#or glitter as you prefer friends her name was a pun anyways

[millecrepe]

Gritta and Kagura being best friends commission I got from my friend @hazardlevei aren’t they absolutely lovely? Best girls alert!!!!

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

The One With The Merry Little Christmas

Summary: The chill at this year’s Lawrence City Fire Department’s Christmas party has nothing to do with the snow falling outside and everything to do with the Dean and Y/n. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K+

Warnings: Language, implied smut, angst (with a happy ending, no pun intended)

Author’s Note: Ah, can you smell Christmas in the air already? Cause I can! Anyway, this fic was written for @smol-and-grumpy​ ‘s SuperFriends Title Challenge, The One With The Friends With Benefits, and @janicho88​ 100 Followers Supernatural Christmas Celebration with, of course, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. These both kind of morphed into the same idea so I decided to combine them. I hope you guys enjoy xoxo and a very Merry Christmas -Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on

Our troubles will be out of sight

Across the small town, snow covered the streets of Lawrence, Kansas, the massive, fluffy flakes continuing to fall as the street lights came on that evening. The town was quiet, the blanket of snow muffling the ambient sound in the winter evening. Just south of downtown sat the city’s one modest fire station. The golden brick building was glittering with red and white twinkle lights, the glow lighting up the street for a few feet in either direction. Music could be heard bumping on the sidewalk from inside the building, its inhabitants sure to be enjoying their company Christmas party. 

Inside, the common room was filled to the brim with the entirety of the company and their loved ones. The kids were chasing each other around the bases of the fire poles. A few of the older ones knew enough to jump full force on the metal to pull open the chute at the top, entertaining the younger ones each time the plastic split open, their giggles chiming in with the festive holiday music the Captain had found in his playlists earlier that day. 

Food and drink littered the expanse of the countertops. Anything one could have been craving was set out for the group to enjoy. Dean was pouring himself a soda since this was his year to be on shift during the party and he had to behave. The fireman had grumbled about it when he stopped by his best friend’s apartment to drop off the ingredients for her taco dip. The taco dip she had only agreed to make for him if he purchased the product. After all, the woman had already made a few dozen sugar cookies for the festivities as her own contribution this year. She politely reminded him then that he could get as pissed as he wanted next year. Not that her words much appeased the Winchester. 

The first responder turned to his buddy and coworker, who was filling another bowl with his famous chili, and held up the red plastic cup with a mock look of disgust, “What is the point of Coke if it doesn’t come with any Jack?” 

“A suga’ rush?” The Cajun drawled in his signature accent. Dean snorted, bringing the cup to his lips when the object was snatched from his hand before the two could meet. 

“Hey--” he spun on his heel, coming to face to face with his best friend. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked over the rim of the cup at him. “Come on, you don’t want that, there’s no rum.”

“Sure,” the woman wet her lower lip before taking a sip of the soda that Dean had poured for himself. 

“Satisfied?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, holding out his hand for his drink back. 

“For now,” she admonished. “But I’m watching you, Winchester.” 

“That’s hurtful, Y/n/n.” Dean placed his hand over his heart, giving his friend the puppy dog look that he had learned from his little brother. A peak of a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked at him before it faltered once again. Finally, she relented and gave the drink back to its rightful owner. 

“I’d say more like rightfully cautious,” the other firefighter chimed in on their conversation, earning an elated grin from the woman standing across from him. Y/n clapped her hands together like a child, her tongue peeking between her teeth as she bounced on her toes. Placing his arm over Dean’s shoulder, Benny added, “Right, Dean-o?”

“You two are incorrigible,” Dean lamented, shrugging his friend’s arm away from him. The pair laughed at Dean’s irritation as Y/n scooted her way in between Dean and the drink table. 

Dean internally cringed as Benny chose then to walk away, leaving the two friends alone for the first time that evening. The thing was, the air between the two friends was actually colder than the snow that blanketed the town outside the fire station. He knew that Y/n was putting on a show for everyone in the station since she couldn’t get out of going to the party last minute, which he also knows she would have preferred. The woman was as much a part of their work-family as she was her own family. That was what happened when best friends were joined at the hip for over fifteen years. There was no way she was getting out of going without raising suspicion, and Y/n was too private of a person to deal with answering questions that her absence would have surely raised. 

As much as people like to think they know the real woman, she only has ever fully opened up to two people in her life, her mother and Dean. No one else has ever stuck around long enough to try and break down that wall that she had put up around herself. If Dean wasn’t just as stubborn as her he might have stopped trying a long time ago, but he was determined to get to know the real woman no matter how hard she seemed to try to stop him. 

In the grand scheme of things, he supposes that’s is why it was so easy for them to fall into their friends with benefits relationship. One post-breakup, alcohol-fueled night in bed together two years ago had begun the whole thing. It didn’t take them long after they woke the next morning to realize the cliche arrangement could be just what both of them needed. Even still, Dean could count on his hands how many times in total they had spent in the other’s bed. 

The most recent of which just happened to be last night. Dean had stopped by with dinner for his friend and the ingredients for the dip he had conned her into making. A few glasses of wine later, as it usually did go, and the two of them enjoyed their time together. But it wasn’t the sex that was the problem, it was the conversation after. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the yuletide gay

From now on

Our troubles will be miles away

Dean ran a hand through his sweaty hair as Y/n climbed from the bed in search of her strewn articles of clothing. She picked up the various garments, throwing them in her hamper as she passed by it and into her ensuite bathroom. 

“Why are you so quiet?” Dean’s voice carried across the room and over the sound of the shower starting. He pulled himself out of the bed and slipped on his boxer briefs as he followed after her. 

