#ryan satin

[foxyou-too]

Ryan Hopkinson

[leaffsheep]

[impossibleprincess35]

Asphodel | ch 35

[Excerpt:]

Eyebrows pinching together in a look of concern, Obi-Wan nodded and murmured, “I can tell. You’re angry with me and you have every right to be.”

Anakin continued to rock in his seated position as his eyes stared down at the floor. The truth of his childhood had been disclosed to Ahsoka on Kiros, and when Anakin had learned that Obi-Wan had revealed that information to her, he had been angry. It wasn’t his story to tell, even if his intentions had been good. But what really had upset him had been the pent up frustration he had felt for years as other Jedi had told him to let go of his trauma, as if it was so easy.

“For years, I have tried to guide you the best way that I know how,” Obi-Wan said quietly as he looked away from his friend. “I was young, Anakin, and I wanted to fulfill the dying wish of Master Qui-Gon. You were all that I had left of him, but perhaps I was ambitious in believing that I would succeed without making as many mistakes as I did.”

His lips pressed together tightly as Obi-Wan held back a wave of emotion as he recalled the feeling of emptiness that he had known in the weeks that followed Qui-Gon Jinn’s death; how his grief had left an ache in his chest that he felt, even now.

“How many times I told you that you had to reflect upon your life in servitude,” he muttered with disgust as he recalled his past behavior. “How often I believed it was merely a matter of commitment. If you just committed to letting that anger go, you could release the grip you had around it.”

Anakin’s hands joined and his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.

“I know now that it was the other way around,” Obi-Wan glanced over at him with wide blue eyes, glistening with tears. “You did not have a hold on it. It has a hold on you. Even now.”

The slight movement that Anakin made in his seat came to a stop. He continued to stare down at the floor, but the grip between his hands loosened.

Obi-Wan shook his head with sorrow as he pleaded, “Anakin, I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and do better now that I understand more about what you have endured.”

Finally, the younger man looked up and his eyes were not wild with some untethered emotion pulling him waywardly through a storm of his own thoughts. He looked as though he had anchored himself for the storm he had been prepared to weather was not his own - it was Obi-Wan’s.

--

Chapter 35 is up.

[stuckasmain]

Rewatch notes Act 2-

Continuation of this post, more of Conor and Courtney and the whole cast making me utterly deranged because their performances are everything.

Again the choreography of this song makes me completely insane. It’s so good. The desperate leaps and tosses as Christian reaches out for her? 🤌🏻 mwah

Toulouse has spectacles. That’s it. That’s the note. He also plays much more into the? Limp? In this act

“Awww! Well see he gets a prop!”

✨A dying whore✨

“What would you have her wear?! A raspberry bardndjskskskskso?!! Hahahhahaha!” (His derangement here)

“My little girl loves to sparkle…all my things sparkle.”

In the apartment Christian hugs her tightly. As if he squeezes her enough she’ll start to believe in happy endings.

Christian is the one to make fun of accents this time, imitating a French one

“Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste” oh baby…

I just wrote “I can see his chest hair… slut.” I’m right.

Satine wearing her crimson dress in the middle of the rich pastels 💕 ughhhh symbolism

It’s the fact the duke is giving her everything she’s ever asked for. That she might have been content if she hadn’t met Christian and got a taste of real love and not just comfortable existence- she wants something else now.

THE HAT FALLS OFF IN A GENUINE STAGE MISTAKE! HE TRIES TO PUT IT BACK ON HER AND SHE IMMEDIATELY TAKES IT OFF shsksksksk

Christian in red! Christian in burgundy! More more more more

“Like his god damn pet. Every beautiful thing in you compromised by his lust and money.”

“She wants to die for love”

“Yes!”

Christian just stands there after his outburst. The reality of what he has down slowly begins to wash over him and he immediately tries to apologize, but it’s way to late

Zidler’s cane is a flask

Santiago scolds Christian like Toulouse scolds Satine, I think it’s a interesting show of dynamics to show who gets hard truths from who.

“Drink, rage, forget” it’s now occurred to me that Roxanne is Christian’s rage, but instead of forgetting he goes to the dukes place completely hammered and thinks of satine even more.

Conor is particularly brilliant with this as he’s struggling to process these emotions. This hurt. This confusion. This- want. He wants to forget about her, he wants to take her and run away. He can’t understand just why and how obsessed he is.

He’s begging out to the universe in Roxanne. Someone must understand him! Someone has to hear him! Why does she do this? Hurt herself with the duke? Why is everyone treating him like he’s insane for being upset? Why can’t he just love her normally? IT’s everything!!

