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moriartyluver · 2 years ago

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FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER VII

EVENTUALLY THE PERFECT opportunity managed to befall both William and (name) in their ploy to catch Ashfordshire and have him brought to justice. Even if it was evil, it was a necessary evil. Who knew who else would be killed and stuffed like a doll after Mary?

A ball was to be hosted sooner or later to mark the beginning of the spring season which was soon to come. This was a nightmarish miracle to both William and (name) who had been waiting to meet Lord Ashfordshire for the past month that they had been planning his downfall together.

Their target was known to only occasionally appear in high society and as if by chance, Ashfordshire had decided on attending this particular ball and the two had been informed that this was because he held a mutual interest in (name), except for different reasons.

As of now, (name) had finished the lengthy procedure required to get ready for the ball, suffocating herself in petticoats and a whalebone corset, and was now finally at the ball, waiting by the side for either Ashfordshire or William to appear.

She wandered around the hall, looking for at least one familiar face in the sea of people she didn't really care to converse with at all. (Name) would shift from two states, looking for someone to talk to them stand by the side and swirl her wine around in her glass, which she had yet to drink.

As she continued to pace around the hall, waiting to spot Ashfordshire somewhere in the strange hall, she felt herself bump into someone. Immediately she shifted her irritated expression to one of a clumsy young lady.

"I'm terribly sorry, please forgive me if I have ruined-" she raised her head to see a familiar pair of green eyes looking down at her with a soft expression. "Lord Albert?"

"You need not apologise, Lady (name)," Albert smiled kindly "my clothes are perfectly intact and I have not been harmed. You on the other hand-"

He gestured to a small stain of wine on the front of her dress. Thankfully, it was white wine and didn't stain the dress too much but of course, it was still a stain. Albert reached over to his breast pocket to pull out his handkerchief to hand to young woman but was beat to it by the appearance of his younger brother.

"Lady (name)," William smiled as he held out his embroidered handkerchief to her. Albert put his own away with a smirk at his brother's attitude. This would be something new to tease him for later.

(Name) took the napkin with a raised eyebrow then wiped down the front of her dress as William spoke.

"Im glad to see you've arrived as planned," he said, his implication of the situation clear. He leaned forwards to whisper into her ear, uncaring of any potentially scandalous behaviour he was exhibiting. "Unfortunately, he is later than we anticipated."

As (name) opened her mouth to speak, the music had suddenly changed and grew slower than the previous melody. Albert was taken away by a small group of noble ladies, all eager to dance with him. "I suppose I shall just wait then."

"Or, you could accept my request to dance whilst we wait?" William held out his hand, waiting for (name) to take it patiently, hoping she would accept his humble request to dance with such a fine noble lady

(Name) scoffed, then raised her gloved hand to her face as she laughed. "And why in God's name would I do such a thing?"

A smirk made its way onto William's pink lips "Why? Are you afraid I may be a better dancer than you?" He said, attempting to get a rise out of her, which proved to be successful.

The (hair colour)-ette placed her hand in his. "You have convinced me, my Lord. I accept but you must know that I am more likely the more experienced dancer, so as a result I will probably be better"

As the song played by the band towards the front of the hall began to grow louder, William guided (name) to dance the waltz with him amongst the other dance pairs. Out of the corner of his scarlet eyes, he could see Ashfordshire watching them by the side. He seemed to have arrived only moments before.

"Once you capture his interest, how do you plan on approaching him with the topic of an invitation?" William asked (name) in a hushed whisper whilst he held onto her waist.

(Name) moved along to rhythm of the harmonic instruments with her dance partner. "Ashfordshire, from what I've heard, is quite the foolish man. I wouldn't be surprised if he invited me to his manor immediately after meeting me. I may have to give the impression of having a romantic interest in him to make him reveal his true colours."

William's grip on (name)'s waist tightened as he pulled her closer to him "I see." He said in response. "But once you have him where you want him, you'd like me to send subordinates as backup just in case anything does not go to plan?"

"Correct," (name) smiled "Although I do doubt I will need them. You said they were good at combat, didn't you?"

The blond nodded "They are, but I still believe I should be there along with you, my darling (name)"

"If you really insist, but all I need is to get in that basement with him and create a diversion," (name) said as William twirled her around "and stop with the pet names, I do not belong to you nor am I dear to you."

"You would be perfect to join us, sweetheart," he said, completely ignoring her previous remark. "Would you not agree you'd be able to work well along side me, my lady?"

(Name) smirked as she 'accidentally' stepped on William's foot. "Oh, my apologies, my Lord!" She said with faux innocence

The male winced and paused for a moment then gave (name) a subtle glare before smiling and dancing with her once again. "It's no trouble, Lady (name)." His voice quieted to a hushed whisper "it appears all the men who you've danced with may have only been a figment of your imagination. I cant imagine you would be so clumsy with a mere waltz if you easily find yourself stepping on my feet."

(Name) chuckled darkly as she returned the malicious energy "I doubt you've had many female partners yourself, in both dancing and other aspects." She mocked

"Ah, you are right there, dear." William chuckled "but that doesn't mean I'm not as skilled in both dancing..and those other aspects you speak of."

As William twirled the lady around once more, (name) spotted Lord Edward Ashfordshire sipping wine alone by the side. Her eyes widened as she watched him. He wasn't as old or ugly as she expected but every time she looks at his visage closely, she could see his face melting into the devil's.

"Ashfordshire! He's here..!" (Name) whispered into William's ear as they continued dancing. "I need to speak to him whilst I have the chance-"

"Would it not be best for you to wait till the dance is over, Lady (name)? You may appear to desperate-" William was cut off by (name) escaping his grasp and walking over to Ashfordshire , leaving William to return to his brothers.

She felt nervous talking to a man she knew was capable of such disturbing acts as Josephine had described to her but as the sly woman she was, (name) covered up that fear with a friendly personality and spoke to Lord Ashforshire till the end of the ball in an attempt to befriend him so the plan would go through, and as if by strange miracle, by the end of the ball, Ashfordshire had told (name) he wished to see her again, and he invited her to dinner, much to her distaste but as she told herself, what must be done for Josephine's sake would be done.

The following week, (name) had arrived along with Josephine at the Moriarty manor to review the plan with William before she was to go to dinner with Ashfordshire. She had left the girl in the company of Louis, as if she were a mother dropping her daughter off at daycare, whilst she was introduced to William's subordinates.

As she entered, (name) saw two black haired males. A young boy, about Josephine's age, wearing a blue scarf around his neck and with a small frame. The other was a tall man, older than both William and (name), and likely older than Albert, with a black mess of hair on his head and a muscular physique. William was sat on a sofa chair, sipping a cup of tea.

"Lady (name), meet Colonel Sebastian Moran and Fred porlock," he said, gesturing to his subordinates. "You shall be working together for this mission. Please do sit down."

(Name) nodded and sat down beside him, nodding to the two with a polite smile. "Its a pleasure to meet you. I have heard of your skill from Lord William, I hope to be able to match that skill. I am in your care." She said, bowing her head then raising it once more to face.

The smaller boy remained silent but nodded in return while moran responded "Likewise" in a gruff voice.

"You do recall the entire plan, don't you? And you do remember the signal for potential danger, don't you?" William asked as (name) nodded. She had memorised the entire plan, word for word but what was even more skilled was that she had independently come up with a plan for any potential situation. Of course, planning was always important but any true schemer knew how important adaptability was.

"What do you take me for? Of course I do," she sipped on the her tea "if Ashfordshire tries anything, he'll die a quicker death than he deserves."

William narrowed his scarlet eyes then placed his cup down suddenly as he appeared to be deep in thought. (Name) looked at him curiously.

"Are you alri-"

"I'm coming with you," William said darkly. "You must not refuse. This isn't an offer, it's a command."

(Name) wanted to protest but couldn't bring herself to even return a "I don't take orders from you" to the man. She knew how high he held justice, he probably wanted Ashfordshire just as dead as she did, so who was she to deny that? She gave a simple nod.

It appears there had been a change of plan.

William and (name) both arrived together to Ashfordshire's estate, which had this horrific aura surrounding it, where they were brought in by a young looking maid. If they weren't successful, chances are she would probably be another victim.

Once they entered the dining hall to have their meal with the Lord, it was evident to both of them that he was not expected William, and even more evident that he disliked the man instantly, however, the dark haired man managed to keep a mildly gentlemanly facade up during the dinner.

"May I be excused to go powder my nose?" (name) eventually said. Instead of going to the bathroom though, this was the signal she had given to set the stage for the beginning of their plan.

Ashfordshire's amber eyes landed on the lady and nodded, telling one of the maids to give the woman directions.

(Name) was supposed to go to the west wing of the mansion to the nearest lavatory, but once the maid had left her alone, she quickly made her way to the opposite end of the estate, eventually finding the second entrance to the basement. She quickly picked the lock and managed to reach the trap door to give three knock, signaling she was there to Fred who was above the other side, ready to swoop in just in case (name) found herself in a difficult situation.

As soon as she had entered the basement however, her confident demeanour was washed away and replaced with fear. The large room was decorated by corpses, each of them dropping around like dolls. The stench of rotting flesh had penetrated (name)'s nostrils as she looked around further.

Meanwhile, Ashfordshire had excused himself from the awkward silence with William who had tried to attempt to engage in conversation despite feeling like he was about to hit the older man any minute. He had been overly chummy with (name) the entire hour she had been sat at the table with them and clearly ogling at her enough to make her uncomfortable. Even if they weren’t planning anything, he couldn’t blame her for leaving.

Phase two had begun.

A/N: I’m super sorry this was rushed but I was busy with my birthday celebration stuff and had to finish this quickly before getting my cake cut 😭 anyways enjoy bc next chapter we’re gonna get batshit crazy liam.

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #mtp william #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuumori x reader #—false lovers 💋

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shoppingonlineltd-blog · 1 month ago

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cleverhottubmiracle · 3 months ago

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Easter is not just about bunnies—it’s a celebration of joy, renewal, and, of course, great fashion. As flowers bloom and the days grow warmer, it’s the perfect time to ditch those heavy winter layers and embrace light, airy fabrics in vibrant, springtime hues. With the season’s vivacity comes an array of occasions to dress up for, whether you’re headed to a family brunch, a chic garden party, or a church celebration. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed with so many choices, as the season practically overflows with options. However, don’t fret. Your look should be just as fresh, lively, and radiant as the season itself. Photo: @sweetlikeoyin/Instagram This spring, we’re diving into soft romanticism, vintage-inspired silhouettes, and statement details that effortlessly steal the spotlight. From delicate pastels to bold, modern twists on timeless styles, this season’s Easter dress trends offer a dreamy blend of elegance and fun. 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Opt for a midi-length style with lace or embroidery details to add a touch of nostalgia. Complete the look with Mary Janes or low-heeled slingbacks, and you’ll be wrapped in classic elegance with a charming, timeless appeal. #3. Cut it out Photo: @jeneenaylor/Instagram For the trendsetters seeking a modern twist, a dainty dress with subtle waist, chest, or back cutouts strikes the perfect balance between elegance and edge. Look for designs featuring ruffles or asymmetrical detailing to add that extra flair. Keep accessories minimal to let the boldness of the design speak for itself. You’re sure to make a statement without saying a word! #4. Lacy maxis Photo: @debbs_bjuku/Instagram The cottagecore aesthetic has captured the hearts of many, and there’s no better way to channel that soft, romantic vibe this Easter than with a lace maxi dress. Picture high necklines, ruffled hems, and delicate lace overlays in shades like ivory, powder blue, or lavender. This look is perfect for an Easter brunch or a peaceful countryside getaway. Pair it with woven ballet flats and a straw handbag, and you’ll embody the full rustic charm effortlessly. #5. Statement bows Photo: Posh Mark Bows have always been a girly girl’s best ally, and Easter presents the perfect opportunity to embrace this ultra-feminine detail. Whether it’s a conspicuous bow on the chest, delicate bow-tied straps, or an oversized bow at the back, this look offers a playful yet polished vibe. Moreover, opting for soft silk or satin fabrics in pastel shades will elevate your Easter dress, adding a touch of luxury and sophistication to your ensemble. Photo: Vici Photo: @blaireadiebee/Instagram Shop editor’s finds #6. Sheer bliss Photo: @slipintostyle/Instagram For a whimsical touch, a sheer overlay dress adorned with delicate embroidery or 3D floral appliqués is an absolute must this season. Opt for a pastel slip dress underneath to keep the look fresh, light, and Easter-ready. This trend is perfect for outdoor celebrations, allowing you to channel your inner spring goddess while radiating effortless beauty. Photo: @lala/Instagram . #7. Slip it in Photo: @koolkelsey/Instagram If minimalism is more your vibe, a sleek satin slip dress in an Easter-friendly hue like soft lilac, baby pink, or light peach is the way to go. Look for designs featuring a cowl neckline or delicate lace trim to add a subtle touch of romance. To complete the look, layer with a lightweight cardigan or a cropped blazer, creating a refined and effortlessly chic ensemble perfect for the season. #8. Wrap it up Photo: @vanessa.padi/Instagram Wrap dresses are universally flattering, and when adorned with soft ruffles, they bring an extra dose of romance to your Easter look. Opt for a floral-printed or solid-colored version in breathable fabrics like linen or chiffon for a light and airy vibe. To complete the look, pair it with strappy sandals and a woven clutch, creating a stylish yet comfortable outfit perfect for a sunny spring day. #9. Puffed up Photo: @lovely_amusan/Instagram Playful, chic, and oh-so-trendy, a puffy sleeve dress is the ultimate flirty Easter look. The voluminous sleeves and relaxed silhouette exude an effortless, whimsical vibe, allowing you to stay comfortable while looking stylish all day long. For an extra seasonal touch, opt for pastel gingham or dainty florals, embracing the fresh spirit of spring. #10. A classic eyelet Photo: @edaowofashion/Instagram An Easter classic, the white eyelet dress never goes out of style. This season, experiment with intricate embroidery, scalloped edges, and tiered skirts to give it a fresh update. For an added pop of personality, incorporate a bit of color into the pattern. Pair it with nude espadrilles and gold jewelry for an effortlessly polished finish, perfect for any springtime occasion. Shop editor’s finds Photo: @olivaarukwe/Instagram Photo: Suzannah London This Easter, let your dress reflect the joy and renewal of the season. Whether you choose to embrace full-on romance with lace and pastels or make a bold statement with cutouts and modern details, the possibilities are endless. Whatever style you opt for, make sure it captures the fresh, vibrant energy of spring. For the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and culture, follow us on Instagram @StyleRave_ —Read also !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', ' fbq('init', '496558104568102'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '1453079628754066'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

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norajworld · 3 months ago

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chilimili212 · 3 months ago

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fruitchouli · 3 years ago

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hello lovers time for the next sale ❤️

Salvador Dali La Belle et L’Ocelot (2014) 3.4oz 95% full - old-school 80s soapy spiced floriental meets modern fruitchouli, with orange, apricot-y osmanthus, patchouli, benzoin, and incense. for fans of Coco Noir - SOLD

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Alaia Paris Alaïa (2015) 1oz 83% - fresh violets, mountain air, and musky suede. Luca Turin said this smells like the interior of a Concorde jet; leather mixed with perfume from past passengers - SOLD

Guerlain Apres l’Ondee (1906) 2.5oz 98% - “purple flowers deluged by foggy air” “airy, pastel pointillism impressions of spring gardens” -pandarapt on fragrantica. “the prototypical cold and melancholy perfume. Simplicity, aching nostalgia, and unadorned beauty.” -Luca Turin. a favorite of Isabelle Adjani - SOLD

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Kenzo World Intense (2017) 1.7oz 98% full - plummy synthetic candy sweetness with fresh peony - $35

Gucci Gucci Oud (2014) 1.6oz 99% full - safe and entry level rose saffron oud with a jammy sweet rose - $62

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DM me 💌💌😋

#for sale

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theshopislocal · 4 years ago

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corinth rains

New and improved Heaven may well be the Happiest Place (not) on Earth. But Dean, it turns out, is still Dean.