The woman bit her tongue as she tested the temperature of the water. It was only a matter of time before Dean caught on to her charade. Some days she hates how well he knows her. It’s not that she wants to keep secrets from her best friend but it can be downright creepy when he basically reads her mind. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” he questioned, stepping into the bathroom as she climbed into the shower. 

“How to tell you something,”

“Alright, you’re kind of scaring me, Y/n/n,”

Allowing the hot water to cascade down her face and body, Y/n took a deep breath before choosing to answer him, “It’s Sean.”

“As in douchebag Sean?”

“Dean, do you have to call him that?” she sighed, having already expected this reaction from him. 

“Yes, because he is one. You know what, douchebag is the nicest thing I could be calling him right now,” Dean countered, leaning against the bathroom vanity, his arms crossing over his freckled chest at the mention of that prick’s name. 

“He wants to get coffee,” her voice was low, knowing her admission was about to rile up the man on the other side of the curtain. She wasn’t even sure he had heard at first, that was until he whipped the curtain open.

“What?!” 

“Jesus!” Instinctively, her hands flew to protect her modesty as her heart tried to escape from her chest. “Dean, what the hell?”

“I could say the same thing to you! Do you not remember what that jackhole put you through over the last year, because I do. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time.” 

“You think I don’t know that? It’s just coffee, he didn’t ask me to move in with him?” Y/n spit back, her stance relaxing along with her heart. 

“But you and I both know that all it takes is one look at those blue eyes and you’ll be putty in his hands. You can’t go.” The way the last three words came out of his mouth, the definitive tone behind, it them was enough to get her blood boiling underneath her skin. 

“Oh, I can’t? Is that an order, Lieutenant?” The title rolled off her tongue, her eyes hardening as she stared at Dean. “Last time I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“You know that’s not what this is. Y/n/n, I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want to see him screw up your life again. I was there to pick up the pieces last time and I don’t want to do it again.”

“Well I can guarantee you won’t ever have to do it again,” her voice was low, her words steady even though her eyes were filled with unshed tears. 

“You know that’s --”

“Get out!” she commanded suddenly, stopping him before he could say anything else. Her eyes scrunched closed, willing herself to not look at her closest friend, the one person she was supposed to be able to count on as he let her down. 

“Y/n,”

“I said get out!” 

Here we are as in olden days

Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gather near to us, once more

That was the last time the two of them said anything to each other until she walked into the fire station a little over two hours ago. He had to give it to her, she was putting on a good show, even messing around with him like usual. But he could see the truth in her eyes when she looked at him. Y/n was pissed, but most of all, she was hurt. 

Dean turned around, leaning against the counter to face her. The woman didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choose to continue with preparing herself a drink, one with a bit more whiskey than needed, but he wasn’t going to comment on that. “I’m glad you are here,” he tried instead. 

“Well, I haven’t seen Sam and Jessica and the kids in a while, I wasn’t going to miss out on that because you are an ass,” she noted, still choosing to not look at him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“No, you never do, do you?” She swallowed thickly, turning on Dean, the flicker of a flame telling the experienced first responder it was best not to stoke the fire. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like minutes to them, when in reality, it was merely a few seconds, the bubble they were in being popped by Dean’s niece running and crashing herself into his legs. 

“Uncle Dean!” She cheered, reaching up with her short arms as he bent down to pick her up. He situated the little girl on his hip as she squealed in delight. “Can I have another cookie?” Her tone dropped, the small child looking up at her only uncle from underneath her insanely long lashes. 

“How many is that now?” He asked her, the glint of a smirk on his face. 

“Uh… two,” she held up two fingers, her argument completely unconvincing. 

“Uhhuh, I bet,” Dean grumbled, but he knew in his heart he couldn’t say no to that face. “Okay, one more cookie, but you can’t tell on me to you Daddy. He thinks sugar is for suckers.” 

“Promise.” The little girl held up her pinky to her uncle, one of the first things he ever taught the kid because he knew he was a sucker from day one and he was not trying to get into trouble with his little brother over it. Even if it never worked to his advantage.

Dean held up his pinky and wrapped it around hers. He shrugged to Y/n before taking his niece over to the sweets table. In reality, Dean knew the conversation needed to be over, it wasn’t the time or place, but if there was one thing he hated more than anything it was fighting with Y/n. It felt like a piece of him was missing when he couldn’t talk to her or see her, and if he was being honest with himself that kind of scared him. When he became so codependent on her he couldn’t be sure. It just felt like she had always been there, and always should be, right by his side. 

Clara tried to steal a second cookie as Dean helped her pick out the first, but he knew he would be in it if he let her get away with that one, so he made sure it got put back. When he turned around to set the five-year-old down, he noticed Y/n was gone. He scanned the whole room and couldn’t find her anywhere in the mix of people. 

As suspected, the little girl rushed right to her Daddy, who scowled at his brother. Dean offered a shrug and a smirk as he made his way over to Sam. “Don’t you start with me too.”

“Oh, it’s not me you have to answer to, it’s Jess because she’s the one that has to put her down tonight.” 

“Eh, she’ll forgive me, I’m her favorite brother-in-law,” Dean waved off his brother. 

“You’re her only brother-in-law.” 

“Whatever. Did you see where Y/n went?” 

Sam crossed his arms, his brows rising on his forehead, “Looked like she was headed outside.” Dean pursed his lips, two small dimples forming at the corners. “Did you two fight?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“No, but you are all brooding and pensive right now,” Sam moved his hand in a flourish in front of Dean as he spoke. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, what’s going on with you two?” The taller brother pushed for Dean to talk, and he pondered his pros and cons of answering. 

“Sean wants to have coffee with her?” Dean said, nonchalant. 

“And?” 

“And the guy is a dick, she deserves better.” 