“Help me I’m holding on for dear life!”

Christian is giving Jack Nickerson in Crazy rolling . You can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or cry, probably both.

“You had my heart inside of YOUR hannnnnd~”

it’s implied Christian’s always been…on the edge… his verse talking about his hero’s, always wanting to come to Momantre and now understanding why their lives ended early? OW

When they come together there’s more confetti and when she collapses in his arms he laughs and looks around as if it was a joke and 😭

Again the translation between scene and narration is seem less and “I’m telling this story and it’s still fresh and I’m caught up in it now”

[jiacquemus]

The dress I made in honour of the barbie movie coming out

[cerealbishh]

Suppose I never ever met you Suppose we never fell in love Suppose I kept on singing love songs

🎥: @starcuffedjeans

[madwickedawesome]

just a collection of pictures from tveit chandelier performances i like

+ the elephant w tveit and olivoooo <3333333

[laceyauandromedus]

Saw Moulin Rouge (touring) last weekend. Conor Ryan as Christian was incredible ! I will always live for Backstage Romance.

Conor liked my story and I couldn’t function for at least 15 min.

[madameaug]

BTS w/ Short Reader

Pairing: BTS x Black Fem Reader

Synopsis: Different moments with BTS having a short girlfriend

Request: @lelewright1234

A/N: Not edited just wanted to get it out. Will clean up later :)

Seokjin: Going to Dinner

One of the major perks of living in the city was being close to many diverse food cuisines. There was an Italian restaurant two blocks from your apartment, authentic Mexican food on the same block, and your favorite restaurant just ten minutes' walking distance away.

That was what you and Jin were currently doing. The fall breeze felt nice as you all engaged in small talk. The restaurant was a casual establishment. Not necessarily a hole in the wall, but it didn't require reservations either. Even during peak hours.

"I'm starving," you said dramatically. Your work was insane, and time just got away from you. Not even able to pick up something quickly from the nearby gas station. It was that type of day.

"Well, I just got paid, so feel free to splurge. I'm craving a juicy steak." Jin, equally enthused, rubbed his hands together. Jin had been working hard to put himself in the best position for a promotion. The industry was lucrative, but it was a dog-eat-dog world. He didn't have many 'friends' at his job. He did not see the need when he had his girlfriend, his best friend, anyway.

Taking a seat at the resteraunt, it was long before a friendly waiter greeted you all.

"Hi, welcome to Cheesecake Factory. I'm Ryan and I'll be your sever for the evening."

The waitor placed down the menus. "Can I get you started with something to drink?"

He tilted his head. "Oh my apologizes let me get you a kids menu." He rubbed the back of his head. He collected the menu in front of you so fast, you didn't have a chance to even correct him. Jin watched as you fixed your lip to correct the waiter. But he quickly shook his head no.

The waitor was moving amile a minute, and turned around going to go get a kids menu.

"I don't know if I should be offended or take it as a compliment." You jokingly posed the question.

"Take it as a compliment. Plus it's cheaper." Jin shrugged.

When the waiter came back, Jin accepted the miniature kid-sized menu.

"Okay, sorry about that. What can I get you to drink?"

Yoongi: Driving

"Good morning lovie." You cooed into the phone.

Yoongi groaned in response. Your warm greeting reminded that he agreed to pick you up from the airport. You traveled back home to your home country for a couple of weeks in the summer.

"I'm getting ready to get on my flight. I'll see you soon." You blew a kiss into the phone before hanging up. Yoongi was so delirious that he didn't even recall you hanging up. The eight-hour time difference was messing with him. He was already recovering from a long night before. He was one of those sleepers, where if you interrupted him, he couldn't go back to sleep after that.

But the warmth of the bed was working its magic. Yoongi, in one huff, flipped his pillow over. His body physically relaxed at the coolness. The satin pillowcases were a nice little touch that you added to the bedroom. They protected your natural hair in the event that your scarf slid off at night.

Soaking in the couple more hours of sleep that he got. Yoongi rolled out of bed, grabbing his keys. He shuffled slowly to his car. He slid one foot in the car, and groaned in pain as he hit his knee on the steering wheel.

Amid the pain and waking up, Yoongi looked at the driver seat.

"Why is it so far up?" He leaned down, sliding the chair at an appropriate distance for his legs. Finally getting in the car, he saw that all the car settings were off. His side mirrors turned in a lot more, and his rear view mirror was practically looking down into the back seat.

