#Wait no if I fan-girl on him I will loose my honor...

[lisa972kdlz]

(The French version is below)

I just realized something.

About Dreamtale. Why we're so touched by this AU, and by the twins.

I just understood why Nightmare is so popular, why he touches us, why he touches ME, even though he's NOT my favorite character compared to Dream, Ace or Error.

Because we identify with his problems?

Yes.

Because we sympathize with his backstory?

Certainly.

Because we love drama and tentacles?

... Meh, for sure.

Because Dreamtale brings an extremely interesting symbolic theme about feelings?

Indeed.

Because fandom has developed the story of the two siblings in all its forms, and we've been taken on board without really realizing it by the fan creations - comics, drawings, fan fiction - that we discover as we go along?

Absolutly.

But that doesn't explain the intensity of this emotional involvement. Why did Nightmare inspire me so much, and still do today? Because very often MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SAOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUGNEU?! (Untranslatable in English, sorry QwQ)

And then I realised.

"The two siblings"...

Doesn't this story remind you of another?

I don't know why, but I get the impression that NOBODY makes this obvious parallel. At least I've never seen any comparative fanart or people talking about it.

The majority of Dreamtale fans are first and foremost Undertale fans, who went through the Gameplay, Let's play's, etc. before discovering the AU's. The majority have played or watched the game and discovered the Lore. Listened to the OSTs. Enjoyed the characters.

The majority witnessed the magnificent end of the Pacifist Timeline and the ensuing burst of tears.

And who, for God's sake, has never been touched by Asriel's fate? This child who died far too soon, who never meant any harm to anyone, who died because of a bad decision, then was resurrected as a sadistic, soulless being incapable of love?

Don't you think Night looks a lot like him? And that Dream is a cross between Frisk and Chara?

Not in personality, nor necessarily in the story, but in the way they touche the audience through their shared destiny.

Two siblings who love each other dearly are brutally separated by a quarrel in which one loses his life, transformed into a powerful, emotionless demon. The other sleeps for years before waking up, lost and confused... Then they embark on an adventure with a guide, discover the world that has evolved without them, grow up, meet new people, help, save.

And this co-dependent relationship. The demon is still a child at heart. He wants to play with his sibling, even to the point of committing atrocious acts to make them stay with him, even if it means taking their soul and killing them a million times over. But nostalgia takes hold of him again. Deep in his overpowering heart, he feels all the souls of the world bound together, he feels determination of monsters and humans, the love they have for each other. It's all too much for him. He succumbs to his feelings and bursts into tears. He apologizes. The two siblings reconcile.

It's the kind of story we'd all like to give Dream and Nightmare, isn't it?

We want to save Night.

But like Asriel, it's impossible. We all know by now that Corrupted Nightmare isn't Night, don't we? It's a revelation that hits us when we search a bit on the creator's Tumblr after reading the Prologue. The story leaves us no choice: he died five hundred years ago, and that remains unchanging. There is no hope.

He has to go. Become corrupt again. He has to die again. Because that's how it must be.

Yeah yeah, we love Sans in Undertale, he's pretty cool and the Multiverse revolves around him. But as soon as we play the game, it's Asriel we're crying for. For good reason, Dreamtale, the story that most closely resembles his tragedy, is one of the most popular universes. Is that chance? Or have we all unconsciously drawn the parallel?

Now, when I listen Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, one part of me thinks of Asriel and Chara, the other part thinks of Dream and Nightmare.

It was to save Asriel that fans started developing parallel universes. And it's to save Night that we're repeating the process.

It would have been a lot cooler to put Dream and Nightmare in Chara and Asriel's bodies, I think.

And the HELL you imagine CORRUPTED NIGHTMARE WITH THE APPEARANCE OF FULL-POWERED ASRIEL ????

Damn, I would have fan-girled instead of foe-girl on him I guess 🤔

Or for those who love big, ugly monsters, in PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY mode!

Delightfully nightmarish, I approve 👌✨!

____________________________________

Je viens de comprendre un truc.

À propos de Dreamtale. Pourquoi on est autant touché par cet AU, et par les jumeaux.

Je viens de comprendre pourquoi Nightmare est aussi populaire, pourquoi il nous touche, pourquoi il ME touche alors que POURTANT, ce n'est pas mon personnage préféré comparé à Dream, Ace ou Error.

Parce qu'on s'identifie à ses problèmes ?

Oui.

Parce qu'on compatie à sa backstory ?

Certainement.

Parce qu'on aime le drama et les tentacules ?

...Meh, à coup sûr.

Parce que Dreamtale apporte une thématique symbolique extrêmement intéressante à propos des sentiments ?

Tout à fait.

Parce que le Fandom a développé l'histoire des deux frères sous toutes les formes et que nous avons été embarqués sans trop s'en rendre compte par les créations des fans, comics, dessins, fanfictions, que nous découvrons au fur et à mesure ?

Absolument.

Mais voilà, tout ça a le bénéfice de me convaincre, mais ça n'explique toujours pas l'intensité de cette implication émotionnelle. Pourquoi Nightmare m'a autant inspirée et m'inspire encore aujourd'hui ? Alors que très souvent MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SÂOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUHGNEUH ?!

Et c'est là que j'ai réalisé.

"Les deux frères"...

Cette histoire ne vous en rappelle-t-elle pas une autre ?

Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais j'ai l'impression que PERSONNE ne fait ce parallèle pourtant évident. En tout cas je n'ai jamais vu de fanart comparatif ou de gens en parler.

La majorité des fans de Dreamtale est avant tout des fans d'Undertale, qui sont passés par le jeu travers le Gameplay, le Let's play, etc. avant de découvrir les AU's. La majorité a joué ou regardé le jeu et découvert le Lore. Écouté les OST. Apprécié les personnages.

La majorité a été témoin de la magnifique fin de la Timeline Pacifiste et de l'éclat de larmes qui en découle.

Et qui, bon sang mais qui, n'a jamais été touché par le destin d'Asriel ? Cet enfant mort bien trop tôt qui n'a jamais voulu de mal à personne, mort à cause d'une mauvaise décision, puis ressuscité en un être sadique et sans âme, incapable d'aimer ?

Vous ne trouvez pas que Night lui ressemble énormément ? Et que Dream serait le mélange de Frisk et de Chara ?

Pas dans la personnalité, ni dans l'histoire forcément, mais dans la manière dont il touche le public par leur destin commun.

Deux frères qui s'aiment énormément sont brutalement séparés par une dispute où l'un perd la vie, transformé en un démon surpuissant et dénué de sentiments. L'autre dort des années durant avant de se réveiller, perdu, confus... Puis il se lance à l'aventure en compagnie d'un guide, découvre le monde qui a évolué sans lui, grandit rencontre de nouvelles personnes, aide, sauve.

Et cette relation co-dépendante. Le démon est encore un enfant au fond de lui. Il veut jouer avec son frère, au point de commettre des actes atroces pour rester avec lui, même s'il doit s'emparer de son âme et le tuer un million de fois. Mais la nostalgie s'empare à nouveau de lui. Il sent au fond de son cœur trop puissant les âmes liées entres elles, il sent leur détermination, l'amour qu'ils ont les uns pour les autres. C'est beaucoup trop pour lui. Il succombe à ses sentiments et éclate en larmes. Il s'excuse. Les deux frères se réconcilient.

Belle histoire qu'on a tous envie de donner à Dream et Nightmare, pas vrai ?

On a envie de sauver Night.

Mais comme Asriel, c'est impossible. Nous savons tous à présent que Nightmare Corrompu n'est pas Night, n'est-ce pas ? C'est une révélation qui nous percute quand on cherche un peu sur le Tumblr de la créatrice après avoir lu le Prologue. L'histoire ne nous laisse aucun choix, il est mort il y a cinq-cents ans et cela reste immuable. Il n'y a aucun espoir.

Il doit s'en aller. Redevenir corrompu. Il doit mourir à nouveau. Parce que c'est comme ça que ça doit se passer.

Oui, on aime Sans dans Undertale, il est vachement cool et le Multivers tourne autour de lui. Mais dès qu'on joue au jeu, c'est pour Asriel qu'on pleure. Pour cause, Dreamtale, l'histoire qui ressemble le plus à sa tragédie, est l'un des univers des plus populaires. Un hasard ? Ou bien avons-nous tous fait inconsciemment le parallèle ?

Maintenant, quand j'écoute Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, une part de moi pense à Asriel et Chara, l'autre part pense à Dream et Nightmare.

C'est pour sauver Asriel que les fans ont commencé à développer des univers parallèles. Et c'est pour sauver Night qu'on réitère le processus.

Ça aurait été vachement plus cool de mettre Dream et Nightmare dans des corps de Chara et Asriel je pense.

Et bordel vous imaginez NIGHTMARE CORROMPU AVEC LA FORME D'ASRIEL FULL-POWER ????

Ah bah j'aurais peut-être fan-girlé au lieu de foe-girler pour le coup 🤔

Ou pour ceux qui aiment les gros monstres pas beaux, en mode PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY !

Délicieusement cauchemardesque, j'approuve 👌✨!

[teddypickerry]

Hey please can I request a Nikki Sixx x reader! Just a bit of jealous! Nikki, something along the lines of that there either at a music awards or some red carpet and the boys are off performing, and whilst waiting with the other s/os reader gets hit on by someone, and she plays into it, until the boys return and all hell breaks loose because no one flirts with Nikkis girl

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

pairings! 2000s nikki x younger gf

warnings! age gap couple (not specified age), i think that’s it

word count! 900

a/n! hi mfs. alive & thriving w another nikki fic. i didn’t specify his exact age or the readers. but it is hot 2000s nikki bc he is my bf (real). so. DEAL WITH ITTTT.

AS IF BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with a rockstar wasn't enough pressure from the public eye and his many (envious) female fans, music awards were pure stress. although your boyfriend, nikki, grew out of his phase of attending every spectacular event, you were still in attendance of a few of them. while nikki loved showing you off and having you there for support, you didn't quite enjoy it as much as you wished. although the thought of fangirling over your favorite musicians sufficed — you also had to deal with the overwhelming flood of hate directed at your relationship on social media the next morning.

it was always the same headlines. "nikki's downgraded to another twenty-year old" "y/n is hardly enough for a rockstar" "he's probably off cheating on her as per usual" or "i prefer nikki and his ex" it's just pure judgment of a relationship they haven't even witnessed. they don't see the love you share or how well the man treats you.

but the headlines truly didn't matter as much as supporting your boyfriend and his career, his passion. so, you found yourself sat at the rock 'n' roll hall of fame inductory evening. although mötley had yet to be awarded for their one of a kindness in the rock industry, they were still being honored tonight in the form of performing. which excited all four of them because whether or not they liked it, they would be performing infront of the most iconic and talented musicians. mick couldn't stop talking about jeff beck on the car ride over. he didn't want to fuck up in the god's presence.

but so far he'd done excellently during the beginning and chorus of 'kickstart my heart' which was a song having the crowd losing their shit. and quite honestly, so were you. you hadn't seen nikki perform too many times due to busy schedules and god was it hot. but as the hit came to the end, you noticed a man inching closer to you in his chair. he was only a few down from you but since the band was up on stage, they left you, their empty chairs, and tommy's girlfriend. you shot her an odd look as she glanced in the man's direction, shrugging it off. you decided to do the same until he filled your boyfriend's position beside you. which only made you ultimately uncomfortable.

"what's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone tonight? looking for eligible bachelors?" the man whispered towards you ear while the crowd roared in cheers for the notorious rock band. you simply rubbed your lips together without turning in his direction. your eyes locked on your boyfriend exiting the stage and heading backstage. "eligible bachelors?" you scoffed, simply annoyed with the toying of flirtation.

"yeah, some rich rocker... but you seem like a self-made typa woman," he quipped as his eyes travelled your tight fitting dress. your eyes finally caught a glimpse of him — recognizing him as some drummer in a rock band not so popular. but you knew him from your brother's crippling obsession with underground bands. "what does that even mean?"

"you've got a mouth on you..." he smirked while running a hand through his short dark hair as if he was all that. which only got on your nerves even more as you messed with your up-do, watching them announce commercial break upon the stage. but this guy wasn't letting go. "so are you an artist, producer, manager, a plus one, perhaps?"

"plus one." you responded with a glare as the man attempted to scoot closer to you. your thighs brushed for a moment before you shoved over to the next chair — visibly uncomfortable. "will you leave her alone?" tommy's girlfriend asked as she viewed the situation. the man furrowed his eyebrows before shooting a charming smile. "just making conversation."

you crossed your arms defensively as tommy's girlfriend shot you a sympathetic look. "so who're you with then, doll?" the drummer asked daringly. which only made you hold back an eye roll. "just saw him onstage."

"one of the old guys, cmon." he rolled his eyes as if it were nonsense. even though he couldn't be much younger than nikki himself. it was when nikki's death glare caught his attention that his eyes slightly widened. "old guys? will you get the fuck out of my chair before i deck you in the fucking face." sixx warned as the man stood up quickly and made his way towards the aisle and as far from the group as possible. slash laughed from the row behind. "jesus christ," you mumbled as nikki took a seat beside you. you scooted into him, back into your old seat. the rest of the band followed behind him and questioned the man practically drooling over you.

nikki wrapped an arm around you as you placed a kiss to his cheek. "thanks for saving me, rockstar." you whispered which made him smile slightly before going back to his 'hardcore rockstar' look. "yeah well, no one messes with nikki's girl."

"dumbass," tommy mumbled beside the in love nikki. all while the bassist was planning the ways he was going to fuck up the guy hitting on you after the show.

[cto10121]

R&J Clown Takes Round ♾ Part 12

In which there is a lot of sympathy for the devil parents, more Romeo the Death Eater-ing, and heartbreaking! One of my favorite shorts creators did a Rosaline skit and attracted all the clowns to her yard. I forgive her, but not the clownery. Hie-ho, and away we go

Sympathy For the Parents

‘If they only just talked to their poor parents, there would have been no tragedy!1!!1”

Yes, the Montague parents seem like nice people. They are concerned with Romeo’s odd behavior, Mama Montague dies of heartbreak when her son is banished, etc. Then again, Lord Capulet seemed like a very decent parent as well, refusing Paris’ suit and wanting to let at least two summers go by before Juliet can marry. And we all know how that went.

With regards to Lord Capulet, he is definitely characterized as a fair weather friend—if you are with him, it’s cool, but if you in any way threaten his authority…you’re a saucy boy and his fingers begin to itch. Lord Montague may be of that same ilk for all we know. Why else would Romeo trust Friar Lawrence with his crush over his own parents and even, er, Benvolio?

While it’s totally normal for teens to keep things to themselves, I think we can trust Romeo and Juliet’s assessment of their parents in terms of trust and reliability as an unfortunately correct one, at least when it comes to this. After all, the very first appearance of the lords is when they are threatening to kill each other. So yeah.

At least you know Paris as a paternalistic douche, OP. Small wonders.

Yes, it sucks that Paris died for virtually no reason at all. Guy wasn’t that bad. However, I must question this framing of Paris’ death as him dying to defend Juliet.

He does say that the Capulets believe that Juliet died out of grief of Tybalt’s death, and so blames Romeo for it. He also believes that Romeo is here “to do some villainous shame / To the dead bodies.” Not just Juliet, then, but Tybalt as well. He then tries to do a citizens’ arrest on Romeo.

Romeo does try to correct this misunderstanding, telling him that he is armed against himself. But as Romeo really isn’t well, and oblivious Paris is oblivious…🤷‍♀️

YMMV, but I feel Paris didn’t have to fight Romeo, especially when the latter was refusing to. He could well have called the guards and/or trapped Romeo in there. Romeo would probably had let him, as he was about to die, anyway, so it made no difference.

So no, I feel this doesn’t make Romeo less sympathetic. Romeo at that point is a dead man walking, and he more than makes up for it by honoring Paris’ last wishes and not being jealous that Paris loved her too. I think most productions just cut his death for time and for ‘eh, unnecessary, loose end, breaks Romeo’s reunion with Juliet’ reasons than ‘oh, no, Romeo is unlikable now and we can’t have that’ reasons.

There are just so many better Shakespeare plays!!! Like…like…you know! Hamlet and Macbeth…which are in the curriculum already and taught widely…shit, um…Twelfth Night and Much Ado…shit, they’re taught too…er…You know what I mean, much better Shakespeare plays!!! *foot stomp*

Romeo Hate Dumb Round Infinity and Beyond

Romeo was a discord mod, Juliet was his kitten—

*Planet of the Apes: The Musical voice*

He loved ev’ry girl he met

From Rosaline to Juliet

Yes, he fell in love with ev’ry bland coquette

Oh, no, wait, you are wrong

It was two all along

And the one he truly loved was

Yes, the one he truly loved was

The one he had truly loved was Juliet!

And now these dumbasses are trying to use this play as a teaching tool against suicide, fuck, okay, PSA, this play is not a good tool for teaching teen suicide REPEAT this play is not good for teaching teen suicide!!!

How dare this main character have main character energy!!! 😡😡😡😡😡 The audacity of this motherfucker!!! (Also re: English teachers: Why must they always have to say their headcanons as if they are canon? The Rosaline fan dumb is so big)

Thanks, OP. Now I can be sure never to go near the thing with a ten-foot pole. How the hell can you make the premise to that freakin’ Rosaline movie better by comparison????

Tag yourself, I’m “perving on her underage cousin”

[chenqingssuibian]

so! mystery lotus casebook, episode four! i have just finished it, and may rewatch it later, but! here are my thoughts for now:

- yu hongzhu is a milf. look at her. really a worthy holder of the title madam yu after queen yu ziyuan. if yall don't start fan casting this woman as your young-yzy and writing angsty fics about her and jiang fengmian i swear to GOD I will do it myself

- they were really gonna flame broil my main man dr li. they really were. but duobing came in clutch with the. were they needles he threw to break the chains? he broke something. anyway

- speaking of li lianhua we have been graced with a new outfit. i am going to thank word of honor specifically for the new-outfits-every-episode for no other reason that i saw wen kexing do it first. and also cheng yi, because GOD does he look pretty in teal

- watching them examine the body and realize there is no Way she was only dead for a day was very funny. especially because li lianhua already suspected it and was so smug about it being confirmed

- that's the thing about li lianhua. he is a smug bitch. i cannot Wait for him to finally be surprised

- the whole murder plot is good. i like this investigation! they're following up leads! they're scrounging around! they're extracting a needle from poor qiushuang's heart!

- speaking of qiushuang's heart. there is no way she did not know her sister thought her best friend was in love with her fiancé. like... i know we never see her on screen but c'mon she can't be stupid

- and that best friend. she played a part in her murder? gut wrenching. even more gut wrenching when we realize that she was only trying to save the man she loves

- shadow puppets play a large part in this episode. I need you to know that. i Love shadow puppets theyre my favorite kind of puppetry so this is Very good for me

- duobing does something smart this episode and sets a trap in best friend's room to catch the killer when he tries to tie up loose ends! good job duobing! have a cookie <3

- and in the end, who did it? who killed poor qiushuang? the brother in law. for money! i had a feeling that shady bitch was part of it but they Did get me with the whole love poem for qiushuang's fiance bit.

