#LITERALLY DREAMED OF THIS MAN! HE SERVED ME DRINK AT A PUB THAT WAS ONLY ACCESSIBLE THROUGH A SHADY ASS ALLYWAY!

[cosmic-ships]

New oc Colby Walker

New original character - Colby Walker - Vampire -

Basics -

Character’s full name: Colby Walker (Not his birthname!)

Character’s nicknames: Bee, Coco, Cole

Birth date: 02/14/???

Species: Vampire

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Ace/bi

Physical appearance -

Age: Over 500 years old

How old does he appear: 34

Height: 6'1"

Eye color: Red

Skin tone: Pale

Predominant features: Hair, eyes (When visable), fangs

Hair color: Light Pink

Type of hair: Long

Hairstyle: Wild

Voice: Normally gravelly but can turn honeyed when luring a victim.

Usual fashion of dress: Street/grunge/formal-casual

Favorite outfit:

Jewelry or accessories:

Personality -

Good personality traits: Intelligent, Courageous, charismatic, Adaptability, and a sense of humor

Bad personality traits: Manipulative, bloodlust, cunning, sadistic

Mood character is most often in: Either Melancholic or angry when he is alone. Will "act" happy around others to seem more alluring.

Sense of humor: Dark, playful teasing, clever repartee

Character’s greatest joy in life: Cultural and Historical Immersion

Character’s greatest fear: Immortality Boredom:

Why?: The idea of living forever and experiencing an endless stream of time might lead to a fear of eternal boredom.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Loss of immortality, Captured by vampire hunters, force-feeding on a loved one, and loss of supernatural abilities.

Character is most at ease when: When he is under the cover of darkness, hidden in plain sight, in the company of those he trust, and when he is at home

Most ill at ease when: he has to be in sunlight, blood deprivation, around hunters/enemies

Enraged when: A direct threat to his life, harm to a loved one, and violation of territory

Depressed or sad when: Loss of his loved ones, when he feels lonely, reminiscing about how he'd been betrayed by allies in the past

Priorities: survival, secrecy, feeding, forming alliances, avoiding exposure, adapting to change and protecting his loved ones. Life philosophy - Embracing the Moment - Acknowledging the fleeting nature of human existence, Colby savors each moment. He finds joy and meaning in the present, appreciating the beauty of life and the world around him Eternal Learning - With centuries at his disposal, Colby adopts continuous learning. he seeks knowledge, engages in intellectual pursuits, and embraces opportunities for personal and spiritual growth.

If granted one wish, it would be: Peaceful Coexistence with Humans

Why? Colby wishes for a world where vampires and humans can coexist peacefully, without fear or animosity, allowing him to live openly without the need for secrecy.

Character’s soft spot: The person he loves.

Greatest strength: his wisdom/experiences and strategic thinking.

Biggest regret: Unintended Consequences of his actions. He's sparked conflicts with others and influenced events and inadvertently caused suffering of others.

Minor regret: Building such a big wall around himself. He has missed opportunities for genuine connections with humans because of this.

Biggest accomplishment: Development of Protective Havens. Colby has created secure havens for vampires and his allies where they can retreat during daylight hours or escape threats.

Minor accomplishment: Learning and adapting to technology. Colby has embraced and adapted technological advancements

Past failures he would be embarrassed to have people know about: Misunderstanding slang and pop culture references.

Why? Colby attempted to fit in with humans and he's had moments of confusion and misinterpretation when faced with slang, memes, and pop culture references.

Character’s darkest secret: Identity Theft and Masquerading as someone else to hide his real identity. He conceals his age, origins and their supernatural abilites.

Does anyone else know? Nobody knows.

Past

Hometown: New Brunswick Canada

Type of childhood: Before becoming a vampire, Colby had a typical human childhood. He experienced a range of emotions, formed relationships, and underwent personal development.

Pets: a cat named Porkchop

Dream job: To live forever (accomplished) Wants to try bartending

Present

Current location: ????

Currently living with: No-one

Pets: None

Occupation: Bartender

Family

Mother: Morgana Walker

Relationship with her: Close when she was alive

Father: Tristan Walker

Relationship with him: distant when he was alive

Siblings: Sister named Selene

Relationship with them: Close when she was alive.

Spouse: none

Children: none

Favorites

Color: Mauve, light blue, pink

Least favorite color: Green

Music: Classical/Jazz

Food: Blood and lollipops (He likes the sweet taste and it helps with his oral fixation)

Literature: gothic literature, romantic literature, and classic poetry

Form of entertainment: nightlife/clubs, reading literature, Games of strategy like chess, and observing humanity

Habits

Hobbies: Collecting art and antiques, photography, and exploration,

Plays a musical instrument? Violin

Smokes: No

Drinks: Occasional alcoholic beverage, more so to blend in with others as he cannot get drunk.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? optimist

Introvert or extrovert? extroverted

Daredevil or cautious? daredevil

Logical or emotional? Logical unless it involves someone he scares for then his thinking can be led more by emotions

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? neat

Prefer working or relaxing? both

Confident or unsure of himself? Confident

Animal lover? yes

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: He is interested in humans not just because they are a food source for him but also because they are fascinating creatures.

Does the character hide his true opinions and emotions from others? Absolutely not. He always speaks his mind.

The person character most hates: Vampire hunters.

Best friend(s): n/a (be his friend)

Love interest(s): n/a (Or love on him lol)

Person character goes to for advice: His books

The most important person in the character’s life before the story starts: His sister.

[x][x][x][x][x][x]

[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[weelittleweasley]

bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @vogueweasley​

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits. 

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice. 

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache. 

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?” 

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.  

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you. 

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble. 

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone. 

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth. 

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone. 

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped. 

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub. 

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?” 

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush. 

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you. 

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to. 

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. 

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?” 

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk. 

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea. 

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss. 

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his. 

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?” 

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the artwork! So fancy!

Midnight

Chapter 4 — The Ball

Summary: In which our heroine feels exposed

Chapter 4 of 7 on AO3

“Some day, when I’m awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you”

-The Way You Look Tonight, Fred Astaire

Having spent several days eating her way through Misthaven with one eye on the lookout for black sedans, Emma was glad to be heading away from the town and the emotional memories the sight of a pub or gas station would cause. She wasn’t sure why one innocent night with Killian Jones continued to dominate her thoughts and hijack her dreams, but she feared seeing him again would push her over the edge.

That didn’t keep her from wanting to though.

On some level, she knew he had probably already forgotten her. Perhaps he did before the night was even over. Some other passenger might be walking around his place now, wearing his shirts and eating his pancakes.

Because when she dreamed about Door Number One, they always had pancakes for breakfast.

Despite her stubborn heart’s refusal to cooperate, the last couple of days had not been wasted. Arthur turned out to be a man of his word. Like a crazy fairy godmother who sprinkled cold hard cash instead of pixie dust and magic, he kept her supplied in the finest clothes and the chicest accessories. At the same time, he made sure her social calendar buzzed with invitations from a who’s who of Misthaven’s finest and wealthiest families. Events that inevitably threw her together with Lance more often than not.

It was at a garden soirée the previous day Lance had pressed to drive her out to Camelot, Arthur’s sprawling estate just a couple of hours away. Figuring the sooner she got the weekend over with, the better, she remained elusive only long enough to be convincing and then accepted his offer.

