#emerson barrett imagine

[the-world-is-spinning-round]

Cold - Emerson Barrett fan fiction (Spooktober Writing Challenge)

It was unseasonably cold, even for October.

Even as a vampire, and therefore usually impervious to temperature, Emerson was feeling the chill in the air. He stayed inside the house as much as possible, and tried to keep himself either in his bedroom or the family parlour, where there was always a fire roaring in the fireplace.

Sebastian and Remington were much the same - Sebastian remaining in bed with his newly-turned wife, and Remington skulking around wrapped in at least one blanket on top of his usual clothes.

Truth be told, it was an idea Emerson was about to steal for his own use.

He didn’t care about how many strange looks Remington received from the staff, or how many strange looks he would receive if he were to take up the same practice. It was almost unbearably cold - and only getting worse.

At night, more snow blanketed the ground. Each morning, there was a thicker layer of frost on the windows. Every time Emerson emerged from his bed, the air felt even more frigid.

It was miserable, and Emerson hated it.

Because on top of everything else, it was getting harder and harder to feed. No-one wanted to come to a party in this weather, and there was only so much four vampires could feed on the same household, even with multiple members of staff on hand to drink from - especially when one of those vampires was newly-turned and only watched over by her adoring husband, who would never, ever want to upset his wife.

Emerson was happy for Sebastian and Larissa, he truly was, but if they killed another maid or scullery boy…Emerson was going to be pissed.

And at a loss for how to explain a third mysterious death.

Two was more than enough, and most of the staff were already on edge from an unfortunate combination of fear and the cold - it wouldn’t take much to turn them into an angry mob, and prompt them to come after Emerson, Remington, Sebastian, and Larissa.

Of course, the four of them would likely be fine; there wasn’t a lot two dozen humans could do to four healthy vampires, but Emerson didn’t want to turn on the staff.

Or, perhaps more accurately, Emerson didn’t want to turn on a specific member of the staff.

“Good morning, Miss Francis.”

Miss Francis, Cora, one of the new maids, turned to Emerson with a polite smile: “Good morning, Mr Kropp.”

Emerson smiled as Cora crossed the room to where he was sitting in front of the fireplace with a silver tea tray balanced carefully in her hands.

Like most of the other women in the house, she had taken to wearing as many layers as possible - her nightdress under her summer uniform under her winter uniform, but despite the amount of clothing she was wearing, he was still hit with the scent of lemon soap, clean cotton, and something that was indescribably her.

It had taken him a while to not be stunned by Cora whenever she came into a room - not just because of her scent, but because of her…everything. His brothers may laugh at her inarticulateness, but Emerson didn’t care; he was stunned by everything about May, and he didn’t care what anyone had to say about it.

Or he wouldn’t, if he was actually brave enough to ever speak to anyone about his infatuation.

He wasn’t, and was sure he wouldn’t ever be, especially not to Cora herself. Despite what people may think of him - the artist, the eccentric, the addict - Emerson was not stupid: he was very aware of the power imbalance between himself and Cora: he was her employer, and a creature from her nightmares, and she was a young human who admitted herself that she didn’t have much of a life outside of her work.

Emerson might be what many people called a monster, but would never want to abuse his position of power over Cora, or put her in a situation where she was uncomfortable. He was a vampire, not a bastard.

“Would you like me to pour you some tea, Mr. Kropp?” Cora asked, putting the tea tray on the low table in front of the sofa he was sitting on.

“Yes, thank you Miss Francis.” 

Cora smiled, and busied herself with pouring a cup of tea for Emerson.

Emerson pretended to be absorbed by the book in his hands, but the whole time he watched Cora, fascinated with her every action, just as he always was.

Normally it was because he was just fascinated with her in general, but today he couldn’t help but see the faint trembling of her hands, the frighteningly pale ends of her fingers compared to their usual warm tone.

A second more inspection, and he saw the shivering racking her whole body, even with all her clothes, and the drawn expression that she was trying to hide under her usual polite smile.

Emerson had been thinking of how cold he was, even as a vampire who was somewhat immune to temperatures, but he hadn’t thought for a second how the humans in the house had been handling the sudden drop in temperatures - especially when they had no choice but to be away from the warmth of fires and extra blankets.

Guilt and shame brought a lump to his throat - and before he could even think he had opened his mouth and started speaking: “Would you join me for a cup, Miss Ferguson?”