- either way - yun jian, girl, bestie. your best friend's brother in law? I know you're catatonic from realizing your lover murdered your best friend but we Need to talk about this

- unfortunately this episode ends before we get the true conclusion - sure, they've revealed the gambling debts brother in law has-apparently the fangs are bankers, because duh-and the affair and the special family technique with shadow puppetry, but. they cut to the ending song </3 which means i wont get to see yu hongzhu's beat down until at Least when I get home around 7:30 pm. ah well

anyway. 9/10 for the episode I just wish we'd gotten the conclusion to the case in it. and that we had a proper goodbye from li'er, who duobing sent back home. but oh well

[sapphire-scribblings]

Lights! Camera! Romance? (1/?)

Lights! Camera! Romance?

Summary: Olivia Mitchell is the poster child of the Hollywood star-making system. She had two Oscars under her belt and never did anything to end up in gossip rags or columns. She assumed her next picture King Creole would be smooth sailing. That is…until she met her costar, the singer Elvis Presley. Far from the hip-thrusting hooligan the papers portray him as, he turns out to be sweet, soulful, and oh so handsome. Will Olivia keep things professional, or will she and Elvis get into a little trouble?

Author’s Note: This is for my new fandom buddy, @succsessions! Hope you like it, pal! Olivia is inspired by Natalie Wood and Carolyn Jones (Elvis’s IRL costar in King Creole). I suppose I could have just written as CJ, but my own granny shares the same name so that would have been just plain weird to write. I’m still working on Vegastown! Chapter one is up now. Updates might be a little more spaced out as I just started online classes for college. So, I’ve got to juggle assignments and writing for pleasure. Thanks for the positive response. Hope you enjoy this one!

October 1957

Olivia Mitchell looked over her script one final time as she was driven through the Paramount front gate. Not because she was nervous about forgetting her lines. She grew up in the Hollywood system. She knew how to prepare for an audition. This wasn’t really that. She was being considered for a role in the new Elvis Presley picture, King Creole. The producers and director already knew she was talented. Her twin Oscar wins for Rebel without a Cause and The Bachelor Party were proof of that. According to her agent, the higher-ups at Paramount wanted to ensure she had chemistry with their star. He was still new to Hollywood. They wanted to surround him with more seasoned actors to give him the greatest opportunity to shine. She and her momma had been both of his previous pictures. They loved seeing a Southern boy thrive. His pictures were fun, and he had a beautiful voice. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to spend the entire time during filming holding his hand.

Once she was dropped off at the suitable building, she went inside to Mr. Curtiz’s office. Her mother was thrilled when she heard her daughter might be working with him. Casablanca was one of her favorite pictures. Olivia reached his office with ten minutes to spare and checked in with his secretary, a lovely, stout woman named Pamela. After a quick call, the director emerged from his office, saying, “Miss Mitchell, so lovely of you to join us. Mr. Presley has been waiting with bated breath.”

He led her into the office. It was packed with people. The film’s producers were sitting on either side of Mr. Curtiz’s desk. They stood, and Olivia shook their hands. She was pleasant and polite. Finally, she was turned to her possible costar, who practically sprang up from his seat. She held her hand out and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Presley. My girlfriends are jealous that I might be working with you. We’re all big fans of your music.”

The singer’s cheeks colored a lovely shade of pink, and he replied, “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Mitchell! Rebel without a Cause is one of my favorite pictures. I hope to be even half as good as you and James Dean.”

Now it was Olivia’s turn to blush. As they finished shaking hands and moved to sit down, she said, “Goodness, you really know how to flatter a girl!”

She turned the chair so that it faced Elvis. Not to disrespect the other men in the room. It was a part of her process. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling when he copied her. Sitting across him was like sitting near a livewire. His knee thumped up and down so much that it shook little strands of hair loose. She reached across and placed her hand on his knee, saying, “Relax, Elvis. I’m the one who should be nervous.”

“You nervous?” Elvis asked incredulously. “That’s crazy. What have you got to be nervous for?”

“Well,” she laughed, “you’re the star of this picture. If we don’t get along, I’m gone. You’re the one everyone is coming to see.”

He nodded but seemed lost in thought. His eyes were quite magnetic. She felt like he was staring right into her soul for a moment. Then he asked, “Where are you from? I coulda swore I heard a twang in your voice just now.”

“You’ve got a good ear!” Olivia said with a laugh. “My accent does tend to emerge when I’m around other Southerners. I’m from Hot Springs, Arkansas.”

Elvis’s face lit up. “We were practically neighbors. When did you move out here to Hollywood?”

“After the war,” she explained. “My momma has a sister that moved out here and offered us a place to stay after my daddy died at Normandy.”

Remembering that she was here for a reason and not for socializing, she bit her lip and said, “I’m so sorry! That was a bit of an overshare.”

“Don’t be,” Elvis said. “I’m sorry about your daddy.”

Olivia thanked him before turning to Mr. Curtiz and asking if they would like to start. She would have loved nothing more than to shoot the breeze with Elvis. But preferably without an audience. They read through the scene where Danny and Ronnie first met with one of the producers providing the additional characters. Then it was the scene with their first big kiss. Olivia let herself get loose and slumped a little bit in her chair. The character was supposed to be drunk, after all. She leaned forward and said, “I’m going in and explaining everything.”

“You’re going home,” was Elvis’s quick reply. “Wherever that is.”

“No!” Olivia said petulantly and reached out to tug at his hand. Elvis was good at portraying annoyance coupled with concern.

“Danny, Mrs. Pearson marked you absent!” the producer chimed in with a terrible falsetto.

“Well,” Olivia said with a smirk, “we’ll show Mrs. Pearson a thing or two!”

“Hey, where’d you pick that up?”

Elvis’s face hardened as he turned to the producer and snapped, “Go on, you ever seen someone who had a few too many!”

Turning back to Olivia, he pulled his hand away and nudged her back into her chair, continuing the line of asking her to tell the driver where to take her. She surged back toward him and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, saying, “I’ll be a good girl if you give me a good morning kiss. I’ll tell the man where I live.”

Her heartbeat sped up as Elvis glanced at the three men watching them intently. It was always awkward kissing in front of a crowd. His first kiss was a peck on the corner of her mouth. The three men did their best heckling with whistles and catcalls. Elvis smirked and cupped the back of her head, tugging her close and giving her a deep kiss. Olivia forgot about their audience for a moment. He was an excellent kisser. Firm but not demanding. His lips were soft. He took her bottom lip between his and gently bit down on it, making her gasp. When she felt a tease of his tongue, she broke the kiss and took a deep breath. The men around them chuckled, and Mr. Curtiz said, “Well, gentlemen, I believe we’ve found our Ronnie!”

Olivia was still trying to collect herself but smiled, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to working with all of you. I promise I won’t let you down.”

She turned back to her new costar. Elvis looked just as flushed and ruffled as she felt. She held her hand out and said softly, “It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Presley.”

“Elvis, please,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. She hoped he couldn’t feel her pulse racing. “After all that, surely we’re on a first-name basis now.”

Olivia nodded, unable to speak. Excusing herself, she exited the office and headed for the elevator. Thankfully it was empty, and she leaned against the wall after pressing the button to the first floor. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Get it together, she chided silently. It was just a kiss, nothing more. This is just another job, and he is just another actor. You’ll see.

[desired-victim]

Helloo! I wanted to request hisoka with corruption kink. Just write however you want to lolol i dont mind any freaky🏃

Ha *wipes sweat off forehead* I hope this hard work pays off. I put every ounce of effort in writing this 😮‍💨. I didn’t do any bullet points on this one but it does have about four thousand words! Please ignore the possible grammar mistakes, I do have trouble writing dialogue. I worked on yours all night long and I’m exhausted. My fingers sure are. I kept your request deeply in mind. You can see poor, little (Y/N)’s innocence melt right off her like ice cream ;). Anyway, here’s your request, my love 💕

I wanted to honor the divine feminine so you will see my appreciation for the female body below 👇

💕TW: The content below contains: degradation, domination kink, submission kink, dub con, threat of forced anal intercourse, pure smut, corruption kink, possible bad grammar, loss of virginity, dirty talk, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, corruption of innocence, Oh, and Hisoka is a TW itself.

Enjoy…

He’s tall.

God, he is so tall. Such long, strong legs - slender yet thick with muscle. Despite being erotically pleasant, his legs weren’t the best part of him. The best part of him was what your eyes followed. From his shins, to his knees, to his thighs, to his hips, to that beautifully sculpted torso of his, to his neck, and then you reached his eyes.

Those eyes. Those sharp, golden eyes of his.

His eyes unsettled most people. It was as though they could pierce your very soul, and see how weak and worthless you truly are. He's a predator - always keen, always aware, and always watching for a reason for you to be his next target.

Hisoka… how did you get those eyes?

She wondered how she caught his attention. He was the type of man to overlook girls like her. A blushing, doe eyed dolt, who could barely speak to strangers without stuttering a storm.

Why? Why would someone like Hisoka find her worthy of even being near him? Of being in his bed, of being by his side, of being between his legs. He is so very special, and I'm…

“My Little Slice, you look delightful when your down there~”

His voice shook her out of her thoughts. She looked at his teasing gaze and meekly lowered her sight to his lips. There, she saw them curl up into a grin. She tensed up and covered her naked chest with her arms. Just then, she realized how unbelievably exposed she was to his scrutiny.

“Oh, nervous now~,” he laughed out, sitting up from the headboard and closer to her face, “isn’t that sweet…”

More red than ever, she turned her face from Hisoka and leaned back. Instead of letting her move away, his hand wrapped around her wrist and thrusted her towards him. She yelped out as her cheek pressed against his hard chest, her face embarrassingly hotter than his cool skin. His chest rumbled as he let out a chuckle.

She put her hands against his chest and attempted to pull away, but his arm wrapped itself around her. She struggled to shove herself away and her efforts were all for nothing; he hadn’t moved an inch.

Perhaps it was foolish to pursue a 200th floor fighter. Where was her older brother to protect her now? He had lectured her beforehand about the dangerous people here and she laughed him off and teased him about being some sort of guard dog. Now, she needed him more than ever. She had never been in a situation like this before.

“No boys allowed, Y/N!” he usually shouted out, a vein practically popping out of his forehead. It almost seemed like he loved saying that as it was repeated over and over throughout her life.

All she wanted to do was explore a place she never ventured to. To seek the thrill that felt so curious and good, yet hidden like the inside of a flower that hasn't bloomed yet. A buzzing heartbeat that formed when she laid alone at night and gently ran her fingers up her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers.

Please help me, B/N…

Her struggles came to an end as she huffed, breathlessly. Hisoka’s hand trailed down her shoulders to her waist and to her hips. His hand was met with the pleasant plumpness of her bottom. She squeaked out in shock as his hand roughly squeezed her ass and kneaded it like dough. A loud crack reverated across the room as he slapped it, leaving a red blur behind. She gasped and her face converted into an embarrassed cringe. Frustrated tears pricked in her eyes as her fingernails dug deeply into his skin.

Once again, she attempted to wiggle away. Instead of his arm wrapping around her shoulders once again, she was swept over and under him. He was hovering over her and there was no way to escape. Her previous attempts at fighting back were a failure, and she no longer wanted to fight, only to flee.

Her eyes shot out towards Hisoka’s face only to find him smiling down at her. His warm breath fanning her face and his hips between her thighs.

The glint in his eyes shook her to the core. His facial expression was teasing and playful, but his eyes told a completely different story. She’s seen that look on his face before. The same expression on his face as he killed his opponents. He looked like an apex predator who was about to break the neck of his prey with his jaws.

“You’ve never been fucked before, haven’t you?” he asked, his finger trailing down her cheek, rubbing off a tear she hadn’t noticed fell.

Her face scrunched up at his vulgar language.

“No, I’ve never been f-“ she paused, hesitating before quickly spitting out, “no, ive never been f… fucked before.” Another tear came out of her eye. She never cursed - She wasn’t allowed to.

Hisoka giggled, his smile twisting even further. He looked down at her precious expression and felt his arousal rise.

“You're utterly adorable, you know that? I almost feel a little bad about this. Almost. But you wanted to play, and don’t be a spoiled brat when the other player is better at the game than you.” He mocked, his sardonic gaze on her. It made her want to shrink into the mattress and never come out.

“Now, now,” he said, sitting up, “I’ll make it as comfortable as I can.”

He spread her thighs and examined her high waisted shorts. He grabbed the zipper at the top and unzipped it. Down and down it went, until her underwear was revealed to him.

“After all, the first cut into the cake has to be perfect.”

Her shorts were suddenly off her and on the ground. She was only in her underwear now, more exposed than ever. Most naked she’d been since that time she went to the beach. She’d gotten sunburnt that day. At least then she had a top, now her whole body was on display to him.

Hisoka hummed as he tugged his own bottoms off, revealing the thick length of his cock. His cock looked magnificent combined with the rest of his body. That sexy v-cut of his looked like two arrows directing me to look at his big dick, so large it almost dangled under its own weight. It held its own though, refusing to droop over.

How is that thing going to fit inside of me? she thought.

He spread her legs wide open and examined the thin material of her underwear as the form of her vulva showed through. The flimsy material was practically invisible.

Hisoka’s big hands grabbed her behind her knees, pushing her legs up while also spreading them even further. The bed squeaked out as Hisoka crawled on his knees over to her, placing himself over her.

Hisoka’s claws clenched themselves around her legs, indenting the soft flesh, “You have such a soft, innocent face,” he said, his face hovering over menacingly. “But I know a hungry little whore lies beneath the surface… let me feed that little whore~❤️.”

Hisoka let go of one of her legs and let it fall against the bed. Her loose leg was between his two thighs and her other leg was still being held. The top half of her body was still on the bed. Hisoka’s strength was maintained as he carried half of her body weight into the air.

He’s so strong… of course he is, that’s to be expected of a top floor fighter.

The bed let out a groan as Hisoka pushed himself onto her covered cunt, rubbing his dick between her labia majora. His cock stroked the sensitive heat over and over again, he could feel her hotness tightening and then softening as her pussy throbbed to the beat of her heartbeat. The head of his cock stroked her hard clit over and over again, the little bump riddled with sensitive nerves. Her underwear was sopping as her pussy leaked out sweet nectar. The tip of Hisoka’s cock was also leaking with precum, mixing in with her own sweetness and creating an erotic cocktail.

“Yes, don’t stop,” she begged. “Please don’t stop - I want to cum so bad. Please let me cum, please!”

Hisoka let out a breathy laugh. “If you want to cum so bad, you need to beg for it. Only good girls get to cum. Are you a good girl~?”

“Yes! I’m a good girl! I’m your good girl, Hisoka!”

“Aw, you're so cute when you beg. But I don’t think you're a good girl. No, I think you're a naughty, little slut. Little sluts only get to cum when they're being fucked.”

The sensitive head of Hisoka’s cock pulsated with pleasure as he rubbed it against the soaked underwear. If he kept doing it, he was going to cum way too fast. He couldn’t let that happen. Not before he stretched her virgin pussy with his cock. He’d be damned if he let himself orgasm before biting into her innocence.

His nails dug into her thigh as he pushed himself further into her, making sure there wasn’t an inch of space between their heats. He was going to blow and If he didn’t stop, he wasn’t gonna see that shocked expression of hers when came in her for the first time. The longer he waited, the better.

(Y/N)’s pussy clenched and her breathing sped up. She was going to cum.

I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to-

Hisoka pulled back.

“No!” She yelled, kicking her leg in frustration. She let out another yell as her leg didn’t even move an inch in Hisoka’s grip. His grip was too strong. There was no way she could force her way to freedom.

“I was so close!” she shouted, a tear threatening to fall from her eyes. “Why did you stop! I felt so good!”

Hisoka threw his head back and let out a loud, sadistic laugh.

“Haha, you're so cute when you're feisty! I’m glad I’m the first who gets to fuck you.”

He let go of her leg after getting over his giggling attack. She found herself embarrassed as she blew out strings of her own hair out of her own mouth.

As she was pulling strings of hair out of her mouth, she was suddenly pulled back onto the bed by Hisoka’s hands around her hips. She gulped as she saw Hisoka’s face hovering over her crotch.

The part of her underwear that directly covered over her cunt was a darker shade than the rest of her underwear from when they grounded against each other like animals in heat.

She watched nervously as he adjusted his position. She let out a whole body shiver as both of his thumbs opened her lips like a little book.

Hisoka licked the side of her cunt - not directly stimulating her but gently teasing her. While not directly pleasuring her, the motion relaxed her from her last intense session. A little between-the-main-courses snack, if you will.

She sat up on her elbows and watched as Hisoka lapped at both sides of her lips. She felt a swell of affection begin to grow in her chest as she watched Hisoka’s cheek press itself onto the inside of her thigh. She realized how bold she’s gotten since they began to play with each other. In such a short while, Hisoka had corrupted her - denting that once-perfect surface with his perverted nature. To think ten minutes ago she was so shy she could barely even curse. In such a short time, she’d cursed more than she had in a year. A pang of guilt filled her as she thought about how her older brother would react. But he wasn’t here, and he never had to know.

In her own thoughts, she didn’t notice Hisoka’s face twist into a mischievous smile. Her eyes widened in terror as she felt his tongue on her covered asshole.

“Hisoka!” She shouted out.

How can someone be so vulgar?

“Oh, I’m sorry, my Little Slice~. I just love it when your sweet, angelic face turns into one of horror. It turn me on so badly~❤️”

Hisoka only smiled and slid his tongue upwards towards her pussy. He pushed the tip of his tongue against the entrance of her vagina and wiggled it there. If it wasn’t for her underwear, his tongue would have been inside her pussy.

The nerves around her hole were ablaze and her legs were shaking - with fear, excitement or pleasure? Perhaps all three, she did not know. All she wanted was to be pounded by him; she didn’t care how big and thick he was (from what she saw earlier, his cock had to be as thick as her forearm). Though she was unexperienced and naive to the acts of sex, this feeling was primal and indispensable. She needed it, she needed it like a runner needs water.

His tongue dragged itself from her entrance to her clit.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned out and spread her legs wider without an ounce of shame.

It was overwhelming in the best way possible. It was the most electrifying thing she’d ever experienced and she never wanted it to end. She wanted to be there forever - in that limbo of titillation and erotic reality that was unlike anything she could recreate with her imagination.

Hisoka rapidly moved his tongue against her clit. She squealed out loud and attempted to move her hips but his hands grabbed her hips and pushed them to the bed and continued to flick her covered clit with his tongue.

She lifted herself up to her elbows and looked down at him. A hint of fear aroused in her as she made direct eye contact with him. She was so caught up in her own pleasure she didn’t realize how deeply she was looking into his eyes.

As she continued to lock her eyes with his, her pussy began to relax, getting ready to tighten and cum on his tongue. Her heavy breathing paused and she caught that expression in her eyes.

Then her panties were ripped in half and her bare cunt was revealed to him. In a split second, his entire tongue was inside of her.