She already figured out Lancelot du Lac was a man who enjoyed the chase. She also discovered underneath his rakish exterior was someone who desperately wanted to find love while at the same time being deathly afraid of it. Normally, Emma wasn’t one to psychoanalyze. Still, the funny thing about rich people’s parties was that they were actually very dull, and she had nothing to do but regret not kissing the Captain before they parted ways or come up with profiles on the personalities she encountered.

Psychoanalysis seemed like the safer option.

Now she was waiting in the lobby of the Ritz for Lance’s foreign sports car to arrive so she could finally shake the dirt of this town off her feet. She hoped she could shake the lingering sadness as well. It was doing things to her. Things like making her hear the Captain’s voice in crowds.

“Swan! Swan! Emma, if you don’t turn around this instant—“

Excitement and abject horror battled for supremacy when she realized it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. As if in slow motion, she turned in the direction of his voice and her eyes met his across the vast space. Then she watched as Killian Jones began to sprint toward her, pushing people out of his way none too gently while managing not to crease his startlingly posh blue suit. This wasn’t the flirty Uber driver of a few nights ago, all leather and innuendo. Sure he had the same sex hair and twinkling blue eyes, but this man exuded power and authority and, quite frankly, looked more than a little pissed as he closed the distance between them with frightening speed.

Unaware of the drama playing out, one of the valets rushed to her and announced breathlessly, “Baroness, your ride has arrived.”

“I… I’ll be right there.”

Emma couldn’t break eye contact with him. His face was just as she remembered it, as it should since it was less than a week ago when she last saw him. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked frantic to get to her. He seemed to know she was contemplating an escape and he paused briefly, not caring who heard him when he called across the remaining ground between them, “So help me, Swan, if you run again, I swear I will—“

She didn’t hear the rest of what he said as a herd of visitors passed between them chattering loudly in some foreign language, the group taking photos of the architecture and potted plants as if they were worthy of remembrance. She had a brief opportunity to step out unseen under cover of the mob separating them. To forever give this man who haunted her the slip.

Or she could stay.

God, did she want to stay.

—

The estate was as lovely as one would expect. Ancient oak trees lined the drive and gave way to topiaries precisely cut into fantastical shapes as the car approached the main house. Lance regaled her with tales of the vast land Arthur inherited, the numerous homes on the property, and the complete absence of any cell or internet services once you crossed the boundary.

It seemed old man Soberano convinced himself the emerging technologies were a way for the government to spy on people and had forbidden, by way of his last will and testament, any cell towers or fiber lines from ever crossing the property. It was why as coveted as an acquaintance with the family was, people often grumbled when they received an invitation to the country estate rather than one of the other properties throughout the globe. The ancient landline phones served as the communication system for the large estate and the only connection to the outside world.

Of course, most of his ramblings went in one ear and out the other because she was too busy wondering why Killian had been at the Ritz in a suit that looked like it was made for him. She would know. After all, she was now in possession of a wardrobe filled with custom pieces and carefully tailored lines.

Was it a fluke encounter or was he still searching for her? He would give new meaning to the phrase ‘no stone left unturned’ if his sole reason for coming to the premier hotel in town was to look for the broke woman he gambled on and lost. Literally.

“Darling, I feel like you haven’t heard a word I said the whole journey,” Lance gently complained as he helped her out of the low seats of the car and up the grand stairs leading to the front door. He appeared genuinely distressed at her distance, and for the first time, she felt a twinge of guilt for the ridiculous game she was playing.

“I’m sorry. I had some bad news right before we left, and I’m a bit distracted,” she explained, allowing Lance to take her hand as they approached the Soberanos who were waiting for them in the foyer. Their linked hands did not go unnoticed by either of their hosts, although to widely different responses.

Learning she was at the opposite end of the mansion from Lance, the group moved to the second floor together. The servant leading them turned to Lance and said helpfully, “Good news, Mr. du Lac, we found the cuff link you lost on your last visit. It was in Madam Soberano’s sitting room.”

Sheepishly, he looked to Emma as if ready to offer an excuse. Unable to keep a chuckle from escaping at the crazy situation, she patted his arm and said, “The wind must have blown it in.”

With that, the group separated. Arthur replaced Lance at her arm and smiled indulgently at his protege. “You’re quite good. You have him eating out of your hand, and you’re not even trying.”

“I’ve met his type before. The less I try, the more he will. He’ll be begging me to divorce my husband and proposing before the end of the night at this rate,” she joked.

“You don’t know Lancelot du Lac,” Arthur argued. Their leisurely stroll through the second-floor gallery allowed her to see pictures of his ancestors back to the Norman invasion, but she noted there was none of him or his beloved wife who he was fighting so hard to keep.

“Well, you don’t know Emma Swan. He tried to give me an emerald the size of a baby’s fist today.” She had been tempted to pocket the jewel, but some small part of her knew what she was doing was wrong and robbing the man blind when she had no intention of ever returning his affections wouldn’t make it any better.

“Excellent! I won’t even deduct it from your pay if you promise to take him for all he’s worth and break his heart, dear. It will do him some good.”

“How are you still friends with him? Knowing what he’s doing with your wife. I can’t figure out if you’re the most understanding man in the world or absolutely crazy.”

Sighing, he sat down on one of the numerous benches that lined the gallery floor and patted the seat beside him. Emma didn’t know precisely how or when it happened, but he had become almost a friend after the deal was struck. She spent as much time with him as she did Lance and, despite the fact she thought he was extremely odd, she had grown fond of him. “Because I think he was trying to make her happy at first. I told you she wasn’t the only one to make mistakes. This whole thing is my fault. It was my foolish pursuit of wealth that drove her to this, endlessly trying to carve my name into the family tomes as one of the best empire builders in the dynasty. If I had been there for her, if I had just listened when she tried to tell me what she needed…well, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“I hope for your sake this works.”

“And I hope for your sake, the next time a man tries to give you an emerald, you keep it.”

“How do you know I didn’t keep it?”

“Because I think I’m starting to know Emma Swan,” he explained with a wink and smile before pulling her up and taking her to the east wing. Dropping her off at her room, he teased, “Get some rest, dear. Cinderella needs to be at her best for the ball.”

With a sardonic grin, she countered, “Hard to be at your best when you know every Cinderella has her midnight.”

Hours later, after a nap and a fortifying drink, she shrugged into her form-fitting green dress like it was battle armor. She was joking earlier when she said a proposal would be forthcoming, but she had no doubt Lance would make a proposition of some kind. The trick would be to keep him on the line without actually following through with anything.

She left her room as late as possible to avoid spending too much time around the pampered elite who were her housemates that weekend. While she had met a fair few during her crash course in Misthaven society, Arthur was the only one she didn’t mind having a conversation with, but he was unlikely to abandon Guin’s side to keep her company. Especially since it would put a damper on Lance’s pursuit.

Her destination was the expansive, three-tiered back deck, illuminated by thousands of clear fairy lights and a fair number of fireflies, the faint breeze carrying the briny smell of the ocean that lay only a few feet beyond their well-tended lawn. The men in tuxedos added a dashing contrast to their partners’ colorful evening gowns and cocktail dresses. A string quartet was playing off to the side; the beautiful melody drifted through the party in a way that enhanced the romantic atmosphere to a point it made her hurt.

She was surprised to see Arthur standing alone through the wall of windows. She stopped to take in the scene, complete with busy waitstaff and tables of food.

