#cufflinks verse

[samkerrworshipper]

Begging for you to write something involving Sammy concealing a strap plsss 😘🫶

based off of her most recent pics from the esquire cover….

i know we all want another chapter of 2s a company, 3s a crowd and i promise it’s on the way just taking longer than planned !

warnings: insinuations of smut

———————————————————————

Sam looked utterly delectable.

It wasn’t often that you were able to sit in on her photoshoots, or interviews, scheduling conflicts always seemed to arise.

It was a sacred opportunity, a little special sweet moment that you were more than happy to experience from the sidelines. It was rare that you got to sit on the sidelines, got to appreciate Sam in this kind of way, so you were more than happy to be someone in the background as they got her dolled up.

You could hardly contain yourself when she walked out of the dressing rooms in the first suit, a classic black suit with a crisp white shirt. You almost choked on the air, blinking rapidly as you took it all in.

“You likey chick?”

You weren’t even sure what to say to that, did dogs bark? Was the sky blue?

“Feeling cocky are we Ms Kerr?”

Sam smirked at your, a big fat grin covering her flawlessly makeup covered face, it was rare to see Sam so made up, you loved her in all of her forms, sweaty after games, bed hair in the mornings, but this made you feel things, things you weren’t exactly proud of.

She walked towards you, extending the sleeves of her shirt and two cufflinks. You took the two pieces of cold metal in your palms, before gently taking her hand in yours and beginning to secure the cufflinks.

“Cocky, baby? You wound me, good looking, beautiful and stunning yes, but definitely not cocky.”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, smiling lightly as you continued to work on the starched sleeve.

“Add humble to the list.”

Sam snickered a little bit, your banter was her favourite part of your relationship, you both knew how to have fun, but you also knew where the line was between jokes and going too far.

“Soo, do you like the outfit?”

Sam sounded almost bashful, the previous confidence had faded from her voice, she sounded more raw and hopeful.

You looked up from Sam’s sleeve, again taken aback at just how breathtakingly good she looked.

“Sammy, baby, you look absolutely perfect, the picture of beauty.”

She preened a little bit with your praise, whether she wanted to admit it or not, nobody's opinion mattered to hers beside yours, you were the only person in the world that’s thoughts of her she truly valued.

“Good, now sit here like my good little wag and I’ll give you a reward once we’re done, I’ve got a surprise for you waiting.”

Your whole body shivered as Sam leant down to your ear to whisper the words directly into your ear. You could hardly think with her in that suit, but her in that suit plus the insinuation that she had something planned for once you were done was enough to send off fireworks from your core to your spine.

She pressed a little peck to your jaw before standing herself up, righting her clothes and then walking towards the photographers, leaving you ultimately high and dry.

Sam had done enough photoshoots to know exactly what she was doing, how to pose, how to act, how to smile. It was magical watching her at work, a different kind of work that you were used to.

Dating Sam Kerr ultimately included a lot of pitch-side watching, it was extremely rare that you were ever able to see her engage in this kind of work, you valued all kinds of her work, but this was especially perfect.

It didn’t take her long to get it done, she was well versed in the media and the photographers were extremely happy to let her take the lead and do whatever she was comfortable with.

You just sat on the side, she looked ethereal in your eyes, a figure of perfection.

When she was all wrapped up you were more than happy to follow her into her changeroom to enjoy some peace before you were dragged off to whatever else she had planned for the day.

Sam sat down on the couch in the corner of the room, already beginning to unbutton her shirt loosen the bun that her hair was in.

“Come over here honey.”

Sam pointed to her lap, you were more than happy to oblige her request and walk towards her, setting yourself down across her lap.

“M’ so proud of you, that was incredible.”

Sam smiled at you, pressing a little nudge of a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you baby, I think it’s time I give you your surprise hmm? You’ve waited long enough.”

Sam’s hands came down to your hips, tugging you further down her lap.

It took you a few seconds to adjust to the new feeling, and once you did your jaw dropped slightly.

You nudged yourself around just a little bit, making sure that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, but from further investigation your jaw only dropped further, your mind going dangerous places as the cogs ticked in your brain.

“D-Did-were you wearing that the whole time?”

Sam’s sardonic smile was enough of an answer for you.

“Mm, your favourite one.”

You struggled to contain a moan, as your ass relaxed against the feeling of the hard silicone pressing directly against your muscles.

“Samantha May.”

Sam nudged her hips up against yours, half thrusting the appendage further into your clothed ass cheeks.

“What?”

You bit down on your lip.

“You seriously wore a fucking strap during a serious shoot, what if you’d gotten caught?”

Sam just chuckled, her hands snaking their way around your waist and gently resting on your hip bones.

“Twitter probably would have gone crazy.”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s effortless excuse, the humour coming to her tongue concerningly easily.

“You're teasing me Samantha.”

Your voice is matter of fact, calm, cool, collected, it’s nothing like what your body is feeling with a dildo pressed directly into you.

Sam leant up to your ear, her breath tickling against your neck.

“Well then, how about I get changed then and we head home, hmm? Or you could just save the horse now and ride your favourite cowgirl.”

It took every part of your self control to not hike your skirt up in that moment and reach down for Sam’s fly, but you had some self preservation, and enough common sense to know that it was not a smart decision to start something here that you couldn’t finish.

“Hurry up and get changed then, before I change my mind.”

Sam practically shoved you beside her on the couch, springing out of her seat and beginning to quickly remove all of her clothes.

You averted eye contact on purpose, you knew that if your eyes came into contact with the strap then you were a complete goner, self preservation or not.

Once Sam was changed and stripped of all the makeup you were more than happy to have her lead you out to the car, with a promise of a good time when you finally made it back to your apartment.

[rcubens]

Southern Hospitality

TASK 2— A Eulogy by Reuben Sharpe

So he had finally found a tie. Did it fit with his outfit? He wasn’t exactly sure and with the compounding weight of a White Russian hangover and an impending funeral, he couldn't care less. He was grateful that Angus had given him a heads up about the eulogy, he spent the entirety of his night restless staring at the ceiling of his second childhood bedroom trying to string a cohesive sentence together. Nothing sounded right, it was either too sappy, or too vindictive, or too guilt ridden. As Mrs. Tristan read out the order of proceedings to the small group he almost asked if he could be excused; the cue card in his jacket pocket burning a hole in his side.

Reuben wasn’t well versed in funerals— something he used to be grateful for but, currently regretted. The whole weekend had been an exercise in time-travel. The same rooms, the same halls, the same bickering and same ridiculous thing they called a family. And to Reuben it seemed as though nothing had changed. He wanted to remain there forever. Sell his DC condo, quit his job and just roll out of bed and into the kitchen where breakfast was already prepared. Walk around the grounds, drink the wine cellar dry, bother all of his siblings daily. In DC, he was an island— well, there was Angus but, still he was alone. A solo office, a one bedroom off Columbia, an only child.

Hyperaware of his own presence and looking to the other wards for guidance, like he was thirteen again. This time he walks through the cemetery without his mother by his side, but rather, in his breast pocket. He needed her strength today, thinking about her for the first time in a long time. Today, he might very well be orphaned. There are too many people here for his liking, people he doesn’t recognize. Rich philanthropists, local politicians and other old geezers that probably knew Richard back when his dad did. Red rimmed eyes dart around, maybe his aunt was here. Or perhaps she moved her practice back to Georgia, or maybe she was dead. Maybe Reuben was orphaned long before Richard left.

As he sat listening to the other eulogies, he’s fidgeting with his father’s cufflinks. The smooth gold beneath his fingers reminds him of his father. He’d know how to do this. How to wrap your venom in niceties, Southern hospitality or some bullshit. Before he knows it, someone is nudging him and motioning him to stand. Suddenly, his attention seeking efforts don’t feel so brave. It’s like that reoccurring dream you have when you’re walking down the hall of your high school stark naked and everyone’s laughing at you. His cheeks are hot, and he’s trying not cry, to not deceive these people into thinking he cares.

He stands at the pulpit, hands gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles are white. He can’t look out at this crowd and say the things he wants to say. He looks down at the worn wood as he slips his notes out of his pocket. Looking up for a beat through blond curls at Mrs. Tristan, her face says Reuben is on very thin ice…or maybe that’s what mourning looks like on someone who did all the work and received none of the credit.

He stands a little taller and takes a deep breath. “For those of you who may not know me, I’m Reuben Sharpe— my father was Senator Benedict Sharpe and my mother is Evangeline Louise Marston Sharpe, and after the death of my father I was brought here to Woodrow House.” He pauses to chew the inside of his cheek, which is raw from all the nerves of the past 48 hours.

