#when it's the winter i wear one of my dark red sweaters

[im-tempted]

I love those things where it's like 'what would you dress like in a cartoon'

Every day I wake up and put on one of my pairs of identical brown pants and a cream button up (SOMETIMES BLACK) and pretend I look different

[bitter-hibiscus]

what are some of your favorite robin jason headcanons

ARGH DONT GET ME STARTED---

Commissioner Gordon isn't allowed to smoke around Robin!Jason. He WILL make puppydog eyes the entire night to try and get commish to give him one

He's the only Robin who's allowed the aud in the Batmobile because he shares Bruce's music taste

Since his room in the manor is Dick's old one, he found Dick's old Flying Graysons poster and taped it above his bed. He uses it as motivation for Robin because if Dick can still be good despite the tragedy of the Graysons then he can too

Selina is his favorite "family" member because she took him to Wildcat's boxing ring the first time they went out together AND she's the only one in that buys him batburgers

He only cooks for himself, because cooking for Bruce makes him think of Catherine's last years :)

He has a huge scar from his lip to his left eye from where Willis' wedding ring caught on his skin once

His favorite book is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

He spends his first two months in the manor sleeping in the closet instead of the bed

His shower in the Batcave has a bird print on the curtain (when he comes back as Red Hood, it's changed to a fox print)

Jason loves anything chocolate and hates anything strawberry EXCEPT for shortcake. Alfred makes brownies very often

Jason took a knife from the kitchen the day he moved into the manor and hid it under his pillow. Bruce knows but never asked him to give it back. Jason puts it back in the kitchen on the 3 month mark

Jason never has any money despite his allowance being hundreds of dollars because he just leaves them in his childhood friends (Max, Numbers, etc) bedrooms every time

Eddie comes over once every 2-ish months and the first time he's there and Dick comes over Dick is CONVINCED Bruce got another one. Jason runs with it and almost convinces Alfred that Eddie is his new brother

Jason has a winter version of the Robin uniform and the cape has 1) a hood and 2) fur lining. He has to replace it often because he gives it to homeless kids as a blanket more often than not. Bruce is glad to buy him new ones

If he goes to Crime Alley as a civilian, every single crook will ask him if he's "Willis' boy" because when he was still alive, Willis couldn't go more than 10 minutes without telling his coworkers about his little prince

Jason uses a leave-on conditioner for his curls that Dick recommended him. It smells like oranges, and becomes the scent that Bruce associates with him

His favorite piece of clothing is a dark red sweater with two yellow stripes that Clark sent to him for his birthday

Speaking of Clark, his Superman autograph is framed on the wall in his room

He makes friendship bracelets when he's bored!! Most of them he gives to children he rescues as Robin (it becomes Gotham Culture to compare how many Robin friendship bracelets you have. The record is 23). The ones he doesn't give to victims are usually given to Rena or Eddie (and, in one rare occasion, to Bruce. it says "Spooky." Bruce still wears it after Jason comes back)

Robin Jason looks like a doll. He has an up-tipped button nose and eyes three times the size they ought to be, big eyelashes and cupids bow lips. He looks like Sheila as Robin, and like Willis as Red Hood

He has a tattoo in the shape of a batarang on his shoulder because of Willis (which I've written about here)

Okay i just realized how long this is oh my god. I didn't even make a DENT on my Robin Jason headcanons. god help me

[vivwritesfics]

Christmas Sweater

Y/N learns to Knit. Daniel loves it (so fucking much)

Masterlist

"Happy November first!" Daniel Ricciardo cheered as he came down to his living room on the morning of November first.

It had been a weird morning already. Danny had woken up alone, something he wasn't used to. And, if he did wake up alone, Y/N was usually in the bathroom. Not this time. His girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

So, he made his way downstairs. When he heard the television on, things in his head clicked into place. She'd gotten up early and gone downstairs to watch television, of course.

But then Daniel walked into the room and properly looked at what Y/N was doing. She sat on the couch with two thick knitting needles in her hands and yarn on the floor in from of her. Some of the yarn was a lovely dark red, some was white and some was dark green. "What are you doing?"

As far as Daniel was aware, his girlfriend had no idea how to knit. He didn't even know she had knitting needles. But she sat on the couch, knitting away, the two needles clacking together as she went. Her brow was furrowed and her tongue was poking out as she worked. No, Y/N didn't know how to knit.

When she got to a good place to stop, Y/N held up her needles, calling Daniel what she had been working on. "Grandma sent me some supplies so I could make you a Christmas sweater," she answered.

Daniel had a bit of a reputation in the F1 community. A reputation for his Christmas sweaters. The most notorious of the Christmas sweaters? Why, the jingle my bells sweater, of course.

"Baby," he said, drawing out the word as he sat beside her on the sofa. "You don't know how to knit."

She waved him off, dropping one of her needles. It slid out of the yarn, dropping to the floor. "I'm watching Youtube to learn, Danny," she said as she reached down to pick up the needle.

Instead of threading it back through the yarn, Y/N pulled out her other needle, pulled apart her work and started again.

Danny watched her. It was slow work at first, and he soon realised why she started so early on in the year. His eyes focused on her hands as she cast back on and began knitting once again.

Y/N had to stop and start several times before she finally got it right. Daniel sat on the couch with her, arm around her as she worked. Several times she held her knit work against his stomach (taking a moment to touch his abs. But, come on, who could resist?)

It took weeks, near to a month of constant work before Y/N finally finished with Daniel's Christmas jumper. She worked as they travelled, while she was supposed to be watching Daniel race.

It was perfect timing, really. She got it finished just before December began. Wrapping it up, Y/N placed it in a box, wrapped the box and finished it with a bow.

She gave it to Daniel on the first of December, exactly a month after he'd seen her start to make it. It was red with little green stripes and white reindeers that was clearly having sex.

"I love it," he said as soon as he unwrapped it. "You couldn't have done anything more perfect for me."

"Try it on then!" Y/N urged.

So, Daniel did exactly as she asked and tried on the jumper. He didn't take it off for the entire month of December. No matter what country he was in, he stayed in his Christmas jumper. No matter how hot and sweaty he got, he stayed in his Christmas jumper.

The best part of it? Y/N learnt how to knit. She began knitting everything. So, so many hats for winter. Gloves and scarves and blankets and sweaters and tops and bags. Anything Y/N could make, she did.

Daniel wore it all proudly. Where he used to wear his Red Bull and AlphaTauri shirts, he now wore whatever Y/N knitted for him.

[mediumgayitalian]

If there’s one thing Will is, it’s committed to the bit.

Is there, perhaps, a touch of regret in his heart as he shivers, freezing, clad in nothing but his t-shirt and cargo shorts? Had he been told, before he left his cabin, by his long-suffering siblings that he was going to regret not wearing a sweater? Was the none-too-gentle reminder sixty-four percent of the reason he’d stubbornly refused the sweater he’d originally been planning on wearing in the first place?

Yes, yes, and no, surprisingly; take that, predictability allegations. He’s spontaneous as shit.

(Eight-three percent.)

(Whatever.)

He walks under a shadowy tree, briefly enveloping him in a deeper cold. He tries and fails to hold back a shudder.

“You’re cold,” says a critical voice to his left.

“I’ve never experienced even a mild case of hypothyroidism-borne boreal temperature intolerance even one time in my life, di Angelo, so check and mate.”

Unfortunately, the second half of his sentence is garbled by both his chattering teeth and his throat beginning to close. Curse you, Apollonian inability to lie. Will has people to gaslight, and a reputation to protect.

“You’re an idiot.”

Will wheezes. After three or four attempts, and the threat from his brain to his lungs that he will self-tracheotomize, really, he will, just try and fuck around cause you will sure as shit find out, bitch, he manages to clear his airways enough to employ his vocal chords (which, actually, are inaptly named. They are not chords, they are membranophones. Obviously).

“Nuh uh.”

“You really are an idiot. A frozen one.” Nico huffs. There is the sound of rustling, and for a moment Will is blindingly jealous of his friend’s night vision. He wants to snoop around in the dark to identify rustling sounds. How come he only glows when he’s embarrassed? He gets the stupidest Apollo powers. “Take my coat.”

Before Will can do much as protest, a heavy, undoubtedly warm jacket is shoved in his pockets.

“If you don’t wear it I’ll shadow travel to Slovakia,” Nico threatens. “And it’s winter for them right now, too, so I’ll pop out and immediately succumb to the elements.”

Will’s turn to be huffy, he slides the stupid jacket onto his arms. Immediately, he’s filled with a warmth so potent he feels as if he can almost fix his many mental problems. It’s glorious.

“Jacket smells like you, stink-face,” he says instead. He buries his nose in the collar and takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes as he savours the smell of woodsmoke, leather, and, amusingly, a little bit of oregano.

“Remind me to stab you tomorrow morning. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three days,” Will argues, but dutifully makes a mental note.

Nico seems pleased.

They finally break through the woods’ borders, stepping into the torchlight of camp, late evening. Will spots three couples sucking face behind their cabin. He then spies thrice as many Hermes kids up to nefarious deeds, such as attaching timed fireworks to windows and doorways for a fun morning surprise. Will makes a mental note, under the stabbing reminder, to prepare burn salve tomorrow morning. And to hide Cecil in his office for his own protection, because he’s a good friend like that.

“Thank you for getting herbs with me,” Will says, turning to Nico. He smiles, trying to pour as much gratitude into his voice as he can. “I hate going alone.”

“Yeah,” says Nico, stiffly. He looks everywhere but Will’s face. When Will does not look away, he glances over, scowling at Will’s broadening grin. “Whatever, Solace. Don’t be so needy, next time.”

Tactfully, Will refrains from mentioning that he had not asked for Nico’s accompaniment at all, actually, and was halfway to the forest with a list of ingredients when Nico had shown up, red-faced, and snatched Will’s list clean out of his hands and muttered something about incompetence and monster baiting fools.

“I still appreciate it,” he says diplomatically, and then, because he is an asshole and also struggles with impulse control, he leans down and pecks Nico’s forehead. “Smooch of gratitude,” he explains when Nico freezes, facial expression resembling that of a squished pear.

“Ha nngh mfgh,” Nico says after a moment. Or perhaps he said hangry muffins, Will’s not sure, sometimes his hearing aids go wonky.

“Indeed,” he says anyway. He leans down to smooch Nico’s forehead again, because it was nice, and because he didn’t get stabbed the first time. “See you in the morning, Neeks. Love you bunches and bunches.”

“Hngh daga,” Nico responds, and when Will pouts he clears his throat and rectifies, “I love you…too?”

Will nods, satisfied. “Yes, exactly. Goodnight.”

He jogs off, waving. It isn’t until he gets back to his cabin and is immediately accosted by his siblings that he realises that he has stolen Nico’s jacket.

“Hm.” He glances down at it. It really is a wonderful jacket. And, plus, Nico didn’t give him a return date, or anything, so it’s probably fine if he keeps it a little longer.

He doesn’t want to get cold, after all.

[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - Part 4

Maybe keeping a secret relationship with James is not as perfect as you think. Or, a whole lot of nothing, I need ideas plz.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, I hope everyone had a great Christmas! If you don't celebrate it then I hope you had a good day! Sorry this part is really bad, I need ideas, PLEASE give me ideas in the suggestion box please ily.

Part One Part Two Part Three

“Did you hear that James Potter is dating someone?”

“Do you think it’s Lily? He’s been crushing on her for years” “Of course it’s Lily. They’re going to have the cutest babies.”

You focus on the schoolwork before you, trying to block out the people next to you. You know James and you agreed to keep this dating thing private but you can’t help but feel sad, and jealous when people think he’s dating Lily. 

You know James likes you, he’s made it clear. And you know that Lily doesn’t like James if the way she always rolled her eyes when he was around was any indication. 

You’ve told Lily and Alice everything between you and James, as James has Sirius and Remus. Alice already knew since James asked her what your favourite book was, and Lily was shocked, disgusted and happy for you all in the span of five minutes. 

The teacher dismisses the class and you rush out, bumping into Lily on your way to the girl's dormitory.

“You’ll come with me to the Quidditch game, right?” You ask nervously. You’re still nervous around James and Lily coming with you would help you calm down a lot. 

She nods, hooking her arm with yours, “Yeah. Do you want to start getting ready? I’ll paint your nails.”

“Can you paint them red? I don’t know what I’m wearing yet, please help me.” you plead, sighing in relief when you reach the Gryffindor common room. 

Scanning the room, your eyes land on James sitting on the couches in front of the fireplace, talking to James and Sirius.

Lily teasingly nudges me and you glare. “Stop it-” You stop at the sound of your name being called out and turn to face the speaker.

“Do you want to sit with us?” Sirius Black asks you from his seat, eyes swirling with mischief.

“Excuse me?” You squeak. From the corner of my eye, you see James smash his face against the couch pillow. 

“The Quidditch game. Do you want to sit with Remus and me?” James lifts his head from the pillow, cheeks flushed as he mouths a silent ‘sorry.’

You nod, “Okay. As long as Lily can sit with us.”

It’s Remus who speaks, “Of course. We’ll meet here in an hour.” 

You nod your head awkwardly, flashing them smiles then drag Lily up the stairs.

“I’m not ready to hang out with Remus and Sirius, what if they don’t like me? James values their opinion and if they don’t like me then who knows what will happen-” Lily cuts you off with her hands on your shoulders. “Calm down, it’ll be okay. You’ve worked with Remus before in Potions, remember? He liked you, and Sirius will like you too. Now cmon, let’s get ready.”

She leads you to a table in the corner, pulling out a deep red nail polish. You take turns painting each other's nails, Lily choosing to go for a dark green. 

“What do I wear?” You ask, throwing everything out of your trunk in search of something cute. She joins you on the floor, rummaging through your trunk before holding a black skirt up.

“This is cute!”

“It’s almost winter.” “So? You’ll wear tights.” 

It's pleated and lands mid-thigh. Hesitantly, you agree and you continue the hunt for a top. You chose to pair it with a maroon turtle neck sweater so you don’t freeze to death.

“Are you wearing cute underwear?” Lily asks as you get dressed.

“What? We’re not having sex!”

“Are you sure?” You send her a look. “Okay, but wearing cute underwear makes you more confident.” “Go away.” You can’t resist your smile as Lily laughs. You quickly do your makeup and hair, putting on simple black boots.

“Is this too much for a Quidditch game?” You ask self-consciously. Lily scoffs from behind you, “No. You look hot.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

—

Remus and Sirius are sitting in the same place as before, cheeky grins on their faces as they spot you. 

“You ladies look amazing,” Sirius purrs, “You ready? I know James is excited to see you.” He winks, causing your cheeks to flush. 

Ignoring Sirius and Lily’s laughter, you make your way to the field, Remus falling into step next to you. 