She screamed as her virgin cunny squeezed itself around his long, wicked tongue. Hisoka laughed out and wiggled his tongue - messaging and caressing her inner walls as she cummed.

The wetness of her aroused cunt seeped out and dripped down to her asshole, to which Hisoka slurped up and continued his assault on her cunny again. He did this over and over again until I couldn’t handle it anymore. My hands tried to push him away but he didn’t even budge. It wasn’t until my legs began to kick out in panic did he pull away.

“Ah, ah,” she panted, body completely limp. Hisoka observed her body. Her soft stomach was gleaming with sweat and the inside of her thighs were also gleaming.

“You might be the sweetest candy I’ve had since I first tried Bungee Gum all those years ago. I knew the moment I popped it into my mouth it would never leave me, marking me with its sweet syrupy taste just like a Scarlet Letter. Would it be a bold thing to say that you're just like Bungee Gum? You get so pink when you're played with. The pink on your cheeks is almost the same shade as my favorite snack.”

Hisoka let out a sudden dramatic sigh that startled (Y/N) for a second. “Unfortunately, the company who used to make Bungee Gum went bankrupt so now I have to search far and wide just to get a taste. Luckily for me, something similar is always nearby for me to stretch and pull at.”

He paused, looking directly into (Y/N)’s eyes with his own yellow ones. “You are, my sweet little slice~”

Hisoka grabbed her ankles and slapped her legs together. The loud smack of her thighs' sudden connection reverated across the room.

Hisoka wrapped his big hand over both of her ankles and grabbed his cock, stroking back the foreskin to reveal the pink, sensitive tip and a pearl of precum forming. He placed the tip of his cock on her clit, rubbing it in little circles before sliding it down her slit until it reached her entrance at the very bottom. He felt tempted to slip it into her ass before deciding it wasn’t worth the screeching. Even though he could easily cover her mouth and sodomize her tight little ass, he couldn’t just jump into completely breaking her; It would be a better idea to slowly lower her into the fire. A slow burn would be ten times more satisfying.

Putting both of my legs onto one side of his shoulders, he used his weight to push his entire cock into her pussy until his ballsack was resting against her ass.

She hissed through her teeth and threw her head back. She was filled with his cock. So full. So, so full.

She was bursting with new sensations. A new type of pain, a new type of pleasure. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt yet so primal and familiar. It was an instinct she never realized she had.

Bending over her with her legs still on her shoulder, Hisoka connected their lips for the first time that night. She could taste her own saltiness on his lips. It wasn’t the type of kiss she’d seen on romance shows (the ones her brother decided were appropriate enough to watch). No, this kiss was the complete opposite of those. This kiss was rough, unlike anything else.

She felt a burst of bravery as she slipped her tongue out and shyly lapped at his bottom lip. Hisoka let out a sardonic chuckle.

“Feeling brave now, are we?”

(Y/N) yelped as Hisoka slid his entire tongue inside her mouth, licking every corner of her mouth. Nothing was left untouched.

After completely violating her mouth with his tongue, Hisoka pulled away, smiling down at her.

“Are you ready?” He whispered. (Y/N) let out a shuddering breath and nodded. She braced herself by meekly grabbing onto the shoulder that didn’t have her legs with one hand, the other gripping onto the sheets.

Hisoka pulled back until only the tip of his cock remained in her, then he slammed into her with great strength. Her breath completely left her body with the slam of his hips. His hips smashing against her buttocks made a filthy sound that made her want to cum. The plop, plop sound that her pussy was also doing things to her.

Hisoka grunted with every hard thrust. She fit him just like a glove. It was almost like she was made for him. While the male penis did not have as many nerve endings as female genitals, a man can augment his sensations and cause it to heighten by being caressed just right. By holding her against himself, fucking her in a salacious dance, the more sensation builds up in his penis just like when a woman’s clitoris is tapped just so…

The friction of his cock pulling on her inner walls before being pushed inside once again left (Y/N) in a concoction of emotions. First, complete and utter pleasure. As he slammed his cock into her, dopamine bursted in her mind like an explosion of drugs. Second, regret. If her brother ever found out, how would he react to his own little sister getting fucked by the murderous Magician, Hisoka? She knew he’d feel like all his work to keep her safe were a waste of time and energy. Like all those years of pampering and protecting went right down the drain. She couldn’t let him find out. And thirdly, a rebellious energy. She was tired of being locked down by her own innocence. She wanted to explore the world. There had to be more to this world than just what she knew. There had to be.

From head to toe, she felt a symphony of pleasure as she came. Her toes clenched until they cramped. But she didn’t care, the pleasure outweighed the pain. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. She was sure there would be a five fingered mark there the next day. It would be a reminder of his clawed reach and her deflowering.

She screeched out as Hisoka went faster, overwhelming her. She hadn’t even gotten over her orgasm before he began to thrust into her twice as hard. She could feel his cock rub itself against the entrance of her womb.

It was primal to push into her beautiful, soft female body and pull back, only to push himself back. He could feel himself building up the height of his pleasure. The more he pumped, the higher the tower built, just ready to topple over and leave a big mess.

He looked at her closer than ever. Watching as her breast bounced and her lips glowed from their mixed saliva. He saw her eyes as she looked up at him, red from crying in complete pleasure. Her appearance increased his desire to come.

“Ahhhh,” he moaned out, feeling his orgasm in his very bones. It was a sensation he was familiar with. After defeating a powerful enemy, he sometimes glowed with the aftertaste of their fight and his victory. This was very similar - yet so different. More intimate, of course. His prey was still alive and he was still inside their body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes in bliss as Hisoka’s cum finally rested inside of her. Her breathing slowed down and the blush on her cheeks faded into softer shades of pink. The sun was coming down. Its orange tones highlighted her sweaty body like a canvas. It almost seemed like she was a freshly painted portrait. Divine Feminine tamed at last.

Both of them laid on their backs, observing the plain ceiling. It was relaxing to lay down after such an exhausting task. All she wanted to do was shut her eyes and rest.

Rest, rest, rest…

My brother! His fight is over!

(Y/N) shot up from the bed, practically tripping over herself as she gathered her things - putting them on. She didn’t even notice her bra was inside-out. More shockingly, she didn’t even notice cum was dripping down her legs.

Hisoka watched amusingly from the sidelines at her scattering around the room.

(Y/N) scanned the room for one final time. She groaned as she saw her wet panties on the bed, right next to Hisoka. She jumped onto the bed and reached for her underwear. As she pulled back, Hisoka grabbed her wrist.

“Tell me, (Y/N), how would your older brother react to hearing about how I ruined his little sister's innocence? How I fucked her and she enjoyed every second of it? I bet he’d try to kill me~.”

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed, not a single word leaving her starstruck mouth. Her body was paralyzed with fear. She forgot who she was dealing with in her panic.

“What's the matter? You want to keep our little secret just between us two? Fine. However, come to my room tomorrow at the same time you did today and we’ll have some more fun. If not…”

She didn’t need to ask - She knew. She imagined the consequences in her mind, thinking about the outcome of her moment of weakness.

Hisoka wasn’t done with her; this was just the appetizer.

—-

“Hey, (Y/N), where were you during my fight? I didn’t see you in the crowd at all.”

“Oh, I was just getting some snacks.”

“Ah, alright. Next time just tell me beforehand. I wouldn’t want a stranger taking advantage of my little sister. Right, sis?”

“Haha, yeah…”

[monodipita]

PET (Yandere!Douma x Reader)

Hello again! I am once again quietly pushing my commissions out and encouraging people to check them out to help me out with vet bills. Please take a look if you can, it’s greatly appreciated!! 🙇🏽‍♀️

Word count: 2,083 Warnings: Yandere content, gore, death (not of reader!), master x pet dynamic (loose) His hands touched your face so lovingly.  Each gentle caress came with a new wave of love that washed over you and pushed you deeper into the delirium.  His sharp nails dug themselves into your cheek, but it was merely by accident. Every time it happened, it was.  His rainbow eyes stared into your own as a smile creeped onto his lips.  "How beautiful you are, [Y/N].  My pet."

Your eyes closed and you absorbed his words.  Compliments from him never became tiring, that was Douma's charm.  How could you have been so afraid before? "You have done so much for me, Douma," your words poured effortlessly from your lips. "Oh?"  Douma pressed a bit harder into your cheek before releasing you from his grip.  He pulled away and allowed you to rest in his butterfly-folded lap without pestering you for much longer. "Tell me of what I have done for you, dear pet." "You've provided for me in ways I have never seen anyone provide for me before, not even my own family," you told him.  You took his hands that rested idly off of his knees and squeezed them tightly while you gazed into his eyes. "You've saved me from a life of running away from demons.  I will forever and always be grateful to you, Douma." His smile remained plastered on his lips as he ate up your words.  "You are so utterly divine, [Y/N]."  He purred and leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.  His hands moved from yours and wrapped themselves around your body, pressing against your back and threading themselves together at the base of it. "The only one I need in my life..." his eyes hooded. "No one else will ever compare to you, my love."  His words were so gushy.  You can tell by the way he looked at you that he truly meant every word that came out of his mouth.  "Do you love me. [Y/N]?" "I love you, Douma." "Kiss me." You obliged.  Your lips pressed with his, and you instantly melted into his tightening embrace.  The tighter it became, the more passionate his kiss became, until you could taste iron in your mouth.  You were only given the right to breathe once he felt like it was right to give way.  Lightheaded, you pulled away from him.  "Was that good?"  You ask meekly.  "Only the best, as always."  Douma responded, his blood-tinted lips showing themselves off.  "Now... I believe lunch time is soon." Sometimes it was easy to forget that this was a community home, ran by none other than Douma himself.  The people that lived and worked here were all indebted to him in some way, and you were included in that mix.  He took you away from your family and gave you a better life.  You were his consort, his significant other.  Wasn't that such an honor?  So many people were envious of you and what you had.  Expensive clothing, people to cater to your every whim and need.  It was the life of royalty, all given to you by Douma.  "Right," you beamed to him with a shy smile before you stood. "I'll make my way to the dining room, then.  Will you be joining us this time?" "I have important matters to attend to, dearest pet."  He tilted his head and frowned when he noticed your disappointed look. "Must you always seem so saddened by my answers?" "...it's just... I'd like you to join me, this time."  You pouted, slightly. What a spoiled brat. "Please?" "..." Douma flicked his fan open, revealing the pristine, sharp, golden blades within it.  He hummed aloud for just a moment before standing and making his way close to you.  He stopped before you and folded his fan closed, before pressing the golden fan into his cheek dimple. "I'll think about it."  He stated. "Is that enough of a sufficient answer for you?" Well enough.  The answer didn't vibe well with you, but persisting only put Douma in a strange mood. You nodded your head instead, and the two of you shared another kiss before departing.  You stepped out of the room and gently closed the shoji behind you, letting out a soft, dreamy sigh.  Yes, dinner was indeed soon, you could smell it in the air.  Your stomach growled, making your cheeks flush with embarrassment.  At least he wasn't going to hear that. "Are you [Y/N]?" "This must be Lord Douma's room." You turned your attention to whoever spoke, your eyes spotting two timid individuals.  You quirked your brow in bewilderment. "What is it?"  You asked. Neither of them responded with coherent answers.  Instead they rambled, which made your eyes narrow with suspicion.  Even moreso when Douma opened the shoji up to greet the two young

women.  "Oh, my love, you're still here."  Douma seemed surprised by that fact.  "These are our newest guests, Aoi and Chieko." "N-nice to meet you," the one identified as Aoi bowed, and the other identified as Chieko followed suit.  You said nothing and looked down on them with jealousy, before swiftly turning on your heel and disappearing around the corner.  You were undeniably jealous of whatever they were doing.  You liked to be the center of his attention.  Like many who worshiped him, any attention at all was enough to make your heart pound until it was all you could hear. You needed to know what they were doing.  You needed the confirmation that he wasn't doing anything with them... you wanted the comfort in feeling safe. You stopped at the corner, just when you were out of sight.  You waited for some time to pass before you would try to figure out what was happening.  You could hear people beginning to migrate toward the dining hall for dinner, and you needed to go too, but you held off.  It was more important to you to find out what he was doing with those girls. After waiting long enough and hearing the halls go silent, you decided to make your move.  You quietly headed toward his room and stopped outside of it to listen in on their conversation, if there was any.  At first it was eerily quiet, but there was noise soon following your arrival.  They seemed to be conversing about something. "I would appreciate this chance, lord Douma," Aoi's voice sounded... at least you thought that was her name, you couldn't quite remember.  "Please use me as your heart...desires..." Silence.  You felt your stomach tighten with nausea.  What did she mean by that? Was he... performing sexual favors on her!?  You felt hurt! You ripped your head away from the door and squirmed in place.  You wanted to leave, but you wanted to know what was going to happen.  You let out an inaudible sigh and pressed your ear to the shoji again to listen to what was going on.  You ripped your ear away as a loud scream sounded from the room, followed by Douma's charming laughter.  It became rapidly unsettling, making you swallow thickly with worry as your nose began to flood with the same, familiar smell of iron.  What was happening?  Did you want to know? No... you needed to know.  What was he doing? You slowly pushed the shoji open, slowly enough to not be heard under the loud screams of the girl.  You slowly edged into the room to see the horrible sight that you dreaded.  Now that the sound wasn’t muffled by the walls, you could hear the disturbing sound of something ripping.  Not clothes, not hair, but something else... The smell of iron became too much to bear, it was nauseating, even.  You tried your best to beat the smell, just so you could get a good glimpse at what was happening.  You... weren’t quite sure why you were pursuing the truth, but something just told you that what was happening wasn’t real.  Could it have been true? “Silly, silly humans.”  Douma chuckled to himself while his fingers plunged into Aoi’s eye socket to retrieve her eye.  Her screams were deafeningly loud, much to his glee, and your dismay.  “You almost ruined my day... oh, how I would’ve lost it if you interfered with my pet’s happiness.  [Y/N]’s happiness is important to me!  But I digress, you’ve fulfilled your purpose.  You’re making me a happy, happy boy with your pathetic carcasses!” He purred. ”D-douma—!”  You blurted in the form of a scream.  You didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it did. Blood caked his clothing, his face, his fingernails.  The more disturbing sight lies within the scene on the ground... the girl’s bodies.  The Chieko girl was dead.  Blood surrounded her body in a large pool, kept intact, except for the decapitated head sat on her back and was positioned to stare at him while he tortured Aoi.  Aoi’s eyes were removed, and her body weakly fought against his while she screamed bloody murder, but it didn’t matter. His thumbs were pressed so disturbingly into her empty eye sockets... “...[Y/N]!  My dear pet. You weren’t

supposed to see this...” he tilted his head, a frown appearing across his lips. ”HELP ME!  HELP ME, PLEASE!”  Her wails were deafening, even when you were so far away. ”Oh, that is so annoying now,” Douma’s frown soured.  He looked down at Aoi and shook his head at her.  “Pathetic girl, don’t you see that you’re in the presence of my love?  Be respectful.” His blue-painted fingers forced themselves into Aoi’s throat, causing blood to splatter on his face while he jerked his hand out of her throat in one quick motion.  He undoubtedly just killed someone in front of you.  “Oh!  She’s dead.  I tend to forget how fragile they can be!  I lose myself when I play with their intestines... that’s usually how they stay alive the longest.  Oops!  I forget to control my tendencies...”  Douma pouted.  “Forgive me, my love.  You were never supposed to see me like... this.”  He started to walk toward you. You lost it.  You doubled over and lost the contents of your stomach on the floor.  You placed your hand against the wall for support to keep yourself steady, to prepare yourself to get out of here.  You couldn’t even gather your bearings when Douma’s arms pulled you into a constricting embrace.  He squeezed you taut against his body. ”You... you’ve been lying to us all,” you croaked through your sobs. ”I’ve only been lying partially to you, my pet.  To everyone else, yes.”  Douma tilted your head up and forced you to look at him with a firm grip on your chin.  You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. ”Look at me with your eyes, [Y/N].” Douma purred sweetly. "Don't make me hurt you." You reluctantly looked up at him.  He noticed just how upset you appeared to be and frowned.  “Oh, my love!  Don’t be upset for what’s happened to those girls. That will never happen to you.”  He cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer to him, only causing you to sob more as the stench of iron and flesh wafted off of him in droves.  “They’re in a better place now, don’t you think?” ”Why... why don’t you do that to me?  Right now?”  You asked weakly. “I can’t do this... I can’t do this...” ”Because you’re my pet, of course.  Even if I want to eat you, I could never bring myself to.” He reached up to kiss your forehead.  “Killing you would be like losing part of myself. I love toying with you, I love your cute little reactions...” he trailed off, before hooding his eyes. “Killing these humans mean nothing to me.  But for a pet like you... you mean everything to me.” ”M-my parents,” you sputtered, “w-what did you do to them?” ”They didn’t care about you.”  Douma said soberly.  “That’s why you’re here, with me.  They dumped you here.  They gave you to me.  We were destined to be together as a man and his adoring pet, isn’t that so romantic?”  He smiled at you. You felt yourself beginning to sob harder.  You squirmed and thrashed in his arms, but it didn’t matter.  He was so much stronger than you.  “My poor baby,” Douma frowned and pulled you closer into his arms, reaching up and stroking your hair as if it could calm you down.  “Don’t worry, my dear pet.  You’ll always be kept alive...”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt for "Close" or "Reforged": NMJ & Baxia goes to the Nie tombs to accompany someone. The spirits sensed a saberspeak translator FINALLY exists and traps them. Everyone thought the place hostile, but the sabers just want NMJ listen to their ramblings/demands/complaints/lectures... and also to do something about that "basketcase" saber spirit sealed further in. They're sick of listening to it! Do something, Nie descendant!

ao3

“Tell me something about yourself,” Lan Xichen said one day when he was a teenager, lying on his back in a field in the Cloud Recesses with his best friend in the whole world, excluding family. “Something secret.”

Nie Mingjue, lying beside him, hummed for a moment, thinking about it. “When I was a kid – about Wangji’s age now – I got stabbed in the stomach during a fight,” he said eventually. “Everyone thought I was going to die, and I mean they really thought it, but then I didn’t.”

“Wow,” Lan Xichen said, having meant something more along the lines of ‘a girl let me touch her chest behind the garden shed once’. “Everyone must have been very glad you were all right.”

“Mostly,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice and gaze distant. “Once they let me out.”

“Of your sickbed?”

Nie Mingjue blinked and shook his head as if to wake up. “Enough about me,” he said. “What about you? What’s your secret? Is it about that He sect girl and the shed again?”

“It was not,” Lan Xichen insisted, even though it totally had been. He was very proud of it. “I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular!”

-

When Nie Mingjue told Lan Xichen about his family’s curse, he didn’t actually tell him directly.

He brought him to a room, with tea and food set out, had him sit, and then vanished, sending Nie Zonghui to tell him instead. It was horrifying, of course, but in the same manner as the whole war they’d just endured had been horrifying – nothing that would make Nie Mingjue blush.

“Why didn’t he just tell me himself?” Lan Xichen asked, mostly because he couldn’t really be upset at Nie Mingjue for being in the process of slowly dying, even if that’s what he really wanted. “Did he think I wouldn’t be able to stand it or something?”