“Better? Like you?” Sam tried to hide the amusement from his features as Dean whipped his head from where he was staring at the door to his little brother. 

“What?” Dean’s voice rose an octave at his brother’s question. 

“Oh come on, I know you guys have been sleeping together for a while now.” 

“Sam, it’s not what you think,” Dean sighed before running his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s only happened a handful of times.” 

“And?” Sam shook his head, trying to convey his meaning to his brother. “Listen, you guys have known each other for longer than I’ve known Jessica. You spend all your free time together. You are basically a couple which I would say without the sex but we all know you are doing that too, so basically a couple. Why can’t you just man up and tell her how you feel?” 

“Cause I don’t know how I feel? It’s never felt like a relationship with her. It’s just always been easy.” 

“That’s how it should be, Dean. The two of you are perfect for each other. I think you owe it yourselves to at least try.” Sam urged.

“And what if it all blows up?”

“What if it all works out?” Sam countered. “Every relationship is either going to end in forever or end in a breakup, but that doesn’t mean that you just don’t try. Take the leap, Dean.”

“I hate you, you know that,” Dean grimaced, knowing that his brother was right. While he had never thought of Y/n like that before they slept together the first time, he couldn’t ignore the chemistry they had together. She was his other half, he already admits to that, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t amazing sex. Sam was right, how would admitting anything be different than how they already lived their lives together?

“Yeah, well, I’ll say I told you so at your wedding,” Sam clapped his older brother’s shoulder before running off after his toddler. Dean glared after his brother, he hated when he was right, mostly because Sam loved to say ‘I told you so’. 

Through the years

We all will be together

If the fates allow

Hang a shining star

Upon the highest bough

The firefighter stalked off towards his locker to grab his jacket before following out the doors that lead to the side of the firehouse. If Y/n went out, that’s where she would be, sulking in the shadows. Cold air swirled in to replace the heat from inside as he opened the door, the rush of it sending a chill through his body. He zipped up the coat as he went down the few stairs, finding her sitting there on the stoop. 

“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighed when she looked up to see it was him that had followed her. 

“Then just listen?” He quirked one brow at her, waiting for her invitation before taking a seat next to her. “I know that you are hurting and I wanted to start by saying I’m sorry. It was never my intent to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“I just… I can’t stand seeing you so down. Sean hurt you badly and I didn’t want you to allow him to do it again. You deserve so much more than that.” Dean pulled his arms in closer to his body as the chill of the night set into his bones and the snow continued to fall around them. 

“It was just coffee Dean, not a marriage proposal.”

“Yeah, and I hate that even more,” Y/n looked up then, confusion written all over her features. “Y/n you know that you are the most important thing in my life, next to my brother. Hell, most times you outrank him. When we fight, or you go out of town, it’s like there is a piece of myself missing, I have this hole in my chest that only you can fill. I guess I never really understood what that meant in the grand scheme of things.” 

“Dean,”

“You know I love you right?” He cut her off.

“Of course I do. I love you too,” The word rolled off the tip of her tongue like honey. Like it was the most simple thing in the world. Because she did love him, and she had for as long as she’d known the eldest Winchester. 

“But Y/n/n, I think I’m in love with you,” Dean held her gaze, his amber green eyes searching hers for the words she had yet to utter. The girl across from him could feel her chest filling with emotion, the confession by her favorite firefighter igniting something long dormant inside her. 

“You do?” Tears were threatening to overflow her eyelids, the feeling inside her needing to escape somewhere. She wasn’t in control anymore, her voice cracking with her words. 

“I do,” he nodded, affirming his words to himself as well as her. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought that maybe we could give us a chance.” 

“Us?” Dean nodded, at a loss for what she was thinking for the first time in a long time. “I like the sound of that, us.” Y/n repeated the words with a snort,  a coy smile upturning one side of her mouth. Dean’s breath hung in the air as he waited for her to continue. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Yes, Winchester.” The woman shook her head as he sighed, his body visibly relaxing next to her. Dean took his hand out of his jacket pocket, cupping her cold cheek in its warmth. A bright smile lit up her face as he ran his thumb over her reddened nose and down over her bottom lip. “Just kiss me already.”

“Is that an order?” He threw her words back at her, earning a fist to the chest. Her nose scrunched up as she playfully scowled at him. Dean felt her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket before she was pulling him to her, their lips meeting in the middle. Both of them were hesitant, this being their first kiss that wasn’t alcohol-fueled or rushed. Dean opened his mouth to her just as the alarm inside the firehouse sounded sending the two of them apart as if they had been electrocuted. 

“I’ve gotta go,” Dean silently cursed the universe’s timing. 

“Go save lives,” she patted down his jacket against his chest as her fingers unraveled themselves from the material. Dean pecked her chilled nose before getting up and running to the door, pausing as he pulled it open to turn back to her. 

“Wait for me?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @miss-nerd95​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @suckmyapplejacks​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​

[declxns]

u know how it b.........smash that mf like to hmu to plot y’all.