He smacked his lips, realizing the only person capable of adjusting his car settings was you, his girlfriend. You did some last-minute shopping before flying out all those weeks ago. You must have taken Yoongi's car.

He checked your location and saw that you were now twenty miles from the airport. Starting the car, hearing the engine purr. Yoongi felt his seat moving closer and closer to the steering wheel. Despite pressing the button, the car kept moving up the previous location. Yoongi's knees were damn near on top of the steering wheel.

Instead of responding grumpily, he laughed. "Shorty."

Hoseok: Clubbing

Finally, you and Hoseok reached the front of the club. Star Lounge had recently opened. You loved hitting the scene. Always being in the know. Hosoek your boyfriend was accompanying you. Thinking of your safety, a woman going to the club by herself- wasn't gonna happen on his watch. So he got dressed and met you at the line.

So after waiting nearly forty minutes in line you were rightfully upset when the security guard told you 'no.'

"What do you mean no."

"Read the sign lady." His head nodded to the sign in bold print beside him.

21+ club

"Yeah, I'm older than 21. Look at my ID." You did your best to keep calm. You are used to people thinking you are younger due to your age. Usually, a flick of your driver's license clears everything up.

The security guard was too involved in the other clubgoers to even look at the driver's license you had in your hand.

"If you hand me a fake, I'm putting you on the blacklist." He threatened.

Hoseok stepped in. Taking your license.

"We're not here to cause trouble or to hold up the line. Look at the driver's license. It's real."

With an attitude he looked at your ID. He even brought out the UV light. Flipping the card multiple times, trying to find any signs of fraud. But to be expected he couldn't find any.

"You can go in." He handed you the license, not making any eye contact. But make sure to add something smart to say. Hoseok ushered you in, taking you straight to the bar, to get the night started.

Namjoon: Pictures

You were taking yearly anniversary pictures with your fiancee Namjoon. The theme of the photoshoot was Midnight Kiss, fitting as Namjoon asked you to be his girlfriend on December 31st, mere seconds before the start of the new year. You were wearing a strappy four-inch heel that wrapped up your calf. Your dress was black with a sequence trailing the mesh sides. It cinched in your waist.

Namjoon wore a classic three-piece suit. He was handsome as ever and rocked the new low cut. The photographer was an energetic man who walked you both into placements. Complimenting on how photogenic you both were.

"Would you all like to do cute kiss pose?"

You nodded. Taking Namjoon's hands and placing them on your hips. As the taller individual natural Namjoon craned down to reach your lips. Right before your lips could touch, the photographer spoke up.

"Uh maybe we should find a new pose for Namjoon."

Slightly flustered, you looked to your fiancee. He too also looked confused.

"With the major height difference, Namjoon just looks... awkward."

"Oh-" Namjoon spoke. His slender fingers coming up to cover his mouth. You could see a smile creeping up.

"It just looked painful. Maybe let's try it sitting down." Pulling out a prop from the studio, Namjoon takes a seat first. You sit on his lap.

"Much better." The photographer crouches snapping the pose in different angles and lighting.

"I didn't think I was this short with the heels." You spoke between the kiss.

Namjoon chuckled. "I am six-foot, babe."

Jimin: Awardshow

You were at the Grammy's sitting beside your best friend, who accompanied you as your plus one to the event. The ceremony was dragging, and it was only forty minutes into the evening. The jokes were tiresome and the performances were frankly too loud. Overstimulated wasn't the word.

During one of the commercial breaks, you were getting ready to sneak a snack into your mouth when you heard your name called. Stuffing the snack into your purse, you smiled, turning your head.

Humbly coming up to you it was Jimin from BTS. You were well aware of who the singer was, as you both chatted privately from time to time. This was the first time you too were meeting in person.

"Yn. Hi!" Jimin bowed. He looked ethereal in his suit. His brown was a sandy brown hair. A middle part that looked perfect for him.

"May I hug you?" He spoke lowly taking note of your friend.

"Yes, of course. It's so good to see you." Standing up, you gave Jimin a warm hug, mindlessly rubbing his back. Jimin was glad to experience being in your arms. However, he didn't realize how short you were.

You only had a view moments before it was now time, for the show to continue. You waved Jimin goodbye as he walked back to his seat. It wouldn't be until after the award show that you would catch up with Jimin and his members. He was speaking informally about his encounter.

"I didn't realize how short Y/n was til I met her. She looks taller in her pictures."

