floral print journal she’d had since she was a kid. she doesn’t journal often, but sometimes she’ll feel compelled to write down a weird dream or a thought she had.

- small, miscellaneous toys, some belonging to her younger sisters. small dolls, fake money, a small plastic dog, a small plastic horse, a small plastic fish, etc. these have cycled over the years to reflect her sisters’ taste in toys.

- earbuds! they’re weirdly taped up and only work if you hold it in one specific way, but they were nahia’s absolute lifesaver before jokin bought her some over the ear headphones for her 15th birthday.

- migraine pills and ibuprofen. sometimes she’ll wake up in the middle of the night with really bad headaches that may progress into migraines.

- a pearl rosary that her father meant to give her for her first communion, bought while his wife was still pregnant with nahia.

- a st. michael the archangel prayer card. she doesn’t remember where it came from, and keeps meaning to ask jokin if he wants it, but she keeps forgetting.

- in the bottom drawer, underwear and socks, underneath these things, a framed picture of her mother and father. it’s one of the few of her parent’s possessions that isn’t in a box in the closet, but she still feels strange displaying it. she doesn’t look at it too often.

15.     bookcase.

ooh, nahia is not a big reader, since she had to skip so much school at a certain point to help jokin in his restaurant, so it’s mostly stuff from her little sisters. i’m not on the up and up in terms of popular spanish kids books, but i can tell you it’s a lot of fantasy and a lot of mermaid media! lots of old disney picture books, too. 

also coloring books! they’ve all been mostly filled in, but you can always tell which ones nahia did as a kid (coloring was one of her favorite activities) because the crayon/pencil strokes were extremely light and extremely neat for someone at her age at the time. there is also an old, old sketchbook that nahia used to very quietly color in. nothing prodigious or anything. she just did spent extended periods of time just sort of letting herself feel how crayons felt moving across the paper, so you’ll come across entire pages that are all one color, or a mix of two.

some books that are nahia’s however are whatever the spanish/european equivalent is to the magic tree house series. it’s basically a series about two kids who go into a magic tree house and are able to travel back in time to go on adventures! nahia would’ve been fascinated with the idea of time travel, and would’ve always dreamed about going back in time...for some weird reason. she doesn’t have all of them, and lots of them skip in between, but they are all extremely well-loved.

in terms of knick-knacks, you’ll mostly find stuff that belongs to her sisters. but she does have some mermaid figurines, miscellaneous angel figurines that are just Always in old spanish houses, random bookmarks, etc. the bookcase itself is not very big, so not much can fit into it outside of this stuff! 

[desiraypark]

Snowflakes

Previous Entire Series

As some of you may know, last week I decided that I would no longer write for the Flip Zimmerman character. However, I did not want to just leave my Flip x Mae series hanging. Here is the final chapter of their story. I hope you like it.

Content Warning/Disclaimer: Fluff; Christmas/Christmas-themed

Flip is not being depicted as someone who celebrates Christmas. Mae observes the holiday and participates in the (American) pagan traditions of it, and Flip is merely participating with her, or rather, helping her with the process. Also, there is a reference to something Flip noticed about her in the first chapter of this series, and I thought this would be a good callback to that. ____________________

Christmas Eve 1975

“Chestnuts roasting...on an open fire…”

“Babe?”

“Hm?” Flip asked, fiddling around with a string of tree lights. Never having to deal with a Christmas tree before, he’d spent the last twenty minutes trying to figure out which one of the bulbs had blown out.

“Brand new fuckin’ lights,” he mumbled. 

He finally looked up to acknowledge Mae, strolling into the living room in a pink, sheer boudoir dressing gown. His hands slowly fell and his scowl turned into a smile.

“You like it?” she asked. She spun around and kept walking toward him.

“Fuck, I love it,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her waist--lights pressing into her back--pulled her close and kissed her. Then he held her hand in the air and spun her around like a ballerina.

When she faced him again and looked down at his hand. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry about those lights?”

Flip shook his head and refocused on the string in his hand. 

“We bought these fuckin’ lights, we’re gonna fuckin’ use ‘em.”

He observed every little bulb.

Mae laughed, sat on the sofa, and crossed her legs--baring a long limb for Flip’s eyes to feast upon. Of course, he saw it. He froze again and looked at her, then shook his head.

“Don’t try to distract me.”

Her laughter filled the room again. She stood up, walked to the radio and turned the volume up a little. Then, she walked to the window to get a look out at their Brooklyn street. It was abnormally quiet and still. No one outside. Every street light on. And…

Mae blinked hard. Snowflakes. The little white pieces of precipitation melted into the concrete and asphalt below.  She started to tear up and sniffled to keep the drops from falling. 

“You alright over there?” Flip asked.

Mae nodded profusely. “Yeah,” she answered--voice cracking.

“Babe, are you gonna cry every time you see snow now?” he asked.

The tears finally fell, and Mae wiped her eyes. “This is different. It’s Christmas Eve. And it’s snowing…”

Flip looked up at Mae and saw her hand near her face, wiping away a tear. He dropped the lights on the floor, walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. Then, he planted a soft kiss on her neck.

“I’m just so happy,” she said. “Our first Christmas together. In New York. Putting up our tree. Snow. It’s like a movie.”

Flip gave Mae another kiss, then pulled away, leaving her at the window. He reached under the tree and pulled out a rectangular box.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

Mae turned around and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Woman, turn back around and close your eyes.”

Mae chuckled, turned around, and closed her eyes. She listened to the paper rattling behind her--the quiet opening of a box. Soon, she heard Flip’s footsteps ascending on her, and felt his body heat. Something cold fell against her neck.

“Open them.”

Flip fastened the clasp on the nape of Mae’s neck, and she looked down at the new piece of jewelry that sat over her gold “H” necklace--a silver necklace with a sparkling, snowflake-shaped pendant.

“Oh, Flip--it’s beautiful!” she turned around and hugged him. Then, she held the pendant up with the side of her index finger and stared at it.

“I thought about how you flipped the first time it snowed and thought this would be perfect.”

Mae’s lips pressed together in a soft smile, and she rubbed Flip’s cheek. He kissed her hand. 

“It’s beautiful, Baby.”

She picked the snowflake up again and observed it. “It almost looks real,” she whispered.

Flip snorted. “It is real, Baby.”

Mae gasped. “What?”

He only smiled, gave Mae a peck on the lips, and walked back to the Christmas tree, leaving her with a dropped jaw. He grabbed the lights, sat on the sofa, and continued searching for the broken bulb.

“Flip...what do you mean this is real?”

His eyebrows knitted together and he looked at her. “What do I mean? They’re not rhinestones, Babe.”

Mae swallowed and sat beside him. “Wow…” she mumbled.

Flip and looked at Mae’s forehead with a straight face. She was still staring at the necklace.

“You thought I was gonna get you some shit that makes you turn green or something?”

“No, it’s just…” she finally looked up at him. “I know you’ve been trying to save money, and…”

Flip looked back down at the bulbs and observed the one currently between his fingers. He held it to his ear and jiggled it. “I think this is the one…”

He stood up, grabbed a replacement from the packaging on their coffee table, and unscrewed the suspected bulb.

“I’m saving money for rent. For the car note…” he said. He screwed the new bulb in. “I don’t pinch pennies on you.”

Another smile formed on Mae’s face. Flip plugged the lights in, and they still didn’t come on.

“Fuck!” he shouted. “Cheap piece of shit.”

“Baby. I just want to put the bow on, now,” Mae said.

Flip shook his head. “I’m gonna make ‘em work, Babe.”

“Baby…” 

She stood up, walked to him, and wrapped her fingers around his arm. “You’re celebrating Christmas with me. You’ve bought me gifts and helped me decorate.”

She looked the tree up and down and rubbed his arm. “This is more than enough, Honey.”

Flip gave the tree a once over, as well. Mae had dotted the fluffy, artificial leaves with red and gold bulbs, and wrapped two strands of gold, beaded garland around it. “Yeah, it looks good.”

“Let’s put the bow on.”

____________________

Flip wrapped the failed lights in a frustrated ball and helped Mae fasten a gold satin bow on the top of the tree. They stood back and gave it a look.

“The snow is snowin’...wind is blowin’...but I can weather the storm...what do I care how much it may storm? I’ve got my love to keep me warm…”

Flip tugged on Mae’s arm and she glanced at him. Then, he took her hand. With their chests pressed together, they swayed to the music--both of them in blissful disbelief that a fling in Miami had turned into this.

____________________

Thank you to everyone who’s read and supported this series! I hope you enjoyed this goodbye <3

[whatsseobb]

Something Old, Something New (Crystal x Gigi Fanfic) Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Synopsis: Crystal finds an enchanting jewelry box from the antique shop. Day by day, she discovers different journal entries hidden inside the box. Where is it coming from? What exactly is the music box? Most importantly, who is G? 

Chapter One – Music Box

 Old furniture, crumpled boxes, and a vintage-smelling scent surrounded the store, a fine tune of classical music playing in the background. It was packed with different shelves and racks, some were not-so-new clothing items that were still in good condition. The place was located in a small corner at the middle of the city, noticeable because of its brown exterior surrounded by colorful boutiques and shops. It was well known for its antique knick-knacks as well as pre-owned clothes. The youth adored the little shop because it was a place where they can get fashionable blouses and clothes for a lower cost. It was the trend in their city, buying something old and making it into something new.

 It was a Wednesday afternoon, everyone was either busy with school or work so there were only few customers passing by the shop at that time. The store’s door opened, the bell rang and a girl wearing a white tee with splatters of colorful paint, her curly brown locks tied up in a messy bun entered. The owner immediately recognized the customer, greeting her with a big smile.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Crystal!” The owner greeted the customer as she fixed some items and placed them on the shelves. “The ‘new’ arrivals are at the back. You might want to see if you want something there before I put it on the shelves.” The owner pointed her thumb towards the end corner of the small store.

“Thank you, Ms. Jackie. Does that mean I get to have the first look?” Crystal was running her hands through the different blouses on the rack, searching for things to buy for her wardrobe.

“Of course! Special customer discount, for you!” Jackie shot finger guns and a wink to her regular customer, making the curly-haired girl chuckle. She continued to roam around the small store, trying on different outfits and checking out the vintage items.

 Before paying for the items she wanted to buy, she passed by the end corner where the ‘new’ arrivals were placed. Picture frames, old European paintings, a few decorative trinkets, and some kitchen items. There were no clothes or fabric items unlike she expected but just some antique decorations for houses. As she scanned the boxes, a small shining silver box caught her attention. It had a tiny knob on the side, with its frame covered in golden swirls. It was a music box, the type where it has a ballerina inside dancing when the knob was twisted. Crystal excitedly lifted the lid, sadly there was nothing inside. Just a tiny mirror and an empty space. The stage where the figurine danced was present but no ballerina in sight. The girl tried to twist the knob and some twinkling relaxing tune played, putting a small smile on her face. The box was still working, there was just no statuette.

The music brought Crystal back to a memory of hers when she was a kid. She was about six or seven and her grandmother would play the piano, she and her mom dancing to it. They twirled and swirled around the living room, there skirts flying around, giggling at how funny they looked dancing. She was no dancer but she had fun. It was one of the fondest memory Crystal holds close to her heart.

Once the music stopped, Crystal was brought back to reality, her smile reflecting on the mirror. She shook her head, chuckling softly at her small reminiscing moment, before closing the lid of the music box. She skipped towards the counter, the smile still painted on her face.

“It seems like you found a treasure there. Have you found any jewelry or something inside that box?” Jackie commented as she looked at the smiling girl.