[ brenton thwaites, cismale, he/him, 29 ] BELIEVE by ROMES? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of DECLAN HOLM. maybe because they’re INTUITIVE but also CRITICAL. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since JUNE of 2013 in 211 and have 1 ROOMMATE.

tw: abuse, alcoholism, homophobia 

i want to just start by saying...........declan is one of my oldest and most loved muses........he is my son and i pray u like him asdfghj this isn’t his usual fc so im a little shook but......this boi is so pretty so we out here let’s do it lets GO

first things first......declan is ur local 6′5″ hair stylist by day, drag queen by night

he was born and raised in boston. his mom is an elementary school teacher and his dad worked as a cop. it was the three of them for a little while and then his little sister came along

his dad was…..a real pos. he was an abusive alcoholic w anger issues and often took it out on declan and his mom.

as a kid he would secretly dress up in his mom’s clothes when his parents were at work, parading around the house in her heels and giving himself and also his sister makeovers

his dad eventually out and things got a lot worse. living with his dad was…..somewhat bearable before because declan had just assumed it was normal for a dad to be like that?? he thought that’s just how dads were?? but….after he found out about the all of the dressing up it got pretty impossible to deal with.

eventually, when he was 12, his parents split up and his mom got custody of him & his sister and they moved across town. even though they weren’t together anymore, his dad would still harass his mom and follow her around and threaten her and all this shit, which lasted a few more years, so they ended packing their things and moving away

declan & his family came to baltimore when he was sixteen and he’s been here ever since. he never really pictured himself anywhere but boston but.....he’s here and he luvs it

it was at this time that he formally came out as gay and everyone was like……………ya bitch we know..............ur not foolin anyone u idiot

he was seventeen when he started getting into drag him and some friends snuck into a show and he like….....had this whole epiphany and he’s been doing drag ever since.

he was lowkey bullied a lot in high school and drag became a way for him to like…..express himself and get all of his frustrations out.

as a teenager he was horribly shy and insecure and….honestly just a mess. had very few friends and kept to himself a lot. but since he started drag he’s come out of his shell completely and is now……a friendly and loud and sarcastic piece of shit that u probably wish u never met lmaoooo

he still kind of keeps to himself in the sense that he doesn’t often talk about himself or his personal life unless he’s v close to you. he’s been thru some shit and prefers to keep that to himself u know ??? so…..very few people know about his personal life

during the day he works as a hair stylist, which he’s been doing for quite a few years now & he rly likes.

and by night he hits the clubs to perform in drag. his drag persona is named kristen mingle (pls........i hope y’all understand this pun) and he would describe her as a slutty clown. she’s a twelve foot tall (in reality it’s closer to 7 ft tall since he’s 6′5″ w/out heels) model with legs for days who’s always serving fish on a platter. kristen is very feminine and fashion forward but ultimately…..a true comedy queen

now he’s just……living his life, doing his thing, being a lil bitch. u know. havin a good time

ok time for the lil extra info

he’s quite the bookworm & loves to read. enjoys both the simpler and the finer things in live. for example, catch him reading a book in the bubble bath with glass of v expensive wine

he’s 100000% a wine mom

tries to quit smoking every other week but never succeeds

in terms of like hobbies he’s definitely more reserved ig?? like he would much rather sit at home & drink & gossip or watch netflix or play games or just go out on a long drive somewhere or something then go out and drink and dance?? which is…kind of funny bc he’s literally out at clubs performing basically every night but yolo.

his apartment is v tastefully decorated. that shit looks straight out of a magazine and then u go into the spare room and it’s just.........full of WIGS

he’s probably always got glitter on him

definitely doesn’t date too much ?? he’s a pretty funny & friendly guy when it comes down to it but he also is just like v picky and has p high standards when it comes to dating ig

lowkey kind of a stoner

probably has a bumpin insta page

only bottoms for Love

he’s kind of mean asdfghj but usually he means well?????

anyway he’s a lil bitch & i hope y’all love him i can’t think of what else to say he’s just annoying tbH

peep his pinterest here if u want

i dont have any super specific wcs at the momenT because i’m trash but??? he’s lived in town and in the building for quite some time so....throw everything at me pls. ppl from high school, ex-boyfriends and one night stands, let him put u in drag, idk, i want it All

[themalicealyce]

Sarcasm and Puns: Chapter Two

You’re an introverted person, have been all of your life but it wasn’t as if you were shy, you were just content to have your only friends be your brother and your roommate. Though when your brother’s young daughter makes friends with the human ambassador of monsters you open up to the idea of having a larger group of friends.

Everything seems much slower in autumn, the chill in the air causes the world to screech to a crawl as the leaves change, even the city seemed less lively. You always thought this was true but over the course of the last couple of years you discovered there was an exception to the hushed state that this time of year brought. This break from the lull of dreary, sluggish afternoons came in the form of a hyper six year old, fresh out of school, tugging you towards the playground with the single minded determination of a freight train.

Slow burn, like really slow and lots of friendship with the whole group. Originally posted on AO3.

You basically had to drag Morrigan away from the park and by that time the sun had started to sink low in the sky. It wasn’t quite setting, but it was definitely getting late in the afternoon. The earlier azure expanse had been morphed into a gradient mixture of oranges that faded from red to pink to an inky indigo that was partially obscured by the looming grey clouds. These clouds seemed ever present during this time of year and they had only drawn closer together since this morning in a threat of rain, darkening further as you continued in your walk. Unaware or maybe just blissfully uncaring of the general lethargic look of the world around her your niece had held your hand and skipped the whole way back to your brother's place. She told you about her day at school, her hair and backpack bouncing along with her carefree rhythm. Morrigan finally seemed to be settling into the new city and that made you able to breathe a little easier about the decision to press your brother into moving closer to you. For the past few months she had pouted and protested about leaving all her first-grade friends behind and had seemed just as resistant to the unfamiliar school. Your brother seemed to immediately pick up on her sudden change in mood as well, happily taking Toriel’s phone number when you gave it to him in a whirlwind of relieved excitement.

Lost in a haze of your thoughts, you barely even noticed when you came face to face with your apartment door. You chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence to find yourself suddenly home after a long session of daydreaming. You pulled your keys out of your pocket with a small smile, you were prepared to sit back on the couch and spend the remainder of your day pleasantly zoned out. Life seemed against you though. You heard a clattering noise followed by a loud yelp coming from inside the small living space. You briefly let your forehead fall against the solid wood of the door with a dull thud accompanied by an annoyed sigh that passed through your lips in a manner that felt all too routine. Pushing yourself away from the door you steadied yourself before easily managing to get it unlocked, taking a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever could possibly be waiting for you inside. You flung the door open, perhaps a little more dramatically than strictly necessary, though you would make an adamant argument for your theatrics. You scanned the open layout of your apartment for the source of the disturbance.