“Or something,” Nie Zonghui said. “It’s not about you, Zewu-jun. It’s about him.”

Lan Xichen frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a sensitive subject for him,” Nie Zonghui said. “Especially the saber tombs – and after what happened when he was younger, I can’t really blame him.”

“When he was younger? What happened?”

“Did he never say? He said that he’d already told you: when he was young – eight or nine, I think – he was in a fight, and got stabbed…”

“Oh, yes, that,” Lan Xichen said. “I know about that…what does that have to do with cultivation?”

“It was his first fight carrying Baxia,” Nie Zonghui explained. “She wasn’t even fully forged, but he grabbed her out of the smithy and wielded her against those invaders.”

Nie Mingjue had not said anything about invaders.

“He saved the lives of several other children,” Nie Zonghui continued, and Nie Mingjue hadn’t said anything about that, either. “Shed his first blood on his blade – even took his first life, all the things that function as a marker of adulthood. Defeat evil, rescue the innocent, all that. So when they thought he was going to die, they decided to give him the honors of an adult.”

For some reason, that made something sink in Lan Xichen’s stomach.

“When you say honors…” he started.

“He was taken to the saber tombs,” Nie Zonghui said. “To die as his honored ancestors had.”

They must have been very sure that he would not live.

“But he didn’t die,” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Zonghui hesitated. “What are you not telling me?”

“Sect Leader Nie was left there to die alone, as is customary,” Nie Zonghui said. “When they returned after three days to collect his body for cremation, they found him still breathing, much to everyone’s surprise…after, there were rumors that he had died.”

“What? How? He’s walking around even now.”

“They thought he had been possessed,” Nie Zonghui explained. “By one of the saber spirits. It caused some trouble, later. Anyway, ever since then, he doesn’t talk about it directly – and nor should you.”

“But –”

“I think that’s enough of an explanation for now,” Nie Zonghui said firmly, and no matter how Lan Xichen entreated him, he said no more.

-

“Oh, sure, we have plenty of stories about saber spirit possession,” Nie Huaisang said when Lan Xichen asked in a roundabout fashion. “All sorts! I grew up on them, naturally. Temporary, permanent, through birth or misadventure – that one story about the generation of Nie women where everyone was female, whether born or misaligned –”

That did sound somewhat interesting, actually, but not exactly what Lan Xichen was looking for at the moment.

“What happens in cases of possession?” he asked, pretending to be casual. “You know, if someone thinks someone else is possessed – speaking generally, of course?”

“Generally?” Nie Huaisang frowned and tapped his fan against his lips. “I mean, in the case of temporary possession, you usually try to exorcise the spirit – usually through traditional means, like arrays or talismans or incantations, but sometimes if you think they’re trying to steal a human life permanently, through discomfort.”

“Discomfort?”

“Oh, you know. Excess exercise, denying food, hurting them. Show them that they’d rather not be human after all, that sort of thing.”

“…what if they’re wrong about the possession?” Lan Xichen asked, a cold chill going down his spine.

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “It’s supposed to be pretty obvious? Someone who has the strength of a guai instead of a human, who refuses to die when a normal person would, someone rigid and unyielding with barely any flexibility – more metal than human – unusually angry, full of bloodlust and an unquenchable desire to destroy evil –”

“That could describe your whole family tree, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said. That could describe your brother.

“Sabers reflect their masters,” Nie Huaisang said cheerfully. “So it makes sense that it would, doesn’t it?”

“But –”

“Oh, don’t fuss, er-ge! I’m sure the elders wouldn’t just go around assuming someone’s secretly a saber for no reason,” Nie Huaisang said. “Now, let me tell you about the generation of women story – it’s one of my favorites –”

-

“Da-ge refused to let me play for him again,” Jin Guangyao commented, and Lan Xichen frowned.

He wasn’t an idiot – he knew how bad the relationship between his two sworn brothers was – but although he’d hoped that this would help repair some aspects of that, his primary goal with the Song of Clarity was to improve Nie Mingjue’s health.

(Sabers could suffer from qi deviations, too. Not that Nie Mingjue was possessed by a saber or anything.)

“Did he say why?” Lan Xichen asked.

“He was busy this week,” Jin Guangyao said mournfully. “Visiting his family tombs, apparently.”

Lan Xichen blinked. “The – Nie family tombs?”

Jin Guangyao had been speaking casually, clearly thinking of it as some excuse meant to fob him off, but perhaps there was something about Lan Xichen’s face that caught his interest. “Yes, he said there was some issue there that he had to deal with personally. Is there something the matter with that?”

“No,” Lan Xichen said, and then frowned. “At least, I don’t think so? I’ll speak with him about not skipping more sessions, A-Yao; don’t worry.”

He excused himself shortly thereafter and went to Qinghe on the first possible excuse.

“Where’s your sect leader?” he asked one of the guards.

Their frozen expression said everything he needed to know.

-

“Xichen?” Nie Mingjue said, blinking at him. “Is that you?”

“No, it’s Wangji,” Lan Xichen said. “Of course it’s me!”

“I meant that more in the ‘what are you doing in my family tombs’ sense,” Nie Mingjue said.

Lan Xichen allowed that that was a fair question. A better one, however…

“What are you doing in your family’s tombs?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “If the Song of Clarity isn’t working, we can try something else!”

“Xichen –”

“It is far, far too early for you to even think of coming down here –”

“Xichen –”

“And may I say, that’s a barbaric tradition anyway, I don’t care if your ancestors did it, locking up a child is just –”

“Xichen.”

Lan Xichen stopped.

Nie Mingjue was rubbing the back of his head, and his cheeks were red. “I heard a rumor that one of the old masterless sabers got loose,” he said. “I was just checking it out. I wasn’t coming here to – to reside.”

“…oh,” Lan Xichen said, and felt rather stupid. And then, trying to change the subject, he said, “How’d you hear about the saber getting loose? I thought no one came here unless there was a death.”

“Oh, the sabers told me,” Nie Mingjue said.

“Oh, I guess…wait. What?”

-

“So you…hear them,” Lan Xichen said. They were seated on the foot of one of the statues guarding the tombs, which was a bit rude but Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to mind and they were, after all, his ancestors. “The saber spirits.”

“Since I was child, yes,” Nie Mingjue confirmed.

“And you don’t think this is – odd?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “They gave me spiritual energy so that I could survive. It left a mark, I think.”

Lan Xichen nodded.

He tried to figure out how to phrase his next question.

“I’m fairly certain I am not a saber spirit possessing a human corpse.”

“Oh, good,” Lan Xichen sighed. “I had no idea how to ask.”

Nie Mingjue knocked their shoulders together. “You can always just ask. I’m your friend. Corpse or not.”

“Please don’t make jokes about that,” Lan Xichen said mournfully, even if it was a little funny. “I’d miss you if you were a corpse.”

“Well, depending on the state of the corpse…”

Lan Xichen snickered, even though he really didn’t mean to. It wasn’t actually funny.

-

“So is it just sabers?”

“Not always. Why? You want to know what Shuoyue thinks of you?”

Lan Xichen stared at him. “Can you?”

“Either directly or indirectly,” Nie Mingjue said. “Even if the weapon doesn’t want to talk to me directly, they usually don’t have a choice when Baxia is pushing them.”

“…do swords have a lot to say?”

“Not as much as saber spirits. But more than you might think.”

“What does she think of me, then?”

“She likes you. You’re good to her. Except when you wield her overhead because you keep tensing a muscle in your back that makes the strike a little wonky, so she’d prefer you stick with forward thrusts or low cuts until you get that fixed.”

Lan Xichen started laughing.

-

“If I die outside, make sure I’m brought here,” Nie Mingjue said. “I think I’d enjoy the company.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Lan Xichen promised, and he meant it, too. “I promise.”

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

STORY PAGE | PLAYLIST | INSPO

PROLOGUE WORD COUNT: 7,764

The early afternoon heat of LA was radiating off the pavement as Harry made his way up the Azoff-Christiaansen driveway after his five-mile run. He could feel his grey tank top stick to his back and couldn’t wait to take a cool shower to rid himself of the grime and LA smog that had accumulated on his tanning skin.

Since the tour had ended, Harry had been staying as a house guest. He had made it a point to do some small chores around the house as a way to show his appreciation. On his way in the house, he had checked the mail and picked up the newspaper that was laid on the doorstep before he had keyed his way into the home. He was greeted by an overly-excited Myles, who happily wagged his tail, seeing his best friend had returned home. Harry made sure to give the pup some much deserved scratches behind the ears, before walking him to the back of the house to let Myles out to do his business.

Harry returned to the counter leading to the kitchen, where he had dropped off the mail after grabbing a glass of water. He flicked through the pile, knowing that there might not be anything for him, but organized and separated it for the homeowners when they returned from work. Towards the end of the pile, he came upon a ruby red envelope that had, not only Jeff and Glenn’s name, but also Harry’s. He had read over the font and looked to the return address, a smile began to spread on his lips.

Since it was also addressed to him, Harry decided to open it. Upon turning the envelope over to pop open the lip, Harry saw the gold wax was sealed with an embossed “D”. He ran his forefinger along the seam to expose the milky white cardstock, edged with gold flake. He had pulled out the invitation to the 40th Wedding Anniversary for Don and Elenore D’Angelo.

Harry met Don at Shangri-La Studios when he was just starting his solo career. Don just so happened to own the studio.

Don was always so warm and welcoming, as was his studio. It seemed fitting that the studio fell into the hands of Don, always in the world of music since he was a child. His father was in an Italian folk band when he was growing up in Italy; He was certain that the music world was where he needed to be. He had always known that he had wanted to be a music producer, to help musicians make music the way they want, to sound the way they desired. He had decided to move to one of the only places that made sense to make music; Los Angeles. Music in the ’70s was booming in LA and after learning the trade, Don was lucky enough to get a job at Shangri-La, which is where he had met the love of his life.

One day, when Don was working, he met Elenore, his Ellie, who had been interviewing The Band at Shangri-La. She was one of the first women to be working for Rolling Stone as a writer. She was a 70’s work of art with her Farrah Fawcett hair, high waist wide legged trousers, and a cropped tank top. She was a firecracker. She gave Don a run for his money when he had tried to get a date with her but when she finally agreed, he had always joked that “she couldn’t say no to the Italian charm”.

Harry had always loved hearing their love story whenever he was lucky enough to see them both at the studio. He has always been a hopeless romantic, so it was an honor to be invited to a monumental anniversary. Harry had walked over to the fridge and grabbed the puppy faced magnet to post the invitation on the door to remind him and his roommates of the date of the party.

September 29, 2018

Jeff had called up to Harry as he was spritzing on his Tom Ford, gently placing it on the dresser before walking to the bed to pick up his suit jacket. He pulled the simple black blazer over his shoulders, flattening out the black velvet lapels while taking a final look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair,  breaking up the curls he had just put product into. He had lightly jogged down the stairs, meeting Jeff and Glenn in the front hall before they collectively went to the car to make their way to the anniversary party.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. The venue was already full of people, some of which Harry had known, including the rest of the Azoff family. Harry had come to learn through Jeff that the Azoff’s and D’Angelo’s had “practically grown up together”. Irving Azoff had met Don at a party when they were both starting their careers and the rest was history.

Irving was quick to call his son and company over to him where he was sharing a drink with the man of the hour. Don was quick to give firm hugs all around, beaming and resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Long time since I have seen you! You look good!” Harry blushed at Don’s compliment, agreeing that it had been too long since they have been together. Don was just about to say how excited Ellie was going to be to see him but she was already making her way over to the group before Don even had the opportunity to warn Harry of her eagerness.

Harry had turned to his left, away from Don, when he felt a hand rest in the middle of his spine. A wide smile grew on his face as he saw Ellie start to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck, squeezing tightly and kissing his cheek thrice. She pulled away, holding his cheeks in her hands, her glowing smile lighting up the room.

“I’m so glad you could make it! It has been too long!” Harry’s hands remained on Ellie’s waist as he nodded his agreement, commenting on how he and Don had just said the same thing. “You should come over for dinner on Sunday, join the family! We would love to have you there.”

She had continued to hold his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs on his blushing cheekbones as a shy grin formed on his lips. With a quiet, “alright, I’ll be there,” he agreed to dinner. Don was chuckling as he watched his wife swoon over the boy. He mumbled her name to grab her attention and it took her a moment, but she finally looked to Don and saw one of their sons approaching. She gasped and grabbed Harry’s hand pulling her over to her eldest.

“Harry, have you met our son, Justin?” Harry had reached his hand out to shake hands with the man, who looked like a younger version of his father.

“We may have met once, I believe, at the studio?” Justin had nodded in agreement.

“Nice to see you again man,” He greeted. A woman had walked over to their group and wrapped an arm around Justin’s lower back, catching his attention. “Have you met my wife, Christine?”

Christine had smiled at Harry and shook his hand, telling him that she was a fan of his first album and how she went to both of the LA shows. At this rate, Harry felt like there was a good chance he would be blushing all night. Christine’s attention was quickly pulled away, to what Harry was told was their two children, Dylan and Matthew.  Two other men were quick to walk over to the group, both kissing Ellie on the cheek and hugging Justin.

“This is our other son, Micheal, and his husband, Dean.” Both shook hands with Harry as they greeted themselves. Micheal was quick to pull Justin away with him, leaving Dean with Ellie and Harry. Ellie was looking around the room, clearly searching for someone. Harry took the opportunity to take a look around the room as well.

He watched Don walk over to them, kissing the top of Ellie’s head. “Have you seen our baby, Don? I want to introduce-”

She was cut off when the music had stopped and there was a clearing of a throat in a microphone. Everyone had turned to the stage and whoever was front and center was a vision.

She was dressed in a soft yellow sundress with light brown leather wedge heels. Her smile matched Ellie’s, who happened to be beaming back at the girl on stage.

“Hello everyone. Um, I just wanted to thank you for coming out to celebrate our parent’s love.” Oh. Harry didn’t know that the D’Angelo’s had a daughter.

“Us D’Angelo kids wanted to perform a little something for you, Mom and Dad. Seemed fitting since we are the damn Partridge Family.” The crowd had laughed as she had scoffed a laugh into the microphone. “So, Mom and Dad, if you would kindly make your way to the center of the floor…”

Don had grabbed Ellie’s hand, kissing it softly as they walked to the middle of the room. Their daughter turned to grab an acoustic guitar and nodded at Michael who was sitting behind a piano, and Justin behind the drumset. She made her way back to the microphone and the first chords to a song Harry knew very well, began to fill the room.

“Looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come, my baby. We might’ve took the long way, we knew we’d get there someday.”

Don and Ellie began to sway to the song, held close to each other, and exchanged smiles and kisses as they listened to their children perform. All eyes were on the couple but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She performed effortlessly, hitting every note perfectly with her warm and angelic voice. He watched her delicate fingers switch chords and strum soothingly. She was smiling down at the couple in the center of the floor as she finished the song. Without waiting for the applause, she was quick to put down the guitar to climb off the stage to hug her parents. Harry watched the interaction as well as watched as she made her way to the bar.

Harry’s feet had a mind of their own as he found himself at the bar next to the D'Angelo's daughter. She was leaning over, talking to the bartender while tapping the toe of her shoe into the floor to the beat of the music. She had turned to look and the man standing next to her, which so happened to be Harry.

“Well, hi! My mom was waiting for this moment all day.” She was breathtaking; her smile was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. He could get lost looking into her warm eyes. They were surrounded by long, dark lashes and her long dark hair was in loose curls cascading down her back. He had to fight the urge to wrap one of the silky curls around his finger.

She continued to look at him, raising her brows as her smile grew. “I’m Bianca, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

He cleared his throat and reached his hand out for her to shake, “Nice to meet you too”. He felt her soft hand, also littered with rings of gold, just petite for her smaller hands. He turned her hand to look at the jewels, which had caused her to laugh.

“I was just about to look at yours too.” He smiled as he continued to hold her hand in his, his pointer finger of his free hand running over the jewels. He had pointed out one that he liked in particular, it sticking out more than the other simple ones.

“It was my mom’s. It was the first piece of jewelry my dad got her. I’ve been obsessed with it since I was little, always stole it, so she just gave it to me one day.” Harry smiled, knowing the feeling of stealing loved ones’ things and wanting to claim them as his own. She had also looked at his, both complementing the metals and jewels.

Her drink came to the bar and Harry had ordered a drink for himself, both sitting on stools to enjoy their drinks with each other.  After ordering his drink and she began to sip on her limoncello, he knew he had to know more about her.

“You are a great performer. All of you are. I guess you weren’t wrong about the ‘Partridge Family’ comment.”

She had smiled as she was finishing her sip, “It’s not hard to be a musical family when you're surrounded by music.” Harry nodded in agreement. She was focused on her drink, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Ever since I was little, there was always music. Dad owns a studio, mom used to write for a music magazine, and now books about musicians. Justin is a manager for bands like fucking Metallica. Michael is a composer for movie soundtracks and used to work in orchestras for Broadway, that’s how he met Dean.” She finally looked at Harry again, tilting her head like a cute puppy, “He’s a dancer.” She smiled and suggestively raised her eyebrows, making the both of them laugh.

“And you?”

She hummed, “What about me?”

“What do you do?”

“Well, my brothers had nicknamed me Jack.” Harry had looked at her curiously, the nickname nothing like her own. She giggled at his furrowed brow and confusion written all over his face.

“Jack of all trades, master of none. I have done a little bit of everything, but as of late, I have been lucky enough to be a freelance creative director.”

“Freelance?” She was in the middle of a sip when she hummed a ‘yes’, slowly turning so she was facing him more.

“I’ve been hired for music videos, photoshoots, fashion shows. I’ve even worked with a few of your people; Harry and Harris.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, “No shit?” He turned his head slightly and thanked the bartender for the refilled glass. She had turned away from him and pulled out her phone, pulling up her photos to show Harry some pictures of her with Lambert and Harris. She even showed him some of her work, quick to pass over sketches she had done, though he could see that she was also talented in her art.

“So you do a little bit of everything and you're good at it. I would say that you have mastered a lot of talents, Bianca.”

This was the first time tonight that he had seen her flush. It could be the limoncello, but he will keep thinking that it was his compliment. She breathed a soft ‘thank you’ as she put her phone away.

She had heard the call of her name, looking over to the dance floor where her sister-in-law had been motioning for her to join. Her two nephews ran over to grab both of her hands to drag her to dance with the rest of her family to one of the most well-known Whitney Houston songs. She threw an apologetic look over to Harry before joining her clan.

Harry watched on from the bar, seeing this alluring woman swaying with her youngest nephew while belting out lyrics with all the other bodies on the dance floor. Harry couldn’t help but yearn to know everything about the D’Angelo who has caught all of his attention.

October 4, 2018

The sky was still in a hazy pink as Harry, Kid, and Mitch walked from Harry’s car to enter Shangri-La. The air surrounding them filled with the salt of the ocean and that heavyweight of heat, moving from one air-conditioned place to the next.