(also on AO3)

chapter two

Heaven is warm, bucolic, and perfect. And it gives Dean the damned heebie-jeebies.

He recalls a memorable night spent with Pamela - well, as memorable as it could be after a fifth of Macallan. Sam had said ‘So get this...’ and then fucked off to the local library, leaving Pam and Dean at the hotel bar. They’d drunk til the lights got fuzzy, and Pam had leaned back against the barstool, arching one dark eyebrow.

She’d had Dean supine across the foot of the squeaky queen, sitting astride him and working some kind of magic. She’d settled his hands on her slim waist, tugged at his hair, bitten his lips; he’d had nary a moment to want something before she gave it - the craving coming on the heels of the having.

Heaven is much the same - perceptive and generous - and it leaves Dean feeling just as he had that night with Pam. Vulnerable, flayed open. Seen.

He assumes it’s heaven’s off-brand kind of ESP that’s landed him here, seated at a teakwood dining table in a house over yonder.

There are soft sounds from the kitchen - cabinets opening, a gurgling coffee maker, a substratum of tuneless humming. Dean hunches over his plate and shovels another forkful of pie into his mouth. It’s sweet and rich, tart and crumbly, and he barely tastes it at all.

“You alright?”

Dean looks up to find Mary seated across from him. She’s a little younger than when he last saw her, but otherwise she’s just as he remembers - her yellow hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her eyes a soft Carolina blue.

She stares at him, calm and unconcerned, the bow of her lips turned up in a tiny smile.

Dean shakes his head and gives a little shrug. “Yeah, ‘course,” he says, gruffer than intended.

She notices, he’s sure, but she only tips her head in a nod. “Okay.”

A quietude stretches between them, peaceful but gravid. Mary tilts her head, face serene and mildly expectant, and she inches a pale hand forward on the table. His fingers clench around the little dessert fork, and he takes another bite.

She’s waiting, he realizes, for him to speak, to get there. Though where ‘there’ is, Dean’s got no damn idea.

“You know,” he says, to fill the silence, “Sammy asked me if I remembered anything,” he swallows, throat dry, and looks down at his plate, “‘bout bein’ a kid.”

Mary’s eyebrows pop up, and she smiles a little wider. “You remembered me,” she offers.

Dean’s eyes alight on hers, and his lips purse. There’s something something fragile in her face, a budding hope that he doesn’t want to crush. You made me sandwiches, he wants to say. You told me bedtime stories.

His stomach clenches. You burned alive, gutted on the ceiling.

Dean looks away, brow furrowed. “‘Course I did,” he grunts out, throat tight.

She gives him a look that goes right through him - compassionate, or maybe pitying. Her mouth turns down like she can hear his thoughts, and he bites his cheek, shamefaced.

“What else do you remember?” she asks, and her voice is mild and curious, lacking the censure Dean expected.

Dean reins in his surprise and dips his head, summoning a wry smile. “Well,” he says and points his fork at the plate of pie crumbs.

She rolls her eyes and nods, smiling once again. “Yes, obviously pie. What else.”

He stares at her for a moment, feeling wrong-footed and a little short-changed, then peers through the open French doors toward the mountainside. He scans his memories, steering clear of the ugly ones that present themselves first, looking for something - anything - to keep her smiling.

...Weedy grass and buzzing bees.

“Our backyard,” he murmurs, and feels his lips quirk up.

Mary’s smile grows soft, warm like the spring air. “Mm,” she hums. “Always overgrown. Your dad never wanted to mow it.”

Dean withholds a wince at the mention of John, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “I liked it how it was.”

Mary’s eyes dart up to his, and her soft laugh lines deepen. “Yeah, you did.”

Dean’s eyes trace over her face, searching for something, though he’s not sure what. She’s still the girl who made a deal with a yellow-eyed demon. Still the woman who left, and left, and left again. She’s no more perfect now than she ever was, but...

She has laugh lines, and yellow hair, and Carolina blue eyes. And she’s looking at Dean like she’s missed him forever. Damn, if he hasn’t missed her, too.

Something loosens in his chest, and his fists unclench. He smiles, wan but sincere, and leans back in his seat, crossing his ankles under the table. “Coulda done without the bees though.”

She huffs a little laugh and shakes her head. “You loved the bees,” she counters.

Dean raises a doubtful eyebrow. “Did I?”

“Mhm,” she hums, nodding sagely. “You’d chase ‘em around, flapping your arms like little wings.”

Dean squints, searching his scattered memory. He remembers the yard, the foliage, the window into the kitchen. He remembers thunder and lightning and torrential downpour. He doesn’t remember himself.

“Huh,” he says, and folds his arms over his chest.

He stares across the table at Mary. She’s silent but smiling, her eyes far away. It’s a familiar look, one he’s seen on nearly everyone he knows in Heaven. Like they’re lost in a beautiful memory - a moment in their past lives that they didn’t regret.

Dean doesn’t think about his human life. He’d lived it, after all. That was enough.

“You drew me a map once.”

Dean eyes flick up from where they’d settled on his dirty plate, and his brow furrows. “A map?”

She nods, still staring glassy-eyed into the middle distance. “You followed one little bee all day long,” she murmurs. “Counted all the flowers she landed on. Then you,” she swallows, and her eyes go shiny, “you raced inside and scribbled it all out on the back of a—” a startled huff of laughter, “—a takeout menu.”

Dean watches her, the way her eyes flick back and forth, like she’s watching the scene unfold before her. There’s an ache near the center of his chest like a bruise. “I don’t remember that,” he says, voiced pitched low.

Her head tilts up, absent eyes meeting his as she pulls herself from reverie. “You were... three? Maybe four?” She looks down and brings a hand to settle over her heart. “It was beautiful,” she whispers, and tilts her head. “Wish I still had it.”

Dean nods at her, though she’s still looking away, and he feels a hot coil of guilt in his stomach. Mary had adored him, he knows that much, and she’d lost him as surely as he’d lost her. He remembers the expectant way he’d looked at her in the bunker, wanting something she couldn’t remember how to give. Something he barely even remembers himself.

There’s movement behind Mary’s head, and Dean’s eyes snap to it.

Something is... growing on the wall.

Dean’s fists clench up, and he watches with hawk eyes as the thing manifests, forming itself into a vaguely rectangular shape. He feels his lips purse tight and his spine straighten like a rod.

Mary senses his sudden tension and looks up, following his eyes over her shoulder.

“Oh my god,” she whispers in awe.

She unfolds herself from her chair and stands up slowly, as if in a dream. She walks the four paces to the wood-paneled wall, reaching out a cautious hand. Her fingers close around the frame of the thing, and she gives a soft sigh.

Dean stares at her back where the knobs of her spine meet her neck, her shoulder blades distorting the periwinkle plaid of her blouse. She turns around, her eyes fixed on her prize, thumbs smoothing over the simple wood frame.

She comes around the table, sliding into the chair at Dean’s side, and when she finally looks up at him, her eyes are bright and red-rimmed. She takes Dean’s hand in hers, her skin smooth and cool, and slips the little framed drawing into his palm.

He peers down at it and gives a startled bark of laughter.

The drawing is entirely ridiculous - an indecipherable riot of squiggly pen lines and waxy crayon color. There’s a messy bed of green near the bottom, which Dean assumes is grass, and it’s speckled with tiny blobs of vibrant pink and deep red - flowers, Dean thinks. Near the center of the page is a single white daisy with a bright yellow bumblebee hovering over it. A swirling purple line trails behind its black-striped body, making loop-de-loops around every flower. The sky is a strip of electric blue at the top, just above an empty field of white - the landscape drawn as children often do, with the heavens separated from the earth.

His fingers hover over a grease-stained corner, illegible text bleeding through. “Jeez,” he breathes out. “Clearly I missed my calling.”

He hears the broad smile in Mary’s voice. “Coulda been the next Da Vinci,” she says, nudging his shoulder.

Dean huffs and raises an eyebrow. “More like Picasso.”

She laughs at that, as he knew she would, and it sounds like Corinthian bells, chiming in harmony on the breeze.

Dean smiles to himself, eyes roving over his apparent masterpiece before alighting on a strange scribble in the corner.

“What’s this?” he murmurs, pointing a finger at the tiny black and blue squiggle.

“Hm?” Mary leans closer to him, and Dean’s nose twitches with the scent of tart apples clinging to her hair. She looks at the little scribble, frowning for a moment, before her eyebrows pop up. “Oh, wow,” she sighs out, leaning closer. “I forgot about that.”

She reaches out a hand to grasp the side of the frame opposite Dean’s, the small weight of the silly little drawing shared between them. She’s got that look again, like there’s an old Super 8 projection playing in her head. Dean wonders what’s on the reel.

She chews her lip for a moment, then tips her head toward Dean. “You remember what I used to tell you before bed?” she asks, peering up at his face.

Dean frowns. “Brush your teeth or they’ll turn green?”

She gives him a look. “That was Dad.”

Dean tips his head back in a nod. “Right. Uh...” Dean trails off for a moment, unsure. Nearly all of his childhood memories are of Mary, but they’re weathered and vague, filtered through the consciousness of a toddler. He barely remembers the words she said, only the lilting strains of her voice as she calmed him, soothed him, protected him—

An image flits across his mind, and he sucks in a breath: a tiny figurine that sat on the mantel, with fluffy little wings and a crown of white roses.

Dean blinks and shakes his head. “Angels are watching over me,” he intones.

He sees Mary nod in his peripheral vision, and her finger taps on the little scribble near his thumb.

“It’s—” Dean starts and frowns, askance, “...an angel?” he guesses.

“Mhm,” she hums, giving another slow nod. Her finger slides across the two tiny black scrawls, vaguely triangular and joined at the middle. “Wings,” she says, then taps the blue oval just above, “halo.” He sees her smile out of the corner of his eye. “You drew it all the time.”

Dean stares at the squiggle, a frown etching across his forehead. The figurine he remembers was nearly solid white, the only deviations its pink skin and dark eyes. There’s not a speck of white in the little scribble, no cherubic cloud-seeder to be found. Just messy black shapes and a faded blue circle. Black wings, blue halo.

Black wings. Blue halo.

Black wings.

... Blue—

The painting slips from his fingers as Mary takes it back in her hands. She holds it gently, reverently, as she stands and walks around the table. Dean shakes his head to clear it, and watches as she replaces the little picture on the center of the wall. It looks, at once, as if it has always hung there, and like he’d drawn it but a moment ago.

A shiver climbs up the back of Dean's neck. He shrugs it off.

“How’s Dad?” he asks lowly, and regrets it immediately.

Mary turns around, her eyes a little wide, eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. Dean isn’t sure why he asked. He backtraces his train of thought, only to find he hadn’t had one at all; seems he’s done his usual shtick of putting his foot in his mouth the very moment he opens it.

Mary seems to sense his imminent retraction, and she settles her face into a genial smile. “He’s good,” she says mildly and comes back to her seat across from Dean. “Wasn’t sure he’d like it here, at first. But,” she settles into the worn wooden chair, “I think he does.”

Dean represses a scoff at that. “Why wouldn’t he?” he says and picks up his fork, eyes downcast. “He’s got you.” He slides the crumbs around on his plate, shoulders hunching forward. “All he ever wanted.”

Mary is silent for a long moment, and Dean doesn’t look up - he can picture her face well enough. His fork scrapes against white porcelain, the sun a bright glare on the stainless steel tines.

Mary sighs, barely audible. “You ever gonna talk to him?”

Her voice is soft and ambivalent, as if she’s already accepted his answer. It gets Dean’s back up, and he peers up at her through flinty eyes.

She’s staring at him, face guileless and open. There’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes, flavored with a sort of tempered sadness. But there’s no reproof, no expectation, and Dean gets the strange feeling that there isn’t a right answer. Or a wrong one.

Dean’s jaw goes a little slack, and for a moment, he thinks he might simply say, No.

Mary tips her head to the side, eyes going soft as her lips turn up, and the moment passes.

“‘Course, I will,” Dean grumbles, casting his eyes back to his empty plate. He shrugs. “Not avoiding him, just...” he trails off and shakes his head. Best leave it there.

Mary takes a slow breath, and Dean sees the vague shape of her leaning forward in her seat.

“Well,” she starts, lacing her fingers on the tabletop. “I won’t speak for him—”

Dean snorts. “But.”

Mary sighs, amused and resigned. “But... I know he’s got a lot to say. He just...” she pauses for a moment, then shrugs her shoulders. “He doesn’t really know how to say it. He knows he—” she cuts herself off with a quick shake of her head. “Well,” her hands raise in a brief shrug. “It’s his truth to tell.”

Dean nods absently, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’s known since ‘they live over yonder’ that a reckoning would come for him and his dad. Dean just isn’t quite sure if he’s ready for whatever truth John might tell - or if he’s even inclined to listen to it.

Dean clenches his jaw and drops his fork onto the plate. It clatters loud in the calm of the spring afternoon, and Dean barely restrains a flinch.

Mary leans further forward, hand sliding halfway across the table.

“Dean—”

“Think Sammy’s gonna join the Arch,” Dean says overloud, settling his elbows on the tabletop.

Mary pauses at the abrupt change of subject, but deftly lets it slide. Her eyes flutter a bit, and she pulls her hand back. “Yeah?” she asks, giving a slightly awkward smile.

Dean feels a twinge of guilt in his throat and swallows it down. “Mm,” he nods. “Eileen’s gonna join. And lord knows wherever she goes—”

“Sam goes,” Mary finishes, her smile seeming to widen and soften at once. “He loves her,” she murmurs.

Dean’s stomach clenches taut, even as a smile comes unbidden. He remembers Sam peering over his shoulder as they’d stood on the bridge, his mouth slack and eyes liquid. Dean had known without looking who stood behind him. Sam had gone to her on shaky legs that crumbled beneath him as he reached her. Dean’s vision had gone blurry, and he’d turned away from them, eyes squinting out at the sunlit mountain.