Finding it quickly, you stood in the door frame frozen in your tracks, unable to do much more than stare, slightly bewildered, because this was certainly a new sight to come home to. The living room was much more of a mess than normal. All of it seemed to culminate in a cluttered disarray towards the center of the room. You felt yourself caught somewhere between a disappointed groan and unstoppable laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of what was happening.

Your roommate was sat with his back to you, pressed against the coffee table with his legs crossed. He had gotten out what appeared to be one of your old decks of playing cards and was surrounded by what had to be a new case of shiny store-bought plastic poker chips that were scattered haphazardly across the hardwood. He had ditched his usual jacket, it lay flung across the sofa and his hair that was cut short on the sides with the top was dyed a slightly metallic cyan color was messily sticking out in nearly every direction looking like a melted mohawk. He had grabbed onto a tiny black and white kitten that squirmed and let out annoyed little mewls in his hands. He had been trying to force it to play cards, of course he was. He whined distraught when the cat knocked over one of the few stacks of chips that was still standing, even though they were stacked far too high and were bound to fall over anyway. Your recently adopted kitty mewed indignantly and wriggled again, though still weakly, in his hands trying to wander off, unamused by his antics.

"Aw, come on! You’re not even trying!" he reprimanded the cat in a huff before snuggling the small, bored animal closer to him. "Vincent Evan Warren. Will you stop harassing my poor kitten every time I leave you unsupervised?" you asked using your best scolding mother voice as you finally shut the door behind you and tossed your keys onto the kitchen counter.

Vincent, to his credit, managed to look sheepish for a moment at the stern use of his full name, though that quickly dropped into a child-like frown. "I'm not harassing him! I'm teaching Sir Hemsworth how to play Texas hold 'em. He's not a very good at it though." You sighed, failing to repress the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose in a defeated gesture even as you felt a small, amused smile start to creep its way onto your face. "His name is Hemlock." you told him calmly for the umpteenth time since you brought the kitten home. Vincent looked at you as if he was considering the information then lifted the cat up to his ear like a small child might when speaking to a stuffed animal, his short stature and large, round eyes completing the innocent look.

"What's that? Yes?" Vincent thoughtfully nodded along, playfully over acting. "Okay, I'll tell her." he looked up at you pulling the cat away from his face and setting the ball of monochromatic fluff down on his lap. "Sir Hemsworth says Hemlock is a depressing name and prefers the title that the Queen of Kitties bestowed upon him after he was knighted for saving that bus full of baby red pandas." he commented in an off handed manner as if it was common knowledge, already dealing new hands for himself and the tiny cat. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling maniacally because your roommate was such a child sometimes and you knew it was one of the reasons he was your best friend.

“You are a complete and utter dork.” you smirked when you stifled your laughter and regained your breath. He broke into the first real smile since you came in. “Na.” he waved off the comment and made a vague attempt to gather up the poker chips near him into a sloppy pile.

"You don’t get to just say ‘na’ dork.” you shook your head as you walked over to the couch. "Yeah, whatever. Even if I was a dork, not that I will ever admit to that, you would love me anyway." Vincent smirked pushing the cards away, abandoning the endeavor entirely, instead standing to join you.

"I'm not calling him that by the way, no matter how many dumb heroic stories you make up." you added as you slumped ungracefully down on the couch and grabbed the remote that was half buried underneath the mess he made from the table in front of you. "Well I'm not calling him Hemlock." he quipped back, stealing the remote out of your hand as he sat down next to you and turned on the tv. Immediately upon lighting up, the screen displayed a rather flamboyant looking, pink and black, humanoid robot in the middle of whatever campy straight to tv movie that was currently playing. You recognized the robotic monster immediately, flashy costume doing nothing to hide his unique appearance.

You groaned dramatically, looking from the scene to Vincent. “Really?” Vincent had overrun your TV’s DVR with Mettaton, which you couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than his previous anime obsession that ruined your Netflix queue. He innocently turned to give you an oblivious smile "What?" he asked. "He's pretty freaking awesome," he shrugged at your continued deadpan look of judgement. "Don't even act like you don’t binge watch his cooking show in secret like a really lame guilty pleasure." he added, ignoring your distaste to focus back on the screen.

"Well I can't watch it with you anymore.” You answered the accusation snidely. “What! Why?!” He gasped in indignation.

“The last time we did together, I came home the next day and it looked like a fucking glitter bomb detonated in our kitchen." you pointed out rolling your eyes thinking about how you still found stray sparkles in there sometimes. "THAT WAS LIKE ONE TIME!" he protested loudly, startling Hemlock who had nearly fallen asleep in front of the tv. You chuckled quietly to yourself at his sudden defensive tone and hummed noncommittally.

“Well now you get no coffee.” He huffed, getting off the couch wandering off to the kitchen. You could still see him because of the open layout of your shared apartment.

“Nooooo, you monster!” You called sarcastically after him flinging yourself dramatically across the couch with a hand across your forehead in a mock Victorian fainting spell.