The house was clean and pristine when the boys entered, Don already in the kitchen, setting up the catered breakfast and coffee maker. Don looked to the door as it opened, smiling and wishing the boys ‘good morning’ as he quickly went to wash his hands to give everyone a proper greeting. Don encouraged the boys to make themselves their plates of food and guided them to the studio for them to make themselves home.

Harry was eating some vegan bacon as he followed Don. Upon entering the studio, he saw the back of a girl in overalls and a tie-dyed t-shirt, with her dark messy hair sitting at the top of her head. She was sitting at the piano but Harry could hear no sound.

“My bambina loves to warm up the instruments before they are used to record.” Don pressed the button to allow the sweet melody to melt into the sound room.

The men could hear the melodic piano and a voice that Harry has come to love, even after one blessed encounter.

“You've taken my love, and now desert me.”

Bianca continued to do Freddie Mercury justice as her fingers toyed over the keys, vocalizing the guitar melody as she crescendoed the arrangement before softly vocalizing the final verse. Harry watched as her delicate fingers moved up the keyboard to finish off the song.

“Bellissima, bambina!”

Bianca turned to look at her father, smiling until she saw the three other gentlemen standing beside him. Two of the men continued to eat while one, Harry, was looking right at her, smiling just as big as her father.

“Uh, thanks. I’m done in here, it’s all yours.”

She was quick to stand up and pick up her tattered high-top Chucks, padding out of the room. She was sure to give her dad a kiss and avoided eye contact with everyone else. She made her way to the kitchen to put her shoes on and leave.

When Harry walked out to say hello to her and put his plate in the sink, she was already gone. Harry took the opportunity to look around the kitchen to see that there was a margarita maker. Quick to make his way into the sound room, Harry asked if it was too early for a margarita, to which the room responded with a mixture of ‘no’s’ and ‘never’s’.

More people from Harry’s and Don’s teams began to filter in, enjoying margaritas and partaking in eating some chocolate-covered mushrooms that someone happened to have brought, to help with creativity.

Bianca offered to pick up the catering for the team’s dinner and started to walk the trays into the house. Everyone had been outside, enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, as well as the joint being passed between bodies. Harry saw her through the window, putting a few trays on the counter.

Harry decided to make his way into the kitchen, though decided to take the unorthodox route of using the window, tripping over the lip of the windowsill, landing face-first onto the kitchen floor.

“Jesus Christ, Harry! You alright?!”

She was quick to make her way over to him to help him up. He sat on the floor for a second and began to laugh. As he opened his mouth, blood started to drip down his chin.

“Fuck, Harry! You’re bleeding!”

Bianca got up quickly to get a dish towel and wet it while Harry continued to giggle on the floor, reaching his hand for his chin and it quickly filled with red. She knelt between his legs on her knees while holding his chin up so that she could wipe it with the wet towel.

“Do you mind if I look in your mouth?”

“You can do whatever you want with my mouth…”

Both froze and while Harry’s eyes went wide, Bianca raised her brows and snorted at his comment.

“Feeling good, I see? I just want to make sure you didn’t knock out any teeth.”

Harry gave a quick nod and allowed her to look into his mouth. She tsked at him as she continued to wipe his mouth.

“You bit your tongue pretty bad. Let me get you some ice.”

She was quick to get a clean towel and fill it with ice, brushing her loose strands of hair out of her face as she kneeled back down in front of him. He continued to sit with his tongue out, making her giggle as she rested the towel on his wound.

She shook her head as he was looking at all of the features on her face, reminding himself how warm her brown eyes are, the soft barely there freckles on the bridge of her nose. The zit that she tried to hide with makeup on her chin, the scar in her right brow that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t this close. He could see the hole where a piercing used to be on the left side of her lip, how she had just put chapstick on her lips from how slick they looked.

“You okay here while I get the rest of the food from my Jeep?”

Harry slowly nodded while in his trippy daze mixture from the drugs and her beauty, he gently took the towel from her hand and kept it on his wound. She finished bringing in the food as everyone made their way back inside, laughing at Harry’s child-like position on the floor.

Bianca waved and said goodbye to everyone, gave Don a kiss, and checked up on Harry one last time. Harry was quickly hit with inspiration and an itch to start recording.

October 7, 2018

Walking up and down the aisles of the wine and spirits store, Harry was feeling the prickles of anxiety in his chest as he was looking at the selection of red wines. He had felt the restlessness since he had been invited to the home of the D’Angelo’s for a Sunday dinner, even more so after being in the studio. He wanted to make a good impression as he decided to grab the overpriced bottle of Sangiovese.

As he left with the bottle in hand, he had stopped at the flower shop across the street on the way to his car, deciding on a primarily yellow bouquet. The bouquet had called for him as his figures graced the petals. When walking to his car, he looked at the flowers and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had picked this specific bundle.

Showing up at the D’Angelo’s earlier than they had told him to arrive, Harry had made sure to have both the wine and bouquet in hand. He had taken his time to approach the door, more nervous than he has been in a while. He lifted his hand to rap on the door and before his knuckles made contact, the door flew open and Bianca walked right into his chest.

Both let out a noise at the impact but she began to laugh hysterically before profusely apologizing. Her mother was quick on her heels on the way out the door, asking both of the young adults if they were okay.

Harry gave a soft smile, confirming that he was okay before Bianca gave the excuse that she is ‘always in a hurry’. Ellie was quick to grab her daughter’s hand to pull her along with her, pointing in the direction of Don in the living room.

“We’ll be back sweetie, just need to pop by the store to pick up some things for dinner.” Ellie kissed his cheek as she and Bianca walked to the car. Bianca gave a little wave with a beaming smile, apologizing again for her clumsiness.

Don had called out to Harry from the couch as Harry was watching the girls cruise down the driveway. He got himself out of his daze, following the sound of Don’s voice, closing the door behind him. Don stood up from his spot to greet Harry in the entryway, shaking his hand after he moved his host gifts to his left hand and pulled him in for a hug.

Harry presented the flowers and wine to Don who was quick to rain his praises on the “wonderful taste” Harry had. After putting the flowers in a vase in the center of the family dining table and popping the wine into the wine chiller in the kitchen, Don guided the young man into the living room where a family movie had been paused on the screen.

“I always wait until I'm home alone to watch this video; I get emotional and the famiglia gets embarrassed.” Don gave a deep chuckle as he pressed play.

It was well edited with music playing over montages of a young couple’s romance, time at the beach, ever-growing love. Moments of pregnant Ellie and children slowly made appearances as the video continued. There were scenes of conversations in Italian that Harry could understand just slightly, causing him to laugh at Ellie's awful accent that Don made fun of as he rubbed her swollen belly while talking about, “la nostra piccola bambina”.

It transitioned from a couple’s home videos to a compilation of moments with the whole D’Angelo family. It comprised scenes of family vacations and Sunday dinners, moments where the young D'Angelo's speaking Italian, better than their mother. There were cutaways of all of the children playing and running around, laughing. Harry couldn’t help but smile seeing scenes of Justin on Don’s lap, sitting behind a drum set, Michael helping Ellie make pasta with flour all over his hands and cheeks.

Then he saw a very young Bianca standing in the living room with an ankle-length Little Mermaid nightgown, swaying back and forth while watching Grease play on the screen of the television. Don couldn’t help but beam at his little girl singing Hopelessly Devoted along with Olivia Newton-John, flawlessly at the age of four.

“My bambina, always the singer. Was singing before she could babble.”

Harry’s smile grew as well, especially when the little girl on the screen with mussy hair in her face stopped her swaying when the song ended and turned to give a shy smile to the camera her father was holding.

More scenes of the younger D’Angelo’s showing their musical talents; recitals, musicals, and plays. Harry could see that Bianca was quite the actress, even when she was playing the lead as a zookeeper for the Kindergarten production on animals.

Another moment where it was strictly Bianca had started, her walking out onto a stage towards a piano dressed in a sparkly red semi-formal dress, sitting behind the keys of the piano, and kicking off her ballet flats. The loud chords of It’s All Coming Back to Me were played expertly by a Bianca that could not have been more than sixteen. Her beautiful voice rang out as she emotionally sang out the lyrics.

The door had opened when a giggly Bianca and Ellie carried multiple bags. Bianca was quick to stop in her tracks when she saw the video on the television.

“Dad! Turn that off! Harry doesn’t need to see that, for fucks sakes!”

Don laughed out and leaned closer to Harry, “Told you they are embarrassed.” Don quickly turned off the video before both he and Harry stood up to help the girls with the bags of groceries. Ellie had pointed out the flowers in the center of the table, thanking Harry and kissing his cheek.

Bianca was pulling out ingredients from the reusable bag in front of her, separating by recipe. Harry was helping with a bag next to her, holding up each item for Bianca to guide him where they were to be set.

“Have you ever made homemade pasta, sweetie?” Ellie was popping an olive in her mouth as she was setting up some snacks on the table for people as they arrived, looking to Harry for a response.

“Uh, no, I haven’t. I would love to learn though.”

“Bianca is a great teacher! She can show you how to make linguini for a veggie dish we are making for you.”

Bianca was giving her mother a blunted look as she pulled the ingredients for the spinach and sun-dried tomato linguini towards her. She smiled at Harry before she took all of her rings off, indicating Harry followed suit.

She washed her hands and left the water on for Harry, grabbing the flour and eggs to place on the island. She cleaned off the service and grabbed the measuring cups to put two equal piles of flour on the counter.

“This is going to get messy, do you want an apron?”

Harry shook his head as he watched Bianca make a well in the center of her flour. Harry was quick to copy her movements, making a matching well in his flour mound. Bianca handed him four eggs before grabbing her own, cracking an egg, and pouring out the contents with one hand.

“How do you do that? I’d probably get shells everywhere.”

She had giggled, “Lots of practice, but I can show you.” She took an egg in her hand to show the motions. “First you crack it like you normally would, maybe a little harder to make sure the crack is deep. Then, stick your thumb in between the shells, using your nail. Your pointer and your middle finger will pull the top open with the help of your thumb, while your ring and pinky will pull with the help of your palm and then woop, out pops the egg.”

Harry followed the instructions, though a little slower and gentle as to not squeeze the shell too tight. Bianca moved closer to make sure Harry had a clean egg and sure enough, the perfect, shell-free egg fell next to the one he had cracked previously.

“There you go, a quick learner.” She looked up at him smiling before moving back to her station, finishing her cracking, and started to fork the eggs in the flour. Harry mimicked her motions until he saw her start moving flour into the center with her fingers. He watched as her hands became covered in flour, kneading the now developed dough.

Bianca talked Harry through the process as she continued to knead her dough. Harry continued his motions as she washed her hands to wrap the dough in plastic wrap to let it rest. She also wrapped Harry’s as he washed his hands. Don pulled down the pasta roller for them to use when the time was ready, kissing the top of Bianca’s head before grabbing a bottle of wine for the four of them to enjoy and turning on some music.

Come and Get Your Love by Redbone began to play through the house as Don popped open the bottle Harry had gifted and Ellie started dancing around the table as she set it for ten.

Everyone was quick to start singing the lyrics to the upbeat, feel-good song. Don grabbed Bianca to twirl her into a fit of giggles as she worked at the stove on sauces. Harry moved to Ellie to help her set the table and she bumped her hip to his while continuing her swaying.

The door had opened with Dean and Michael walking in, quickly transitioning to dancing into the kitchen. Dean had another bottle of wine in one hand and a paper bag in the other, pulling out the freshly baked bread as he kissed Bianca’s cheek.

Michael was quick to move to his mother, kissing her cheek, and wrapping his arms around her, as he embraced her while simultaneously dancing and singing. Ellie beamed as she held her son’s cheeks, “Come and get your love!”

Both made their way around the room, hugging and kissing everyone, Harry included. Dean went around and topped off everyone’s wine glass as he poured himself and Michael each a glass as well.

Christine and Justin walked in, followed by their sons, Dylan and Matthew, who ran right to their aunt. Bianca hugged and kissed them, helping them get their stools to be her sous chefs.

Harry went with the flow of the family, helping where he was needed and was fully immersed in the D’Angelo Sunday Dinner tradition. He felt truly welcomed by the family, able to be himself fully.

The Shoop Shoop Song began to play and Bianca let out an audible gasp, quick to join Cher in singing the song. Ellie made her way to her daughter, singing and dancing, both with massive smiles. Harry continued to sip his wine while watching the two women lose themselves to the song.

“She loves Cher. Probably her favorite artist.” Michael stood next to Harry while munching on bruschetta, dusting off his hands before grabbing his wine glass.

“Cher is great.” Harry also grabbed an appetizer, popping it in his mouth.

“Jack is great too. Bianca, I mean.”

Harry smiled, “She told me of the nickname, clever.”

Michael smiled as Justin had joined them, “She is also bambina, or bumblebee if you ask Michael.” Justin joined in on the snacking while Michael nudged Justin’s shoulder.

“Bumblebee?”

“Michael couldn’t say bambina when he was little, thinking it was Bianca’s name, so he always called her bumblebee.”

Harry looked back to the girls, Christine having joined in, now dancing to Marvin Gaye, focusing on Bianca, thinking that bumblebee is a very fitting nickname for the girl.

Everyone had finished their part of the dinner, making many pasta dishes, multiple portions of meat and enough vegetable-focused dishes to make any vegetarian happy.

“Bianca wanted to make sure you had lots of options, sweetie. Don had said that you're vegetarian.”

Harry nodded, taking a bite of one of the many delicious dishes in front of him. “I am, and thank you so much. Most people aren’t as accommodating.”

“Of course, you’re a guest.” Bianca smiled across the table, taking a sip of her limoncello over ice.

“You’re part of the family, Harry.” Don had said as he lifted his wine glass, the rest of the D’Angelo family raising their glasses and voicing their agreement.

October 26, 2018

“Dad! Stop moving! I’m going to mess up!”

Ellie had been giggling from the bathroom as she was pinning her wig on. She looked to her husband, who was sitting at her vanity while their daughter was painting the signature Ziggy Stardust lightning bolt across her father’s freshly shaven face. He had been claiming the brush was tickling him, causing him to squirm and to annoy his bambina.

Bianca let out a frustrated sigh as she swung her extensions behind her shoulders and adjusted the sequined bikini halter before leaning back in with the brush and red paint. After she had finally finished her paint job, she ran a brush through her long, straight hair before adjusting her sequined two-piece Cher costume designed by the one and only Harris Reed.

Don allowed Ellie to help put on his Ziggy Stardust wig after she threw on her leather jacket for her Debbie Harry costume.

The three had left the bedroom to meet Dean in his Purple Rain Prince costume and Michael in his Live Aid Freddie Mercury costume. They met in the kitchen for a cocktail before they made their way to the Casamigos Halloween Party.

The clan had all arrived together, the flashing of cameras began as they exited the car and made their way into the venue. They could hear their names called in every direction, always polite as they smiled and waved to the photographers.

It wasn’t long until all of the attention was off of the D’Angelos and on to who would be the talk of the night with his custom Gucci, Elton John Dodger costume, with large funky glasses and all the glitter in the world.

Bianca accidentally ran into her mother due to the distraction, Ellie quickly looked at what had caught her youngest’s eyes. Ellie began to smile when she saw her daughter in shock and Harry mimicking her expression back. She pulled on her husband's jumpsuit sleeve, showing him the two in awe.

Don’s smile matched his wife’s. “Giovane amore.”

Each person went off to venture around the venue, catching up with old friends and colleagues. Harry once again found Bianca standing at the bar, waiting for a drink. This time, he was the one to start the conversation.

“What will Cher be having tonight?” He leaned on the bar, facing the girl beaming at him as she ‘Cher swung’ her hair over her shoulder.

“Whatever Sir Elton John will be having.” Harry returned the smile and ordered them each a Paloma. They sipped on the tart drinks while catching up, since they haven’t seen each other since Sunday dinner.

“Your costume is phenomenal Harry. You would think you stole it right from Elton himself.”

“Thank you. Gucci always treats me well. Could say the same for your perfect Cher costume. Walked right off the Sonny and Cher Show set.”

“Thank you, but you should thank Harris.”

Harry had checked out the outfit for the hundredth time that night, “Leave it to Harris to do Cher justice. Honestly, though, don’t think anyone could wear that outfit as well as you and Cher herself.”

Harry loved to see the blush that had crept to her cheeks, his vision moving to her lips to watch her smile mold around the rim of the glass to take a drink. He looked back to her eyes as she moved her long hair again.

She cleared her throat, “Are you having fun? Enjoying the party?”

“More fun now that I’m at the bar with you. Tired of getting pulled to take pictures with everyone.”

“Yeah, that must be annoying. Can’t enjoy anything for yourself.”

“I’m enjoying this though.” Again, Harry was proud of her blush. “I would love to take a picture with you though. Would make sense since Elton and Cher are friends and all.” He raised his brows with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You want to take a selfie with me, Harry?”

“It would be my favorite picture of the night.”

“Alright.” She adjusted the high-waisted sequin bell-bottoms as well as the halter before moving her hair so that Harry could comfortably wrap his arm around her waist. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder comfortably, being his height in her heels. Harry pulled out his phone and took a few shots, one including him kissing her cheek.

“I could send these to you, but I don’t have your number.”

Bianca gave a playful scowl but quickly gave him her phone number and received the pictures. She reviewed them, smiling at her phone.

“These are great.”

Harry couldn’t help his grin, though it was interrupted by the call of his name. Harry internally groaned, not wanting to be taken away from Bianca but his mood changed when he saw Ziggy Stardust walk toward him. Harry let out a laugh at the slightly inebriated Don.

“You look great H!”

“So do you, Don.” Harry let Don embrace him before he wrapped himself around his daughter. He began to slur in Italian, so it was hard for Harry to eves-drop. Harry knew he was talking about him when he heard his name and both were smiling in his direction.

“Dad wants to know if you would like to join us for some midnight greasy food.”

Don started mumbling again, though this time, Harry could understand Don’s dire need for a bacon cheeseburger. Harry finished his drink and followed the family to the diner down the street.

All dressed in their rock-star attire, they were the life of the party at the diner. All the staff came out to take a look, even asking to take some pictures. They even took a group picture for the crew to have as a keepsake.

Bianca had noticed how a group of girls in the corner were in fits of giggles and constantly had their phones out. Harry had been facing them as well, keeping his head down and sipping a milkshake to avoid his face from being in the pictures. Michael had been sitting across from her, obnoxiously laughing at Don’s animalistic ingestion of his greasy burger.

Bianca nudged his leg under the table to get his attention, to which he looked up, “What’s up, Jack?”

“Switch seats with Harry.” She nodded her head inconspicuously to the group in the booth, to which Micheal had turned to kiss Dean on the cheek to take a quick look. He was quick to get up and rub Harry’s shoulder to indicate for them to switch.

Once Harry was sat across from Bianca, he fully joined the group in conversation and contentment. He looked at her and she was already looking at him smiling. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ and she nodded in return.

December 18, 2018

After spending the day with his family, helping his mother with the holiday baking, Harry was happy to be in his London abode, able to relax for the night. He changed into his most comfortable sweatpants and most tattered t-shirt and clipped his hair from his face before settling on the couch with a holiday movie playing in the background.