She couldn’t wait to get away.

“Alright, Guinevere, you want to talk, let’s talk. I have a few serious words to say.”

Silently moving until the curtains partially hid her, Emma watched as Lance and Guinevere made their way toward the patio. Guinevere’s eyes were red and she was fretting with a handkerchief gripped tightly between her hands. “As if you had two serious words in your whole vocabulary, Lance.”

“I could make a very noble speech. Tell you we were just two ships passing in the night, but the truth is, Arthur is my friend. I don’t want to break up a happy marriage. We’ve been playing with fire, but it’s better to end this now before someone gets hurt.”

“Funny how none of that mattered until the baroness showed up. I know you think you are in love with her. I can see it in your face every time she is around. You’re behaving like a schoolboy. You’re a darling, but you need to be careful. We don’t know anything about her. All we have is her word that she is who she says she is. I’ve asked around; no one has ever heard of her. Maybe her hair is dyed, and maybe she’s poisoned three husbands. Sidney told me there was some man calling her a swan and chasing her at her hotel today. It had all the staff talking.”

“You’re jealous, Guin.”

“Terribly. Fun, isn’t it?” The woman rushed from the room, tears flowing freely now. Emma didn’t move from her hiding place, instead waiting until he had joined the party before she followed in his footsteps.

—

As she predicted, Lance made sure he was her partner for most of the night. She followed Guin’s movements with alarm, knowing the woman was on edge and fearful of what she may do if she felt she had nothing to lose. Her glance met Arthur’s when she saw his wife and Sidney go inside, heads close together and a look of shock crossing Guin’s face. The other man nodded at her and trailed after them at a distance.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to let Lance lead her away from the party into the formal gardens spreading north of the patio. Perhaps she was tired of having to put a fake smile on her face, or maybe she was simply tired.

He kept a steady stream of conversation going, mostly unanswered on her side, and navigated them down an old stone path to a large fountain surrounded by benches and meticulously pruned rose bushes. “Please don’t interrupt, dear, but suppose we were to follow this path all the way to the garage and take my car for a ride through the countryside.”

“Oh, the make-believe game! It’s always been one of my favorites. But why stop at the countryside, Lance? Why not go on a tour of the moon while we’re at it?”

“I asked you not to interrupt,” he teased, pulling her arm through his and continuing to amble further away from the house. “You see, this isn’t some random trip. We have a particular place we are heading. A little estate by the lake where an opinionated old dame lives. It’s twenty ’til midnight. If we leave now, we can make it as dawn is breaking.”

Intrigued despite herself, she asked, “And what business would we have at this chateau by the lake?”

“I want you to meet my mother. To introduce you to her and tell her that I’ve met the one. Then the pale light of dawn will shine on the first day of our lives together.”

He was serious, and she felt like the lowest of human beings when she joked back, “I doubt the day will be the only thing breaking when that bombshell drops. Were we going to share the news with my husband before or after our visit?”

Before he could respond, Arthur called out from behind them on the path, “Baroness Jones, I believe you promised me a dance.”

He reached them seconds later with a pointed look at her. Although he was the picture of sophistication, she could tell by his quick pace something had happened. “A midnight dance as I remember.”

“Of course, please excuse me,” she murmured to Lance, who looked like he was about to protest as she took Arthur’s arm and allowed him to guide her back to the house. Keeping a calm expression on her face, she smiled and nodded to the people they passed and waited until they were out of earshot to ask, “What’s happened?”

“It’s midnight, dear. The ground has opened under our feet. That horrible friend of Guin’s, Sidney, did some digging and found out there is no Baroness Jones. They plan to make an announcement any moment now. I’m sorry I brought you into this mess, Emma.”

They reached the dance floor Arthur installed on the deck specifically for the party, but neither felt like dancing. Instead, they hovered along the back wall and waited for the troublesome pair to return from their scheming.

Sighing, she nudged his shoulder. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. We never really stood a chance at this working.”

“But we were so close. I could feel Guin changing, turning back to me. Now I may as well help her pack her bags,” he replied, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one off to her. Clicking his glass against hers in a mock toast, he muttered, “Here’s to wasted years and endless torment.”

He downed the entire glass and, when she only took a sip, he reached out and downed hers as well.

She wasn’t sure what he had to be upset about. She was the one who was going to be exposed as a charlatan, forced to exit under the judgmental gazes of a house full of people who would dine on the story for months to come. Just as she was about to point out it could be worse, she saw Guin descend the stairs with Sidney hot on her heels. “Here we go.”

“I’ll stand by you as best I can,” Arthur promised, his hand coming to rest in the small of her back as if to provide some physical barrier against what was about to happen.

“Ladies and gentleman, may I have a moment of your time? As you know, Arthur and I pride ourselves on providing the best of entertainment at our parties, and I think you’ll find tonight’s will not disappoint. I have a story to share that I think will delight and amuse you. Under our roof tonight, we have a guest claiming one of the oldest names in European aristocracy.”

A murmur started in the crowd, musicians laying down their instruments, even the waitstaff and caterers ceased what they were doing. It seemed as if the entire universe held its breath waiting for Guin to continue. She could tell the woman enjoyed every moment of it.

“I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the heraldry of Cambridge nobility, but let me assure you that in all of England, there is no—“

From the patio entrance, the footman interrupted in a booming voice to announce the arrival of a late guest of note. “Baron Killian Jones.”

Emma had to grab Arthur’s arm to keep from falling when her knees buckled. In the soft light, the Captain looked like a fantasy. His dark hair mussed in a way that looked intentional, but she knew it resulted from repeatedly running his hand through it when he was frustrated. He was outfitted in a tuxedo, the crisp white shirt making his stubble seem even more dangerous in the moonlight. He surveyed the crowd looking for her, supremely unconcerned he had the attention of the entire party.

Arthur looked at the mysterious stranger and then took in her aghast expression and whispered, “Do you know him?”

At that moment, Killian’s eyes met hers and the heat she saw there made it difficult to think, much less speak. “Yes. Yes, I know him.”

“Right. All hope isn’t lost then,” Arthur said with forced cheerfulness as he disengaged her death grip on his arm and went to greet their visitor. In a loud voice, so nobody would have to strain to hear, he said, “Welcome to my home, my dear Baron. It’s been a long time since we’ve met.”

Despite the fact the men had never laid eyes on each other before, Emma observed the Captain as he quickly assessed the lay of the land and responded, “Yes, years and years. I hope you don’t mind me trespassing on your hospitality. I only just arrived in town and the hotel staff informed me my wife was spending the weekend here. I couldn’t wait to see her.”

“With such a charming companion, no one blames you,” Guinevere said smoothly, giving Sidney a look meant to quell any further talk and rushing to meet their newest arrival. “She’s kept us all so diverted this past week.”

Giving the woman a slight grin, he nodded. “I’m sure. She’s nothing if not diverting.”

Moving away from the Soberanos, he took the stairs two at a time until he was standing in front of her, mouth twisted in amusement and eyes on fire. He seemed to drink in the sight of her from the artless way the curls were falling down her back to how her hand was white-knuckled from holding on to a nearby chair.

“You found me.” Somehow her words sounded like both an accusation and a thank you. Her eyes searched his face for some clue as to why he was there.

“Did you ever doubt I would?”

