#obviously most of them are worn in winter

[raspberrybluejeans]

i have begun to implement my seasonal clothes plan. i went through all my t-shirts (rough category, including some long sleeve tees and some tank tops) and i have almost 60 of them 💀💀💀

It will definitely be nice to have these divided up lol

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Boss

Mob!Nico Hischier x Reader

Previous

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, Nico and reader fight a lot

A/n: Ok this one has a lot going on but I couldn't just skip over reader and Nico recovering from her being taken. The next chapter will be much sweeter, I swear!

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

For the whole trip, every time Nico closed his eyes he could see it perfectly. The mountains in the back, snow capped and beautiful. You love the mountains in the winter, love the snow.

He’d make sure you’re wearing that cute red and white snowsuit you love, the one he’d gotten you for snowmobiling last year. He was gonna take you to get your nails done, help you pick out a cute pearly white color and then sit with you and let them paint a clear coat on his own finger nails and do the whole hand massage and oil thing. And he was gonna act like he hated it, like he was doing you a favor when I reality he loved it. All because it made you smile.

Then he was gonna take up the gondola, let you take selfies with him kissing your cheeks or squishing your cheeks together. Dinner at the resort, fancy and expensive and beautiful, all things you deserve.

When the sun started to set, alpenglow hitting the peaks of the mountain you’d have the perfect view from the private table. And he get down on his knee, just like you asked, and pull out the ring he’d had made specifically for you by the watchmaker he loves, and tell you everything. Tell you how much he loves you, how you steady him and make everything seem so easy, how you quiet his mind and make his heart race, how you took a stupid, rich teenage boy and turned him into a man he is proud to be.

And he’d ask you to marry him. And you’d say yes, obviously. He’d slide the ring on and kiss you, hold your pretty face between his palms until the sun set and he could take you home, kiss you even more. Spread you out on the bed and fuck you until the sun rose again in the morning.

It was going to be perfect.

He thinks of that as he stares at your left hand, ring finger bare and cold in his palm. This time tomorrow and you would’ve had your ring, the third item to solidify not only your place in his life, but in the Devs.

That’s the order him and the others agreed on for partners year ago. The pendant of the Devil, to show that you’re protected by them. The ring engraved with your name and little flames, always worn on the right pinky by members but anywhere on the body for partners. Yours sits around the chain on your neck, clinks against the pendant. It shows that you’re one of them, a member of the family.

And finally the wedding ring, the thing that gives you his last name and his power. It shows his love for you. The most important one of all.

The sudden blimp of the heart monitor scares him, has him jolting to his feet and squeezing your hand as he looks to the screen. Your heart rates keeps spiking, beeping loudly in the room and he manages to catch your right hand as you reach up for your neck.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he quickly soothes, preventing you from touching the brace the doctors strapped around your neck.

Your eyes are wide and terrified when they meet his, gaze darting between his eyes in confusion and panic. Your lips part to speak but he shushes you before you do.

“No baby don’t talk, it’s ok.” He squeezes your hands, brings them back down to the hospital bed. “You’re just a little swollen, ok? The brace is to help bring it down.”

He waits for you to calm down, the monitor slowing back to normal before letting go. You inhale shakily through your nose, breath quivering when you exhale.

Smoothing your hair down, he rests his free hand against the side of your head and looks you over. Despite the bandage on your forehead and the puffiness of your eyes, you look so beautiful. If he ignores the brace and the cotton, you don’t even look hurt.

His heart squeezes.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” he whispers, feeling physically itchy with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should’ve listened to you and taken you right home.”

Tears build up in your waterline, taunting him and he starts shaking his head. He really does not want to see you cry.

“Sorry,” you whisper instead, voice raw and hoarse. He’s not sure if you’re even supposed to be talking, the doctors didn’t tell him. “I know better, should’ve stayed with you.”

Chest aching, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, being mindful of any injuries he may bump. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better, yeah? You can tell me what happened.”

He pulls back to see you stiffly nod, as best you can around the brace. Wiping away the stray tear on your cheek, he huffs out a breath and tries to relax.

It’s impossible.

“I’m gonna get a nurse,” he steps back, turning to find the call button. Your hand latches around his like a vice, body jolting up in the bed and he freezes, finger hovering over the phone symbol.

You look a little confused by your own actions, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, but your eyes tell him everything. They always have.

You’re scared.

A part of him melts knowing that in moments of fear you want him, that you see him as safety and protection. It’s not anything new, but Nico likes the reminder. It means he’s doing something right.

The rest of him just feels angry. He’s so fucking angry that he let this happen, that he let his stubbornness and rejection get you hurt.

“M’right here,” he swears, “was just gonna use the call button.”

Sheepishly, you nod and lay back against the pillows, watchful gaze following him as he presses on the button.

The nurse enters your private room, smiling when she sees that you’re up and coherent. Nico has to let go of your hand so she can check your vitals again but he stays planted right next to your head, watching over you.

She takes your blood pressure, asking you about how you’re feeling and letting you know that you can try to speak normally. There’s no drastic damage to your vocal cords, and use will help make sure you get your voice back.

Nico listens in but takes a second to text Timo and his family that you’re awake and talking. He’s not sure where Luca has taken Marcelo and Lena, but he assumes his brother will find time to stop by and let him know.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He puts his phone away, immediately tuning back into the conversation. The nurse is shining a light in your eyes, your dark pupil following it but he sees the confusion that clouds them all the same.

“I was at a party,” you reply, clearing your throat and wincing. You take a second to think, blinking when the nurse turns the light off. “I was at a party and-and I was mad at Nico and I didn’t know what anyone was saying…”

Nico thinks of Anna and her friends, confused because he knows she would translate for you and make sure to speak you to in English. Part of the reason he was ok with separating from you was because he trusts her to be watchful.

“I just needed a second of quiet so I went outside…” you continue “and then I remember a lot of blood and feeling really sick. And Nico was there.”

It’s terrible but he relaxes a bit after hearing that. Obviously it’s not great that you don’t remember; that means your head injury was pretty bad, but on the other hand he doesn’t want you remembering that.

It’s bad enough you remember him shooting Lena.

“Ok, good.” The nurse compliments. “That’s a great start. It’s typical that as you recover more memories will come back to you. There’s not really a time table for when but just keep that in mind.”

She goes over a few more things with you, making sure Nico is listening since you might have trouble remembering. He waits for her to leave before pulling out his phone, writing down the reminders in his notes apps even though he knows he won't forget.

He tucks it back in his pocket, looks up to see you watching him with sad eyes. "You look miserable," you say, reaching out towards him. Stepping closer, he lets you take a hold of his arm and pull him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't think you'd remember me shooting Lena," he explains "I don't like when you see those things."

Your hand runs up his bicep and around his shoulder, finding the ends of his hair on the nape of his neck. "I'm glad," you say, a tiny smile on your lips. "I hate her."

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling a bit too.

"Did you kill her?"

He shakes his head. "Marcello?"

"No, not sure what Luca did with them yet."

You go quiet, fingers playing with his hair but your eyes get that far away look in them. "I get to do it," you finally murmur, eyes flickering up to his face. He can't stop the look of surprise on his face, eyebrows shooting up.

"If you decide to do something, I get to do it. At least to Marcello."

"No," Nico immediately declines, impressed by your request but not even considering it. "I'm not putting your prints on anything around that."

"You don't get to decide." you argue, eyes narrowing into a threatening look. "I'm the one laying in the hospital bed, I get to decide."

He scoffs back a laugh, feels the scold on the tip of his tongue because he's in charge, not you. Yeah he lets you pull him around a lot, but when it comes to people from his past, in his home country, hurting you? That's his to deal with.

"M'not budging on this y/n," he says instead "and I'm not fighting with you about it. I don't want you near them."

Your mad, he knows that. Can tell by the bratty way you roll your eyes, your hand falling from his hair as you cross your arms over your chest and turn your glare to the window. Even the tick of your jaw, knows your biting at the inside of your cheek.

Luckily the tension between you two is cut after a moment because Timo comes barreling into the room with a bag of goodies and Nico's siblings following behind him.

"Bestie boo," he cheers, and Nico rises from the bed to get out of the way. He doesn't miss the way you light up, all the fight in you dissipating as you too grin at Timo.

He begins to dump out the contents of the bag, a few drinks and snacks that you like, a fuzzy blanket from Nico's room back at the house and some clothes for you. Nico shakes his head, moving over to hug Nina and Luca.

"How's she doing?" Nina asks him quietly, glancing over at you and Timo. Luca leans in, wanting to listen in without letting you overhear.

"She's ok," Nico sighs, "been through worse but she's scared and a little confused still. Doesn't really remember what happened before we got there."

Nina frowns sympathetically. "Did she ask-"

"Yeah, she asked about them." He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "She wants to take care of Marcello but I don't want her near them so we gotta do it before she's released tomorrow."

Luca's eyes widen, an amused smile splitting his face. "Really? I underestimated her little bro. Maybe we should let her-"

"No."

"Come on Nico, its her right-"

"I said no." Both Luca and Nina step back at his tone, not used to hearing him like that. In all fairness, they haven't seen him this protective over something since he was 8 and found a stray cat on his walk home from school.

He clears his throat, rolls out the tension in his shoulders. "We're gonna do it tonight. Nina will stay here with her, make sure she's ok until I get back."

Zeroing in on his sister, he points back towards you. "Under no circumstance do you let her know what we're doing. And no matter how bratty and whiny she gets about it- because she will- do you sign her out early. I mean it Nina, no sisterhood here or whatever, she stays in that bed."

It's obvious she doesn't agree with him, the way she guiltily looks over his shoulder at you but either way she nods. "Understood, Nico."

"I'll tell Maja to come back her up," Luca says, "She won't crack like this one will."

Nico nods, thanking them before motioning over to you. The three siblings move closer, stand around the bed as Timo offers you his list of favorite movies to watch while your stuck in bed. You've laid the blanket out on your lap, the teddy bear from Nico's childhood bedroom squished under your elbow, and an open pint of Gelato in hand. Timo blabbers away, you lick at the spoon in hand, and just nod along.

You look happy. Eyes shining and cheeks smiling, and it's such a relief to Nico. Maybe he should leave Timo here with you, at least then you'll have a distraction you actually like. Unfortunately he needs his second hand man for this one, so you'll just have to deal.

Nina climbs up onto the bottom of the bed, adding her one thoughts on the movie Timo is gushing about and Luca takes over the chair at your bedside.

He smiles, reaches up to push back your hair and press the lightest kiss possible to your hairline. You ignore him, taking another bite of your dessert and laughing at something his sister says. Luca has dug out a spoon from somewhere, and he's reaching around Timo to steal from your pint.

You tilt it towards him, eyes widening when he takes a huge glob out and shoves it in his cheeks, smiling innocently. Nico can tell it'd coffee flavored now, your favorite, and he reaches for the spoon in your hand only for you to snatch it away.

Then your shooting him a cold look over your shoulder, simply tilting your head when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. You turn back towards Timo, ignoring how both Luca and Nina are looking between you two with concern.

He huffs, clicks his jaw and looks at his sister.