“Richard Woodrow was not a good father—” a wave of anxious energy floods every vein in his body. But no one rushes to silence him or chalks it up to Reuben just being Reuben. Fortunately for him, there’s a captive audience. “A good father loves unconditionally— there’s no favouritism for the smartest, or the ones who could charm the birds out the trees or the one’s that mirror those he’s lost. No, a good father is there for them all, not his money or the people he hires to stand in but, the man himself.”

While it feels like an opportune moment to cry, Reuben feels the absence of feeling at all. Like he was slowly floating upwards like a rogue balloon that escaped the hands of a small child.

“But I don’t blame Mr.Woodrow, he wanted to do the right thing— shit, we all do. It’s not like they write a manual on how to raise 16 kids at once. He did the best he could and delegated all the harder tasks to Mrs. Tristan, whom I don’t think likes me very much right now but that’s nothing new—” he smiles sheepishly, mostly to himself.

“I spoke to Mr.Woodrow last week and said some things I don’t exactly regret but ,would take back if I knew it was the last time I’d ever see him. If I got to speak to him one last time, I think I’d say something along the lines of: thank you for being the next best thing. You did your best, and now I think I understand.”

Whatever tension he’d been holding had rapidly dissipated. If he didn’t get horizontal quickly, he might pass out. He raps his notes against the pulpit before stepping down and walking out of the ceremony.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

uggghhh Bruce!!! pretend!verse is killing me - what happens next?? does R lay into Bruce? what is Bruce harboring in his little scrungly heart?? does he accidentally confess to Alfred in a panic?

"Well you look dashing, Sir," Alfred said dryly.

"I have a date," Bruce said, face heating. "I don't think I'll be late-"

"I don't see why not," Alfred snorted, "If you're going to make this rabbit brained scheme work-"

"Alfred."

"Master Bruce," he sighed, "You don't really think-"

"It's the best way," he said shrugging. "She can clear her name. I'll play the bad guy who lead her into-"

"And when her next romantic partner won't let her near you what the-"

"Then I'll be a reformed rake and make sure I name drop you instead."

Alfred huffed and smacked his hand lightly away from the case of cufflinks, selecting a pair that went better, "This is preposterous."

"No more preposterous than what people are saying about her," he said softly, guilt twisting in his stomach uncomfortably.

"How was she?" he asked.

"Heartbroken," Bruce answered, smiling sadly. "I'd never seen her so ... hollow." The memory of you laying in your bed, too exhausted to sob, hardly able to do more than whimper as tears ran down your face.

"Bruce-"

"I feel like I ruined her life," he sighed. "If-" He broke off and shook his head. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to kiss you in public and know that it was just for show. Not because-

Alfred picked up the right hand that hung limp at his side and fixed his cufflink in place, "Shall I arrange a room for Miss Y/N?" he asked.

"Not tonight," he sighed. "We just need to be seen somewhere. So i thought we'd hit a casino. I'll drink a little too much and lose some money-"

"Ah," Alfred snorted, "groundwork then."

"If you wanna sell a story you gotta leave the breadcrumbs."

"And after you've made yourself look like an ass-"

"Batman has work to do."

"A veritable hat trick of bad decisions, Sir," he said, fixing his other cufflink.

[f1uckinghell]

curtain call - a Virtues Verse oneshot

here is a Riley-centric oneshot I wrote as a gift for the lovely @thatsapodium <3

—🎶—

Riley couldn’t spot his family in the crowd, but just knowing they were there filled his heart with an excited, deep warmth. Dad, beaming in the suit he had bought just for this, Mom in the same navy dress that was always brought out for festive occasions. Grandma Sophie, Grandma Grace and Grandpa Joe, excitedly taking photos. His siblings and packlings, dressed up like he rarely ever saw them. Isabel and Leah with little Clara, who was looking adorable in her dress. Carlos and Lando were there, too, of course, and Papa, and Pierre. And Maman, whose eyes were shiny and whose smile was fierce and proud when he cupped Riley’s cheeks in his hands and told him, „I knew you would make it one day.“

„Three more minutes,“ Benoit, the conductor of the orchestra, said behind him, startling Riley away from the curtain.

„Okay.“ Riley exhaled slowly and smoothed down his dress.

Ben watched him with a thoughtful smile. „You will be amazing.“

„What are you doing up here?“ Riley asked quickly, trying to will himself out of blushing.

„I wanted to come see you,“ Ben replied, fixing his cufflinks, „For good luck.“

Now, Riley was definitely blushing. „Oh. Thank you.“ He didn’t know why, but he added, „My whole family is here today.“

Ben gave him a sympathetic grin. „Ah. Nervous?“

„A little bit,“ Riley admitted, shifting on his feet. The black dress he was wearing had a high neckline and felt like a hug. „Aren’t you?“

Ben gave a very french shrug. „Yes,“ he said, „Everytime.“

That was oddly comforting, because Benoit was a literal musical genius, one of the youngest conductors ever to work with this particular orchestra. He was a beta from France, in his early thirties, supremely talented and very handsome with thick dark hair, blue eyes and glasses.

Riley and him had been flirting for the past few months.

A low gong sound counted down the last few moments before the start of the concert.

„I mean it, Riley,“ Benoit said quickly, taking an urgent step forward, reaching for Riley’s hands. Ben’s hands were warm and strong around Riley’s when he squeezed them. „You are amazing. You will do amazing.“

Riley let out a breathless „Thank you!“ while his entire body felt like it was spinning.

Ben let go of his hands and gave Riley one last lopsided smile. „Bonne chance!“

„Bonne chance!“ Riley echoed, and then, quickly before he could change his mind, „Wait!“

He took two steps forward and kissed Ben on the cheek. „For good luck.“

Ben let out an adorable, surprised noise, half-stopping in his tracks, but Riley ushered him away, giggling. „You have to go! Quick!“

„I have to go!“ Ben repeated, a big, happy smile spreading on his face, „Yes. I have to- I’ll see you later!“

„Yes!“ Riley watched as Ben almost tripped over his own feet when he hurried towards the stage entrance. His heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, and he felt like he could do anything right now.

„Ladies, Gentlemen and esteemed others,“ the voice of the concert hall’s director sounded through the thick curtains as the crowd quieted down, „Welcome to Young Talents night at the Royal Concert Hall.“

Riley took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The concert went perfectly.

Riley had to blink away tears in his eyes when the crowd cheered and clapped for them. Nothing could ever rival this feeling.

Well, maybe something could: the sight of his family in the foyer, Dad carrying a massive bouquet of flowers.

Jasper was the first to spot him. „Riley!“ he exclaimed, and ran at him, throwing his arms around him. He had grown a lot, and catching him forced a little „oof“ out of Riley. Nevertheless, he hugged his little brother tightly, and Jasper squeezed him back, going on and on.

„You sang so beautifully and you look so pretty and Dad cried but he pretended he didn’t-“

This meant so much more than any compliment from any professional he had received while making his way through the crowd.

His family descended upon him with hugs and kisses and compliments. Dad hugged him for a long time. Riley enjoyed being covered in Dad’s comforting, familiar scent. When they let go, there were proud tears in Dad’s eyes again that he wiped away with the back of his work-worn hand. „I’m so fucking proud of you.“

„Dad,“ Isabel scolded jokingly, covering Clara’s ears.

„Some occasions warrant foul language,“ Leah said, and threw her arms around Riley, pulling him into the next hug.

Several minutes passed until everyone had hugged him and told him how proud they were of him.

„Um, Riley, I think someone is here to see you,“ Luna said behind him when Riley was just in the process of getting squeezed by Grandma Sophie. When he turned, he saw Benoit standing there on the edge of his family circle, looking politely handsome with a glint in his eye.

„I just came to congratulate you briefly on your outstanding performance,“ he said.

Riley felt his already wide smile widen. He could tell his entire family was curiously watching them now.

„Thank you,“ he said as gracefully as he could; he knew Ben could tell he wanted to say much more. Do much more. „Congratulations on yours as well.“

So formal. A cheeky little grin tugged on the corner of Ben’s mouth. „Thank you so much.“

There was a slight pause, then Riley remembered to introduce Ben. He gestured behind himself awkwardly, „This is my… my whole family. …this is Benoit, the conductor.“ When he half-turned, he saw Maman’s knowing grin.