“Don’t stress about getting him to like you. He already does. We all do.” At your confused face, he continues, “James has been so much happier since he found out you were his soulmate. And we like whoever makes him happy. So as long as you don't break his heart, we like you.”

“I’d never break his heart.”

“Good.”

—

“Potter! Potter! Potter!” The common room is deafeningly loud with almost everyone from Gryfindoor celebrating.

Gryffindor won, obviously, and the celebrations have been going on for an hour already. Besides a quick congratulations on winning the game, you haven't seen James since. 

You and Lily were sitting alone in the corner before she got dragged away with a boy from her Defence Against the Dark Arts class, so now you’re sitting alone, nursing a glass of water as you try not to look too miserable. Parties have never been your thing, and even though you can’t exactly speak to James, you’d celebrate with him in spirit. 

Perking up, you spot Sirius coming towards you with flushed cheeks, forehead lined with sweat. “Darling! James asked you to meet him in the boy's dormitory. It’s nice and empty for ya.” He slurs, stumbling over his feet. 

Your cheeks flush red and you hurriedly thank Sirius before pushing your way through the crowd, breathing a sigh of relief when you make it into the dormitory.

It’s empty and you stand awkwardly in the middle, turning in a circle as you take in all the bits and bobs around the place. 

There’s only one bed made, most likely Remus’s, and clothes are strewn across the floor. 

“I’m sorry, I told the boys to clean up in here.” You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of James’s voice. Turning around, you take in his sweaty hair and flushed cheeks. 

“It’s okay.” You mutter quietly, watching as he comes closer. 

He goes to hug you but stops. “Sorry, let me have a shower.” He points to a messy bed, “Take a seat, I’ll be quick.” 

The door shuts behind him and you do as he instructed, tidying his bed up a bit, first. Ten minutes later he comes barreling in, cheeks flushed from the hot shower. 

He sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I feel like I haven't hugged you in ages. How are you, Love?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m amazing.”

He kisses you, it’s soft and gentle but you can’t get those nagging thoughts out of your head. 

James notices, of course, he does. “You seem tense, you sure you’re okay?”

You tense even more and he pulls away slightly, brows furrowed in concern. 

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

“I- We’re not going to have sex, right?” You blurt, wincing immediately. 

He pulls away completely. “No. I just missed you, haven't seen you much tonight so I thought we could have some quiet time together, I know you don’t like parties. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention. I just missed you.”

Your cheeks flush and you shove them into your hands. “No, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid.”

He gently prys your hands apart, “Hey, no. I would’ve thought the same thing, too. But we’re not having sex until I become your boyfriend and we talk about what we’re comfortable with, okay?” “You want to be my boyfriend?” You ask shyly, a small smile forming on your lips. 

“Of course, You’re incredible. Why wouldn’t I want to be?”

You hesitate, “I have a lot of insecurities, James, and I don’t want to burden you with them.”

He scoffs, “You could never burden me.” He lays down beside you, reaching out so you’re forced to rest your chin on his chest, legs tangled with yours. 

You scoff, earning a stern glare from James.

You change topics, “So when are you going to be my boyfriend?” You question teasingly. 

He sighs playfully, “Well, I was going to ask you on our next date.”

Your eyebrows raise, “Our next date?” He nods. “I’ll bring your favourite food if you promise to ask me to be your girlfriend, okay? "He smiles, “It’s a deal.” Returning his smile, you lean in for a kiss, relishing in his warmth. Neither of you notices the time go by, too captivated by each other.

Taglist: I have a taglist omg

@lilianelena39 (I didn't know if you still wanted to be tagged but if you don't just leave a comment!) @remussbitch @universallyblizzardlove @ropickle

Thank you all for your support! I promise the next chapter will be more interesting, hopefully.

[lovebombs4life]

best friend - c.t.h

a/n: started as a blurb then turned into a one shot. oops!

prompt: “is that my shirt?”

cw: SMUT! sub!calum, dom!reader, oral (m), calum is an all around slut for reader

———

i woke up from the sun peaking through the dark curtains in the room. i had stayed over at calum’s again, along with all the other boys. of course since im calum’s favorite though, i got to sleep in his bed. him and the other boys always took the guest room.

one time during the winter we had all stayed over, and i think i about pissed my pants when i saw all the boys cuddling together in the bed to stay warm.

i sat up from the bed, yawning before rubbing my eyes. i swung my legs over the bed, standing on the cold wood floor. i made my way over to calums closet, grabbing out my favorite sweatshirt of his. i slipped off my t shirt, throwing it on the floor, and pulled the green hoodie over my head.

the sweater was so large it hung down toward my mid thigh, covering the spandex shorts that i was wearing. i walked to the door, swinging it open, and making my way downstairs where i could hear the rest of the boys playing video games.

i passed by them, walking into the kitchen. calum and ashton had done a double take when they saw me, eyes widening as they looked at each other.

i ignored their behavior and grabbed myself a glass of apple juice. i walked back to the living room and sat myself next to calum, setting my glass on the coffee table. he shifted as i sat down next to him.

“is that my sweater?” he asked, looking at me. “mhm.” i hummed as i nodded my head. he shifted around again. i turned to look at him, wondering why he kept moving.

“you alright?” i asked. he nodded, trying to play it cool. “i can go change if you don’t want me wearing it.” i told him. he shook his head.

“no, no, no! it’s totally alright! i just didn’t expect it i guess?” he said as more of a question. i hummed in response, turning my head to watch the boys play their game.

i leaned my head against calum like i usually do, but of course he started shifting his legs again. i ignored it, but still worried i was making him uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass before calum gets up, saying he’ll be right back, and runs upstairs. “what’s with him?” i asked. they all shrugged, not too focused on anything other than their game. i got up to check on calum, heading to his room.

i was about to knock on the door, but then i had heard groaning. i was worried. was he hurt? the noises continued. i should’ve done something, anything other than just standing there, but i couldn’t. that’s when i had heard it.

“fuck, y/n,” he moaned. my face flushed and my eyes widened. oh my god. was he jerking off to me? is that why he kept shifting around?

i pushed the door open quietly and peeked in. sure enough, there calum was, laying back on his bed, with a hand down his pants. i squeezed my legs at the sight. it was something that felt wrong, but so wonderful.

i mean for fucks sake, calum and i have been best friends since we were three, wouldn’t that be weird to think of your best friend that way?

i opened the door wider and slipped myself into the room, and quietly closed the door. calum still hadn’t heard me, and kept doing what he was doing. i smirked at the sight before speaking.

“that feel good, cal? like thinking of me like that?” he shot up and grabbed something to cover up. that’s when i realized he had used my shirt, and had been smelling it.

“don’t get all shy now baby. i know you were using my shirt, thinking of how much you wanted me.” i teased, crawling onto the bed. i grabbed his hand that was holding my shirt, covering himself.

“this alright?” i asked. he nodded quickly. i moved his hand away, seeing his dick hard, red, and throbbing for attention. “all from me just wearing your sweater?” i stroked him slowly. he jerked his hips forward, throwing his head back.

“please, need you to do something, y/n/n.” he gasped. i smirked at his submission, still moving my hand slowly. “such a dirty boy. thinking of your best friend like this.” i spoke before taking him in my mouth.

he cursed at the sudden feeling, his hands flying to my head. he tangled his hands in my hair, groaning as i shoved his cock down my throat. “you love my throat? how it feels on your cock?” i said as i pulled off of him. he nodded his head, pulling me towards his face.

his lips collided with mine, hungrily kissing me. i pulled on his curls, causing him to moan into my mouth. “wanna be inside you, y/n, need you to be around my cock.” he panted. i leaned back from him, pulling my shorts off my legs.

his hands gripped my thighs, rubbing them up and down. they trailed to my lace panties, quickly tearing them off. “hey! those were expensive!” i pouted. he was kissing at my neck, leaving marks on me before speaking.

“i’ll buy you more. just need you on my cock.” he said, grasping my hips, lining himself up at my entrance. i smirked as i sunk down on him, releasing a moan. “oh fuck, cal, feel so good, so deep in me.” i praised him.

he whimpered at the feeling, still holding my hips as he helped me bounce up and down. “that feel good huh?” i asked him. he moaned, looking up at me.

“so good, ah, fuck! feels so good ma’am.” he spoke. my eyes widened at his words. i slowed down and watch his eyes widen too. i smirked at him, speeding up again.

“didn’t know you were like that cal, would’ve fucked you sooner if i knew.” i teased him. he groaned, and i felt him rut his hips up towards me, hitting deeper than he already was.

“fuck, oh god, calum, gonna cum!” i moaned, clenching myself around him. i continued bouncing on him, feeling him twitch inside me.

“wanna cum inside you, can i please cum inside you.” he begged. i nodded riding out my high. i felt hot spurts of his cum hit my insides, running back out onto his dick. i bounced a few more times before i got off him and laid down on the bed next to him.

we laid there together, our breathing the only sounds to be heard. i turned my head to look at him. “guess i gotta wear your clothes more often, huh?” i asked. he blushed, nodding his head. i ran my fingers through his hair before kissing him softly.

“i hope you guys used a condom!”

[writtenonreceipts]

a/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays @howlingcaptaincommando!  It’s been a delight getting to know you these few weeks, thanks for putting up with my insanity and I hope you enjoy this messy, slightly chaotic thing…I'm sorry you got stuck with me. Considering all the bangers being released already and then there's this...

thank you to @acotargiftexchange for organizing this event again! <3<3<3

Warnings: none (except it’s me so you’ve gotta put up with that) ~10k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

We’re All Waiting On A Dream

Elain Archeron had never done well with winter.

It was an unfortunate truth that no matter what she did—it never changed.

She could fill her house with plants and flowers, she could open all the blinds of the small coffee shop where she worked, she could bake her favorite bread and dessert every day of the week.  But nothing could replace the sunlight of a new spring day or the deep unyielding warmth of the summer sun.

It was only mid-November and she was already craving when the sun would return.  Already, she’d planned just how she would spend those first few warm days of the season and none of them involved being indoors, cold, or sitting around at home.  She was going to travel and make the best of summer.

She just had to wait six months.

The lingering light of afternoon spilled through the front windows of the shop, splashing across the worn hardwood floors.  It was barely four-thirty and already the sun was sneaking lower into the horizon.  In just a few more minutes, it would sink behind the nearest buildings and shadows would replace those gentle strips of light.

It was unavoidable, so Elain made the best of it as she swept around the shop and adjusted the lamps that would soon do a majority of the lighting for the night.  The dark oak flooring was nicked and scuffed from the wear and tear over the years.  If Elain wasn’t mistaken it was the same flooring from when the shop was first built.  One of these days she would try and restore the shabby wood, knowing that with a bit of sanding and new stain, the floors would gleam with new life.  The project, with as much work as it would be, sounded fun.  Another activity to wait to complete though.

For now, she continued her usual tasks as she straightened the small reading couch in one corner and collected a bit of trash that someone left behind.  There usually wasn’t much cleaning to do even as a coffee shop.  They were tucked down a small alleyway on main street, nestled beside the antiques boutique, only the locals ever really knew where to find them.  And on nights like this, things usually remained relaxed and slow.

Really, though—she didn’t mind.  These were the nights she enjoyed most.  The quiet ones.  The easy ones.  The shop had long been her solace, even back in school when she’d just been a patron.  Even when the winter months dragged on and on, she’d found that this place with its shelves of books and the homey atmosphere were welcoming and helped lighten her mind.  It was the kind of the shop where nothing chaotic ever—

The front door jangled open with a frenzy that nearly toppled the bell along the top rail.  A gust of winter air swept through the shop, nibbling at Elain’s exposed ankles.  She spun around just in time to see a tall man dressed in a pair of neat, black pants and deep green sweater enter the shop.  His long red hair hung loose down his shoulders; his warm tanned skin complimented by the colors of his sweater.  He was too handsome for his own good, looking far too confident and sure of himself.  None of which was helped by the smirk that curled his full lips. 

“Elain.” he greeted as soon as he saw her.

Lucien Vanserra.  

Even after all this time of knowing him, she never quite knew what to think of him.  He had a way of taking the peaceable moments and turning them right on their head.  No matter what happened, whenever or wherever Lucien was—there was certainly a bit of mischief to follow.

He was by himself tonight which wasn’t too much of an anomaly.  Often, he was with one of his old college friends, Jurian.  The two of them were well known for rambunctious energy and very little restraint.  Elain had shared several classes with the two of them all through university, ended up in the same study groups, and now was subject to them coming into the shop just about every day.

She supposed she shouldn’t complain too much.  Between college and the two of them were how she met one of her closest friends, Vassa, who was also currently dating Jurian.  Or they were just sleeping together.  Elain wasn’t too sure of the details but knew better than to ask else she face Vassa’s wrath and own probing questions.

Lucien himself was impossible to know, Elain had long ago decided.  He could be an arrogant smartass while all at the same time—an idiot.  The fact that he was the most attractive man Elain had ever seen didn’t help much either. 

“Lucien.”  Much to her chagrin she often was at a loss for words when they came face to face.  She’d always been flustered by him, not that she’d ever admit it.  It was that disarming smile of his she was sure.

Lucien glanced around the empty shop. “Slow night?”

“It was,” Elain said, arching a brow.  Just because he flustered her didn’t mean she had to like him.

Lucien only grinned as he approached the register.  He was too comfortable here, Elain decided.  Especially with that confidence he always seemed to walk with.  She shouldn’t judge him for that.  He was always here at the shop these days, mostly because it was the only quiet space on the downtown strip.  Though, Elain had no idea what he was doing, only that it kept him busy.  He almost always had a computer before him taking care of some sort of work.  If he wasn’t going over documents, he was on the phone in quiet but urgent conversations.  She hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him what it was he did for work, worried that it would open some unknown door that she couldn’t shut if she got in too deep.

She left off cleaning and went behind the counter already putting his usual order in.  He always got the same thing no matter the time of day, no matter the time of year.  She hadn’t meant to memorize it, but when she was always here working and he was always coming in—it was impossible not to do.

“Do you want your usual order?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.  She only realized her mistake upon looking up to find Lucien cocking an eyebrow.

“Keeping tabs on my habits, Elain?” He looked far too pleased at that fact, that smile of his rising just a tick.

“Hard not to when you’re always here,” she said, drily. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nope.” he replied cheerfully.

Lucien really was a hard person to get to know, to understand, really.  Elain had decided that back at university.  His personality was so charming that he often received more attention than most.  His good looks certainly helped too.  Elain didn’t know if calling him a flirt was right or not, but his silver tongue often made her wonder if she’d ever experienced the real Lucien Vanserra.  Even worse was, she sometimes wanted to know the real him.

He only chuckled at her sardonic look. “The usual is great.  With an extra bagel, if you could?”

Elain took his payment and handed back the thick black credit card. “I’ll bring it out to you in a few.”