Brat, he mouths, shaking his head when you share a bite with Timo this time. What is he going to do with you?

~~~~

The nurse comes back a few hours later. Your squished on the bed with Nina, laptop hooked up to the TV and watching a movie about rowing that Timo really liked. Him and Nico have folded the couch down into a bed, and they're sprawled out on it eating chips watching as well. Luca fell asleep about ten minutes in, sock clad feet propped up on your bed and head rolled back on the chair.

You're all so engrossed in the movie you don't notice her at first. At least until the lights are flickering back on and everyone is temporarily blinded.

Shooting up like their asses are on fire, Timo clambers to his feet and pauses the movie. Nico rises, shoving his feet back in his shoes and walking over to you bedside.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just came to see how you're feeling and offer to take that brace for you."

Sighing out in relief. "Oh god yes please," you practically beg, sitting up. Nina slips off the bed and over by Timo, motioning for a bleary eyed Luca to follow. He yawns, smacks his lips before getting up and dragging his feet over.

"We're uh gonna step out." Timo offers, turning towards the door and pushing Nico's siblings out with him. He shakes his head, watches them all leave the room without their shoes.

"It must be nice, having so many friends around." The nurse comments, pulling on latex gloves.

"Yeah," you agree, "I'd be miserable laying here all day without them."

Nico stands over you again, protective and watchful as the nurse steps up to your side and reached towards the brace.

"It's gonna be sore and uncomfortable, but the swelling should be gone for the most part," she informs and you nod. "I am going to bring you an ice pack to keep on it just for comfort and it'll help with bruising."

You take a deep breath, nod again and her fingers latch on the velcro in the back. Squeezing your eyes shut, the sound of the velcro unsticking cuts through the room and you jump just the slightest bit.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining and you squeeze hard enough that your nails pinch at his skin. Not that he cares, not when the brace falls loose and away from your neck, and he's coming face to face with the lines of bruising.

It looks awful, all dark blue and purple. You wince, the column of your throat flinching and Nico thinks he might throw up. Fuck, he doesn't even know how you've been talking and laughing so much with that kind of injury.

Finally, you open your eyes and let out a shaky breath. Titling your head up, you let the nurse gently feel over the tender flesh. You squeeze his hand tighter, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

"You're hurting her," Nico grumbles, and the nurse removes her hands.

"I'm ok," you swear, "really you didn't have to-"

"Yeah you did," Nico cuts in, shooting you a warning look. "Let her at least ice it before you go poking around."

Pursing her lips, the nurse inhales and nods. "I'll be back with ice," she tells you, taking the brace with her. "but you're looking really good so far. It could've been a lot worse."

Neither you nor Nico speak until she's left the room. The door clicks shut and you're taking your hand out of his, instead tucking them under your arms.

"She's just doing her job," you mumble, staring ahead rather than at him. He huffs, annoyance bubbling under his skin and he rakes his hands through his hair.

"Ok you can be mad at me," he grits, "but you don't get to act like this. If you're gonna be a brat go ahead, but not in front of everyone like that. I'm trying to look out for you-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"You obviously can't!" He exclaims, a little harsher than he meant to but it gets the point across because you're actually looking at him right now. "Look at where we are, y/n. You couldn't take care of yourself, fuck even I couldn't take care of you."

Your eyes shift, realization setting in. "Nico..."

"Be mad at me, baby, please do but until we're back home I'm in charge. And I'm not taking any fucking chances."

His chest is heaving when he's done, guilt settling into the place of the anger when he looks at your stupidly soft eyes and the bruises that marr your skin.

You don't say anything for a moment, and he rubs at his forehead where he's got a headache building. "I want to take a shower," you finally say. "Will you sit in there with me?"

He nods. "Yeah of course."

~~~~

Timo, Luca, and Nina have returned to the room when Nico follows you out of the bathroom. Someone has made your bed for you, the fuzzy blanket you love laid out nicely with the teddy bear tucked against the pillows. You've changed into sweats and one of Nico's shirts, already feeling better now that you're clean and back in your own clothes.

You can tell the moment they register the bruises on your neck and the stitches on your forehead. It's like all the air is sucked out of the room, the sharp inhale of Nina rattling you.

Shrinking into yourself, you force a small smile as you climb back onto the bed. You can feel Nico glaring at them over your head, biting back a laugh when it has the same effect on his older siblings as it does his men. He's so good at bossing people around.

"It'll look better when I ice it," you say, combing through your damp hair. Nico runs a hand up your spine, gingerly holds the back of your neck.

"It looks fine now," he responds, "trust me, nothing could ever make you look not beautiful."

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze and smiling gratefully. He ducks down, kisses between your eyes before taking the brush for you and finishing untangling you hair.

"The only one of us that looks pathetic with bruises is Nico," Timo jokes, sending you a wink. "That's why they take months to go away on him."

"That and he's always pressing on them." You respond, giggling when Nico scoffs behind you.

"I forgot to tell him to grab your bathroom stuff," Nico changes the subject "so I don't have any of your hair products."

"That's ok-"

"I can braid your hair for you!" Nina offers, smiling widely. "I love to braid other people's hair and I never get to. "

You laugh. "Yeah okay!"

Nico moves out the way, handing the hair brush and a tie to his sister. She stands behind you, carefully dragging the brush through your hair again. Nico sits at the foot of the bed, watching his sister with apprehensive eyes.

"Watch out for her stitches Nina."

You roll your eyes. "I know Nico," she scoffs, "I am older than you, ya know?"

He holds his hands up in defense but stays exactly where he is. Thankfully Nina is really careful when she parts and braids your hair, leaving it loose so it'll still dry but also not pull at your stitches. The soothing motion of her fingers and Nico's protective gaze lull you, and by the time she's done your blinking sluggishly at your boyfriend.

"Alright," he grunts, rising from the bed. "I think it's nap time for you baby."

There's something off about him when he helps you slip under the blankets, tucking his teddy bear into your chest and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He exchanges an odd look with his brother before perching on the edge of the bed, cupping the side of your face in his warm palm.

You yawn, snuggle into his hold. "M'gonna put the TV back on for you, ok?"

Eyes fluttering, you nod.

"I gotta run for a bit but I'll be back before you know it. And you can call me if you need absolutely anything."

The thing about Nico is that he never likes to tell the full story. He's not usually like that with you but with the younger boys, yeah. And you can always tell when he does it because he gets all calm and sweet about it, more than he usually is. He also gets vague.

Which is how you know this run he is taking, obviously with his brother, is to take care of Lena and Marcello. Hurt, you sit up and look at him with knowing eyes, hoping he'll cave and tell you the truth.

Instead he clears his throat, looks down at his feet and then runs his hands over his thighs. "I uh, I put Luca's number in your phone too, just in case." He says, getting up and moving around the room to collect his things.

Crouching down, he hits play on the laptop for you. You look over at Timo, see the guilty pull on his face. Luca looks guilty too but when he meets your gaze, he winks and then sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"Good, get outta here." Nina cuts in, voice far too cheery to be believable. "We need girl time, I'm inviting Maja."

Nico's tucking his wallet back into his jeans pocket when he finally looks at you again, jaw ticking when you simply stare back at him with begging eyes. You want to yell at him, to cry, to tell him that you deserve to have a place in this. That you need this.

Instead you bite your tongue, turn your gaze to the window outside when your eyes sting, and silently wait for them to leave. You hear him sigh, then his footsteps as he heads towards the door. Timo is the only one to call out goodbye.

Feeling betrayed, you ignore them all, even Nina, and close your eyes. You have a headache again.

~~~~

You wake up from the insistent buzzing of your phone, sleep riddled brain assuming it’s Nico. When you read the screen it’s not in fact your boyfriend, but might as well be.

“Hey Holtzy,” you answer, looking around the hospital room. Nina and Maja are nowhere to be seen, but neither are Nico and Timo. Your stomach twists, anger bubbling in your throat.

“Oh god you sound awful,” he moans woefully. “I told Nico he should’ve let me go too. With three of us there you’d have been fine.”

“I am fine,” you insist, forcing a laugh. “It’s really not that bad, Nico is just dramatic.”

“Well yeah he’d probably die without you.”

Your heart warms. The boys used to always tell you how tough he was, how the only thing that kept them from messing up was that terrifying flare in his eyes when he’s pissed. It’s sweet that they point out how loving he is with you.

“You’d all die without me,” you reply, looking up as Nina and Maja enter the room. They carrying bags of food, Nina waving around the packages in greeting.

Forcing a smile, you gently wave back. If her and Maja are still here that means Nico is still gone. And it’s been hours. There’s only one thing a man that protective and angry can be doing for this long.

Wreaking havoc. Havoc you should be a part of. You bite your cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Alex agrees easily. He gets quiet for a moment. “Can I FaceTime you? Just to see that you’re ok?”

You melt. “Yeah of course.”

Pulling the phone back from your ear, you hit the FaceTime button. It rings for a half second and then a grainy picture of Alex pops up.

“Hi mom,” he greets, the picture coming into focus. He’s got that big, cheesy Alex smile on his face and it’s makes you laugh.

“Shut up,” you giggle, then realize the background behind him. “Are you in my room?”

Alex pulls the phone back, holding it up so you can see that he’s actually tucked under the blankets like he’s sleeping there. You catch a flash of the paws of the dog at his feet. At least you know he’s actually taking care of your baby.

“You asked me to house sit.”

“I thought you might sleep in the room I decorated and made for you.”

“I like your bed,” he shrugs, putting the phone back down. “And I miss you. And Nico too I guess but don’t tell him in your bed. Wait- he’s not listening right?”

You laugh again. “No he’s not here right now. I’m with his sisters.”

"He's not with you? That's fucked. I'll go out right now and sit there with you. So will Merc and Luke, they told me."

A part of you wants to say yes. "I'll be ok. You know how Nico is, I probably won't see him again until it's time to go home."

Alex makes a noise of disagreement. “Timo made it seem like you were dying, ya know? Like I thought we were about to be taken out to Switzerland to wage war, he was so angry.”

You shrug, flattered but mostly annoyed. “Yeah, I like that idea."

Alex hums, the line going quiet for a moment. “Well I’m really glad you’re ok,” he murmurs “and I’m sorry it happened to you. I can’t imagine how scary that would be.”

You shrug again. “I mean, worse has happened. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I got with Nico. It’s just a part of the life.”

“Crappy though, that it always happens to you.” He comments.

“Only twice,” you awkwardly laugh. “Besides, I got Johnny out of it the last time so.”

“So even though it was worse at least you got your Italian buddy.”

You nod, trying not to think about the run in with the Flyers all that time ago. Honestly, you’re lucky that as the girlfriend of a very powerful mob boss, you haven’t been taken and threaten more. You suppose that’s a testament to Nico and how he trains his men.

“Ok I know it’s late there so go to bed, yeah? I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Alex sighs but nods. “Ok, call me if you get sad or lonely.”

You bite back a laugh, knowing he’s the one that’s lonely and wants to talk but won’t admit it. “Of course,” you agree. “Night Holtzy.”

“Night y/n. Feel better.”

You wave, waiting for him to hang up first. When he does you drop your phone to the bed, expectantly looking over at the girls.

If they can read your gaze, they don’t say anything about it. Instead Maja tilts her head sympathetically. “How are you doing sweets?”

“Fine,” you respond, raising an eyebrow at Nina who is pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Nico still gone?”

Frowning, she looks at you guiltily. Her eyes look so much like Nico’s. “Yeah he’s still out.”

You nod, checking the time, wishing you were home. You already miss Alex. It's torture, sitting and stewing in this bed as you go over and over the words you should've told Nico. You feel helpless, almost as helpless as being tied to a fucking chair. Especially when you go to get up from bed and both Nina and Maja rise too.

They're under orders from Nico. They're your security guards. You almost roll your eyes, veins hot with rage and disbelief.

"I was just gonna go for a walk." You say.

"We'll come with!"

"No, that's ok," you decline, tilting your head, daring Nina to argue. "I have a headache and just need quiet. Besides your eating, I'll only be ten minutes."

She hesitates, shares a look with Maja but eventually they both settle back onto the couch. You think Nico and her might have underestimated how scary you can be when you're enraged.

Without another word, you grab and phone and make your way out of the room. You go slow, not wanting to worry them but truth is you feel fine aside from the head and neck pain.

Waiting until your a few corridors away from your room, you pull out your phone and pull up Luca's contact. You hit call, holding it up to your ear. It rings for awhile but he does pick up.

"Well hello there," he greets smugly. "I had a feeling this was coming."

You smirk, pleased to know you gauged him correctly. "Don't act too chummy, Nico will know it's me." You warn, looking around for Nina or Maja. No one has followed you.

"I need a favor."

You can hear his delighted smile even if you can't see it.

"Hit me with the plan, then."