“There was nothing inside, actually. I think it was a music box but I can’t find where the dancing figurine is. I like the music though.” Crystal responded, helping Jackie put the items she bought inside a paper bag.

“Enjoy! Thank you, Crystal. See you around!” The two waved each other goodbyes after the customer paid for the items inside her paper bag. The girl walked back home, the fine melody of the music box playing inside her mind.

 As soon as she arrived home, Crystal took out all the shirts and clothes she had bought from Jackie’s antique store. Since she did not have anything to do for school, she decided to level up her wardrobe. She had also passed by a craft store on her way home and bought some threads and rhinestones and glitters, a few of her favourite things. All afternoon, she spent it snipping and cutting the clothes she bought before placing stones and colourful glitters on it. If there was one word to describe the girl, it would be sparkling. She always shimmered, just like her name. Her room was no exception. It always sparkled due to the glitters lying around. It could be messy at these times, especially when she was too busy decorating her thrifted clothes. There would be times that she forgot where she put her phone or her bag or something else just because she accidentally dumped a large pile of cutout fabrics and materials above it. This week’s victim was the music box she bought from the shop.

 The weekend came and it was scheduled to be Crystal’s cleaning day. She had finished a few garments that she was ready to wear to school the following week. Her room was a colourful mess. Glitters and threads all around, fabrics stocked on different piles on her table and chairs. The girl decided to clean the piles of cutouts she left on her table last. Before she finished cleaning, she noticed a paper bag underneath the fabrics. She opened it and was surprised to see the silver music box. She totally forgot to put it out after she bought it due to her excitement of her new clothes.

Crystal placed the box on the side of her vanity mirror. After she finished cleaning her room, she sat in front of her vanity and took the box to her hands. She twisted the knob on the side and the same graceful melody played softly. She traced the golden swirls on its frame, a faint smile painted on her face, the same grin that plastered a few days ago back at the shop. After the music stopped, the curly-haired girl decided to get some of the earrings and accessories lying around her table and put it inside the box. It was an empty jewelry box after all. As she lifted the lid, a puzzled look covered her face.

“Where did these come from?” Crystal took the folded papers out of the box and opened them. She was sure the box was empty when she bought it.

She opened one of them. The paper was a little bit crunchy to touch, color slightly fading and the corners a bit darkened. It also looked a little bit… old.

The first letter was written in a cursive writing, something Crystal had seen before but never used. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember whether or not there were any notes like this when she got it from the store.

The girl was about to put the letter back to the box when she noticed more letters. There were actually three of them. She decided to get the second one and read it as well.

After reading all three letters, Crystal became more confused than ever. Where did these all come from? She studied the paper, they all had the same texture and material, and all had the same torn up left side. Maybe it was torn from a notebook or journal, she thought. She looked closely and noticed the signature at the end of all the letters. G. G? No one in her family had a name that started with a G. It was possibly from the owner of the music box. However, Crystal was completely sure that there were no letters or any items inside the box when she saw it in the store.

The curly-haired girl decided to brush it off and return all the three letters inside. She closed the lid and put the music box back to her vanity table.

 The next day, Crystal was spending more time in her room to finish her school tasks. Her room was getting messier again as her art materials spread on the floor. She was busy making an art piece for her painting class. She decided to make a landscape of a house from a suburban setting, taking inspiration from the house in the movie The Notebook. She had never been to a house similar to that but she just loved the film so much that she was currently watching it on repeat while painting.

She was deep into her art process that a small noise that was not coming from her laptop would shock her. To her surprise, a familiar melody played along the movie she was playing. It was the same tune that accompanied the music box. Strangely enough, she was far from the music box so there were no any reason for it to play. Maybe it was broken , Crystal thought to herself. However, she was drawn to take the music box to her hands. She skipped towards the other side of the room and pulled the box near her. She opened her lid. There were four letters.

[littlemsstark3000]

Hi, I've been reading your stories religiously and I love them all. I just wanna ask for more Nat c Anya fluff. Thank you so much 💗

"What story do you want me to read tonight, baby?" Natasha asked after tucking Anya on her bed, under the orange sheets.

The girl yawned before replying. "I'm sleepy, Mama..."

"Hmm. So no more bedtime story?" She figured as she gently combed her daughter's hair with her fingers.

Anya looked up to her. "Can I see the music box again? Please?"

That made her smile. It seemed like her little one has a new favorite. Tony gave it to her as a gift for their fifth wedding anniversary a week ago. It was a vintage, wooden jewelry box that has two ballerinas which danced when the built-in music played. The box was already stunning on its own, but her dear husband still had it stuffed with a necklace and pairs of earrings.

"Sure, honey. I'll get it." She walked to the master's bedroom just beside Anya's through the adjoining door to get her request and came back immediately.

"Yey! Music box!"

"Okay..." Natasha sat on the carpeted floor as she set the box beside her daughter in bed. She made the two figures stand on their spots across each other and turned the soft music on; its duration depended on how many times the knob on its side was twisted. "Here we go..."

Anya smiled as she watched the ballerinas. "Thank you, Mama."

"Anything for my princess." She resumed on running a hand on her hair repeatedly.

In less than a couple of minutes, the little one has already fallen asleep. The music box served as her lullaby.

Natasha stared at her three-year-old kid, admiring how peaceful she looked. For the nth time, she took in Anya's appearance, a perfect combination of her and Tony. Auburn hair which was in between her red and her husband's brunette. Naturally pale skin that she got from her. Nose was definitely from her father, but she got her pouty lips. She wished their daughter would also be a mix of Tony's intelligence and creativity plus her grace under pressure and voice of reason as she grew up...

The next thing Natasha realized, the music has stopped and she was already tearing up.

Tony softly knocked on the wall, after seeing that Anya has dozed off.

"Tash, darling? You have any plans to join me in our room?" he teased.

She discreetly wiped her cheeks and closed the music box. "Yeah... Sorry..."

"Sweetheart? You crying?"

Of course, he noticed.

"What happened?" he asked again.

Instead of standing up, she remained seated on the floor, folding her legs to indian sit and looking over Anya again. Tony joined her on the carpet, wrapping an arm around her and gently pulling her head to lean on his chest.

"Nothing. I'm just..." She breathed to continue what she has to say. "I never thought I could have her, ever. She's... She's so precious."

"Yeah, she is." He kissed her hair. "Both of you, sweetie. You two are way more than what I wanted in this life, you know that?"

Natasha smiled and reached up to cup his face. Tony's eyes mirrored her emotions.

Both of them couldn't be grateful enough.

[celestialmazer]

Van Cleef & Arpels Automate Fée Ondine https://youtu.be/I-O5HHflcC4

https://youtu.be/7B9RltuQiJg

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/17/fashion/clock-van-cleef-arpels.html

From Van Cleef & Arpels, a Fairy Tableau

By Ming Liu

Jan. 17, 2017

For the past decade Van Cleef & Arpels has been honing its Poetic Complications range, a narrative-based watchmaking collection designed for women.

As Nicolas Bos, the Parisian company’s president and chief executive, explained: “As a jewelry house, we have been telling stories that we feel resonate with feminine tastes. We have colleagues that create fantastic men’s watches — highly technical, very masculine sports pieces — but that is not our world. What we try to do is transfer our identity into the world of watchmaking.”

And making its debut at the Salon International de la Haute Horlogerie this week is the Fée Ondine automaton, a bejeweled timepiece that is 12 inches high and 15 inches wide. It was about eight years in the making, involving the skills of both in-house artisans and stonecutters, enamel specialists and cabinet makers from about 15 independent workshops.

Their work presents the story of the Fée Ondine, a fairy: A leaf’s movement wakes a sleeping fairy, who watches a water lily bloom and a butterfly dance before she returns to sleep. The sequence is only 45 seconds long but it displays the multiple complex movements of the four elements: The leaf’s trembling, the fairy’s twitching wings and arching neck, the lily’s opening, the butterfly’s rising and, finally, the fairy’s falling back asleep — all heralded by clear, nursery-rhyme-like chimes. “Altogether it’s one single mechanism where everything is intricately linked,” Mr. Bos said.

The design process pushed the house’s creativity, he recalled. “It was different to a piece of jewelry or even a watch. We looked at it like a movie script or story board,” he said. “The thinking was, if we can go from still life to animation, as you would from photograph to a short movie, then there is definitely something to develop that does not really exist in this industry.”

The mechanisms were produced in collaboration with François Junod, an automaton specialist in Sainte-Croix, Switzerland, the birthplace of the music box industry. (“It’s a very tiny village in the middle of the mountains,” Mr. Bos said. “It’s true Switzerland.”)

The automaton showcases the house’s savoir faire. The fairy’s translucent blue wings are the result of plique-à-jour enameling. Her face, much larger than those of the ballerinas in the house’s signature brooches, was a particular challenge. The fairy is the size of a doll, but “you don’t want it to look like a doll,” Mr. Bos said. “The question was how to keep the preciousness.” In the end, an expert lapidarist faceted an aquamarine by eye to suggest a feminine expression.

The whole scene rests on an ebony veneer base with a retrograde-hour movement that has an eight-day power reserve. The hour is indicated by a ruby ladybug crafted in the house’s signature Mystery Setting.

There is one more mystery: Will the Fée Ondine be offered for sale? “It’s been such a long journey,” Mr. Bos said. “My first wish is to see if it triggers interest and emotion. Then we’ll decide.”

Article & image source http://www.thejewelleryeditor.com/watches/article/time-for-fairy-tale-van-cleef-arpels-fee-ondine-automaton/

16 February 2017 by REBECCA DOULTON

Van Cleef & Arpels Automate Fée Ondine

Although the SIHH 2017 was, on the whole, quieter than past editions with restrained offerings and price containment as the prevailing trends, there were some wonderful timepieces on show whose sole mission was to delight and entertain.

The undisputed star of this category was the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine, a show-stopping high jewellery automaton that had visitors hypnotised. No matter how accustomed we might be to all the electronic wizardry available today, it is refreshing to be enthralled again by the sheer magic of mechanical animation.

From the house of fairies, flowers and butterflies comes this spellbinding bejewelled automaton. The first “Extraordinary Object” from Van Cleef & Arpels, the Automate Fée Ondine comes alive on command as the fairy, sitting on a lily pad, awakens to a chiming melody to admire a fluttering butterfly emerging from the centre of a flower. The spectacle lasts 50 seconds before the butterfly retreats back inside the flower and the fairy returns to her original position.

When activated the scenery of the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine comes to life: the water lily flower blooms, the fairy awakens and a butterfly rises into the air.

Crafted in white gold, the miniature mechanism that brings the fairy’s limbs to life is hidden from sight. Dressed like a ballerina with a bodice and tutu set with graduated blue sapphires, the fairy’s flapping wings are crafted in translucent plique-à jour-enamel, while her face is represented by a hand-faceted aquamarine stone.

The tutu and bodice of the gold Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine fairy are set with sapphires and diamonds while her wings are crafted in translucent plique á jour enamel.

Van Cleef & Arpels’ famous Papillon brooches were the inspiration behind the high jewellery white gold butterfly. The mechanism allowing the butterfly to take flight is artfully concealed in its body and the wings are exquisitely set with rose-cut diamonds framing the Australian white opal centre, dotted with four pink sapphires.

The white gold butterfly fluttering its wings on the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine automaton is embellished with white opal, diamonds and pink sapphires.

The part of the animation that enthralled me the most was when the giant green enamel lily pad began to ripple. Composed of 60 blades that have been arranged like a fan, the movement is gently transmitted from blade to blade, creating a smooth rolling motion.

The giant green enamel lily pad ripples with a smooth rolling motion thanks to the 60 blades that are arranged like a fan on the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine automaton.