As she moved to get started on his drink—an iced vanilla latte with caramel—he remained at the counter, leaning against the solid granite.  He did this every so often, trying to strike up a conversation with her.  It was usually the stuff of nonsense that ranged from what she thought about pineapple on pizza to who keeps breaking into local zoos and releasing animals from their cages in the middle of the night.

He was immediately offended when she told him pineapple was acceptable as a pizza topping.  In fact, she didn’t see him for three days after that confession.  Though she didn’t think it really had anything to do with her and more on the lines of the mysterious work he was always up to.

“You’re always here, Elain,” Lucien said.  “Don’t you ever get a break?”

Elain scoffed at the question. “I can’t afford time off.  I’ve got bills to pay.”

School hadn’t been cheap and she still was not working in her major.  A fact she would rather not think about.

“Jurian and I are going to a basketball game next week,” he said, “you should come.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d endeavored to invite her out.  Just a few weeks ago there’d been a party thrown by Lucien’s older brother.  It was supposedly one of the best parties of the year, including New Years.  

Though, Elain wasn’t sure what counted as best party of the year considering all the times Lucien and Jurian had thrown dorm parties involving ranking Mario Cart avatars and how best to optimize playing the game to goldfish racing.

Elain didn’t bother to learn about the second activity.

“Can’t,” she said.  She pulled two toasted bagels from the toaster and wrapped them up with a tube of cream cheese. “Someone’s gotta run the shop.”

It was true.  Alis had stopped trying to hire anyone new because Elain always insisted on picking up shifts.  Sure there was Nuala or Ceridwen who also rotated on shifts, but Elain preferred to be working.

Lucien frowned, just barely, at her answer before he accepted the bagels and finished drink from her. “Alright, it’s an open invitation though.” 

He continued to eye her curiously for a minute longer before finally turning and heading to his usual table in the back corner of the shop.

Elain couldn't help but watch as he settled into his seat before turning back to her workstation to clean up after herself.  A small pang echoed in her chest but she didn’t quite know how to identify the emotion behind it.

It wasn’t as though she wanted to be a recluse.  Ever since leaving school, things hadn’t gone her way.  Jobs kept turning her down.  Her student loans were piling up.  Most of her friends had moved away.  Not to mention her relationship with her sisters was rocky at best.  Their mother’s death hadn’t helped matters either.  In all honesty, the distraction of always being at work was nice.  She was exhausted by the time she got home and almost always immediately fell asleep and didn’t have to think about anything else other than keeping herself (and plants) alive.

She used to be the going out type.  Used to love the social scene.  It got harder though when dad’s health was declining.  And then the Grayson matter.

Something needed to change.  She knew that.  Just a small little switch to flick and then maybe she’d feel a little bit better about where she was in life.  Every time she thought about what that change could be, however, her mind only let her consider all the disastrous and unfortunate outcomes that would inevitably occur.

Which was why Tinder had long since gone dormant on her phone.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Elain was startled to attention by the door of the shop thudding open again.

“Where on earth have you been!”

Elain froze at the voice.  She’d just settled in to run an inventory of supplies on the computer when her sister chose that moment to enter the shop.

Nesta Archeron entered the shop like a whirlwind.  A chaotic, well put together whirlwind that hardly, if ever, touched down.  She was constantly involved with one event or another, specifically to please her fiancé, or she was trying to keep her own career afloat (made nearly impossible because Thomas was an ass).  There was no easy way to describe Nesta.  Especially not when she hardly offered anything of herself in return.  Elain loved her sister, truly she did, but sometimes the woman could be rather intense.  

Her blonde hair was swept back in half-do, tendrils of hair framing her sharp features and emphasizing the startling silver of her eyes.  The neutral tones of her make-up only emphasized her striking beauty and highlighted the determined way she was looking at Elain.

“I’ve been here,” Elain said, slightly amused as she typed into the computer. “All day.  My job is rather annoying like that.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, unamused and stalked the rest of the way to the register, her high heeled shoes clicked lightly on the floor, her black dress and sleek jacket indicating it had been a please the fiancé sort of day and not one to have to herself.  She set her purse, some designer that Elain didn’t recognize, on the counter and leaned forward with a frown.

“You missed the dress fitting,” Nesta said.

Elain nodded. “Just like I told you I would.  There was no one to take my shift and I wasn’t about to close shop in the middle of the day.”

Elain had tried explaining this to her sister before, but since it was an inconvenience for her, Nesta had forgotten it.  Alright.  That was unfair.  Nesta did have quite a bit of stress as she was trying to plan a wedding with a useless fiancé.  And said useless fiancé was having Nesta take over quite a bit of his own business duties.

Anytime Elain tried talking to her sister about it, Nesta shut down and changed the topic entirely.

“I know,” Nesta sighed, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face.  A look of genuine apology flashed in her eyes.  “I know.  I’m sorry, but it was the only time that worked and you know how important this is for Thomas.  But I really needed you at the fitting, Elain.  Everything has to go perfectly.” 

Flinching inwardly, Elain held back a sigh.  On Saturday, her soon to be brother-in-law was to be honored as the new vice-president of his company…doing something of some import.  All because of the work Nesta herself had done.

In any case, Elain would be expected to attend because the more people there in support of Thomas the better he came off to his boss.  Though, if he were being promoted his boss must already think highly of him.  (It was all very convoluted to Elain.)

Then came the fact that Thomas did not like her.  And she didn’t like him, so really it all worked out that way.  But Elain liked her sister.  She wanted to support her sister.  And now she was roped into a hoity toity gala.  She’d have to shave.  Everywhere.

“Nesta,” Elain said patiently, “I am more than happy to support Thomas,” who knew she was an excellent liar? – “and I will be there.  Buy the dress as is and I can have Vassa alter it for me.  She’s good like that.”

Vassa would laugh her ass off is what she would do, but Elain wouldn’t tell Nesta that.

Nesta blinked, a mild look of panic seizing her face.  “Does Vassa know anything about sewing?”

“Sure,” Elain shrugged. “How hard could it be?”

“Elain.”

“Nesta.” Elain reached out and patted her sister’s hand. “The dress fit perfectly the first time I tried it on, three weeks isn’t going to make much of a difference.” 

“Alright.  You’re right.” Nesta sighed, slouching even further into the counter.  Elain had no doubt her sister was counting down the moment to when she could kick her heels off into a corner and not look at them for at least twenty-four hours.  “I won’t worry about the dress.  But, I do need to know who you’re bringing.”

“Bringing?” Elain repeated. An icy feeling started spreading through her.  Oh no.  Oh no.  She hadn’t prepared for this.

“Yes bringing, you can't come alone Elain,” Nesta said. She gave Elain a look as this was the most obvious thing.  “There will be cameras and Thomas’s boss will be there too.”

Why Elain should care about Thomas’s boss, she had no idea.  Why anyone would care about her being there, she had no idea.  And she said as much.

“Who cares if I have a date?” She demanded. “I am a grown woman. I don't have to bring anyone.  I don’t think anyone will want to stamp my picture on whatever new pamphlet the company puts out next year.”

Nesta’s own panic spread across her face. “Please, Elain.  I know it’s a little ridiculous, but it has to go perfectly. I know someone I can ask for you, Thomas has a friend—”

Elain blanched.

“No, no I have someone.  I have someone…a boy. A boyfriend. I have one.” Elain spoke before she even knew what she was saying. She was digging her own grave but her brain hadn't caught up to that fact.

“You have a boyfriend?” Nesta snapped to attention at the words.  Her blue eyes narrowed in on Elain. “Why haven't I heard about him? What's his name, where did he study? Family?”

She really had to think before she spoke.  This was not going to end well.  Elain gaped at her sister trying hard to think of an answer.  How much could she make up before Nesta caught on?  Could she fabricate the perfect gentleman only to have him break her heart on the night of the event?  Or would that be too dramatic and detract from Thomas?

Elain pulled herself together as best she could. “This is why I didn't say anything because I knew you would do this, Nesta.”

“Honestly Elain, if you’re just going to make up a story--” Nesta was already pulling out her phone and selecting a number in her contacts.

“Lucien.”  Elain blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Lucien Vanserra.  That’s who he is. And he's right here. Lucein!”

At the very direct sound of his name, Lucien looked up from his coffee and laptop with a bite of bagel making its way to his mouth.  It was the first time she had ever seen him caught off guard.  It was rather unfortunate that she didn't have time to appreciate it properly. 

Lucien recovered from whatever shock he was facing or he was just that good at reading a situation because he set down his bagel and in a few loping steps he was back out the counter, his grin back in place.

“Elain.” As always, he appeared perfectly agreeable, his casual business wear only emphasizing how put together he was.  Whether he’d overheard what Elain and her sister had been talking about, she couldn’t tell.  She just hoped he was as good an actor as he always seemed to be.

Especially given the fact that Nesta was scrutinizing him in overtime.

“This is the boyfriend?” Nesta asked, her words slow as if she herself needed to make sense of them too.

Lucien glanced at Elain with a rather bemused expression.  She gave him as pleading a look as she could while Nesta continued her assessment.

When Lucien nodded discreetly at her, Elain felt a small bit of relief.  She wouldn’t trust it for long though.

“Lucien Vanserra,” he said.  He extended a hand to Nesta who paused for a moment before accepting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.  Elain talks about you all the time.”

Nesta didn’t answer immediately.  As with everything, she took great care in analyzing everything about a situation.

“Vanserra,” Nesta repeated.  She had a thing about names and people and appearances.  Vanserra must have been a decent enough name because Nesta raised her chin slightly, a slow smile working at one corner of her mouth. “She hasn’t mentioned you before.”

Unperturbed, Lucien adopted his casual ease and laughed. “Considering how long it took for her to pay me any attention, I’m not surprised.”

His words sent an unbidden flush over Elain’s skin even as she glared at him.  She didn’t exactly know what to make of his words either.  Either he was very good at lying on the spot (concerning) or there was a pinch of truth to his words (also concerning).

“Well,” Nesta said. She turned back to Elain abruptly.  “Saturday.  The event starts at seven, I expect you to be there at six-thirty.  Six-thirty, Elain.”

“I will be there,” Elain said, Nesta gave her a look. “We will be there.”

The only thing that saved Elain from further humiliation by her own doing was Nesta’s phone buzzing with an incoming call.

Nesta only ignored it long enough to raise a single brow to Lucien. “Black tie.”

It wasn’t until the door of the shop clicked shut that Elain let out a rather unfeminine groan and nearly collapsed across the work counter.  What had she just gotten herself into? 

“So,” Lucien said, his voice growing closer as he filled the space Nesta vacated.  Elain looked up to him leaning across the space to get closer to her. “When did we start dating?”

Elain felt her cheeks flush deeper.  Oh hell, what had she done?

Huffing out a breath she straightened and ran her hands through her hair. She fixed Lucien with as menacing a look as she could while he kept grinning.

“What was I supposed to do?  She was going to set me up with someone from her fiancé’s work.  I’ve seen a majority of those men, no good options.”  Elain knew she was rambling in desperation, but she couldn’t help it.  Thankfully the embarrassment of the past ten minutes hadn’t set in yet.  That was one miracle she’d accept.

“Hm,” Lucien hummed, “I do see your dilemma.  This is a rather interesting choice of action though, all the same.”

Groaning, Elain started pacing behind the counter. “It’s fine.  I can make up a dramatic break-up story within the next three days.  That’ll fix this. Oh, no.  It won’t because she knows your name, she’ll find you.  I could fake an illness?  Except I used that the last time there was one of these events.”

This was turning out to be not very good.  

Elain stopped and looked at him. “I am so sorry. This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Ah, Elain, what you don’t know about me is that I was born for mischief and mayhem.  Just ask my mother, she has an entire photo album dedicated to the destruction I caused as a child.”

“I don’t think this is helping,” she said, slightly horrified.

He flashed her a smile. “Oh but it will help.  I can promise a night full of fun, you’ll hardly even realize you’re at a…where are we going?”

“A work party for her fiancé’s marketing company,” Elain explained, crinkling her nose as she remembered the rather mundane and boring job Thomas had. “He just landed an account for drills and is being promoted.”

“Why the hell would anyone—” Lucien cut himself off with a wave of his hand— “doesn’t matter.  The point still stands that I can guarantee a fun night.”

“Can you hold a conversation about drills?”

“No but I do know magic.”

“Absolutely not.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment.

Lucien spoke first. “It’d be hilarious.  Get you out of any more of these events.”

A startled laugh escaped her.  She couldn’t help it.  There was just something in the way he spoke and the sincerity that he held that just seemed funny.  At her first bubble of laughter, Lucien joined in.  

“C’mon, Elain, consider it a practice run,” he said.

“Practice run?” Elain repeated.

“Sure,” Lucien shrugged. “When you come to the basketball game with Jurian and I.  Vassa can come.”

His eyes sparked with a mix of humor and…hope?

Elain approached the counter again, still not believing that he was agreeing to this.  Even with a little bit of insistence to his own favor.  In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure why he was so interested in her.  In school she’d been a bit intense in her studies and hadn’t left much room from friendships or other relationships for that matter.  But he’d always been there on the edge of her sights.  A nuisance sure, but there all the same.  And there weren’t a lot of people she could say the same of.

“You have a suit and tie?” she asked.  He nodded. “You’re okay with pretending to be my boyfriend?” Another nod. “You won’t let this be a thing that you hold over my head?”

“Elain,” Lucien said.  A bit of the humor left his voice and he straightened. “Consider it a favor among friends.  You don’t even have to go watch basketball.  I want to help you out.”

She worried her lip, still not completely convinced.  But she knew what would happen if she showed up alone and knew that Nesta would laud it over her for the rest of their lives.

“Alright,” she agreed. “Lucien Vanserra, would you please be my fake boyfriend?”

His russet eyes sparked.  “Elain Archeron, it would be my pleasure.”

…

On Saturday evening, Elain found herself trying to control her sanity.  It was not going very well.

“Would you hold still?” Vassa muttered for yet another time.  She stabbed Elain’s shoulder with a bobby pin. “We’re almost done.”

Elain squirmed again.  Usually, she didn’t mind sitting still and being pampered.  Hell, she loved it.  Getting dressed up and looking her best was something she missed being able to do.  It had been the one thing she was looking forward to about the night.  After so long of being so shut in, having a night to just be and have fun?  If it weren’t for the mess of dealing with Thomas (and now a forced fake relationship) she wouldn’t have given her sister such a hard time.  

As it was, she was still nervous.  

Maybe it was being out among people again?  No, she’d always loved people and making new friends.  It had to be Lucien.  It had to be the idea of getting closer to him even for a night.  She had no idea why.  It was just Lucien.  

But the closer the clock ticked to six, the more her stomach flopped.

Vassa tugged hard on Elain’s hair.

“Ow!”

“Oops.”