~~~~

The plan comes through the next morning. Nico has yet to return from his "business" and you know he must be taking it seriously because he's yet to notice that late last night you had his jet fly to Newark and back, this time with your men onboard.

Luca, as the king of Switzerland, used his pull to get you discharged early, hours earlier than Nico had originally planned. You're already up and silently packing your things when the doctor comes in with the discharge forms. The click of the door wakes Nina from her slumber on the couch bed, and she sits up all bleary eyed and confused, looking around the room with confusion.

You don't even bother greeting the doctor, just take the form and sign it, stuffing the recovery papers in your bag.

"What's going on?"

You look over your shoulder at her. "I'm going home early," you say, tucking your phone into your pocket. Nina quickly gets up, stumbling to find her shoes.

"You can't-"

"If you and Nico want to play games with me, that's fine." You cut off harshly, "but I can play them back. Rat me out, call Nico, I don't care, you're not stopping me."

"Y/n..." she sighs sadly, and you're a little disappointed in her lack of fight. Turning around, you cross your arms and glare at her.

"You of all people should get it Nina," you scold "I deserve to fight this fight for myself. I was the one hurt, not Nico or you or Timo. I gave up my whole fucking life, my family for this and no matter how much I train or help out you still think it's ok for Nico to stick me with a babysitter and lie to me?

"I'm just as capable as the rest of you."

Nina looks guilty, her features melting down into one of shame and you'd maybe feel bad if you weren't so upset.

"I- I'm not gonna call Nico," Nina murmurs, "you're right, you deserve to see them at the least so go ahead. Just let me know if you need anything ok?"

"Thank you," you say earnestly. "I'll keep you updated."

She quickly walks over, gently hugs you and strokes through your hair. "Be safe, be smart."

You grin, nodding in agreement before stalking out the room. Luca has arranged for a car to pick up Mercer, Luke, Jack, and Alex from the airport, and that car sits outside the hospital doors when you step out.

The windows are tinted so dark you can't see through them, but Mercer rolls down the passenger seat window to grin at you. You light up at the sight of his gapped smile, laughing as you yank open the doors and climb in.

"Why hello boys," you greet, turning around to smile at the triplets in the back. Alex reaches forward, ruffles your hair.

"Good to see ya boss." Jack greets, kneeing the back of your seat.

"Where are we heading?"

You roll up the window, punch in the address to the house you've been staying at. "Need a quick stop to change and get my things, then we've got ourselves a hot date."

Mercer pulls out onto the road, smirking devilishly as he does so.

~~~~

Luca's funny, you'll give him that. He's left Lena and Marcello and whatever other aiders and abetters locked up in the same house they'd taken you too. The car Nico and Timo have been driving around is parked in the drive, and you and the boys pull up next to it and hop out.

"Everything should be in the trunk," you instruct, knowing Luca left it unlocked. Sure enough when Jack pulls the hatch open, an array of guns, ropes, knives, and weapons are splayed out.

The boys are all eager as they choose their guns, Luke giggling goofily as he stocks up on ammo. You let them all pick first, tying the signature red bandana around the tender skin of your throat. They've all knotted theirs around the meat of their thigh, bright against their black jeans.

You take a pistol and three rounds of ammo, stuffing them into the black cargos you put on earlier. Just in case, you hook a medium sized knife on the waistband too. The sleek and thin tranquilizing gun they never use slips easily into your waistband too.

"Alright, we're going around back. Luca's left a window open that Jack can slip through to let us in the door. I'll lead us down to the basement and you'll follow my lead."

Lined up like soldiers, they all nod in agreement.

"Any instructions from Nico go unheard, you're with me and will follow my orders. If he tries to fight us, I will take care of it."

"Yes boss," they chirp in unison and you can't help but smirk. Nico has trained them well, you'll give him that. Too bad he also trained them to be loyal to you too.

You don't remember much about the house, just that the floors were white when you got there, and red when you left. In a way it's nice that you don't remember, it makes it easier to step inside and silently cross the large room. The chair you'd been tied to is nowhere to be seen, but the large pool of dried, flaking blood still is. You're unsure of how much of it is yours and how much of it is Lena's.

The boys are bit too heavy footed on the staircase down to the basement, so by the time you're stepping through the threshold all eyes are already watching. Both Nico and Timo are armed, the barrel of their guns trained on you. Luca is holding his lazily, looking proud when you meet his gaze, your own pistol in hand.

Nico's eyes are furious. You've never seen them so black, so enraged before and it makes you're blood boil. You're very confident you can out-anger him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He demands, but you ignore him, instead looking around the room. The floor is a dull, cement grey color with drains. There's doors to other hallways or rooms, you assume, most likely holding places for hostages. You don't need to explore them luckily, because the two people of concern are chained on their knees at your boyfriend's feet anyway.

"Let me in or I'm jumping down the stairs," Jack comments behind you, and you catch the way Nico bawks, obviously recognizing the voice. Motioning behind you for them to follow, you take a few steps further in. One-by-one they file in, lining up next to you with their guns in hand.

"Are you-fuck y/n..." Nico's staggering for words, clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it his waistband behind his back Timo does the same, but Luca just casually waves his at you.

You meet the burning gaze of Nico, take in how splotchy his cheeks have gotten, how his eyebrows scrunch and teeth clench. He's got that mean flare of his nose and curl of his lips, but you don't care.

He angers even more at your lack of response, snarling as he steps forward and you can already sense him reaching out to take ahold of your wrist. You flinch, step back and lifting your pistol towards him. It's on safety, he knows that, you know that. But the motion stops him all the same.

Freezing, he narrows his eyes at you. It's a cruel look, mocking and cold. "You're not gonna shoot me, sweetheart."

You shrug, tucking the gun away on the holster o your thigh. Nico smirks, amused and condescending. The look doesn't last long, not after you draw out the tranquilizing and aim at the thick part of his thigh.

"You must think I'm really fucking stupid, huh?" you spit, so angry you feel like you're vibrating. You don't give him the chance to respond. "A fragile little lapdog of a mob wife, stuck in a locked room with a fucking babysitter. Laying around and waiting for you to fix everything."

The pause in your words gives him a chance to speak. "I left you somewhere safe," he hisses "I left you in the best place to be dotted on and cared for while you get better! I-"

"You lied to me!" You yell, "you looked me in the eye and said you had errands to run, that you'd be back soon. And you knew I didn't believe it, you knew how much it fucking hurt and you still did it!"

He scoffs, shaking his head and you know he's trying to blow you off, trying to take control of everything like he always does. Clicking his tongue he looks behind you at the boys.

"Take her and get out," he barks, letting his gaze linger on all of them. When they don't budge, he gets angrier.

"Now, you little shits! You shouldn't even be here!"

Loyal, none of them move. You tilt your head, smug when he looks at you.

"Aim," you instruct, and as if they were being controlled by puppet strings, all four boys lift their weapons and aim at Nico's feet. Shocked, he looks around bewildered.

"You see, when I told them that their boss had left abandoned me at the hospital for hours to keep me from fighting my own battles, they were pissed. I mean everyone knows how you've been training me, how hard you and Timo have been pushing me so that Philly never happens again, and then you take away something I've earned, well they were upset.

"Rightfully so since they're my men as well."

Nico looks around for help, shooting Timo and Luca a look as if to say "what the fuck is happening?". He must read his brother really well though, because his shoulders tense when he sees Luca's sparkling eyes.

"Luca, you didn't," he sighs, "tell me you're not in on this."

The older Hischier purses his lips, waits a moment before taking a step over to join you. "She had a good plan," he defends "and good reasoning for being here."

Lining up next to the boys, Luca joins them in aiming at Timo's feet.

"I know you don't get it Nico," you comment "I know you think that you were doing the right thing, that you were protecting me. But you never even stopped to consider what this means for me.

"I've spent so many nights dreaming about Philly, I wake up with my hands numb from all the times I've imagined fighting back, proving myself. Because it was humiliating and dehumanizing, and I'll never get the revenge I deserve for what happened."

Your words have stalled him, shaken him if the softening brown of his eyes is anything to go by. If there's anyone that loathes Philly as much as you do, it's Nico.

"Almost as humiliating as having my supposed fiance lie to my face in front of his whole family, force my best friend to turn his back on me, treat me like some broken little girl.

"I'm not broken, I can handle this life, I chose this life. And you don't get to decide when and where I can actually be a part of it."

Knowing you've got him, you tuck away the tranquilizing gun in exchange for your pistol. Clicking the safety off, you step towards Nico. He looks almost ashamed now, like a puppy that's been kicked and scolded too many times.

"Did you stop for a moment and think that maybe I'd get my memories back if I got to come here again? If I got to see them? That maybe I can piece together what happened if I looked them in the eye one last time?"

Embarrassed, he shakes his head and reaches out for your hip. "I don't want you to remember, I don't want you knowing how they hurt you."

Stepping away from him, you scoff. "You don't get to choose that Nico! I deserve to know everything."

With a flick of your hand over your shoulder, the boys all follow closer behind you, their weapons pushing Nico off to the side so you can step around him.

"I also deserve to keep my promise." You murmur, finally taking in the two kneeling before you. They look awful. Marcello, bloodied and bruised, shaking on the cement floor. He doesn't even look up at you.

Lena on the other hand does, not as badly beaten as her cohort, but her lip is split open and there's an old ratty bandage around her thigh, blood stained and brown.

She's crying when she meets your gaze, begging and pathetic, and it makes you laugh. You don't break eye contact as you aim the gun at Marcello.

"I did say I'd be the one putting the bullet between his eyes, didn't I?"

You don't wait for her to answer, finger easily finding the trigger and with a ringing bang, Marcello slumps to the floor. Lena screams, wails harder and harder.

"Y/n, please. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You lock the gun and put it away, cutting her off with a gentle shush. "I'm not gonna kill you," you tell her. "I'm not even gonna touch you. It's beneath me really.

"Making bad people suffer, however isn't. So I have a plan for you, with the help of my brother-in -law back there that controls all of Switzerland."

Lena sniffles, hiccuping and shaking her head.

"As of now you're no longer a Swiss citizen. You and you're family have been exiled, away from Europe and away from North America. And when I unchain you and I fix up that thigh of yours, you gonna be escorted out without a single belonging. In fact, I think your parents have just been deported.

"Anyway, you're going to hobble out of here and be grateful that I'm such a forgiving person. Because I should kill you, for what you did to me, for what you did to Nico, using him like that. Instead you'll spend the rest of your life poor and pathetic, and when you think of me you'll remember that not only am I sleeping with the Jersey king every night, but the Swiss one takes orders from me as well."

Glaring, you turn to Mercer and nod towards Lena. "Unchain her and take her upstairs, I know a real cozy spot she can wait in while I finish up."