Before anything else could be said, he pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers. Plundering her mouth, not caring they had an audience numbering in the hundreds, he shifted his grip, one hand making its way to her hair and cradling the back of her head. The other drifted lower, moving her body until it pressed against the long length of his. The thin fabric of her dress allowed the heat of him to soak through to her skin which suddenly felt tight and she was desperate for more contact.

She leaned into him, allowing her hands finally to comb through the hair that had haunted her dreams. The silky strands provided a contrast to the rough drag of his facial scruff against her cheek, the feeling of him in her arms doing exactly what she wanted almost pushing her into sensory overload. She didn’t think, who could when faced with such an onslaught, her body moving on instinct. She moaned into his mouth, tongues tangling and tasting of champagne and need.

A throat cleared in the distance and reality came crashing back. Reluctantly, Killian pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and breathing unevenly.

With quiet wonder, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I was hungry to see my little wife.”

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[england-kirkland-bottoms]

Making America Jealous Story 1

Supposed to be a short drabble like the other ones. I had too much fun writing it out *sweatdrop* Anyway, I didn’t write out any smut scenes but if you want to read tell me and I ‘ll post it some other time! Well have fun reading!

Endearing. Sweet. Bubbly. That’s how he would describe America in their relationship if someone were to ask and truth be told, England craves for a little bit more in their relationship. He loves America, he always does. He had love the boy since the day he found the young nation at the field till this very day. Albeit it changed from platonic to a romantic.

Their relationship...is cute. Hell, even sex with the American country was vanilla.

Yes, England is very much aware that he is complaining but he craves for a little bit of excitement once in awhile. Though he had no idea on how to bring their relationship to a little bit of detour from the sweet, cheesy romantic path.

“Yo, Arthur!”

He heard someone yell his human name and he stopped walking, turning his head around towards the direction where the voice came from. To his surprise it was the ex-nation running his way, waving his hands like a lunatic. “Gilbert.” England wondered what the ex-nation could be doing here in London.

“Man, we haven’t gone drinking for a long time. Let’s go have an awesome drink at an awesome pub!” Prussia immediately slung an over England’s shoulders.

“Ah, I’d rather not.” England frowned, it was a sudden invitation but then again when did Prussia ever do things normally?

Prussia groaned, and started walking. Dragging the Briton along with him. “Nope, no objections!” He said, taking a page out of America’s book. “Let’s go singing! We can go to this karaoke place I just found, they serve liquor too so we can get smash and sing!” He whooped and ignored the protests coming from England.

Eventually England sighed and stopped protesting when they had already entered the place Prussia was bringing him to. Realizing it was useless. America was coming to visit and had finished his work rather early. It was just a coincidence that Prussia was in the vicinity for whatever odd reason he just could not be bothered to figure out. He took out his mobile phone and texted his American lover.

You know where the spare key is. Prussia dragged me to a karaoke bar. I will be back home at 23:00 p.m. Here’s the address if you decide to drop by instead.

Xx xxxxx, xxxxxxx xxxxx

He pressed the sent button and put it away. Might as well enjoy himself since he was already here. “Everything is on you since you forcefully dragged me here.” He said pointedly to Prussia.

“No problem! Everything’s going into West’s tab!” Prussia grinned, already handing the credit card to pay for the room and the drinks he had ordered while England was distracted.

England shook his head slightly, only pitying Germany a tad.

“Well, come on! Don’t keep the awesome me waiting.” Prussia dragged the Brit towards the room they were given.

A smirk appeared on England’s lips, hanging out alone with Prussia will always bring back his younger self. More specifically both of their younger self during their punk phase. The time that they both had been incredibly close to each other.

Several drinks later...

“England, you’re drunk.” Prussia said in amusement, he himself was tipsy though England was obviously worse. England can never hold his liquor well. “Your turn by the way.” He handed the microphone to England as the next song started to play.

“Shut up, you wanker.” England scoffed, pouring for himself more liquor and drank it down. They had abandoned the punk genre a few songs ago and had even started singing songs from other countries.

Well, Prussia had mostly been singing England’s as there was no other options. It was so unawesome. Ignoring the logic that they were in fact in London.  Prussia whistled at the title of the song. “Dang, man. Give a good show for the awesome Prussia!” Raising up the excitement.

England, being drunk, smirked. He had already off with his stuffy clothes, the vest and coat strewn on the sofa. Leaving him in a half unbuttoned white dress shirt and rolled up sleeved. And pants. A very snug, fitting pants. His trousers laying on the sofa with the rest of his clothes. The room was kept dark so that no one would notice his state of undress.

Prussia had turned off the lights before he was tipsy and England already showing signs of being drunk from his cockney accent.

England took the microphone and started singing along though as the song goes, he started deviate from the original lyrics, changing it slightly. Swaying along to the teasing in a teasing manner as he strode over towards Prussia. The alcohol convincing him to tease the ex-nation.

I know what you wants is to get my love

You wish we could be just like Johnny and June

You'd cut out my heart and let me in the room

 Prussia gulped, suddenly feeling nervous when England threw him a saucy smile. His green eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Uh oh.’ He thought to himself.

 And you know you, you should quit this

And you'd do it if you could

I’m a hot mess, but you confessed

Damn, I got you good

 England leaned forward and let the microphone dropped on to the sofa before straddling his companion, his lips still singing along to the song. His hands both on Prussia’s shoulder. He smirked and leaned even closer, whispering the second line teasingly into the stunned ex-nation’s ear.

Despite the loud music, Prussia could clearly hear the ex-empire singing due to their closeness. He shivered involuntarily at the warm breath on his ear. The Briton was too seductive when he wants to be. He had forgotten how the Brit could get like this sometimes.

England rolled his hips against Prussia as he sang the fourth line after pulling back slightly, licking his lips as he stared into the red eyes that was looking at him with a sense of smug.

 'Cause you love them bad boys doin' bad things

Lookin' hot with an attitude

Love them bad boys like a bad dream

Shouldn't want me, but you do

Singin'

All the bad boys singin'

Yeah, all the bad boys singin'

And you can't help it, no

Damn, it feels good when you're messin' with a bad boy

 England’s hands trailed down from the shoulders to the arms and brought them to touch his bare thighs. The drunken nation returned the smug smile when the other was taken by surprise at the implied permission to touch.

Prussia caressed the soft thighs, he had not touched the Briton for decades and truth be told the sight of the cheeks flushing from the influence of alcohol was getting him worked up. He had not planned for things to go this way but he was not about to reject a permission to some touching...and exploring.

England leant forward, hands touching the sofa, and swayed his hips along to the notes from the song still playing then his hips moved an array of rolls. Lips singing the song in the most seductive way. Gradually he leant back, wrapping his left hand around Prussia’s neck and waved her body against Prussia followed with a shimmy.

  Got a body like a fast car, movie star

You'd do anything to be my bodyguard

I like gettin' naked and swimmin' in pools

I make it look sexy to break all the rules

Falling too fast, you might crash

But once you go in bad you know you can't go back

You just wanna watch every way that I move

 Prussia enjoyed the sensual pleasure going through him. Feeling drunk and intoxicated from the lust England was exuding when the Englishman started grinding down on him in a tantalizing sway. He growled faintly as his hands gripped on the waist.

England pulled away slightly and took pleasure as Prussia’s eyes followed his movement, singing the third line to the third verse, he unbuttoned more of his dress shirt and let it dropped down from his shoulders though he did not took it off. Knowing the delectable view it made to have it halfway dropped down to his elbow.