Taehyung laughed hearing the retelling. Taehyung watched as you slinked up behind Jimin. In a more comfortable attire for the afterparty.

You wrapped you arm around Jimin's waist. Snuggling up to his side.

"I'm short eh." You feigned attitude.

Jimin looked down. Smiling seeing your face.

"You are it kinda caught me off guard."

"You're lucky my heels were hurting my feet." You laughed.

Taehyung: Sharing Clothes

It was a lazy Sunday at your apartment. Taehyung, your boyfriend was crashing at your place for the weekend. You all had an eventful day exploring new sites in the city. You all went rock climbing, ate lunch, and binged the newest season of Love is Blind.

Now you stood in the kitchen blending a fruit smoothie for yourself and Tae. The summer heat was seeping into your house, getting to the point where you had to take off your pants.

Taehyung just waking up stepped out from the corner. His wispy strands slightly sticking up on top of his head.

"Morning sleepy head." You greeted.

"Morning." Taehyung responded. He sat at the kitchen island. He sipped on the smoothie. Loving the pineapple and strawberry combination.

"Thank you."

"No problem baby." You smiled. You walked by Taehyung going to sit on the couch. Starting back up the season of Love is Blind you left off on last night. Taehyung followed your body as you propped your feet up.

"Yn?"

"Yeah?" You paused wanting to hear the conversation on the tv. Taehyung walked out the corner of your eye standing in front of you. He looked you up and down.

"Are you wearing pants?"

"Yeah." You pulled down the basketball shorts.

"I thought you were naked underneath."

"You sound disappointed." You teased back. Raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Mmm maybe." He spun back around sipping on his homemade smoothie.

Jungkook: High Shelf

The summer heat was nothing to mess with. It was increasing in temperature each passing summer. Jungkook's skin was slightly pink as he slid open the screen door from the backyard. He had a couple of friends over, and they were sitting outside sipping lemonade in the shade, doing everything in their power to avoid the scorching heat.

" Don't tell that story Jaehyun." Jungkook closed the door behind him.

Jungkook's heart nearly dropped watching you climb up in the chair. With wobbly knees you stood up on the chair.

Sturding the chair, Jungkook whisper scolded you.

"Jungkook. You scared me!" You placed a hand over your heart. "Don't come up behind me like that."

"You scared me stepping up on this chair. What are you trying to reach anyway?"

"I'm tryna reach some seasonings at the top of the cabinet." Jungkook motioned for you to step down off the chair. He slid it out of his way, stepping on his tiptoes to reach up and get the spices you pointed out for him.

"Just tell me next time okay." He lifted the chair placing it back. You laughed watching him slip back outside to converse with his friends.

[dearharriet]

By Any Other Name; Sirius Black ☕️

“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”

By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.

Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.

“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”

summary: by the will of mother nature, you meet your charming downstairs neighbor—who has been dying to meet you just as much.

word count: 3K

warnings: fem!r, sexually implicit comments, lots of mentions of underwear and lingerie

authors note: me 🤝🏼 making sirius act like my other favorite scorpio (ryan gosling)

1978. London, England.

+

More than anything in the world, you wished you had a tumble-dryer. The London winds turned brutal in autumn, and you’d lost nearly ten items of clothing before the season was done.

A pretty sundress, a flannel you’d nicked from your father’s dresser. A skimpy little black nighty, the top only lace and the bottom sheer satin.

That one had been the most recent, only the day before. You blamed yourself, really; You thought you’d be coy and hang it outside for the boy downstairs to see, and the wind tore it off the line and blew it to who knows where. Now some creep probably had it in his sock drawer.

Despite all of this, you still did not have a blessed tumble-dryer. Which meant even at present, in wind that might’ve blown your makeup off, you were outside clipping your soggy knickers to the line. Three clips each, thank you very much.

You can’t say it was all that embarrassing. London wasn’t particularly a town of modesty or shame, especially in more recent times. All the ladies along your alley hung their undies out, and no one seemed to mind. Maybe you just lived on an especially progressive block of the city. Whatever it was, you liked it.

You hummed a soft tune as you hung the last piece of clothing on the line, feeling chilly yet accomplished.

The wind had died down just slightly, leaving the clothes swinging on the line—suspended between your building and the one neighboring it. You peeked across to ensure that everything seemed secure, just in time to watch a pair of silky pink undies slip from their clips and fall a story down into the alley.

You clicked your tongue, promptly making your way down the fire escape to retrieve them.