He pulled out his phone to catch up on his emails and social media, seeing his friends and family enjoying holiday festivities. Harry saw that Don had started a live video on Instagram, so he decided to watch what the D’Angelo family were doing for the holidays.

To no surprise, there was music playing in the background while the family was surrounded by food and wine. Don was walking around, loving on each family member and encouraging them to chat to the live stream.

Harry’s heart rate had increased when he heard Don call for ‘bambina’, who appeared to be holding a baby.

“Who do we have here, bambina?”

Bianca was beaming down at the little bundle in her arms who was sound asleep.

“Meet the new D’Angelo; this is Ms. Adeline.”

Michael was sitting next to his sister, looking down lovingly at the tiny girl in her arms.

“And who is Ms. Adeline?”

Michael turned to look at his father who was holding his phone, filming the moment.

“She is Dean’s and my new daughter.”

Harry watched on as the family loved the new member until the video ended. He had decided to check out Don’s Instagram page, seeing pictures and videos of his family and the bands he had worked with while they were in the studio.

He had scrolled back towards the beginning of the year, seeing a still of a video of a young Bianca running in with a guitar the size of her. Harry stayed on the frame and let the video play.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what Michael taught me!”

She sat on the floor with the guitar covering most of her frame, her head poking out, and her little hands forming around the neck of the instrument. She watched as her fingers formed chords, strumming slowly.

“Moon river, wider than a mile. I’m crossing you in style, someday.”

The video had ended and Harry saw that there was a second video to the post. He slid his finger over to watch an adult Bianca continue to sing Moon River expertly while sitting in a window, similar to Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She smiled at the camera as the song and video ended.

Harry read the caption to the video.

Happy 25th birthday, bambina. So proud of the woman you’ve become. 💛

Harry unconsciously clicked on her tagged name and went to her Instagram page. He scrolled through seeing selfies, pictures with friends, and even videos of her doing covers of songs.

The most recent video was posted right before the anniversary party. She was sitting at the piano, the angle was a view of her side-profile with a beach behind her through the window. The sun was shining, casting a shadow over her in the black and white video. Bianca was performing a heartbreaking rendition of Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac, putting all of her emotions into the climax of the song, belting out so that you could hear the echo of her voice throughout the house she was in.

Harry browsed the family and foodie pictures, admiring how effortlessly happy she had appeared the summer of 2018.

Another video had started to play of Dean and Bianca in their loungewear and socks, drunkenly giggled with Bruno Mars playing in the background. They made their way to the middle of the screen and effortlessly danced the dance break of Finesse that was performed at The Grammys that year. He giggled when at the end of the dance, Bianca jumped into Dean’s arms screaming because they had perfected the dance.

Harry continued to peruse her Instagram page. He couldn’t recall how far back he had gone, but he had paused on a picture of Bianca in a mirror selfie with Harris, wearing the sparkly purple shirt Harry wore in Vancouver. He read the caption, “When working with friends, you become a model.”

There were more pictures of Bianca with Harris as well as pictures of her with Lambert on sets of shoots. Pictures of different cities from travel were more frequent. Then, there was a video that Harry had watched more times he could count.

Bianca had been sitting at a studio piano, in a different location than other videos of her performing she had posted more recently. She even appeared a little younger and fresh faced with a natural glow. He could see a few windows in the background open, the sounds of a city as background noise.

“I know this song just came out, but I’m so obsessed that I couldn’t help myself from learning it as fast as I could.”

She began to play Sign of the Times flawlessly, belting out the lyrics and occasionally adding her own flair that Harry couldn’t help but melt at. He knew that he had to have this person in his life the moment her child-like smile shined to the camera.

Harry watched it one last time before he pulled up her contact, the picture of them from Halloween as her contact photo. He pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear.

“Well, hello Harry. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Would you like a permanent job working with me and my team as our creative director?”

There was a pause on the other line and Harry thought that he made a mistake.

“I would love that.”

Here she is! I have to say, working over a year in the plot (that is still changing daily) has made me so damn proud of this fic. I cannot wait to see what everyone has to say and if people love this fic as much as I do.

I have to give the biggest and most loving thank you to @mysweetcreaturestories for working on the plot and inspiring me to write the fic, to @harrysgoldenbum and @for-fucks-sake-h for being the most amazing betas and helping me through out this whole thing, and @nattalina-shop for making the most beautiful header that I could have dreamed of. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Please feel free to drop me an ask, tell me your thoughts, ask me questions, whatever your heart’s desires.

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Unabridged: 109 (1978)

The X-Men, those plant-loving mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 109) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Ororo not noticing Moira casually drowning Banshee or Wolverine being punted around by some poutine-roided idiot because she’s too busy eating the Piotr-shaped eye candy is such a mood.

I wonder what my ethnic curse would be. Perhaps: ‘By Mata Hari’s bedazled bikini!’

Plot-wise, issue 109 is not that dense. Half the issue deals with the X-Men coming home from their space-adventures, the other half has Wolverine dealing with the Canadian government coming to claim their lost asset. I mean, Claremont uses three pages to tie up some loose Shi’ar ends through flashback because the last issue couldn’t fit it all in. It’s by its very definition a breather issue.

Doesn’t mean it’s not awesome.

WHERE TO START?! Why not with plant mommy Ororo?

Storm’s secondary mutation has to be that her hair always looks like a fabulous follicular cascade, even during an indoor spring shower.

Look, if I had weather powers, I’d probably be using it for mundane shit like watering my plants and ensuring nice weather at my friend’s weddings too. (Okay, maybe sometimes I’d zap dudes who tell random girls in bars to smile more.)

While Storm talks to plants and takes all her clothes off, Kurt does the other thing I do after a rough day at the office: he calls someone for some nookie.

I love that Amanda is so extra that she gives out signed photos of herself.

Kurt just looks so fucking cute here. Look at those little fangs! Yeah, Amanda, get it.

Like a lot of people to whom communication comes as easily as breathing, Piotr is defeated when faced with a blank letter. Look at that trash can: he’s tried this waaaaay too many times.

Anyway, I think “Sorry I haven’t been writing, was busy saving the universe. Weather’s lovely” has a nice ring to it.

Star Wars had been out for around half a year when this comic was published, and it’s safe to say Claremont was a huge fan. You can tell by the direction these comics are taken: the whole Shi’Ar space opera is obliquely inspired by Star Wars and Star Trek and their aesthetics. I mean, Corsair asks to be beamed up and there’s even references to a captain “Spo’ock”.

It was the end of the 70s. Everybody wanted to be a Skywalker: space was big, y’all. Nightcrawler loving the movies is not a coincidence - I wonder if Claremont was also a fan of Errol Flynn.

Anyway, we follow Kurt one more floor down, where he spooks Scott, brooding at the window. The result is an unintentionally hilarious interaction, where Scott and Kurt discuss Real Issues Like Men while Jean comes out to her parents outside.

“Mom and dad, I’m… the Phoenix.”

“Honey, we figured you might be when you introduced us to Misty Kn… Wait, what?”

To be fair, being possessed by a cosmic force for rebirth is almost the same as being gay: it imbues you with fabulous new insights, you start experimenting with your wardrobe and ever so often, you want to burn down the galaxy because some bitches in a gay club have slighted you.

But all that will come later.

Anyway, Jean’s kinda silly coming out leads to a pretty honest heart-to-heart between Nightcrawler and Cyclops. Scott tries to give Kurt grief because of his happy-go-lucky attitude, and Kurt gives him a deserved put-down.

Life can be unkind, Scotty, so embrace the kindness provided to you by a wise little devil.

Scott prefers to brood and Kurt is hanging with Amanda, so it’s a foursome - maybe even a double date? Moira and Sean, Piotr and Ororo. Logan asks for a ride - not because he wants to eat cheese and crackers among ants, no, he wants to blow off steam.

The X-Men’s chicken or egg: did Logan’s sideburns decide the shape of his headpiece, or did the headpiece shape his haircut?

I started reading the X-Men just when the Marvel Universe was starting to reach the height of Wolverine saturation: he was simply everywhere. Like, at some point, he was in X-Force and the Avengers while also being a Headmaster of the Jean Grey school. Add to that him being the face of the Fox X-Men universe… Listen, it was easy to get sick of him. I kind of did.

But this? Original flavor Wolverine, who’s still kinda short, kinda ugly and kinda stuck being a loner? He works as a character. Chris Claremont is beginning to explore his duality: the wild animal who has been experimented on vs. the honorable man who would do anything for his found family. He gives me major Granny Weatherwax vibes: he’s the kind of person who doesn’t need people, but he does need people to know that he doesn’t need people.

So yeah, he's still cool.

Also, his healing factor hasn’t been kicked to superhuman levels yet - you know, being able to regenerate from a single cell or whatever - so he actually feels kind of anxious when he’s about to toss himself off cliffs etc.

Not happy about that red belt, though.

Anyway, Wolverine is out doing the noble hunting-without-killing-thing, and then this motherfucker wrapped in a flag shows up. Look, I know I have something against dudes who brandish their nationality as their superhero identity, but this fool is just… ugh.

James MacDonald = the worst. Trust me on this.

Major MacMapleleaf then punts Wolverine across the forest, right into the other X-Men’s picnic, and now we’re all caught up.

Out of all the X-Men in this issue, Sean gets the least amount of screen time but, hey, at least I can steal a joke from him.

Don’t worry, despite the martyr/pièta pose, Moira will turn out just fine!

You weren’t worried?

Anyone?

Look, is there anyone who genuinely likes Moira as a character?

James Hudson, being the worst, doesn’t give a fuck that he just cross-fired an innocent woman - er, innocent as far as he knows, at least - and just nopes out of there, too outnumbered to fight the X-Men.

Yeah, you better run.

He vows to return with Alpha Flight, which… Eh, he’ll at least bring some more interesting characters with him. (Snowbird!) Now that he has sown enough seeds for a future plot to pick up on, Claremont calls it a day. I will also call it a day, after a little fashion watch. Out of all of these character, who has chosen the worst outfit?

Scott. It’s Scott. Look, I get that those ruby quartz glasses make the world a different color for you, but you’re wearing a mustard suit and a bespeckled yellow shirt underneath. Even when considering Moira’s attitude, it’s still the most stank thing in the doorway.

Sean, just what do you see in her?

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy (3)

By popular demand and my current Ladrien fixation I bring to you part 3 of this fluff fest. Enjoy!

---

Plagg was this close to throwing an extra large wheel of cheese at Adrien’s head. After Ladybug left last night he had been skipping around his room with the biggest, dorkiest grin imaginable. Every once in a while he would stop to contemplate how hurt his friend Marinette would be about this before he perked up again. Now he was standing in a pile of clothes trying to pick out an outfit for the movies tonight.

"What about this?" Adrien held up a black button up. "It's nice but understated and it would match Ladybug’s costume. Or is it weird to coordinate? Or maybe too fancy for a movie date? I have a black v-neck that may be better. What do you think?"

"It all looks the same to me," Plagg answered, not bothering to look up from the comic book he was reading.

"Plagg! Come on! Just give me an opinion. This is a big deal for me!"

Plagg grinned, a wicked thought entering his brain. "Oh I just don't know, Adrien. I don't wear clothes so I don't have the best source of judgement. Why don't you ask the designer friend of yours? I'm sure she would love to help you."

"That's actually a great idea--hey, wait a second--Plagg!" Adrien torn the comic out from under him like a tablecloth, "I can't ask Marinette for help regarding my date with Ladybug! Are you mad? Did you forget that she's the one that I need to reject after this?"

"Oh? Is she?" Plagg feigned ignorance. This was just too good to pass up. If only this poor little kitten of his knew the truth. He was rejecting the same girl he was going on a date with. He had to mess with him a little.

"Yes, Plagg, I have gone over this at length already." Adrien sighed, with a shake of his head, "Just work with me here and say button up or v-neck."

"Nude,"

Adrien tossed the comic back down. "You’re not funny."

"Really? I'm pretty sure I'm hilarious. You are just too young to appreciate my humor."

"Yeah, sure, that's the problem." Adrien looked between the two shirts he had before tossing the one aside. "V-neck. Definitely the v-neck."

He cradled the shirt close to him and Plagg had a moment of sincerity. Adrien was really happy about this date. He had never seen him so excited before. For decades Plagg had watched humans fall in love over and over. He could never really understand it since kwamis were incapable of the romantic love humans felt but he knew what familial love felt like. He knew that he loved Adrien as his chosen. If romantic love was anything like that then he wouldn't spoil the experience for Adrien anymore today. Tease him about any funny slip ups he may experience later, yes. But for today he would let the boy be. He deserved it.

---

"You really didn't have to see me off for my date, Alya." Marinette said, "I'm fine."

"You know I had to come. It's your first date with Adrien. No way was I gonna miss this." Alya kicked her feet excitedly, "I wanna hear all about it when you get back."

"What? Are you just gonna hang out here until I get home? Are you that interested in how my date goes that you’re going to wait up for me?"

"Duh, was that not obvious?"

"Well then," Marinette transformed, "how do I look?"

"You look like Ladybug."

"Right…" Ladybug looked at herself in the mirror before pulling the ribbons out of her hair to let it loose. "There, a little more casual. Right?"

"Sure, girl, a superhero wearing her hair down. Casual to the max." Alya rolled her eyes. "Now get going or you'll be late."

"Okay, see you later." She jumped through the trapdoor of her balcony and was off. Her heart was thundering loud in her chest the closer she got to the theater. She stopped at the building across from it and searched the faces heading inside. Then like a beacon under the neon lights she saw him. Adrien.

Okay. Be cool. Don't do anything stupid.

She fixed her hair and jumped off the building. She landed in her best hero pose across the street from him. When she looked up he was staring at her in awe.

Nailed it!

She then promptly tripped on the curb crossing the street.

"Watch it!" Adrien caught her by the arms before she could collide with the concrete, "You okay?"

"Yeah! Thanks! I've taken much worse tumbles than that." she laughed it off. "Guess you saved me this time."

"Uh yeah, I guess," Adrien fidgeted with his ring, "You look really nice. You're wearing your hair differently."

"Heroes gotta let their hair down sometimes, huh?" she chuckled to herself. "Consider it my unofficial off-duty look. Not that I'm ever really off-duty but you get what I mean."

"I get what you mean." They stood for a moment just staring at one another in mutual lovestruck awe before either of them remembered they were here for a date.

“Should we head in?” Adrien pointed back to the theater.

“Right, yes, we should do that.” they wandered inside and immediately gazes were drawn as they made their way to purchase their tickets. Despite her arguing that she could buy her own ticket Adrien insisted on getting it for her. She played truce and bought the snacks instead.

They followed the crowd into the theater. A few people stopped Ladybug to get some pictures or an autograph. Adrien patiently waited with the snacks as he scanned the room for good seats. It was surprisingly packed for such a late showing. “Uh Ladybug,” Adrien called for her attention, “I’m gonna go save us some seats so you come by whenever you’re done.”

“I’ll be right there. Thanks.” she gave him a thumbs up before going back to her fans. She really didn’t mind when fans came up to her, she was always honored, but she was here for a date. It didn’t feel right to let him go off on his own so she could take pictures.

The lights started to go down and she used that as her excuse to take her seat. She edged past the other theater goers and sat down in the chair next to Adrien. “Sorry about all that,” she whispered as the movie started, “You have my attention for the rest of the night. Promise.”

“Don’t worry. I totally get it. People stop me when I’m out with friends from time to time.” Adrien assured her. “I’m just glad to be here with you at all.”

Marinette blushed red hot and she found herself thankful for the dark theater. “I’m happy to be here with you too.”

The movie started in ernest and they drew their attention to it. Every once in a while she would catch him watching her instead of the movie or he would spot her staring at him. They’d quickly look away and smile, trying to keep their attention on what was happening on the screen. At one point she went to put her arm on the arm rest between them and nearly jumped out of her seat when she fully laid her hand overtop Adrien’s without noticing.

“Sorry,” Adrien blurted out but was quickly shushed by the audience, “sorry,” he whispered in a quieter voice, “you can have it.”

“No, no, you can have it--I just--”

“No. Really, I’ve been hogging it all night. You take it.”

“I don’t need it. Please, just take it--”

“One of you had better take it and shut up already.” someone behind them hissed.

“Sorry,” Ladybug squeaked. She moved to put her arm back and bumped into Adrien who was doing the same thing. They giggled for a moment. Then Adrien rested his arm on it with his palm facing up.

His eyes met hers with a shy, expectant smile. Oh! She bit her lip and laid her arm on top of his and interlaced their fingers together. Tonight was the best night ever just for this!

They stayed holding hands for the rest of the movie and when they got up to leave they were still interlocked. Neither wanted to let the connection break just yet. They walked out of the theater and into the cool night air.

“This was a lot of fun.” Ladybug said, “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me.”

“I’m still surprised you asked me out in the first place.” Adrien said, his gaze traveled down to their interlaced hands, “This was really nice.”

“Do you have a ride home?” Ladybug asked.

“No chauffeur tonight,” Adrien looked down the street then back at her, his voice dropping low to a whisper, “Between you and me, I’m not supposed to be out here.”

“How rebellious!” Ladybug scoffed, with a mock scandalized face, “Did you sneak out to come here tonight? I don’t know, Adrien. That’s top tier felon behaviour. I may have to turn you in.”

“Oh please, Ladybug, have mercy.” he pleaded with the same level of theatrics, “I meant no harm! Don’t send me to the slammer!”

“Oh alright,” Ladybug giggled, “I can’t throw a pretty face like yours in jail. You wouldn’t last ten minutes with all those other big bads. All those jaywalkers and litterbugs, they’d tear you apart.”

“You underestimate me, I could have control of the yard in five.”

“I bet you could.” she shook her head. “So since you don’t have a ride home did you need a lift? I can get you back lickety split.”

“How about instead of a lift you give me an escort.” Adrien asked, his big green puppy dog eyes blinking down at her, “As fun as the movie was I didn’t really get to talk to you which is the one thing I wanted to do most tonight.”

“How can I say no to that?” she squeezed his hand tighter, “I want to get to know you better too.”

They left the theater on foot back towards Adrien’s house. Neither had anywhere to be and no rush to end their date just yet so they kept the pace slow and let themselves take the long way around.

“Let me start simple,” Adrien said, “What is your favorite color?”

“Pink. But not like a hot neon pink, more of a soft sunset pink. What about you?”

“Blue. It’s just so relaxing to look at in almost all its forms. I think my favorite shade would have to be a soft sky blue though.”

“That’s nice. Alright, my question.” Ladybug pondered it for a moment, “What is your most treasured memory?”

“Wow. Starting off strong huh? I feel kinda ridiculous with my color question.”

“Don’t be. Sorry. I should have said something a little simpler, shouldn’t I?”

“No. I like your question. I just need to think about it. Gimme a second.” Adrien said as he started to think. He was really thinking this through. “I think my most treasured memory would be Christmas Eve when I was six.”

“Not Christmas morning?”

“The morning was great but I’ll never forget the night prior.” Adrien’s eyes took on a far away look, “It was as basic as Christmas Eve’s go. I wanted to stay up so I could meet Santa. My parents said that he wouldn’t come if I stayed up though and sent me off to bed. It was around midnight and I heard a noise coming from downstairs. I assumed it was Santa so I swung out of bed and raced out of my room to catch him before he could leave.