Grandpa Joe leaned over from behind Riley, holding out his hand to shake Ben’s. „Incredible work, young man.“

„Thank you so much,“ Ben replied, shaking Grandpa’s hand. „Lovely to meet Riley’s family.“

„You have cool glasses,“ Jasper said from where he was wrapped around Mom.

„Thanks!“ Ben grinned, „So do you.“

Jasper looked very satisfied with the compliment. „We’re going to have sushi now, because that’s Riley’s favorite.“

„Nice,“ Ben grinned, „That’s good to know.“ He gave Jasper a little wink. „Hope you enjoy your dinner.“

Jasper beamed up at him.

Riley felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

„I’ll see you saturday?“

„Yes,“ Ben said, turning his attention back to him with a warm smile. „See you saturday.“

„Okay,“ Riley said quietly, trying not to completely lose it over Ben in front of his family.

„Enjoy your sushi,“ Ben told him, giving a formal, modest little bow before disappearing into the crowd.

It took his siblings exactly two seconds after Ben was gone to start making kissy noises.

Some things never changed.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

Evelynn doesn't typically carry a heavy breath. Nor a worry.

Yet as she glances over the text messages from Robin's sibling once more, something unsettles in her stomach. The vivid memory of her cradling him in her arms, hardly able to contain such violent anger, as he whimpered and uttered what his family said. Claws hesitate, only for a second, at the handle to his office door before she presses on. A picture perfect smile, faux; as presented to the public -- gentle for all but a moment.

"Darling," a poignant pause, golden eyes piercing the room. "Are you just about to wrap up?"

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── MODERN VERSE

" ─ Oh, hold on babe, Miss Evelynn is here. Yes yes, I love you and I'll be home soon, bye bye." The low toned beep signalled just as soon as she pressed open the door, his form at the side of his desk, having just walked over from the large window open to the busy city below. The record player spun out slow jazz, the volume low enough to let the sound become one with the room's very existence, like it was always meant to be there. Robin set his phone down onto his desk and swirled to rest against it with a swift adjustment to his cufflinks, the colored buttons mirroring the gem that hung from his ear.

"Sorry about that, Miss Evelynn! Danny was asking me what I wanted to do for dinner - I didn't even really hear you approach! Aha," He seemed a bit too peppy to notice the nervous ticks his demonic companion was exhibiting, or perhaps he did see it; but was simply chosing not to comment upon it. "Oh! Yes, I am, I've already discussed the shipment with Abel for the next two days, so I was able to finish up early today. More time to spend with the soon to be Mr. Baudelaire-Johnson, I'm sure you know how that is with Miss Akali - we really are just two moonstruck fools, at the end of the day." He spun on his feel once more to pull the chain of his lamp and click his briefcase shut, an elegant motion that brought him back to facing her.

"Are you heading out as well? Allow me to escort you to your vehicle, or...if you would like, we can take a brief walk together? You seem...troubled, I know that look of yours all too well," he purred while striding over to her, his verdant eyes flicking up and down her form with a snarky little chuff of laughter, "Honestly, did you think that would fool me? After all the time we've known eachother, I'm almost hurt by it - " his fingers lift to the corners of her mouth and turn it downward, his lips matching for only a moment as he pulls the touch away and rests his hand upon her shoulder, "Come now, Miss Evelynn, what is troubling you? I would be happy to help you, name it and it shall be done. Orrrrr you could let me decide how to do it, even more weight off of your shoulders, my dear!"

[luxmaeastra]

//old verse//

He remembered Spring, he remembered finding some kinship with her and her sister. After...after he hadn't seen her since.

He stared at the cufflinks on his wrists, he swallowed the sigh, the urge to scream.

"Make us proud A -"

He was trying but this world didn't make sense. He'd lived in it longer than he had with them but it still made him stumble. Show emotion but not too much. Show dominance but do not kill. Be charming but don't break hearts.

His eyes landed on her again, the smell of jasmine in this garden was making him nauseous. He resisted the urge to burn it to ground - that a bad thing.

"You shouldn't have remembered me Sarai."

He envied her, envied she could embody her name. Envied that she knew exactly who she was.

He hated that her family loved her enough to kill for her. Had his?

His adopted one?

Would his parents have had they -

He looked away, curling his hand through the thorns. The dull pain quelled his rage. It was bad to want to break her wasn't it?

To want to kiss her and keep her.

He'd wreck her and she'd never recover from it.

So why did he still stand -

He snapped his head to her, his rage spiraling high enough to loosen his tongue. The marks on his back twinged but the pain was just an echo now.

"Don't call me that."

She didn't cower, so she wasn't the wallflower he remembered her to be. Or maybe she knew he was more afraid of her than she'd ever be of him.

Maybe she knew she held all the cards. She stepped toward him, smelling like fresh air and new beginnings.

Would valuting himself off this balcony be enough to finally kill him?

"So what do you want me to call you Nightling if not your name?"

"Armand."

He licked his lips, taking in what felt like the first breath since he'd been sent to this nightmare.

"Call me Armand Sarai."

//AHHHHH//

He changed from the boy she had met in Spring, from the young male who would spend his time with her and Thesan. He never seemed to shy away from them as some of the others did, he seemed content to hold a conversation without expecting more. Even if there were the odd comments, the things he must have observed which she had to hide. She had to fulfil the role, she had to be what was expected. Maybe if she did, if she was the docile and gentle princess she would be allowed to return to their parents.

It had been a motivator, it had been what she had worked so hard in maintaining the facade he saw. But his dedication to the friendship throughout her time there was why she had looked back that day her father came, why she had asked Helion and Endymion about him. The boy who had been her friend, the one who had been close to her.

The lack of information had been heartbreaking, but she had moved on the best she could. Until now, until he was standing before her. So changed, different from how she remembered, but it was still him. Still him, yet he was hurt. She could see that when she said the name, when his emotions laced around his words.

As he stood there she could see so much conflict in him, she could see him warring between things she didn’t know or understand at that time. Part of her was certain she would not have stopped him if he had lashed out to take what was his, if he had kissed and claimed her. Yet she also was certain he would not harm her, she was certain whatever darkness lay in him would not wrap around her or shackle her. No, his darkness was something of beauty which was a part of him.

Sarai’s expression softened when he spoke, when he finally gave her the name he wanted her to use. Armand. She smiled as she looked down, nodding slightly as she composed herself to speak. Did he know how often he had entered her dreams in the recent years? Especially as she became older, especially as she grew watched as her own siblings seemed to find what they needed…wanted.

Did he know how him just saying her name made her stomach twist with butterflies? Or how she felt that when he looked at her, he saw more truly for who she was than what others saw?

“Armand.” His name came with ease as she tried it out. It was beautiful as it was suitable, it fitted him so much more than the name she had known him for. It felt true, it felt as if he was allowing her in slightly. “And how can I forget you? You were my dearest friend in Spring, you even made friends with Thesan, which means a lot to me…You were never forgotten, even when I was brought home. I always had hope we would one day cross paths again.”

[sweetbunpura]

Parents’ Day

The day Crowley had announced that NRC would have a parents’ day, the students just knew nothing good would come of it. Yet the day had arrived and everyone was waiting in the mirror chamber for their parents to arrive to show them around.

J.J.

J.J. sighed as the parents started coming in through the mirror, this would be his parents’ third year visiting NRC and he hoped they would just skip this year. But that flew out of the window as he watched a large man with black hair and horns and a small woman with blue hair and curled smaller horns step through the mirror. The woman looked around before spotting her son leaning against one of the pillars in the room.

“J.J.!” She yelled, waving her hand with a smile on her face, red eyes shining in excitement. 

Amber Tulgey was a small woman, but anyone who knew her long enough knew that really lied under the surface. She was wearing a large red shirt with long sleeves that went over her hands and a pair of white pants and black boots. Her pointed ears each had a set of 3 piercings in them. Her silver horns stood out greatly against her blue hair.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Pops.”

The large man behind Amber, Colt Tulgey, easily towered over his son. The Brewer had muscles for days and his short black hair was slicked back. The man reeked of sandalwood, beer, and leather. His short sleeved white shirt was almost straining against his muscles, he had a chain connected to his black pants. His dark gray horns blended in perfectly to his black hair. His black eyes stared down at his son.

“Last year at NRC, huh?” Colt’s voice was deep as he spoke.

“Yep.” J.J. got off of the pillar. “Don’t know why you came given you’ve been here before.”

“It’s your last year and we wanted to see how you were doing. You hardly call.” Amber pouted.