~~~~

You've calmed down by the time you finish cleaning and stitching up Lena's bullet wound. So has Nico, who's standing by the open hatch of the car, head hanging low as he changes out of his stained and dirty shirt.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, everything in his gaze hurt and sad. You imagine you look the exact same.

You pause in front of him, begin unloading the weapons from your pants. "You left me there overnight," you mumble, placing the guns and ammo back where they belong.

"I was trying to hurry, I promise."

"No you weren't" you laugh humorlessly "because you were mad and hurt, and I was hurt, so you wanted them to hurt even more." He doesn't even deny it.

"I had a nightmare," you admit, voice wobbling. "that I was back here and everytime you got close enough to me, I'd blink and it'd be Marcello instead. It really sucked to wake up and not be able to tell if it was a dream, because you still weren't there."

Nico sniffles and you look up to find him standing over you, eyes glossy and red-rimmed. "I had to do something," he explains, voice cracking. "I was so fucking angry and guilty I thought I was gonna explode. And I didn't want you seeing me like that."

You frown. "I'm not scared of you Nico, ever."

"You might have been, if you saw the way I tore through everyone in there."

"When are you going to understand that I'll always pick you, I'll always be on your side? Even when you pull shit like this?"

His hands find your hips, drawing you the slightest bit closer to him. "When are you going to understand that I love you more than anything in the world? That I get mean and tough because I'd literally fucking die without you, and that's scary. And I don't know how to show you that, so I do it by protecting you."

You reach out for his shoulders, let your fingers feel the smooth skin of him, pink and cold in the winter air. "You can protect me and still let me rule by your side," you tell him. "I didn't want to come here and hurt them, interfere with you. But I needed to see it, for myself."

Nico nods, his wet eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've let you fight with me, be a brat whatever. Most of the time it's for my own good anyway."

"Yeah it is," you smile. "and I'm still upset."

He sniffles, blinking rapidly as a tear slips down his cheek. "I'll make it up to you, shoot me with the stupid dart or whatever you want. Lesson learned."

You laugh a bit at that, lean in to brush your nose against his. "I make a pretty good prinzessin, huh?"

Biting his lip, he smirks. "A fucking sexy one too. Not used to my pillow prinzessin walking all over me like that, but it looked good on you."

"It was tiring," you mumble, eyelashes fluttering. "I don't think I'd like to do it all the time."

"No?" He hums, "That's ok, you can just fill in for me whenever you feel like it."

"Ok," you agree, and then your pressing your lips to his for what feels like the first time in years. He's soft and warm, licking teasingly at your bottom lip and then dipping his tongue in when you part your mouth for him.

Nico always kisses you like honey, no fight is ever gonna change that.

Next

[girlkisser13]

demeter cabin headcanons

children of demeter

• they're all very soft and warm people. unlike the apollo kids who are bright and lively, their warmth is softer and more comforting like a flickering fire on a cool autumn night.

• they can create flowers that have never existed before, often a mix of two or more flowers or something original.

• most of the campers drop by the demeter cabin to pick up flowers for their dates because they will weave a bouquet with a personalized message in the language of the flowers.

• there is a small garden along with a one room shop where they grow and sell their flowers and other assorted plants which they grow on request.

• the money earned is divided amongst them but the majority of the proceeds go to environmental causes.

• they all hate winter but absolutely adore autumn.

��� intricate flower crowns are worn 24/7.

• they are ALWAYS outside.

• they would make amazing teachers.

• they are the plant and parent friend in a friend group.

• the children of demeter with vitiligo have spots and marks that look like flowers and leaves.

• the ground where a child of demeter died becomes more fertile and makes flowers grow like crazy.

• they are all either really tall or really short (i will not be taking any questions).

• they're probably all vegetarians (they live, breathe, and eat plants).

• they organize clean-up efforts, tree plantings, and educational sessions on composting and reducing waste.

• they teach younger campers about medicinal herbs (alongside the apollo kids), magical plants, practical gardening tips, and the properties of different plants.

cabin exterior

• the demeter cabin blends harmoniously with its surroundings, almost appearing to grow out of the earth itself. the structure would be adorned with climbing vines, flowers, and moss.

• it's constructed primarily from natural materials such as wood, stone, and clay.

• they have a welcoming porch with wooden rocking chairs and a swing.

cabin interior

• PLANTS EVERYWHERE (obviously).

• the cabin itself feels alive. vines creep up the walls, adorned with colorful blossoms that change with the seasons.

• COTTAGECORE COTTAGECORE COTTAGECORE.

• their cabin interior radiates cottagecore vibes.

• the furniture is crafted from natural materials, giving the cabin a rustic and cozy feel. cushions and throws are made from soft, organic fabrics, inviting you to sink in and relax.

cabin traditions

• they have an annual competition where they all compete to see who can grow the tallest plant.

• every time a child of demeter gets claimed, they add a plant somewhere in the cabin and tend to it during their stay. if they're on a quest, one of their siblings take care of it and if they die, the plant lives on in memory of them. that’s one of the reasons the cabin is filled to THE BRIM with plants.

divider by @strangergraphics-archive

[justevelynnnn]

I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

[madsmilfelsen]

I think Rust is neat and all but what drew me in was his HANDS. Idk how to explain it, but something about the way he holds things and articulates makes me just. Stare at them. Like I just Know he has rough hands

alright babe, you want to talk about his hands, let’s talk about his hands via timeline

Obviously living in the bush of Alaska requires a lot of manual labor to survive, skin rubbing raw inside leather gloves, blisters from splitting wood, scars from his knife slipping on salmon (v real, I used to filet 500 salmon a summer and baby…. yew, my left hand has gotten nicked more than once— Travis and Rust had a fish camp on the Copper River, probably across the bridge from Chitna and a touch north, and lived way up river between Slana and Nabesna bc I’m making all this up right now and I said so) etc etc so his hands well worn before he got out, moved back to Texas and meets Claire snared by his weirdo allure and bizarre way of handling things— Sophia comes along and I bet he was washing his hands like a maniac, dry as fuck, probably worried his rough hands might make her fussy so held her with her little swaddling blankets at first (compensated with A LOT of skin to skin time but that’s a different ask), carefully petting her hair with just the tips of his fingers, down the bridge of her nose to make her go to sleep. Sophia loved his hands (like mother like daughter fr) could be occupied when he took her fishing by just letting her sit in his lap to play with his fingers, try on his wedding ring, ask why his nails are shorter than mommy’s or why they aren’t soft like mommy’s, map his calluses, trace the lines of his palms until he set a hook and watched him reel in dinner.

(Addition) hol up, hear me out— Sophia rooting around his bare chest and pacified with the curl of his knuckle, Sophia teething and gnawing on his fingers, Sophia learning to walk with her soft pudgy hands in his, Sophia squealing and giggling as he tickles her round lil tummy, Sophia’s only sitting still to get her hair brushed but only for daddy— Rust’s hands becoming the most abused part of his body after she’s gone

Crash era— this man does not give a shit about his hands, the most treatment they get is when he taped them together after breaking a finger, had a punching bag for obvious reasons and beat the shit out of it no gloves no tape constantly bruised. Not a stranger to working with mechanics (in Alaska, Travis would make sure he could keep his equipment running— boat engines, four wheeler oil changes, changing snow mobile tracks etc) and probably took his bike apart and put it back together just to make sure he could be Authentic, different calluses with new tools, divots in his skin lost to the unforgiving scraping bite of metal, hissing when he gets transmission fluid in his split knuckles

1995– habitual hand washing returns, dry as hell, his wrists probably crack and bleed in the winter (very very very rarely is annoyed enough to actual do something about it, probably had to bleed on one of his files— he’d use Johnson and Johnson baby lotion becuase that’s he only shit he knew, definitely drunk cried about it at least once, before sucking it up and swtiching to Vaseline), pull up bars give calluses at the base of the fingers/tops of the palms, just does calisthenics because who the fuck wants to buy equipment. Does all the upkeep on his truck (and thinking about it, this would be the first time he’d be like Alone alone in a long while, no handlers, no Iron Crusaders, no backstory upkeep, no dad, no wife, probably takes truck parts inside and cleans them on his kitchen counter because no one is there to say what the fuck are you doing— “we don’t mind being alone” okay Okay sure honey) Makes it worse by the talcum powder in his rubber gloves or licking his fingers to go through case files or staying too long in the dry archives where he can’t smoke so probably tapping his mouth, rubbing circles on his knuckles with his thumb or running it along his nails— don’t know what flavor of adhd that man has a strangle hold on but he can’t sit entirely still, fingers moving with the bits of his mind that aren’t occupied to keep himself from distraction, pretending he didn’t lose his patience with his fatherhood.

2002– Laurie :) home girl said that’s enough! Probably got recommendations from surgeons and plys him tins of hand salve, he doesn’t like the greasy feeling, but his girl is askin’ he won’t say no babey!

2012– full circle, back to them Alaskan fishing boat hands, type of hands that snag fabric (my husband isn’t a mechanic but does work with his hands and I can’t wear silk around him) and hair gets caught on, the man does not own a brush, finger combs his hair once a week and puts that shit in a hair tie, done with it.

[spideyhexx]

helloo! i saw you were asking for coryo thoughts so i thought i’d share this with you and see what you think

i feel like the thing that worries me most about being in a relationship with coryo is his love of perfection, and how maybe i wouldn’t match up to that?

things like stretch marks and imperfect skin, when it’s the winter and you haven’t shaved your legs in months, when you have stubble on your armpits and down there is unruly to say the least, when you wake up with messy hair and drool on your pillow etc. do you think these things would bother him or would he love on your stretch marks and scars and embrace the prickliness and bush?