A unique work of art, the Fée Ondine is the collaborative effort of many workshops and unites the experience of François Junod, a famous maker of automata, along with the work of stone cutters, stone setters, enamel artists, watchmakers are even cabinet makers.

A unique work of art, the complex mechanism animating the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine was developed by automata expert François Junod.

In addition to the marvellous spectacle taking place on the lily pad, the Fée Ondine is also a clock and features a retrograde hour display located at the base of the structure. Time is indicated by a delightful ladybird covered with invisibly-set rubies that pops back to the starting point once it has reached 12 o’clock.

The Van Cleef & Arpels Automate Fée Ondine, a show-stopping mechanical high jewellery automaton, drew crowds at the SIHH 2017.

When activated the scenery of the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine comes to life: the water lily flower blooms, the fairy awakens and a butterfly rises into the air.

The tutu and bodice of the gold Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine fairy are set with sapphires and diamonds while her wings are crafted in translucent plique á jour enamel.

The giant green enamel lily pad ripples with a smooth rolling motion thanks to the 60 blades that are arranged like a fan on the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine automaton.

The white gold butterfly fluttering its wings on the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine automaton is embellished with white opal, diamonds and pink sapphires.

A unique work of art, the complex mechanism animating the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine was developed by automata expert François Junod.

The time on the Van Cleef & Arpels Fée Ondine is indicated by a ladybird invisibly-set rubies, that pops back to the starting point once it has reac

[tanirath]

Remember to Hate You

A story written by its3am

Original on Ao3

Notes:

Slight AsraxJulian, Slight ValdemarxOC, LucioxMC, the third chapter contains explicit content

italics are flashbacks

You can read the first chapter here

Chapter Two

It was as it was when she was among the tribes. They would have to be aware of their surroundings of course, there could be danger, or an opportunity for food, and they had to be alert at all times for either. It was the eerie feeling that she was being stalked, watched, as if she were prey. She tried not to show her fear, focused on walking faster to get to her room. Click. Click. Click. Footsteps to her left. She didn’t dare look, she wasn’t even properly clothed! She took off, sprinting toward her room when- “I beg your pardon” An unsettling voice cut through the air as her body collided with someone directly in front of her. Stifling a scream, she looked up to see- Red eyes staring widely down at her, a mask now covering their mouth, hiding the unsettling set of sharp teeth. “Sorry-“ Athenia gasped, backing away and fixing her eyes on her door up ahead. She walked around them and scurried to her door, looking back once more to see glowing red eyes staring right through her. She shut the door firmly, then locked it. She dropped her clothes onto a nearby chest, hung her towels on the doorknob and climbed into bed, heart still racing. She was hoping to be relaxed after her bath, but it’s only seemed to put her on edge. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In, out, in out. In. Out.

The sun was shining brightly through the gauzy curtains, its golden light filling the room with warmth. A knock sounded on the door. “It’s me!” Portia called out in a singsong voice, “I have your breakfast!” Athenia scrambled out of bed, wrapping herself in a sheet before unlocking the door and opening it just a little bit. Portia’s smiling face greeted her on the other side. She couldn’t help but smile as she opened the door, allowing her to bring the tray of pastries inside. “Perfect day for a par-tay!” She said enthusiastically, wiggling her hips a bit. “Are you excited?” Athenia couldn’t help but be a little excited, Portia’s positive energy was certainly contagious. “Yeah, I need to get home first though-“ she began. “Nah, I have the perfect outfit for you, don’t you worry. Just relax! It’ll take all day to get you home and back again.” Portia reasoned. She was right. Athenia sighed in defeat before plucking a scone from the tray. Portia waved goodbye and slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

It was almost time for the party. Portia had brought her a stunning dress, the color matched her skin tone perfectly, the gold accents and tulle made her feel like a princess. She couldn’t help but smile when she peered at herself in the mirror after slipping it on. She pulled her hair up into a loose, elegant bun. Curls fell from the sides, framing her delicate features. She rubbed her lips together, rubbed her fingers over her cheeks as to even out the rouge that Portia had let her use while they started to get ready together – before Portia was whisked off to the kitchens to assist with bringing out the food. She took a deep breath before turning away from the mirror, opening the door ever so slightly to peek out into the hallway. The sound of the music could be heard from the ballroom, a faint whisper as if a dream. She stepped out into the empty hall and followed the delicate rhythm to the party that awaited her.

Satchel at her side, she breathed the warm air that she was starting to grow accustom to. She’d been in town for a week and it was already starting to feel like home. She made her way among the crowd to the coliseum, not quite sure that she would be prepared for the show that awaited her. She’d planned to leave after scoping out the Count that she was hearing so much about. The dust seemed to kick up under the hundreds of feet that moved excitedly in the same direction, the vibrant colors of their clothing, both the rich and the poor, like a rainbow river streaming into the coliseum. She could make out whispering in languages she didn’t know along with the common tongue, the city’s inhabitants’ anticipation was palpable in the thick summer air. Once arrived, she carefully found a place to sit, she didn’t know any of the faces that surrounded her. She looked around the stands for someone familiar, picking out the baker’s plump face, the same face that she went to for her sweet bread. Only this time he wasn’t beaming like he usually was, his expression stoic, as if he didn’t want to be there. Scanning, she spotted Dr. Julian Devorak chatting with someone with white fluffy hair, tanned skin, clothed in ethereal colors and a mystical glow to match. Dr. Devorak seemed mesmerized by his company, and wasn’t paying attention to anything else around him. His partner, however, was scanning the scene with a furrowed brow before settling on the speakers box that waited vacantly for it’s announcer to arrive. The minutes seemed to drag on forever, as the moments passed the crowd became more and more rowdy, voices shouting across to each other in various tones, a chorus of chaos. After it couldn’t possibly become any louder, the crowd went silent, the air stilled eerily as everyone turned their heads to the announcement box. Her gaze followed the rest, eyes settling on flashy red velvets, glittering accents of gold, pale skin that reflected like the moon itself, and an unmistakable blonde head of hair. The coward himself, Montag Morgasson.

Ball gowns swirled as the music played, the dancers skillfully stepping and turning in unison as if they were toy ballerinas in a jewelry box. She scanned the room, taking in the glamour of the party, everything was just a touch over the top from the clothing, the gold décor, the red carpets that lined the floor with their shimmering tassels. The buffet table shining under the glittering decorations that she and Julian had meticulously placed earlier. There was a certain magic in the air, a shimmer above her amongst the decorations that wasn’t there before… the magician, perhaps. It was like a fairytale. She looked down at her own dress, tracing her fingertips over the elegant patterns that adorned the silk, the netting of the tulle that lay underneath. “Athenia!” A voice called, she looked up to see Julian approaching her, dressed in finery as the other gentlemen in attendance. She smiled. “Hey, when did you get here?” She asked him, wondering if she had missed anything important. “Well I got dressed then came back out to finish setting up.” He said softly, cheeks turning pink. She happened to glance behind him, her eyes settling on a breathtaking watercolor swoosh of silk, fluffy white hair and gleaming shoes sparkling even more than the floor itself. Julian hurriedly glanced behind him to look at what she was seeing just as the magician caught her gaze and waved. Julian turned back to her, face scarlet. “I’m going to go check out the garden!” He said anxiously, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I hear it’s all lit up-“ And with that he scurried off in the opposite direction of the rest of the party.

The masquerade began without a hitch, guests had arrived and were enjoying the rooms, dressed up and fragrant with the scent of the most delicious food and drink imaginable. White roses in crystal vases the centerpiece of each pristine table, set to look as if it were straight from a painting. The night continued as she sipped her bubbly and observed the crowd. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, even as the hour grew later and later. She had greeted acquaintances, explored the bubble room as well as the winter room that had reminded her far too much of her roots, and was now wandering around the garden with some of the party goers that were trying to catch their breath before heading back in for more dancing. The fountain glimmered at the edge of the hedge maze, she made her way over and seated herself at the fountain’s edge, taking a sip of her champagne and gazing into the swirling depths of water, lit by an array of colored lights. She could hear happy voices around her, glasses tinkling together as the guests made cheers to this and that. Breathing in the early autumn night air, she closed her eyes. Everything felt right. Breaking through the quiet chatter of the crowd was a whining, familiar voice. Her eyes snapped open as she willed herself to disappear. Not tonight, she thought. This was supposed to be a good time. She came out to see the masquerade, sure, she had been planning all week for her outfit, the matching mask. But she was also celebrating, as Dr. Devorak had finally noticed her talents and asked her to come on to the clinic staff full time. She was thrilled, and knew it would be a stepping stone to greater things to come. This was her night.

She found herself wandering out to the garden, sparkling red wine in hand. She strolled leisurely out into the cool air, the chill of winter barely registering in her mind after spending years in the cold southern region. The night was refreshing, perfect for a celebration. Glittering lights like stars seemed to shimmer mere feet over her head wherever she wandered, she was sure it was the magician’s magic that was responsible for the finishing touches, making the whole party’s atmosphere seem almost ethereal. She wandered around the bouquets of white roses, noting the flowing fountain of red wine that the Countess had mentioned earlier, placed on a beautiful table alight with faerie lights delicately glowing on the table, artfully circling the fountain and cascading down the table’s legs in angelic swirls. Conversation seemed to pick up at the entrance as a small crowd spilled out into the garden, the lit area suddenly becoming alive with the buzz of excited party goers. A woman giggled, a man seemed to be recalling a most impressive story – surely fabricated for the enjoyment of the onlookers, another woman cooed. Men laughed and clinked their glasses in celebration. Athenia filled her glass with more wine from the fountain and glanced behind her to see what all the hubbub was about, her relaxed features tensing as soon as her eyes landed on a single figure, smiling arrogantly as his eyes flitted over the women fawning over him, desperate for his attention.

She peered over her left shoulder as blonde hair flashed into view, contrasted by the usual bright red of the fine silks and satins, a velvet cape to match. She rolled her eyes as she saw his perfect face, it disgusted her. She still couldn’t understand how such a man had become the Count of Vesuvia. What were the odds that he would magically be in the same place that she ended up, the same place she decided to start a new life, away from her past? But of course he would. He was an awful man and awful men tend to ruin things. She was glaring in his direction, noting the pout of his lips, the bratty expression on his face, when his light eyes darted in her direction. Breath escaped her lungs as he held eye contact for a long, miserable moment, a flash of some unrecognizable emotion flittering through his expression. Surprise? Disgust? He didn’t even know who she was. He never paid her any mind. She averted her eyes as soon as her senses came to her, standing to walk in the other direction, the long way around the hedge maze to make her way back to the safety of the crowded party.