Elain glared through the mirror at her friend who ignored her.  It hadn’t taken very much pleading to enlist her friends help in preparing for this stupid party.  Mostly just a promised girl’s night out. Though, after Elain had explained what had happened and who she would be going with and the entirety of the fake boyfriend situation—Vassa had found no issue in helping Elain out.

Once she’d stopped laughing of course.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Elain muttered.  She wrung her hands together as she stared at their reflections. “I should have just put my foot down and told Nesta no.”

“Since when has telling Nesta no ever worked out, Elain?” Vassa replied.  She shoved another bobby pin into place causing Elain to wince. “Besides, Lucien is fun.  Do you remember in school when he hired a mariachi band to follow the dean around?”

That, admittedly, had been hilarious.  There was also the time Lucien and Jurian had built a giant outdoor water slide on the hottest day of the year.  Complete with a water balloon fight afterwards.  If there was one thing to say about Lucien it was that he enjoyed having a good time.

“And he’s good looking,” Vassa added.

“Vassa,” Elain sighed.

“He comes into your shop a lot too,” Vassa said.  She cocked her head to one side through the mirror, a small smile on her lips.

Elain’s glare went ignored.  Again.

After another few minutes, Vassa hummed happily and patted Elain’s head.

“There,” she said. “I think that looks good.”

It really did.  

While Elain could often manage on her own to make herself look flawless and put together—she’d needed a bit more confidence for that night.  And who else could she ask for help than Vassa?  

Most of her hair still flowed down her back in loose curls, but the rest was pulled up in a twisting braid.  It all came together with the carefully applied make-up Elain had done.  

“Thanks,” Elain said.  She touched a few places in her hair out of habit.  Everything was perfect though.

“You’re gonna look great,” Vassa said.  Her smile was infectious as she leaned in for a quick hug.  “Let's get you in your dress.  He’ll be here any minute.”

Elain’s stomach flopped again.  She really wasn’t going to get out of this was she?  And yet there was a small part of her that asked if she really wanted to.  

It had been ages since she’d had a fun night out.  Even if it was to go to an event for Thomas of all people—Elain was just eager for fun.  And she was going with Lucien.  Lucien who actually made Elain smile.  And he’d never pressured her in all the little flirtations he’d thrown her way.  He’d remained respectful and even kept his distance when she’d silently begged for it.  Not that he’d known what was going in in her life, but her relationship with Grayson had been a joke.  It’s what had led to her slipping away from her usual outgoing self…

Elain banished the thoughts away.  She couldn’t be thinking about this.

She hurried after Vassa and down the hall to her room.

She hadn’t been able to get any help with making extra modifications to the gown, but she wasn’t worried.  She’d never had an issue with finding things that fit easily.  Both Nesta and Feyre hated her for it, but Elain had never been more grateful than she was that night.

Vassa was already pulling the dress from its coverings, revealing the floor length fabric.  If there was one thing Elain could trust Nesta in, it was her fashion sense.

The dress was a pale purple made of a light chiffon fabric.  There was a little bit of rouching at the sides with a draped neckline.  Elian’s favorite part about the dress though were the sheer flutter sleeves.  It might be a little impractical with the chill weather, but she didn’t care.

She couldn’t help the small smile as she examined the dress.  Yes.  She was more than a little excited to wear it.  She hurried and stripped from her leggings and tank top before shimming into the dress.  The other good thing was that she didn’t have to mess with a strapless bra and could get away with what she usually wore.

She waited as Vassa zipped her in and brushed out any wrinkles or funny lines in the fabric.

Vassa hummed in amusement as she circled Elain once. “Your breasts look amazing.”

Hell.

Elain smacked her friend on the arm and turned to the full-length mirror propped up in the corner of her room.  Indeed, her breasts looked amazing.  The dress was of a silky material that clung to Elain’s usually nonexistent curves.  The sweetheart neckline dipped a bit lower than she expected, showing off more of her neck and collarbones.  The soft purple color complimented her lighter complexion and the rich brown undertones of her hair.  She didn’t look washed out or haunted—she looked like herself.  Happy.

“Damn,” Elain sighed. “I was hoping I’d look terrible.  Nesta wouldn’t blame me for not showing up if I looked like a cow.”

Vassa snorted a laugh. “Please, Elain.  You’d look good in anything.”

Elain bit her lip and gave a half spin, watching the fabric twist with her movements. “I don’t know if I have a jacket that will match.  It’s too cold to go without something.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Vassa said before disappearing to her own room.

As soon as she vanished, there was a knock at the front door and Elain froze.  Hell.  It was already time, wasn’t it?

She took a long breath, flattening her hands over her stomach.  She could do this.  It was going to be fun and easy.  Lucien after all had agreed to no pressure, they were simply friends.  She stared into her own eyes, gave a sharp nod and hurried down the hall to the small entry way of the apartment.  She took one more steadying breath as she pulled the door open.  

There, looking impeccable in a neat, black suit and perfectly knotted tie was Lucien.  His hair was unfortunately pulled back into a low hanging tail, Elain always liked seeing it loose.  The suit fit him well, emphasizing his muscular build well.  He looked good.  He’d always been handsome with his tall figure and strong jaw, but tonight felt different.

Elain knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it.  The only solace she took in that was the way Lucien was taking her in.  His gaze flicked from her dress to her face and she swore his mouth parted just a bit.  Now he was just putting on a show.

“Lucien,” she said, trying desperately to untangle her tongue. “You clean up well.”

That had to be the stupidest thing she could have said.  Hell in handbasket, what was wrong with her?

Still, that familiar smile of his returned and a glint sparked in his rich russet eyes. “I could say the same about you, Elain.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver racing down her spine.  Another thing she didn’t know how to reconcile.  Because if she were being honest, she was surprised he’d shown up at all.  He easily could have text a brief can’t make it text and really, could she have blamed him?  She cleared her throat, hands wringing together nervously.  She had no idea what was wrong with her—she didn’t get nervous, especially not around Lucien Vanserra of all people.

 “I almost thought you didn’t own a tie,” she added, falling back to what she knew--sarcasm. “You always say they’re too restricting.”

Lucien rolled his eyes.  “Until I started working for my brother.  Apparently, I have to be professional nowadays.” 

“Poor Lucien,” Elain sighed, “has to join the real world with the rest of us.”

“It’s terrible,” he agreed.

Before either of them could say anything else, Vassa gave a shout of triumph from down the hall.

“I found it!” With the rapid pattering of bare feet, Vassa careened from her room and down to the entryway of the apartment.  Her red hair pitched violently to one side from the confines of her bun.  She waved a stylish jacket at Elain as she approached. “It will match perfectly, Nesta won’t have to gouge your eyes out.”

Elain accepted the jacket. “Thanks, Vassa.”

“Of course,” Vassa said.  She then flashed Lucien an appraising look. “Hello Vanserra.”

Lucien accepted Vassa’s scrutiny with grace, only continuing to smile with that charming grin of his. “Vassa, nice to see you again.”

Despite her earlier words of approval of him--Vassa continued to eye him suspiciously.  

“I have a list of rules that should be adhered to,” she began.

“No you do not,” Elain said.  She brushed past Vassa and gave her a quick hug.  “We’re late.  Thank-you for your help.”

She grabbed Lucien’s arm and ushered him out the door as quickly as possible.   

“Don’t do anything illegal, I don’t have bail money!” Vassa shouted after them.  

Elain let the door click shut without calling back a response.  It was easier that way.  Especially when there was no guarantee what Vassa would say next.  Sometimes her filter was a hit and miss.  

“She’s always such a delight,” Lucien commented as they got on the elevator.

Elain snorted a laugh. “Oh, yeah.  She teeters on the edge of unsuspecting sweetheart to raging terror real quick.”

Once you got to know Vassa, to understand her nuances and her habits--she maintained the questionable reputation but with a bit more trust and care on your part.  Truly, Elain didn’t know where she would be without her friend.

“Didn’t she stage a revolution of frogs from the Biology Department on campus?” Lucien asked.

“It was very well organized,” Elain admitted.  She did not, however, remind Lucien that she had been right beside Vassa in running said revolution.

Despite Lucien’s protests, Elain insisted she drive.  Mostly for that semblance of control that she felt was slipping away from her.  She was far too nervous that she needed to be for the night.  Which was ridiculous considering this would turn out to be the most boring night imaginable.  No matter what Nesta insisted.

“Isn’t this the car you had back in school?” Lucien asked as Elain pulled out onto the highway.  “How is it still running?”

True, Elain’s small two-door car had quite a few years on her and the air conditioning didn’t work, but it was a good car.  She said as much.

“She’s reliable and all of her issues are easily fixed,” Elain said. She paused. “Well, that’s mostly because the stereo is really good and the speakers drown out any annoying sound.”

“Right, so what you’re telling me is that I could possibly die tonight?”

“You’re the one who insisted on helping me out,” Elain replied.  She smiled then, allowing the small levity of the moment to potentially ease her nerves.  When she glanced at Lucien, she found him watching her, a look of amusement in his eyes.

She turned back to the road and tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at just having him here.  It was stupid really.  Just a response to being grateful he’d volunteered to this hairbrained idea.

“So,” Lucien began after a few minutes of silence, “how long have we been dating?”

“Is this really necessary?” she asked, the flutters picking up pace at his words.

“We’ve got to have a background Elain,” Lucien insisted, “can’t have anyone poking holes in this plot.  What would your sister say?”

Elain paused only a beat. “That I could have tried harder.”

“Exactly, now.  How long have we been dating?” he asked.

Elain wondered if she should be concerned by his enthusiasm about this. “Just a few months. Nothing elaborate.” 

“A few months and already willing to send me to the throes of your family?  You must really like me then.”

Elain glared while Lucien laughed.  It continued from there with them establishing details of how best they could pull this off.  Mostly, they leaned on their college days to fill in any details of how they met and things like that.  There wouldn’t be much lying involved since they’d shared so many classes right up until the division into their specific degrees. But Elain couldn’t help but laugh as he insisted it would work out fine.

“Please, Lucien,” she said as she pulled into the event center, where there was a line waiting for the valet. “You hated me back then, how’s anyone going to believe this?” 

“You think I hated you?” Lucien asked, genuine concern flashing in his eyes.

Elain’s lips parted, though she didn’t know how to reply.  She started to speak when a soft knock on her window indicated the valet was ready for them.

Glad for the interruption, she scrambled out of the car.  The young man dressed in a starched red vest was kind enough to help her out of the dinky little car.  And he didn’t even give her a side-eyed glance at the pathetic nature of her car.  That was nice.

She was still smoothing out her dress when Lucien came around the car and offered up his arm for her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, accepting the offer.  If she were being honest, she needed the support of someone beside her for this.  It had been a while since she’d come out to an event like this.  Ever since her messy break-up with Grayson, she just hadn’t been up to going out.  

And she loved parties.  Truly, before Grayson, this would have been the highlight of her night, her week.  But after everything the man had put her through, Elain felt more than a bit of unease run through her.  Insecurities she’s felt throughout her relationship resurfaced.  She needed this night to prove to herself, and Nesta, that she was fine.  She was more than fine.  She was back to her usual self.  She was moving on.  She was—

“Elain,” Lucien said from beside her, his finger squeezing her arm just enough to be reassuring, “I can hear you overthinking this.”

She made a non-committal noise and let Lucien lead them up to the entrance doors behind another couple.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “Really it is, all Nesta needs is to see me, then we can go find the caterer and beg for free food while hiding in the kitchen.”

“We can do that?” he asked, sounding intrigued by the idea. “I thought you’d jump at the opportunity to be at an event like this.”

“Usually I would,” Elain admitted, she shrugged delicately.  “I just can’t help but think something will go wrong with the night.  Or the dress.  Nesta wanted me to get it professionally altered but I didn’t have time, or money.  But Nesta likes being in control of things like this, I guess.”  She paused.  “I have cash stuffed in my bra; I am not beneath offering bribes.  We could be out of here in five minutes if we wanted.”

“Elain,” Lucien said softly as a woman offered to take their coats, “you’re freaking out.”

“If I were freaking out, you’d know it,” Elain replied. “I am merely over explaining everything to give me less time to worry about everything else.”

They entered the main hall of the center that had been completely transformed from the last time Elain had been here for a coffee expo for work.  Instead of standard tables and plain rugs, there was open space intermixed with tall glass tables and softly glowing lights.  It actually looked like an important event and some hoax.   

“Here she comes,” Elain said, spotting her sister immediately.  

Nesta strode toward them with purposeful steps.  The dress clung to her curves from the chest to her waist before billowing out around her hips.  The dark blue fabric was inlaid with beads that caught in the light, offering a little softness to the otherwise intimidating dress.  Though, there was no one else who could have pulled it off then Nesta.  She’d twisted her hair into a coronet of braids with beaded pins to match the dress. 

Elain couldn’t help but fidget with her dress.  Nesta had always been strikingly beautiful not only with her looks, but she was tall and well portioned in all the right places she should have been.  Elain had never felt the same about herself.  Oh, she’d been called lovely and pretty on many occasions, but here and now she felt like nothing in comparison to her sister.

A hand rested at the small of her back and Lucien leaned in to her side. “You look beautiful, Elain.  And if your sister doesn’t think so, she’s insane.”

The simple words caused heat to rise in Elain’s cheeks and she found herself staring into Lucien’s eyes.  Bright, russet eyes that had flecks of gold spinning amid the darker shades.  The certainty with which he spoke surprised her more than anything.

“Elain!” Nesta called out in a cheery voice that belied how stressed out she actually was.  Nesta was never cheerful.  Elain could swear she could see the whites of her sister’s eyes even from ten feet away. “There you are.”

“Nesta,” Elain greeted as her sister approached. 

Nesta pulled Elain into a tight hug, shocking considering how touch averse the eldest Archeron could be.  Elain accepted it for the good will gesture it was.

When she pulled back, Nesta smiled softly.  “You do look lovely.  The dress turned out perfect.”

“Thank-you,” Elain murmured.

Nesta gave her arm another squeeze before turning to look Lucien over.  She nodded once tightly.  “Well.  I’m glad you’re both here.  It’s going to be a good night.  Thomas’ boss is over there with the red tie, don’t look!  Red tie, silver hair.  Do not talk to him unless you promise to behave.”

“I’m twenty-five, Nesta,” Elain said, “I know how to behave in social situations.”

Nesta fixed her with a signature unamused glare just as Lucien spoke up.

“Does that mean no magic tricks?” He leaned in into Elain. “I practiced and everything.”

“Absolutely not.” Nesta gaped at him.

Elain barely managed to hold back her grin. “Oh, but he’s actually really good, Nesta. Doesn’t even need an assistant or anything.”

That got a warning finger waggled in both of their faces.

“Absolutely no shenanigans,” she said, “do I made myself clear?”

A spare glance at Lucien told Elain he was trying, and failing to appear chastened.

“We’ll go occupy ourselves,” Elain said, “don’t worry so much.”