Vincent couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. “Do you want some coffee?” He asked standing at the machine. “Na, I really don’t need to be up too late I got work in the morning.” You answered getting back up into a sitting position. “Well, that’s exactly why I need it.” He answered, easily working the machine. Vincent worked mostly online, but also took frequent trips out of town. He tried to explain it to you, but whenever somebody asked you what he did you gave the vague answer of ‘He works with computers or code or something.’ Soon enough, he was in his work position, laptop on his lap and coffee nearby, face buried in the screen while still listening to the tv. You and Vincent stayed up for a while after that, flipping through tv channels and talking about random things that crossed your minds. This went on until it was past the point that you should have gone to bed especially since you had work so early in the morning. You grunted a good night to your friend who by now was bleary eyed and surrounded by a couple of mugs that had held an unhealthy amount of coffee. He didn't even look up from his laptop as he gave you a weak wave that ended up looking more like he was shooing you from the room. You turned the tv volume down to a whisper and lazily rolled off the sofa shuffling off to your room with Hemlock yawning and following at your heels.

As soon as you crossed the threshold you shed your jacket off and switched out your jeans for a pair of soft pajama bottoms. You collapsed on your bed before leaning over the edge to lift Hemlock up as well since he was still too small to make the jump by himself. You rolled over and found yourself falling effortlessly into a dreamless sleep for the first time in days.

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Calorn AU Part 2 - Queenstrial

Note: This is a Red Queen Retelling in an AU. Things are a little more different from canon.

Find this on wattpad

Part 1

Part 3

Kilorn POV

For the first time in years, I slept as long as I wanted to. No one woke me up, commanding me to ge the boat ready. Because there was no one but me in the small house. It was a strange stituation, but one that wouldn't last long. Soon I would be a soldier, probably getting even less sleep than a fisherman.

Sleep wasn't nearly enough to chase off the hangover plaguing my body. I felt nauseous, my head felt as heavy as an anchor and I had to force myself to eat breakfast. Yet I smiled at the memories from last night, if only to keep the fear at bay. Cal. I whispered his name to myself. Cal. Cal.

I didn't expect to see him again, but I would cherish what we had last night, hoping it would get me through the rough time coming.

Cal was also the reason I felt so sick this morning. He'd had always the same drinks as me, but he couldn't get them down. I'd finished them for him while he'd promised to do better next time - he didn't and at the end of the night, hours past midnight, he had still been the drunker one of us.

His intoxicated giggles were the most adorable sound I'd ever heard.

Not that I'd remained sober in any way. I'd started to spill my story after a few drinks. About how my father had died and my mother abandoned me, about how I'd become a fisherman. I'd talked about how I'd lost my heart to Shade and he'd never managed to give me a yes or no; while his sister Mare was my best friend who would like to see the world. And I'd confessed that my hopes and expectations - if any Red had such - had been shattered with my Master's death.

Cal's face had turned serious the moment I'd mentioned this. His already well-defined and sharp-lined jaw tightened and his eyes, a golden orange similar to Shade's, had grown dark under his frown.

He had touched my shivering hand laying on the table and murmered, "I've been to the war before. I know how it is." He'd started to caress my fingers and I'd noticed my ragged breaths calming.

"How did you make it out alive?" I'd whispered, but then I'd wondered. "Don't you have a job? Why were you there?"

Cal had blinked for a moment. "I - my boss needed me there. He's quite the important veteran, you know? But - " he'd looked at my frown - "how the Reds have to fight, that's not, umm, how it's supposed to be. Never was."

I'd chuckled glumly and raised my glass. "Certainly not!" And Cal had drunk with me. He'd coughed at the vodka's spirit and I'd stared at his aquiline nose as he'd turned his head away from me. Once he'd finished, facing me again, I'd touched his stubby cheek and his eyes gazed into mine. As if on instinct, I'd kissed his brow. "How 'bout you give me some hope and tips for survival?" I'd said.

Again his lovely giggling. "I know some ways to stay alive among soldiers," he'd answered. But what he'd told had been mostly dirty jokes and bad puns. It was all I needed to hear.

It wasn’t the knock on the door that alarmed me, the noise from outside was telling enough. Soldiers. A raid. Conscription. I thought of Mrs. Keats, Master’s daughter, again. She had to have reported me after all. I swallowed, trying to gather my things. I wasn’t sure if I preferred it this way or not, without saying goodbye to anyone. The Barrows have been good to me, when will they know?

I had barely grabbed some clothes as the door opened. I straightened, drilled to submission as a Red was supposed to. But it was only a servant who was greeting me. She blinked as she noticed my nervous posture. She seemed familiar.

“Kilorn Warren?” she asked, and with her voice, my memory returned.

“Ann?”

“Ähm, yes. I’m Ann Walsh.” She frowned at my informal address. “Mr. Warren, you’re hired to serve in the Hall of the Sun from today onwards. Please come with me.”

I looked at the security officers behind her. They even had a transport with them. Was this just a trap?

“Excuse me?” I tried to dodge her, but Ann came closer, looked straight into my eyes and hissed in a low voice, “you have a freaking job now, Warren. Don’t ask, just come with me, you lucky jerk.” She took a step back. “It is about time, Mr. Warren,” she said suddenly as sweet as sugar, “we have need of every hand today.”

“Sure … I mean, yes, ma’am!” I replied. Ann smiled at my mocking tone. She sighed. “I see I’ll have to instruct you first.”

My thoughts rattled during the drive. I could only conclude that that Cal had organized something for me, he’d hinted at this once. But how was this possible, and so quick? Half of the kids in the Stilts craved a palace job – good food, clothes and work in a warm building. And glamour to be seen, by being around the o-so-noble Silver High Houses. The other half was proud to be disdaining the Silvers, if they didn’t fear them outright. I didn’t know to which side I was leaning to right now.

I listened to Ann, who wanted to be called Walsh now, and I put on the red and white servant uniform. I tried to remember the hallmarks in the palace, and to figure out which people I could asked for advice when needed. And I would need them, as I couldn’t write or read any notes.