As if he could sense her presence, his smile dropped as his gaze darted upwards in her direction. She was already full of such rage, such loathing that she had to make an effort to change the unpleasant scowl that was etched into her pretty features. Try as she may, she couldn’t bring herself to be pleasant toward this man. Instead she turned her back to him as if she never saw him, downed the glass of wine and fixed her eyes on the doorway, walking defiantly past the crowd that surrounded him. The music hardly reached her ears as she stormed back into the Palace, trying to hide her displeasure. What an arrogant ass. Cowardly little brat of a man child. She hated his stupid pretty face. He didn’t deserve it, if only he was as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside then people would treat him how he deserved. He was disgusting, a monster. Her daze was broken by Julian waving excitedly at her, cheeks pink and eyes glazed. No doubt the result of too much wine. “Atheniaaaaa daaance with meeee-“ He sang, before twirling off. She laughed, following him into the crowd of dancers. She needed something to take her mind off things. The song ended and the next one began, a more upbeat tempo, a cheerful melody that would certainly refocus her attention on trying to keep her footing. One hand in Julian’s and another on his shoulder, he twirled her around the dance floor like he’d had years to practice for this day, he never lost footing as he guided her in elegant circles around and around the room. She smiled broadly as she realized that they were attracting attention from the other dancers, some of them began whistling and cheering as Julian skillfully spun her like a little ballerina. She looked up at him, his eyes closed in concentration, an easy smile on his lips. He was certainly a skilled dancer. The song ended and Julian dipped her low, her head mere inches from the shining floor before effortlessly pulling her back upright again, eliciting applause from a few people nearby. “You’re amazing!” Athenia said, laughing at Julian’s proud expression. “No, youuuu-!” He slurred, swaying and sashaying over to the buffet table. Athenia shook her head and laughed, taking a look at the couples who have once again congregated on the dance floor for a significantly slower dance that had just begun. The lights went low as the music played, shining specks of glitter hovered overhead in the air as if the stars were just within reach. She swayed with the tune, a hauntingly beautiful yet melancholy number, as the couples before her grasped each other and swayed like bright flowers in a summertime breeze. A cool breeze swept through the room, gentle and refreshing. She hummed along to the tune as she munched on a brownie with colorful swirled frosting. She swallowed the treat and spun around, feeling eyes on her. She saw nothing out of the ordinary as she looked around the room, of course there would be people looking at her. This was a party after all, and she was dressed in a ball gown fit for a princess. She smiled and plucked another brownie from the picturesque display, popping the bite sized treat into her mouth.

She cursed him as she walked through the dancers, brow furrowed in frustration. He didn’t deserve to be Count. He didn’t deserve to be loved, didn’t even deserve to be hated. He deserved to be no one, forgotten, alone. But he wasn’t. He was loved as well as hated here, his stupid perfect skin, stupid perfect hair, his pretty features clouded her mind as her footsteps became heavier as she made her way across the floor toward the buffet table. She needed another drink to scrub his face from her mind. She was finishing her second glass of champagne since returning to the party as the air changed behind her. She turned cautiously to see the dancers moving, as if they were the red sea parting for someone of utmost importance. A dramatic swish of red and blonde could be seen through the crowd as the Count made his way through the party and toward the stairs to his hall. The music continued, but softer as his whining voice could be heard throughout the ballroom, complaining about his complexion and the late hour, prior to making his way up the carpeted stairway to retire to his bedchamber. She sighed in disgust, secretly hoping that he woke up with wrinkles, black circles, and maybe an extra 50 pounds to round out that disgustingly perfect waistline of his. Athenia downed another champagne and headed out to the carriage to make her way back home, unable to enjoy herself after suffering through having to see his face and hear his voice. She shuddered, remembering the way his gaze landed on her in the garden. He certainly couldn’t recognize her. There was no way.

A hand on the small of her back startled her out of her trance as strong hands circled around her waist, grasping her hand, pulling her onto the floor. Dizzied, she followed lead, wondering when Julian was going to head to bed. Her head buzzed pleasantly, the taste of the sweet wine on her tongue. “How long are you going to hide from me, pet?” A smooth voice whispered in her ear, rocking her back and forth to the music. A shiver ran down her spine, cold as ice as she looked up into the frustratingly pretty face of none other than Montag himself. Her jaw dropped and she stiffened, unable to move away or think or run. He smiled charismatically down at her, still gripping her hand in a delicate yet firm grasp, his hand on her waist sending shockwaves through her distressed body. “You-“ she began, a low growl.

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You can read the third chapter here

Please check out the writers AO3 account. All of their stories are incredibly well written and thought-through. Leave Kudos and most importantly: feel free to comment below their works. I couldn’t be happier with this stunning gift I recieved from them.

Athenia belongs to me

[caffeineivore]

Fic!

For @smokingbomber. AU. A scene featuring Kunzite, Mamoru and Usagi, in which Kunzite and Mamoru are best friends and Kunzite and Usagi are siblings. For a fic not yet published. This is semi-unedited drivel and snark. Sorry not sorry.

**

The commencement ceremony for his sister’s class at the Greenwich Academy features raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses (without blue satin sashes) and a Pulitzer-winning journalist as the commencement speaker, and of course, their whole family was there for Una’s big day. Kent’s mother, Isabelle, had also attended the school in her own teenage years, and had been sloppy with sentimentality all morning at the thought of her only daughter following in her footsteps. His dad, of course, was a bit more prosaic, though he did approve of this year’s choice of commencement speaker as opposed to last year’s staid and rather boring senator.

Una isn’t Valedictorian-- that particular honour falls to her good friend Molly O’Shea, the heiress of a chain of jewelry stores. Molly’s family is a bit new-money, and her mother is undeniably a little crass by their standards, but she’s a sweet girl, undoubtedly with a bright future ahead of her, and certainly, Una could associate with worse people.

The graduating class of an elite, private all-girl’s school is typically less than 100 students, and this year’s is no exception. Kent had heard tell of the local public school holding their ceremony at an actual sporting stadium due to the plethora of students, family, friends and staff involved, and it’s almost comical. Who would even be able to get a good picture of their kid’s face as he or she got their diploma from some spot in the stands fifty feet up? It would make sense for a college graduation, of course, but seems to lack the sort of sentimentality and ceremony that kids always enjoyed.

“Hey.”

The voice is familiar, and while his best friend’s presence isn’t a complete shock-- Matt has been promoted to almost-an-honourary-Crawford-Tate since the events of a year ago, it does strike Kent as a bit odd that his friend would be standing there in full-on black tie and carrying a bouquet of red roses like it’s a wedding or something.

“Hi there, Miss America. Lose your tiara or something?” Kent jostles his friend’s arm good-naturedly, but rather to his surprise, Matt doesn’t say anything smart-alecky back in response and watches the proceedings without a word.

They sit through the speeches, the music and ceremony, and of course, everyone applauds when Una receives her diploma and a yellow rose as her name is announced. She beams and waves at them as she follows the rest of the procession down the line, and Kent is struck with the fact that his baby sister is now all grown up, wearing a long white dress that isn’t all princess ballerina ruffles, her hair down her back rather than in pigtails. Una is petite and bubbly and probably would love sappy nonsense like fuzzy little kittens and Disney movies for the rest of her life, but she is no longer a kid, and it makes Kent, at the advanced age of twenty-two, feel ancient.

The ceremony ends shortly, and Una breaks away from her friends to join them, and that is when all Hell breaks loose.

That she smiles and runs towards them, not quite graceful in her kitten heels, is not super surprising. She’s a soft-hearted little thing, after all, and unlike Kent, who’d grown up on a steady weekly diet of private tennis lessons and captained his rowing team at Yale, generally hated sports and athletic activity. But that she only spares her parents and Kent the most perfunctory greetings before making a beeline for Matt on the other hand stops Kent in his tracks, and when Matt hands her the roses, then opens his arms, and she jumps in, arms looping around his neck and blonde hair mingling with Matt’s black, Kent is almost certain his jaw made an audible thump as it hit the floor.

It isn’t the type of hug a girl would give a friend, or a brother, and the kiss Matt has the audacity to plant on her isn’t exactly fraternal in nature, either. Kent doesn’t even register his own parents’ reactions-- whether they were as shocked and appalled as he was, or whether, worse, they somehow knew about this. Matt picks up a giggling, blushing Una and swings her around, then sets her down and, even more horrifyingly, pulls out a small black velvet box out of a pocket. It’s like the climax scene of every fluffy chick flick ever except in Kent’s head, some 80s era Wes Craven horror movie soundtrack is playing over it.

Matt pulls a ring-- an actual RING!-- out of the box, classic antique platinum band with a flawless white pearl flanked by two small diamonds, and offers it to Una. “It’s not-- well, it’s my mother’s. I know we’re young, and you have college and I have med school. But I want you to wait for me. Someday, I want to do this again, with something just for you.” It’s an old-fashioned notion-- a promise ring-- but even more shocking is the fact that his normally quiet friend is doing this in front of everyfuckingbody like it’s not some huge spectacle, let alone the fact that apparently Matt and Una had been carrying on for goodness only knew how long before then, because she seems thrilled and misty-eyed rather than horrified and shrieking. She kisses Matt again, accepts the ring and the roses, and then, FINALLY, Matt manages to meet Kent’s eye, and Kent has no choice but to move his brain and body out of the fog and react.

He hauls Una none-too-gently out of Matt’s arms, and then punches Matt in the face, his friend’s head snapping back at the contact of Kent’s fist against his jaw. Matt almost falls down, but then Una is screeching and yanking Kent off like a baby kitten attempting to move a mastiff, and her ire is apparently at Kent for punching Matt rather than Matt for laying hands on her in every single violation to the Bro code in the history of ever.

“DON’T HIT MY BOYFRIEND!!! WE ARE IN LOVE AND YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!!” Undoubtedly, this is the liveliest graduation scene the hallowed grounds of Greenwich Academy has seen in at least a decade, and perhaps later, Kent would be reading about some pearl-clutching old biddy having a stroke because of this almost-brawl that would certainly be more in character at a dive bar that served cheap beer and twangy country music or whatever than here. But for now, Kent turns, open-mouthed, to stare at his sister. The petulant words and tone are definitely hers-- classic riled-up Una-- but since when was Matthew Darien Clark anything but his friend?

“Matt is NOT your boyfriend! Since when is Matt your boyfriend?! YOU JUST TURNED EIGHTEEN LAST JUNE SINCE WHEN DID YOU START HAVING BOYFRIENDS?!”

“Kent, you’re making a scene and embarrassing your sister.” His mother’s voice cuts through the haze and whatever undoubtedly furious retort Una has for his remark. “It is extremely unseemly to engage in this boisterous contretemps in public like an uncultured ruffian. Una, dear, do stop screaming. Do you think we might be able to find a place with some privacy to resolve this situation?”

“Why the need for privacy? HE’S the one who wanted to freaking damn near propose in front of all these people! He should suffer the consequences of his actions that HE chose to do publically!”

“I have nothing to say to you about Matt and myself, and until you get off your high horse and leave whichever awful Victorian planet where women sit cross-legged at home and bat their eyelashes while patiently waiting for the men to find something to do with their lives that you seem to be living on, I have nothing to say to you, period. Matt’s your FRIEND and you just punched him because, what, we’re in love?” Una clenched her jaw, then raised her chin in stubborn defiance. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to find some ice for my boyfriend’s face.”

“Kent, kindly don’t conduct yourself like a hooligan.” Even his father, apparently, was in on this horrifying scenario. Kent Crawford-Tate, Jr. looked his usual unruffled self, slightly bored and slightly disapproving with the scenario playing out. “Matthew is not a stranger or an unsuitable fellow, and he even asked my permission to do this beforehand. Your sister is happy.” He waves a hand at the crowd starting to gather around them, bequeaths a jovial smile. “Everything is perfectly fine, folks. Isn’t it a beautiful day? Are you all right there, son?” This last bit is directed at Matt himself, who is rubbing his jaw gingerly, but meets his eye with a wan smile.

“I’m fine, sir.” Matt then turns his dark-blue gaze towards Kent, and though his eyes are somber, they’re unapologetic and meet Kent’s without any fear. “I’m okay with you punching me. I guess we should have told you, but everything was happening so fast. I’m sorry you’re upset over it, but I’m not going to stop seeing Una just to appease you.” An awful, sappy smile crosses Matt’s face. “She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Okay, that’s my sister, and that’s disgusting, and never do that again.” Kent shudders. It’s incredibly demoralizing to learn that not only is he the last one to know about this outrageous new development, but Matt’s focus is completely on Una’s happiness. “Do I even want to know how long this has been going on?”