“Yeah,” Dean says, voice a little thick. He clears his throat and nods. “And I get it, ya know. He—” he interrupts himself on a wincing inhale. “He lost her before.” A dry swallow. “Twice.”

Mary makes a little noise in her throat. “Three times,” she whispers.

Dean frowns, confused, and glances up at Mary. Her eyes are shiny, mouth screwed up in a tiny sad smile.

Oh. “She... she went before him?”

Mary’s eyebrows scrunch together, and she sniffs. “She stayed with us. Til he came.”

Dean’s brows rise at that. Offering comfort in a time of need isn’t really his parents’ bag - at least, not that Dean can remember.

Then again, he can’t think of anyone who knows grief better.

“Huh,” he grunts in lieu of a response, and glances up.

Mary is still staring at him, but the melancholy has given way to a sharp sort of consideration. Her eyes dart over his face, slightly squinted, and she looks so much like Sam that Dean turns to stare out at the sun.

Here in Heaven, Sam and Mary are quite alike: happy, whole, and ready for a new life - a new fight.

Dean is just... tired.

“You know,” Mary begins, and Dean’s eyes flick to her hands, still resting on the table. “He’s not going anywhere,” she says, and Dean’s eye twitches in a wince. “You know that, right?”

Dean nods and swallows, looking down at his own hands. “Yeah, I know.” And he does know.

“Even if he joins the Arch,” she continues as if he hadn’t spoken. Her voice is ardent but still gentle, and she leans forward. “He’s not going anywhere. He—” she huffs and tips her head side to side. “He might get a little banged up, maybe, but—”

He knows. “I know.”

“—he...” Mary trails off on a sigh, stretching her arm across the table. Her fingers brush his, and he holds himself still. “No one’s gonna take him away, Dean.” She runs her thumb over the knuckles of his fist. “It’s work,” she acknowledges. “Dirty work, even, but... it’s not life or death,” she murmurs with a tiny smile. “Not here.”

Dean knows this. He knows all of this, but... But that doesn’t stop him from... It’s not the same as...

It doesn’t make him—

“I know,” he intones, giving her a tight smile.

Her eyebrows make a sympathetic shape, and she pulls her hand back. Dean’s shoulders relax, just slightly.

“You know, your dad thought you would join,” she says with a little smile.

Dean huffs out a chuckle, bitter and resigned. “‘Course he did,” he grunts, pressing his thumbs together.

“Dean,” Mary sighs, tone somewhere between chiding and apologetic.

Dean’s lips turn down, and he shakes his head. “Sorry,” he mutters, mostly sincerely.

“It wasn’t an expectation,” Mary says, then gives a little shrug. “He just... I think he figured all the—” she shakes her head, as if searching for the words, “-the soul-searching would...” she sighs. “I dunno... Make your teeth itch,” she finishes with a wry smile.

Dean gives her one back, though he feels a headache coming on. His teeth do itch. Everything itches. Everything chafes.

“Well,” he starts and swallows again. His throat’s gone bone dry. “Still searching, I guess,” he says, and he supposes it might be true, but- “Not sure what for, though.”

Mary reaches her hand out again, and Dean goes tense for a moment. His eyes flit to hers, and he finds them crinkled at the corners. She’s smiling at him as she’d smiled at his little drawing, as she’d smiled when she sat him down, as she’d smiled while he ate his pie. She’s smiling at him now, as she had when he was a boy, as she always has.

Her skin looks like clouds, her eyes like the sky. She laces her fingers with Dean’s, and the tension across his back fades away.

“I think,” Mom murmurs, “you’ll know it when you find it.”

chapter one | chapter three

table of contents

#corinth rains #destiel #deancas #fanfiction #post-canon #slow burn #dean-centric #tw: depression #chapter wc: ~3.4k

7 notes · View notes

agrestenoir · 6 years ago

Text

linearity is over-rated

Summary: How “I love you” follows the story of Marinette and Adrien over the years. A non-linear love story told in 25 parts.

“Where do you want to start?”

“At the beginning.”

As a hello, Marinette crawls under the covers and sticks her cold feet against the back of his knees. He squirms in response, trying to pull away, and there’s a rustle of sheets and muffled grunts. “Hi,” she tells him, all bright blue eyes and tousled black hair. “I love you.”

Adrien hits her in the face with his pillow. She simply laughs and laughs and laughs.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets, he reaches across her bare waist to pull her closer, simply staring at the morning sunlight slipping through the window to wash over her soft, pale body.

“I love you, you know that?” he says, lips pressed against the back of her neck.

In his arms, she stirs, casting a simple smile over her shoulder. Blue eyes stare at him without the mask, and it’s all so new and beautiful and still so breathtaking. “Of course, I do,” she tells him in response. “I always have.”

A scream that rips through the Paris sky, wind rushing past as they fall to their deaths from thousands of feet up: “If I never get the chance to tell you, I love you, Ladybug!”

Ladybug tightens her arms around her partner, squeezing her eyes shut because she doesn’t want to see what happens next.

Over a cup of tea, Marinette watches Adrien ponder over his pastry at the little table in her parents’ bakery. “When do you feel like it’s the right time to say you love someone?” The question is something he’s been holding in for days now.

With a sigh, she thinks bitterly of Kagami, all dark eyes and rare beauty that moves with a grace Marinette never could muster. She thinks of the look on Adrien’s face when he sees her, of the soft smile that adjourns his face when her name pops up on his phone screen, the laugh that falls from his lips when he’s talking to her.

“If you mean it,” she says, “then it’s always the right time.”

Over a beer bottle, she’s drunk and screaming at him. “You think it doesn’t kill me when I see the way you look at her? Of course, it hurts!” Marinette throws the empty bottle onto the floor between them, glass shards bouncing across the hardwood. “I love you! I love you! Of course, it fucking hurts!”

The words hold him at gunpoint, and Adrien doesn’t dare move.

On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in his hair, Marinette runs a hand through the golden locks and wonders if this is what angels look like. “You’re so beautiful,” she tells him softly like a whisper caught on the edge of the wind. “I love that about you.”

“The billboards must render you catatonic then,” he teases, green eyes sparkling. She squawks and tackles him in retaliation, but he ducks around her, tight and quick, so good at it because it’s a dance they’ve spent ten years learning.

As a thank you, the words fall from his lips without a second thought. “God, I love you.”

His partner of a month quirks an eyebrow over the rim of her coffee cup. “It’s just from Starbucks,” Ladybug says, but it doesn’t matter.

Chat Noir’s already gone.

As an apology, he stands in the doorway of her apartment with an intense expression, bangs flustered against his skin from the rain outside, still dripping puddles on the hardwood floor of the hallway. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave, I just…” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I love you so much, Mari.”

It’s not what she wants to hear, but it’s enough for now. With a heavy sigh, she reaches forward and grabs his wrist, tugging him back inside. “You forgot your umbrella,” she tells him, like it makes all the difference.

When baking chocolate chip cookies, Adrien stands in a puddle of flour, trying to figure out how long to put them in the oven. From the corner of the kitchen, Marinette covers her mouth with her hand, unable to hide her giggles, because the smartest boy she knows can’t even master the basics of baking.

Her mother, Sabine, pops her head in and smiles at the sight. “So this is the one, huh?” she whispers to her daughter, quirking an eyebrow high.

Marinette shrugs helplessly. At sixteen, she isn’t sure what she’s found, but she’s pretty sure it’s love.

Not said to her, Adrien holds Kagami’s hand between his, intertwining their fingers in a loose grip, as they hide in the corner of the ballroom as the New Year festivities reach a crescendo. “I know we’ve been together for a long time, and I do love you,” he tells her quietly, a book end to one of the best parts of twenty. “But….”

“It’s Marinette, isn’t it?” she asks him, dark eyes heavy.

Adrien can only shrug. “I love her. I’m sorry.”

With a sigh, Kagami gently pulls her hand from his. “It’s okay,” she says. “I think I’ve known for a long time, actually.”

She lifts up onto her tip-toes and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his lips as a goodbye, but even as she pulls away, Adrien catches sight of Marinette sitting on the opposite of the room. She’s holding a bottle of Coors Light with a white-knuckled grip, blue eyes steely as they watch him and Kagami. When she sees Adrien staring, she pushes herself to her feet and walks away.

“Go,” Kagami mumbles under her breath. “Go get her. It’s what you want.”

Like he does with most other things in life, Adrien follows Marinette.

With a shuddering gasp after their first time, Chat Noir falls beside her in the darkness, trying to catch his breath. “God, you’re amazing.”

In the darkness, she can’t see who he is or what he looks like (which was the whole point in the first place), but she wishes she could with a visceral urge that reminds her of something innate, like remembering how to breathe or how to speak.

Ladybug doesn’t know if she’s falling or if he’s already caught her, but all she knows is that she loves him.

When they lay together in the fresh spring grass, Alya nudges Adrien’s side with her elbow and flashes them a wicked smile. “So when are you gonna tell Marinette you’re in love with her?”

Marinette glares at her from the other side of the picnic blanket as Adrien simply laughs and thinks of Ladybug instead. “Marinette?” he says, confused. “No, she’s just my best friend.”

But as he muses over it later that night before sleep takes hold, he figures that loving Marinette wouldn’t be the worst thing in life.

Not at all.

In a letter, scrawled hurriedly in the margins of her latest design, are the words: Mrs. Adrien Agreste. A smile sprouts across his face as he catches sight of it, and a warm blush blossoms over the apples of his cheeks.

“I love you too,” he tells her as he hands her the sketchbook. “But you know I’m taking your name, right?”

A whisper in the ear as Ladybug stands over Hawkmoth, sweat-tangled hair falls out of its updo, and blood-streaked hands grasp the collar of his shirt. “I loved him, and you tried to kill him.” She bears her teeth, eyes wild. “I’m going to destroy you.”

Loud, so everyone can hear, Adrien stands on her balcony and screams out into the Paris evening air. “I am in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’m not afraid to say it!”

The twenty-one-year-old has her hands wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to tug him back inside to her bedroom. “No, stop it! I hate you, you asshole! I’m still mad at you, Adrien Agreste!”

The rain still pours, and she’s getting drenched, but the horrors of the night are simply washing away. Soon, she forgets why she was even mad at him in the first place.

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble, she chatters in his ear, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He struggles not to drop her, confusion etched across his face, because he doesn’t know what it means to come home and have his wife freak out (albeit in a pleasant, perfect sort of way).

“Are you okay?” he has to ask.

Tears glimmering in her blue eyes, she kisses him firmly on the mouth. “I’ve thought a lot about this,” she says. “And we’re going to name her Emma.”

The pregnancy test lays discarded on the bathroom counter, the pink plus sign shining for all the world to see.

When the broken glass litters the floor, Marinette is on her hands and knees picking up the remnants of the vase and roses, unable to meet his heavy gaze. “If you have to leave, then do it.”

Adrien chews on his bottom lip, all chapped and broken, dark shadows under his eyes like never-healing bruises. It’s been that way since his father was arrested three months prior, and no matter what she does, she can’t make him whole again. She can’t make things okay.

“I love you,” he tells her, and she knows what’s coming. “But I need some time, Marinette.”

“Just go,” she says again, gesturing to the front door of her apartment. Outside, it’s rain and lightning and thunder, echoing the storm brewing in her heart. “I can’t be everything, Adrien. Just go find what you need, and leave me alone.”

There’s silence that lingers, thick but fragile, until the sound of the door closing reverberates through the room.

Adrien’s gone. Marinette sits on the floor and cries.

From very far away, Adrien’s voice sounds over the laptop. “Okay, tell Mama I love her, Emmy. Daddy has to go back to work now.”

Emma giggles in response, and there’s the pitter-patter of little footsteps as she runs back to the camera. “Mama says you gotta come home soon.”

“I know, baby.” Adrien smiles softly. “I miss my girls too.”

Emma shakes her head. “Nooo. You miss Hugo too, right?”

“Hugo?”

“My baby brother!” His daughter jumps up and down with unbridled excitement. “Mama’s gonna have another baby!” Suddenly though, her eyes shutter, and she leans close. “But you can’t tell Mama I told you, Daddy, because it’s supposed to be a secret.”

Adrien is silent for a moment, and then… “MARINETTE!!! COME BACK TO THE LAPTOP, RIGHT NOW.”

With no space left between them, the words tumble out, easy and free, “I can’t remember the last time I told you I loved you.” Chat Noir glances at Ladybug with a puzzled expression, unsure how to proceed. “Is that weird?”

His partner sighs and settles against him, the warm Paris night bustling around them. “Probably because it means something different to you now.”

“How so?” he asks.

“Well you’re dating that girl now, right?” She shrugs and shakes her head because there’s not much else to say. “You’re in love with her now.”

“Doesn’t stop me from loving you though,” he tells her honestly, green eyes piercing. She stares at him in bewilderment, and he only laughs. “I mean… I may not be actively pursuing your heart and trying to date the hell out of you anymore, but I just want you to know that you’re still the most important person in my life.”

“…You too, Chat Noir.” Her voice is soft and smooth like glass, and just as easy to break if he wanted too.

“Ladybug, that’s never going to change.”

As they huddle together, the storm raging outside, fifteen-year-old Ladybug shivers against his side and bites out, “Don’t get any funny ideas, chaton.” Despite her rough words, she snuggles deeper against him as they ride out the horrid weather.

“As if you’d ever let me touch you,” he grumbles with a smile, and Ladybug can’t help the bark of laughter that falls from her lips. “But I swear you’ll fall in love with me someday, Ladybug.”

“Keep dreaming, Chat Noir.”

“Gladly.”

Over her shoulder, she glances back and him and quirks a brow high. “I love you, but you’re being ridiculous if you think I’m getting into this school.”

Adrien groans and falls back on her bed, her university results clutched in his hand, still sealed in their respective envelopes. “Mari, when are you going to realize how awesome you are? You are singlehandedly the best person I know, so why can’t you see it yourself?”

Marinette simply smiles in response and snatches the letter from his hand, still not opening it. “Careful,” she tells him. “You don’t want Kagami to hear that.”

Adrien doesn’t know what his girlfriend has to do with things, but he pushes Marinette to open the letter from Esmond anyway.

She’s accepted. He’s not surprised.

Muffled, from the other side of the door, his voice comes through. “Come on, Marinette, please let me in. I love you.” She shudders at his words as they echo through their shared bedroom, too afraid to flip the lock and let him in. “I didn’t mean to take the shot for you, but when it’s your life at stake, I’ll do anything. You know that.”

She doesn’t answer because her heart is screaming in her chest, banging against her rib cage like a wild animal desperate to let out. Marinette doesn’t know what she would even say to him though, too caught up in that flash-second of him freefalling and getting hit by the akuma. It’s been two years since Gabriel Agreste was arrested and Adrien almost died, but the newest Hawkmoth, just as clever and chaotic as the last, has a habit of bringing back those dark times.