That was probably the last thing Nesta wanted to hear.  But Elain only smiled brightly and grabbed Lucien’s hand, pulling him with her.

“We’ll be over here!”

“Not doing magic.”

Elain smacked Lucien on the chest.  He didn’t even bother to hide his laugh.

“Behave!” Nesta hissed.  She spun on her heel to return to Thomas’ side where he was regaling his boss with what must have been a truly miserable story about the lint stuck to his tie.

“C’mon,” Elain said, one hand still gripping Lucien’s. “I think there’s an open bar.”

Together, they slipped through the throngs of people that continued to arrive.  Elain recognized a few from various parties she’d been forced to attend on other occasions.  How she’d gained such notoriety for herself was a bit concerning.  Both for her sake and Nesta’s, seeing as how Nesta would insist on determining a contingency plan to explain Elain’s antics to whoever may listen.

 The plan would have to explain away Lucien now too as Elain was forced to introduce her boyfriend over and over.  

After nearly fifteen minutes of socializing with people Elain barely even knew--they managed to break free to the tables standing at the ready for a casual setting of drinks and hor-d'oeuvres brought around by waitstaff in black and white uniforms.

“Why don’t you get a table,” Lucien suggested, “I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Sure,” Elain agreed.

She watched him as he disappeared into the small crowd near the bar.  It was strange being here with him.  Having him as her date and acting like this was the most normal thing to occur.  She didn’t really understand why he’d agreed to this plan—helping her.  Well, if only to swindle another date out of her.  But this certainly was an elaborate way to get what he wanted.

She managed to find a few open chairs at a back table, not that she minded.  To have a little bit of isolation away from the awkward small talk of Thomas’ company was preferable.

Though, just as she moved to go claim the seats, a hand grabbed her elbow.  Elain spun around to come face to face with the one person she’d been hoping to avoid.

“Grayson,” Elain said, trying her best not to appear utterly taken aback by his appearance.  She’d known he was going to be here.  Had planned for it really, she’d just hoped he wouldn’t have actually tried to talk to her.

They’d dated for a year, the relationship ending only a few months ago now.  Nesta had introduced them at an event just like this.  Grayson worked in just one department over from Thomas.  It was the perfect situation, Nesta had insisted, and Grayson had always been a respectable prospect.  

But everything promptly fell apart when Elain had suggested going back to get her master’s and maybe even doctorate.  The news hadn’t settled well with Grayson who only wanted a perfect nuclear family and a perfect wife to be waiting for him at home.

She drew away from him even as he tried stepping in closer.

“Elain, it’s good to see you.” Grayson had a standard profile, nothing truly remarkable in his looks, though he did have a good nose.  His brown hair was neatly styled back, cut in a perfect standard haircut. “I didn’t think you would be here.”

“I’m supporting my sister and her fiance,” Elain said.  

She’d spent the better part of the last few months not necessarily getting over him—rather the way he made her feel.  She hadn’t been happy with the thought of simply coming home and doing nothing with her life.  While she wanted a family and wanted kids, she knew there was more she wanted to do with her life first.  Grayson had tried to make her regret all those things.  He’d stifled her, guilted her, done all the things that made her question who she really was.

There had been enough time wasted over him that she wasn’t interested in wasting even more.

She tried slipping past him. “I should go, I have—”

Grayson was too quick for her.  He stepped in front of her again, hand already reaching for her.

“We should talk, get caught up,” he insisted.

Elain could only stare.  He’d been so insistent about a clean break that he hadn’t even bothered to return any of the things she’d left at his apartment.  Only to pop up in her DMs a few months later to “check-up.”  She didn’t need this.  Or want this.

“No,” she said.  “You don’t actually want that, Gray.  And I certainly don’t.”

The grip on her arm tightened as a dark look flashed in his pale eyes.  He’d never liked being told no.  Some would say that was what made him good at his job.  Elain would say that was the real reason why she was happy with their break-up.

“Everything alright, Elain?”

Never had that voice sent so much relief spiraling through her.  Behind Grayson, Lucien had returned, drinks in hand.  But he wasn’t looking at Elain.  His attention rested solely on Grayson who slowly turned to assess the new arrival.

To Grayson’s credit, he didn’t balk at the sight of Lucien.  Even though Lucien was several inches taller with a stronger build.  Grayson had always been on the leaner side.  But with the dark look in his eyes and the way he stood, nearly towering over the bother of them—Lucien was not someone to be easily ignored.

“She’s fine,” Grayson answered before Elain had the chance.

Lucien quirked a single eyebrow and finally looked at Elain.  He still had that hard look in his eyes, but Elain knew that razor thin line between anger and control had nothing to do with her.

“Is everything alright, Elain?” he asked again.

“Fine,” Elain replied, rather proud that she was able to keep her voice even. “I was just telling Grayson that you were waiting for me.”

This time as Elain pulled away, Grayson let her go.  She was able to skirt around him and to Lucien without any fanfare.  As it was, they’d drawn a few eyes of other attendees.

“Elain,” Grayson began.  But Elain had no desire to hear what else he had to say.

“My boyfriend and I were leaving,” she said promptly.

Then with a bit more force than she intended, she managed to drag Lucien away from the growing scene.  It was a shame, she really wanted to dance at least a little bit.

She didn’t stop until they were through a small side door that led out into an empty hallway.  It was blissfully quiet and several degrees cooler than in the event room.  

“That,’ she said, “was just what I wanted to avoid.”

Lucien said nothing, only handing her a glass of champagne.  Elain accepted it gratefully.  While she’d never much cared for the taste, she needed something that would maybe settle her nerves.  Because everything inside of her was feeling spun on its head.

After she drowned the first glass, Lucien held out the second which she took too.

“Are you sure you're alright?” he asked again.  He didn’t try to reach out to her or comfort her in any other way.  Which Elain was grateful for.  The adrenaline still snapping through her would likely have made her do something stupid.

“Yeah,” she said.  She took another sip of champagne before shaking her head. “He’s just an ass and I should have done a better job at avoiding him.”

“Ex?” he confirmed.

“I didn’t even like him that much,” Elain admitted.  

She took a step down the blackened hallway that had only one emergency light burning in the distance.  A sheer glass wall looked out into a small garden walkway between two different parts of the center.  Most of the foliage was beginning to bloom with bright green leaves dancing in a small breeze that rustled outside.

Elain turned back to Lucien and smiled softly. “Sorry.  I promised an easy night out, not stacked with drama.  Thank-you though, for showing up when you did.”

“What are fake boyfriends for?” Lucien joked, returning her smile. “Did you know he’d be here?”

“I figured,” Elain said, “Nesta had Thomas introduce us.  And It was fine for a while…until it wasn’t.  I think she was going to try and set me up with him again tonight, just so I wouldn’t show up alone.”

Elain smiled softly.  She didn’t blame her sister, not really.  She hadn’t told anyone except Vassa the real reason behind her and Gray’s break-up.  She just didn’t think Nesta would understand.  Her sister had always had so much control over her own life that Elain felt if she admitted to her own insecurities…it would almost be a failure in and of itself.

“And I didn’t want that,” Elain said.  She set the second champagne glass down on a side table that had been left out in the hall. And then because it seemed like the best thing to do, she apologized again. “I’m sorry.”

“Elain,” Lucien said, stepping towards her. “You have nothing to apologize for.  Hell, you got roped into this whole night against your will.”

“Sometimes it’s just easier to go along with Nesta,” Elain said with a wane smile.  “I know she just wants this to be a good night for Thomas and she’s doing her best but…”

Lucien didn’t let her finish her sentence.  He took her hand in one of his large ones, immediately engulfing her in warmth.

 “C’mon.”

He began pulling her down the hall, away from the party.

“What?  Where are we going?” Elain asked.

Lucien only flashed a mischievous smile, the overhead lights catching in the deep umber of his eyes.  He led them to an emergency exit that took them outside to the cool night air.  After the stress of running into Grayson, the fresh air felt wonderful to Elain.  Even if the overhead clouds threatened rain, she loved the feeling of being outside.

After a few yards they reached the valet stand once again.  The same workers as before eyed them with a mix of amusement and wariness.

“We’ll need our car back,” Lucien informed them, passing a tip over as he spoke.  He then turned to Elain. “Wait here, I’ll get your coat.  I’d rather not have Vassa plot my murder.”

He shucked off his own jacket in the meantime and draped it over her shoulders before dashing off back to the event center.  Elain could only stare after him.  Was he seriously suggesting they leave early?  Elain could already picture the face Nesta would be making once she realized they were gone.  And the texts she’d receive.

But she knew even if she’d tried to object to Lucien, he would ignore her and insist playing a little hooky never hurt anyone.  It wasn’t long at all when he returned with her coat.

“What are we doing?” Elain asked as they swapped coats back. 

“There’s an ice cream place just down the street,” Lucien said, “best pecan praline in the city.  None of the food in there was interesting anyways, no bacon and no shrimp.  I checked.”

Elain’s sad little car puttered into view, coming to a stop just before them.  The valet got out, holding the door open.

“Ah-ah,” Lucien said, blocking Elain before she could get in. “You had two glasses of champagne.”

“One and a half,” she argued.

“Close enough.” He had the gall to wink at her before escorting her around to the passenger side. “Relax, Elain.”

She scowled at him, but ultimately knew he was right.  She shouldn’t be driving even if she thought she was fine.  Instead, she glared at him the entire time that he got into the driver’s seat and made a big show of adjusting just about everything he could think of.

“Damn, Elain, you’re short.”

“Vassa’s not the only one who can plot a murder you know,” she grumbled.

Not at all concerned by the mild threat, Lucien drove them the short distance to the small ice cream shop he’d mentioned.  Two oversized cups later they were back sitting in the parking lot with the car heater running while they watched the traffic in the distance.

“Nesta’s going to kill me,” Elain mused as she tasted her helping of pecan praline.  Which admittedly was the best she’d ever had.

“Just tell her it’s part of my famous magic act,” Lucien said, “the Now you see me, Now you don’t addition.”

Elain snorted. “Hm, I do always love a good disappearing act.”

“See?  Magic’s not all bad.”

Elain shook her head, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh.  He must have sensed her straining efforts because he nudged her with his elbow.

“It’s alright admitting you were wrong, natural even.” He took a spoonful of his own ice cream--rocky road—and nodded to her. “Though, perfectionist that you are, I know how hard that is for you.”

“I’m not a perfectionist!” 

“Several hours’ worth of arguing in study rooms suggest otherwise.”

“Saying you’re going to wing it on an assignment worth thirty percent or our grade is irresponsible and ridiculous,” she told him.  A few of their shared assignments had been rather difficult to get through considering both of their different study approaches.  

“I still scored as well as you did,” he reminded her.

Rolling her eyes, Elain ate more ice cream. “But you never hated me?”

The words from earlier still lingered in the back of her mind and with everything else that had happened that night, she hadn’t really been able to puzzle them out.

“No,” Lucien said, “you were never someone I could hate.”

Elain watched him for a moment, considering her words.  She’d never really imagined herself here, eating ice cream while dressed in formal wear with someone she’d once rivaled with.  Someone she hadn’t seen completely.

“I know nothing about basketball,” she informed him, “so that game you’re planning on taking me to could turn into a disaster.  You’ll have to keep me well stocked with garlic fries and lemonade.”

“Whatever you say, Elain.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Thanks for reading y’all I hope you enjoyed it!  I have the vaguest of vague ideas for a nessian spin off, but who knows… anyways, love y’all and Merry Christmas <3

Tumblr is still throwing fits about my tag lists and I can’t do an extended tag list of people.  So, if you’d reblog I would really appreciate it! 

[veryveryverytemporarily]

So I wrote this ficlet for Christmas then didn't post it because I wanted to add to it, but then the converstaion with Aaron about ghosts made me realize I'd written the same idea haha. So here it is anyway...

‘Oh, Aaron, I was hoping I’d see you. Can I have a word? Not here, outside?’

There was something about her eyes, so he’d put back the mince pies he’d been going to buy and followed her into the night.

She’d kept walking until she was out of earshot of customers choosing vegetables, and then she’d turned and looked up at him, face lit by sparkling angels high above them on Main Street.

‘It’s about Christmas.’

‘Did my Mum put you up to this? I’m not joining her for the Dingle dinner this year, I’ve told her that.’

‘No, not your Mum. This is about my Christmas, well, mine, and yours, too.’

She was searching his face, and something about her expression made him suddenly breathless. He took a step backwards, buried his hands in his pockets.

‘So, wh…what then…is it that you want me to babysit Harry? Is it that? ‘Cos you know I will...,’ he could hear a tremor in his voice.

‘No, Aaron, not that.’

Her eyes were like saucers looking back at him and he felt his strength seeping into the night.

‘There’s no easy way of telling you this…,’ she said.

‘Telling me what?’

She reached up and held his sleeve, he could feel his heart blundering around in his chest even before she spoke. Hadn’t he had enough knocks?

But he knew what she was going to say, and when she did speak, her words were just an echo, as if time had splintered and sent him ahead so he opened his mouth…

‘It’s Robert,’ they both spoke in unison.

‘…isn’t it?’ he added weakly, looking down at the glistening black surface of the road where he could see stars reflected.

‘Yes,’ Vic was still holding his sleeve, anchoring him. ‘Robert’s coming home. He’s been released.’

He stood at the top of the drive going down to the Mill. Watching.

He saw his Mum outside wearing dark glasses against the afternoon winter sunshine and a warmer round her wrists. Paddy, calling out to her, wrapped in a red scarf, held Evie’s hand as they made their way over towards the entrance of the Woolpack.

Bundled up in a kid’s fur coat, Evie saw him from the distance, smiled, and waved.

He waved back, then when Chas turned in his direction, he looked away. He had no space in his head for the aggro. Not today.

So, instead he returned to watching the turning at the top of the street. Watching for a taxi.

‘I’ve got a return flight booked to Southampton to bring him back. He said he’d manage on his own, but he’ll be disorientated in the big wide world and I want to make sure he gets here alright,’ Vic had said. ‘I don’t even know how much cash they give them, the discharge grant or something, I read about it on the families forum.’

‘Seventy-six pounds,’ Aaron had stated.

‘And then what? Left to fend for yourself on the street if you haven’t got family?’ Vic observed darkly.

‘Well luckily he’s got you,’ Aaron had answered, swallowing. What he’d wanted to hear her say was ‘And you.’ But he wasn’t Robert’s family anymore, was he? What would Robert want him to be?

His stomach felt hollow. What if Robert didn’t want him around at all?

‘Wendy’s going to have Harry until I’m back,’ Vic went on.

‘Does she know?’

Victoria shook her head with a frown as she focused on extracting a blue shirt from its wrapping, and changed the subject.

‘I got him this, and those boxers, and socks,’ she gestured with her chin, ‘and that sweater and these jeans, do you think they’ll be alright?’

She held the jeans up.