As you rounded the landing to descend the second half of stairs, you were aghast to see the boy from downstairs—the one you so desperately wanted to see your cheeky nightgown—leant against your flat building. He was smoking a cigarette languidly and intently watching your sad knickers which landed before him.

You stammered at first, unsure what to say. The remaining shreds of daylight were reflecting quite stunningly off of his pitch black hair, in a way that was all too distracting. Eventually, you settled for something apologetic.

“God, I’m sorry.” You inched forward until you could bend down and rescue the pink knickers from the filthy ground. You frowned at the specks of dirt on them. You’d have to wash them all over again. Or maybe you should just toss them.

Or cast them into the sea. Perhaps donate them to a bluebird to use for nesting. God, you were embarrassed.

For a split second you became mortified with a scenario where you kept the dirty undies and this handsome-boy-downstairs wanted to shag you, only to find you’re wearing the disgusting alley knickers. Your cheeks grew hot.

You pushed the underwear behind your back then, hoping he didn’t see them in full. When you looked up, he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose and smiled devilishly.

“Not to worry, darling. I’m quite accustomed to women dropping their knickers in front of me.”

Your mouth popped open in shock. A boyish but refined laugh bubbled out of him as you failed to respond.

“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”

By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.

Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.

“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”

“I can’t call you handsome?” You blurted, and Sirius’ smile got so much worse, which is to say humbler and far more genuine.

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled.

A gust of wind blew and his hair billowed with it, just as he took a final drag of his cigarette. The embers lit his face warmly.

It fit. It definitely fit.

Sirius stomped his smoke out on the cobblestone and brushed his hands off on his slacks.

“I actually have something I want to give you.” Sirius inched toward his flat window, ignoring your pinched brows. “Wait right there.”

Contorting his long limbs, he slipped inside and disappeared.

Within seconds he returned, holding what you instantly recognized as your black nighty. He walked it to you, growing taller with every step.

“Think this belongs to you,” he prodded. You took the garment from him, smiling coyly.

“Do you happen to have any of the other clothes I’m missing?” You accused, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“Just this one,” he promised, “it fell last Sunday, just here, like your knickers.”

You flushed. “Sorry.”

Sirius’ expression turned boyish. “You should be. I’d have preferred that you came with it.”

The wind picked up again and wafted his cologne with it, something citrusy and clean. A pit stirred in your stomach.

“Maybe next time,” you murmured, and slipped up the fire escape before he could respond.

+

You sincerely didn’t expect to see Sirius after that. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it felt too simple. Too convenient.

Stunning, charming boy downstairs, holding onto your nightclothes to give back to you…

He had to be a creep. There was no other explanation. Or worse—he was only trying to be nice to save you from embarrassment.

You kept running through your conversation with him, adding new motivations and hidden meanings. Each one was like a warning siren, and it kept you from seeking him out.

Sirius, however, was not dissuaded at all.

A week later and it was the turn of November. The winds were cruel and rain barely ever let up, and any sunny day became laundry day.

One fateful, blessed dry Friday, you popped out to hang your loathsome clothes. If being clean was this much trouble, you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore. You were halfway through the soggy hamper when someone downstairs began to whistle.

“Darling, do you do anything but laundry?” A familiar voice called, posh and smug and handsome.

You peeked over the railing, and Sirius was in the alley with an amused grin on his face.

“Do you do anything but watch me do laundry,” you shot back, which made him laugh.

Sirius was making a paper boy cap look very stylish, holding the lip of it to aid his theatrics. There was something quite old fashioned about him, even in his boyish demeanor.

“I like to hear you sing,” he defended. “You have a pretty voice.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You didn’t entirely realize you sang at all. Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around.

“Does this seem a bit cliché?”

You looked around, too, at your balcony and the shaded alley; At Sirius, who was the shining image of a hopeless romantic, ready to profess his undying love.

“I suppose,” you agree. “Wherefore art thou? No—a minute is not enough.“

Sirius pushed his tongue into his cheek, grinning.

“I was imagining something else,” he said. “Let down your hair…Or—your clothesline?”

You snorted.

“Luckily, this damsel has stairs.”

Smile widening, Sirius raised his eyebrows, wondering if you’d meant to invite him up. You nodded, and he took the steps two at a time.

It was charming. While you were still reserved, you couldn’t help but admire his complexities. He’d seemed so subdued upon first meeting him, but now he was almost howling with excitement.