Adrien bangs against the door again, but Marinette still won’t open it. When his life means everything to her, she can’t speak her peace without their being some sort of repercussions.

So she lets him keep screaming, and she keeps crying, because they are both two souls willing to put their lives on the line when they mean the universe to each other.

It’s a hard hand to deal.

Through a song, his hands dance across the piano keys. “My mom played this at her wedding,” he tells her, eyes distant and lost in a memory. “It’s one of the first songs she ever taught me.”

“It’s beautiful,” Marinette muses, just listening to the soft notes fill the air. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a love story,” he says. “It’s always a love story.”

Without really meaning it, as the flour explodes in her face, streaks of white dusting her skin and hair, Adrien erupts into laughter. “Oh my god, you suck at baking too,” he says breathlessly, body shaking. “God, I love you.”

Marinette stills, smile frozen on her face as the weight of it crashes over her. “You love me?” she asks.

He stares at her in confusion. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

The smile on her face grows larger, and all she can think is how much she wants to hear him say it again.

In a blissful sigh as she falls asleep, the sound reaches Chat Noir as he pauses in the doorway of the bathroom. “I love you,” comes Ladybug’s voice.

Suddenly, the bruises on his hips and the marks on his neck ache like something furious. He bites his bottom lip and tries to pretend like he didn’t hear a damn thing. They promised that the sex didn’t mean anything, so the thought of Ladybug without barriers letting that pass makes his pitiful heart jump into overdrive.

What does it even matter if you won’t say it to my face? He closes his eyes and shakes his head and wonders if it’s finally time to move on.

He calls Kagami in the morning.

Broken, as Ladybug clutches the sleeve of his jacket and begs him not to leave, the words fall from pale lips, stammered and rushed. “You can’t just end it like this.”

The winter swells around them in a swirl of blistery air, snow clutching onto the red of her suit and the curls in her hair, and she stands like an ethereal angel, but the sight just breaks his heart. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Chat Noir,” she whispers. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m always going to be your partner,” he tells her. “But I can’t be anything else.” He licks his lips in thought, trying to salvage their fracturing relationship. “There’s a girl outside the mask who’s not afraid to love me, and I could see something real happening with her.”

“Please.” There’s tears now, and he’s at a loss for words.

“Ladybug…”

“Just don’t leave me. Please.”

A taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at his lips, he stands in the living room with his hands on his hips. “You think just because I love you that I’m going to your stuffy office party? That’s not how this works, my lady.”

Marinette squeals and snatches one of the pillows off the sofa and throws it at him. “I married you, you ass, it’s in our fucking wedding vows. You don’t have a choice.”

He catches the pillow effortlessly. “Look, my father dragged me to one too many of those when I was a kid. I’m not sitting through that torture again.”

“You said in sickness and in health,” she reminds him with a heated glare. She skips around the couch, coming closer to Adrien. “That includes company parties where I have to listen to Chloe Bourgeois for hours and hours. You’re stuck with me.”

“I will never—OH SHIT!” He doesn’t catch his wife this time, as she leaps into the air and tackles him to the ground.

When they’re dead, Paris mourns Ladybug and Chat Noir. Marinette and Adrien watch on television from their dark living room, Hugo and Emma asleep between them, with heavy hearts as the city grieves the loss of their heroes.

“Did we do the right thing?” Adrien asks her, eyes haunted with the ghosts of the last battle.

“I don’t know,” she tells him softly, voice hollow. On screen, people cry, and her own tear drips down her cheek like candlewax, thick and slow. “What I do know is that I love you, and I never want to lose you.”

Outside, it’s raining.

It’s always raining.

Slowly, the words dripping from his tongue like honey, he spells out the truth she’s waited desperately to hear. “You are my best friend, Marinette, and my partner, Ladybug... and I love you.” He runs a hand through her hair, eyes softening as he presses his forehead against hers. “I just want to be with you.”

Outside, fireworks erupt as it strikes midnight, and Paris rings in the new year with a joyous applause. Inside, they find sanity in the spaces between their shared heartbeats, hot and heavy breathes warming pink, cool skin, as they take comfort in the feeling of finally being together.

Too quick, mumbled into his scarf, she asks him to say it again.

A light pink dusts the tips of his ears as Adrien clears his throat. “I said, ‘I love you, please marry me.’”

Flabbergasted, she can only stare at him. “But we’ve only been dating for a year.”

Instead of answering, Adrien simply shrugs, that stupid scarf falling off one shoulder with the movement. “So? We’ve basically been together since we were fifteen anyway.”

Marinette is silent, and he fingers the frayed ends of his sleeves, refusing to look at her. There’s a short pause, the span of a single heartbeat, and then she’s dragging him close by the scarf to kiss him.

In awe, the first time he realizes it, Ladybug stands on the Eiffel Tower with a proud smile, Paris safe and the world becoming something new. Her blue eyes burn with something bright, dark hair whipping in the wind, and she’s all red and black, just like his heart as it pounds harder and harder for this girl he just met.

“I love that girl,” he says like a promise.

In a way she can’t return, Chat Noir leaps in front of her as Hawkmoth strides forward with his rapier, the thin metal piercing through his armor, gleaming red with his blood under the afternoon sun.

Ladybug’s eyes widen with horror as she stares up at him, too shocked to comprehend what she’s seeing. “No…” she whispers, voice cracking.

“I love you,” are the last words he manages before he collapses, broken body barely breathing.

Ladybug’s screams echo through the city. Hawkmoth continues his rampage.

On a post-it note, his messy handwriting adjourns the neon green paper on their fridge. Holding their sleeping daughter in her arms, she lets a soft smile stretch across her face as she reads it: Have to jet to London for a meeting. Be back soon! Love you both <3

“Silly daddy,” Marinette whispers to the toddler. “I was gonna tell him about your new brother today.”

Before they jump, Chat Noir grabs her hand and yells out above the explosions as Hawkmoth continues his attack on Paris, the Eiffel Tower shuddering beneath them. “If we survive this, I’m gonna marry the hell out of you someday!”

Ladybug shakes her head. “You don’t even know my name!”

“Doesn’t matter if we’re gonna die anyway!”

She squeezes back and screams, “For what it’s worth, it’s Marinette!”

As a goodbye, Adrien smiles that awful broken, cracked thing. “I love you… but there’s so much that we have to deal with, and I don’t know if I can right now.”

“I’ve loved you for years,” Marinette tells him, eyes glinting angrily form her spot on the sofa. “As Marinette, as Ladybug…”

“But there’s Kagami.” He ducks his head from view, glancing at the exit instead. “She doesn’t know yet, and with everything that just went down, I think I need a little time to… process.”

She sighs and crosses her arms against her chest, smiling bitterly. “I can’t believe the two people I love are the same person… and I can’t have either of them.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He just walks away.

And when she tells him, with that soft, sad smile, wrapped in the sheeting the first morning after. “I’m going to love you forever,” she says to him, asleep and blissfully unaware. “Just try to stop me.”

#miraculous #ml fic #adrinette #ladynoir #ml #my writing #my fic

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ancientechos · 6 years ago

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Laurelis’ Never-Ending Survey

Rules: Repost, do not reblog

Tagged by: @whitherliliesbloom

Tagging: @iona-xiv + anyone else who wants to do it!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Laurelis Thyme

NICKNAME: ---

AGE: 22

BIRTHDAY: 28th Sun of the Third Umbral Moon (March 28)

ETHNIC GROUP: Sun Seeker Miqo’te

NATIONALITY: Thavnairian

LANGUAGE/S: Common

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Taken by Haurchefant /// maybe single based on AU

HOME TOWN / AREA: Limsa Lominsa....

CURRENT HOME: ....but has an apartment in The Lavender Beds

PROFESSION: Adventurer, odd jobber, medic.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Pink. Mid-length, usually fashioned with bangs.

EYES: Left eye is silver, right eye is violet.

FACE: Oval.

LIPS: Pink, semi-full, usually wears slight lipstick.

COMPLEXION: Pale.

BLEMISHES: None.

SCARS: Present.

TATTOOS: None.

HEIGHT: 5′1″

WEIGHT: 110 ponze

BUILD: Slender but muscular and wiry, athletic.

FEATURES: Bright eyes, a perpetual smile, miqo’te marks on her cheeks and forehead.

ALLERGIES: None.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Bangs, along with two pigtails and side-bangs framing her face.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Typically wears natural or very mild makeup.

USUAL CLOTHING: “Anything cute!” She’s addicted to glamour prisms and adores trying new styles and outfits.

VOICE CLAIM: Japanese: Probably Touyama Nao, at least the sort of voices she uses for Yuigahama Yui and Kirisaki Chitoge (minus the tsun tone). English: Whoever does female miqo voice 4.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Losing those she loves, being useless, being powerless

ASPIRATION/S: To save everyone!, to be seen as competent, to open a soup kitchen

POSITIVE TRAITS: agreeable, persevering, cheerful, empathetic, loyal, patient, caring, optimistic, reliable, generous

NEGATIVE TRAITS: stubborn, overemotional, overprotective, oversensitive, clingy, naive, impulsive, reckless, materialistic, insecure

TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine MBTI: ESFJ or ENFJ

SOUL TYPE/S: The Priest, The Server

ANIMALS: Cat Horse

VICE HABIT/S: Refuses to speak her mind if it seems “personal”, won’t acknowledge negative emotions, fidgeting with her hair or fingers.

FAITH: None.

GHOSTS?: Well, if there are any, we have to help them, right? There must be a reason they’re still around after all!

AFTERLIFE?: Maybe...

REINCARNATION?: She’s never really thought about it, but perhaps. It would be nice, at least. ALIENS?: A-aliens?! Huh...t-that’s a weird thought...maybe...she’s never thought of that, either...

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: None.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Mid-level.

FAMILY.

FATHER : A jewelry merchant, money-conscious and warm, somewhat reclusive but would never turn down a conversation. A mathematician, extremely good with keeping track of sales and his own spending.

MOTHER : A clothes merchant. Sews her own merchandise and takes custom orders. Quite a spendthrift herself and enjoys going to parties and dancing. Had a brief start as a singer before an accident made her anxious of taking the centre stage.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED FAMILY: None

NAME MEANING/S: Thyme symbolizes courage and deep affection.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Probably a cooking book.

DEITY: Nophica

HOLIDAY: Starlight Celebration because she gets to give everyone she loves gifts.

MONTH: Whenever spring starts.

SEASON: Spring

PLACE: Her home.

WEATHER: Sunny and warm, not too cold and not too hot

SOUND / S: The voices of those she loves, crackling of fire, quills on parchment

SCENT / S: The smell of cooking or baking, especially cookies or stew; lilacs

TASTE / S: Sweet things, savoury things

FEEL / S: Warmth from fire, soft blankets, chocobo feathers

ANIMAL / S: D-does she have to choose? Hmm...otters!

NUMBER: 7!

COLORS: Green, especially mint green

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Cooking/baking, sports, mathematics, domestic chores

BAD AT: Being creative, managing money, saying “no”, controlling her emotions

TURN ONS: Kindness, loyalty, gentleness, perseverance

TURN OFFS: Sadism, choleric behaviour, anyone argumentative, violence

HOBBIES: Shopping, cooking/baking, domestic chores, sports

TROPES: Plucky Girl, The Reliable One, The Chosen One, Girly Bruiser, Honor Before Reason, Wide-Eyed Idealist, Skilled But Naive, Barrier Warrior, Martyr Without A Cause, The Fashionista, The Heart

QUOTES : “People only do bad things because they don’t have any other choice.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1: Hmm...she’s more likely to be a side character than a main character, but if she were a protagonist, the movie is probably going to be something about saving the animals or building a shelter or something ambitious like that.

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like? A2: A lot of pop and happy music. Q3: Why did you start writing this character? A3: Because I heard a song that inspired me to create a character with a personality somewhat like hers...and as I developed her more and thought of her more, Laurelis was born.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character? A4: Her enormous heart and contagious optimism.

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5: I too-often have second doubts wondering if she’s mary sue-ish or perfect. Q6: What do you have in common with your muse? A6: We’re both stupidly overemotional, though she’s definitely a more extreme version.

Q7: How does your muse feel about you? A7: I’m not sure. I guess she’d think I needed someone to cheer me up. Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8: Illya, a lalafell girl she met soon after coming to Eorzea. After numerous attempts from Laurelis’ side, they became friends, travelling together as the FFXIV story unfolded and become best friends. Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse? A9: Music. My love for her. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete? A10 : Much too long tbh.

#laurelis #character meme #ffxiv #miqote #mine #cm: of the silver lining

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escapingreality1992 · 6 years ago

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Bars and Hookups

Carol Danvers x OFC

“Lila? Hello? Lila!” a voice called out, a bit muffled as my attention was affixed elsewhere. There she is, standing with a group of people, laughing at someone’s joke most likely. The girl is a blonde with a slight wave to her hair; her eyes remind me of chocolate for they are a warm shade of brown. She’s taller than me, maybe by a few inches. This girl is beautiful. I imagine her laugh is beautiful, sweet as sugar. I don’t know for sure because I can’t hear it; she’s too far away.

“Will you stop staring? One of these days she’s going to see you and come over here. What are you planning on doing then? The same voice from earlier says.

“Huh?” I ask, my gaze still on her. A swift blow to my arm breaks my stare for a minute, my head swiveling to the person sitting across from me; now I remember that I’m hanging out with my friend, Sarah, a roommate from college. It also happens to be her birthday. Damn her for bringing me to this bar, I think to myself. When I agreed to this outing I hadn’t know we were coming to Haven, where she always comes…with the same group of people I’ve noticed her with.

Haven is quiet and cozy, the atmosphere always bringing good vibes. The interior is a cool shade of blue, reminiscent of the ocean in some ways, the wood paneling making it seem as if it were made out of driftwood. All the tables were black as midnight, the granite glimmering in the dim lighting. It was my favorite place to come if I wanted a drink and if I needed to cool off from work.

The first time I saw her was a few months ago when I desperately needed a relaxation from my stressful job, the bar drowned out as she walked in with a group of people, the same group of people she was in here with tonight; I was drawn to her, to the way she walked, the confidence oozing out of her. I couldn’t help but to think about what if she was mine to do as I pleased with her. Sarah had started coming with me a few weeks ago and had begun to notice how I’d sneak a peek in her direction, the infatuation brewing inside my aching heart. Now I was completely ignoring my friend, the guilt getting to me.

“I’m sorry. Guess I’m a bit distracted,” I manage to say, resisting looking back over at that woman. I don’t know her name but I’d like to; I wanted to hear her say it, wanted to hear her voice; those rosy pink lips were a favorite thing of mine, my gaze always drifting down to. The people she came in with were easily recognized as the Avengers but I wasn’t sure which ones, except of course Tony Stark, his face constantly plastered everywhere before he saved the world during the battle of New York. The other ones were girls- a redhead with a curly bob, green eyes and the other a brunette, the same color eyes as the redhead-and I secretly prayed that the other three weren’t in relationship with my crush.