“Since the time my grandmother got sick. Una caught me on a bad day, and just… she understood. We must have talked for hours.” Matt, the noble idiot, brushes lint off his stark black lapels and makes that lovesick face again despite Kent’s stern injunctions just a moment prior. “Your whole family has been incredibly supportive, and I can’t thank them enough, of course. But Una-- she’s like light shining through the darkness. I don’t know what I would have done this last year without her.”

“Ugh.” It’s an uncouth nothing of a word, but Kent finds that he doesn’t have anything else to say. The idea of being friends with a boyfriend of Una’s has literally never occurred to him before, nor the idea of his own best friend eyeing his little sister, nor even the idea of his best friend being in love, period. Certainly Matt was not the sort to tomcat around the Yale campus like some of the other rich, privileged douchebags of their acquaintance, but they were too damn young to settle down for 2.4 kids and a white picket fence. Or, more likely in their case, 2.4 kids, a live-in housekeeper, and a six-bedroom mansion with a three-car garage.

His asshole disgrace of a best friend has the nerve to smile. “You’ll know what I mean someday, bro.”

“Why, you have any long-lost sisters?” It’s a snotty remark at best, but Matt is too nice of a guy to care, and Kent privately finds the idea of continuing to pick a fight with someone who, goddammit, is just not willing to engage, about equal to the idea of arguing with a six-year-old about the existence of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Sure, it may be an easy battle to win, but the victory would feel dickish at best, unjust at worst.

“No, but you’ll fall in love yourself someday. And when you find the right woman, nothing will be as important to you as bringing a smile to her face, and all you’ll want from your friends and others around you is the support and goodwill to share in your happiness.”

“Sounds like a hocus pocus curse, so you should probably stop that shit. I didn’t punch you that hard, you ass.” Kent doesn’t want to shake on it and call it good, not in front of all these people, especially since they’ve already given everyone at that year’s graduation more than enough of a shit show, so he hunches his shoulders, well aware that a multitude of young, white-gowned debutantes are eyeing him like something beneath a microscope slide, and hightails it out to the parking lot.

His car is… noticeable, even in this sea of luxurious, flashy Range Rovers and Mercedes Benzes and Bentleys. The sleek black Maserati with the custom gold trim had been a present for his own graduation a month earlier from his parents. Sure, he rarely ever drove it into the questionable parts of town, and certainly it is a vehicle that screams ‘PLEASE HIT ME WITH A SPEEDING TICKET AGAIN, OFFICER, AND MAKE IT A GOOD ONE!’ the way a BDSM fetishist might scream at some leather-clad dominatrix plying a cat-o’-nine-tails on his backside, but it is a Thing of Beauty and a Joy Forever. Kent makes a beeline towards it, then stops in his tracks about two feet away.

Una had certainly NOT been fetching ice for Matt’s jaw in the interim. Keyed into the exorbitantly-expensive custom paint job, in loopy, girlish handwriting, are the words “SCREW YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT!”, followed by a bright pink lipstick heart on the side mirror.

God fucking dammit! He was too damn young to have two heart attacks in one day.

[addytheheartbreaker]

Fun facts about me/persona

•I'm a Filipino, a proud Filipino!

•My birthday is on June 12, zodiac sign Gemini.

•Suffers in a mental disorder; Borderline Personality Disorder.

•I loved everything involves "Duality", "two-faces", "Opposite elements", "Borderline" and anything with dual personalities (example: Good-Evil, Sweet-Salty, Angel-Demon, Good-Bad, Black-White).

•Fond of fashion, my main favorites are Yami-Kawaii, Lolita dresses, Ballerina dresses, Mask designs, Military uniforms, School uniforms and Filipino traditional clothing.

•favorite color Pink (depends on what shade that I am fond of), Blue (any shades), Black and White, and Red. However, Red is formally my old childhood favorite color but change it into Pink today because it is lighter then Red. Yet Red and Pink makes it a good combination.

•I am a fan of many anime, cartoons, songs and stories which makes me a creative and imaginative artist-author.

•been interest in drawing since I was about either 6 or 8 years old. Inspired by my cousin who likes drawing.

•started writing at age 13, I also owned many novels in notebooks. Unfortunately, I cancelled them except 3 complete novals.

•Owned Facebook, Pinterest, Wattpad and Tumblr.

•I collect my drawings (which is paper) inside 4 boxes which has been precious to me since childhood, jewelry contains diamonds, necklace, bracelets, rings, stones, ribbons, and 1 long locks of hair that has been cut.

•When you look at my persona my hair is very long. Its true my hair IS very long. I don't care what they say about my hair.

•If anyone asked me to cut my hair, I'll go cold shoulder or sarcastically respond.

•If anyone asked me which favorite food I like... Um correction What "favorite food"? There are alots of class foods in my opinion (example: pastry, dessert, appetizer Filipino food, theme or holiday food, type of soup, favorite flavor, etc).

•I loved RP with someone but sometimes I can be shy or confident depends what theme of RP I am into.

•I have a confession that I have many fictional crushes since childhood till today. And I still remember them!

•my first fictional crush is Andy Law from the game called "Crazy Flasher".

•I owned 3 stuff animals. A white bunny, a big white bear with a heart holding and a white-orange cat with a cat voice box inside. I loved stuff animals that is very soft and squishy also I like the stuff animal in white fur.

•my Chinese animal is the Snake. My favorite type of snake is a Anaconda, because it is huge and likes to swim. Accurately, I like to be on a cold place.

•Living in the Philippines is overreacting hot like no joke. This is why I like to go somewhere cold.

•My drawing are inspired by a game "Danganronpa", "Homestuck", "Undertale" and some favorite artist.

•I like Doll because it defined myself about my struggles and it is a "Dual" object representation.

•I can sing but not really good at it. I only sing something easy, sometimes I loved to sing lullabies or humming lullabies. My lullaby is "Ili ili tulog anay" (a Filipino lullaby) and "Moonstone" (my own song).

•I hate Gold so much it because I had no idea how I got into me but I loved Silver more then Gold. But I already have a reason on how I view Gold.

Gold is a traditional mineral in history, being recognized by everyone in the word. However, gold can make people greedy, worship and wanted to have it, I considered Gold a Sin. I worship and fond of Silver is because it is clear and clean while Gold is bright but dirty, Silver is the moon and water while Gold is the sun and fire.

•My favorite animal is a cute bunny and a dangerous anaconda. I can't choose 1 favorite animal and wanted them together is because I like anything duality (example: bunny- fragile, shy, soft, kind and submissive. Anaconda- dangerous, cold, predators, fierce and dominant)

•you guys may be saw me a innocent person but I always hide some naughty secrets behind the back of my head. (Don't shoot me...)

•My hobbies are drawing, writting, dancing, shop watching (like going at the mall and admired the product, what is it even called?), watching or listening on YouTube, sleeping and RP with the person I always RP with.

•My favorite flowers are Roses (pink, red and white), Poppy flowers, Cherry blossoms, Adonis flowers and White angel flowers.

•I am symbolize the angel-demon hybrid.

��I played games and I haven't played any games for a very long time.

•My OC's that I have created are my family. Weirdly all of them that I refer them as my soul brother and soul sister, because I create them as my family I deeply adore so much.

•My current anime/cartoon/TV series/games are The Masked Singer, Hetalia, Houseki no Kuni, Steven Universe, Detroit Become Human, Ace Attorney, Fnaf, Fran Bow, The Liar Princess and the Blind Prince, Little nightmare and Rwby.

•I hated when everyone misspelled and mispronounced my name (both my real name and nickname) it is annoying and irritating to correct them. I prefer my nick name Addy because my real name make people confused.

•My codename Heartbreaker. I was the one called myself Heartbreaker since I was 13-14 years old. Because Heartbreaker is someone who has a broken heart with a dark past. I have no idea there is another meaning of Heartbreaker.

•I basically like any type of music, but my favorite music is classical, rock, pop, lullaby, RnB and dubstep.

•I have a birthmark on my left wrist that is red marks, they often asked if I am allergic or sick. Its a birthmark alright!

•I have 3 scars, 2 is a small invisible scar (one on my forehead and the other at my chin) and a big, dark scar on my left knee that I trip on the road.

•My teeth are actually yellow because I don't brush my teeth its because I am too lazy to brush my teeth. I know it may be disgusting and unhealthy but I don't mind.

•I have a abnormal tooth from the right fang tooth. (Look at the monster form Addy where her monster sharp tooth on her right is not in perfect angle).

•My right thumb is rounded long while my other nail are rounded clean. Because it will remind me of my childhood.

•Bad habits of ripping off skin on my nails, lips and toes, always forgotten, always forgot what time or day it is and money spree.

•I have trust issues both public or here on tumblr. I am very careful to the person and read information of them before befriending them.

•the only way to gained my trust and friendship is patience, show me what you like, dislike and interest, and be nice to me.

•i am left-handed, even though I am left-handed I am so confused and frustrated into why does everyone surprised or shock about me as a left-handed person.

[unimpressedperson]

Jackpot | pt. 2

(Found this picture in @youthstuffs , thank you for posting it)

Genre: Fluff and Crack, I guess…

Warnings: None

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x @taesbetch , Kim Namjoon x Reader

Word Counting: 4.7k

Synopsis: Nya spent her whole life in Las Vegas, she would never imagine that local knowledge would ever be useful. However, her vision changed when Kim Seokjin appeared and introduced her to a few friends, film producers, whose needed guidance through Las Vegas underrated places for a movie. She agreed in working for them, and in that moment none of their lives would ever be the same. What happens in Vegas, not always has to be kept in Vegas.

A/N: Heeeeeeeey Nya!! Finally the second part is on! Late, but not gone. Guuurl! It’s a bit more romantic chapter, yet I used it to discuss LGBT culture more further. I’m really proactive in the LGBTQ+ community and want to talk about it, since I feel a lack of queers characters with voice, personality and opinion on oneshots and fanfics here. Since it’s not properly turned to that public, I tried to mingle the storyline a bit. Hope you enjoy it :) forgive any grammar mistakes.

- x - x - x - x -

It was 3 a.m, whilst some cities around the world were down to nest and rest, Las Vegas wouldn't stop. Nighttime is their time. Everything worked after midnight, entertainment would never lack after midnight. Clubs, bars, pubs, casinos, diners, stores, nothing stopped when moon reached its peak.

Therefore, Nya defined “Paris” as the last stop. Everyone was tired and almost falling asleep. Jungkook bought new underwear at a Walmart, but decided to keep on using his new skirt. Namjoon and Yoongi took a short nap whilst being driven to “Paris”. Hoseok chugged two cans of Red Bull and feeling like his blood turned into electricity, at any moment he could grow wings and fly, or float like a balloon.

Paris was a Drag Queen club. Specifically Nya's favourite. A few from her favourite childhood memories were made there. Sequins, feathers, leotards, wigs, astounding makeup, gorgeous dresses, pump music, lip syncs, dances and fun, a whole lot of fun and caring people looking after a very young Nya. No one would ever understand completely the bond she shared with most performers inside there. They raised Nya.

The cab dropped them in front of a bright purple building, windows fully painted in black, a glass door allowing outsiders to see blinking lights, a woman dressed in suit and tie as door guard, even though a velvet rope could be seen, there was no waiting line.

Nya got closer to the guard and after a few minutes of talking, which neither one of the sleepy men registered, they were allowed in.

Ok, let’s begin with saying what’s a Ball, then the story can keep going.

A Ball organized by and for drag queens is outstandingly different from a School Ball. According to the most entertaining and famous documentary about drag queens in late 70s and 80s, as known as Paris is Burning, Ball is basically a competition where drag queens put together looks based on a previously defined theme. Sewing, glueing, buying and creating, everything can go. There is a runway to catwalk and judges, also they perform lip syncs (some even are included and count points, something in RuPaul’s Drag Race style). The winner receives a trophy or money as prize.