Aaron blinked and nodded.

The wool sweater Vic had got for him was midnight blue. He’d reached out when her back was turned and touched the cuff of it.

Darkness dropped swiftly. In his head, the street was haunted.

Like an ancient battle ground, wraiths, and phantoms: In the haze beneath the fur tree with its fairy lights, Aaron could see them.

Finn for one, hair combed and neatly dressed with his cupid’s bow pout, popping over to the Wooly for a pint of Christmas sherry.

Jackson waiting by the bus stop, raising a can of beer to his mouth, still asking the eternal question - Did you love me?

And there was Gerry; goofing about, trailing along behind him as he went out running - but no, he mustn’t think of Gerry because that would make him think of Liv. And thinking of Liv was impossible.

He straightened his back.

A way behind him a door opened and lit the drive so he could see his shadow on the sparkly tarmac appear and disappear again. He heard footsteps and boyish voices, and then Suni and Nicky passed him with a courteous but cautious evening, and close behind them Ethan, who stopped, eyelashes fluttering over shining cheeks.

He had to admit that he’d been flirting. Now he felt incredulous. One day he’d apologize, but not tonight.

Ethan was talking but he’d had to say pardon because he hadn’t been listening.

‘It’s Suni’s first venture out since, well, you know. We’re taking him for a pint; do you want to join us?’

‘No,’ Aaron answered abruptly, and then added, ‘Thanks but, no, anyway.’

‘Oh, well, have a good night then,’ Ethan replied.

Aaron hardly registered his confused frown as he walked on. None of it mattered, he was deleting his recent past, like scrubbing out lines in a badly written text.

He was looking to his real past; all the memories; a heady treasure trove full to overflowing, lost but maybe if wishes could come true, he might hunt it out and unlock it all over again - and x marking the spot was a small cottage on Main Street.

As if on cue the full beam of headlights rounded the corner and a taxi crawled into the street and slowed to a stop, engine turning.

He reeled forward, his heart erratic.

But then Suni, Nicky and Ethan appeared again and he realized his mistake.

He stroked a hand down his face and tried to calm his breathing as the taxi reversed accompanied by the sound of receding laughter, and left him to the silence and the ghosts.

And then in his pocket his phone buzzed. Vic leaving a text.

I thought you’d be here. We’ve been back ages.

He’d been trying on the clothes and his long pale fingers were pulling down the hem of the sweater over his midriff, when Aaron stepped in over the threshold.

His skin was ghostly white, his cheeks hallow. His hair was long and he’d got some sort of beard going on. For a moment it was hard to reconcile this man with the image he’d been carrying round in his head of the husband he’d lost.

But his eyes; grey -green like the sea at Filey on a blustery spring day, staring back at him like he would sweep away all his defenses, his eyes were all Robert.

And it took all his strength not to reach out and hold him, like a possession: His possession. His man; his only man, finally here in front of him.

[nadinediary]

Corporate Fashion with 𝒩adine.

As of the beginning of 2023, I got promoted to coordinator at my job, making me a full-time corporate girlie. I wanted to share some fashion tips and advice for my other entry-level girls who are new to the corporate workplace. To begin, Looking at your workplace guidelines on work attire is important. My agency is lenient, not having restrictions on footwear or colours, so keep that in mind throughout the post. I’ll provide reference photos (the images aren’t mine).

Beauty

Most corporate occupations have this silent rule that women have to wear makeup. Fortunately, that isn't the case at my place of work. I wear makeup to work because I want to. I like to keep my makeup simple and light.

I don't wear foundation, but I do use concealer for my hyperpigmentation. I apply it under my eyes, on the corners of my mouth and any acne scars. For my brows, I like to keep my natural brow shape, just lightly filling in and brushing them. For blush, I use cream on my cheeks and nose bridge.

I have dark skin, so most brown lip liners aren’t dark enough for me, so I use a combination of black and brown liners paired with a sheer pink gloss. I finish off my makeup, highlighting my nose and cheekbones. I've made it a part of my beauty routine to get my lashes done, and I usually go with a cat hybrid set.

I used to have long, stiletto French nails, but lately, I've been learning the guitar, so I've kept my nails short with red gel polish.

As for hair I almost always have my hair in protective styles most notably cornrows, but when my hair is out of braids I have it in a low bun. I’ve recently bought a kinky straight wig that I’ve cut and customised similarly to the reference photo, and I’m so in love with it.

Basics

From satin blouses to pencil skirts, the basics include all the trusty fashion essentials for the office. Sticking to neutral when working in a corporate workspace is always safe. If you love colours like me, I’d advise you to include coloured pieces such as turtlenecks, blouses or scarves to brighten your outfit.

As for inspiration, I think you can’t go wrong with a matching set. My favourite set is a white waistcoat paired with a long pencil skirt; I also have a similar waistcoat and pants set in grey. I wear slip-on loafers during warmer weather, and during cooler temperatures, I will wear boots and a turtleneck underneath the waistcoat or a trench coat.

Dressing for the Weather

Regarding weather, for winter, you can switch out your summer blouses and linen shirts for high-neck tops, turtlenecks and knit sweater vests to layer. I'm Australian, so our winters can feel much colder. Therefore I usually wear tweed blazers and coats. I own three trench coats for work; one in black, one in beige and the other in white; I rotate between the three.

I suggest having neutral-coloured outerwear so you can reuse and style them with more pieces. I have a stereotypical girly style so I love tweed sets paired with stockings and a nice pair of boots or heels when the weather gets cold.

As for Summer, I like to focus on the fabric of the pieces I own, prioritising breathable and lightweight textures such as; cotton, linen, silk or satin. Pairing my tops with loose-fitted, lightweight pants and silk skirts. You can throw on a blazer when it's feeling a bit cooler. It’s important to learn how to style your body type, I'm a pear shape, so I have wider hips with a smaller upper body and waist. I like showing my figure, so I usually wear fitted high-waisted trousers, shorts and skirts.

Accessories & Essentials

I love my loafers; as previously mentioned, I wear slip-on loafers during warmer weather, but for those who have to wear heels for work, you can never go wrong with a sturdy pair of sling-back heels. I like shopping for my work shoes at Charles and Keith; they are affordable and good quality.

I've recently switched from a shoulder bag to a backpack for my back health; I previously used a Burberry shoulder bag, but I've since switched to an Ecosusi women's vintage backpack in black.

I’m a maximalist to the core although I like to keep my jewellery minimal for work, My staples are some thick gold hoops, my Casio gold watch and my gold cross necklace, which I pair with a few rings and bracelets, that’s all.

Good luck to all my corporate baddies and nine-to-five girlies.

Sincerely,

𝒩adine.

[amagoner]

Santa baby

Price x reader Synopsis: Price comes home and catches you of guard dancing in the living room.

AN: I had this idea last week, but writing is hard y’all. If you’re unfamiliar with the last verse of Santa baby I recommend quickly looking it up.

John sighs while putting his bag down, digging deep in his pant pocket in search of his keys. The last mission wasn’t hard, but it was certainly rough. The fact that it was really bloody cold out and already dark by the time he got back from the airbase was just another annoyance. It was winter after all, he hadn’t expected anything else, though it would have been nice if he had been home yesterday rather than today.

He grunts in frustration, the key in his hand disagreeing with the door and it takes him three whole tries to finally slam it in the keyhole, making sure to jangle the bundle of keys while he swings open the door.

The entry is dark, but he saw the Christmas decoration were lit up when he approached the house and he could hear music coming from the living room. He recognizes the tune immediately, the iconic beat and occasional trumpet unmistakable.

Santa baby

The outfit you had decided to wear was, for a lack of better words, hideous. A pair of brightly coloured woollen socks on your feet, bright red legging with a deer’s ass printed on your backside and the ugly Christmas sweater you had bought John last year, which he stubbornly refused to wear. Truly, a sight to behold as you shake your ass to the beat of the song.

Been an awful good girl

Price decides that he had been granted a great gift and that he wasn’t going to get a second chance at this. So the creeps slowly toward you until he is right behind you. Swiftly he presses his cold face into your neck, shoving his equally cold hand up the front of your sweater.

‘Oh I’ll come down your chimney alright.’ He hums huskily in your ear.

‘JOHN!’ You shriek. All John can do is chuckle as you turn around in his arms throwing yourself around his neck. ‘Why didn’t you warn me you were back?’

‘I did,’ Price retorts. ‘I texted you when we landed.’

You pout, trying to push his ice cold hands out of you sweater. John remains unrelenting. ‘I mean when you came in.’

‘Now where is that fun in that, hm?’ He replies, finally taking pity on you as you squirm beneath his freezing fingers. Instead he cups you face, softly kissing your lips, relishing the taste of Glühwein on them. ‘I missed you, my little Christmas elf.’

‘I missed you too,’ you pause and wink at John. ‘Mr. Claus.’

‘That reminds me,’ John lifts you by the ass, wrapping you legs around his waist. ‘you were going down a list of things you want hm? Let’s check if you’re not on my naughty list first.’

----Later that night---

John stands in front of the Christmas tree, hands deep in the pockets of the sweatpants he changed into. Fingers wrapped around a small box, thumb rubbing the soft fabric absentmindedly. He hums softly to himself.

Santa baby

There was very  little on that list he could get you, but the last one. He very happily got you that gift.

[bowiebond]

Lucas doesn’t really know what to make of Billy Hargrove.

When he first saw him, he thought he was Max’s playboy brother. Some hotshot with an attitude. After the night at the Byers, he thought he was terrifying. A ball of red hot rage with his eyes set on him. Billy Hargrove seemed like a bull, and Lucas was wearing all red.

Now, he’s not sure.

Now, Billy seemed less like a bull and more like a big, wounded dog. Barking and snapping his teeth when aggravated but walking with a heaviness in his shoulders. Dark circles under his eyes and wobbly with his new cane. Max spent most of her time out with Billy walking leisurely, casually, like she didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that he couldn’t keep up like he used to.

Lucas joins them sometimes, only because if he doesn’t, he rarely gets to see Max at all. She’s taken to being his caretaker, even if Billy growls at her to knock it off some days, gritting his teeth around aches and pains.

Lucas gets to hang out with Max alone more when Steve takes up the mantle of keeping Billy company. He seems pretty huffy about it at first, but there’s a strange air around them as time goes by. Like they’re slowly melding into one person, one entity. Much like how Robin and Steve were RobinandSteve these days, joined at the hip, Billy and Steve were becoming BillyandSteve. One was rarely seen without the other.

Lucas was pretty sure Steve was the only one allowed to physically touch Billy when he was off in his own head or out of breath, whether from panic or physical exertion. Max would get her hand chewed off if she tried.

There’s a softer, heavier side to Billy Hargrove these days, and Lucas isn’t sure how to feel about it. There’s a big difference between the scary, looming shadow of Billy from that night at the Byers, or his time possessed, and this wounded, tired version. A Billy that wears cashmere sweaters to cover his scars and stay warm (I hate the fuckin’ winter, he spits once to Max, ignoring Lucas’ presence as per usual, I can’t stand the cold anymore.) and lives alone in an apartment paid for by the government to keep his mouth shut.

Lucas’ lungs burn as he steps off the court. It’s just practice, he’s still sitting on the bench, but he’s working towards getting off it. He’s praying for it.

The click of the cane is what alerts him of his presence. It’s a strangely familiar sound now, one that gets slotted into the Billy Sounds part of his brain, next to the grunt the guy makes that’s almost a laugh but not.

“You’re not half bad, Sinclair. Almost as good at Steve was.” It’s still weird, hearing Billy call Steve by his first name. Harrington had sounded like a taunt, a challenge, now…Steve sounded like a good natured tease. Fond, like he was talking about his favourite song.

Lucas really doesn’t get Billy Hargrove.

“I don’t know if Steve played dirty, but he told us you did, so I don’t think you can judge how good he was.” It’s not a jab so much as a defence on Steve’s behalf. Max loves her brother, a complicated kind of love that hurts some days and feels great others, but Lucas loves Steve.

He loves Max too. It’s the only reason he’s trying to see Billy the way she does.

Billy laughs at his words. In the past, he thinks the man may have scowled or sneered or laughed at him instead of what he said.

“He’s just mad I was better. It’s fine, he can beat me now.” He leaned heavily on his cane with a weary sigh and stares at Lucas a long moment. “Can we talk, Sinclair?”

His expression gives little away and it makes Lucas’ hackles rise subconsciously. He looked down at the basketball in his hands, fidgeting with it as he tossed it back and forth between his palms.

“Can this wait until after I’ve showered or…?” He placed the basketball in the trolley of other balls, wanting to put off the inevitable.

Billy sighed, reaching up to scratch at his brow.

“It’s a bad pain day, honestly, I just wanna sit and get this sorted so I can go back home and kick my feet up before someone hounds me about pushing my limits.” He rolled his eyes and Lucas had a good idea who that someone was.

He wiped his sweaty palms against his shorts and shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.” Billy manages a small smile, but it feels disingenuous with the way he tilts his chin down and turns around with it, hobbling his way over to the benches. Most of everyone had scattered to shower and head home.

Billy made to sit and gave a grunt, seeming to struggle for a moment. Lucas offered his hand out of habit and Billy scowled at it. With his lips tightly pursed and a tinge of sweat on his brow, he glared up at Lucas. Lucas thinned his own lips self consciously, prepared to drop his hand before Billy’s eyes softened and he huffed, clasping Lucas’ hand hard — his palm is clammy, a weird mix of cold sweat and hot skin — and lowering himself against the low bench with a grunt. He rested his cane across his lap and sighed heavily.

He looked worn thin already and it made Lucas feel guilty despite doing nothing wrong. Billy had made the decision to come all the way out here to talk. That wasn’t on Lucas. Billy could make his own decisions, could decide how much his body could take and how far he could go alone before needing a hand. Billy was as tough as nails as far as Max was concerned, even if Steve sometimes spoke of Billy as if he was fragile. Lucas didn’t know who was closer to the truth of it. Maybe they both were.

“Come on, sit, I’m starting to feel self conscious here.” Billy joked with a low chuckle, patting the spot beside him. Lucas took the offer, keeping his limbs closer to his centre. Not wanting to touch Billy. Not wanting to appear bigger than him even if he had been given a significant growth spurt in the past few months.

He didn’t want to appear smaller either thought, so he let himself sit up straight, even with his hands tucked between his bouncing knees.

“So…let’s talk?” Lucas prompted and Billy chuckled once more.

“Shit, where to begin?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his (pinched) brow, the movement subtle.

There was a long silence as Billy thought, and Lucas let him. He felt sticky and gross with sweat, mildly self conscious about how he might smell, but he wasn’t going to push Billy. Not just because he was volatile in the past, but because he looked like he really wanted to say this right. That he wanted Lucas to really hear him.

“…I’m sorry about last year.” Billy said finally and Lucas turned his head so quickly that he heard something in his neck crack.