I think he’s definitely very perfectionist but I don’t believe he’s thinking down upon any of the stuff you’ve listed. He’d notice, that’s for sure but I think he cares more about the…taking care of yourself?

Maintaining appearance, yes, but not in the way of not liking hair on his partner, etc. messy hair/etc. can’t be completely avoided so I don’t think he cares. I think if he loved his partner, he’d love on those things. Even if it was an arranged marriage situation, I don’t think he’d care really. Some miscellaneous things might bother him but like…if it’s stuff you can’t even control, he’s not gonna bother with it, nor have any bad feelings. But like, if you’re being unhygienic, he’d probably be turned off.

In public, there’s a slight difference, I think he’s a huge observer. If something is amiss, he notices. So with that, he’d care a lot about how himself and his partner looks, especially if this is post peacekeeper/young politician Coryo, he’s gonna strive for perfection visually.

Cause him and his partner are meant to represent something in public and that’s where his controlling nature might take over, based on what would be worn, etc.

So obviously if someone looked “messy” or just not put together, (clothing/hair style wise) he’d have some sort of disdain towards them. But not in the sense of disliking body hair/stretch marks or anything else akin to that! He’s not shameful over things that are natural (maybe only unless it’s with himself)

With that, think the perfectionism he has in more with himself than it is with others. He notices it with others, but he’s had to maintain a certain appearance for so long, it’s more reflected in himself than it is in his partner.

[redwayfarers]

out of my depth

wayfarer. mc & amali sero, set post prologue and pre ep 1. gen, 927 words. on importance and access to choices. divider credit

“We can cut it, if you’d like,” Sero suggests. The room is warm; there’s a fireplace and cups of hot tea on Sero’s desk. Yet, the boy sits in one of the grand chairs for guests covered in furs to his chin. They almost miss his response, a slight lifting of his head. “Your hair, Cassander. Have you always worn your hair long?” 

Sometimes, they don’t know what to talk about with him. They can feel him watching and measuring their every word and motion. He probably knows they like to press their cuticles when they’re idle and that they like their meals slightly oversalted. There’s an intelligence behind his red eyes, bright and open and radiant, and they’re certain the kid knows way more than he lets on. 

If he ever does, in reality. Most of the time, Cassander doesn’t speak much. He seems to take forever to answer a question, if only because he’s measuring something in that overfilled brain of his. It’s unsettling, and if Sero was being honest with themself, it makes them question whether he’s a right fit for their apprentice sometimes. 

They’d never say it, though. They’re oddly attached to the unsettling, scrawny elf Cenric dragged from Vodena. Life hasn’t been kind to him there, Cenric said. Be patient with him, Cenric said. And Sero’s heart cracked a little from that walk in the snow, from watching an obviously terrified kid try and put on a brave face for survival, and their mind was made up. 

No kid asks to be hurt by adults. Sero’s doubts shame them. They feel Cassander’s eyes sliding over him, and they ask, gentler, “Have you always had your hair long?” 

“Yes,” he says. He tries to sound as neutral as possible. “For ease of styling.” 

“Ease of styling? From what I’ve seen of Vestra, your hairstyles are anything but easy to do.” Sero reaches out to one of the cups and drinks a sip. “Spire must be a downgrade in that regard.” 

“It is easy to style long hair,” Cassander says. He squirms on his seat. A halo of warm, red curls flies about his face, framed by the fire. Sero imagines they were more defined before winter took its toll on them. “Everyone has long hair.” 

“Not here, though. Some Wayfarers keep it short for practicality. We’re of a wandering sort and hair gets in the way sometimes. That’s why I asked if you would like to wear it short for a while.” 

Cassander shoots his head up and sits a little straighter. Sero almost regrets it; it’s rare to see him relaxed, but this time around, Sero notices, it’s less defensive, held back composure and more curiosity. Like a cat, they think. He schools his face to be neutral but it’s a struggle. His mouth is slightly open, as if to ask something, but he seems to decide against it. His hands grip the big fur coat. 

“It is up to you,” they say. Their heart tightens a little. Their nails click against the clay cup. “I’m not trying to force anything, Cassander. If you want it, it can happen. But if you don’t, there’s no harm done.” 

“That’s possible?” Cassander says, all too quiet, like he’s asking for some sort of permission. Sero is suddenly hit with a gods-awful reminder how young he is; Cenric’s asked around and the kid is ten. Ten years old, on the cusp of eleven, and they’ve seen many ten year olds running around and grabbing the world by the throat. Sero suddenly stands up, like something physically pushes them upward, leaves their cup on the table and walks over to Cassander, mindful of their step. 

Like approaching a spooked cat. 

“Can I hug you?” Sero asks. Their voice feels heavy in their throat. Cassander looks up. There are freckles on his nose and on his neck, faint in the winter. A moment passes, and Sero is just ready to step away, give him space, when he says a small, barely there yes. 

So they kneel a little to be on his eye level and wrap their arms around his small shoulders. He burrows his face against their neck and they feel his breath hitch and then even out. His hands grab Sero’s shirt and he holds tight, as if he wants to get under their skin. And Sero would let him. Part of them wants to card their fingers through his curls. 

“Has your hair ever been your choice?” Sero asks quietly. 

“No,” Cassander responds. 

“From now on, it is,” Sero says with determination. “I can teach you to take care of it. I can teach you to style it. But it is on you how you want to wear it. It’s on your head. The look of your hair is not that big to me as it is for you to become a good Wayfarer.” 

Cassander swallows, thickly. “I–” 

“There’s no need to make your choice now. Think about it. Should you come to any decision, let me know.” 

He simply nods and furrows back into Sero’s embrace. Sero has little heart to let him go just yet. Fire cracks behind them as the wind blows harshly outside. It doesn’t matter though, does it? Sero feels awfully out of their depth, but they know that this kid is theirs. 

Oh how Cenric would laugh if he saw them. Laugh, yes, but also hide a happy little smile that one unfortunate magiani child has found a home in their Order. 

Sero can’t fault him one bit. 

[minecraftbookshelf]

MOS.

Would you like to tell us about regional holidays and festives? Whale migration festival? End of Harvest Season? First day of Spring? Do Empires share a big common holiday, maybe like Christmas?

Absolutely

So we have three categories here; canon holidays, holidays I already had in mind, and holidays i figured out while thinking about this ask. We'll go in that order.

There aren’t exactly any universal holidays, but there are some that are fairly widespread.

Canonically we have two holidays, Winterfest and Halloween.

Winterfest is from Rivendell and is their winter solstice celebration. It's primarily centered around communal celebration and gift-giving. There is also a strong religious aspect to it, though that has been a bit more subdued of late given the somewhat awkward situation with the whole "the king is the champion of Exor" thing. (Scott usually presides over the Winterfest ceremonies.) This was also Scott’s favorite holiday growing up. Traditionally the people stay up all night (children usually have varied success with this) and there are bonfires and food. Gifts are usually left to be found, rather than given directly.

Hallowe'en is a mortal celebration, primarily in Mythland. Lately Katherine has taken an interest in it as well and often travels to Mythland to celebrate it. It is also celebrated in Helianthia, the Grimlands, the Crystal Cliffs, Mangrovia, and the Swamp, to varying extents. It is celebrated on the Autumn equinox and involves costumes and pranks and gifts, usually of the edible variety.

-

Some holidays that I already had percolating are…

Solstices and Equinoxes tend to be fairly universally celebrated to different degrees in different places.

The Helianthian harvest festival, which takes place in the fall, usually either shortly before or after Hallowe’en and is their largest holiday. It is primarily celebrated via food and community, with lots of music, dance, and story-teling. People weave crowns and jewelry from wheat and grass and wear them. No other accessories are worn during the celebrations. 

The Church of the Blood Sheep has several smaller observances throughout the year, especially on the solstices.

Pixandrian new year is a major event, when they celebrate the death of the old year and the arrival of the new. This is another “stay up all night” event. The oasis is lit up so bright it can be seen for miles across the desert during this time. Feasts are held and the old year is honored at the vigil. And then they dance and dance and dance until dawn. Pixandria uses a lunar calendar and their new year is the new moon that marks the transition from winter into spring.

The spring equinox is the biggest seasonal celebration in the Overgrown, though the autumn equinox and both solstices are also huge. But they are the Spring Court so obviously, that equinox is their biggest. This is not a safe celebration for mortals. It’s wild even by fae standard, with music, alcohol, and hunting. Mortals straying too close tend to end up hunted. The Helianthian border villages will celebrate this equinox during the day, but they lock their doors tight that night.

There is a late summer observance in the Swamp centered around the slime harvest.

Rivendell has a sheep-shearing festival in the late spring.

-

Some that I thought of because of this ask…

The Ocean Empire is primarily in warm waters so they don’t actually see whales most of the year but I really do like the idea of the towers being in sight of a whale migration highway and that being one of their major seasonal observances. It would also be a hunting event, though they probably would only hunt one or two. A single whale goes a long way towards sustaining a community. When they first were establishing themselves at their current location it was probably only one whale but they have enough people now they might go for two or three. They wouldn’t need more than that most likely because they have trade-routes and established infrastructure for food.

Mezaleans celebrate the spring equinox around the mother tree. This is when the annual coming-of-age ceremony is held there. People travel into the capitol from all over the mesa for it.

-

There are more of course, smaller region observances especially. But this is a good collection I think! Thank you for the ask!

[witchcraftandgeeknes]

Gift

Just a silly little fluffy story, Mikaelsons celebrating winter holiday. As I don't celebrate Christmas and it's way too late for it anyway, it's not specified which holiday it takes place in. You can think of whichever you celebrate yourself.

Dedicated to: @fitzs-trained-monkey who persuaded me to post it despite this fic being silly and my English being bad. Love you, marshmallow

Word count: 1900 approximately

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Elijah rarely received any gifts.

This might be connected to complicated family bonds, or maybe to the fact that mostly his family was separated by a cold steel of a dagger plunged in someone's chest or their father making them fly in separate ways to avoid him catching any of them. Because of the latter, infinity of things that were precious to their hearts were indiscriminately left in the race against Mikael: their beloved ones, favourite places in the world, many houses they were foolish enough to declare their permanent homes, and tremendous amount of belongings that limited time or need made them leave behind.

That way or another, Elijah rarely received gifts from anyone, including his siblings. But when he did, Elijah treasured each and every of small mementos in his heart if he cannot garner all of them in his current adobe. The most rare name on the gift boxes Elijah saw was Kol's.

To say that they didn't see eye to eye on thing would be an understatement of a century. Kol was vicious and was fond of all the nefarious activities that repelled Elijah. Despite everything, Elijah loved Kol, and small signs of his little brother's affection were just as dear to his heart as ones from Niklaus or Rebekah.

Nevertheless, Elijah must admit that the gift was quite... puzzling, to put it best. It was not like Kol completely missed with his guess, Elijah always adored a pristine atlas tie as a gift but.. The colours.

Indeed, the colours were of quite peculiar choice. His newest tie was made of excellent quality and smooth texture, but the black-and-yellow stripes.... Though Kol's everyday attire was much different from Elijah's, the youngest Mikaelson's sense of fashion was never questioned. Keeping that in mind, it was hard to explain how on Earth he might have chose such a tie to give as a genuine present.