“Sorry.” J.J. rubbed the back of his head. “Things have been kinda... interesting around here.”

“Interesting how?”

“Just interesting.”

Amber frowned but didn’t press the issue. “So how’s school?”

“It’s been boring.” J.J. lead his parents out of the mirror room along with several others whose parents had already arrived.

“How’s the dorm?” His father asked. 

“Strict as usual.” J.J. glanced over to Riddle as he talked with his mother. “We should steer clear of the dorm head for now. I don’t wanna get into it with his mother.”

Goliath and Rascal

Rascal rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for his parents, he knew they had to come farther inland to reach the portal with the help of the same potion that allowed him and Goliath to stay on land. Goliath stood next to him, arms crossed and eyes focused on the mirror. Eventually, a man and woman stepped through the mirror. The man’s blue hair was tied back in a manbun and a few strands of hair were in front of his face. The woman, by stark contrast, was roughly a head or two taller than the man. Her platinum hair was long, wavy, and flowed freely down her back.

“Oh there they are!” The woman spoke as she pointed at the brothers, smiling with rows of sharp teeth. “Boys!”

Gloria Gallucci was a tall woman, her whale shark genes had followed her into her human form. Freckles decorated her face in small batches while her red eyes showed nothing but her gentle nature. She wore a beautiful floor length satin dark blue dress and black heels. She also wore a pearl necklace and earrings.

“Hey, ma.”

“Hello, Mother.”

Ike Gallucci was a built man, courtesy of his great white genes with a nasty scar going down his cheek and disappearing under the collar of his buttoned shirt. The man wore a black pinstripe suit and a pair of nice dress shoes.For running a shipping company, Ike was well versed in human fashion. He adjusted his cufflinks before joining his wife.

“Hello, boys.”

“S’up, old man.”

“Father.”

Ike sighed. “Rascal, I told you about calling me that. I’m your father.”

“Sorry dad.” Rascal said, cheekily.

Their mother pulled them both in for a hug, nearly crushing her boys.

“How are my sons?”

“Doin’ great, Ma.” Rascal wheezed out.

“Honey, we need our sons alive.” Ike spoke with a chuckle as he watched both of his sons struggle to get out of Gloria’s hold.

“Sorry, sorry.” She let them go and smiled. “I haven’t seen you boys in a long time.”

Goliath cleared his throat and fixed his uniform while Rascal tried to blink his eyesight back to normal.

“Let’s show you around or perhaps Rascal should do that.”

“I don’t know this place as well as you do!”

Evan

“Evan darling!”

“Hello, Mother. Hello, Mom.”

Indigo and Willow Montgomery were a married Beastman and Fae duo fashion designers hailing from Port Jubilee. Indigo was a Jaguar beastman, her wavy black hair was loose with a few decorative hair pins pushing back the loose strands that would move into her face. She wore a fancy knee length, shoulderless, red dress with dark red heels. Indigo also stood a few feet taller than her wife. 

Willow was a dark skinned butterfly fairy; her very long mauve hair flowed freely behind and was almost hovering behind her. There were a number of different colors and species of butterflies surrounding her hair. She had a number of watercolor tattoos decorating her arms and up her neck. She wore a very baggy white sweater with part of it hanging off her shoulder and a pair of ripped black pants along with a pair of black heels.

Willow ran up to Evan and pulled him in for a big hug. “Hi honey!” She kissed his cheek and smiled. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good.” Evan returned the smile and the hug. “How has work been?”

“It’s been wonderful. Indigo made a new line and you have to model it for us.”

“I’d be more than happy to.”

“I will admit, I am surprised to see you back at NRC.” Indigo spoke. “You are your boyfriend-”

“Ex-boyfriend, Mother.”

Indigo gave a smile and Evan wondered what she knew that he didn’t. “Whatever you say, Darling. You and your EX-boyfriend seem to be the only 4th years on campus. Is there a reason you came back?”

“My tour ended and I missed NRC. All the classes I’ve had finished up,  I’ve had quite a bit of free time to think and plan what I wish to continue with.” Evan only half lied.

Indigo stared hard at her son, ears flicking in the process as if she was thinking about something. “Come. Let’s explore the campus for the final time.” She turned on her heel and began to walk out of the mirror chamber.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Coming!”

Xavier

“Lad!”

“Hey dad.”

Jax Soria was a tone man decked out head to toe in leather, jacket and pants wise. His orange hair was messy and unkempt with a few black hair clips in it to keep the worse of it out of his face.  He wore various chain necklaces that varied in length, some of them went over the deep v-neck yellow shirt he wore. Jax had a few knuckle tattoos decorating his hands as well. Jax pulled Xavier into a bear hug and ruffled his hair.

“Where’s Pa?”

“Right here.”

Jax and Xavier watched as a lithe man stepped through the portal. Javier Soria was dressed in a white button down shirt and a dark green vest with a pair of equally dark green pants. A chain connected from his pants to his wallet in his back pocket. His violet hair was tied back in a high ponytail. Javier also wore a set of vintage black oval glasses.

Xavier pulled himself free and went over to hug his other father, who returned the hug with a smile.

“Good to see you again, Xav.”

“Could Lukas not make it?”

“No, he’s busy with other things.”

“Babe.” Javier and Xavier looked over to where Jax was pointing out of the room. “Let’s go see how much NRC has changed since we’ve been here. Xav, lead the way and tell us about everything!” Jax all but rushed out of the room, leaving his husband and son in the dust.

“Dad, wait!”

“Jax!”

Rouge

Most of the students in the chamber had already left leaving just a handful of students waiting for their parents or parents adjacent. Rouge sighed and leaned back against one of the pillar;  their boyfriend, Ruggie, had already left with his grandma a while ago and left the fennec fox beastman to wait it out for their uncle.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Miles Willow was a tall and lanky fennec fox beastman. His short tan colored hair blended in perfectly to his tan colored ears. He was slouched over, hiding his true height in the process. He wore a checkered gray button up that was open with a black shirt underneath and burnt holes on his dusty looking jeans. Rouge stared at their uncle with an unimpressed look. Miles raises his arms in defense.

“Hey, I showed up this year-”

“Only because Crowley said there would be free food.”

“C’mon now, you think so little of your dear ol’ uncle.”

“You’re right-”

“Thank-”

“You put on a clean shirt this time.”

“You are by far the sassy kid I have ever raised.”

“I’m the only one you ever raised.”

Miles rolled his eyes and the pair left the chamber. “How’s school?”

“Just great.”

“Did you finally ask that, who was it, the hyena out?”

“Ruggie? Yeah.”

“Proud of ya.”

“Thanks.”

Night

“Night, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

Night shyly waved his hand at his parents as they approached him. Daisy and Quincy Alexander were simple human farmers, having raised Night when they had found him in their field one night. Daisy was muscular and wore a green tank top with her red flannel shirt tied around her waist, her torn jeans were tucked into her boots. She had a strawhat on top of her short green hair  Quincy was built as well and wore a pair of oil stained overalls and a yellow and white shirt on. His lavender hair was messy and unkempt with bits of straw in them.

“Permission to hug you, Squash?” His mother opened her arms and waited patiently for an answer.

“Permission granted.” Night opened his arms and his mother went to hug him and spin him around.

“How ‘ave things been?” Quincy asked as Daisy set Night down.

“It’s been good, school is going great. This year has just been a bit more hectic than most.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“Just a lot of stuff. You know how NRC is.”

“So.” Daisy tilted her head. “Things haven’t been quiet?”

“It’s never quiet here, but anyway. I want to show you around the botanical garden, I’ve been gardening as of late.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Relationships with parents:

J.J. - Has a good relationship with his parents although he often butt heads with his dad.

Rascal and Goliath - Very good relationship with parents, Rascal is a mama’s boy.

Evan - Adores his mothers and sees them as role models, very good relationship with his parents.

Xavier - Good relationship with his parents, although he often wishes his parents wouldn’t act so embarrassing.

Rouge - the literal definition of “I found this kid in the wild and they’re mine now.” Has an okay relationship with their “uncle”

Night - bit of a strained relationship with his parents ever since they told him the truth of his birth, but he still loves them.

[angstmongertina]

WIP Wednesday Results/Sentences

Aaand the poll is over! Thank you to everyone who voted! I adore you and my muse hates you. :P

Accountability sentences (and copied/new fic premises) under the cut! Since not everything got a vote this time, I'll be skipping the ones that didn't get any votes.