Nya was a clever woman, so she chose specifically a day where Paris had a Ball happening. Nothing screams queer culture as a ball.

When the group got in, a loud music by Nicki Minaj blasted from every sound box, colourful flashlights and spotlights were focused on one corner of the room, where a table covered with a silk fabric, three drag queens (Hoseok recognized one of them as being Jasmine Masters) as judges. One competitor was catwalking with a revealing outfit completed by a tiger leotard, knee-high black boots, a straightened blonde wig and a mixture of pink and black makeup. Stunning.

While Nya marched animatedly going straight to the backstage, Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook now were wide awake again. A lot of colours and people, all sort of wearing the most creative clothings ever saw. Some of them weren’t even in drag.

The backstage consisted in thick velvet curtains, hiding from the public's eye a mess of sparkly accessories and huge wigs, clothes and heels, some of them higher than Nya's calves. Observing everything through openings, a person tall and clearly important, with well sewed dress and expensive shoes, exhaling respect from all pores covered in layers of make up.

— Guys, this is the first, the best and the only Honey Dejour. - Nya hugged tightly someone dressed in a black and sparkly long gown, huge jewelry around her neck and wrists, high-heels, a brown wavy wig, arched high brows, black cut crease, a lot of golden highlighter and red lipstick. She held the smaller woman and kissed the top of her head, nodding at them right after. - Those are the people I’m guiding today, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jungkook. They are film producers, aunt. They want to film here and are willing to pay for it.

— Hi guys, nice to meet you. Hope no one here is banging with my kittygirl. - Honey had a very bass voice, which intimidated them, except for Hoseok. - Just kidding, she could really make the use of some dick. She’s been single for a very long time.

— AUNT! - Nya looked to the ground flustered.

— Nice to meet you, Ms.Dejour, I’m Min Yoongi. What exactly is happening tonight? - Yoongi questioned, still astonished by everything around.

— Tonight we are hosting the annual “Glamour Awards Ball”, and I’m the hostess. In a few minutes I’ll go there and announce the next category. - Dejour was almost two heads taller than Yoongi, which wasn’t small himself. - By the way, I loved your skirt… Namjoon?

— Thank you, and no, I’m Jungkook. - He shook hands with Honey.

The group kept a small talk, Honey having fun with them. Namjoon and Nya were lost watching the queens catwalking with stunning leotards. He was curious about her life, and looking for a way of asking what’s been bugging him the whole night.

— Nya, if it’s not crossing the line between professional and personal talk, how do you know that many people? - The purple-haired man asked, trying to sound chill.

— Well, it’s not professional, but I don’t care. - Nya turned to him, but looking at his neck, not straight on eyes. - I know them because of my father. See, not everyone can live off of their dreams, and my daddy was one of those people. He was a genius comedian, kind of like an underground Jerry Lewis. I never got to meet my mother, so I was raised by him and most people you guys met tonight. Also, I lived my whole life in Las Vegas so it’s something like my neighbourhood.

“Whilst my father did his stand up sessions, sometimes he dropped me with friends. Most times it was here, in Paris. Honey Dejour is basically a mother. If I’m someone with so many connections it’s because I had a gypsy life. During day at school, ‘cuz daddy worked as bartender in Caesar’s Palace, comedy at night shift. He never reached the big casinos popularity level and gave up, but he was so funny. Never had his thunder, though. That’s why I want you guys to help my friends, so they won’t give up as well.”

— Whoa. It’s quite personal, thank you for sharing. - Namjoon smiled at her, showing dimples and a bright set of teeth.

— You shared a bit of your life with me as well. - Nya felt her heart melt a little everytime Namjoon smiled, specially at her directly.

They kept staring at each other, getting closer, as if a magnetic force attracted them. Hands touched and pinkies intertwined, but before they could kiss, Jungkook pulled Namjoon’s arm and yelled gladly.

— HONEY AGREED IN HELPING US GET IN DRAG!

— Great, but what does it have to do with me? - Namjoon raised one eyebrow already sensing the danger.

— You are getting in drag too, dumbass. - Yoongi grunted, a bit thwarted. Apparently Jungkook convinced him of accepting, not something voluntary.

— Oh Lord, give me strength. - Namjoon felt zero comfortable with the idea of using high-heels.

— Stop praying! You are an atheist. - Hoseok said, also pumped up like Jungkook.

— I don't see why dragging me up would be necessary. - Namjoon shrugged shoulders, not looking straight at anyone. - It should be something only for those who really want, and is capable of living it fully.

— How can you direct and show emotions from something you never tried? - Nya touched his shoulder lightly. - Maybe feeling like Moonchild for a while will help you to understand its essence.

— In other words. Don't knock it till you try it. - Yoongi, still not fully into the idea, tried to drag his friend to it. Perhaps, some motivation would bring them to the joy of snatching new experiences.

Namjoon still took a while to accept. Honey went and announced the next category before going back and receiving a half hearted smile from Kim Namjoon. Don't knock it till you try it, his brain repeated incessantly.

— I will do it, only for the experience. - He shook hands with Honey Dejour, as if making a business deal. - Hopefully I'll a pretty lady.

— With your body structure, I can make Liu Wen beg you for exercise tips, baby. - Honey blinked and pulled Namjoon by the hand previously shook.

- x - x - x - x -

“Category is… Streetstyle Drag” - Honey Dejour announced and the crowd applauded, some cheering, others singing and dancing to the song playing. Hoseok spinned like a ballerina, body straight and firm, spine erect, right leg tensioned enough to gather force and balance, whilst the left stood in a hook shape, arms in first position. His muscle memory never failing in reminding how to move. Jungkook received his idol title, but it doesn’t mean he was the only one aiming for that. Jung Hoseok tried and failed, no agency accepted his appliance tapes.

Although, art was a passion. Regardless of what type. Hoseok lived a whole life of drama, repressing, gargantuan levels of conservatism, a tall and skinny bisexual boy who spent his free time dancing, defying every narrow-minded in Gwangju and their stupid retrograde thoughts. The count itself had always been perspiting art and conceiting themselves for something their citizens fought, died and conquered over 30 years before, however when living off dancing, singing, painting or whatever, went from the core and not only a job, the reprimand could lead people into killing themselves.

Hoseok spent a lifetime of frustrations. When his last video for YG Entertainment was sent back with a denial e-mail, he decided to try another types of art. Working part-time as a street dance teacher and spending every coin received with art supply, he met a cinema student interested in painting: the rich and underestimated Kim Taehyung.

Jung would never forget how ethereal Taehyung seemed to be, on his expensive brown coat with fur, tight jeans and white Chuck Taylors. The lights formed a halo around his head, making the brown strands shine. What a first impression. By contrast, Hoseok with a plaid blue shirt, t-shirt stained with tint, sweatpants and overused Nike Airshots, gave a very endearing vision of him.

Once they finally began talking to each other, then it never stopped. Taehyung and Hoseok got along very well, similar interests made their bond grow stronger everyday, also Jung understood some aspects of Kim which no one even tried.

Taehyung was rich, therefore had everything but the essential: happiness. Nothing expensive bought was ever with his own money, every ounce and dime belonged to his family. Decided to drop off his parents command, Kim began working as an art teacher and even gaining only a few Wongs per week, living off of it felt amazing. Independence felt amazing.

Hoseok understood why buying cheap art supply and eating Cup Noodles made the younger man feel fulfilled, and decided to help, moved from his parents home and rented a small apartment with Taehyung.

It took them only a few weeks until they were making out on the couch, but a few months to definitely engage in a relationship. Hoseok and Taehyung attended the same college, and after graduating, keep on living in Korea, specifically in Gwangju, felt like a waste of time.

Moving to London was the last time Taehyung touched his inherited money.

Hoseok and Taehyung met Yoongi during a LGBT Parade in London. They got along pretty well, even both clearly representing the total opposite in comparison with Yoongi’s personality. They were fun and talented, after speaking to Namjoon, hiring them seemed the right thing to do.

Writing a script about LGBT folks, searching about Queer culture and being able to experience it, every single second of it felt like a dream to Hoseok. His younger self would never imagine walking in heels, dress and being characterized as a drag queen. Living in Gwangju limited his perception of world, but now, staring at himself in a mirror and checking how his eyeliner was lit, impossible situations felt like lack of vision. He envisioned Moonchild afterall.

Regardless of how happy he felt so far, Taehyung being there would only improve it all. However someone had to stay in London and take care of business. Their democratic way of deciding stuff (a.k.a rock, scissor, paper) established that Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, Jade and Emerson were the ones chosen to stay.

Spinning again, Hoseok felt how every fiber from the fabric held his figure, anchoring himself to reality. He was wearing a mid-length light-blue dress, a flowy kind of fabric, white high-heels and pantyhose. Of course he tucked (something no one imagined he knew how to do, except for Taehyung and Jimin, who were there when Jung did it for the first time and, of course, showed up at their living room looking like an eunuch), covered his eyebrows with glue and powder. Practicing what was learnt during 10 seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race.

Whilst Hoseok was having an internal realization, Yoongi gave up on dressing up and decided to use his own clothes, but still kept the wig and makeup. He was looking good with black eyeliner, mascara, contour and purple lipstick, also the curly, long black wig really made him taller.

Jungkook tried to fit himself in a corsage, but failed, so kept his skirt and put on a white cropped, plus a pair of 10cm high heels. He indeed looked good, makeup on point, killing eyelashes and a long black wig (“Do I look like Park Bom?”).

Honey Dejour wasn’t lying when she promised to make Namjoon look pretty, but Nya could never imagine how gorgeous the result would be.

After a lot of work, Namjoon showed up in a long red dress, topped with a silk kimono and red heels, making the already tall man look like Empire State Building. Honey decided to make him embrace his facial shape, so a short black wig was chosen. Every trace and detail planned to highlight his features.

— Damn it, Namjoon! I think I’m attracted to you! - Yoongi exclaimed.

— Shut up, Yoonji. - Namjoon felt his face getting warm, glad that all layer of makeup made him look unfazed. - By the way, now I’m Sailor Joon.

— Did you just name yourself after Sailor Moon? C’mon sis, I’m the nerd one! I’m Sailor Kook! - Jungkook protested profusely.

— Why are you guys fighting? There are plenty of Sailors in that cartoon. You guys can both be Sailor Joon and Kook. - Nya rolled her eyes in a condescending way. - I’m sure Yoonji and Jay Hope agree with me.

— Since you named me, now I’m your drag daughter. - Hoseok giggled and wrapped one of his arms around Nya’s shoulder. - Hi momma!

— Only over my dead body! - Honey showed up, carrying brown paper bags with their clothings, throwing them at its respective owner. - I’m your drag mom, Jay Hope. I built you, I reclaim you. And Jungkook, you are Scarlet Kook, Sailor Kook sounds like a brand of breakfast cereals, and I’m for sure not hosting a Cap’n’ Crunch realness Ball.

After discussing and complimenting each other’s look, Honey Dejour decided they should catwalk as well (“I didn’t sweat and put four grown men in drag for nothing. I gotta exhibit my work”). So she pulled Nya outside the backstage, bringing a chair with her, the woman was now a judge. The music stopped because a new category was about to be announced.

— Category is… - Honey stared straight at the backstage. - First Time in Drag Realness. I introduce my newborn daughter, Scarlet Kook!

When “Sissy That Walk by RuPaul” began playing, Jungkook walked from behind the curtains, hips swaying from left to right, feeling himself again and being applauded. Of course, his legs were tense, and visually speaking, he looked a bit insecure up on high heels, yet Jeon Jungkook nailed his catwalk, loving every second of it: the lights, the cheers, the feeling.  At the backstage, his heart pounded against ribcage, almost climbing its way up to his throat.