“Lila! You’re not even looking at her and yet you’re still daydreaming about her. A bit distracted? I think you might be a lot distracted,” Sarah commented, sipping her dirty martini.

“Sorry…” I mumbled, picking at my fingers, ashamed of ignoring her. I decided to take one last peek at her…and found her staring right at me; she caught me. Shit. She’ll probably think I’m a weirdo, I thought, whipping my head back around, focusing on my friend.

“Uh oh. I think she saw you. Remember how I said she might come over here? Well…that’s exactly what she’s doing,” Sarah remarked. My body went rigid, my heart hammering in my chest, nerves spiking afraid of what was about to happen. The woman in question approached our table, standing in between my friend and me, hands on her hips, one jutting out to her right side.

“Hi, my name’s Carol. I couldn’t help but that notice you were looking at me and I wanted to come over here to introduce myself. What’s your name pretty girl?” She greeted me, a smile on her face. I was at a lost for words, the reality of the woman I’d come to admire actually talking to me. I opened my mouth to speak, still no words coming out, my nerves taking over my senses.

“Lila. Her name is Lila,” Sarah answered for me.

“Nice to meet you Lila. I’ve seen you in here a couple of times before but you’re usually alone. What’s the occasion? Are you on a date?” Carol continued, her smile widening.

“No, no. We’re not dating. We’re here celebrating my birthday. I invited her out for drinks and I hadn’t been here in quite some time,” Sarah replied, when I still could form no words, no voice.

“Well, birthday girl, would it be terrible for me to buy your friend here a drink? Mind if my friends and I join you?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I insist you join us. It’s kind of fun seeing her speechless for once,” Sarah said, nudging my leg under the table with her boot.

“Perfect. I’ll be right back with my friends,” Carol stated, leaving the table. As soon as she was out of earshot and out of view, I kicked Sarah in the shin, making her curse and shoot me a glare.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? I can’t talk to her much less be around her. She probably thinks I’m a weirdo,” I snapped at her.

“Weirdo, no. I do think you’re super cute though,” Carol’s voice penetrated my ears. Fuck, she’s quick, I thought, trying my best to fake a smile.

“So, anyway, this is Steve, Wanda, Natasha and I have no doubt you know this is Tony Stark. Guys, this is Lila and…sorry, I didn’t get your name,” She continued, pointing to Sarah and me after gesturing to her friends as she introduced them.

“I’m Sarah. Please, join us,” Sarah stated.

“Have a seat and I’ll be back with another…Bloody Mary for Miss Lila,” Carol remarked, making a note of my drink of choice.

“Extra spicy,” I choked out, receiving thumbs up from her.

“Finally! She speaks,” Sarah said, clapping her hands in a mocking fashion.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, playing with my straw.

“Danvers told us it’s your birthday. What better way to spend it than with the Avengers? At least with the ones that are here right now,” Tony stated, slinging an arm over both our shoulders.

“Hey, Stark! Paws off my Lila,” Carol snapped, returning with my drink and one for her as well. Setting them down, she pulled up a couple of chairs, the rest of her party gathering around us. Draping an arm around me, she held me close, shooting dagger eyes at Tony.

“Uh, Danvers. I don’t think she’s really yours,” Steve stated, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the back of his chair.

“Not yet anyway,” She shot back, kissing my cheek. I stood up abruptly, excusing myself to go to the bathroom, embarrassment flooding my entire body. Entering a stall, I sat down on the toilet, angry tears springing to my eyes.

How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to get caught? Now I’m being flirted with and being humiliated by friend in front of her, I thought to myself. The sobs racked my body, my hands gripping my hair behind my ears.

“Lila? Are you all right? You’ve been gone a long time. Carol and Sarah are worried about you,” a voice called out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I blurted out, pulling out some toilet paper, dabbing at my face, wiping off any evidence I had been crying. Unlocking the door, I strode out, coming face-to-face with the woman whose name was Wanda.

“You don’t look okay. What’s wrong? Did Carol come on too strong?” She asked me.

“It’s nothing. I think I’m going home. I’m not feeling too well,” I replied, washing my face with a wet paper towel, cleaning up the makeup from where it ran while I was crying. Peeking outside, I made sure the people at my table weren’t looking, planning my exit from the bar.

“She likes you by the way. She has been watching you the whole night. You’re the first person she looks for when we come here. You shouldn’t leave. I know it might make you scared but come have fun with us. Tell her to back off a little if she’s flirting too much. Don’t go Lila,” Wanda stated, freezing me mid-step.

“I can’t. Not with Sarah humiliating me in front of her. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I told her before ducking out the front door. I had driven by myself, no worries about Sarah getting stranded at the bar. I wouldn’t step foot in Haven again, not until a couple of weeks later when work got be too much.

Three Weeks Later

At work things had gotten stressful and it seemed like I couldn’t do anything right. Some people didn’t want to bother working or being slack on the cleaning, nothing positive coming out of anyone’s mouths; I really wanted to snap back at those who aggravated me. I desperately wanted a break and after a few hours spent pacing around my apartment debating on going to Haven, I gave in to driving to the bar hoping I would see her; I wanted to see Carol.

I wanted to get out my frustration and the only thing I could think of was to tear off all of her clothes and fuck her until the sun rose high in the sky. Thank goodness I lived only 15 minutes away from that bar and today is a Friday; no work on the weekends. I parked my light blue sedan, getting out and stalked up to the front entrance, pulling open the large wooden door. Scanning the crowd, I spotted Carol with the same group of friends, laughing and having a good time at a table in the back of the bar. She was wearing a brown leather jacket, a black shirt and dark blue jeans, black boots to match; it was a magnificent site. My nervousness spiked knowing what I was about to do wasn’t a thing I’m known to do.

Breathe, Lila. Go make her yours, I thought, taking a deep breath and straightening my back and marching through the sea of people toward their table. Her eyes flickered to me, eyes wide with surprise; she didn’t a chance to speak as my lips smashed against hers, my hands grasping a handful of her soft, blonde hair, yanking her body to mine. At first, I thought she had changed her mind about me, her lips immobile as I kissed her; that was true until her arms secured my body to hers, those plump, pink lips capturing mine in a rough, longing second kiss. Someone cleared his or her throat, breaking us apart for a moment.

“Are you going to join us or…?” the voice belonging to Tony asked, gesturing to the table in front of us.

“I’m sorry, but no. I must steal Carol away for the rest of the night. There…are things I want to do to her. Things I should have been bold enough to do earlier,” I replied. His eyebrows raised and his mouth gaped open, the implication of what I wanted to do extremely clear in his expression. I grabbed Carol’s hand, tugging her to the entrance of the bar, exiting to my car in order to take her home.

At my apartment building, I parked and led her up to my apartment door, unlocking it to usher her inside. Closing the door and locking it behind us, I turned to face her, my lips connecting once again to hers, both hands now interlaced in all of her hair.

She backed me up against the door, my back slamming into it hard but I didn’t care. I wanted her, needed her now. I moved my hands down to her jacket, pushing it off of her, the material hitting the floor, her shoulders bare against my skin, the shirt being a tank top underneath that jacket. She lifted me so I could wrap my legs around her waist, her lips moving down to my neck; I tilted my head back at the contact, her lips sucking on my sweet spot.

“Where’s your bedroom?” she asked, mid-kiss, returning back for more, her hands slipping under my periwinkle blue shirt, warm hands cupping my breast still in the bra I was wearing.

“In the back room down the hallway,” I answered, moaning as she had pulled down one cup of my bra and brushed her thumb across my nipple; it hardened at her marvelous touch. She carried back to the bedroom, laying me down on the mattress, removing my shirt from my body, ripping the front of the bra freeing my breasts. The cool air of the air conditioning, hardened my nipples even more, prompting her to press her mouth to one; the hot saliva and the way she swirled her tongue around it causing me to arch my back. She pinched and twisted the other one, my hands clinging to her shoulders, nails digging into her supple skin. From my breast, she trailed a line of kisses down my stomach, that soft hair making me shiver in anticipation as she unbuttoned my jean shorts, pulling them off, leaving my panties on, not quite ready to have me naked in front of her.

She lifted me up to remove the remaining remnants of my bra, returning her lips to mine, one hand sliding underneath the silky fabric of my panties and stroking a finger against my core until she inserted one finger inside my body. My hands ventured to her tank top hem and I shifted it upwards, her movements pausing to let me take it off her, unhooking her bra and tossing to the side. I unbuttoned her jeans, yanking them down along with her underwear, while she decided to take mine off, tired of the fabric getting in the way of her touch.

I moaned as she inserted two more fingers, stretching me. Faster she went as she pumped them in and out of me, bringing me to climax, drenching her fingers; a loud moan from me echoed around the room.

“I love that sound from you. I’m going to make you come again just to hear it one more time. Or maybe I’ll make you come over and over so that it never ends,” she told me, replacing her fingers with her mouth. My hips bucked, my legs spreading further apart as my hands clenched at the sheets. She sucked on me, her tongue lapping at my juices; tiny moans escaping my lips, crying out her name as she made me come again.

“You’re as delicious as you look,” Carol stated, licking her lips. I growled in delight and flipped her over onto her back, my turn to make her orgasm.

“I’d like to taste you to see if you’re as scrumptious as you appear to be,” I commented, trailing kisses of my own to her core, spreading her and pinning her legs to the mattress so she wouldn’t escape the pleasure I was prepared to give her.

“Lila, fuck! Keep…going. You’re…fantastic…with…your tongue. Lila!” she called out in between breathy moans, as I brought her to climax inside my mouth. She did indeed taste fantastic, her appearance definitely matching with it. We played with each other, our touches and kisses continuing until we were exhausted, sweaty, coming to cuddle right as the sun began to rise. We had opened the blinds to watch it, her body pressed up behind me, her blonde hair fanning out against the pillow.

“It’s stunning, like you,” she stated, kissing my neck, snuggling closer if that was even possible. Turning to face her, I kissed her lips, a sweet moment compared to what we had been doing throughout the night.

“I’d like to take you out on a proper date. I like you. A lot. Tonight I was frustrated because of my job and I’d like this to be more than what it seems. What do you say? Want to go out with me tomorrow night?” I told her, receiving a nod from her.

“I’d like that very much. I’ve been crushing on you ever since the first night I stepped in that bar,” she said, caressing my cheek and kissing me for a final time; we both fell asleep in each other’s arms the beginning of a very special relationship.

#marvel #captain marvel #carol danvers #carol x oc #carol danvers x oc #love #smut #tony stark #captain america #avengers #steve rogers #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch

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cutiecrates · 6 years ago

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Cutie Reviews: YumeTwins March 19

Okay, so here I am with the real March YumeTwins box.

This months theme: Spring Companions

“The cold and harsh Winter Season is drawing to a close and Spring is coming! There’s so many things we love about Spring here at YumeTwins, like the fresh buds and flowers appearing and of course all the cute baby animals that are born in Springtime! But the absolute best part of Spring in Japan is the Cherry Blossom or Sakura! There’s nothing more we love than to sit under the Cherry Blossoms and have a picnic, if you have the chance to no matter where you are in the world you should try too! To get everyone excited for Spring we decided to go with the theme Spring Companions for March’s box! In this Spring Companions box you’ll find a couple of kawaii fluffy companions as well as some more useful companions with lots of pastel and vivid Spring colors, so we hope you’ll enjoy them!“

Contest Prize

Yume Prize

Disney Dreamy Plushie

Our first item is this really cute, fluffy plushie of Marie, from Arisocats (an older Disney movie, which I LOVED when I was a child). Besides Marie we could also get Dumbo, Minnie Mouse, and Miss Bunny (the girl bunny from bambi, she is extremely popular in Japan). Each character features a lovely pastel color scheme and adorable flowers, pearls, and/or star accents.

Marie is also my favorite Disney character, along with Minnie Mouse and Piglet. So I was very happy to see/get her, although the Minnie Mouse was pink so I this would have been my second choice.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Well we all know how much I like plushies and stuffed dolls/toys, especially when they’re huggable and soft~ This one is perfect with that in mind, it’s shape fitting right in my arms for full snuggles~

Besides that, the detail on this is really nice. Not only does it add to the dreamy aesthetic, but its done very cleanly. I just wish there was a little bit more, like maybe they could have added a few tiny stars/flowers or more pearls? It’s only a suggestion though, I still think they’re plenty cute.

I did notice a few tiny little minuscule details that bothered me though. Such as the fact they collect hair and whatever else like nobody’s business. Besides that, they also have that obnoxious seam around the middle, the one where the material is a lot thinner and stands out in comparison to the rest of the plush? I also found a few small loose yarn strands...

Anyway, none of this changes how much I like the plush. The yarns can be fixed, it won’t be hard to keep it cleaned. It’s so sweet and even though it is essentially just a head, I think it’s very nice.

Animal Face Pouch

Our next equally fluffy cuteness is this pouch, shaped like a bear, puppy, or cats head; in 7 different styles! They each have a different leather strap color and inside patterned fabric; like my bear, who has a pink dot print.

Besides being a great, small size to fit into objects, you can also attach it to your bag or items if you lack room, or even carry it around your wrist or a strap.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

As many pouches as I have now because of these boxes, I think this one would be one of my top favorites. It’s very fluffy and cuddly-soft, and very cute too. I love how versatile it is and it’s pretty fun, using it as a hand held purse one day to a purse accessory the next. It has decent room on the inside for being a smaller pouch, and it’s very light weight.

Cutesy Organizer Folder

If you’re a long-time reader of this blog then you will probably recognize this design; if you’re new though, then welcome :D this design/pattern is on a Tuxedo Sam cup I got (From a YumeTwins box like a year ago), and still use now.

Besides this adorable design, there is also 2 different Kirby, and a Pompompurin available.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

As much as I complain about getting these (due to my belief I no longer need them), I will acknowledge that they are useful- and I’m sure at some point I will need something to put important documents in, or just letters, pictures, coloring pages, or drawings I want to save and have no where else to put them.

Anyway, I love how this matches my cup, even if I realistically wouldn’t have a reason to put them together. So as you can probably tell it is bent, but at the same time I’ve been feeling this material and it’s a lot less stiff than my other files have been. I can’t really explain it but it feels really nice.

Kawaii Key Holder

Our next item is this key holder, which was available in 5 different colors and themes: this brown Rilakkuma, a pink and white Korilakkuma, 2 Sumikko Gurashi (one light blue, one light green), and a yellow gudetama.

The key holder has two clips, one for each key, as well as a two other loops to connect it to various things. The string is 65cm long.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

At the time I don’t personally have keys of my own (I can’t be the only one right?? I know I probably should...), but I still think this is a cute and creative item. It could also be used for other things though, and it also just makes a cute accessory.