“What?” Lucas furrowed his brows. “Last year?”

“A few months over a year, but close enough.” Billy shrugged, shifting in his seat to cross his arms over his chest and lay back against the benches above them. It doesn’t look comfortable, but Billy never looks comfortable. “That night. At the Byers place. I’m sorry.”

Lucas stared at him, unable to form a word. He never expected an apology, if he was honest. People rarely apologised to him in general. Especially about bullying or threats.

“Wow. This must be really for you to say. I’ve never heard you say sorry unless you were dying.” It’s snarkier than he wanted it to be and he immediately wants to hurl himself off a bridge for the comment. Billy’s gonna beat his ass with his cane for that.

Billy just laughs.

“You’re such a snarky shit, you’re just like Max.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I mean it though, Sinclair. And I know…I should have should have said something sooner.”

“Why didn’t you then?” Lucas challenged and Billy huffed, looking frustrated.

“Because I didn’t realise back then what I did was wrong.” Billy’s scowl is only deepening and Lucas is prepared to be the one he punches to let out steam. “I don’t know how much Max told you…about my dad.”

Lucas’ stomach churned.

“Not a lot. Just that he…that he wasn’t a good dad.” He can’t look at him when he says it. It just makes him think of Patrick who rocked up to practice with a black eye last week. He hadn’t been able to say anything, voice stuck in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. He wasn’t sure if anything he said would even help. If Hopper were alive…

But he wasn’t. Billy’s revival had been a miracle in itself.

“Understatement of the year.” Billy huffed a soft, bitter laugh. He licked his dry lips and continued. “That night…He smacked me around because Max disappeared. And I knew, I knew you and your friends had something to do with it. I was angry, I was looking for a fight, kid. And you…you were an easy target.” Billy admitted, a thousand yard stare in his blue eyes.

“Cause I was black, right?” Billy huffed out though his nose and half nodded his head to the side, as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

“It was a lotta things, Sinclair. Partially, yeah, cause you were black. My dads never favoured your ‘kind’. Nothing visceral, just underhanded comments. Casual, normal.” He rolled his eyes and Lucas’ stomach squirmed. “I had friends of all different races, Sinclair, growing up. It was California. But I knew not to bring them home unlike Max. By the time I was your age, I avoided them all together to save my ass trouble.” He sucked on his teeth, like he was annoyed at his younger selves cowardice.

“I had a friend, anxious guy who really mellowed out after a little weed. So smart but so strange in how he applied it. He knew all kinds of tips and tricks…” His expression softened into something almost sad. “He was the closest thing to an actual friend I ever had. But he was Hispanic. I never let him near my house, and at fifteen…I dropped him. Because my dad found out, and threatened to blow his head off his shoulders because he thought I was in love with him. A dirty Mexican who was stealing peoples jobs.” Billy scoffed and shook his head. Lucas tried not to visibly wince.

“So yeah. I did target you for being black. For being different. Because my dad doesn’t like different, and I grew to accept the same.” Billy shrugged. “I didn’t know any better back then, but I still did it. And it was shitty of me. You didn’t deserve that, you were a kid.” Lucas’s heart clenched, constricting tightly in his chest. He wasn’t going to cry, but he could feel the burn in the back of his eyes.

“Thanks.” Was all he could say, picking at his nails.

“And I…I was scared for Max when you kept getting so close to her, if I’m honest.”

“Scared? For Max?” Lucas furrowed his brows in confusion before huffing with a small scowl, looking away. “Let me guess, you assumed because I’m black, I’m aggressive, right? A hoodlum?”

“Surprisingly, that wasn’t why.” Billy chuckled, sardonic and rumbling low in his throat. “You know how my dads a dick?”

“Yeah…?”

Billy grinned but there was no humour in it.

“Whenever Max came back to me after talking to you, she was either upset or being secretive.” Billy reached for his pocket like he wanted a cigarette but he had been forced to quit and he looked annoyed by coming up empty handed, clicking his tongue.

“I learned pretty young, Sinclair, that boys who make girls upset, one day turn into men who will hurt those girls who have become women.” Billy turned his gaze to Lucas, his expression like steel. “You were my target that night because Max cared about you. I wanted you to stay away from her not just because you were black, but because Max, no matter how angry, can’t hurt someone she loves. And I thought, she might not fight back if you hurt her one day.” He was staring into Lucas’ very soul, the rims of his eyes growing pink as tears threatened to dampen his fierce gaze.

“I let her keep seeing you because she proved she could handle herself. But if I ever see her with a single bruise, ‘you’re dead’ won’t just be a phrase. It’ll be a promise.”

“I would never hurt Max.” Lucas can say it with intention, with purpose, because it’s true. There wasn’t a cruel bone in his body. He’d rather die than put a hand on Max. He loved her, and he wanted to make her happy, like how his father made his mother happy. He wanted Max to never want for anything. That much he knew.

“…I know.” Billy finally looked away, looking like he regretted even threatening the possibility. After a long moment of staring into nothing, Billy spoke once more.

“Max likes you. And…so does Steve. I didn’t wanna keep tip toeing around everything that happened between us. So I’m sorry. I…hope we can start fresh. Or keep doing whatever we’re doing to appease the people we care about.”

He offered Lucas his hand, an extension of — what? Friendship? Appeasement? New beginnings?

Lucas glanced at Billy, and all he saw on his face was exhaustion. He looked so much older than he was. But beneath the weariness was a sparkle of something. Like Billy truly meant this gesture, this fresh beginning, instead of feeling obliged.

Billy had to mean it, right? He wouldn’t have driven here just to talk to him, to apologise, on a bad pain day if it hadn’t been on his mind, guilt likely eating away at his inside every time he thought about their strained relationship.

Lucas hesitantly took his hand and shook it. It was still clammy and gross but Lucas smiled and Billy responded with his own lopsided one that was almost a smirk.

“Lucas Sinclair. And you are?” He offered and Billy laughed.

“Billy Hargrove. Does this mean I have to gatekeep my sister from you like a real brother now, or…?” His eyes crinkled at his own tease and Lucas laughed nervously.

“Please don’t?”

Billy only laughed again, slightly strained around the edges with his weak lungs, but it made Lucas’ muscles slowly relax. Tension seeping out of him.

For the first time, in a room with Billy Hargrove, he didn’t feel anxious.

He still didn’t understand him. Not really. He can’t put the words Steve and Max have used to describe him onto the blond, but he’s sure with time, Lucas will find his own descriptors.

Billy accepts his hand when he goes to stand, cane handling most of his weight, and Lucas feels weirdly younger than he is when he waves him goodbye.

Guys are piling out of the showers and Lucas turns to look at them, his eyes finding Patrick with ease. His bruise has mostly faded but it still twists Lucas’ gut to see.

“Hey, Patrick!” The older boy turns to look at him with surprise. Lucas wiped his sweaty palms of his shorts discreetly.

“If you’re not busy, I thought maybe we could go hang out at the arcade…mind waiting five for me to shower?” Patrick still looks vaguely surprised but then a smile curls on his lips and there’s a flash of teeth that makes Lucas’ heart leap with hope.

“Sure, little man. Sounds good.” Lucas beams and is quick to get going.

He’s not sure how he can help Patrick. But maybe just being there as an open ear might be enough for now.

[husbandhannie]

the blue

pairing: woozi x reader

word count: 760

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: i like my scarf, but it was a pain choosing it.

taglist: @leejungchans @junhui-recs @itsveronicaxxx.

“i’m sorry i’m taking so long”

jihoon looks up at your words, averting his eyes from the orange cap he had been eyeing for a few moments. 

jihoon doesn’t like shopping. neither do you, really – but you’ve been forced to undertake this ordeal because of the state of your winter clothes (and maybe because your mother seemed genuinely horrified at their not-so-great condition). when you told your boyfriend you were planning on going shopping to replenish clothes for the coming winter, you didn’t expect him to offer to come along. you had tried to tell him that he didn’t have to, but that only made him more insistent. i know i don’t have to, he had said, i want to. 

that shut down any efforts on your part to stop him from going on an excursion he might not enjoy. jihoon doesn’t explicitly express his feelings towards you often (he’s not much different from you in that regard), so it always catches you off-guard when he’s direct – a fact you have a suspicion he knows.

that brings you to the present; jihoon waiting patiently in the accessories isle of the rather gigantic clothing store while you try to pick out a scarf, having managed to narrow it down to a beige-patterned one and a dark blue one, both with similar material and prices. you’ve tried each of them about four times now, and even you’re getting impatient with yourself. 

jihoon, on the other hand, has said nothing about your indecisiveness, patiently responding to the list of pros-and-cons you had drawn for each scarf. he’s been almost saintly patient today, only showing any frustration when you tried carrying the shopping basket. i don’t have much to say about sweaters, he had said, pulling the basket from your hands, the least i can do is carry the clothes.

“don’t worry about it”, he responds, giving you a gentle smile, “i know you think about these things, it’s okay. i don’t mind”. 

oh, how you wish you could kiss this man. right here, right now.

“i do like to think about it, but”, you pause, picking up the beige scarf, “i’m tired, and i can’t think anymore. i’ll just take this, it goes with everything i have”.

“are you sure?”, he frowns, holding out the basket so you can drop the scarf in, “you like the other color better”.

“i do”, you nudge him along to the direction of billing counters, “but this one is more versatile. and i’m hungry”, you smile at his chuckle, “so this will do”.

[...]

“only i would buy a scarf and forget to wear it the very next day”, you snort, snuggling into your jacket in the hopes that it covers your neck. it doesn’t.

after coming home from the shopping trip, you had discarded the untouched bag in a corner of the room and started working on your assignment, only stopping to order dinner. you had forgotten about the new clothes until a few minutes ago, when you met jihoon outside his studio for a walk in the slightly chilly november night. the slight pain in your ears reminded you that you had also forgotten to buy a cap on the trip. 

“yeah, about that”, jihoon pauses in his step, and you turn around to see him rummage through his bag, “here”.

he pulls out a blue fabric, shaking it open from its folded state. it’s the scarf from yesterday, you realize, the one you didn’t end up buying. jihoon steps forward and places it gently on your shoulder, moving it so that it won’t fall when he lets go. your hands instinctively clutch the fabric when a gust of wind blows, and you tilt your head into its warmth.

“you’re supposed to wear it, you know”, he says, unzipped bag still in his hand, “you’ll get sick”.

“when did you get this?”, you ask, already tying it around your neck.

“went back for it this morning”, he answers casually, and you wonder if the red on his ears is due to the cold, “you really liked it, so i thought – “

he pauses, and your heart almost beats out of your chest – the chest safe and warm under the scarf.

“thank you”, you murmur shyly, before pulling him in for a kiss, only pulling away when the wind on your ear makes you shiver. 

“wait, i almost forgot”, he steps back and his fingers dive into the bag again, this time pulling out an orange cap, “i thought this might go well with the blue”.

[caffiend-queen]

Masterlist: Caffiend’s Spooky As Fuck Halloween Recommendation Masterlist

Thirty-one days of Halloween horrors (and whores, I’m looking at you, Ransom!) completed! Please show our Tumblr besties the love they deserve for their hard work!

I’m gathering all my favorite spooky, sexy Halloween reads from my favorite authors here on Tumblr and AO3. All the really genius ones! In one super tasty bundle. Who loves you? Who’s your spooky Mama? Read on for Dark Loki, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Vampire!Loki, Cult Leader Steve Rogers, Incubus!Loki, the Winter Soldier and more.

1. Rapacity - Vampire Loki

@nildespirandum‘s genius Vampire Loki tale, sexy, scary, angsty as fuck.

2.  Danse Macabre - Scary Prophet Bucky Barnes

@imanuglywombat’s terrifying and sexy Bucky and he’s not wearing anything under that robe...

3.  Run Like Hell - relentless Winter Soldier

@navybrat817′s terrifying and sexy Winter Soldier tell you to run. DO IT.

4.  Come One, Come All. - Dark, terrifying Loki

@lokislastlove sexy, terrifying Funhouse Loki, but it’s not fun for anyone IN his Funhouse. Except for you.

5. Proserpina - Dark, Old God Steve Rogers

@boxofbonesfic and a terrifying descent into an underground prison.

6. Glory, Amen - Old One Steve Rogers

@punemy-spotted and another terrifying descent into Old Ones best forgotten.

7. Destiny - Dark, Sexy, Sadistic Loki

@mdemontespan1667′s sexy, scary Loki. And spiders.

8. 30 Days of Debauchery - kinky sexy as fuck Lokl

@myoxisbroken’s excellent “kink a day” masterpiece

9. Rose Red All Hallow’s Eve - gritty Curtis Everett

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s scary-ass ride with Curtis Everett.

10.  A Hex of Infinite Binding - Incubus Loki

@nildespirandum’s sexy as fuck Incubus Loki. In black. Leather. Pants.

11. One, or the Other -  Sir Thomas Sharpe and Vampire Adam, OLLA

@caffiend-queen’s filthy musing of one or both of these men impregnating you.

12. Silver Exposure - Dystopian Avengers featuring Pitch Black Steve and Charcoal Grey Bucky.

@xsapphirescrollsx and her terrifying and extremely vivid tale of what happens when you fuck with time travel.

13. One Fateful Christmas - Andy Barber wants you and He Is Deeply Displeased. Also, a blizzard.

@americasass81 and her jolly little Christmas nightmare (dream come true depending on your point of view.)

14. Made For Me - Spine-tingling terror when you realize the life you planned was not the one you were going to get. Mitigating factor: lots of sex with Bucky.

@saiyanprincessswanie’s tasty, terrifying tale.

15. Honey Trap - Sweet, sexy beekeeper Steve Rogers isn’t the sweet guy everything in your little town thinks he is...

@threeminutesoflife’s dark and deliciously twisted Steve. And a toaster.

16. A Summoning From The Depths - An Incubus!Loki Story

@nildespirandum’s Kinktober offering for Incubus!Loki and Witch Nora. With bonus cloven hooves goodness.

17. Dark Commander - Scary-ass Hydra Captain America

@jtargaryen18′s brilliant tale of who Hydra’s vision of Captain America would be

18.  I Dream at Night I Can Only See Your Face Roomate!Bucky Barnes

@thedarkplume’s dark, tasty tale of cupcakes and unrequited love. Be careful what you ask for...

19. Next Station - dark, ruthless Loki

@the-soulofdevil  a different retelling of what should have happened with Loki on Lamentis.

20. Monstrous - deranged Vampire Loki

@maiden-of-asgard’s terrifying, half-mad Vampire Loki and the Light Elf imprisoned with him.

21.  Can’t Run, Can’t Hide - terrifying Mafia!Bucky

@angrythingstarlight’s dark and sexy tale of what happens when you think you can leave Mafia Bucky.

22.  Concrete Jungle Rapunzel - insidious, dark Bucky

@imanuglywombat’s stark, heartbreaking tale of what it’s like to be loved too much.