— Every mother has a rebel daughter. Oh believe me, I have a whole bunch of them. - The music was lowered so Honey could speak. - Now, please applaud my other newborn daughter, Min Yoonji!

The music got louder again. Yoongi opted for not strut, fearing the fall and how humiliating it would be, mainly with so many eyes focused on him. Why did he agreed on it anyways? Even not being a proper catwalk, the way he walked down and stopped in front of the judge’s table fitted his description: a rebel daughter. The cheers flustered him, yet it was a nice experience.

— Please prepare your hearts and hold your wigs, ladies, ‘cuz my daughter ain’t here to play. - Honey Dejour smiled bright to a camera taking pictures around and got back to her role as hostess. - I give you… JAAAAAY HOPE!

“Crazy In Love by Beyoncé” began playing and Hoseok left the backstage channeling his inner diva. Hips swaying, one foot after other, wig moving with the wind. Jay Hope was fierce, gorgeous and confident. The dress flowing and spotlights making everything almost divine. Walking down the runway and being applauded brought a pack of mixed emotions.

Jung Hoseok felt loved and accepted.

Not that his friends and gay community in London never loved him, but for the first time being bisexual, enjoying arts and being his grinning, delicate self felt truly right. Hoseok hated stereotypes and how people assumed stuff about him out of his preferences, so for a good part of his days on earth were wasted trying to prove ‘em wrong. Yes, I’m bisexual and date another man, but I don’t do ballet and don’t use skirts. After walking down the catwalk, all his pre-concepts about being LGBT in a mutable world changed.

Why prove everyone is wrong, when they are clearly right? They are right, but it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. They are wrong for thinking it’s right to reduce people based on their sexuality, hobbys, abilities, etc.

As Lady Gaga said in Born This Way: “Don't hide yourself in regret. Just love yourself and you're set. I'm on the right track, baby. I was born this way”.

In the end, getting in drag proved to be more than just a costume, or a persona, it was a whole political statement.

Jung Hoseok was loving himself.

After arriving back behind the thick curtains, Hoseok felt tears stream down his face. Moments of output, everyone should have one of these. It’s amazing to finally realize and accept something about yourself, once you do it, regardless of what it is, then other aspects of your life slowly adapts to your new vision.

— Last, but not least, I introduce you my newborn daughter. - Honey grinned slightly at how Nya’s face lit up with expectation. - She is tall, she is gorgeous, she is smart and she snatches hearts. I give you… Sailor Joon!!

Perhaps Honey planned it beforehand while teaching Namjoon how to tuck (by the way, he felt like his balls were in his stomach, but still found it a useful skill). In the moment she finished speaking, “I Am The Best by 2NE1” began playing and Sailor Joon decided to try walking in the rhythm. Halfway through the runway, feeling his legs shaking and sweating dumps because of how much effort was put only in walking.

Kim Namjoon, a grown ass man, empathized with babies learning how to walk.

The heels were high and hard to keep stead, his legs were long and couldn’t be seen under the dress, so Namjoon could only feel them touching each other. Beside not being able to see where he was stepping. Is that the right equation to a concussion? Absolutely.

Even lasting only a few minutes, it felt like hours of walking and when Namjoon finally attained himself to the judge’s table, his legs somehow tangled on each other and his fall was almost epical. If Homer witnessed Kim Namjoon nosediving from the top of 12cm high heels, he would probably write a rhapsody about it. A tall building being demolished, that’s what watching him hitting the cold hard ground felt like.

Namjoon saw his legs going up and suddenly his head crashing against the wooden floor. Everything blacked out for a few seconds, maybe of embarrassment or because the fall was actually titanic. Honey and Nya showed up to help him getting on his feet again and also guided him to backstage, where Jungkook wrapped an arm around hyung. The woman also sneaked behind him and found a chair under piles of fabrics, sitting him down and watching the way Kim propped his head back and covered his face with one hand, mouth still tasting like blood.

— I want an alcohol beverage and pretend I don’t exist. I’d really appreciate if everyone respected my final demands.- Namjoon babbled, still feeling his mind spinning. - Also, some ice would be great.

— Let me grab the drink and some ice. - Yoongi wisely offered, since he was the only one not wearing heels.

Five minutes and not a word was spoken. Honey Dejour had to stay and announce the winners from every category. Everyone stared at Namjoon looking like he fought with his heels and was defeated. Still ashamed and cursing at himself for what occurred. Yoongi emerged from the crowd holding a glass with whiskey and ice in a plastic bag.

Sipping on the whiskey and holding the bag of ice over the new wound. Heels left aside, he wanted to burn them, but since it belonged to Honey Dejour, only taking off seemed decent enough.

After half an hour, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook went outside to party, leaving Nya and Namjoon alone. Still silent, absorbing the fall, the rise and the whiskey.

— How’s your head? - Nya asked, sitting on the ground beside Namjoon, one of her hands leaning over his clothed knee.

— I haven’t had any complaints. - Namjoon replied grinning, still a bit grumpy, but the alcohol was soothing his pain away. Or was it the ice?

They stood there, smiling and silently appreciating each other’s company. Even though the song was making his head latches a little, he would never ruin the night for everyone else. Staying there and drinking something was good enough. Also Namjoon had zero intention of leaving the backstage, not after almost staining the wood with his brain and blood.

Namjoon’s hand slided from his chest and reached for Nya’s one. They held hands and stared at each other for a while. She wanted to kiss him, but making him fall again would be cruelty [ha, pun intended!]. Odds seemed to be at her favour, ‘cuz after a few more seconds, himself bent down, the fingers previously intertwined, now holding her chin lightly and their lips connected in a liplock.

Fireworks! Party! Confetti! Nya wanted to jump and punch fists in the air, but enjoying the moment felt more appropriate. Slowly, lips opened and tongues connected, however, Namjoon’s position wasn’t quite comfortable so he got back up, but smiling at her. Dimples, those dimples!

They instinctively stood on their feet, the bag of ice being left aside. His cold hand made Nya feel goosebumps, but her arms still wrapped around Namjoon’s waist, whilst his hands held her face. They kissed once again, now actually losing themselves and allowing mouths to open, tongues to tangle and hormones flowing freely.

Such a romantic moment, which was interrupted by Yoongi, Jungkook and Hoseok coming back cackling. Namjoon and Nya separated, pretending to be doing nothing, however Min Yoongi saw and looked at his friend with disapproval.

— What time is it now? - Nya questioned, hands stucking on her back pockets.

— Almost six in the morning. - Yoongi checked his phone quickly, and stared at Namjoon again. - I think it’s time for us to conclude the night and head back to hotel. I’m exhausted and Sailor Joon is probably needing some pain killers. We can go check thrift shops during afternoon.

— I agree. - Nya saw Jungkook and Hoseok pouting.

They returned the outfits to Honey Dejour, traded phone numbers (business still was a priority) and left, stopping a cab.

- x - x - x - x -

The group arrived at the hotel. Hoseok and Jungkook went to their shared room, Yoongi and Namjoon did the same, but the humour was catastrophically different between both groups. One was tired and sleepy, the other was tense and in verge of a discussion.

The rooms were big. Two double beds, cotton fiber bed sheets, fluff pillows and thick duvets. There was a bathroom, one wardrobe filled with towels, shampoos, conditioners, soaps (both liquid and bar). The television was big and connected on internet, so the lodgers could watch Netflix or Youtube.

Namjoon entered the bedroom and headed straight to the bathroom, bringing a towel and his pajamas. Taking a long time and leaving a trade of steam out of it, he laid down under the duvet, but Yoongi told him to stay awake. Apparently they had something to talk about.

— Man! It’s not right! - Yoongi yelled at Namjoon. - You can’t date someone, not while we have the fucking rope ready to hang us!

— What? Now I can’t make out with someone? It’s not like I’m proposing to Nya! We kissed! - Namjoon was sitting on his bed, using Ryan pajamas, ready to sleep, but still arguing with Yoongi. - We met in person 12 hours ago, I'm not in love or obsessed with her!

— You are not in love with her YET! Beside, I would extract your brain through the nose and yeet it in a trash can if you somehow fell for someone in 12 hours of wandering around Las Vegas! - The man felt really frustrated, his temples almost visually pulsing. - You can fuck with every single human being around Las Vegas, and I wouldn’t care! I’m not your dick! But Nya is our guide, she is working for us! Also, you are getting attached, but know pretty well how things will turn! - Yoongi was also sitting on his own bed, common white pajamas and wet hair. - You are not the kind of guy who dates someone! You have affairs and get tired! I know you for a decade, man! I’m sick of seeing you dumping people and becoming grumpy! That project we are searching for places to film is important. It can save our finances! But if you get involved now, the break up will probably happen one week before we start filming. Everytime it happens, the movie becomes shitty because of your humour! And Kim Namjoon, I swear, I won’t allow you to ruin this. Not this time!  Not after your dramatical break up with Barbara and the critics detonating our movie. Hoseok and Taehyung worked way too hard on that script, only for your horny ass not pay a jot attention to it!

— Go fuck yourself, Yoongi! - Namjoon had nothing to say. Yoongi was right, he knew it, but would never admit it. Never in a million years.

— You fucking know I’m right! - Yoongi pronounced harshly, drops of spit flying from his mouth. - If you end up getting into Nya now, you are going to make a shitty movie after breaking up! You surrender yourself easily, and I don’t care most times, but after our last movie, we need to have you 100% focused.

— I’m focused. I was the only one not punchy! I accepted to be dressed up! I’m 100% into the project! I could marry and divorce someone, that it wouldn’t affect how I’m going to direct! - Namjoon was now spitting too, with rage and frustration. - You, Min Yoongi, are not the only one worried sick about finances and hating the idea of possibly working for some cocky entrepeuner with a big company.

— If you for yourself don’t stop hitting on Nya, then I’ll end it myself. - Yoongi assumed a gloomy expression, his body language screaming discomfort, with a hand covering his face, legs moving incessantly and ears getting red. - I ain’t gonna allow you and your romantic ass to ruin my career, business and life.

— You are preposterous. - Namjoon whispered in disappointment and laid down again, covering his head with the duvet, finishing their argument in the most childish way possible.

To be continued...

[biscuit-drivels]

tagged by @lennuieternel, thank you my dear!!! I feel like I haven’t been tagged in ages and this seems like such a fun summer tag! #philosophical summer™

tagging: @lady-lavandula

~ What movies do you wish you were a character in?

memoirs of a geisha, spirited away (I left these from the previous answer, because I agree!! They represent a world so different from my usual life, that one can only wish to belong to them) When I was a child I was naive (and kind of a masochist). I dreamed about attending an all girl boarding school with strict principles as in my beloved Hungarian novel (and ofc, there is a movie too) -Abigél. Well, fate works in twisted ways, I got what I wanted except the all girl part. I am living in a dorm and thanks to my strict uni, I spent the entire exam season (and most of the school year) as a monk - eating, praying and studying. I am so glad that I can enjoy my summer vacation and finally get to have some leisure time!! 

~ Create your dream fragrance; what would be the ingredients and the name?

Thanks to my sensitive olfactory system I can’t really enjoy most of perfumes, but I am fond of smell of gasoline (tho you can’t use that in a perfume :DDDD) and even of cigarettes. I am not a habitual smoker, I was just surrounded by them during various parts of my life... My driving instructor who was sweet and patient with me. The old ex-friend that shared vanilla scented cigaretes with me. Sneaking out of family gatherings with bro to go outside for a smoke under the summer sky. They became precious memories now, even if those times already disappeared like smoke. Also, this quote from The Lover by Marguerite Duras sums it up pretty well:

“He smells pleasantly of English cigarettes, expensive perfume, honey, his skin has taken on the scent of silk, the fruity smell of silk tussore, the smell of gold; he’s desirable.” Oy, add the Lover on the list of movies I want to be a character in. He truly was the ideal lover. Sweet, shy and elegant. It is kind of heartbreaking how bad she had treated him.