Disney Highlighter Pen

Our next item is this cutesy double-sided highlighter featuring black and white drawings of Disney pairs; like this pink and purple one features Donald and Daisy. There was also a lime and peach one featuring Mickey and Minnie, and a blue and yellow Chip and Dale one. There are 2 other sets but they’re not in the picture.

With that in mind... I’m not a big Daisy fan and I love Minnie Mouse, so I kind of wish I got that one. But I prefer the colors on this one, so I’m not really sure which one I would have wanted if I got the choice...

This is how they look when used. They’re brighter than they look on here/in the pic though.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It’s small and smooth shape makes it easy to carry in a variety of items, and highlighters can be pretty handy, so I like how it’s dual sided rather than being several separates.The quality of the highlighter is great, and I like the color contrast to the black and white design.

Tumbler Set

Our final item is this 3-set of Tumbler cups, available in either a cute pastel Rilakkuma theme, or a colorful and bright Splatoon theme (oddly enough both sets feature the same base colors but different tones, and come with yellow straws). These Tumblers come in the shape of a fast-food cup with 3 included plastic, re-usable straws, and when not being used, the cups and lids can be stacked to take up less storage space.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I like Splatoon and Rilakkuma, so I would have been fine with either set. I have a bunch of lidded cups I really like to use, but I always love to add to my “collection“ so I really like these :3 the designs are unique and very fun to look at, and they seem to be really sturdy so I feel like unless you’re really careless it shouldn’t be that easy to spill using them.

I also like that you get a set of 3, so you could easily share these.

♡ Cutie Ranking ♡

Content - 4.5 out of 5. I don’t sound super-ecstatic or anything, but I actually really, really liked these items. As usual, I feel like half of it will be useful to me, while the other half might not be (for now), but I felt like all of the items are really nice quality and well thought out.

Theme: 4 out of 5. The theme is Spring Companions, and yes, I’d say in that sense these items greatly count as a companion, as you would bring them with you. But when I think spring, besides pretty pastels I think flowers play a pretty big role and I kind of wish they would have included more flowery items.

Total Rank: 9 out of 10. Like I said, I’m not 100% sold on how they carried out the theme but I do really like the items, and they offer a lot of practicality. I don’t know if I’m a bit biased because of how disgruntled the last box left me, or if I really just like this one that much more.

♡ Cutie Scale ♡

1. Animal Pouch - It’s so ultra-fluffy, I just want to cuddle it~

2. Disney Plushie - I love how soft it is, and it’s dreamy inspired design and detail is very pretty~

3. Highlighter Pen - I mentioned this above, but I really like how the white and black tube contrast the colorful ink. It’s very fun to look at.

4. Tumbler Set - I love how the bright colors contrast the rest of the items, and who doesn’t like Splatoon? I love how you get a set of them, and I like how we have 2 stylish designs based on the game, and a cutesy one covered in adorable colorful squid~

5. Key Holder - I like all the metal bits on it :3 I also think this would be a lot of fun to wear as an accessory until I actually find a more practical use with it.

6. Organizer File - This one is really cute, but out of all the items I feel like this one would either get no use, or very little use.

#yumetwins #sanrio #Disney #minnie mouse #splatoon cups #rilakkuma #marie arisocats

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ultrabigbootyjudy · 6 years ago

Text

Pride and Prejudice JJK AU

Pairing - Jeon Jungkook

Genre - Fluff

Word Count - 4.1k

Mistakes - Many :)

CHARACTER LIST (Just incase x)

Elizabeth Bennett - Y/N

Jane Bennett - Park Jimin

Lydia Bennett - Kim Taehyung

Kitty Bennett - Jung Hoseok

Mary Bennett - Kim Namjoon (our lord and saviour)

Mr. Bingley - Min Yoongi

Mr. Darcy - Jeon Jungkook

Miss Bingley - Jennie from Black Pink

Mr Wickham - Kim Seokjin

Charlotte Lucas - Chan from Stray Kids

————

The dusty morning light billowed breezily through the open window, followed closely by the chirping and squawking of bird’s morning songs. The soft movements of songs rivalled that of even Beethoven’s pieces. Though they were truly beautiful to the ear, day after day they signalled the turn and start of a new chapter, I couldn’t help but want to skim over the chapters prior however. Gently rubbing underneath my eyes I squinted into the light. The harsh yellow sun poured onto my face and into my eyes, casting a golden glow onto my skin. A soft chill had crept into the house during our sleep. I sat up in my shared four poster bed, the length of my messy and strewn hair tumbling forwards from its resting place to lay behind my back in long looping cascades. Softly grazing my hands over my face, I turned to Jimin, my elder brother, sleeping beside me peacefully. A hand laid daintily over his doll like features as he blocked the light seeping ever closer.

Sliding to the edge of the bed I felt the dense and scratchy mattress pull at my night dress, lifting it up to my thighs. Once I stood, I smoothed the silky and crumpled folds down, so it fell at just above my ankles in a soft stirring motion. The fabric tickled my heels in a pleasant way, the way in which soft fabric ran against skin to create a soothing motion. Like water wrapping around one’s body. Even though it was a pleasant feeling having it at my ankles, I do wish it was longer, not paid for long ago and only slightly fitting. The dress laid out before me flowed in a similar way, just longer.

My clothes had been routinely laid out every night before I slept, they were where I put them exactly and had been untouched until I pulled them on. First my undergarments, then the slightly constricting cages of my corset followed by the bodice and petticoat. All in a pale creamy colour close to churned butter, the hem of the petticoat however was stained slightly from days spent traipsing around with my brothers. The same stained effect matched with my worn boots and socks which I pulled on as quietly as possible, fighting against the constraint of my corset. Oh, how I loathed the cursed thing.

Once I had successfully tied my shoes into neat bows, I turned around to gaze upon our small, russet coloured and boxy mirror hanging off of the equally old rusty nail. I can remember clearly the day when my father himself had put it there, but back then it was not rusty, and our family numbers had no swelled so much. Raking through my tangled and frayed hair with my thin, calloused fingers. Then hastily, I proceeded it into a loose hanging braid. An old, ripped and blue ribbon dangling like and afterthought from my hair. Behind me Jimin stirred in a disorientated fashion, rustling around in our pale sheets. Feebily attempting to find a space in the bed void of the glowing sunlight. I turn away from the mirror a smile pressed to my blush colour lips, and silently slid our thin curtains to a close.

From there I picked up a worn and well-loved book, its once green covered a murky brown hue, the corners of the hard cover peeling and chipped beyond repair. Inside the pages were yellow and thinner than a bee wing, tearing at the slightest touch. This book, I was gentle with it, extremely so. I ran my hand along the spine of it before opening it. Pages falling sidewards, parting the book to where the dusty red ribbon I used as a book mark lay. My index finger ran along the page as I followed the words. They were as light as my feet on the dusty wooden floor as I walked out of my family’s home. Even, with the boards in their current state.

I was immediately met with the aromatic sent of the morning country side, dewy, glistening grass. Blooming, beautiful bellflowers Jimin had lovingly planted last spring sprung forth from said grass in vibrant bursts of lilac, violet and lace. Contrasting heavily against the uniform shades of the grass near the house. The flowers had grown past the edge of our house and into the thicker grass. Hiding amongst the tufts of eggshell coloured grass which had grown up to my middle thigh. Its coarse and dry touch scraping at my dress as I walked out along it. To me, it was a surprise it was so dry unlike the ground it spewed forth from which squelched and squirmed beneath one’s foot.

I walked for a short while, down the back of the overgrown muddy road our house and property curved around and back. The walk to the end and back was enough to satisfy my needs, the need to be freshened and ready for the day. On days like this, when the sun bloomed amongst the feathery lace of clouds, I would often walk. Many a time I would find myself in the company of my brothers as we embarked on adventures through the woods not far from here or we’d travel to the town. Taehyung was always in ‘need’ of new ribbons, fancy cravats or an added piece of lace on his clothes, Hoseok followed his every example. The pair of them bled both mine and Jimin’s coffers. Those days, they were my favourite, they were the best, they were everything. My family was everything to me, no matter how bizarre un-reputable they were.

It seemed most days there was always something strange to talk about, something to plot or something to cry over. Most of the plotting I left to my mother, she always had some idea in her head and did not shy from voicing these opinions. My mother was a very vocal person. I hadn’t even stepped back inside, and I could already hear her shrill of a voice through the green, peeling door left ajar. Smiling to myself I tucked my book under my arm and went to investigate.

Today she was particularly animated with her speech. Taehyung and Hoseok quite literally squealed whilst listening beside the door as their parents’ conversations drifted forth. Jimin sat on the stairs, his hair combed back neatly in a swath of black tresses. He smiled ever so politely in the inviting way he always did. He wore brown coloured slacks and a loose-fitting white shirt which had gone cream over the years of use. A patch of pink and white lace sewn daintily into the collar to cover a large stain. I remember that day, I was the one to sew it into the fabric lovingly. Sitting beside him, I stretched my legs out. Mud caked onto my shoes and up my socks. “What is it this time brother?”

“A wealthy man has bought Netherfield,” Jimin smiled excitedly, “Mother said he earned 4,000 pounds a year ($2,607,755 Australian Dollars today x).”

“What’s the gentleman’s name?”

“Mr. Bingley!” Hoseok and Tae swooned, fanning their faces with their hands. I smiled softly whilst also rolling my eyes, the action is un-lady like, I am fully aware of that. I do it anyway, it seems the best gesture in the situation anyway. Resting my head on Jimin’s slight shoulders I sigh. Mother’s voice was raised so even from this distance where I sat on the stairs, I could hear her;

“Mr. Bennet! You must have a word with this Mr. Bingley!”

Jimin’s shoulders quaked slightly from laughter, his eyes curling into half-moon’s and lips open as the soft sound escaped them. He was truly handsome, in fact all of my brothers were. I was proud to have them as brothers. Even if they were acting in the most bizarre of fashions. Taehyung and Hoseok tripping forwards as father opened the door to his study. They both blushed and looked on with wide unbecoming eyes, wanting to devour any information they could.

I sat on my bed the warm ochre evening light drifting through the open window as the sun drifted ever further from us and the snowy orb of the moon drew ever closer. The light cast a beautiful tone upon Jimin and I’s skin. Jimin sat on a plain wooden stool in front of our vanity, his hands in his lap. I stood above him, my hands running through the locks with a fraying brush. Gently I pushed them away from his forehead, pinning small flowers through its lengths. Resting my hand on his shoulder I nodded. Admiring how the flowers busted through his thick black hair in pale colours, contrasting heavily with their background.

“Good?” I queried to which Jimin simply nodded and stood. Our places exchanged and his hands running through my already braided hair. I myself had braided it as I had a knack for the task. Jimin opened a small box on our dresser revealing a set of beautiful pearls. He ran his finger along it before fastening them across my hair. Each loop, twirl and twizzle of hair adorned by a perfect pearl. As they were behind my head, I could not see them, I trusted Jimin however, to make them look perfect. Jimin smiled, following my previous actions.

With a hand on his shoulder he mimicked; “Good?”

“Excellent,” I smiled, one of my smaller hands resting atop of his still dainty hand. The cuff of Jimin’s shirt resting against my skin, a small copper coloured cufflink cool on my warm skin. He wore matching earrings, a simple copper stud holding onto a blue gem. An equally beautiful necklace hung from his swan like neck. They were family heirlooms, from a past generation, a past life and a past living. With our current living we could barely afford ribbons for our brothers and ourselves. Life wasn’t filled with the pleasantry money brought, that hole was filled with family pride. “What are you going to wear Jimin?” I smiled, swivelling around on the chair.

Jimin smiled and turned to the chair to reveal the final parts of his ensemble, they were his most expensive items. An old green cravat that was fraying from being worn so often and a smooth, boned corset that synched his already tiny waist. He held them up and cocked his head to the side. I nodded in acceptance at his taste. Jimin had already helped me pick the dress I wore currently so I knew it was to his liking.

Once we had finished dressing the sun was touching the horizon, laying lazily upon the grassy British fields. It was truly mesmerising. Our ride to the venue was spent with small jokes and happy moments filled with awestriking scenery. Taehyung and Hoseok didn’t stop with their incessant speaking, their chattering filling the silent space between other words. Mrs. Bennet only added more fuel to the already raging fire by adding her own voice.

I think both our father Jimin and I were glad to be rid of them for a short while once we had entered the ball. It had already started yet no dancing had began. A slow waltz playing mournfully in the background. The tempo slow and reflective, it merged perfect with the ambient chatter. “There are so many people,” I remarked.

“Mm,” Jimin smiled gazing at the crowd. He stood beside her at just a short bit taller than her. “I think they’re going to start the dancing. I know we’re siblings, but would you dance with me Y/N?”

“Anything for my eldest and most tolerable sibling,” I smiled offering my hand which he took. Bowing comically, it resulted in my cheeks to swirl with a colour close to Amaranth. I covered my smile with my hand as we took up our places. Jimin stood opposite me in a row of mixed males and females of varying heights and builds. I stood in a similar unisex row, though a lot of my row were made of more timid and shy people. Smiling I curtsied as Jimin bowed to me both of us swooping low in an elegant and formal action. Once we had regained our balance in unison with those around us the dance began.

Skirts swirled and twirled gracefully, and cravats clouded out in elegance as the dance took up its bounding tempo. Music and clapping filled the room enhanced by the thundering of footsteps. I let out a less than ladylike laugh my head tipping back with strands of hair. The strands fell behind me like my brothers’ ribbons on a windy day. Every step of the dance set a rush of exhilaration forth and a new stretch on my smile. Like all good things though it must come to an end, the music slowed and then all together came to a halt. Jimin and I smiling as we curtsied and bowed.

I was coming back up from curtsying when a quiet hush filled the room, even the music stopped in an eerie way. Standing up I turned my head, one loose strand of hair trailing against the crook of my neck in a well-groomed curl. My lips parted slightly as I took in the view. The crowd surveyed the newcomers, though by now everyone had seemed to piece them together with the rumours and gossip as I had too in some ways. Mr Yoongi Bingley stood shorter than the other male he was stood beside. A small smile to his face as he stood before everyone, a little overwhelmed by the silence. His black hair neatly trimmed, like the taller more muscular male beside him. He seemed to be unperplexed by the attention, staring out blankly at the crowd. “He’s handsome,” Jimin stood beside me taking my arm. I rested my hand on Jimin’s arm and nodded.

“Which one?”

“Mr Bingley of course, though his friend isn’t too bad either,” Jimin laughed softly under his breath. I snorted, my hand covering my mouth as I laughed at Jimin’s remark. I’m sure I received some looks for my most unbecoming mannerisms.

“Jimin Bennet,” My mother scolded, loudly. Luckily the music had started again. Her high-pitched voice drowned out. “That isn’t just any man, that’s Mr. Jungkook Darcy. He owns half of Derbyshire!”