Maybe Kol's mischievous nature is involved in this case, or perhaps a huge difference in their styles. Whichever it is, Elijah could not hurt his brother's feelings. Absolutely not and especially not now, when their home finally finessed the most cordial atmosphere in many centuries. Obviously, this... tie is not to be worn on an official visit or in a wide public. Home celebrations in a close family circle, on the other hand, Elijah could bear. Even such a bright, bright yellow tie with evidently contrasting ink-black stripes.

He and Kol had reached temporal understanding and there is no saying how long peace will last, and as long as it does, Elijah shall do anything to keep it this way. Even if that means to step on the common fashion senses. After all, it is without a doubt not the worst thing he had to endure for the sake of his siblings` wellbeing. Elijah had to admit, that even so odd, the gift elated him.

***

*an hour earlier*

Kol loves Harry Potter books. Reading them made him feel a very special kind of way – as if for a few hours of devoted reading he traveled back in time, to the period of it that he was still alive and human and full of mischievous energy that danced in his veins, asking for permission to break free and promising a lot of fun.

And when Klaus announced that they will all together celebrate impending winter holiday, Kol decided to choose the gifts for that day based on his own little obsession. Why the hell not? Klaus gave them all a lot of art throughout their lives, ignoring the fact that Kol, for example, could not care less about anything connected to it.

Regardless of his reasoning, Kol heard they say that it's the attention that matters, and not the gift itself. If that's true, it means that Kol's choice was splendid. Or at least so he thought.

As an official expert on this matter, Kol was the only one capable of sorting his dear relatives into their respective houses of Hogwarts school. That was probably stupid, Kol knew that. But these silly decisions he took with whole seriousness he could muster.

Klaus, undoubtedly, was the one hell of a Slytherin. Kol doubted any explanation was required for this choice, but if one would need it, he contemplated it with all details elaborated in this mental essay (deep down, he actually wished that someone would ask and he would get to explain his decision, even thought it's unlikely). Therefore, Kol packed a pair of green socks with a  prominent snake emblem for dearly beloved Nik, and attached short note that conveyed his hopes that dear brother will abstain from chewing his gift during full moons – Kol wrote this with a huge grin. One day he will pay for all those dog jokes. Today is not this day. Kol was fairly sure that killing (or daggering, for that matter) family members is officially against holiday traditions.

For Rebekah, his favourite sibling, and his fellow fan of magical world, Kol prepared the whole suit of Gryffindor uniform. Her warm smile and hug and possibly a thank-you kiss planted on his cheek will be worth all the collecting and packing he went through for this.

Elijah was the hardest one. Firstly, Kol was postponing choosing the gift for Elijah till last moment, and when he finally did select Elijah in his corresponding Hogwarts house (Hufflepuff, as Kol deduced), packed it in a box and wrapped it in a paper decorated with images of dozens Rudolfs, he couldn't bring himself to actually put it under a tree like all the other gifts.

It was silly, after all. And Elijah never approves of silly things. The elder brother was always dead serious and restrained, the perfect image of the head of the family. More of a father figure than a sibling like Nik and Bekah. And while Kol could act silly and joke around with the latter, Elijah seemed unaffected by their ideas of fun.

But what's the alternative, anyway? Thanks to procrastinating, it's the big day today, and there's literally no time to think of something more serious or appropriate. Damn it.

It seems like he has to do it no matter how ludicrous this gift is.

To avoid embarrassment, Kol decided to put the gift box near Elijah's bedroom door. At least this way he doesn't have to witness big brother's dissapointment. Again. Nevermind. What happens happens. It's too late to change his mind.

Kol rushed away to avoid getting caught as if he did something wrong. Perhaps the life of mischiefmaker made him a bit paranoied. Like Nik. What a nightmare.

***

*later*

Kol has to say. The only reason he let Rebekah do this to him was a bribe. The bribe was a box full of chocolate and other candies. At least, it was good enough of a reason at first thought. Kol now doubts his decision. Perhaps it was a bad impulse.

"Ouch!"

"Hush, sit still," Rebekah hisses at him from the couch while braiding his hair in tenth tiny braid. Kol shifted at her legs unhappily and pouting.

Klaus tried to muffle his cackling but failed miserably.

"You never looked better in your life, Kol."

Kol sent the remote control flying across the room and it hit Nik in the forehead.

"HEY!"

"At least I don't have a stupid ass sweater with chihuahua!"

Klaus blushed, embarassed. The poor idiot lost a bet with Rebekah (and to place bets with Rebekah was always rather risky activity) and was forced into this sweater. Maybe Kol won't be the number one target for dog jokes as soon as holiday is over after all.

"Shut up, both of you," their sister chided and tugged Kol's hair especially roughly. If that's what she had to endure each day Mother was braiding her hair then maybe he was too harsh on her all that time.

Kol relaxed and pressed his back to her legs, surrendering to his cruel fate. Until...

"Well, at least it's not as dumb as your Ravenclaw sweater," Klaus said, a minute too late with his comeback.

"You take that bac– AW, BEKAH!" Sister dearest hit him with the Dickens book across his head when Kol abruptly tried to stand up. "That was uncalled for!"

"I told you to sit still," she said, tugging him down on the floor by the hem of his beautiful Ravenclaw sweater. "And I told you to shut up, Nik. Elijah! Tell them!"

To the brothers' surprise, Elijah chuckled from the threshold. Neither of them noticed how the eldest brother entered. He was in his suit, like always. Kol resumed to his place on the floor and let Rebekah continue her work.

"Gentlemen, behave," Elijah commanded and made his way to the table and took one mandarin.

"Can you be nice to each other at least at a family holiday, mhm?" Elijah didn't stop berating them even as he proceed to peel mandarin. "You look wonderful today, Rebekah."

"Thank you, 'Lijah!"

He was right, Rebekah looked like she's posing for the holiday edition of some fashionable magazine. What can't be said about Klaus and Kol himself.

"Why, brother, you look quite dashing yourself. Where did you get your tie, on a masquarade?" Klaus laughed. Kol looked up at Elijah. He didn't notice at first, but Elijah wore his gift. The Hufflepuff tie looked out of place on Elijah, like Kol predicted. His stomach sank.

"Thank you for your insight, Niklaus," Elijah said, glaring at the middle brother sternly. Then he looked down, and straightened his already perfectly fastened tie. "In fact, I quite like your gift, Kol. It's probably my favourite this year."

Kol felt his cheeks getting hot. He rarely heard nice words from his family and it felt... very strange but he loved the feeling.

"Really?" Kol muttered under his breath. Elijah smiled at him.

"Of course. Thank you for this, I'll wear it whenever an opportunity presents itself, like today. Now, does anybody want hot chocolate?"

Kol and Rebekah didn't let him finish the sentence and agreed immeadiately and loudly, and when Elijah matter-of-factly asked if Klaus wants a cup too, the hybrid rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, he didn't refuse the offer either.

"He looks stupid though," Klaus whispered quitely so Elijah's ear won't catch it but loud enough for his younger siblings to hear. Kol snorted. Klaus was petty and didn't like the fact that Elijah scolded him but complimented Kol's gift.

He didn't notice how Rebekah finished braiding his hair – Kol couldn't imagine how much he looked like a hedgehog right now – and suddenly leaned down and hugged Kol by his neck.

"You're the best brother, Kol. You're my favourite, you know."

"You tell that to each of us, don't you?" Kol rolled his eyes but couldn't stop a smile spreading across his face. He loved his family with all his heart. Even grumpy Nik. The idea of being his only sister's favourite brother was quite amusing too.

From the kitchen Elijah announced that their hot chocolate with marshmallows is ready and waiting for them.

Rebekah was the first to get on her feet.

"Race you!" and just like that, Rebekah sped up towards kitchen. Kol and Klaus didn't have to be asked twice and they swiftly followed her.

From the kitchen, Elijah's voice could be heard: "Oh come on, you all, how old are you, ten?"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

You made it that far? Good job, I guess

[amysnotdeadyet]

A Matched Set

I finished! My! Novel! And to keep up my wc but also take a day off of long fiction, I'm doing the 4 ficlet requests that came in, 500 words each.

For the first, the darling @sdlibrarian requested "Stuckony--halloween costumes" and got this rather naughty (but not actually porny) little vignette.

Steve got his idea when he overheard Bucky asking JARVIS for help with an Ironettes costume for Halloween. He got JARVIS to make him a male version, the most genuine sexy Iron Man stripper costume in the world.

"Oh, I see," said Bucky, coming out of his room in the outfit and looking extremely edible in the tiny skirt and fake gauntlets. "You're stealin' my thunder."

"Nah," said Steve, coming over in his extremely tiny thong with its LED arc reactor drawing a lot of attention down there, holding his hand out to show Bucky how their gauntlets match. "It's a couples costume. It'll be a hit."

Bucky's response was to leave a gauntlet-shaped handprint on Steve's bare ass.

"Think Tony's gonna figure us out?" said Bucky, fluffing his skirt to show off how the tiny underwear beneath barely contained him.

Steve chuckled. "We're gonna have to use our words, but I think this will give us a chance."

Tony, of course, outdid them both.

They were chatting with the rest of the Avengers when Tony strode in looking smug as anything. "Say hello to Winter America," said Tony, posing with his right hand on his hip and the left brandishing an obviously fake knife.

His right and left sides merged in the middle where buckles and straps criss crossed both sides, from the Winter Soldier's black leather to Captain America's stars and stripes. He'd worn mismatched matching boots, both of them with tall platforms, and added padding to make him look buff. Tony did a spin to laughter and applause, showing off the way his half-shield melted into a sniper rifle.

Then his eyes landed where Bucky and Steve were leaning in on one another and looking at Tony with, at least for Steve, inordinate fondness, and his smooth movements stuttered to a halt.

"I don't think those are child-safe," said Tony, sounding a little strangled.

Bucky smirked. "Wait'll you see the back of Steve's," he said. He spun Steve around and landed a swat against the other cheek, next to the mostly-faded one. "He's all ready for you to stuff your dollars."

"So are you," pointed out Natasha, who'd gone full drag in a different way and was dressed as Coulson of all people, though she'd retained some dignity and forgone the bald cap.

Clint and Lucky were there as Captain and Ms. Marvel respectively, their costumes store-bought but worn with great enthusiasm.

"I have some more panels to put on when we go out," said Steve, turning back around. "It's still sexier Iron Man, but not quite so…"

"Ass out," Bucky supplied.

"They'll love it," said Tony with a laugh. "Everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to know if Steve fucks."

"I assure you," said Bucky smugly, "He does."

"But you're welcome to find out later," said Steve.

"Please flirt later," said Bruce, swathed in a Grim Reaper costume and skull makeup.

"Oh, we will," said Steve.

"But we're also gonna flirt now," added Bucky.

Bruce sighed.

[asheepinthenight]

Hi Dani! I love Talon's End so much! I love the writing and Hawk and Shea and the Siblings and Isla and Erich and not so much mom, but I still love her and it's amazing.