~ As a siren, what bewitching song would you sing to lure people to their doom?

Well, it would be fun to have them risk their life for Britney Spears’ “Toxic”, wouldn’t it? It isn’t perfect, but Sia’s “My Love” is the most ballad like from the songs I have been listening to lately. It has kind of siren-like charm to it. Especially the lines:

My love, leave yourself behind Beat inside me, leave you blind My love, you have found peace You were searching for release You gave it all, into the call You took a chance and You took the fall for us Tonight you will sleep away You will wait for me my love I know in peace you'll go I hope relief is yours Now I am strong (Now I am strong) You gave me all You gave all you had and now I am home My love, leave yourself behind Beat inside me, I'll be with you It sounds so poetic and sweet! And it’s from Twilight soundtrack. *evil laugh*

~ *Clicks shoes together three times* Anywhere in the world (fantasy or reality) where would you go?

To see the sea with my bosom friend (lav, I am talking about youu ♥). Go cow petting in Switzerland. Take a train (or a forest train) going anywhere. The other options are: Spend a week in a villa in Italian countryside. Explore South Korean cuisine (their shows are killing me, I want to taste all that yummy food!!) And lately I wish to ride a roller coaster or bungee jump in some popular amusement park. 

~ Similar to Harry Potter, if you could reside in a painting, which one would you choose?

well, if I were trapped in a painting, I think it would be better to be the only inhabitant. I pick a painting of the countryside. Impressionism is the best for this. But my beloved Degas wouldn’t be the right pick - his work is beautiful, but living with ballerinas would be terribly noisy and the same goes for the railway station paintings. Monet is the man! Let me chill between flowers.

~ Like the symbols associated with the Greek gods and goddesses; what would be your chosen symbol/s to embody you as a person? (eg: some symbols of Aphrodite are dove and sparrows)

a dark horse. a sword. a red rose. (tbh, I feel like I am picking an outfit for conqueering medieval France :DDD)

~ If you were to create your own met gala theme, what would it be based on?

memento mori / summer nights 

~ What seven objects would you choose to hide a fragment of your soul in? (The horcruxes)

a music box playing “Once upon december”, a book that no one reads, family jewelry (voldie was clever, it gets passed around every generation), a painting in a museum, a famous statue or monument (so it will be hidden there for quite a while), ... this is too hard, so let’s make it 5. 

~ Your whistling while you work, what animals would you like to come and join you?

cats!! they are true wanderers and the best companions.

~ Like the story of Swan Lake; what mythical creature/beings from folklore would you like to transform into by day?

A goblin so I can make gold bars and thus don’t have to worry about my income anymore. 

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

if you're still taking those prompts :D "Dance with me!"

He would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but when he was a child, he had dreamed of nights like these. 

There had been snowy days and freezing nights where he had stood perilously on top of crates, blowing hot air between numb fingers and peering into great homes through frosted windows. They had been like storybooks, like paintings, like the displays at the toy shoppes he had never been allowed into: grand rooms filled with light, musical notes spilling out underneath the cracks of windows and doors, and piles of food so immense that his stomach still cramps when he thinks of them.

And the people, the people, all wrapped in bright brocade silks trimmed with fur and golden thread; long trains dragging across polished marble; sparkling jewels and coiffed hair; men, just as beautiful as the ladies, bowing over gloved hands and leading their partners to the center of the room to sway and spin and laugh and whisper secrets to.

It had looked like so much fun.

“Come on,” Master tugs his arm. “I see Lady Herith.”

Obi sighs, dragged forward through the press. The fragrance of sweat and perfumes is so cloying and oppressive it kills his appetite, the heat of the ballroom so stifling he wants to find a window to hang his head out of. His back itches, sweaty under wool and the weight of eyes picking him apart piece by piece. 

Who would have thought that being in here would feel so much like being on the auction block?

“Oh, Your Highness!” a matronly woman gushes, fluttering her eyelashes coyly underneath the weight of her curls. She must have been a great beauty in her day - he had heard Lata speak highly of all the Herith sisters - but the years had made her go soft and wrinkled like aged fruit. At her side, a slip of a young woman with rouged cheeks smiles demurely, the pull of her lips dimpling her cheeks. “I had not heard you were looking to be matched.”

“I’m not,” Master laughs, pulling him forward when he would rather run away. “I’m here to introduce my Knight. Sir Obi, Lady Herith.”

Lady Herith’s smile falters, just for a moment - an immediate knight to the royal family is a decent catch for a Lady, he’s told, but not nearly as good as a Prince who may soon be Duke Wilant - before gracing Obi her most genial smile. “Sir Obi?” she ducks her head. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Lilith.”

Obi gives it his all, falling into the rehearsed movements that Master and Sir had spent the last three nights drilling into him. “It’s my pleasure,” he bows, peeking up at her from beneath his lashes.

“Sir Obi,” she murmurs, eyes averted.

He withdrawals. Perhaps she’s shy.

“This is Obi’s first season,” Master claps him on the back, jarring him. “Perhaps you will have a chance to speak at length later.”

“Of course,” Lady Herith nods, snapping open her fan. Ah, he wishes he had one of those.

“Would Sir Obi have an opportunity to dance later on in the evening?” Lilith’s voice is small, dainty like the music from a ballerinas jewelry box. It makes Obi smile - she’s so young still. Too young to be saddled with someone like him.

He rests his hand upon his breast. “Perhaps, My Lady, if my Master would give me but a moments rest.”

Her cheeks blossom prettily. Her mother, however, hisses sharply through her teeth.

“Excuse us,” Master is tugging at his collar now, yanking with enough strength to convince him to go easily. He’s already coughing by the time they are half way across the room.

“Why must you be like this?” Master huffs, grabbing the both of them a drink from a passing tray.

Obi smiles, tugging at the pulls at his neck. “I was only answering the Lady’s question.”

“You don’t-” Master pinches the bridge of his nose and looks up towards the ceiling as if it might provide him guidance. “This is my fault. We shouldn’t have rushed it.”

Obi frowns, taking his glass. For the life of him, he can’t figure out-

“I should be here by next season,” he continues and, presumably finding no answer in the painted stars above, searches for answers in his cup. “Until then, I’ll ask Forenzo to train you in court manners.”

Obi almost spits out his drink. “Master!” he laughs. “Don’t tease me like that!”

Master’s brow furrows, like it has many times these last few days. He’ll get wrinkles if he keeps doing it. “I’m not. It’s something I should have done when you first started getting marriage proposals.”

It is a rare occasion when he is well and truly surprised, and this time, it hits him like a bucket of ice water. It was one thing to have matchmaking sessions in Lyrias, but to have people asking for him in Wistal? “How long have I- When did you…?”

Master waves his hand. “Never mind. There’s nothing to be done about it now.” He smiles, fond and exasperated. “I’ll ask Makiri if there is someone he can recommend to get you up to speed if Lata is unavailable.”

~ ~ ~

Obi has spent his life clinging to the shadows, hiding in plain sight, and ducking into alcoves to avoid detection. He thought he could handle anything. But, he has come to find, all of his years of training has not prepared him for the insistence of young women of marrying age.

“Sir Obi-”

Master has left him alone, searching out Miss in this sea of suitors, and never before has he felt so much like raw meat thrown into shark infested waters.

“Sir Obi-”

He pretends not to hear it, turning and slipping in-between the press of bodies.

“Wait, Sir Obi!”

Another sends him ducking under a waiters tray, around a column.

Whoever gave him the impression that these events were fun, were magical, were something to aspire to was obviously off their rocker.

“Obi.” An arm laces through his. “Stop making a scene.”

He blanches, caught, half way towards throwing this newest suitor into the buffet table and leaving Clarines for good when he looks down, meeting calm violet eyes beneath a perfectly coiffed crown of gold.

“Miss Kiki,” he breathes, tension pouring out of him. “Where is your escort?”

“Everyone here knows who I am,” she hums, and the crowd parts before her like it never did for him. “Mitsuhide is chaperoning Shirayuki.”

Obi scans the room quickly - Sir is easy enough to find, even among the North, and the crowds thins enough to show him smiling, laughing gently at something Master is saying, Miss smiling between the two of them.

His heart twists at how lovely they look together, how perfect, and he drags his eyes away. He shouldn’t be feeling these things, especially not when Master is at her side. When they’re so close to accomplishing their goal. “Has Miss-?”

“-had many suitors approach her?” Kiki finds them a spot along the wall to breath. “A few. Not as many as she should.”

Obi frowns. “What do you mean?”

“She’s a good match for a number of men in this room,” Kiki says, nodding towards a passing nobleman with a partner hooked around his arm. “But there are reasons few are willing to brave approaching her.”

Master.

Obi fetches himself a drink, the third for the night. After this, Master and Sir insisted he was permitted no more. “And you?” he asks, handing Kiki her own.

She smiles, faint, with just the hint of teeth. “They don’t want to embarrass themselves.”

He frowns, but doesn’t speak. She knows what he wants to ask - what they all want to ask. But he won’t be the one to do it.

“It is easier when my father escorts me,” she says against the flute of her cup. “He is able to handle suitors with far more… grace than I am.”

“Why Miss Kiki,” he drawls. “If you’re still looking for a husband, you could call me anything you li-”

“No.”

Obi grins into his glass.

The conversation trails off again and it’s- nice, being around a person who understands silence as much as he does, even in the midst of so much noise.

“Why are you here?” she asks quietly. “You don’t have a family name to prop up and I can’t see you marrying for money.”

Obi swirls his drink. “I wonder.”

There’s a sharp pain at his shin and he hisses, glaring over at her as he rubs the hurt. “I take that marriage proposal back.”

“Good,” she deadpans, eyes never leaving the room. “Now answer.”

Obi’s heart sinks, as heavy a lead. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins haltingly. “That it’s been nice… belonging somewhere.” He glances over at her, watching her face for something- anything, really- 

“And?” she presses.

Obi swallows. “And I’ve also been thinking… what would it mean belonging indefinitely.”

That brings her pause. Kiki finally looks at him - really, looks at him - blinking, slow and… approaching understanding. 

“Maybe not belonging to a place but-” he rushes, looking back across the room where Mistress Haki has found the crowd, another young lady at her side. Sir looks delightfully uncomfortable and Miss covers her mouth to hide her smile.

“-To someone,” Kiki finishes.

Obi swallows thickly. “Yea.”

~ ~ ~

“Was it worth it?” Obi asks, soft and quiet, many minutes later. “In the end?”

Kiki doesn’t say anything. For the longest time he thinks she won’t say anything at all. The music and clattering of glassware and swell of voices is so loud between them, maybe she didn’t even hear him.

Master swoops by, Mistress Haki on his arm. They are dazzling and beautiful and every thread of them is something he will never be.

Obi’s heart lodges itself in his throat and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Obi,” he turns towards her and Kiki is smiling, but she’s not looking at him. “Shirayuki doesn’t have a dance partner.”

He looks to her, blinking rapidly and she- she’s right. Miss is sitting alone, watching the ballroom with dazed eyes, cheeks flushes and beautiful and everything he could possibly-

Obi tips back his glass and the alcohol burns the whole way down. “Goodnight, Kiki.”

He steps forward, one step closer to her, one step away from who he might have been.

“Good luck.”