“It must be the sad half of Derbyshire,” I remarked. Beside me Chan Lucas laughed softly shaking his head. His black hair being tossed around. His head nodding in agreement at the rich males’ mannerisms.

“Mr Bennet!” Mother waved, running after her husband. Jimin and I in tow. Her flat feet hitting on the wooden floors loudly and her skirts flying up ever so slightly. She was in a hurry, for what we still didn’t have a clue. Mother was always scheming, sometimes I thought our father was in on it too. “You must introduce the children to Mr Bingley!” She cried to which our fathers only response was to sigh. Beside him Namjoon frowned, not at all interested with the idea, Hoseok and Taehyung squealed.

Standing between the youngest two I pinched them both; “Behave.” I instructed them. They must have not realised how easily they could get carried away when in each other’s company. Which was most days. In unison they straightened their backs and plastered on a contempt smile. Though Hoseok had difficulty maintaining it. Namjoon was the opposite his face blank and unimpressed. The only reason we had coaxed him out tonight was because of the promise of a piano forte. His fingers itched to play it.

“Mr Bingley,” Our mother waved at the male which was becoming swarmed by young ladies and men. He smiled at us, his pink lips peeling back slightly to reveal smooth white teeth and pink gum. The gesture itself was adorable.

“Hel-,”

“I’m Mrs. Bennet,” she smiled. Cutting him off completely as she kept talking. “This is Jimin our eldest.” Jimin blushed slightly dipping into a dainty bow and nodding in Mr. Bingley’s direction. Bingley’s eyes lingering for just a bit too long on the small male. They were around the same height. “Y/N,” Mother said waving her hand absentmindedly to me. I curtsied a pleasant smile on my closed lips. I surveyed Mr Bingley who smiled back at me and then Mr. Darcy who still had a blank expression on his face. “Taehyung and Hoseok,” Taehyung with a surprising amount of dignity bowed. Hoseok squealed, to which I grabbed a portion of skin on his arm and pinched him. When Namjoon was introduce he bowed silently. Beside the two males Jennie Bingley, Mr. Bingley’s sister, stood haughtily staring at each of the girl’s ensembles with an upturned nose and a straight lips expression.

The next family cut them out even as Mr Bingley watched Jimin leave with the rest of the family. I was the only exception, Chan Lucas pulling me from the fray easily. He wore a white shirt with yellow laced cuffs, olive-green corset and burgundy slacks, a black dress jacket thrown over his shoulders. Wordlessly his fingers enter twined themselves within my own as he dragged me away from the rest of the ball to a table at the farthest edges in dim lighting. I hardly noticed it was there myself.

“Chan,” I smiled greeting him. His eyes crinkling as he smiled. “How are you dearest?” I asked politely.

“Pleasant,” He yawned and leant forwards on the table. His elbow resting against the cream table cloths. “So, which one of these painted peacocks is Mr. Bingley?”

“He’s on the right, and the woman is his sister,” I said, cocking my head in their direction. My eyes never once leaving Chan.

“And the person with the disagreeable expression?”

“That’s his good friend Mr. Darcy, the poor soul,” I laughed.

Chan seemed to know the name; “On the contrary dearest Gracie, if he is Mr. Darcy then he owns half of Derbyshire and earns at least ten thousand pounds a year ($2,978,749.70).”

I stood beside my brother in a small group consisting of a few familiar faces, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy and Jennie Bingley. Jimin, ever faithful stood beside me. “How do you like it here Mr Bingley?”

“Very much,” he smiled. His eyes not wandering far from the blushing Jimin who stood playing with the hem of his collar.

“I’ve heard that the library in Netherfeild is one of the best in the country,” I smile.

“Mm, I’m filled with guilt over it,” A blush covered his pale neck as he watched Jimin, “I’m not a good reader you see.”

Jennie steps forwards as the blush threatens to creep further across Mr Bingley’s skin. She put’s and arm on her brothers. “Mr. Darcy your library at Pemberley is astonishingly filled is it not?”

“It is the work of generations,” Mr. Darcy says monotonously.

“You have added so much to it,” Mr Bingley complemented him. Turning his gaze away from Jimin, it seems he hadn’t really stopped looking at my brother. I found it sweet, Jimin had that effect on many men and women alike, my brother was a natural charismatic.

“I wish I read more, but there is always so much to do,” Smiled Jimin.

“As do I,” Mr Bingley nodded. Turning back to Jimin, Mr. Bingley held out his hand, his skin pale and smooth. As he dipped low so too did his hair, dipping low on his forehead, hanging at his straight brows. “May I have the honour?” Jimin said not a word, his voice spoke in actions. He placed his smaller hand in Mr. Bingley’s. The older male bringing him to where the dancing began.

“Do you dance Mr. Darcy?” I queried, watching Mr. Bingley and my brother dance together.

“Not if I can help it,” Mr. Darcy replied, the conversation no having nowhere left to turn. We were left in hazy silence listening to those around us. Women and men were locked in conversation, exchanging pleasantries with one another. I listened contently to the conversations, until Hoseok and Taehyung wandered past screaming about officers as walked away from Mr. Darcy.

Taehyung was scheming about how to talk to them, giving Hoseok ‘advice’ to woo them. I shook my head, my index fingers pressed to the side of my nose as I listen to them shrill. “I dear say you have some of the silliest brothers I have met, dearest Gracie,” Chan smiled. He held his arm out for me which I took.

“Don’t I just?” Chan and I turned away from the rest of the festivities. We stood behind a lavish marble pillar decorated with iron leaves curling around it. The old metal a shade of jade green from age. I was almost tempted to lean against it due to fatigue, the night had only just begun though. Instead I stood beside it fiddling with one of the metal leaves as Chan and I conversed. His voice soft and happy, always glad to see me. We had been friends for what felt like centuries now. In actual fact it had been twenty years, the pair childhood friends.

Chan stopped talking as he spied Mr. Bingley walking along the outer rim of the crowd. Gently he pushed me aside, the marble pillar obscuring me from vision as we listened into the passing conversation. I couldn’t help but bite my already pink lip.

“Oh, he is the most beautiful creature I have ever met!” Mr Bingley exclaimed happily. I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell for my brother out of family pride. A large toothy smile brimming forth. “Her sister Elizabeth is very agreeable too,”

“Perfectly tolerable, but not nearly pretty enough to tempt me.” My smile fell, just like the elated feeling in my stomach did too. Everything dropped, my stomach was at my feet and it felt as if the sides of my lips were at my collars, my eyes trained to Chan’s shoes. I shook my head, the rudeness of that man! How could anyone be so rude? I had never been insulted in such a way before and it angered me greatly, but mostly I was upset.

“Ignore him, Lizzie, he is such a disagreeable man it would be a misfortune to be liked by him.”

“I would not dance with him for even half of Derbyshire,”

“Let alone the miserable side,” Chan quipped in mischievously causing the mood to lift. We stifled our laughter.

Later on, I found myself back in the company of the despised Mr. Darcy. His companion Mr. Bingley and my mother. Bingley had just finished dancing with Chan, my friend already finding another partner to dance with. He had no trouble attracting attention with his wit, poise and elegance. I do hope someone would offer for his hand in matrimony, he would make a lovely husband. ‘Twas a shame however, the hole time Bingley danced alongside Chan his eyes were on my brother. He had clearly fallen for Jimin as many men had before. “Your friend is quite amusing Miss Bennet,”

“Indeed,” I laughed, “I adore him -,”

“It’s a pity he isn’t more handsome,” Mother added, patting me on the arm.

“Mama!” I protested. Jimin who had joined us gave a confused look unsure as to why I had cried out.

“Y/N will never admit he’s plain,” Mother turned to Mr. Bingley; “Of course it’s my Jimin who is considered the beauty of the country,”

Jimin sighed; “Mama, please,”

“When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman so much in love with her that I was sure he would make her an offer. However, he did write her some very pretty verses.” Jimin blushed brightly shaking her head out of embarrassment. Though all the Bennet siblings loved their mother dearly they detested her lack of empathy in social situations such as these.

“And so, their relationship ended. I wonder who first discovered poetry drove love away?” I smiled, trying my best to change the conversation away from the startled Jimin.

“I thought that poetry was the food of love?” Darcy raised a brow to me.

“If it’s a strong love it may. It nourishes what is strong already. But if it is only a thin, slight sort of inclination, I'm convinced that one good sonnet will starve it away entirely.” I spoke. Mr Darcy looked towards me, his features changed rather than that of distain, unpatinated and uninterested he seemed, well, interested.

“What would one recommend then?”

“Oh, dancing of course,” I smiled, “Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#bts #bts v #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts rm #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts suga #bts jin #bts jhope #bts au #pride and prejudice #jungkook x reader #pride and prejudice au

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randomoranges · 6 years ago

Note

this au ticket can be redeemed for Any au that includes nedward deadward but he has to smile in it

absolutely, friend.

also it came to my attention yesterday that there is a lack of ét swooning over motorcycle ed. i had to remedy the situation.

advent calendar part 29

Day 23

Word: Boots

Object: A faded photo of a younger looking Edward standingin front of an old motorcycle next to an older man

Étienne went to sit next to Edward in the living room andhanded him a carefully wrapped medium sized parcel, “Happy birthday,” He saidpecking his cheek; Edward took the box, surprised by its weight, but even moresurprised by the gesture, “My birthday was two days ago, also I thought thejacket and the surprise birthday party at that rooftop bistro were my gifts,”He gave his boyfriend a pointed look, which Étienne ignored, as he cleverlylooked away, even if his cheeks had pinked slightly. Edward sighed and shookhis head – there was absolutely no stopping Étienne when he had big ideas and he supposed whatever wasin this box was part of one, “In my defence, this was supposed to go with thejacket, but they only arrived today,” Edward wasn’t sure he believed him, buthe chose not to say anything and instead started unwrapping the present.

Beneath the colourful paper, Edward found a shoe box from avery specific shoe store and Edward held his breath for a moment, clearly,Étienne had not, but when he openedthe top of the box, he realised that Étienne had. “What is this? Étienne Marie Maisonneuve.” He started lookedfrom the contents of the box to his boyfriend who grinned and laughed, “You gotme boots.” He said, trying to keephis voice from cracking and his mind from spinning, “Not just any boots – motorcycleboots. To go with the jacket. And the motorcycle.” Edward made a garbled noisein the back of his throat as he gently lifted one of the boots out of the box, “Theseare Boulet boots – I don’t… you didn’thave to…. Why?!” He blurted out, not even able to string together a coherentsentence, his mind running through eight different types of emotions.

“I wanted to. You only turn thirty once, Edward, plus, nowyou have a full kit.”

Edward remained quiet and instead stroked the top of theboot, feeling the soft leather under his fingers. Ever since they had returnedfrom their road trip through Alberta some four years ago, Edward had decidedthat at some point, he would like to re-own a motorcycle. Étienne had beenabsolutely gobsmacked to find out Edward could actually ride a motorcycle whenhe had suggested they should do part of their road trip by motorcycle andÉtienne had then realised that there was nothing sexier on God’s green Earththan Edward Murphy on a motorcycle wearing a leather jacket, nice fitting pantsand gorgeous leather boots.

Étienne was only human.

Étienne knew he always had a thing for fine leather jacketsand the “rebellious bad boy” image, but this had taken it to an entirelydifferent level.

Edward had noticed.

Edward had also taken advantage of it.

Étienne hadn’t minded. At all.

But other than that, Étienne had asked Edward how he hadcome to learn to ride motorcycles and Edward had shared with him a verypersonal story about his childhood that Étienne had never heard. Of all hisrelatives, Edward had always been closest to his maternal grandfather – Horace Durocher.Edward’s maternal grandparents had split up when Edward’s mother had been ateenager and his grandfather had returned to live on the Buffalo Lake MétisSettlement, where he had grown up. Edward’s mother had broken all ties with herfather, refusing to acknowledge that part of her heritage, but somehow orother, once Edward had been born, she had let her father see his grandson and adeep bond had formed between them.

Edward had spent a lot of time with his grandfather, whowould often come and pick him up and they would spend weekends together. Mr.Durocher was a crafty fellow who was good with his hands and who liked puttingcars back together. He owned a motorcycle that he had salvaged from a wreck andEdward had watched his grandfather spend countless hours meticulously finetuning it and putting it back to its former glory. Edward had learnt a lot fromhis grandfather – had learnt a lot about this part of his heritage from hisgrandfather and Mr. Durocher had always been very calm and patient with Edward.

Horace had taught Edward how to drive on some of those lazyweekends they had spent together and he had even shown Edward how to use themotorcycle. Edward had absolutely lovedriding the motorcycle. He loved the freedom he felt as the wind swept throughhis body. He loved the speed and the adrenaline rush he got from it.

Edward had spent many afternoons sitting on his grandfather’sfront porch talking to him – telling him about his hopes and dreams, about hisfears and insecurities and in turn Horace had given his grandson advice andcounsel and had encouraged him to pursue what made him happy. Horace had beenthe first one to receive Edward’s scared and panicked coming out and Edward hadnever felt so relieved in his life than when his grandfather had pulled him infor a tight hug. Edward had wept in his grandfather’s arms for what had feltlike a lifetime, but when he had finally pulled back and dried his eyes, he wasrelieved to see nothing but love and pride in his grandfather’s eyes and it hadbeen him who had gently encouraged and helped Edward come out to his parents,letting him know that if all else failed, Edward would always have a home withhim.

For Edward’s sixteenth birthday, Horace had given him themotorcycle and Edward had always cherished it. It gave him an easier way to seehim and to get away from his parents.

Edward had envisioned himself visiting his grandfather oftenand even taking care of him in his old age, if ever he needed it, but shortlyafter Edward’s eighteenth birthday, his grandfather had died suddenly of amassive heart attack. He had been devastated.

Edward had found solace in his grandfather’s old bike and hehad done his best to take care of it. He had applied his grandfather’s precioustutelage and had made sure that the bike was always in tip-top condition.

Even though Edward had moved across the country to study, heat least knew that every summer, he would find his motorcycle and he could hitthe open road and feel a sense of reconnection with his grandfather. Edwardknew that once he would settle somewhere, be it Montreal or Edmonton, orwherever else he would find work, he would have the motorcycle brought to him,but then one summer, as he had been running errands in the city, someone stoleit.

It had felt like loosing his grandfather all over again anddespite Edward’s best efforts, he had never been able to find it. Edward hadbeen devastated. He had returned to Montreal at the end of summer feeling emptyand bone tired and Étienne remembered remarking that Edward had lookedcompletely crushed, but his boyfriend had said that it had to do with parents.Étienne felt like there was more to it, but he had never pushed for more, sinceEdward had always gotten even more upset when he tried.

For a few years the mystery had persisted and it had fadedto the back of his mind, until they had gone on that road trip and Edward hadexplained the entire story.