The hypnotizing lips came close to Prussia’s own as he leant down closer once again. He could almost feel those lips moving against his as England sang though it was probably just his minds illusion. It does not matter, as England had trailed those lips along his jaw and once again whispered the lyric of the song into his ear. “Watch every way that I move.” Prussia’s breathing hitched as one of England’s hands brushed over the tent that started forming since England started the show.

“England.” He croaked, bucking his hips up though that was all he managed before the door to their room was burst open violently and England jumped off the ex-nation.

England sobered up almost instantly. “America.”

The super nation looked anything but pleased by the situation. “England.” He said calmly, the waves of anger carefully suppressed. “We’re going back, put on your clothes. Now!” He then glared at the ex-nation and pointed out the door without glancing away. “And you. OUT!”

“America, dude, totally unawesome. I was about to get some.” Prussia complained, trying to ignore the waves of anger that America was having difficulties controlling.

“From MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND! If you know what’s good for you, you better fucking  leave you fuck.” He growled, his hands balling into a fist.

Red eyes widened, he had not known that. He gulped and glanced over at the Brit, which proved to be the wrong thing to do as he was suddenly thrown out the tiny room. “Mein Gott, America! I’ll leave, I’ll leave!” He said before scrambling off.

America turned back to his now fully dressed lover, who now supported a guilty expression. He strode over to the older nation and gripped his arms tightly, unintentionally harsh though he ignored the pained wince as he dragged the English out of the place. His grip not lessening until they got to America’s ride.

England could not say anything, knowing he was at fault.

America literally threw him into the front seat of the car before closing the door and climbing in to the driver’s seat. He did not spoke a word the entire drive back to England’s house, though the anger was clear in his blue eyes and furrowed brows.

England had never seen America looking like that and despite everything, the fear and worry, it excites him.

“Out.” America said, parking the car easily outside the house. He climbed out and went to drag England that was moving distastefully slow. “Hurry the fuck up.” He gritted his teeth.

“America, just now...” England was cut off from saying his next words as his breath was knocked out of him when he was carelessly slammed against the nearest wall once they entered the abode. His back and head throbbed painfully.

America pinned both of England’s hands above him, kicking the door close. “Don’t even try to justify yourself, England. You were cheating, there is no other words for it.”

“I was not!” England protested, squirming around. The tight grip on his wrists was painful. “Fucking hell, I was drunk America!”

“Not a good enough excuse.” America tightened his grip, knowing that it hurts. “Do you want to know, how I see it?” He questioned, pressing the wrists even harder against wall painfully and England whined at the pain. America ignored it. “I had to convince the bitch at the front table to tell your room number and then paid for my entry. All the other rooms were all light up but imagine yours were dark. Then you know what I see when I peered into the tiny glass on the door to confirm that I did not get the wrong room?” He seethed. “MY BOYFRIEND STRADDLING A BLOODY FUCKER!”

England flinched at the volume of America’s voice.

“I was so shocked and then you had to just fucking PALM HIM DID YOU, YOU SLUT!” Spewing the last words, America pressed their lips together. Teeth clashed against teeth as he mauled England’s mouth.

England felt his knees weakening from the heady pleasure that shot down through him at the possessive and authoritative behaviour America was showing. He was aroused by it. More so than when he was teasing Prussia before, that was amusing but this...America being jealous and possessive was arousing. Soon after, he responded just as desperately into the kiss. The hands that had been pinning on his had let go and instead tearing apart the Briton’s clothes before sliding down the bare skin. Then those rough hands settled over his ass. He groaned as those hands started to grope him roughly.

America pulled away from England’s lips and trailed kissed along the jaw and bit the Brit’s left ear. “You’re mine.” He growled in an undertone.

“Yours.” England agreed, moaning lowly. “Yours, oh god, Alfred.” He whimpered America’s human name as the super nation teased him further.

“We’ll have to make sure of that, don’t we?” America whispered in his ear, making it clear to England that it was going to be a long, rough night.

And he shivered in delight anticipation.

[ciestessde]

Chapter 13

I cannot dream. But I can sleep.

[Beginning]

Tess is not a morning person in this form -- even when it's not the literal morning. Rejoining her as she is waking up in the mid-afternoon, I discover her thoughts are consumed by the desire to return to sleep; in this moment, she wants almost nothing more than to simply let go of consciousness. Prompted by that, I decide… this "morning"… is a good morning for me to "sleep."

Although I'm still here, inside Tess's body and mind, I do not participate. I am simply… "along for the ride." To not think, after so many hours of consuming information… It is a relief I've found to be similar to resting after a large meal. Contentment.

.

Tess stretches. There's a familiar emptiness in the pit of her stomach; one that has nothing to do with hunger. Rather, it is because it is yet another day, and she must spend it, yet again, doing things she dislikes. All in order to get an outcome she desires later on. She wishes, again, that she could return to sleep. She never slept as an Illuniran. They did not require it. But it is one of the many "alien aspects" that she has taken a liking to. She finds it comforting -- well worth the exchange of waking up afterwards. And indeed, as she slides her legs out from under the warm covers, she wakes up fully and all thoughts of sleep vanish, her resentment toward waking fading with each step.

The building is completely silent, as Tess is the only one required to be awake at this hour. Not stopping to eat, she summons the wolf pup to her side so it can accompany her to work. She "found" a job running a little pub -- to help establish a relationship with the locals. It is an easy job for her, and tonight goes no different: Tess serves food and drink to a few late-night customers, easily avoids a brawl breaking out by singing one of her songs, and she cleans the place before her shift ends.

And lastly, she makes a couple sandwiches before leaving -- to start the day's real work…

Which means it's time for me to "wake up."

The sun is setting behind her as Tess knocks on the door of Lucy's house. A familiar face answers, Van Helsing's eye peeking through the crack in the door. When he sees Tess, he disappears inside for a moment, then opens the door just long enough to allow her in. Without a word, Tess walks past the vampire hunter and the sleeping Dr. John "Jack" Seward, entering one of the bedrooms along the hallway.

"I brought sandwiches!" Tess says cheerfully. < As much as the white garlic flowers hanging from the walls and windowsill make me nauseous… I must admit they're pretty. > < The moonlight coming through the window is quite beautiful, too. Especially the way it gleams off of the silver cross on the door- > -Tess snorts a little. Just like she does every time she sees that thing. < I just can't believe they actually think those work! >

She locks the door behind her (can't have any interruptions) and sets the basket down on the dresser. Mina, Lucy's close friend, gets up from the chair next to Lucy's bed, walking over to her. Lucy stirs in her sleep; humming quietly, she sits up in bed and brushes her hair out of her eyes. "You brought our favorites again, didn't you?" Lucy whispers. "Of course~!" Tess hands Mina the two wrapped packages, and Mina takes them back over to Lucy, handing her one. They each carefully unwrap the paper, trying not to get crumbs on anything. Their first bites are accompanied by sounds of approval.

Tess glances at the chair. Normally, she'd have needed to wake them both. "So Helsing is having you stay up to watch her too, now?" Tess addresses Mina. Mina swallows, then admits, "He's getting frustrated. He's still convinced that it's a vampire causing Lucy's health to worsen, but…" She gets a strange look on her face, part guilt and part… resignation, maybe? "Well, of course nothing is working to stop it, so he's resorted to… this." "Mm," Tess nods, "I'm sure the men aren't much better?"