Letters to Nadia – From a shared 7KPP ‘verse with @teaandinanity’s Valya where our characters’ kids decided they were in love with each other. (Supposed to be 1 sentence but shhhh it's fine.)

He shakes his head, regretting it a moment later when the world swirls precariously around him, but the image of Nadia, her face set in that perfectly polite smile he knows hides disapproval and genuine hurt, continues to swim before his eyes. Genuine hurt caused by him. Then again, that’s still better than the alternative. He can handle hurt. Hurt is better than fear. Or, at least, that’s what he’ll have to convince himself of.

forever i’m yours, forever i do – A retelling of Artem’s second anniversary card that started as just an attempt to write out the smut and that VERY MUCH grew out of control HELP (3 sentences, but I added an extra just 'cause.)

To distract himself, he glances to the side, where Jeremy is fidgeting with his cufflinks, but before he can do anything more than offer a sympathetic look, the music swells with the familiar strain of Pachelbel, and he stiffens, straightening as a sudden hush falls over the audience. He’s supposed to be watching Celestine. He knows this. He hears the crowd murmur as she steps into view, feels the sharp inhale from the man beside him as he lays eyes on his bride, and yet he barely even notices, because all he can see, all he knows, is her.

Homecoming – For the CoG story Teahouse of the Gods, because the A'Li romance was right up my alley. Continuing the angstier version. (1 sentence)

She’s the first one to break the sudden stillness, words falling out of her mouth before she can even think about them: “You haven’t changed.”

Oh Brother – Again from the shared 7KPP 'verse mentioned above, Thomas’ little sister’s version of what happened. (3 sentences turned into three paragraphs OH WELL)

“Doesn’t know everything about her either.” His voice is unusually soft, one might even say hesitant, and Iris turns to find him with an odd expression in his eyes, though the next moment, it’s hidden under his typical teasing grin. “Sorry, you’ll have to find another source of information for your gossip.” “Ugh, what good are you, then?” Aster grumbles, but there’s a satisfaction in their mannerism that means they’ve already achieved what they intended to. Though the jury is still out on whether or not it’s actually helpful.

Spiral Point – More 7KPP because the brainrot is real, but this time for Camyon’s childhood friends AU. Here is more of their first interaction at the Summit, when neither of them actually recognize the other. :D (1 sentence)

Those sharp dark eyes were still fixed on her, however, and she realized belatedly that she was staring. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

Dinghun Zhou – CinderLia! In an alternate universe in which there is no Summit, but there’s still an event to try and find a wife for the perpetually single Duke Lyon. (2 sentences)

She raised an eyebrow and the man gave a sheepish smile. “He did inform me I was not to return until I was certain I could bring back an acceptance from you.”

King's Gambit – Fic for Gilded Shadow I started ages ago and never finished. Because Lance's route sniped me REALLY hard. Ari? Saw that coming. Caissa? Not terribly surprising. But LANCE????? (3 sentences)

She was, as he had already identified, a star student, and her focus on her exam, her little oasis in the chaos swirling just outside of her visual range, made it relatively easy to monitor her well-being. Until suddenly it wasn’t. It all happened so quickly, he nearly missed it.

That Which Binds Us – Also an ooooold old fic, this time for Fire Emblem Awakening and Chrobin. Because I had Ideas about what was happening in the background of the first half of the game, but I am terrible at multichapter things. (2 sentences but I cheated one more time.)

The concern softened into faint amusement, though she kept her thoughts to herself as she smiled. “I was just wondering if that was all, but maybe we should just say it is. We need our leader focused and alert, after all.” He shook his head with a rueful grin.

Much cheating was done in terms of making things longer than requested, but hey, better that than shorter! Thank you if you read them all!

[kylo-wrecked]

“Can I not implore you to return?” (From the prohibition verse, human!Phasma)

Ren adjusted his cufflinks. They were square emeralds with an onyx trim, uncanny in their resemblance to the holocrons he still sought.

"Return?" he smiled. "Which one of us? Me or the other guy?"

He sauntered over to Phasma and leaned in as if she were about to give her a kiss—or a nip.

"Would you like to say hello?" Ren said softly. "To the man downstairs? While he's still at home?" 

The man whose vessel carried itself with the gait of a hellion stood before Phasma, assured of its artistry and might. The man whose spirit pleaded behind the snake eyes of his incarcerator.

"He won't be in for long."

[minaharkerdailymirror]

👫 Lestat

👫 Armand (you pick which version)

Armand: OG Verse:

Mina wears a wedding ring on her right hand to signify her bond with Armand. She gave him a weapon as a wedding gift since she gave Lestat her father's cufflinks

Armand keeps tabs on Mina and Lestat when they're away from the house. He's never forgotten he met them because hunters turned on Mina and brought her to them. He's also killed Dark Hunters trailing him and Mina when they're out and about without telling her and worrying her. He's told Lestat though.

LIl Armand:

3. Armand knows how to fix most of the equipment and vehicles on the bus/band

4. Armand was harder to win over than Mina was for romancing her , though he was quick to accept Lestat as a mentor and father figure otherwise because he's desperate for a healthy father figure

Lestat OG VErse

Lestat wears MIna's father's cufflinks to every play, party, opera, or concert they go to. He wears his fancier ones for every day

Lestat and Mina do discuss whether or not she'll take the dark gift at least once every few years. Someitmes she's for it, other times she's reluctant

Lil Aramnd Verse

When Mina gets with Rockstar Lestat and her identity is found out, no one believes she's actually Dracula's Mina Harker. But the Dracula book sales go up much to her annoyance.

Mina got Lestat a "I'm not the stepfather, I'm the father that stepped up" as a joke. He wore it on stage once she accepted him.

[hautevaux]

@gcldfanged asked: 😘 Seductive MEME: FASHION AND OUTFIT HEADCANONS. (Remember to specify character and/or verse if relevant. Feel free to give more context to the prompt when sending!)

If Vaux is aiming to seduce someone ere he heads out and thus chooses his outfit in advance, one can be certain that he'll choose something that complements his high-end lifestyle; well tailored clothing either made by his own hands or those closest to him. (He finds that most couture brand names simply fit too poorly, and if there was one thing he had learned over the years, the fit mattered more than the label.)

He'll aim for something casual, perfectly tailored, perfectly complementary - certain to have more than a few buttons undone to show the pale of his chest beneath; use makeup to draw eyes to his own, glittering jewellery to complement long fingers or slender wrists. Yes, Vaux is - as his job begs - a master at altering where someone's attention is drawn.

Lips, eyes, words; each a piece of his highly elaborate puzzle.

As for the outfit itself, he would likely err towards a white shirt, sleeves rolled up towards his elbow, cufflinks beautiful. He's wear a corseted waistcoat, likely in whites and pale pinks, well fitted trousers with subtle boots adorned with slight heels to elevate his height. He would wear silver earrings that would dangle just enough to suggest an elongated neck, a slim watch to accompany dainty chain bracelets and a single, plain ring. His hair would be worn in a loose curl, down.

And if he had intentions of taking a certain seductive company home, then he would make sure that the gape of his shirt revealed the slender poise of silk straps and lace beneath; just enough to set ones mind wandering.

[thegotogifts]

6 Unique Personalised Gifts For Him

Whether he is a self-proclaimed sportsman or a type-A career climber, finding luxury gifts for him is a task unmatched. It is no secret that men can be somewhat elusive gifting recipients - pretending not to be enthused with gifting occasions but secretly holding out to receive the crème de la crème of personalised gifts for him. Where standards are high and communication is lacklustre, gifting is a minefield but, luckily for you, it’s one we are well-versed in navigating. From milestone birthdays to bachelor send-offs, anniversaries to Father’s Day, read on for our ultimate guide to personalised gifts for him. There is no greater stress than the combination of an ever-looming occasion and an empty basket staring straight back at you. Restraining from panic buying a voucher or (god forbid) the dreaded experience gift that never gets taken up. Trawling page after page of generic gifts is quite possibly as anxiety inducing as it gets. Personalised gifts for him are the solution to all your gifting questions. For birthdays, discover handcrafted spirit decanters and personalised trinket boxes from the expert craftsmen at Linley or headwear redefined in Varsity’s elevated lifestyle and athletic caps. If it’s a stag do you’re gifting for, shop personalised travel bags for his honeymoon from My Style Bags, the home of iconic Italian travel accessories, or one-of-a-kind cufflinks from City Cufflinks for a sleek location memento. For anniversaries, arguably one of the most nuanced of gift-giving occasions, personalised ties from Masel Milano make iconic and memorable luxury gifts for him that he will carry with him for a lifetime. And, with Father’s Day fast approaching, it doesn’t get easier than a bespoke Monopoly board game from The Dice Guys to play into his competitive side and elevate family game night.