There was to be a huge event today, in an indoor arena. Apparently, the entire nobility of Norta had gathered in their private balconies already. I did my best not to gape at them and their clothes, decorated with an obscene amount of gemstones and embroidered with rich imagery. I wondered how many these stitches had been made by Gisa and her needles? Those were now a limited rarity and worth more than any of the jewels. But I never flinched at the Silvers, I smiled and obeyed and stayed silent as I sidled through the filthy richness. I listened to the prattling of the Silvers and the Reds alike and grasped what this event was about: The traditional Nortan Queenstrial, a big showing-off of the daughters of the High Houses to find out which of them was awesome enough to marry the crown prince.

What a hoax.

I evaded the view of the show deliberately. I didn't need to be in further awe of the Silvers, they were intimidating enough while I served them, as they taunted me just while passing them, like "accidently" letting their plates drop to the ground and calling Reds to clean up.

How would this continue? I would have to do this every fucking day know, and I could only hope not to be assigned to an exceptionally cruel Silver House. If we were lucky, the most of these nobles would disappear from the Hall of the Sun after this Queenstrial thing was done. If I was lucky. I had no idea about court protocol, maybe they would stay for the rest of the summer? I faintly remembered grand progresses from the past. And afterwards? Would I travel with the court to the capital? Even if I couldn't read a work contract, I had to know the odds of this game. Would I live in the palace or had I to return to the Stilts after my shifts? Would Mrs. Keats throw me out anyway or would she let me rent the old house? Could I affort to rent something at all? The Master hadn't paid me much, and most of times, he deemed feeding, housing and dressing me as enough payment.

I searched for Walsh in my free moments, but those were rare, and they had to be for her too.

Loud chirps pulled me from my ponderings. The balconies rumbled as the High Houses rose to their feet to greet the royal family. As I turned around, I noticed that I had a good view on the king who was yelling about the rebel attack so close to home. I just wanted to continue my work and stay safe despite his familiar hate-speech as the princes caught my eye.

Holy waters and fish crap.

All my puzzles fell into place as I realized that the crown prince who was chose his bride today was Cal.

A dirty laugh escaped my throat. Two servants heard me but went on without frowning at my common behaviour. Do they even know that their prince likes boys? was my first thought. My second one wasn't so funny. He was a bleeding liar, to say the least. To be honest, I'd suspected he wasn't a Red like me, not nearly as poor. And I'd shoved away the suspicion that he possibly wasn't a Red at all. I hadn't cared. What for? He'd been nice to a thief, and I hadn't expected to see him again.

Maybe I really would not. Unless he wanted to use his royal status to command me to him as he would see fit. I chased the thought away. Cal had enough to worry about, like his poor and vicious bride-to-be, and I had to assume he'd done enough for me by getting me this job so he could forget me. I would in his place. I didn't want him to remember me, or did I?

Nah. The pleassnt last evening had been a castle of sand and lies. If Prince Tiberias the seventh, heir to the kingdom of Norta and the Burning Crown, had any romantic interest in a scrappy Red boy like me, I would either do my best to avoid him - or exploit it. For me, and for Mare and her family. I giggled quietly at the idea. What a pipe dream to think I had power over a prince just because I'd drunk with him one night? Shall I spill his terrible secrets? That he went down after two beers?

The cheers in the arena grew louder, like crashing waves. A name was chanted, but not the name of the king.

"Samos! Samos! Evangeline Samos!"

I peeked at a screen in a private box. A girl stodd in the ruins of the arena, exuding pride and haughtiness, even more than the other Silvers. Light glittered in her silver hair like gems. She drank in the cheers like booze, yet the smile on her cattish face seemed real. She was the winner of the Queenstrial, apparently, and she was truly happy about marrying the crown prince. It would be too funny to see her reaction when she learned that Cal liked boys probably more than her. I'd been at the Nortan court for five hours and it was already obvious that Silvers didn't care about honest and gentle feelings.

To make things "perfect", I had to serve the plates of the royal family during the betrothal dinner. Only Cal and I realized the awkwardness of the situation but I was too proud to let anything show on my face. I wasn't surprised at all that he was a prince. His doggy eyes when he looked to me as I placed his soup before him was pleasant though. He seemed almost desperate,  unlike his betrothed, the Samos girl who controlled metal as she was keen on showing. She beamed with her smile, her metal dress and the jewels she wore, shining brighter than the chandeliers above us. She chatted constantly wiht the queen or the black-dressed girl next to her, who didn't seem disappointed to have lost in the Queenstrial at all. The second prince seemed equally elated, raising his glass to toast to the "happy" couple several times. One moment, he thought he smirked right at me. Then again, I noticed that the servant boy behind me wore a very similar grin. He patted my shoulder. "Hey, newbie," he said. "Don't stall. Things are going according to plan, if you wouldn't interfere." I blinked at him.

"Right," I answered with a pinch of salt. "I would never disturb the royals in their revels. And my name is Kilorn Warren"

The other boy nodded. "That's the right attitude. I'm Thomas Mayfair."

Commentary:

Thought I could hint at Thomaven right now ;-)

Sorry to all of you who expected Kilorn to become the Lightning Boy or the Red Nymph or something. I may made him gay, but otherwise, he still isn't a Newblood. As I concepted this, I've thought it interesting to include how things would have been if Mare wasn't not part of Elara's scheme and things go according to the original plan. @dewydrael @redqueenfandom @lilyharvord @maudthebookeater @didmavenkillyou--metoo  @lunardemigod @marelicious  @liz-cavallaro @marecal-trash @agarotado27dejunho @stiinaofficial @incantationalice @universegamer @ibeswaraa @sybillsilver @the-little-lightning-queen

[school-of-disney]

Lacey ‘Lady’ Dearing - Accepted!