Lucy grimaces. She lowers her sandwich. < I think that's a "no." > "I wish I could tell them. But Dr. Helsing -- Every word he speaks to them, they take as gospel." Tears form in her eyes. "I just-" Mina sets her sandwich on the bed, leans over and hugs her.

< Well, this is uncomfortable. > Tess fiddles with the handle of a drawer on the dresser behind her. "I am sorry it's taking so long to prepare-" "-No. No, it's fine," says Lucy, pulling away from Mina's arms. "I'm grateful for what you're doing for me. Every night you come here, you risk getting caught."

"Yes, well," Tess turns and adjusts the basket, "It's much easier, now, with Mina's help. And, frustrations aside…" she smiles, "Jack only meant to help you by calling Helsing here. I don't hold that man's actions against any of you. "I mean, really," Tess chuckles, turning back with a mischievous look on her face, "how could you possibly have known Jack's old work buddy moonlighted as a vampire hunter?"

"Still, you're my friend just as much as Jack is. And Mina. And… And all of you…" < Oh no. She has that look she wears when she's about to go into an "I'm-sorry/Thank-you"-cycle! > < Nooo! I hate it when she does that! All that repetition! Please cut her off! > Lucy switches her gaze between Tess and Mina, "You're all doing so much for me. I just wish-" "-Alright, that's enough. Eat up," Tess teases, "Or will I be going hungry tonight?" "Oh! Right!"

Quickly (< And yet, still somehow ladylike. I wish I knew how she does that! >), Lucy finishes her sandwich, then holds out her right arm. < No matter how many times I do this, it still makes me feel a little… Well, not annoyed, just… awkward. > Avoiding eye contact, Tess walks over to her. Without hesitation, she takes her arm and bites. But, like always, that feeling of awkwardness disappears when Tess tastes her blood: This body's primal instincts kick in, and, instead, she's struggling to hold herself back from drinking too much.

< It's always so disappointing to not get my fill. > I play Xihrae's voice inside her head: < "Only just enough." > < I know, I know… > < Just enough to continue turning Lucy into a vampire. > < Just enough to keep Abraham Van Helsing frustrated. >

< Just enough to keep Helsing hunting US- > < -so that we, in turn, can hunt HIM. >

Finished, Tess licks the remaining blood from her lips. Lucy pulls the sleeve of her nightgown down, hiding the many pairs of pinpricks in her skin. How Hellsing manages to keep track at this point is a mystery.

"Will it be much longer? Before she turns," Mina asks. Tess walks back to the dresser, lifting the basket before answering, "Probably one more month. We should have the house ready, and Lucy's 'death' should be believable by then. Well. To everyone other than…" Tess doesn't look behind her, but she can feel worry coming from Mina's aura and Lucy's increased sadness. She puts a smile in her voice, "But, like you said. They've gone to this much trouble to help you. I'm certain, when the time comes, that they'll be nothing short of ecstatic-!"

Lucy's desperate voice interrupts her, "-And how long before then? Before… before I can tell them?" Tess hovers in front of the door. She turns, wearing a closed-eyed smile -- and a mischievous smirk. "Not long. It's just a matter of waiting for the right moment!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[dorothydelgadillo]

Movies, Music, & Marketing: 6 Lessons That Led My Career to IMPACT

In order to understand any story, you have to start at the beginning.

Mine began on the South Shore of Massachusetts about 20 minutes south of the city.

Yes, I have a Boston accent. Yes, I like clam chowder and lobster. No, I will not say “park my car at Harvard Yard.”

My parents raised me to always have an open mind; to be open to learning and most importantly, to be creative.

I was very lucky to have that support system.

Both my parents had successful careers in the entertainment industry prior to having me. My mother is an incredible dancer and performer, having appeared in multiple Broadway shows with likes of Bob Fosse and Ginger Rogers.

My father is also quite the entertainer as well. He is a singer/songwriter who was known as the “Tom Jones of France” during the late 60’s and early 70’s. He’s sold over 26 million records throughout his career.

Their unique experiences directly led to their overwhelming support for me, my dreams, and my passions -- and was ultimately what lead me to where I am today.

Starting Young

At a very young age, I became obsessed with making videos.

I would steal my dad’s VHS camcorder any chance I could to shoot sketches, stories, and recreations of my favorite Hollywood films.

I’m not going to lie, I was no Steven Spielberg, but I will blame some of that on the camera weighing about as much as I did.

That passion developed over time as I practiced and honed my skills.

I furthered that pursuit by attending the Film and TV program at the Savannah College of Art and Design, taking as many workshops as I could in my free time.

I pushed my way onto any set or production that would have me and watched countless YouTube and other tutorial videos for inspirational ways to hone my skills.

I have always been completely obsessed with pushing the boundaries of what’s possible to further my experience and grow as an artist. That passion carried me into my professional career.

Directly after college, I had the opportunity to spend time in LA working on a few independent feature films. That was largely due to an incredible professor I had my senior year.  

He was a successful producer turned teacher working on movies like “The Breakfast Club” and “Fried Green Tomatoes”. Needless to say, I learned an incredible amount from him.  

After that, I pursued an opportunity in the Atlanta area shooting music videos as a freelancer for Capitol Records and Sony BMG. I became one of their regular “go-to” cinematographers/camera operators, most notably working on projects with the likes of Lil Wayne, Birdman, Rick Ross, and Travis Porter.

The experience I gained was invaluable at the time, but I also learned how difficult being a freelancer can be.

This led me to the first big lesson that shaped my career…

1. I Wanted Stability.

The phrase “feast or famine” comes to mind when I think about this time and honestly, it was the truth.

I would be overwhelmingly busy with a shoot making great money one day, then the shoot would end and I would be jobless, hunting for my next gig the next. It was a bit unsettling, to say the least, and there didn’t seem to be much growth opportunity.

That’s when I made the decision to move back to Boston to reconnect with my roots and find my next career move.

The Agency Awakening

I had an opportunity to work at a medium-sized agency in the city as a shooter and editor.

It was consistent work that allowed me to still be behind the camera. -- That’s what I told myself anyway.

I wasn’t there for very long before I started to see some unsettling things, mostly around company culture and an overall inability to produce the best work we could for our clients.

I interviewed at a few other agencies and quickly realized they were all the same. It was the smoke and mirror show.

They all sold clients on how special their creative was, but never took the time to understand or educate them. This resulted in clients spending enormous amounts of money on “unique creative” that didn’t work.

It was all focused on creating a “shiny object” rather than understanding the clients’ needs. I always found that to be so disjointed and greedy.

If we don’t understand the audience personas we’re trying to appeal to, then how could we possibly come up with a creative way to capture them?

My concerns fell on deaf ears. It quickly became apparent that if I wanted to truly help clients succeed while also pursuing my passions, it wouldn’t be in the agency world -- at least not one run by someone else.

This is where I learned my second lesson.

2. It’s Not Just About Money

I genuinely wanted to help my clients, not just take their money and at my old company, I was alone in that regard.

I explained this to two childhood friends over drinks at a local pub one evening and that’s when the light bulb went off.

“What if we start our own company and do it better than everyone else,” I said.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but my friends agreed. I was 22 at the time. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. We all did.

That night was the beginning of what turned into GEM Advertising.

My friends and I became co-partners and we officially started GEM in 2008, crammed into a small little office in North Haven, CT.