“I got down there and I found presents under the tree but no Santa. There was a light on in the kitchen and I figured he must be getting his milk and cookies. I go up to the door and push it open. There’s no Santa in the kitchen but there are my parents. My mom is sitting on the island munching on a gingerbread cookie, father is looking in the fridge, there’s quiet Christmas music playing on the radio next to them.

“My father closes the fridge and holds up a piece of mistletoe he must have hidden in there. Mom laughs and when he went in to kiss her she held up the gingerbread man so he kissed that instead. Father looked grumpy and bit the head off. Mom gasped and was all like, “I cannot believe you decapitated Mister Gingy! He had three kids you monster!” which made me laugh. Of course now they know I’m there and father picks me up and tells me I should be in bed and all that stuff. I wasn’t listening and instead I grabbed the mistletoe and held it up to mom. I meant it so my parents could kiss but instead they both kissed my cheeks instead. We stayed up for at least another hour eating cookies and drinking warm milk and hot coco before I fell asleep and they put me back to bed.”

“That is so cute!” Ladybug gushed, “I can see it all in my head. Squishy faced kiddie Adrien sneaking out of bed and eating cookies with his parents. That’s a really sweet memory.”

“I’ll never forget it.” Adrien sighed. For a moment he looked so sad and Marinette wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have asked him. The memory of his mom probably hurt to think about. “What about you? What’s your most treasured memory?”

Now that was a tough one. She couldn’t really go into childhood stories since it would give away too much as to her identity. It was then she thought of the perfect story. “There is one memory I hold really close to my heart.” she said.

“I was on patrol one evening by myself. It was raining but I didn’t want to go home cause I was going through some stuff emotionally and I didn’t want to be cooped up. So I’m running and running and I almost slip off the roof. I realize I should take a break so I huddle under this awning of this closed cafe to catch my breath and see if the rain lets up. I’m waiting for maybe five minutes and because I’m not moving my emotions from before I starting to catch up to me. I’m on the verge of breaking down when out of nowhere Chat Noir lands on the sidewalk in front of me. I say land but he more or less faceplanted. He has a box covered in a plastic bag to keep it dry that he’s holding off the ground. He pulls himself up like he didn’t just have an intimate meeting with the concrete and walks over to me like it is the most casual thing in the world. Now mind you, I was not expecting to see him. I didn’t tell him I was coming out here nor did he have any idea where I was but he found me nonetheless.

“He huddles under the awning with me and takes the plastic bag off the box. I realize at this point it is a wrapped present. I ask him what this is supposed to be for and he tells me that since we don’t know when each other’s birthdays are he was going to pick a random day to give me a birthday present. And apparently this rainy evening was that day. I tried telling he didn’t need to but he insisted so I take the present and unwrap it. When I tell you, this idiot actually gifted me a black cat onesie with a cat ear hood and little toe beans on the feet. I started laughing and asked if he had a matching ladybug onesie and he told me he did. I start laughing harder and I can tell he thinks that I’m laughing at him so I quickly assure him I’m not. I tell him I really love the gift and I give him a hug. To him he probably thinks that he just gave me a nice present but in reality he pulled me back from a really sad place without even knowing it.

“Of course the second I got home I put the onesie on and started thinking of a birthday present I could get for him. I wanted it to be perfect as a sort of thank you for cheering me up when I was in a really bad mood. I never told him just how much that one little present, that one encounter, helped me but it did. I like to think about it whenever I get in a bad mood. Remembering his mop of drenched hair and that big expectant smile never fails to cheer me up.”

When she looked back at Adrien he looked close to tears. “Oh hey, are you okay? Did I say something? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he wiped at his eyes with his free hand, “It’s just, your friendship with him is great. I think that the next time you see him you should tell him how much that meant to you. I’m sure it would make him really happy.”

“I think I will,”

They got to Adrien’s house and they both stood frozen on the sidewalk. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye now.”

“Guess so,” Adrien stared up at the tall stone walls. “All good thinks must come to an end.”

“There are always more good times to come though.” Ladybug said, “Speaking of which, would you be interested in going on a second date sometime?”

“I would love to.” Adrien answered with a bright smile. “How do I get a hold of you?”

“I’ll come to you.” she let go of his hand to wrap around his waist. With a flick of her wrist she sent her yo-yo up and pulled them off the ground. They swung into his room and she deposited him back down safely. “Goodnight, Adrien. I had a wonderful time and I’ll be by to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye Ladybug. Tonight was...it was perfect.” He leaned in closer or maybe it was Marinette that leaned in but one of them leaned in. Then just as quickly they withdrew. Arms hugged close to their sides.

“I should get going,” Ladybug stumbled back towards the window. She poised to throw her yo-yo but she made the mistake of taking one final look back at Adrien. He was watching her with such a soft and loving expression. She couldn’t just end it like this.

She rushed back to him and kissed his cheek. “See you later, bye!” she fully vaulted herself out the window the next instant and booked it as fast as she could back home. She dropped down onto her balcony. Her heart was beating fast and her face ached from how hard she was smiling.

---

(Part 1) (Previous) (Probably another part cause I know no self control and you people enable me)

[marvellous1917]

Dance with me?

Steve Rogers imagine.

Summary: it’s Tony’s birthday, you know what that means. Yep, it’s a gigantic party at the the Avengers tower and it just so happens that Tony’s assistant is coming, the one Steve Rogers can never seem to take his eyes off.

Warnings: umm cursing, alcohol consumption, flirting, dancing? I’m pretty sure thats it.

A/N: ooo do love me some Steve. I was listening to Ready for Love by Bad Company, if you wanted a song to go with the start of this fic.

—

The music was loud, some sexy rock song blasting on the speakers. The room was full of people, some familiar, most not, and over half were on the makeshift dance floor bumping and grinding together. Hands exploring over every inch of their partners, bodies pressed close together, guys on girls, guys on guys and girls on girls, sex was oozing into the air. Tony, of course, was having the time of his life, a pretty boy on one side of him and a pretty girl on the other, talking low under their breath, whispering secrets into each others ears.

And you? Sat by the bar, favourite drink in hand, fingers tracing the rim as your eyes travel over the room admiring the carelessness of the other guests. Well.. it would be fun to let loose for a night, but with your boss present? Not a great idea. ‘But,’ you think, ‘Tony did say to have fun and by his definition, that means get shitfaced and find someone to spend the night with.’

Sipping on your drink, your eyes land on the boys by the pool table. ‘Oh, that could be fun,’ you think, making eye contact with the blond with the short hair. Steve Rogers. Captain America. The county’s golden boy. His eyes keep steady on yours, not wavering or moving. He’s always staring, from the first day you met, whenever you would look at him, he was already looking. It was somewhat unsettling at first, the feeling that you were being judged, but the longer you got to know Steve, the better you understood that is how he makes sure people are ok. His eyes were constantly on Bucky where he first moved in, making sure that his friend was ok. It became a comfort after a while, always knowing you had someone watching your back. Slowly standing and making you way over to the table, you don’t break eye contact with him, looking deep into his beautiful blues. His face was relaxed but his smile slowly widened with every step you took.

“Hey boys, enjoying the party?” You say, moving your gaze away from Steve and onto the other participants of the game.

“Hey Y/N, yeah it’s a blast, thanks for doing the weird ass jobs Stark sets you and throwing this one,” Sam responds, throwing a friendly arm around your shoulder, missing the glare coming from Steve.

“Yes of course, parties on Asgard are actually not that different. Well apart from the no fighting rule here. Bloody battles between friends are nothing, am I right Birdman?” Thor adds, his hand clasping on Clints’ shoulder in a strong grip, the archer wincing slightly under the heavy hand.

“Yeah man, whatever,” Clint says, grabbing Thor’s’ hand and peeling it off his shoulder. “Hey Y/n, why haven’t I seen ya dancing? You got two left feet or somthing?” The alcohol in his bloodstream more obvious now, due to the slur of his words and the slight tilt of his stature.

“Oh I don’t know, man, that’s just...uh..not my type of dance I guess,” you respond, shrugging. You look to the silent Captin, “I haven’t seen our very own icicle on the dance floor either, what’s that about Cap?”

“Oh I don’t really dance, except slow and especially not like that,” he responds, head tilting towards the crowd.

“What, not a fan of the bump and grind? You more a swing kinda guy?”

“No I was never good at that either,” he answers you with a small laugh.

“Trust me, he’s telling the truth,” Bucky adds while patting Steve on the back, “don’t think I ever seen this one in a dance that wasn’t slow that ended well.”

The music changed, Nat’s playlist throwing the room into confusion as the next song that sounds is the slow melodic tune of Etta James’ At Last playing through the speakers.

“Oh I wanna know how you old boys would dance to this, Steve will you do me the honor?” You ask and without waiting for an answer, you grab his hand and pull him to the floor, wanting to dance to one of your favourites. He grips your hand tight, not letting you go too far and tugs you back until you spin into his chest, his hands almost hesitantly in you waist.

“Oh he has some moves after all, huh?” You say, hands resting on his shoulder. “Knew you had it in you.”

“Well I didn’t want you thinking I got nothing, though I will be honest, I got no idea what I’m doing now,” he reply’s his head tilting down to look you in your eyes.

“Yeah, me neither,” you say with a smile, Steve mimicking it. “Guess we’ll figure it out together.”

His smile turns soft and he pulls you a little closer, your head coming to rest on his chest. “Well, I am pretty sure that the guy is supposed to be the one to ask the lovley lady to dance,” he adds, his eyes meeting yours with a cheeky glint .

“Wow, what an old-fashioned way of thinking, you gotta remember gramps, we’re in the future now, equality’s a pretty big thing here. Meaning I can ask you to dance all I want,” you respond in kind, a small smirk appearing on your face.

“Oh right,” he says, “and will you be asking me to dance often or...?” He trails off, the beat of his heart showing the true meaning behind his question.

Using his shoulders as a solid, you rise up on your toes and whisper in his ear, “Maybe, depends on if you drop me,”

“Wait what?” He asks, hands gripping tighter on your waist.

“Song’s coming to an end Rogers, gotta do a dip right?” You say, pulling away to look at him straight on, fingers moving to play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He responds, seemingly distracted by your fingers on his skin.

“You ready?” You say, hearing the last lines of the song. He nods, moving one hand to your upper back, the other staying in your waist. “Don’t drop me please,” you add, a sliver of fear creeping up in your chest.

He just stares into your eyes and smiles, “Never.”

—

A/n: hey my first fic! Feel free to give me feedback. Please? :)

[celestialtitania]

my colours on you

Written for Day 9: Blanket of Marichat May. Can also read on AO3.

@marichatmay

Marinette let her head collapse onto her desk as soon as Mme. Bustier gave them the dismissal. She was utterly exhausted. The only thing Marinette wanted to do was take a nice long nap.

She turned her face towards Alya, feeling her best friend watching her in amusement. "Girl, you have got to start getting some more sleep. This cannot be healthy for you."

"You're one to talk," Marinette groused. "I know for a fact that you sleep no earlier than 2 am most nights, writing up new articles for the Ladyblog."

Alya flushed in response. "But I'm not the one dying, now am I?" came the expected retort.

"Only because you've got that," Marinette pushed herself upwards to nod at Alya's large thermos. She gave it a longing stare, knowing it was full of Alya's special cinnamon-blend coffee.

"No way. If you get caffeinated now you'll never get any sleep. It's a vicious cycle you know," Alya chided. Marinette sighed, laying back onto her desk and burying her head into her arms. "C'mon, let's get some fresh air."

"You do that. I'm gonna take a quick nap," Marinette yawned.

Alya frowned doubtfully. "I don't know, girl. You could catch a cold like that." Marinette blinked at her in confusion, so Alya tried her best to explain. "I don't know, something about cold weather lowering your immune system? And that you're more at risk when asleep?"

Marinette thought that over for a moment before digging into her backpack. She pulled out a small, round blanket bag while Alya goggled at her.

"Is that a blanket? You just carry around a blanket?"

"It's cozy," Marinette defended herself, pulling the blanket free from its bag. "At least now when you post my sleeping pics, I'll look stylish," she joked.

"Viewers of the #marinettechallenge thank you," Alya responded dryly. They shared a laugh over that as Marinette finished unfolding her blanket. It was dark black in colour with lime green piping. What made it interesting was the gigantic paw print stamped in the middle of the blanket.

"No way," Alya breathed out in awe. "Where'd you get that?" She demanded to know.

Marinette simply smirked at her. "Where do you think?"

"No. Way," Alya gushed.

"Well...I found the blanket at a thrift sale. But I added the paw print and piping myself," Marinette clarified, her modesty getting the best of her.

"That does not make you any less awesome. I can't imagine how long it must have taken," Alya looked utterly astonished, reaching out to run a hand over the blanket. Marinette graciously allowed her to stroke it before pulling it away.

"Ahem, nap time," she reminded her friend.

"Wait, hold on!" Alya cried. "I have to put this on my blog!"

"Your blog?" Marinette echoed. "Why?"

Alya stared at her in disbelief. "Girl, the blanket is clearly Chat Noir inspired. I have to show my viewers and also I think Chat Noir would be flattered to know about it."

Marinette thought it over. Alya wasn't wrong, her Kitty would be delighted to know he had a fan. The thought of him smiling in glee won her over. Marinette spread out the blanket as much as she could along their table, raising an eyebrow at Alya when she continued to watch her without reacting.

"Well? Aren't you gonna take the photo?"

Alya reacted faster than Marinette expected, whipping out her phone with a gigantic grin on her face. She began snapping pictures rapidly from all angles until she was satisfied.

"Thanks, Marinette!"

They turned towards the doorway as someone sprinted in. Adrien was panting, bent over with his hands on his knees. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was sticking up in different directions.

The sight of him was enough to make Marinette swoon.

"Made it just in time," he sighed, before giving them a smile. "Hey, guys. Did I miss anything important in morning classes? I had a photoshoot I couldn't get out of."

"Just this amazing blanket my girl made," Alya bragged. She waved her hands to demonstrate the blanket where it was laying on their desk.

Adrien's eyes took on an interested shine as he leaned in to examine it. "Wow, Marinette. This looks amazing. You're so awesome," he smiled at her. The brightness of his smile made Marinette's heart flutter and she had to grip tightly to the desk to make her tongue move.

"Yank tou! I mean thank you, Adrien!" She stammered. He gave her another blinding smile before slipping into his seat.

"Okay, I can die happy now," Marinette muttered to Alya, who simply chuckled. "Okay, but seriously," she pulled the blanket off the desk, draping it around herself. "It's nap time. Mme. Bustier will be back soon and I need some rest."

Alya didn't say another word, but as Marinette drifted off to sleep, she thought she had seen Adrien turning around to look at her.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Chat Noir leaped through the rooftops, trying to avoid going to Marinette's place. He didn't know how to explain it but the sight of her, wrapped in his colours with a paw print stamped over her back?

It had awoken some urge within him, he hadn't even known he had had. He was lucky that Marinette had fallen asleep so quickly, otherwise, she would have never let him live it down. Not that he had gotten lucky with Alya.

He was still lost in his thoughts about how cute Marinette had looked while asleep, he didn't even notice when he landed on her balcony.

Chat gave his surroundings a startled glance and was about to turn back around when Marinette poked her head outside.

"Chat Noir?" She asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

He blinked at her, his brain whirring furiously trying to come up with an excuse. "Oh! I...um saw the Ladyblog! That was one amazing blanket you made there, Marinette." He said, hoping desperately that Alya had in fact, uploaded the pics onto the Ladyblog.

Marinette's face softened as she invited him inside. Something inside him said he shouldn't but Chat couldn't resist. He followed her in and sat on her chaise, reminding himself to act as though he hadn't seen the blanket in person before.

Marinette carried out the blanket and deposited it in his arms. "Here, take a good look at it."

He couldn't tell the softness through his gloves, but the workmanship on the blanket was exquisite. "This is incredible, Marinette. You're amazing."

She flushed pink at his words but gave him a beatific smile. "Thank you for making it in my honor," he added. He put the blanket on the chaise before taking one of her hands in his and kneeling before her.

"Princess, this lowly tomcat thanks you for caring so deeply about him. I...this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." He blinked up at her gratefully, only to see Marinette's smile fall.

"Oh, Kitty. You deserve the world," she told him, making his smile broaden.

"You're a true friend, Marinette. I'm lucky to have you." He gave her a hand a soft kiss, before straightening. Her lips parted and cheeks flushed, she looked absolutely stunning. Tucking away a loose strand of her hair, he leaned in just close enough for her breath to hitch, before pulling away.

"I should get going, Princess," he said instead, turning to leave. As she stammered out a goodbye, Chat allowed himself a smirk. He was planning on taking things slowly, to ensure he would win his Princess's heart.

Seeing her just now had helped him realize something and he was nothing if not a persistent kitty.