He was completely out of place on your terrace. A sharp and shining bachelor lording over your half-dead plants and damp t-shirts. He looked like he had a tumble dryer, and an iron, too. Or a maid. Definitely a maid. It was a mystery why someone so put together was living on the floor beneath you.

“What,” Sirius asked, looking dubious.

“What?” Your cheeks warmed. You’d been spacing out.

“You’re looking at me weird,” he accused, but he kept a lightness in his voice. “You don’t still think I stole all your clothes, do you?”

“No,” you denied. Then, feeling cheeky, you added, “just the nighty, right?”

He blinked, looking shy again. “Well. It—it fell.”

“Oh, right, my mistake. It fell,” you nodded, and watched his mouth open and close.

“Y’know, most neighbors bake something if they want to make friends,” you continued, enjoying his squirming, his brown pearly loafers scuffing on the grated platform.

You thought he was handsome when you met, with his cavalier confidence and dangerous smile, but seeing him so embarrassed was just as enthralling; His fair skin flushed pink, his broad shoulders hunched…his voice turned raspy and unsure.

“I was never good in the kitchen.” He said it like it was a fatal flaw, unfixable.

“No, of course not,” you said with unwavering mirth. “You’d hire someone to do that, wouldn’t you?”

Sirius’ head snapped up, shocked, confirming your suspicions.

“What are you robbing my clothesline for, rich boy,” you teased, wrinkling your nose at him.

Scratching his jaw, he blew out a bewildered laugh.

“What gave it away?”

You snickered, making a sweeping gesture over him. “What didn’t?”

Sirius looked down at his pressed white dress shirt and well-fitted vest. He then ripped his hat off, deflating.

“Thought I was doing a good job of fitting in,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” you cooed, though you weren’t sure why. It should’ve been insulting, that this upper-class idiot was so upset at seeming as well-off as he was, but he kept striking you with an odd sincerity. He didn’t seem ignorant, he just seemed lost, and you felt sorry for him.

“If it’s any consolation, you look quite handsome.”

Sirius looked up at you through his lashes and shyly smiled.

“Do I?” He needled. You hummed affirmatively.

“If a bit chilly. Who’s been making your cuppas?”

Grabbing your basket, you backed away towards your window and slipped inside. You waited for Sirius to follow, hoping your invitation wasn’t too indirect. Thankfully, he crawled in after you, loitering by the window awkwardly.

“Well, don’t let all the heat out,” you called over your shoulder, dropping the basket onto your couch and bee-lining for the kitchen. Sirius closed the window and meandered further into your space.

“You’re not going to poison me, are you,” he asked from your kitchen threshold, watching you put the kettle on.

“I’m not sure you should be as paranoid as me,” you said, leaning against the counter. “But I’m fresh out, so not this time.”

Sirius laughed. “Oh, good.”

“So,” you started, crossing your arms to mirror him, “who are these girls dropping their undies for you? I’m painfully curious.”

Sirius sucked his teeth, hiding a grin.

“I’m not sure you have enough tea,” he sighed solemnly. “We’d be here all night.”

Eyes tracing over the long hands splayed over his biceps, you bit your lip.

“I can imagine,” you humored. “A pretty boy like you…you never catch a break, do you?”

Sirius looked constantly unprepared for complements like this, and you couldn’t get enough. He was pink and silent and restless, faltering for something witty to reply with.

In the end, he just shook his head.

When the water was hot, you made up Sirius’ tea, and he thanked you shyly as his hand brushed yours. He put far too much sugar in it, and not a spot of milk, but you found that just as charming as the rest of him. You sat at your kitchen table, smiling over your cups.

“I haven’t had a good cuppa in months,” Sirius sighed, spinning his mug in absentminded circles.

“Thought you had a maid,” you prodded, and Sirius’ responding smile was bittersweet.

“Not anymore,” he said quietly, “not for a while.”

You took a slow sip of your tea, watching him carefully. As you set your cup down, you licked your lips, and Sirius instinctively copied you.

“So…no maid.” You leaned back, lifting a brow. “Who presses your clothes, then?”

Sirius frowned. “I do.”

“Oh.” You frowned, too. “But you can’t make a cuppa?”

“I—“ Sirius chuckled. “I can make a cuppa. It just tastes better when someone else makes it.”

“Ah.” Picking up your cup again, you smiled at him. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

Sirius pulled his lip between his teeth as you drank, rubbing his hands on his slacks.

“Well I—“ he cleared his throat, “—I should go.”

Confused, you watched him as he pushed his chair back and stood, ducking to you gratefully.