It was a tough time to start a company as the US economy was literally in the toilet, however, it made us a scrappy bunch. It forced us to be inventive and make things happen on a shoestring budget.

As we slowly picked up momentum, we gained some excellent clients and grew immensely.

The company's growth was a direct result of our pursuit to go above-and-beyond for our clients. We focused on creating winning situations that yielded positive results. We had a laser focus on building trust with our clients by showing them real results, in hopes that they would do more business with us or even refer others.

We started as a creative consulting and video production company, but the emergence of social media business tools and inbound marketing quickly shifted our focus.

Even if we didn’t know exactly how to do something, I knew we would do whatever was necessary to figure it out -- And we did.

That’s when we started to realize the importance of hiring experts to fulfill the new demand in these emerging technologies and I encountered my third lesson.

3. The Importance of Hiring

The growing demand gave us the opportunity to hire incredibly talented people.

We searched to find like-minded individuals, focused on creating winning situations for our clients as much as we were.

We had to put the right people in the right seats in order to deliver on time, on budget, and in a stellar way.

I always thought of this team as the foundation of our organization. Without it, and everyone working towards the same thing, the house will eventually come crumbling down.

In the last quarter of 2012, we officially grew into a full-service ad agency. Our team, that started as three friends, became nearly 40 people across four offices.

Our success was a direct result of putting our clients and our team first -- my fourth lesson.

4. Building Trust & Forging Relationships

Relationships define who we are and how we interact with others.

At our very core, as human beings, it establishes a baseline for trust. That’s why it’s fundamentally important to me as a person. It’s what enables us to do the best work for clients and makes peers want to send work our way.

I spent a little over a decade at GEM growing relationships this way and telling creative stories for the clients we served.

In 2017 we were named the 3rd fast growing company in the state of CT and #725 on Inc.’s 5000 fast-growing companies list. It was an incredible growth experience for me on both a personal and professional level.

However, like anything in life, with growth comes change.

5. Embrace Change

Towards the end of 2017, the company shifted to meet the demand of new clients. It was a great move for the company, but on a personal level, it wasn’t in alignment with my passions and goals.

Without going into too much detail, it became apparent that I needed to make a change and pursue my passions. Meaning, it was time to part ways with my friends and work family.

It was one of the hardest and scariest decisions I’ve ever had to make.

I remember feeling so lost, but it also helped me discover so much about myself.

It motivated me to revert back to my young entrepreneurial self and I launched my second company; Dutch Lion Productions, as a chance to focus on my passion for telling stories through film and video.

Thankfully, I had success right out of the gate with some of the strong relationships I formed over the years.

I was on locations/sets shooting projects left and right. Not too shabby for a one-man band and, most importantly, I was happy.

But that was it. Only I was happy.

I was working alone. I started to miss the collaborative environment I was so accustomed to; Having people to bounce ideas and give advice is invaluable as a creative.

It became more and more apparent as time went on. It was here that I realized how much I liked being a part of a team. I wanted that again.

6. Teamwork Makes The Dream Work

The biggest lesson I learned as a creative happened relatively early in my career.

I learned that I could do well on my own, but I could accomplish so much more with a team of like-minded people.

Not just accomplish but exceed my own creative expectations. Those types of situations are what I constantly strive to discover.

And Then, There Was IMPACT

Life is all about timing. Again, one of my strong relationships that stemmed out of my time at GEM was with a gentleman by the name of Chris Duprey.

He and I hit it off immediately when we first met. During one of our usual hangouts, we discussed that I had left my company and was venturing out on my own.

I could tell by the look on his face that something was brewing in that mind of his. Without pause, he said you need to come work at IMPACT.

We laughed at his remark but he then repeated… “no seriously.”

Chris is a very genuine and intelligent guy, so I figured it was worth seeing what IMPACT was all about.

After a little research, I was hooked. The company culture and core values at IMPACT totally aligned with my own personal values and everything I had learned over the years.

It was almost uncanny. I couldn’t believe how in tune it all felt.

Honestly, not to sound cliche, it felt like everything I learned through my experiences directly contributed to becoming a part of the IMPACT family. Everything that I strived to be and hoped to accomplish aligned perfectly with their core values.

Needless to say, I was very much interested to learn more and explore opportunities.

The inbound model is something that truly resonates with me.

I say that because I’ve always strived to not just sign clients, but truly help them. It stems from my perspective about relationships. Inbound is all about fostering strong relationships. Rather than telling people what to do, it allows us to educate people. I love the idea of giving people the tools to make an informed decision. That to me is worth more than anything. Not to mention it makes logical sense!

I’ve never felt so in alignment with something before. The opportunities at IMPACT are very bright. I’m pleased, humbled, and excited to be apart of such an incredible team.

Being passionate can’t be taught and at IMPACT, passion oozes out of every facet of its being.

As the creative director, I feel that it’s only fitting to quote a fellow creative director. (Fictional or not)

As the famous Don Draper once said, “If you don’t like what people are saying, change the conversation.”

We all have the ability to control the conversation.

The question I ask you all is this; what message do you want to convey? What mark do you want to be remembered for by your friends, family, clients and the world at large?

What can you do that will make a lasting IMPACT.

from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/lessons-that-lead-my-career-to-impact

[happynowidiot-blog-blog]

Penny and I slept in George’s bed on Saturday.

Don’t get your hopes up, dears, there was not a wild tequila induced threesome. There actually wasn’t any tequila involved at all. Penny, Shahida, and I met up with Penny’s friend Ellesse from school and went to Greenwich to watch the fireworks for Bonfire Night. Ellesse is super nice and incredibly pretty. On our walk to the fireworks we mentioned that we might meet up with George and Penny immediately told her that I had dibs. We got to the place where the fireworks where being set off and got food (just crappy burgers but we were starving). It was properly cold out. I had my wool-lined Converse on and a cashmere sweater over two tank tops all underneath my coat. I even had my gloves and hat on. Penny and Shahida had tights on under their jeans and sweaters under their coats. We were still cold but it was a good cold. It’s the type of cold you dream about on really hot days in the summer. It’s November and it feels like it should.

The fireworks were really good and afterwards all we wanted was a pub and drink so we could warm up. We were in the middle of Lewisham and the amount of people meant that there was no service on our phones so we couldn’t get ahold of George. We picked a group of people and decided to follow them to see if they led us towards a pub. We walked towards Greenwich and George’s texts from earlier started coming through. I missed a call from a blocked number and we knew it was him but calling him back made his phone go straight to voicemail. We ended up in the huge crowds of people trying to find somewhere to go and George called Penny from a blocked number. We were literally standing in front of a pub called George and the Dragon. Hilarious. We eventually found him in the mass of people and followed him, Esam, and Other George (that’s literally how we referred to him all night) to the bar he brought Penny and I to last time we were in Greenwich.

We got drinks and kind of just stood around talking because there were no free tables. George had on a gray beanie type of hat and hipster glasses. He looked hilarious with a black scarf around his neck and a leather necklace over his white t-shirt. Other George is less attractive with his shirt on but he’d genuinely a cool guy. Our collective love for Esam is growing by the minute. He’s just such a chill guy and totally nice. Ellesse is also really nice but unpredictably a light weight. Like legit. She apparently got wasted off of four shots of Absolut once. Four. I’m embarrassed for her. She had a beer and was standing a little too close to George for me to be comfortable. I signaled to Penny and she ran interference. Literally. She walked up and stood in between them. Shahida, Ellesse, and I did a shot of vodka at the bar and the guys mentioned a dorm party they’d been invited to at Greenwich Uni.