From that day on, Étienne had gently encouraged Edward tomaybe save up into a motorcycle, if he so desired and Edward had taken him upon the offer. Finally, after years of saving and of perusing websites to findsomething that he would like, Edward had found one that wasn’t exactly like theone his grandfather had given him, but was similar in style and make. Edward hadhesitated, slightly overwhelmed that this was potentially finally happening, butÉtienne had slowly coerced him into going forth with the purchase towards themiddle of December, even if he wouldn’t be able to ride it right away, but adeal such as this one would be hard to come by again.

Which was why Étienne had gotten him a nice leather jacketand some nice motorcycle boots to go with the bike.

Not that he had an agenda, or anything.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, I hope you realise that,”Edward declared, putting the box down so that he could try on the boots, “Youdid not have to go through all this trouble to order me boots – especially Boulet boots – they’re expensive!”Étienne shrugged – sure, they had cost a pretty penny, but Edward was worth it –Edward was worth everything it took to make him happy and Étienne never minded,never would mind, because he loved Edward and wanted to make him happy inwhichever way he could, “Maybe, but you deserve the best,” Edward’s cheeksflushed red and he fell silent as he finished putting on the boots – the beautifulblack boots with subtle silver looking designs on them – the fine leather blackboots with the perfect Realflex sole and cowboy heel – the perfect black,leather boots that fit like a charm and that Edward already absolutely loved.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Edward said as he shook his headand plopped back down on the sofa – Étienne laughed and leaned against Edward,letting him wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close to kiss hischeek, “I know – I’m the luckiest,” And Edward shook his head again, because ofcourse Étienne would say that with all the sincerity of the world, “You’resomething else, Bouclé, I hope you know that, but thank you, really, for thisand the party and the jacket – I promise I’ll keep the first ride for you thisspring,” Étienne chuckled and silently thrilled at the idea of a motorcycle ridewith Edward and nodded, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I know spring isstill a little ways off, but if your leg allows it, I can save you the firstride,” Edward said with a smile and a soft chuckle.

Étienne stilled for amoment, a variety of different emotions running through him, until he finallyslowly nodded, “I’ll hold you to it.”

——–

PREVIOUS: XXVIII

CURRENT: XXIX

NEXT: XXX

#allbeendonebefore #pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #3 sentence fic meme thing #advent calendar au

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hxarrysbabe · 6 years ago

Text

Forbidden - H.S. fanfiction

Prologue

___

Chapter 1

Only four months left - Jane thought to herself as she scratched off one more day of the calendar, hanging on her bedroom wall. She had to live with her parents and her annoying brother only for four months more. Then she would leave for college (hopefully, Oxford) and she would have to deal on her own.

Even the thought of it scared her and made her feel nostalgic. She neved admitted it but she was a daddy's girl and she never learned to cook as good as her mother so she would miss them terribly for sure. Damn, she would even miss Hugo, who was nothing more than a pain in the ass with his pranks and stupid jokes.

She would miss her father who taught how to ride a bike and how to throw rocks in the lake. She would miss the times they would go fishing for hours and come home hungry and cold, trying to hide their muddy shoes from her mother.

She would miss her too, even thought she sometimes hated her for being so demanding and for expecting so much from her. She would miss her because she had shaped her in the person she was today. She would miss her because when she looked at herself in the mirror, she could see her - her blond hair and her green eyes which had blue thick rings around their irises. They looked so much like each other, yet they had a very different way of seeing the world and they fought a lot with each other.

She would miss her brother as well. She had grown up used to him always being around and pissing her off, that she didn't believe she could just leave home and go somewhere far away from him. Hugo was twenty-three years old which made him five years older than her. His hair was dirty blond but he had eyes similar to their father's - warm brown eyes which shined like gold when being exposed to the sunlight.

Jane loved their house. It was on two floors and had a beautiful front porch and a backyard with a stunning flower-bed. She loved to spend her spring days, taking care of the flowers, and her summer nights, reading in the wooden swing on the porch. She loved every single memory she had in this house and it was definitely a home to her.

It was the middle of April now and the clock in the shape of an owl on her desk signalised her with a funny "coo" that it was already two in the morning. Her parents were on a vacation somewhere in Nevada for the whole week and her brother was on one of his mate's birthday party with his girlfriend, Mary, so she didn't expect him to come home earlier than sometime tomorrow.

She took the chance of the empty house and the lack of distracting noises and started studying from five p.m., finishing just now. Her parents were always scolding her because she studied way too much and Hugo was always making a fun of her for not socializing enough, so this was the perfect oppurtunity for her to do extra credit stuff for school.

Just as she brushed her teeth and was finally ready to read a little before going to bed, she heard the door bell ring. Scrunching her eyerbrows and growling, she stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the corridor, wondering who for fuck's sake was bothering her at this hour. It could be Hugo only if he had forgot his keys or was drunk out of his fucking mind and couldn't think of a way to open the door. But if he and Mary wanted to bang, why didn't they go to her apartment? She lived on her own because her parents were in Oregon and...

"Coming!", Jane yelled, almost sprinting to the door.

Who was the crazy bastard, who didn't want to stop knocking and ringing the bell at two fucking o'clock in the morning?

She unlocked and opened it, her eyes widening at the boy in front of her. Her best friend stood outside their house, with only a t-shirt on in this chilly night, and his hands on the two sides of the door frame.

"Harry?" She murmured, rubbing her eyes.

She was sleepy and tired from studying but she couldn't be dreaming, right? Was he really here when he should be in Mat's house, drinking and chatting with the boys?

He didn't say a thing and continued staring at her, the only evidence that he wasn't sleep-walking were the soft breathes he exhaled and the slow way in which he was blinking at her. His dark hair was messy as if he had runned his fingers throught it multiple times (she knew he had a habit of doing it when he was nervious about something) and his lips were slightly parted.

"What are you doing here?" Jane asked, confused with him.

Harry finally showed a sign that he was alive and pinched his nose with one hand, the other one was still on the door frame. "I just...", he started with a husky voice but then stopped, thinking of a way to express himself.

What was going in his mind that he couldn't tell her? What could it possibly be? They were used to sharing everything with each other. His attitude was starting to scare her a little bit - not because she was worried about what he could have done or what he could do, but because he's never acted this way before. He's always so confident in himself and it always seems that nothing really bothers him, and he made her feel secure and believe that everything is possible, and... He just had that thing about himself. So what was wrong now?

"Mat has a birthday", he blurted out out of a sudden, confusing her even more. "He's a great guy really, one of my best mates after your brother and you, you know."

"Harry, what's up?" Jane shivered, the cold air easily sucking through the thin material of her pijamas.

"You", he shrugged. "I'm partying with all of my friends and all of a sudden... you. You pop in my head and make me leave Mat's huge house, get in my car and stop in front of your house. And now i'm standing here like an idiot, wandering what to say to you and how to explain all of this shit that's going in my in my head right now."

"You're drunk", she shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "What the fuck made you think it was okay to drive in this state?"

"Just two beers", Harry moved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I can still think properly but the thoughts in my mind... God, i just wish to forget about all of this."

"About what?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and silenced himself, clearly not wanting to overshare something with her. She sighted and he forgot how to fucking breath because she stood there in front of him only with a baggy white T-shirt (it was probably an old one of his brother's) and pink shorts on. He lost his words because he had a crush on her from ten years now and he wasn't even ashamed to say that the time was half of his life.

"Jane", he said her name in a certain pleading way and she didn't know what was going on anymore. "Can i-"

But before he could continue he gave up on saying whatever it was on his mind in that moment and leaned in, grabbing her face in his hands and kissing her. He had dreamed of her pink lips almost ever since he remembered himself but in none of his dreams they weren't as soft and as tasty as they were in reality. He could smell the trace of the toothpaste she was using and he felt a little guilty because he was sure he didn't smell like anything but beer.

Jane was taken aback by his actions and didn't return to his kiss at first but when he stepped closer to her, pressing their bodies together, and lifted her chin with two of her fingers, parting her lips with his tongue, she started moving against his mouth. Her tongue welcomed his in her mouth and he could swear that his heart was going to fly out of his chest.

But before he could fully process what was happening, she pulled away and, keeping her eyes closed, she put her hand on his chest. "Harry", she sighted, shaking her head. "You're drunk."

"I'm not", Harry squeezed her hand just the slightest, making her open her eyes. "I drank, yes, but i'm sober enough for this, trust me." His voice was pleading and his dark eyes shined with a new-found light in them now. "Please, just let me kiss you once more..."

"We're going to regret this", Jane exhaled harshly.

Her nipples were poking trough her T-shirt.

"Oh, trust me, i know."

He stepped in, closed the door with the back of his foot and pushed her against the wall. His arms pinned hers above her head and his lips crashed against hers once again, this time with so much more force. She smiled into the kiss, loving the way he was man-handling her.

She's never seen this side of him, not until now. He was always a gentleman around her, helping her carry her bag to school and driving her home every afternoon. She didn't know he could be like this and she loved the beast, unfolding in front of her right now. So she collected all of her confidence and pushed her lower half against his, rubbing herself on him. His leg momentarily parted her two by sliding between them and he pressed his chest to hers even closer.

There wasn't any space between the two of them now and the thought of it made her lose her breath too soon. He felt her hands gripping onto his hair and he pulled away, looking at her eyes. She watched him with an amusment, written all over her beautiful face, and he felt himself throbbing in his pants for her.

The temperature in the room had quickly excalated and now they were both hot and unsure of where was this going to now. Bleise rested his forehead against hers and gulped heavily, wanting her more than ever.

How was this even possible?

"Let's go in my room", she suggested and lifted his T-shirt, exposing his stomach.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself just for a minute. She was his best mate's little sister, the girl who he watched growing up in front of his eyes. But she was also the girl who he loved since he was thirteen.

So he noded and he followed her to her bedroom, her small hand stil in his. Once they got in there, she took off his T-shirt completely and he bended a little, starting to kiss her neck. By the time she had took off his belt too, her neck was covered in red spots. Harry smiled against her skin, proud of his masterpieces.

"Fuck", he growled, her hand on his crotch suprising him. "Mischievous little thing, aren't you?"

Jane bit on her bottom lip, stepping back just enough to look at his muscular stomach and his V-line, showing above his jeans. Harry pushed her on the bed, quickly undressing her and kissing every inch of her pale skin. She was so fucking soft and smelled like lemonade, he wanted just to eat her all up.

But this was Jane and he had to be careful, he had to be gentle with her. So he kissed her one last time and, trying not to look down to her boobs, he concentrated on her face, exploring every little detail of the way she was watching him. Her lips were already a little puffy from all the kisses he gave her and her cheeks were a little red, showing her embarrassment of being naked under him.

"Don't stop", she whined and tried to pull him in again, but he looked at her with some sort of seriousness in his eyes and that's what made her calm down a little.

She felt smaller and smaller under his heavy gaze and her face kept getting more and more flushy. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to the mattress.

"Do you have a condom?" He suprised her by asking.

Even thought he was the one with two beers running in his veins, he thought more soberly than her.

"I'm on the pill", she shook her head.

"What?" Harry's eyerbrows scrunched up in confusion.

He had suspections that she wasn't a virgin because she had a serious boyfriend before six months but... On the pill? Did she hook up with other guys after the prick who was Norman?

"Just in case", she shrugged, wanting to dig a hole in the bed and fall in it.

"Good", was all that Harry said, planting a quick peck on her lips before kicking off his pants.

He pushed a finger in her, feeling how tight she was. Rubbing himself against the mattress and teasing her clit with his other hand, he added a second finger in, making her arch her back.

At that moment Jane was careless about him, being older than her and her best friend since their childhood. At that moment she could only think about the way he was watching her from inbetween her legs with his big eyes with the color of the darkest night sky and his messy hair, which was a bit longer than usual because he hadn't cutted it in a while.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but quickly changed his mind and putted it on her pearl instead. She could feel his stubble against herself while he pumped three fingers in and out of her.

"Har", she moaned, pulling his hair.

He looked up and stopped sucking on her clit for a moment, intrigued by the needy way she called his name in.

"Hm?"

She giggled, finding him a bit cute with his nose, pushed against her pussy.

"C'mon, i want you in me."

He didn't have to be called again, pulling his fingers out of her and lifting himself on the bed with his arms. Even thought there was no light on in the room, Jane could still see her juices glistening on his lips and his chin. She kissed him, tasting herself from his mouth. And as he entered her just with his head at first, she yelped in suprise.

"Can i go deeper? Is it okay?", he asked, wrapping an arm under her back.

"Yes", she encouraged him and felt him kiss the tip of her nose instead of saying "thanks".

Jane knew it was probably hurting him by now because he was a little impatient and by the years she spent with him, she knew well that he never got tired of waiting if he wanted something that much. Norman wasn't really big and the guy after him, who's name she didn't even remember, too. So when Harry filled her to the brim, she couldn't stop herself from digging her nails into the skin of his back. Moaning and tightly holding onto him, she heard him groan.

"So tight", he buried his face in the crook of her neck, sniffing her hair which smelled like strawberry shampoo. "You're so fucking sweet and your skin is so soft, and..."

He felt her clenching around him and looked up, mesmerized by her pink lips and the way she was squeezing her eyes because the pleasure was getting the best out of her. She was trembling underneath him with her legs, wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her hot body.

"Jane, look at me", he managed to say, wanting just to see what was hiding behind her eyes.

She quickly followed his order and blinked at him with her long eyelashes. His hand cupped one of her breasts and gently squeezed it, while he was continuing to fuck into her. In the corners of her eyes there were little tears from how good it felt to be stretched out like this.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" Harry smirked and pushed himself even deeper in her. "Just say the word and i'll give it to you all."

Jane nodded, not really being able to say a word, and got up on her elbows so she could kiss him. His lips moved against hers and his tongue played with hers with a certain experience, which made her want to never stop kissing him.

But before she could love on him enough, his hand settled between their bodies and two of his fingers started rubbing on her clit. This took her by suprise and she fell back onto the pillow, gasping. His lips continued to plant kisses down her chin and her neck, sucking on the skin from time to time. Her fingers were pulling onto his hair and she was calling his name again and again, closing her eyes, when he growled out of a sudden.

"Look at me while you cum. I want to see how beautiful you are when you do it."

This was everything she needed, clenching around him one last time before she came, shakening with convulsions. He came just a second after her with his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, feeling like he wouldn't be able to ever stop spilling himself in her.

When the both of them calmed down and were able to breath properly again, he layed down next to her with his arm still underneath her body. He didn't ever want this night to end as she cuddled into his side, looking like an angel. Too bad the halo above her head was a little broken.

"You were amazing for me, sun", Harry complimented her, pulling her even closer to his chest.

She smiled and only hummed to him, too tired to answer him. Holding her in his arms, he thought that it was impossible to love someone so much but yet, he somehow had found a way. And god, was he scared of what was going to happen when they woke up tomorrow morning...

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles story #tumblr writing #forbidden #tumblr fanfic #masterlist #wattpad

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