GIFTS FOR

Birthdays

It’s the eleventh hour. He has played off receiving a gift for the last two months and now it’s a week before and the nuanced hints are starting to filter in. And, boy, are they nuanced. Vague references to gifts his friends have received, random things he has seen online but for the life of him can’t recall the name of and subtle hints at luxury gifts for him. Desperate times call for answers beyond socks and cologne. Cue Linley. Founded in 1985, by David Linley, Princess Margaret’s son, this iconic British heritage brand is defined by bold design and age-old tradition. Champions of British craftsmanship, Linley pieces make timeless and thoughtful luxury gifts for him. Take your pick from their sleek range of decanters and Zodiac boxes and add their name or a special date for a unique present. Or, for already personalised gifts for him, choose his initial from the Linley Alphabet Boxes - an elevated home for their cigars and cufflinks, trinkets and treasures. How to find unique gifts for friends’ birthdays is the golden question. There’s the guy from the office who thinks you are best mates, the one that is on the cusp of acquaintance and friend and then there is your best friend - the bromance, the one you’re meant to know everything about but switches up what he’s into at the drop of a hat. Gift-giving for these men in your life is made easy with Varsity. Redefining the baseball cap, their timeless silhouettes are crafted from carefully researched materials with a meticulous focus on premium quality and the perfect fit. With innovative fabrics sourced from the world’s most luxurious (and sustainable) mills and a chic initial monogrammed on the cap buckle, finding the ultimate personalised gifts for friends has never been easier.

GIFTS FOR

Stag-Do's

Whether he was the first to bite the bullet or deemed to forever be a bachelor, his big day is looming ever closer and any thought of a gift is still eluding you. We’ve been there. We don’t like to compare but some might say finding gifts for a bachelorette is easy game in comparison to that of a stag do. Do you go the sincere route, play into the cheeky nature of the evening or call it a day and do a wedding present for the pair? Milanese sensibilities materialised, My Style Bags has gifts for whatever your gift-giving approach. An iconic Italian name, their curated collection of bespoke travel accessories is a refined collaboration between art and practicality. The ultimate destination for personalised gifts for friends, their bags are handcrafted in Italy and intricately embroidered with your recipient’s initial or name. If he is a self-proclaimed sportsman, their personalised tennis and padel racket cases made great unique gifts for friends with a competitive side. And, if you’re taking the easy way out with a couple’s gift (no judgement here), a pair of Harvard Travel Bags with their new surname make sleek personalised gifts for engagement do’s. If he’s a polished guy-on-the-go or making a move for his soon-to-be partner, a set of bespoke cufflinks from City Cufflinks are the perfect personalised gifts for friends. Featuring iconic landmarks from renowned cities like London, New York and Amsterdam set into sterling silver, they are a cool reminder of his roots and a chic addition to his wardrobe. Read Full Article: 6 Unique Personalised Gifts For Him

[mariequitecontrarie]

Best Person

Summary: When Ruby delivers a huge vase of red roses to Gold's office, he believes the romantic gesture is meant for Belle--his new fiancée! Little does he know, Regina and David are competing to stand up in the wedding on the groom’s side of the aisle. A/N: Silly shenanigans in the Cufflinks verse. Thanks to @galactic-pirates and @maplesyrupao3 for being wonderful!

On AO3

“Thirteen roses.” Ruby Lucas sailed into his office and plopped a huge vase of flowers smack in the center of his desk. Gold looked up from the presentation notes he was reviewing and frowned. “Miss Lucas, do you mind?” he asked, waving in Belle’s direction. She was perched in one of the guest chairs across from his desk, her head bent over her own set of notes.

Belle raised her chin, her eyes flashing with mirth. “Be nice,” she mouthed, then blew him a kiss. Her fingertips were stained with gloss from her lips and left little pink finger smudges on the papers in her other hand.

A flush crept up his neck while he thought about all the wonderful things that mouth and those hands had done to him last night. “I don’t mind at all.” Ruby was talking again, reminding him she was still watching. “My desk is in the neighborhood.” “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat and flicked his wrist, pointing toward the door again. Maybe she would take the hint and leave. “We’re working.”

Ruby flashed a sly smile. “I don’t remember a presentation slide about weekend plans with Belle and her parents.”

His attention settled on the flowers again—a heavy crystal vase stuffed with plump red roses. Dread began to churn in his stomach. “She has a point, Darach,” Belle said. “What?” Gold could see Belle’s mouth moving but he couldn’t focus.

A more pressing problem than Ruby’s nosiness had presented itself in the form of the vase occupying most of the outer portion of his desk. He leaned forward in his chair to glower at the stunning crimson blooms. They still had dew on them. How disgustingly cliché. He recognized the florist’s tag—the flowers had been ordered from her parents’ shop. He’d bought arrangements there many, many times over the last year. The person who had sent these knew quality. But he hadn’t arranged for flowers to be delivered to Belle today. Had he missed some important date? She wasn’t ill, it wasn’t her birthday, and if she’d been promoted he would have been the first to know. Which left Gold with only one question: who would dare send a romantic arrangement to Belle French? She was engaged. To him. Jealousy curdled in his belly. Granted, he had asked for Belle’s hand only a few weeks ago, but couldn’t they enjoy their engagement for five minutes before he had to fend off applications for replacement suitors? Did people even send wedding objections in the form of flowers? He’d never heard of such a thing, but he wasn’t up on the latest in social non-graces. Later, when Ruby Lucas wasn’t watching his every move like a cat tracking a ball of yarn, he would ask Belle. “Thirteen roses. Really?” Ever curious, Belle leaned forward to stroke one of the blood-red petals. “We all know what that means,” Ruby announced.

Before he could inform them that no, everyone did not know, they were hooting and shouting “secret admirer!” “Someone has quite a crush!” Belle whistled and beamed at him. Belle’s delight was an unpleasant surprise. He didn’t see anything funny or charming about this situation, yet here she was, less than flustered to be receiving a romantic overture three weeks after she’d agreed to be his wife. Perhaps he was oversensitive but her casual attitude stung a bit. And he intended to discuss it with her like an adult—if Ruby ever left the room. He clenched his jaw while he waited, but Ruby was oblivious to his tension. She leaned over the arrangement to inhale the blossoms.

“Mmmm.” Ruby’s face lit in an appreciative smile. “I wonder who sent them.” Belle gnawed her lower lip the way she always did when she was mulling something over and his heart fluttered in spite of himself. “There’s a card.” Ruby pointed out. Belle turned to him before she plucked the small white envelope from amongst the stems. “May I, darling?” “Valentine’s Day is over.” He reclined in his chair with a huff. “But please,” he said, pretending to be magnanimous. “I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your fun.” “Some people celebrate love all the time,” Ruby offered. “Or send arrangements just because. A person doesn’t need an excuse to send flowers.” “Thank you for your observation, Miss Lucas. I’m sure commercial gardeners and florists across the globe appreciate your concern for their economic welfare. Now then, don’t you have some work to do?” He would rather his insecurities over Belle’s secret admirer not be fodder for office gossip. “This weekend when we were all having dinner together I was Ruby. How quickly they forget.” She grinned at Belle like he was a small child who had said something clever. Gold sighed. As a rule, he’d never mixed business and pleasure with anyone except Belle. But Ruby was Belle’s best friend and getting along with her was important. At least he didn’t dislike her. Ruby was sharp, hardworking, and a wonderful support system for Belle. Plus, Regina was always after him to be more sociable with the team no matter how much he resisted. Time and again he’d told her people wanted a leader they could respect, not someone who would take them bowling and host a Jell-O shot contest.