Please send your account in within 24 hours along with tracking the tags here and following other accounts here! Welcome to the rp!

~~OOC:  Alias: CC. Age: 29. Time Zone: CST. Activity Level: 7/10. ~~IC: Character: Lady Dearing. ~Bio:

Lady’s name is fitting for her to a T. Having come from a wealthy upbringing, she is the epitome of grace and gentility. Unfortunately, being raised in such an environment has also lent a hand in her becoming a little spoiled; instead of her parents being around as much as she preferred, it was a nanny around to keep her company. Lady didn’t mind too much, as she kept herself busy in school with activities, though she often wished her parents were available more. As time went by, she and her nanny grew pretty close; she celebrated the holidays with the Dearing family, and started to become an honorary member.

However, her senior year of high school, things took a turn. Lady started to noticed things missing. It began with jewelry– some of them precious heirlooms that had been passed down. Initially she considered it her own misplacement, but then her mother’s things were disappearing as well. Due to her strict upbringing only certain people were allowed in and out of their home, so Lady speculated it was the nanny taking things. She didn’t feel comfortable accusing until she caught the caretaker in the act, with her great-grandmother’s pearls in her apron pocket. Unfortunately, the nanny feigned innocence to her parents, and Lady had no proof. Her parents assumed it was a charade for more attention from them, and dismissed the entire thing without a second glance.

After Lady’s accusations, there was a huge shift in their dynamic. Lady still tried to be polite and friendly, attempting to pretend nothing ever happened. Unfortunately, her nanny didn’t take any of it lightly. She began calling the girl harsh names– ones that were far from lady-like (pun intended), but that was just the start. If Lady’s friends ever came by, her nanny would shoo them away, commenting that the girl didn’t want to see them again, regardless of who they were. She lost many of her friends because of that awful woman, and eventually, she wouldn’t even allow Lady to leave the house except to go to school. She was trapped in her bedroom, afraid of what the paid help might try next. Eventually the only meals she had were ones she prepared, although at that point Lady didn’t trust that anything else wouldn’t be poisoned. However, after being struck more than a few times (particularly to the face), she could no longer take the cruelty or tension, and ran away. She assumed no one would miss her anyway.

A year and a half later Lady, while having to adjust to everything, is alright. She dealt with homelessness pretty well considering she’d mostly always had herself catered too, although it helped that she ran into a guy that was willing to take her under her wing. He’s the opposite of someone she would have surrounded herself with in the past; rough, mysterious, and a little rebellious, but he’s also handsome and charming… and seems to care about her. At least enough to help her off the street, which is more than she can say for anyone else. Still, his name is Tramp for a reason. She’s enjoying college life and excited about her nursing studies. It’s a career that seems suited for her, and no longer under anyone’s rule, she’s basking in the freedom. That being said, she does miss the luxuries and even her parents from time to time.

~Any changes to the bio? I really love what you have set up for her already! I’d love to change the FC to Melissa Benoist though! ~~~RP Sample: 

Sadie knew her cheeks were fuming as Scott appreciated her look and complimented that she always managed to outdo herself. The truth was that he did as well; he certainly had style and always looked amazing every time she saw him - whether he chose to go more casual or dressier in work attire. “Thank you. I’m not the only one though,” she grinned, hoping he caught the hint, and when Scott drew her into his arms, Sadie really didn’t want to pull away. She had to though so they could get their night started, and the promise of an extended evening with hot chocolate after already had her buzzing. Scott was such a a gentleman, helping her out to his car and into the passenger side with care. She was thrilled to hear that he’d been waiting for tonight just as she had; Sadie’s smile grew even more if that were possible, and she settled comfortably into her seat. There was a little bounce within her, eager to open presents and to see Scott unwrap his; she really hoped she’d chosen well with his gift– they were on that cusp of knowing one another fairly well, but not completely yet. “You have? So have I.” Her cheeks were blushing again, but Sadie’s expression softened as she handed over the wrapped box for Scott and received her own. “I hope you like it. If not I have the receipt,” Sadie assured, blue eyes glittering as she intently watched him unwrap it. The way his handsome smile kept brightening upon reveal of the tie had the nerves in her stomach calming, and Sadie relaxed a little. Scott seemed excited and pleased with her choice, and as he pulled her into another hug Sadie giggled and glowed, reciprocating. “I’m so glad you like it! It just spoke to me, and I knew the color would make your gorgeous eyes pop even more. You’re so welcome, Scott.”

Biting her lip gently in anticipation as she awaited permission, once Scott gave it to her the brunette began tidily unwrapping her gift. She’d always been one to take her time with those things, and usually saved at least a scrap or ribbon from each she received for her scrapbooks. She’d always been made fun of for that, but Sadie didn’t care. Neatly setting aside the folded paper, Sadie’s eyes met Scott’s and she grinned at the guy before finally opening the box. Inside were a pair of warm, soft ear muffs, decorated with ice cream cones, which was totally fitting for her. “Oh my gosh– I lovethem!” she squealed, beaming at Scott across the seat. “These are amazing, and just the other day I was thinking I needed something for my ears. How did you know? These are absolutely perfect. I love them.” Letting her eyes meet his, the girl’s smile softened and she leaned in for a third hug that evening. This one was tighter, and without thinking really, Sadie let her lips brush against Scott’s cheek as she squeezed him. “Thank you, Scottie. They’re my favorite gift ever.” Drawing back slowly, she grew a little shy in realization that she had kissed his cheek, but Scott didn’t seem to mind. With a bashful smile, Sadie placed the muffs carefully over her ears, exhaling a little giggle as she buckled her seat-belt finally. “How do they look? They’re sooo warm. I am totally ready to go light gazing.”