23. Landlocked - Dark Andy Barber and a Selkie

@tonarinotogepi’s tale of what happens when Dark Andy Barber captures a Selkie

24,  To Love and To Hold - Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sweet wife

@sagechanoafterdark How long can you be married to a monster like Lee Bodecker before his evil sinks into you?

25.  Scare Tactics - Delicious Chris Evans distracting you.

Chris Evans, you, a spooky movie and his spectacular sexytime skills, courtesy of @jennmurawski13

26. Wilfords Demands and other Darkish!Curtis fics

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s sexy, scary tales of Gladiator, Impregnator Curtis Everett.

27. The Cult - Cult Leader Steve and too-trusting Bucky

@queenoftheworldisdead’s spooky tale of Cult Leader Steve wanting something Bucky has... his new wife.

28.  Murder, He Wrote - sinister as fuck Ransom Drysdale

@what-is-your-plan-today’s terrifying tale of a celebrity haunted mansion and the reporter sent to cover it.

29. Perfection - emotionally torn and hot as balls Sir William Sharpe

@nildespirandum’s epic tale of pain, longing, loss, genuine terror and the power of love.

30. Wet - shamelessly delicious Jonathan Pine

@devikafernando​’s decisive and shameless Jonathan Pine knows exactly how to get you wet. 

31. Pain - pitch black Loki

Minnie Rose shows just how angry Loki can be after escaping the clutches of Thanos. And you’re right there to lavish the wildly complicated upon your helpless body.

[applesafterlife]

HELLOOOO! This is Lampkeeper! And welcome to my corner of the universe~!

Lil bio:

Name: Atticus / Lee

Gender: three feral rats with rabies in a trenchcoat

Pronouns: any!! I don't care!!

Lamps: 100000003067 lamps

Sexual orientation: asexual

Romantic orientation: aromantic + homoro-oriented (gay asf)

Likes: Fandoms (preferably small fandoms), food (specifically chicken nuggets), sleeping, lamps, goobers, cats, salmon, winter, dragons (will ramble for hours), b r e a d, sweaters!!!

Dislikes: Loud noises, excited dogs, pollen (is allergic), mosquitos (VERY allergic), strong spices, lots of clothes, summer.

Special interests: Dragons, cats, I Expect You To Die, Portal, The Stanley Parable, Rise of the TMNT, Megamind (somehow), science in general.

Kinned characters: Donnie (ROTTMNT), The Narrator (TSP), Wheatley (Portal 2), Pheonix (IEYTD), Megamind (c'mon, you know this one), William Afton (FNAF- don't ask.), The Spot (Spider-man ATSV)

Physical features: Long-ish dark brown hair, tanish skin despite rarely going outside, brown eyes, 5 feet 6 inches tall, often wears casual clothing but wears a skirt on Sunday, depending on who he's with, he almost never smiles.

Notes: Was never tested for autism or ADHD, but has a strong belief he has both (with research to back him up). Staying with the label neurotypical until the belief is strong enough to self-diagnose. DEFINITELY has anxiety. Might also be dyslexic- constantly misreads words. Is also a therian + otherkin; cat therian + duck therian (WILL meow and WILL purr, don't blame him) + dragon otherkin (WILL roar and WILL hiss). Has an odd belief he's not human.

!! THIS USER IS A SYSTEM !!

Will there be a "meet the artist" drawing soon? Yes, yes there will be. Will I draw myself accurate to my IRL self? Yes. Yes I will. Will I also draw my little alien persona? Yes. In several ways. Will I draw my fursona and his two halves? Absolutely.

For Roleplay under the cut!! vvvv

Blue text is for when Agent Felix talks

Purple text is for when Lampkeeper talks

Classic text is when I/The Narrator am speaking

Red text for Dr. Zor, Orange text for Hivemind, Yellow text for Charlie Caliente, Green text for John Juniper.

These all take place in the IEYTD universe.

Felix lore:

Agent Felix joined Zoraxis's team when he was just a little kid, probably about third grade. If he went to school, lol, which he didn't.

He just wandered around a town all day, doing whatever he could to learn. Zor found him- Zor was about mid-thirties at the time- and just straight up adopted Felix. Zor gave Felix lessons on basic stuff like reading, math, etc., basically just all the elementary school stuff- except it only took 2 years. Zor, obviously, was surprised so he gave Felix some options and Felix chose technology.

Zor gave him everything he could to Felix on the subject, and by age 12, Felix had the technology expertise as a mad scientist. Felix started doodling after Zor adopted him, the doodles being very happy in general. Over time, they got.. concerning.. and Zor didn't know what to do about that.

Eventually, as more people joined Zoraxis, the more Felix was left alone with his little inventions. Occasionally, Zor, Hivemind and Charlie visited him (and were the only ones that celebrated his birthday), rarely Solaris for business. Felix loved Hivemind and Charlie like family.

The death engine was built when Felix was thirteen years old, him being oblivious to what he and Solaris were building. Agent Pheonix had seen him during Operation: Seat of Power, and recognized him as a kid.

When the death engine fired for the first time, Felix was devastated. Maybe a bit traumatized. He hated himself for being so oblivious to what he built. He didn't talk, eat or anything for days, even after he heard that Agent Pheonix had stopped the Death Engine. In fact, Felix felt worse becuase people had died.

Pheonix came back after a day or two of recovery and brought Felix to the agency. The agency convinced Felix to join (hesitantly) and almost gave up after ten minutes until Felix finally said one word: "okay". His mental recovery lasted 2 weeks, his fourteenth birthday two days after. His drawings started returning to a happier-looking state during the time. Felix waited a month and a half for agent training to begin, and when it did, it was too slow to match his learning pace. Regardless, he did what he was told without complaint. ...until they gave him a bomb to diffuse.

They knew perfectly well he couldn't diffuse bombs. They gave him one anyways. He had to run to other agents to find someone who could diffuse bombs. Felix was trying to figure out for days why they gave him a bomb. No clear answer was found.

Felix often has regrets leaving Zoraxis, since he misses everyone and he misses being useful. Usually he just looks at his shirt and he no longer has regrets, but recently it hasn't been working. He has a lot of conflicting emotions. He tries to stop the regrets by telling him stuff like "it feels great to be good" (as you know) and stuff like that. They've been working, but not much. The agency is constantly worried he'll switch sides again, but they don't know what to do about it since they don't want to get near him.

Felix doesn't know it, but Zor, Hivemind and Charlie miss him. Zor has had his eyes on Felix since he left and has been hoping he'd come back. The whole John Juniper thing was half-planned in hopes Felix would be sent on a mission. (I'm listening to This Is What Autumn Feels Like right now and it's throwing ideas like this at me ashgdhwhdhend)

Then Felix gets kidnapped, he runs away, you know the drill if you were reading/involved in it. He came back worse than before, almost back to his old state after the death engine. His memory was a little more messed up and he has major trust issues.

The end :]

[withacapitalp]

Hi Liam! I don't feel like doing work so close to the holidays, so please enjoy this half-baked thought I wasted 10 minutes finding a gif for.

So many fics have Eddie wearing Steve's Yellow Sweater™, yet nothing with dressing him up like S1 Assistant Youth Pastor Steve. Please use the space below for a prompt or a rant or anything else you fancy ...

Oh no you don't even know what you've done here. Okay costuming is one of my all time favorite things, so I'm going to talk too much about subtle stuff (fair warning this is just me having fun so if it's at all inaccurate or not true, well I'm just a guy who likes a show too much LMAO)

Okay so let's start with season one. Steve dresses exactly liek you said like an assistant youth pastor lmao but it's also just like very showing of who he's trying to be there

First of all his hair is way more stylized in this season than any other. We talk about Steve's hair so much, but here in this season it's so obvious that he's trying to be someone specific instead of just who he is. He's also always wearing a collared shirt and a very dark jacket, and the costumers have said that they use darker colors for darker moments/feelings, so he's wearing this exact jacket when he destroys Jonathan's camera AND when he and Jonathan have their fight

Really the first time we see him without his collar or his dark feelings jacket is when he goes to save Nancy and Jonathan

He's laying himself more bare and he's let go of the chain jerking him around (his terrible friends and their opinions.

Okay so season two is also really interesting one because Steve's hair is parted the other way now (literally changing sides), but specifically because of Steve's jacket. Yes I know I talked about the jacket being a signifier of Steve's darkness before, but in this season it's different

This is right after the bathroom conversation between him and Nancy. This is him trying to convince her to stay with him, and feeling rejected, and not understanding how he can fix something he didn't even realize was broken. His jacket is zippered up

But when he's walking with Dustin, it's back to being open. Okay I can hear you saying to yourself 'Liam this is a wild leap to take' except is it??? Bc it isn't and I can tell you why

HIS JACKET IS ZIPPED UP WHEN THEY START THIS WALK. But as they keep walking he opens up to Dustin and the kids. His jacket stays open for the rest of the season, even when it's the middle of the night and probably way colder and it would make a lot more sense for him to zip up his jacket? Is this actually a thing that matters? No probably not to anyone else but I like symbolism and I search it out like a little squirrel looking for nuts to store for winter

Also here is where I mention something important. Steve is a social chameleon. He's learned/was taught that the best way to get people to like him is to be like them. That's why he was so easily ranked in with the popular kids, even when it's clear that he didn't really like it all that much given how fast he flips. He also dresses a lot like Tommy in S1, and then in S2 we see him start to develop his own style once he's broken up with Nancy. But even in developing that own style, he's still a social chameleon. He's still going to try and look like the people he wants to have in his circle

Which brings me to the very first sweater we ever see Steve in

LOOK AT THAT COLOR AND LOOK AT THE COLOR OF DUSTINS HOODIE ABOVE Same exact color!!! Now I'm not saying this is anyyyyything conscious. Steve isn't looking at his closet and being like yes I will choose this because Dustin wore this color and I know he likes it, but I am saying we have literally never seen Steve in any shade of red before this moment.

Now season three. I know he was in his Scoops Ahoy Uniform for most of it (thank the gods for those shorts) so I'm not gonna talk too much about that but I am going to talk about that last final outfit as another example of chameleon Steve

This is actually a two fold example of Chameleon Steve. First of all he's dressed pretty much just like Marty McFly the character from Back to the Future which is the movie he and Robin ran into after the Russians. Second of all he's matching her too. Dark blue, Dark blue, White accents, White Accents. Just like Dustin he chooses colors that are similar to the people he likes. We're also once again seeing him start to open up color wise (first time we see him in yellow).

Now Season four. Well Season four we see him getting stripped bare (quite literally) for a good portion of the season. Obviously we have the battle vest and I love that, but I want to talk about Steve's jacket again and one particular outfit that I think sums up growth for Steve in a lot of ways while also showing some other stuff

His Dear Billy outfit.

This outfit is incredibly similar to the one he wore back in s2 when he first protected all of the kids. Light grey outer jacket, inside darker shirt, but he's wearing a collar again. TLDR he's back to trying to button up, back to something familiar that will 'keep him safe', but also a jacket and a color that he would associate with 'protecting the kids'

Anyway that was a very very long talk, but Steve's progression of outfits and the way he dresses himself is very interesting to me, and like I said if there's even a hint of symbolism I'm there

[dreamtydraw]

One More Free Character Ramble Ask here for you! Free for you to spend whenever you feel like it hehe

much love !

-💚

Well hello hello darling, i'll use my special card to make a new design analysis for one of my OL oc :

Darcie Second 🍁

Starting off with basic needed infos : Darcie was build around Valentin as a sort of opposite yet similar character. Their duality is shown in their personality, color palette and evolution. Therefore if you haven't read my Valentin design explanation i advise you to read it first here before continuing with this one.

Darcie’s name was chosen for it’s meaning « dark haired » « from the dark ». Darcie is someone who lives in the shadow of other people, rarely looked upon you can almost forget she's here. Her name is also a reference to Mr. Darcy from pride and pejudice, who despise seeming rude is actually a shy character of heart who find it hard to converse with others.

Cerise is summer, Valentin is winter but Darcie is... The changing of seasons. Starting with winter palette, turning into fall and then spring ( their step 4 will surely be themed around summer but i can't confirm it surely until the game is out )

Another commom but slightly changed theme is fruits : Darcie is a vegetable, more precisely Onions ( sweet onions and red onions ), she has a lot of layers.

Darcie is Valentin's twin but is identifiable by some specific details: her tooth gap and multiple moles that she has way more than her sibling. Those are details that make her special but that she feels self-conscious about. Do you find it cute? She'll think you're making fun of her because in her eyes it's not.

Another subtle facial difference is her blue eyes. Where Valentin stands out with their heterochromia, Darcie's eyes look quite simple, another negative detail that goes on the list that differentiates the twins.

Step 1

At some point in childhood, the twins decide to have a very distinct way to tell them apart and it’s by a haircut. Darcie chose to have her hair short because her sibling convinced her she would look really cool like that.

She’s from a snowy region, her palette is cold but tinted with some warm because of the color purple. Purple is Darcie’s favorite color, wearing it and having a trinket of that color makes her a bit happy. The color is also similar to the blue pastel of Valentin, making them different yet very close. Their outfit composition I also very similar with the big sweater and white bottom

Passionate about scientific books and animals, the young girl owns a cat-shaped hat to keep her head warm since her hair is short, and also a little bag, to put trinkets in it.

Step 2

Darcie is not a confident person so she tries to look like people who are, for example, her sibling. Her step 2 design is close to Valentin’s step 1 design, mainly the pigtails and new piercings. Sadly you can catch her lack of confidence with that choice: Valentin wears high pigtails that stand out, and Darcie’s pigtails are downs.

Her color palette warms up drastically, and she has taken her marks in Golden Grove. She kept some touch of purple but overall she bland perfectly in the warm trees of the town, she’s practically invisible. The only trace of winter color is her blue shorts, but even those are almost unnoticeable when you look at them.

Her cat hat got swapped for a necklace because it was judged too childish, and her old blue bag got traded for a new brown one, surely broken with time.

Step 2 Darcie is content with being part of the decor, but deep down she wants to be her own person and be more like what her siblings used to be.

Step 3

Step 3 is the more confident Darcie has ever been about herself. Angsty teen years pass and she grew to love herself with the support of her family and friend which resulted in a newfound physical appearance.

She dyed her hair lighter, putting a definitive separation between her and her sibling and marking her individuality. The warm color approaches the purple she likes so much and she wears more girly, pretty, and croquettes clothes borrowed from her sibling.

She got a new set of piercing and bought little cat shaped one because simply, she liked them.

Darcie has a more bright palette to contrast with her sibling and both of them form a sort of duo of little swans ( black and white ) or ugly ducklings who grew to love themselves before all.

I don't know yet how I will approach her story, this will depend on the main storyline of will approach, but I am really happy to develop her more! Thanks you for readings love!