Whatever the hell that was. He coughed. “Don’t you have some work to do, Ruby?” “All caught up, boss. I think you’re going to be very happy with the press turnout for the new juice bar tomorrow.” “Fantastic,” he muttered. Pitching to the media, not subtlety, was Ruby’s area of expertise. The two women leaned over the flowers with an identical, fanatical gleam in their eyes. What was it about females and plant life? Perhaps it was the same as it was with women and shoes—a veritable mystery to the male mind. He busied himself with stacking the papers on his desk and slapped them against the surface with more force than necessary. Belle opened the small white envelope and read the card. “They’re from David Nolan.” She squealed. “How sweet!” “Sweet?” Gold dropped the papers he was holding and stood. He grabbed for his cane, his fingers squeezing reflexively around the handle. In less than a second he had rounded the desk. Belle and Ruby both stared at him with wide eyes, but he had already slid way down the ladder of reason. “What the hell is Nolan doing sending flowers to my fiancée?” he bellowed. “He’s married! You’re engaged.” He’d thought David was his friend. Perhaps not a close friend, but an acquaintance at least. The bastard had crossed a line. No, the line was a million miles behind, back in hell, where he was going to send him. “Darling, stop,” Belle said. She gave his shoulder a loving squeeze. “You’re going to break your fingers.” He slid away from her touch and cursed. “No, I’m going to break his fingers. Or”—he crushed his palm against the head of his cane—“maybe I’ll start with something else first. Something he’ll need if he ever wants to father any children!”

Intent on his prey, he stalked to the office door. But Belle was quicker. She ducked under his arm and stood in the doorway. “Wait. Wait!” She shut the door. “Why should I?” He crossed his arms. She was the one who thought the flowers were sweet. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. “Those flowers aren’t for me, Darach.” Her smile was patient, understanding. “Who the hell are they for then?” “They’re for you, Gold,” Ruby said. “Why do you think I brought them to your office?”

“Hey, Gold! Wait up.” David Nolan chased him down the hallway and fell in step beside him.

He gave the cover of his pocket watch a meaningful glance. He was due in the conference room in five minutes and he abhorred lateness, especially when he was meeting a client.

“You get the flowers?” David asked.

“Yes.”

“Too much?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” David was walking fast to keep up, a white paper sack swinging between his fingers. “I knew red was the wrong color. “I should have gone with yellow, right? For friendship?”

He didn’t care, especially after the way he’d embarrassed himself this morning in front of Belle and Ruby. But Nolan looked so damned hurt by the brush-off he felt bad. He slowed his pace.

Gold imagined his future father-in-law trimming and watering his beauties in the cooler, one of his deep, rumbling belly laughs frosting the glass. Still, he found it hard to believe Maurice or Colette would commit such a faux pas as sending red roses from a married man to their daughter’s fiancé.

“Who answered the phone at the florist’s?” he asked.

“Anna,” David said, an expression of relief crossing his face. “I think she was new.”

He nodded. “Anna Bjorgman.”

“She didn’t give a last name.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Chattered and giggled so much you agreed to anything she suggested to get her off the line?”

David’s shrug was sheepish. “How’d you know?”

“That’s Anna. I met her at the Frenches’ house last week. She’s their new intern.”

In ten more steps, they were standing in front of the conference room where client James Midas was already waiting. David loomed in the doorway, barring Gold’s entrance. Blocking him from going places was becoming epidemic today. He would accept it from Belle, but not from this lummox.

“We’ve arrived at my destination,” he said, then tapped the floor with his cane, impatient.

“Right. Here.” Nolan thrust the paper bag at his chest.

Gold peeked inside. “It’s a blueberry bagel.”

“Your favorite, right?”

It was, but his breakfast of choice was beside the point. In the past few weeks, Nolan’s behavior had become increasingly strange. “What’s this all about, Nolan? First, you wash my car in the parking lot on your lunch hour, then you send flowers, now you’re following me around and buying me baked goods? This isn’t the way to ask for a raise.”

David huffed. “Why do you always assume anyone who talks to you or does something nice who isn’t Belle wants money?”

What else would they need from him? “Answer my question, Nolan.”

David shoved his hands in his pockets and took them out again. It was a nervous habit he fell back on whenever he was caught off-guard. “I just wondered if you’d given any thought yet to who would be your best man.” He toed the floor with his shoe. “You know, at the wedding.”  

Bewildered, Gold could only stare.

Last night, Belle told him wherever and whenever they tied the knot, Ruby would be her maid of honor. But he hadn’t given any thought to his attendants. Weddings were overpriced, overblown affairs. Whatever Belle wanted he would happily go along with but all he cared about was the honeymoon. Taking Belle on a tour of Europe and making love to her in as many cities as possible, now that was his idea of a party.

“I just proposed...Belle and I…it’s early to make plans,” he said, faltering.

Mary Margaret squeaked by to deliver Midas a mug of coffee, then nudged David on her way back down the corridor. She spoke to her husband out of the corner of her mouth. “Did you ask him yet?”

“Ask me what?” Just then, Midas met his eyes through the glass door and gave a little wave. Gold glanced at his watch again. “I’m late, Nolan. We’ll continue this conversation later…perhaps at a quarter to never.” He muttered the last words under his breath as he strode into the conference room.

“Midas, my apologies for keeping you waiting.” Gold set down the bag with the blueberry bagel to shake hands with one of the firm’s best and longest running clients.

“No trouble.” Midas stroked his golden beard. “Gave me time to think over my campaign, though if I didn’t know your distaste for politics I’d think I have competition in the race.”

Gold stopped nodding midstream. Midas was running for a state Senate position and the firm was assisting with public relations. “Competition?”

“I’d really like something like the billboard of you downtown.” Midas took an experimental sip of coffee.

Gold resisted the urge to loosen his collar. “What billboard?”

“‘What billboard’ he asks. Ha! You old dog!” Midas’ grin could have covered the broad side of a barn. “It’s the huge one in the center of town with your face and the slogan The Magic Man. Nice touch with the company logo. Tasteful design, too. Already offered my compliments to Regina.”

“Aha.” Gold flexed his fingers along the edge of the conference table, pretending for a fleeting moment it was Regina’s neck. “Regina’s talents are…without parallel.” As is her unmitigated gall, he wanted to add. As soon as this meeting was over, he was going to drive to the square and see this monstrosity for himself. Then he would have it torn down with a wrecking ball.

Midas nodded with enthusiasm, seeming to be unaware of the bite in Gold’s words. “If you could put together a plan and design samples featuring something along those lines. Electronic too, if you would. Cost is no object.”

“I’d be delighted.” Gold forced a smile. He would put the pricing together and then he would bludgeon Regina with the enormous vase of red roses occupying half the real estate on his desk.

While Midas continued to share his ideas, a noise in the corridor drew Gold’s attention. The genius in question was standing in the corridor next to David, her swelling voice and wild gestures indicating a heated argument. Regina bared her teeth in a hiss, her hands on her hips.

This was not good. “Would you excuse me a moment, Midas?”

He hurried into the corridor.

“This figures,” Regina was saying, her lip curled in a sneer. “I knew the minute I turned my back you’d pull something like this.” She glared at David then turned to Gold. “Charming as he is, he’s the wrong one for the job. It’s the twenty-first century. Who says the best man has to be an actual man, anyway?”

David crossed his arms. “I was the one who pushed him to go talk to Belle last New Year’s Eve.”

“And I’m the one who hired Belle in the first place!” Regina insisted. “It’s my company. That office of Gold’s they’re always pretending not to have sex in exists because of me. He should choose me to be his best person!”

David snorted. “You always have to be in charge of the party, don’t you, Regina?”

“I am the party!” Regina bellowed.

They continued to bicker and Gold begged the ceiling for patience. This is what came of making a marriage proposal in the workplace—a team of lunatics expecting to be involved in all aspects of the wedding. Was he going to have to clear honeymoon destinations with them, too? Perhaps they wanted to join them on the trip? Why not plan a company cruise while they were at it?

Tonight he would beg Belle to elope and marry him as soon as possible.

But Regina was poking David in the chest and before he whisked Belle to Las Vegas or a justice of the peace, he had to stop these two before they initiated a wrestling match in the middle of the hallway. Belle was so much better at dealing with people—preserving feelings, soothing ruffled feathers, breaking bad news to interfering idiots with such finesse they didn’t even know they’d been handled and shown the door.

He was about to text her for help when his phone buzzed with a message. It was Belle. He scanned the text then pocketed his phone with a weary sigh. “My office. Now.”

He ushered Regina and David inside and slammed his door with a snarl. “For fuck’s sake! This is insane.”

“Cursing is evidence of a lazy mind, Gold.” Regina wagged a finger at him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouted.

They both snapped their mouths shut and stared, two sets of eyes as wide as the blueberry bagel Nolan had given him. The few employees talking outside his door scurried out of sight. A hush blanketed the office and only the mild whirr of the copy machine broke the strained silence.

“Is this a place of business?” he asked them.