[sassyhobbits]

....tinder au??🥺 not to rush u ofc! but i’m having a rough time in school right now and an update would really make my week better🤍

you sent this ask at just the right time! i just finished it up! sorry for the lack of writing. school is also giving me a rough time rn as well! but!!! we will persevere!!!

also im a little buzzed so i hope this is coherent

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

~~~

Rowan didn’t really enjoy dressing up, could go his entire life without attending another large, social gathering. And yet… he had let Aelin convince him to take her to a wedding.

He had forced himself into his nicest suit because Aelin told him to. He sensed that this was something he didn’t want to argue with her about, so he did it with minimal complaint. He figured that it wouldn’t be that bad in the grand scheme of things, and the open bar was certainly a perk.

Not to mention, Aedion would be there well. In fact, Rowan was on his way to his coworkers apartment where he would meet up with the rest of them before heading to the wedding. Apparently, Aedion got roped in as well. His and Aelin’s family were old friends with the groom’s family.

Rowan checked his watch as he climbed the stairs, ensuring he wasn’t late lest he give Aelin a reason to be cross with him. It seemed he was making good time.

Rowan knocked politely, the door swinging open quickly and revealing a surprisingly well-dressed Aedion, who was nursing a bottle of beer.

“Hey man,” he said, clasping forearms with Rowan. “How’re you doing? You want a beer?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Rowan stepped into the apartment, lingering in the living room as Aedion slipped into the kitchen. The room was decorated simply, but it was clean. His eyes caught on a few old photographs, picturing what must have been a young Aedion and Aelin together, smiling smiles too large for their little faces.

Aedion reappeared, handing him the beer.

“I can’t believe Aelin conned you into this,” Aedion commented, leaning against the back of the couch. “But, I gotta say, I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Is the company there gonna be that bad?”

“Yes. But I also know Aelin’s doing this to piss off her ex. And I was never a big fan of him. I think it’s going to be funny.” Aedion finished off his beer, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall with a sigh. “Those girls are gonna make us late. Lys! Are you nearly done?”

“You can’t rush perfection!” Lysandra’s voice called from upstairs.  

Aedion shook his head fondly with a playful chuckle, clearly used to waiting on the girls.

They chatted casually until Rowan was finished with his beer. It was then that a door opened from upstairs, followed by feminine laughter and the clicking of heels.

Lysandra descended first, looking perfectly elegant in an emerald slip dress that brought out the green in her eyes. She tossed her raven hair over her shoulder as she caught Aedion’s eye, sending him a bright and loving smile.

Rowan barely heard the two of them complimenting one another, all thoughts flying from his head at the sight of the woman walking down the stairs.

Aelin looked stunning, though Rowan knew stunning wasn’t really strong enough of a word to describe her in this instance.

She wore a golden silk dress that hit just above the knee. The conservativeness of the length was offset by the way it hugged each and every curve, as if it had been sewn on to her body specifically. Thin straps held it over her shoulders, leaving her toned arms bare. Aelin’s hair had been straightened and left hanging freely in a gleaming sheet down her back. It was then that Rowan realized how rarely he got to see her with her hair down. When Aelin was working or working out, it was always tossed up in a bun or a ponytail. It suited her. She wore a necklace, and it wasn’t until she got closer that Rowan was able to see that the pendant was a golden sword. It was strangely fitting.

She was slipping something into her clutch, barely even noticing Rowan until she nearly walked through him. Her eyes snapped up, the stunning turquoise color brought out by her eyeshadow look. Her gaze traveled from his feet to the top of his head, assessing and nothing more.

“You clean up better than I expected,” Aelin said simply.

Rowan wished he had something witty up his sleeve, but seeing Aelin in that dress had left his mind in shambles. He was only able to grind out a curt, “Thanks.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, leaving Rowan to wonder what was going through her head. Before he had much more time to ponder it, she swept away, grabbing a jacket by the door.

“So, is everyone ready?” she asked.

“In case you didn’t notice,” Aedion drawled. “We were all waiting for you two.”

Aelin ignored the tiny quip, smoothing down the sides of her dress. “Well then, let's get going. We have a wedding to attend.”

…

The ride to the venue was uneventful. Aelin sat in the back besides Rowan while Aedion drove them all. The car was filled with friendly chatter back and forth, pop music droning on in the background.

Aelin tried to stop herself from sending sly glances towards Rowan. He looked good tonight. Really good. Rowan was hot on a day to day basis, something that not even his drab PT uniform could hide. But tonight, all cleaned up and dressed in something nice, Rowan was unfairly handsome.

Her only solace was knowing that he was checking her out too. Aelin knew she looked amazing tonight. Part of it was for herself, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that part of it was to gain Rowan’s attention. She had been successful in that endeavor.

Aelin wasn’t stupid. She knew Rowan found her attractive just as Rowan knew she found him attractive. They had been ready to go out and probably bang until they realized that they were coworkers. Aelin had agreed to keep it professional, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t want something more with him.

Soon enough, Aedion was parking the car outside the venue. They filed out, Aelin smoothing and straightening her dress, a sort of heaviness in her gut as she looked towards where the ceremony would be held. Although she was excited to see Dorian, and happy that he had found love, she was less than excited about seeing Chaol again.

The scent of pine and snow surrounded her just as Rowan came up to her side.

“You ready?” Aelin asked him, to which he gave a stiff nod. “Good. Don’t embarrass me.”

Rowan scowled, but held out his arm for her regardless. Aelin took it, stepping close to his side, trying to ignore how nice the warmth of his body felt against her own.

It was time to get this over with.

…

The ceremony was simple yet beautiful. Any idiot could see how in love Dorian and Sorscha were with one another. Aelin had only met the bride on a few occasions, but she liked her. Sorscha looked stunning in a flowy gown that made her brown skin glow.

Aelin pointedly ignored Chaol even though he stood right by Dorian the entire time. Instead, she looked at the maid of honor, Yrene, who her ex was now dating. Through talking to Dorian, Aelin had learned that Chaol and Yrene had met through Sorscha. Apparently, the two women worked at the same hospital and were close friends.

Yrene was a beautiful woman with kind eyes. Aelin knew in her gut that she would like her once they got to talking. Perhaps they would find time to chat through the night.

The ceremony ended with a sweet kiss and the happy couple going off to take some photographs. For the guests, it was time to cocktail.

Rowan, at least, was playing the part of a boyfriend well. Without complaint, surprisingly. He held her hand as they went towards where cocktail hour was being held, a steady presence. He even chatted with her, asking her questions about how she knew Dorian. When she whispered snide comments about other guests, he even laughed a few times. It was… nice, she supposed. She was having a good time with him.

Lysandra and Aedion were swept up by Dorian’s parents, leaving Aelin and Rowan by themselves.

The more they drank, the more comfortable they became. It was easier to laugh, easier to forget why they had put distance between them to begin with. They had been pretty good at avoiding conversation with others to begin with, but Aelin knew it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths with someone.

“So what do we say if someone asks how we met?” Rowan asked as they grabbed another drink from the bar.

“We tell them the truth,” Aelin deadpanned. “Sexting on tinder.”

Rowan choked on his whiskey. “We cannot say that.”

“Fine. We can be boring and say we met at work.”

Rowan laughed, and Aelin realized how much she loved the sound. She liked how it softened his normally stony face, made him appear younger, lighter. She could get used to seeing him like this.

They turned from the bar, taking a few steps into the crowd, only to come face to face with the reason Aelin had dragged Rowan along to begin with.

“Aelin,” Chaol Westfall greeted, offering a shaking and awkward smile. “Hi.”

The smile that had been painted on Aelin’s face faltered slightly. She had been enjoying her time with Rowan so much she had forgotten why she had wanted him by her side to begin with.

“Chaol,” Aelin said, smiling tightly. “It’s good to see you again.”

Yrene was on his arm, looking stunning in a deep purple dress, curly hair loose and voluminous. Her honey eyes were bright and kind as she smiled at Aelin.

“You too,” Chaol said, before motioning towards the woman beside him. “This is Yrene. My girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yrene greeted, reaching out and shaking her hand. “I love your dress.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking at your shoes all night.” Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder, pressing herself to his side. “This is Rowan.”

Aelin watched carefully as they all shook hands and greeted one another, carefully studying facial expressions and body language. She had wondered if this would be awkward and tense but… it was normal.

Aelin and Chaol had ended on terrible terms, treating one another like actual shit. She remembered the insults thrown, the glares when they happened to be in the same room. But maybe… maybe they had gotten better. Maybe some time and distance had eased away the worst of the anger and toxicity. She didn’t look at Chaol and feel bad anymore she felt… nothing.

But she could tell that Chaol had Yrene and he cared very much about her.

And Aelin had…

Well, she didn’t really have anyone but…

She looked to Rowan, and for once didn’t try to avoid the longing that swelled in her chest. She wished she had him.

…

Aelin sat down at her table, sipping at a glass of champagne and watching the people on the dancefloor sway slowly to the soft music playing.

The rest of the evening had gone by smoothly. Aelin enjoyed the time she spent with her friends, getting to see Dorian again even though she couldn’t steal much of his time. All and all, it had been fun.

The night was winding down, people filtering out slowly, but there were still those who lingered for a few more dances. Dorian danced with his new wife, both looking at one another with so much love Aelin could feel it from where she sat. Lysandra smiled and laughed and Aedion twirled her around. Chaol held Yrene to his chest as they swayed slowly, lost in their own world.

Aelin sighed and rested her chin on her palm, watching them all move.

There was the sound of footfalls coming her way, stealing her attention from the dance floor. She looked up and found Rowan standing before her, looking to where her gaze was just focused but glancing back at her with a raised brow.

“Do you want to dance?”

Aelin blinked in surprise, sure she had heard him incorrectly. Rowan didn’t seem like the type of man who enjoyed dancing but… the offer hung there.

“You don’t have to,” Aelin said softly. “You did your part.”

“I can tell you want to dance. So, let’s dance. It’s almost time to go anyway.”

Aelin hesitated a beat, studying Rowan’s expression carefully. She didn’t want him to do anything he was uncomfortable with, yet his face showed nothing but sincerity. Rowan held out a hand towards her, brow raised as if to say Well? Are you coming?

A hesitant smile found its way onto Aelin’s face, but she accepted his hand, letting him guide her to her feet. Rowan led her to the center of the dance floor, placing a polite hand on her hip, the other clutching her own. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Aelin could have sworn time stopped. Maybe she had imagined it, but she was almost sure she saw a flash of the same longing she felt in his eyes.

They began to sway slowly to the music. It was a little awkward at first, but as time passed and the notes rang out, the tension lessened. They moved closer and closer to one another, until to a stranger they might have actually appeared to be a regular couple. It felt more natural than Aelin expected it to.

As the songs played, they kept sending one another shy smiles. Aelin wasn’t sure at what point she rested her head against Rowan’s chest as they danced, but she never wanted that moment to end.

It was a shame that the reception was inching to a close, that the night of being close to Rowan would end. It was a shame that, come the morning, they would go back to being strangers once more.

But, for tonight, Aelin was content to pretend.

[ewritesthangs]

The Big Day

Today, was the day. Corpse and you were getting married. You woke up bright and early, but not before Corpse. He left you a rose with a note beside the bed. 

'I'll see you later. I'll be the guy at the alter. 🖤' 

Starting the day off with an even bigger smile than before. You received a text from your maid of honor, your mom, your dad, Sean. All basically saying they're excited to see you guys get married. You just chuckle and get ready for the day. First was nails. Then hair and makeup. Then to the venue. You put on a shirt that said "Bride", some jeans and your converse. You drive to breakfast first, since the nail salon wasn't open yet. The wedding was at 1. It was 945. Your appointment was at 1030 for nails. Breakfast was only some muffins and coffee. Iced, for you. You guys get there early, so they take you in early. You get acrylics. (See picture above) this took over an hour. By the time you finished, you had about 15 minutes to go to your next appointment. Which was only a few minutes away. 

"Were gonna be late!" 

"I'll call and tell them that I might be late. Don't worry Y/BFF/N." you did as you said, calling to make sure it would be okay if they were a little late just in case you guys were. 

"Of course love! You are my only client today. I want to see you guys get married. Uh-duh." You laugh. 

"Thank you so much. I'll make sure you get a nice tip."

"Just give me some extra cake." 

"You've got that too." You hang up and head over there.

CORPSE POV  

I awoke earlier than my wife to leave her a cute note with a rose. I leave her with a sweet kiss to her forehead before actually leaving for the day. Our day. Our wedding day. I was spending the day with Sean, Felix, Sykkuno, and some other friends of mine. Today was going to be a great day, though I am super anxious. I take some of my meds to help. The guys pick me up and bring me to go to breakfast first. At my favorite spot. 

"Soooo, are you nervous? Excited?" 

"Yes." I chuckle and order some food. "I'm nervous something might go wrong. But i'm excited to marry the love of my life." 

"Awww our Corpsey is growing up." Felix says feigning choked up. 

"Yeah, I really am. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with Y/N." 

"So sappy. I love it." Sean chimes in. We eat once the food arrives and converse about anything and everything. 

"Where are you guys going for your honeymoon?" 

"Welllll were going to...." I tell them where. (Keeping it a surprise to you guys still.) 

"She is going to love it!" 

We then head to the venue to get ready. 

Back to 2ND PERSON POV 

You were finished up with your hair and makeup. You looked breathtakingly beautiful. Your mom chokes up. 

"My baby girl. Getting married." 

"Mom you're gonna me cry." You fan your eyes and hug her. 

"Lets get to the venue and get you dressed. Thankfully the venue is right around the corner." She chuckles. You guys head there. 

Upon arrival, you see many people already there. You were nervous, yet excited to marry Corpse. You get out of the car and go in, making sure no man sees you. You wanted to capture the moment your father sees you and your husband, of course. You go into a room of the barn there. You get dressed with the help of your best friend. Them and everyone tear up. At how breathtaking you look. 

"I said I wouldn't cry but crap here we go." Your best friend says, fanning their eyes. You laugh, tearing up yourself. 

"Guys I'm gonna cry!" You fan yourself. "God today is so emotional. I knew it would be." 

"It's almost time guys!" Your mom yells, excited. She goes out and sits down. Your best friend goes out and waits for her turn. Your dad comes in and stops, his breath hitching. 

"My baby girl. Getting married. To a wonderful man. Im so happy for you. You're so beautiful." He lets a few tears fall as he takes you into his arms. A Thousand Years by The Piano Guys starts to play. Signalling its time. Time to walk down the aisle to your future. 

"Don't let me fall, daddy." You whisper, holding onto his arm. You take a deep breath. 

"Never my love." You guys begin your ascend. You walk from the barn, to the aisle. Corpse sees you and instantly his eyes fill with tears. You were the only girl in the world, in that moment. Your own breath hitches at the sight of your future husband. You slowly walk to your Corpsey. He holds his hand out for you. Your dad lifts your veil and kisses you gently on the cheek. 

“Who gives this young lady to this young man?” The wedding officiant says. 

“I do.” Your father says, voice breaking. Corpse takes your hand and you hand off your flowers to your best friend so you can hold his other hand. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Corpse and Y/N. If anybody has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace. Thank the Lord nobody said anything.” That comment causes everyone to laugh. “The bride and groom have written their vows. Corpse, your first.”

“Y/N, when we met I knew we would be at least friends forever. When you said yes to dating me, I knew we were in for the long run. I had grown to have strong feelings for you. And they keep growing for you every second of every day. The love I have for you is unmatched. I never knew I could love anyone as much as I do you. You have shown me I am loveable, I am enough, I can conquer anything. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible. You really do complete me. You have made me a better man. And I am eternally grateful for you being in my life. Now here we are. On our wedding day, granted I started writing this when you said yes to marrying me, you look beyond breathtaking. You standing in front of me ready to say I do, I hope.I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives and beyond together. I promise to uplift you, to love you forever and beyond, to be there for you, to cherish you, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer. Together we can do anything. I love you, Y/N Y/M/N.” By the end of the vows’ you were in tears, happy tears but still. You were thankful for good setting spray and waterproof makeup. Corpse’s voice had waived during the duration of his vows’. “Oh baby.” He wipes your tears from your cheeks, trying so hard not to kiss your supple lips. 

“That was beautiful, holy crap. Any dry eyes up in here? No? I didn’t think so!” You chuckle. 

“Y/N, are you okay to say your vows?” The officiant says. 

“Yes. I’ve got this.” You take a deep breath before taking out your vows. “Corpse. My love. I knew from the moment I met you, we would forever be in each others lives. When I began to catch feelings for you, you asked me out. With great relief, I said yes. He likes me too! I knew from that moment on, we would get married someday. And I had a feeling that if the feeling was mutual, you’d pick Halloween as our wedding date.” You chuckle and sniffle a little. “My love for you only grows stronger as the seconds pass. I can’t imagine, nor will I, a life without you. You make me the happiest every moment of every day. I promise to love you until the end of time and beyond. I promise to be there for you, to love you no matter what happens in life. I promise to let you stream peacefully. I promise to have and to hold you in every way possible. I promise everything. I do I do I do. With all of my heart and soul, I do!” You wipe your tears and smile at your Corpse. 

“Beautiful! Now who is ready to put them rings on?” The officiant chimes. “Corpse, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold? For richer or for poorer? In sickness and in health from this day forward?” 

His face broke out in the biggest grin. “I do.” He slides on your ring. 

“And do you, Y/N, take Corpse to be your lawfully wedded husband? You heard me say that stuff for him right? I don’t have to repeat?” He causes everybody to laugh again. “To have and to hold? For richer or for poorer? In sickness and in health from this day forward?” 

“Hell yes I do!” You slip his ring on with the biggest grin matching Corpses. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! Corpse, kiss your bride.” 

“With pleasure.” He takes your cheeks in his hands and he kisses you passionately. Sparks and butterflies fly around. And you pull him in closer by his waist. Everyone cheers for you. 

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. H/L/N!” He pulls back only slightly before pecking your lips then holding your hands up. 

“We’re married!” He cheers. You giggle and cheer as well. Your best friend hands you your flowers. You walk back down the aisle, a married woman. 

--------

Decorations flow in the light breeze of the autumnal afternoon. Laughter and conversations warm up the reception before the bride and groom enter. The final click of the camera notifies you that it was time to go to the reception. You hold onto Corpse's arm, walking into the reception once announced. You guys had planned on doing the first dance right away, to get it out of the way for both of you don't dance the best. You guys practiced a slow dance though, the whole time you guys were engaged. I'll Follow You by Shinedown begins to play. You and Corpse go to straight to the dance floor. Your arms wrap around his neck loosely and his arms wrap around your waist. 

If I could find assurance to leave you behind 

I know my better half would fade 

And all my doubts 

Is a staircase for you 

Up and out of this base 

The first step is the one you believe in 

The second one might be profound 

Eyes lock. Love emits. Kisses pressed to your lips. 

I'll follow you down to the eye of the storm 

Don't worry I'll keep you warm 

I'll follow you down 

While we're passing through space 

I don't care if we fall from grace 

I'll follow you down 

Twirls. Corpse twirls you a few times and pulls you close once again. 

You can have the money and the world

The angels and the pearls

Even trade my heart for color blue

Just like the tower we never built

And the shadow of all the guilt

When the other hand was pointing at you

Yet the first step is the one you believe in

The second one might be profound

You look at your husband with nothing but pure love and joy. He truly makes you the happiest. 

I'll follow you down to the eye of the storm

Don't worry I'll keep you warm

I'll follow you down while we are passing through space

I don't care if we fall from grace

You are picked up by your husband and spun around a few times. 

I'll follow you down to where forever lies

Without a doubt I'm on your side

There is no where else I'd rather be

I'm not about to compromise

Give you up to say goodbye

I've got you through the deep

I'll keep you close to me

I'll follow you down to the eye of the storm

Don't worry I'll keep you warm

I'll follow you down

While we are passing through space

I don't care if we fall from grace

I'll follow you

If I could find assurance

To leave you behind

I know my better would fade

I'll follow you down

Corpse pulls you in for a sweet kiss. Dips you down. You squeal, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He chuckles at your response and pulls you back up. "I love you so much Mrs. H/L/N." 

"I love you just as much, maybe more." 

----------

Later that night, as the reception is winding down, you find your husband with his streaming buddies laughing away. 

"Honey, it's almost time." You softly remind your husband. You knew you guys had a flight soon for the reception was almost finished. 

"Okay baby, let's go get dressed." His voice, though always raspy, was soft and sweet. He pressed a kiss to your temple. You just smile up at him and press a kiss to his jaw. Back to the changing rooms of the barn, you guys venture off to. You change into a cute little white dress, while Corpse changes into a button up shirt and some jeans. You guys meet back up, your veil still on. 

"My beautiful wife." Emphasis on the wife. "I'll never tire of calling you my wife." His smile was unbreakable. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, still unaware of where he was taking you for your honeymoon. 

"Hmmm. Where is somewhere you have always wanted to go?"  

"Bora bora?" 

"Yes baby." 

"What! How?!" 

"Thank Sean for helping. It was part of his gift." He winks and chuckles. You jump up into his arms and hug him tightly. Perfect way to end the perfect day. 

Tag list: @teenloves @whatinthyworld @deadangelbride @teamragnarssons @lovely-ki