Question: How would you describe the usual human clothing of the region? I'm trying to draw my MC (helps with getting to know the character) and I'm not sure of what clothing she'd wear.

Thank you and take care! <3

That's a super good question! I got a little carried away, but hopefully this is at least kind of helpful!

TL;DR: Women mostly wear dresses; men mostly wear trousers. Regardless of gender, clothes tend to be light and loose in style without a lot of ornamentation. Currently though, elegant, ornamental hairstyles are in, and many people are growing their hair out to take advantage of that. Hair length isn't particularly culturally dictated or gendered. Clothing colors usually reflect the seasons' colors in nature, but only members of high society (like MC's family) are really expected to have whole ensembles of the "proper" colors. For those curious, robes aren't at all common due to their association with mages.

Details under the cut!

The area where MC and their family live is relatively diverse, so fashion there has been influenced by a variety of different cultures. Maressea is on the warmer side of temperate with a fair amount of precipitation, so during warm weather, clothes tend to be light and not have too many layers--but coats, jackets, and capes to ward off the rain are common. Even when it's warm, sleeves, trousers, and skirts are usually long, but they tend to be more loose and flowing. During the winter, heavier fabrics are a must, but the styles are relatively similar to warm-weather clothes. Colors are an important part of styling, though. The colors of an ensemble should generally match the colors seen in nature during a given season. This is obviously pretty expensive and, therefore, a thing people will be judged by if they're considered a member of Society. But in situations where no one could reasonably afford multiple dyed garments for every season, people still often use seasonal colors for ribbons, handkerchiefs, and other small items. Even among the nobility, garment patterns and shapes are often relatively simple since the mundane aspects of fabric arts were only revived in the last century. Those who had the knowledge to revive things like lace-making and detailed embroidery are highly sought after, and their services quite expensive.

Hats aren't a big thing--unless they're necessitated by weather--since elegant, complex hairstyles are having a moment (the vibe but not necessarily form of fancy wedding updos). Historically, there hasn't been a major tendency toward long or short hair, regardless of gender, but long hair is stylish due to greater options for the aforementioned elegant hairstyles. (Not quite Hawk-length, though!) Hair accessories like ribbons, combs, and gemstones are common based on what a person has available to them.

Women are usually expected to wear dresses, and men are expected to wear trousers. But some avant garde women (including Sabine) have started wearing trousers at informal events (and formal events, if they're feeling extremely spicy). Some men have begun wearing dresses as well, but it hasn't taken off as much just yet. Robes are sometimes worn, but it's very rare since they're associated with being the garb of mages--not the most popular thing these days. So Hawk's gift had the double sin of being a robe AND not being a seasonally appropriate color.

[ma11goth-1]

©00SGOTH. IAN VALONE , DETAILS.

FIG. A: ear piercings . . . three in left ear. two helix , standard lobe. FIG. B: ear piercings . . . two in right ear. one helix , standard lobe. FIG. C: facial piercings . . . standard labret. contrary to popular belief , this piercing does not go directly through the lip. it is instead placed below the lower lip , just above his chin. ( not shown ) a standard tongue piercing.

FIG. D: wardrobe . . . a look inside his closet. tripp pants and shorts are his go-to , baggy and accessorized with straps and/or chains , and band shirts are essential. he's a big fan of layering. this includes mesh and fishnet shirts either over or under plain tees or tanks. FIG. E: accessories . . . he wears a lot of silver. not only are his piercings always sterling silver , but all of his jewelry and accessories mostly consist of it as well. this includes his rings and necklaces. he typically wears at least one ring on each hand , and one necklace at a time. studded bracelets and belts are common.

FIG. F - I: wardrobe (cont.) . . . dressing down for him just means less logos and extra straps. this style is a lot less baggy and more form fitting �� but despite his pants or shorts fitting better , they're still constantly drooping below his hips and exposing boxer bands even with the help of belts due to a small waist... and preferring how it looks.

FIG. J: wardrobe (cont.) . . . fall and winter edition. the bigger the better during colder months , and the jackets come out of storage. his looser shirts are usually more distressed from age , often getting them secondhand , and there's a lot of wear and tear from being worn with love. they're also much softer. FIG. K: accessories (cont.) . . . the chances of him carrying a discman are extremely high. if he has some sort of bag on him , it's probably loaded with cds that he switches out every few days.

FIG. L: wardrobe (cont.) . . . spring and summer edition. the less clothes the better during warmer months. tripp pants are switched out for tripp cargo shorts and once into summer , tees are replaced with tanks. though he is guilty of making his own by messily cutting the sleeves from old shirts. FIG. M: beauty marks . . . he is littered in beauty marks , moles , and freckles. other than the noticeable ones on the side of his chin and neck , his back and shoulders have the most. obviously , they're seen more often during the summer when he's wearing less.

[sophia-draws]

Hatsune Miko as a Black Mountain woman

A while back, I started drawing a fantasy comic, which later became a novel, about a place called the Black Mountains. Obviously the story had a main character, but probably the most important element of the story was the Black Mountain culture and how it fit - or didn't - with the rest of the story's world.

Miku here is dressed as Black Mountain women typically dress for an average day of work.

>Neatly braided hair. It would be inappropriate to go outside with your hair unbraided. If your hair is in order, your life is in order.

>Jewelry made of painted wood beads. A string of beads is also often worn around the waste on days when looking nice is more important than looking practical.

>A linen undershirt

>A wool tunic or dress

>A sash of brightly died fabric, often a more expensive piece made of higher quality rarer cloth such as cotton, with more expensive dyes imported from outside the village.

>Hemp fiber apron, made of a singular flat rectangle, tied with a simple string around the waist, under the sash. More recent fashion trends dictate a pocket be sewn onto the front.

>Sturdy wool trousers

>Simple hide boots held up with string. Thicker boots would be worn in winter.

>The hems of clothes and borders are quilted and embroidered with bright dyes and geometric patterns. The main body of the clothing is rarely patterned, though more formal pieces sometimes might have images embroidered onto them.

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

The Last Time...?

Joe Elliott x Reader

Masterlist

This fic contains smut. Under 18s DNI

I thought that when I married the love of my life that it would never come to an end. Sitting at the kitchen table with divorce papers in front of me was not something I had ever pictured in my life. 

*

The day I married Joe was the best day of my life. I remembered it like it was yesterday. The pure white dress that I wore, the smell of the roses, Joe’s band all dressed up and most importantly, Joe stood at the end of the aisle with watery eyes and a blinding smile. 

I held his hands as we exchanged vows, tears streaming down my face. Joe kissed me for the first time as my husband. The whole day was perfect. Friends and family gathered around us, celebrating a marriage that everyone thought would stand the test of time. 

Joe had refused to sing on our wedding day, opting to not leave my side, his hand glued to mine. When we cut the cake and fed it to each other, he had made a cheeky joke which I could only hope that my great aunt hadn’t heard. The band certainly had and I could see them all almost rolling over with laughter. 

Steve had been there and although him and Phil had promised not to cause any trouble, the glint in their eyes was all too familiar. I couldn’t find it in me to be angry though. It wouldn’t be a wedding with some kind of shenanigans.

The honeymoon was even better. Days spent on the beach, sipping cocktails and exploring the island. Nights were spent between the sheets, neither of us could get enough of the other. The new weight on my left hand provided more comfort than anything in my life had before.

After we came home everything was perfect for a while. Dancing around in the kitchen, cuddled up with a hot chocolate on a winter night or on the patio during the summer. Kisses shared in the morning and in the evening. Late night conversations of the future and how many kids we wanted. Our life was a dream.

Until it wasn’t. Joe had to tour. With each tour came time apart and whilst I trusted him fully, I knew that there would be other women throwing themselves all over my husband. Initially, Joe had wanted me to go with him, insisting money was never a problem and that he would always take care of me.

However, I had been raised to always make my own money and not to rely on anyone else to provide for me. So I insisted on staying home so that I could work. Obviously 

I wanted to be with Joe and the time spent away from him caused more pain. 

*

That’s what led us to this. Sitting in the house that I used to share with Joe. I no longer lived there and had found a small house to rent a few miles away. Joe sat opposite me as he watched me read over the papers. He had given me 50% of everything, wanting a clean break. 

It was clear that the separation was not caused by falling out of love with each other but more that we couldn’t live together with the lifestyles we both had.

“Before I sign this.” I started, pushing back tears. “I need you to know that I never wanted it to come to this.”

“I know.” Joe sighed. He refused to look at me as he fiddled with the hand which still, for now, held his wedding ring. I watched him as he played with his ring. Despite the solemn look on his face all I could think about was that he never looked more handsome than right at this moment.

“I do love you Joe.” I whispered as I went to reach for the pen.

“I know that as well.” I halted my movement as I looked up at him, only to see his green eyes staring back at me. “I love you too.”

I smiled through the tears as I started to let them fall, jumping slightly as I felt his guitar-worn fingers wipe my face gently. I couldn’t help but gaze into the same eyes that I fell in love with, unable to comprehend that this was going to be the last time that I could do that. That one day there would be someone else looking into those eyes, someone else would hold him at night and love him the way he deserved.

Whilst looking at his green orbs, I failed to notice him inching his face towards mine. As a reflex, I felt my eyes flutter shut as his lips grazed against mine, I almost couldn’t believe he was there due to how light the kiss was. 

I opened my eyes to see him already looking at me intently, studying my face to guess my reaction. It didn’t take long for me to crash my lips back onto his as I felt my hand go up to his hair. I felt Joe pull me to stand up as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

I felt my body press up against his in the most familiar way, bringing tears to my eyes again. Clinging onto him tighter, knowing this might be the last time, I didn’t want the kiss to end. I could taste the saltiness from my tears as I daren’t pull away. I was sure that Joe left bruise marks on my hips from how tightly he was gripping onto me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I had my hands in his hair, tugging gently, eliciting a moan from him. One of my favourite sounds. It was muscle memory the way that we moved against each other. I felt him pull away slightly and for a moment fear settled in my stomach as everything was about to end. However, the thought quickly left my mind when Joe started moving me backwards.

“Let’s go upstairs shall we?” He whispered against my lips. I didn’t hesitate to agree and the next thing I knew, I was being whisked into his arms and up the stairs. Wrapping my legs around Joe’s waist, I started trailing my lips along his neck, earning a groan of approval. 

Eventually, we ended up in our, previously shared, bedroom. He laid me down on the bed and he climbed on top of me, not wanting to be away from me for a second longer than he needed to be. It appeared to me that he was having the same thoughts as I was having. That this may be the last time we were ever going to be together. The last time we would ever be joined as one.

I tried not to think about that though as I felt his lips on mine again. The familiar sensation brought me comfort. I felt a tug at my shirt and I immediately assisted him in removing it. He then removed my bra and ran his calloused hands across my breasts, causing my nipples to harden. I let out a soft moan at the sensation and Joe quickly kissed me again, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.