“Of course it’s a business,” Regina said. “My business.” She flashed a tight, red-lipped smile and elbowed David in the side. “Mine, mine, mine!” David parroted, rubbing his ribs.

“Very well, Your Majesty.” Gold offered her a mocking bow. “In between the two of you commissioning me new suits, buying Belle shares in a publishing house, and all these other outlandish gestures, can we all agree that my wedding and Belle’s is our business?”

More reluctant nods from Nolan. Regina rolled her eyes, but she allowed a single sharp nod to communicate her understanding.

“Good. Then as we’re running a marketing firm and not a wedding planning service, perhaps interviewing potential groomsmen—” he caught the narrowing of Regina’s eyes—“groomspeople, can wait?”

“Yes,” they grumbled in unison.

He plucked a file from his desk, intent on returning to the meeting with Midas. “Let’s get back to work.”

“It’s just…” Regina trailed off.

Dammit, he’d almost made it to freedom. “What?” He paused with his back to her, his hand hot on the doorknob.

“You’re my oldest friend,” she said softly.

Oh. He released the doorknob and turned to face them.

David was slouched against the edge of his desk, looking like a kicked puppy. “When you asked my advice about Belle at the New Year’s Eve party last year, I thought we’d become friends.”

Nolan had offered the advice unsolicited, but as it had worked in his favor and he’d won the girl, now didn’t seem like the best time to point it out.

Regina and David bowed their heads, reminding him of fighting children who’d been separated on the school playground. And guilt began to dislodge his anger.

He could hear Belle telling him as misguided as their behavior was, it didn’t give him the right to be cruel. Shit. Being in love was turning him into a decent human being.

“The truth is you’re the best person I know,” Regina said. “All I want…” David cut her off with a meaningful cough. “All we want,” Regina amended, “is for you to be happy.”

David’s grin was boyish. “That’s it exactly.”

All at once, the ridiculous billboard, the extravagant gifts, and all the attention they were paying him began to make sense. They were trying to be his friend.  

Fresh out of snappy retorts, he sucked on the inside of his cheek. Until Belle had opened her heart and offered him her love, no one had cared about his happiness. Suddenly, friendships were more than an abstract concept in his world, something he could sneer at and pretend he didn’t need. It seemed he had friends of his own, rather than people who accepted him because he was Belle’s tagalong. It was a bit overwhelming.

David looked to be moving in for a hug. Oh, dear God, he needed to leave before he hugged him back or burst into tears.

“We’ll discuss this later.” He threw the promise over his shoulder and bolted for the door. One small olive branch was the best he could do.

“So we can expect a decision about your best person by the end of the day, then?” Regina called to his retreating back.

He grunted as he rounded the corner and scuttled toward the conference room, reclaiming his chair at the table.

“Say, Gold,” Midas said. “Heard from David Nolan you’re getting married. Congratulations! Regina’s baking the wedding cake?”

Idiots. He smothered a smile. Something had to be done if he wanted even a moment’s peace. There was nothing for it, he supposed.

He would ask them both to be in the wedding.

###

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

Everything had to be perfect.

Not only because it was done by Evelynn herself, but because it was for Robin. And she'd stop nothing short of perfection for his birthday.

Perhaps she has grown a little too soft over the years. And yet she shoos such a thought aside to focus on much more important matters: his gift. After forgoing sleep the previous night to ensure it's arrival (much to the dismay of Akali, who likely tossed in turned in her absence).

The gift is simple, yet custom made from several countries over. In another time, long ago, they would have met around this area. Her hands carefully cradle the small box, afraid of her own destruction. Inside contains what seems to be a straightforward necklace; silver chained and accompanied with a singular gem and metal feather.

Sure, it may be cheesy, but often (as Evelynn has come to learn) it is the smaller things that makes a difference.

She waits until the day has passed, when he's been bombarded by everyone else, just as he did to her, to approach. Her lips curve into a gentle smile as she knocks at his apartment (and yes, knocks -- not barging in) door. The box is held clearly in her hand, and she's accompanied with a silly party hat (the band wouldn't let her leave without it). So when he opens the door, Evelynn's beaming and there's definitely pride that shines in her gaze.

"Happy birthday, Robin."

BIRTHDAY WISHES ═══ MODERN VERSE ═══

The assistant gazed at his reflection while Danny finished getting ready for their night out; his green eyes bright and well rested as he slicked his curls back. The lack of bangs framing his features brought a rather mature quality to his face, not old - but handsome rather than pretty. His gaze had now wandered down to his cufflinks and settled upon the beautiful ring adorning his finger, his lips curled back in a comfortable joy before he lifted his stare towards their bedroom. He half debated going back there and sweeping Danny into such a kiss they'd be sure to be late - although the knock caught his attention and he dropped the thought to answer the door.

He wasn't sure why his form tensed, why he didn't look out the peephole, and why his gaze turned into that of a waking, simmering hell; perhaps he had expected someone else to show up at his doorstep. Although that was quick to fall apart as he catches two sparkling eyes staring up at him, a strange softness in their metallic reflection of his own gaze. Robin noticed her smile next before wandering upwards to the cute party hat upon her head, a strangely innocent accessory for the type of woman she was.

'Happy birthday, Robin.'

His mind swiftly remarked the lack of voice messages left today, the lack of phonecalls from someone he might've once called mother and father, and somehow her words ignite his heart to bring warmth throughout his body. Why did it seem that around her and Danny his cheeks were always tinged pink with joy and an emotion he couldn't quite place...an emotion so outside of her palate for even Evelynn to consume. In one embarrassingly quick motion do his arms wrap around her form and pull her against his chest, one hand upon her back and the other cupping the back of her head as if she were his entire world; one he never wished to let go.

But he had to, and he does.

"Thank you--- good evening, Miss Evelynn, this is quite the surprise," but his tone held nothing but pure affection towards her as he is presented with the gift, "Ah....You didn't have to. But.." Robin chuckled as he began to unwrap it and when his eyes finally fall upon the jewelry he found a strange tug upon his heartstrings. Something beyond his time was calling to him, begging to be let out so it could embrace his boss. His hands tremble as he lifted the necklace towards the light, its sparkles brought a smile to his face, one filled with teeth as he quickly clipped the chain on the back of his neck.

It matched his attire quite well, the gems glistening the same beautiful shade of azure as the ones upon his ear; he reached up to caress the feather as he spoke once mroe, "Come come...We still have plenty of time before our reservation, I want to show Danny and talk with you a little while." And just like that his arm circled her waist to tug her close and pull her into the apartment; he had a new piece of daily jewelry now, he'd have to adjust his outfits around it.

[cass1x1]

where are all the angsty ship edits using joan baez's "diamonds and rust"

[minaharkerdailymirror]

👫

(Mina and Lestat)

👫

(Mina and Armand)

(Mina and Lestat)

It's not uncommon for Mina and Lestat to take some years long breaks from each other when they're hitting dry spells in their relationship. Lestat knows she isn't leaving him completely because she doesn't ask for her father's cufflinks back. Mina spends most of the time travelling and they write frequently

Mina's selective about her male partners. She gets what she needs emotionally and physically from Lestat most of the time but also worries about getting pregnant and the sort of complications THAT brings. She mostly prefers female companions.

Lestat goes with Mina during hunts against werewolves and other were-animals since it's a night hunt. Mina mentioned once that a hunting journal talked about a were-unicorn. both want to see what that looks like.

Mina uses her status and influence to find work and housing for the families of people that Lestat drains (Mina and Armand for Lestat verse)

Armand knows about Mina and follows her work closely. He isn't as disturbed as some are about her killing his kind. If they are drawing her attention, they're being obvious and calling attention to themselves, which risks breaking vampire law. He keeps her around because she makes things fascinating and could be an asset since she's chosen a vampire over hunters multiple times. Not trying to kill him is a big plus.

Mina however is very wary of Armand and won’t go into France for that reason. He invites (tries to lure) her frequently.

Mina has sent Dark Hunters to Theatre de Vampire. Armand is better at reading their mind than they are about blocking it. He uses them for the show.

Armand never thought much about Dracula and isn’t sorry he’s dead.

(Mina and Armand for adoption verse)

Everything thinks Mina's one of those crazy boy moms for how protective she is of her son.

Armand spends most of his time in the library Mina works at teaching himself different subjects.

When he becomes a vampire, Mina starts training him about hunting and how to protect himself against different hunting strategies.

Armand keeps good relationships with everyone at the nunnery, even as the years pass and he becomes a vampire. He makes frequent donations and arranges to help find children displaced by monsters homes.