“So soon,” you complained. It was odd. You’d been avoiding him all week, but once he was around you didn’t want him to go.

“Yes, well. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Sirius smiled kindly, if a little distant.

“Well, I invited you, handsome. That’s hardly intruding.” Your words were intentionally soft and sticky, cloying, to change his mind.

Sirius’s eyes swept over your face for a moment, his mouth chewing on words that never came out. Eventually, he left a thankful caress on your hand, where it laid dormant on the table.

“Thank you for the tea,” he expressed, and then he was gone.

You sat at the table long after he left, until your tea was cold and his empty cup was dry.

+

The whole week after that, you turned your conversation with Sirius over in your mind again and again, looking for what you’d done wrong.

He’d never seemed angry, even as he left. He was almost sullen.

In the days following, it was like he’d never existed. The alley had a Sirius-shaped hole in it every time you hung your clothes, and—as if it was missing him, too—the wind had stopped blowing.

Singing softly, you hung your final garments, enjoying the still evening while you could. When you sucked in a new breath, it was thick with the scent of burning tobacco. You looked down through the slats, and as you expected, Sirius was leaning where he was when you’d first met him.

Sucking your bottom lip, you looked at the cloth in your hands, and then back at Sirius. At the sudden absence of your voice, he’d looked up, and your gaze met his. He stilled, the ash growing perilous on his smoke, and watched as you held your dark nightgown over the railing. You let it go, and watched Sirius sigh, tracking its feathery fall to the ground.

When he looked back up, you were already halfway down the rickety stairs.

“Darling, don’t—“

“You know, it’s rotten manners to leave a girl wondering what she’s done wrong,” you scolded, plucking the gown off of the cobblestones. “Especially after being so charming all the time.”

Sirius winced. “I’m sorry.”

He looked frustratingly good, more casual than you’d ever seen him. His hair was messy and his collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. It only made you bolder.

“Well,” you prodded, “won’t you at least tell me?”

He furrowed his brows, his cigarette long forgotten between his fingers.

“Tell you what?”

“What I did,” you huffed, exasperated.

His face crumpled.

“Darling,” Sirius stressed, “nothing. You’re the loveliest neighbor I’ve ever had.”

The compliment felt like an insult, calculatedly detached, and you wondered if you’d invented the whole thing in your head.

“Why’d you leave, then?”

Sirius shifted, his expensive shoes crunching on the ground.

“I didn’t want to impose.”

Unbelieving, you shook your head in disappointment. It must’ve been something awfully offensive if he still wouldn’t tell you.

“I can’t afford the expensive teas, so if it tasted odd—“

“—Love, it wasn’t the tea, it’s—“ Sirius licked his lips, hesitating. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”

Lost, the corners of your mouth pulled down. Sirius sighed.

“The gown, I—“ He gestured to the satin in your hands. “It was inappropriate. I’m sorry.”

Avoiding your eyes, he finally ashed his cigarette, but left it abandoned in his hand. Stepping closer, you batted your lashes at his shameful face.

“Sirius, if it worried me, I wouldn’t have invited you inside.”

“It should worry you!” His face contorted. “It was manipulative and debauched—“

“Debauched!” You grinned, eyes bright. “What exactly did you do to my nightgown, hm?”

Sirius’ mouth pursed disapprovingly. “Love, please.”

You stepped closer, pouting.

“You didn’t imagine me in it?” Sirius shook his head passionately, but his cheeks warmed. “Shame. I hung it for you, you know.”

Sucking in a breath, his cigarette met the ground as you waded closer. You reached out, tugging on the top button of his vest.

“Will it take a cyclone for you to ask me out?”

Sirius let out a heavy breath and shook his head. When he said no more, you tilted your head and pulled him into you.

“Well then?”

His eyes searched yours.

“Go on,” you said. “I’m not sure someone who likes his tea with seven sugars could be very scary.”

Brightening, Sirius took your hand where it fiddled with his vest. You watched with heat in your chest as he brought it to his face and pressed his mouth to it. He then turned it over and did the same to your open palm.

“Could I please take you out, angel face?” His breath was hot on the inside of your hand, sending chills up your neck. “To repay you for the stunning cuppa?”

Chuckling, you traced a feather-light finger over his jaw.

“Certainly.” You licked over your teeth. “I’ll wear my driest knickers.”

His smile slipped into wicked territory.

“Don’t sweat it, love.” A big hand smoothed over your shoulder, and you melted. “You’ll only be wasting your time.”