I ran my hands up his back and underneath his shirt, pushing it up over his head, our lips disconnecting for only a second before Joe discarded the fabric in the same direction as my clothes. I gently dragged my nails down his back, eliciting a groan from his mouth. I always loved how vocal he could be in bed. It reminded me that I was doing a good job pleasing him. 

I moved my hands down to his trousers and Joe wasted no time in rolling off of me to remove them before removing mine, along with my underwear. I kissed Joe again as he climbed back up on top of me. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Joe asked with love in his voice, reminding me of just why I fell for him in the first place. The caring nature he naturally possessed had been endearing to me.

“More than sure Joe, please.” Joe wasted no time entering me for what could be the last time. Naturally, I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him in closer to me. There was not a millimetre of space between the two of us as Joe started to rock back and forth. my back arched so that my stomach was against his. One of his arms wrapped under my waist, keeping me in that position and the other was placed next to my head to keep him steady as he moved inside of me. 

Placing my lips on Joe’s neck, I trailed up and down, earning a groan and a particularly deep thrust in return. This pattern continued, I kissed his neck and dragged my nails down his back and he rewarded the actions with deeper thrusts. 

“Turn around for me sweetheart.” Joe whispered in my ear as he pulled out and sat up. I did as I was told and Joe moved me so that I was on my knees at the foot of the bed. Joe knelt behind me and I could see the pair of us in the mirror. 

Wrapping his arms around my front, I felt myself cling onto him as he re-entered me. I couldn’t help but watch the obscene sight in the mirror as Joe picked up his pace. I felt his face bury into the side of my neck, placing kisses there as he moved his hips. Letting out a moan, my eyelids fluttered shut, allowing myself to get lost in him.

“Joe.” I almost whined as I felt him lower one of his hands down to my clit. Rubbing gently, Joe whispered sweet nothings into my ear, reminding me of the first few years of our marriage. 

The thought of losing him caused me to hold onto his arm tighter. 

“Please.” I whispered.

“I know darlin’” Joe told me as he gripped tighter. “I’ve got you.”

I let out a few curses as I let go at his words, my orgasm hitting harder than it had in a while. The feeling of closeness tipping me over the edge. I felt Joe’s release as well causing me to sigh gently at the sensation.

Eventually Joe slouched from behind me, taking me with him. The two of us laid on the bed together wrapped up in each other's arms. I knew that we should get ourselves cleaned up but I also knew that if I left his arms then I may never enter them again, and that wasn’t a risk I was willing to take just yet.

Deciding to bite the bullet, I broke the silence that had enveloped the pair of us.

“Is there no way through this?”

“I don’t know love.” Joe sighed

“Because I don’t want to lose you Joe.”

“You think I really want this either? When we said our vows, I never thought divorce would be an option.”

Turning around I faced my husband.

“Then why are we doing this? Why did we let ourselves fall apart like this?” When I was met with quiet, I carried on. “We have to be able to work through this.”

Joe swiped some hair out of my face before trailing his fingers down my cheek.

“How?”

“I’ll work remotely.” I told him.

“Y/N/N sweetheart, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You're not asking. I can’t be on tour with you all the time but I can come with you some of the time. I’ll do whatever it takes to stay married to you.”

“You love your job though, how can I ask you to change it all for me?”

“Yes, I love my job, but I love you more. When I moved out I was miserable. I would rather change how I work than be without you.” I told him sincerely, not breaking eye contact.

“Oh love.” Joe mumbled as he leaned down to kiss me. “We’ll work on this okay, we’ll get through this.”

That was all I needed for now, the idea of staying in my husband’s arms rather than going back to an empty house. I had no idea how long it would take, but I didn’t care. I’d walk to the ends of the earth for the man holding me in that moment. As we clung onto each other, the pair of us forgot about the divorce papers that I had left abandoned on the kitchen table. There was no doubt that they would be torn up later anyway.

Placing a final kiss on his lips, I allowed myself to fall asleep in my husband’s arms.

[thistransient]

How was Ladakh? I heard it's very scenic, I've been meaning to visit.

I've been mulling this over for a while, because this trip to Ladakh was also my first time in India, and thus the two things are a bit intertwined. Also one must take into consideration that most of what I saw outside of Leh, I saw while clinging to the back of a motorbike, often wondering if I was sustaining brain damage. I suspected the natural wonders were twice as awe-inspiring when observed with the knowledge that they could be the last thing I ever saw. If you want to go on two wheels, do get proper gear and think twice about riding pillion.

That said, it really was gorgeous out there.

If you like mountains, it's the place to be. If you like Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, it's also the place to be. I wasn't sure what to expect in regards to human interactions, but on my own in Leh there was basically no hassle from strangers. If anything the hassle was that the tour office the guesthouse recommended did not have anyone going on the route I wanted to take- which was how I ended up on a motorcycle trek with some random guys from the guesthouse to begin with. For the rest of it, they handled everything, for which I'm eternally grateful.

If you get the chance to go, go! I'm glad I went, but if I could go back in time I'd also be better prepared for the elements- despite copious amounts of sunblock eventually I had to accept that I was just going to be sunburnt, cracked, and chapped, with dried out nasal passages. It also gets really cold, even in June. I didn't bring enough warm stuff cause I only had a carry-on and I figured I'd just buy something there (which inevitably I did), but then no one from any airline actually checked my luggage weight at any point, so I kinda wish I'd just brought a whole ass winter coat. Two weeks was also not enough, I stuck around Leh to acclimatise for 4 days (which felt like overkill at first but it was really a good idea), and only ended up seeing Nubra Valley, Pangong Tso, and Alchi Monastery with the guys. I had hoped to also see Tso Moriri and Hanle but was too worn out by the time they left, and spent the rest of my days hanging around Leh feeling rather ill.

All in all, I wasn't really sure what to expect in going, but it exceeded all expectations. I also think if I had not already been on enough terrible roads in various countries in the past, I might have been slightly overwhelmed. If I hadn't been in the company of people who were fond of street dogs (and finally desensitised me), I probably would not have had as good a time because there are a lot of them. They do make quite a racket at night, bring earplugs. In the end though, the pros certainly outweigh the cons (and obviously I survived and came back to tell the tale.) If you're looking for scenic, I give it 11/10, possibly more.

Final note, Indian SIM cards don't work in Ladakh, but the Ladakh SIM card works in India (I'm not sure about Jammu + Kashmir). J+K Bank ATMs did NOT want to dispense me cash with my foreign card (unfortunate because they were the only ones outside the city), but other banks worked fine.

[rightpastnowhere]

MORE. FOR U

Ok ok ok we all collectively will not shut up about how Percy is endeared by Vex's ears, right? well UNO REVERSE CARD! His lil round human ears are so fucking cute to Vex. It's also very funny for her to parse out how sensitive they are vs half-elven or elven ears.

In modern AUs their taste in music seems very different at a glance but meshes SUPER well. Percy is rocking to MCR and anime intros and Fallout Boy and old rock'n'roll (that his dad and Julius loved), Vex is grinding to pop and country, and everyone is like 'surely not' until they pull up to give Pike a ride and are just blasting a Taylor Swift song together (she joins in obviously). Or on a train sharing earbuds and the poor folks the next seats over can hear Monster by Skillet from there and these two are mouthing along and sharing Dramatic Looks.

Trinket keeps bringing cubs home. He's a male bear, bears don't raise cubs in pairs (males don't participate at ALL), but he's a Ranger companion and lives as long as Vex does. And given he's a fit specimen he's probably the sire of a lot of cubs in the area (Vex and the Grey Hunt have got to watch out for inbreeding effects KJTRNHRKN). So every now and then he'll find a hurt or abandoned or sick cub and bring it back, and Vex nurses it back to health (and Dan too), and suddenly they Have Another Bear. Oh Dear. Sometimes Vex and Trinket make a conscious effort to train the cubs to live in the wild and release them a ways away once they're old enough, but the three bears we see in C3 is Only The Beginning.

The first time Percy tried really growing a beard, Vesper made Unhappy Faces when he'd give her kisses and in a fit he shaved it all off. He needed some talking-tos about it. His baby girl was SO upset and it make HIM upset OKAY -

It's advised that guests do not wander the halls of Castle Whitestone alone at night. They assume, naturally, that this is due to Ghosts or Restless Spirits - no the de Rolos are just. like that. Cass would rather everyone avoid the trauma of hearing them having a good time. Also the kids' darkvision means they have shining pupils if light hits them in the dark and someone fell down the stairs once so there's that too.

Percy fucking agonizes over blue now. Getting a gift to match Vex's feather takes up at least 3-12 hours of a given project. At this point he has custom paints mixed for it and will scour stalls and shops for gems of the right turquoise.

He also owns way more fur than he'd expect, because Vex is a ranger and can at least make a decent muffler or trim for mittens or ruff for his winter coat out of some of her more impressive catches. His favorite, though, is a tiny fur thing that's badly worn. Vex insists it's a bird. *it does not look like a bird,* it looks like a pointed rock with two bead eyes. It was the first thing she tried making him and it, well, it didn't come out as she'd expected. He still stims with it often, it practically lives in his pocket - like she was in Pandemonium, when VM were transformed into birds. She says she hates it, but his earnest adoration for this little silly thing she made really makes Vex so damn happy.

OH MY GOD SHE WOULD LOVE HIS EARS,,, HIS LIL ROUNDED EARS,,, SO SOFT N ROUND,,,,,,,, OMG

YOUR MUSIC TASTES FOR THEM ARE SO IN LINE WITH WHAT'S IN MY HEAD NGKJRNGK. vex imo has the most chaotic playlists because there's just one for all of her music. it switches from lizzo to mumford & sons without rhyme nor reason. and they WOULD be taylor swift stans with pike i LOVE THIS. AND GOD,, THE MENTAL IMAGE OF HER AND PERCY DRAMATICALLY LIP-SYNCING LIKE HUGE NERDS..... MY CROPS ARE WATERED. MY SKIN IS CLEAR

THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING NGKJRNKJGNR i simply think vex deserves an entire legion of bears who love her, and many of them on the castle grounds. only the best for the grand mistress of bears. (trinket mimicking vex's adopting behavior is SO CUTE I'M GONNA CRY)

percy upsets his baby One Time and suddenly he must change everything about himself. i love him so much i cannot stand it

NKGJNKJENG the de rolos fuck nasty and it is a burden upon those who think themselves to be fearless... my heart goes out to the unlucky few who dare. ALSO THE FUCKING. QUARTER ELVES. JUST LIKE A BUNCH OF CATS IN THE KITCHEN AT 2AM WHEN YOU WANT A SNACK. IS PERFECTION.

GERKGNERJN percy will do anything to maintain his wife's aesthetic

VEX CRAFTING HIM THINGS...... PERCY KEEPING HER FIRST LIL BAUBLE BECAUSE HE LOVES HER................ STIMMING WITH IT CAUSE IT'S SOFT................................ picturing vex finding out and endeavoring to acquire so many soft things, making him a bunch more knick-knacks once she's better at it, wearing soft clothes, just, oh my GOD she loves him SO MUCH

thank you again for this absolute unfathomable joy, i squeaked out loud at least 3 times, i am full of serotonin once more