We were walking there when Penny realised we were across the street from the Mexican bar we’d gone to that night. She stopped, turned to George and said, “Blow jobs! Blow jobs! Blow jobs!” I joined in after a second to make the connection and George smirks at us and says, “What, right here on the corner?” We dragged him across the street and marched up the the bar. He owed us those shots anyway but told us to order one for the six of us, his treat. It was a bit much to be in that bar with all those people. Penny and I kept looking at each other and having flashbacks. We did our shots (that Esam ended up paying for because George forgot his card. We all really believe him) and then continued to the dorm party. That was a ridiculous experience. It was a sociologists dream. The body language of everyone in that party towards us was so negative. Literally everyone faced away from us the whole time. We were talking to this guy (not flirting, just saying hey) and this girl walked up grabbed his arm and glared at us. She glared at Penny and Penny wasn’t even talking to the guy.

Esam left for a bit to meet with his dealer (who’s in his phone as ‘Dan’s Still The Man’) and then came back to collect us. We jumped on the DLR and then a bus back to guys’ house. We sat in their kitchen and smoked for a couple hours just talking. It’s probably a good thing that weed just makes me freak out considerably less then normal because Ellesse kept moving closer the George. At one point she was touching his leg (he made a joke about only one of his socks went to his knees) and Penny and Shahida immediately panicked. I was a little annoyed by it but couldn’t quite get myself to freak out at that point. George had socks on that had guitars on them. It may have actually been the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He rolled a spliff and Kareem (Esam’s brother) took it apart and re-made it and George goes, “It’s like I gave my son a toy for Christmas and he asked for the receipt.” All I could think at that point was, “OMG he wants a son? That’s adorable!” Penny apparently thought the same thing and then had this image of him sitting underneath a Christmas tree holding a fire truck. It’s a beautiful image. This whole time Ellesse was sitting really close to him and at one George legitimately got up and moved. That was kind of awesome.

We decided to watch the Little Rascals so we all piled into the living room while George youtubed it. The quality was actually awesome once he connected his laptop to their giant tv. Esam and Penny shared the couch, Ellesse and Shahida both were in armchairs, and I stole the beanbag and perched at Shahida’s feet. George went to get comfy and came in pajamas which in his case included his gray stocking hat and hipster glasses complete with a green sleeping bag he was literally walking around in. He sat on the ground at Penny’s feet and looked so much like a caterpillar that I was dying. At one point he got up and went to get something and Penny goes, “With the glasses, doesn’t he look like a bookworm?” I literally cried I laughed so hard. It was so legit. The fact that there isn’t a picture of him like that makes me so sad. The movie was adorable. I haven’t seen it since I was like 5 and really liked watching it again. Even the boys laughed at it. After it finished we watched some really crap tv for awhile and then gave up to go to bed. It was after 4:30 at this point. Oh, one other thing, it is freezing in this house. So completely cold that we were shaking until we made George go get us all blankets.

Esam had said we could have his bed earlier that night and then offered George’s bed as well. Shahida and Ellesse took Esam’s double bed and as you’ve probably already guessed, Penny and I shared George’s single. That bed, by the way is the single most uncomfortable thing ever. Oh my jesus. How is George not in pain all the time? Do not understand. Anyways, the best part about this whole situation is that since Esam and George slept in the living room Penny and I got to snoop unperturbed around George’s room. That was fun. He has a bunch of music theory books and a ridiculous plaid fedora hanging off a shelf (there’s a hilarious picture of me wearing it on Penny’s iPhone). He has a straightener with a converter on the end which means that he brought it with him from Dubai. He has library books next to his bed and a hilarious bookmark with a badger on it. There’s a postcard leaning against the wall that upon further investigation proved to be from his grandmom (could this be more adorable? Answer: no). There’s a post-it on his desk about a jazz club and a London atlas squished next to an Idiot’s Guide to Music Theory on his bookshelf. The Liverpool scarf is undisturbed and the clothes he’d worn that day were folded over the chair.

After I was at the point where I was going to have to go through his closet or dvd case (neither seemed like intelligent ideas) so I turned the light off and cuddled under the duvet with Penny. Both of us were tired but were definitely too high to sleep so we talked for a couple hours. Holy shit, hilarious conversation. Such complete stoner logic going on. At one point we realised that McDonald’s would be serving breakfast and almost cried with happiness. We spent a few minutes saying “Threeeeesome” over and over again to see if George would suddenly be compelled to walk into the room. He didn’t (I was slightly disappointed). At one point we talked about how Ellesse and Shahida couldn’t party with the big dogs. We reached the conclusion that Myles doesn’t understand that as 19 year old girls we were going to date/crush on/hook up with guys who are bad for us. Penny said that her mom was a major partier when she was younger and her dad smoked pot and now they’re the most responsible, well-adjusted people she knows. I said that it’s because of their life experience. Penny then predicted that we’ll get drunk one day and end up saying, “George, you’re our life experience!”. To which, of course, he’ll respond with “Is that an invitation?”

We fell asleep for about an hour and woke up when Penny’s alarm went off at 8. I did not want to move even a little bit. I wasn’t exactly comfortable but it was warm underneath the blanket and I was exhausted. Penny got up and took the duvet with her which meant that I had to follow because it was freezing in my jeans and tank top. We stuck our heads into the living room and Esam was sprawled out on the couch snoring. George, however, had put the arm chairs together and was literally cuddling his duvet, like wrapped himself around it like a teddy bear. So fucking adorable. I knew he’d be a cuddler.

We went upstairs and woke the girls up and the stole toast from the kitchen because we were starving. Other George was leaving for work and offered to drive us to the train station (like in a car! So exciting!) so we got dressed really quick and woke George and Esam up to say goodbye. George barely would open his eyes and Esam looked to exhausted to actually process the English language. He sat up so we could hug him and George remained horiziontal while we waved goodbye. Penny attempted a hug but failed. I reached over and ruffled his hair.

Other George dropped us off at the train station and we gradually made our way home. Penny, Shahida, and I stopped at McDonald’s on our way to the flat (hash browns are so glorious) and when we got home we collapsed. Shahida and I passed out in her bed and slept until Penny woke us up at 3 PM with cups of tea so we could make breakfast. We sat in Shahida’s bed and talked for a bit before this and I managed to refer to Esam as Eames. I realised that his name just seems like someone mixed up the letters in Eames because I see that so much more often. Shahida said I could probably start calling Esam that and he’d be ok with it. I know I could but then George would make call him Arthur and I’d actually have to kill myself. I then discovered that George’s neckalce that I’d stolen at the dorm party was still wrapped around my wrist. Whoops.

We told Esam about Thanksgiving and he’s really excited so he’s coming and we’re assuming that means he’s bringing George. And Friday they invited us to the club in Mayfair where Esam has a table. There are no words for how excited I am. It’s the kind of club where the table vodka is Grey Goose. Stoked. It probably won’t actually happen but it would be awesome if it did. We’ve never been to a club with George and when Penny, Shahida, and I realised that would put us in very short dresses in front of him we all had the same reaction: “That’s not gonna end well.”

I feel as though that’s a good summary for most of our nights. Ah, well. Isn’t that the point of college?