+

thank you for reading! 🦢

masterlist

[theblackfemininesociety]

Ryan Destiny x MAC 💄

Who’s buying this lip kit ?! 💋

[amazingmargotrobbie]

Margot Robbie stunned in an embroidered tulle-trimmed satin gown as she joined Ryan Gosling for the star-studded UK premiere of Barbie in London on Wednesday.

[samonroegf]

⠀dealer!sam monroe x cheerleader!reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ epilogue : dinner party

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ series masterlist

“do i have to wear this?” sam complained as you fixed his tie for him, and straightened his jacket. it was just a simple suit, something you went out and got for him. it was navy blue almost black, and complimented his color palette beautifully.

“yes, it was my mom's one condition. that you have to dress up.” you sighed, and finished eith his buttons. you straightened a few things and then admired your hard work. he barely looked like himself if you were honest, no rips, holes, chains, nothing like that. but this was your sam, and he looked so handsome. you left his hair alone, knowing that would be the biggest fight.

“i think she's out to get me,” he huffed, and flopped onto your bed. you fixed up your hair, makeup, and smoothed out your own dress. you couldn't help but giggle at his comment. “she’s not out to get you, that's silly.”

you had about ten minutes or so, until you were expected to come downstairs. that's when sam's mother and brothers would be showing up too. you thought it was a little crazy of your mother to want an elaborate dinner party, but if it gets the job done, whatever.

you sat down next to sam on the bed, just letting the time pass as you set your head on his shoulder. he leaned to press a soft kiss to your forehead, the action makes you smile. after everything the two of you have been through, you were happy for the peaceful moments like these.

the ten minutes passed by faster than you would have liked, and your dad knocked on the door to let you know it was time. sam stood and helped you to your feet, he couldn't help but admire how cute you looked in this moment.

you descended the stairs together, a smile on your face. your families were mending and blending together. this was exactly what you needed, even with the harsh words from your mother. she was still your mom, and you wanted her acceptance.

it didn't take very long for sam's family to show up, his mother wore a beautiful satin dress, and the boys almost matched sam. with lighter blue suits on them. you couldn't help but think moments like these were what life were meant for, even with the uncomfortable heels hugging your feet.

you all sat at the table, your father at the head, your mother and you to each of his sides. sam sat next to you, oppsite to his mother. his younger brothers, adam next to him, and ryan next to robin.

your mother brought out all the foods, special recipes that had been passed down for generations in your family. silence passed over the group, but it wasn't necessarily tense. it wasn't exactly comfortable either though, no one really sure of how they should act.

sam's knee knocked against yours, a clue-in that he thought you should start the conversation. you take a deep breath, anxiety peaking out from your ribcage.

“you know, sam, our girl is quite the dramatic, you think you can handle her?” your dad got to it before you could. while you could've been embarrassed, you weren't. this felt like the most natural way for the conversation to go. less pressure on your shoulders.

sam's laugh eased your nerves, he chuckled, a hand coming down to rub your thigh comfortingly.

“now that you mention it, i think I've noticed it a time or two.” he smiled at your dad, and he smiled back. sam's retort even made your mother chuckle.

“like you have any room to talk,” robin eyed sam, and his face reddened. she didn't want to say too much, but she winked at you.

it was proof everyone wanted this to go smoothly, not just you. you giggled in response.

“thanks for throwing me under the bus,” sam said jokingly.

things continued to pass like that, soft conversations. along with the random outbursts of his brothers telling everyone about their school days, or the latest cartoon they had watched. before you knew it, the dinner party was coming to a close.

you and sam offered to clean up the table. while the parents shared a drink, the boys played on your old swing set in the backyard.

you washed plates, and sam dried them off and put them away. it was a nice moment of complete domestication.

“you know tonight wasn't so bad, i think your mom is starting to like me.” sam spoke triumphantly, smirking at you as he did. like it was this great mission he had completed.

“i told you, she isn't that bad. she's just an aquired taste.” you laughed and sam did too. after you finished the last plate you just leaned against the counter watching him.

he looked so handsome in the rolled up sleeves of his button down, jacket discarded on the back of his chair.

he came to craddle your face in his hands, “i love you so much, baby. don't know what I'd do with out you. best thing that ever happened to me.” his smile was so sweet, so genuine and full of love.

your fingers held his wrists, just looking at him with the same amount of love.

“i love you.” you breathed, it was all you could get put before he pressed his lips to yours. softly holding you to him, like he was afraid if he let go you'd disappear.

“i’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you.”