Cora looked up: stunned: “Excuse me, Mr Kropp?”

“I asked if you would like to join me for some tea,” Emerson repeated, deciding that as he’d already potentially crossed a line, he may as well be clear about it…and equally clear that it was completely her choice: “And only if you want to, of course. Or you could take some tea with you. I just noticed that you appeared to be cold and thought some tea may serve to warm you. I don’t mean to be untoward, please do not think you must tread lightly here, if you do not want to join me then - ”

“I’d be very happy to have tea with you, Mr Kropp.” Cora gently interrupted, smiling.

Emerson, deciding that he’d spoken quite enough and certainly made a fool of himself, silently shifted over on the sofa to create some room for Cora as she made up a second cup of tea.

She sat next to him when he gestured to the space he’d created, and even with the distance between them, Emerson was painfully aware of the shivers still coursing through Cora’s body. He wanted to ignore it, sure that it would ease after a few moments of the fire and some tea…but he couldn’t.

“Would you…” he swallowed his nerves and stared down into his tea cup, finding himself unable to look at Cora as she looked at him: “...would you like a blanket?”

Cora was silent for a few seconds.

Emerson didn’t blame her; he was being strange. He knew he was being strange, but he…he didn’t know how he could help her without behaving oddly. It wasn’t normal for someone in his position to try and help someone in Cora’s position - but he couldn’t not try to help her.

He might appear strange. But he’d rather she think him mad and be warm than stick to status quo and leave her cold.

Eventually, Cora did reply, her voice soft and uncertain: “I would, thank you.” 

Desperate to end this awkwardness, Emerson hurried to wrap a blanket over Cora’s shoulders…and found himself with his arm (and the blanket) wrapped around her.

He knew instantly he should move away…but he didn’t…and neither did Cora.

They looked at each other for a few long moments, before Cora nervously turned back to her tea…and leaned into Emerson’s side.

A stronger man would have subtly leaned away: politely rejecting Cora and remembering his desire to not put Cora in an awkward situation, no matter how much he himself may enjoy that situation.

But Emerson was not a strong man.

Emerson genuinely did not want to make Cora uncomfortable, not in any way, but he couldn’t bring himself to reject her. He didn’t care if this was just an attempt on her part to warm herself up, he would take any form of affection she had to offer him, for however long she was willing to offer it.

And he’d enjoy every second.

[belle-keys]

— Musings on California

"The Secret History" by Donna Tartt // "Los Angeles" by SEULGI // "Chemtrails Over the Country Club" by Lana Del Rey // "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac" // "California" by Fred Emerson Brooks // HBO's "The Idol" // Bella Hadid and Marc Kalman // "tired of california" by Nessa Barrett // "California and the American Popular Imagination" by Sarah Schrank // "Picking Grapes 1937" by Wilma McDaniel // "Lolita" (1962) // "Malibu Rising" by Taylor Jenkins Reid // quote by Jonathan Culler // "Lust for Life" by Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd // "All My Rage" by Sabaa Tahir // "Escape from LA" by The Weeknd // "White Noise" by Don DeLillo // "Mujer Pájaro en la selva" by by Baja California artist Alejandra Phelts // random YouTube comment // "California Poem" by Johnny Cash

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Haunted by Kat Martin

Have you ever felt a chill in the air, visited a place and felt a presence, seen a ghost, wondered if some places might be evil magnets? I revisited past experiences and thought about some of these topics as I read about Jerome, Arizona and this novel set in this real historical town.

What I liked:

* Jenny Spencer: owner of Copper Star Saloon and Hotel, bartender, consultant, good friend, divorced, open-minded, caring, kind, responsible, rather attracted to Cain

* Cain Barratt: wealthy self-made man, raised by his grandmother-Nell, bad boy in HS, miner, footloose, ranch owner, bought & is refurbishing Grandview Hotel, attracted to Jenny * That the town is real and many of the historical anecdotes are set in fact

* The plot, setting, pacing, and writing

* The prologue that sets the stage for ghostly happenings later – and how they play out

* Wondering if the bad things happening to both Jenny and Cain are related or separate – then finding out what was really happening and who was/wasn’t behind it all

* Nell: Cain’s grandmother and inspiration to buy the hotel and her suggestion of Cleo as a person to help Jenny with the situation in room ten of her hotel

* Nick Faraday: ex-military, private investigator, intriguing and worthy of a book of his own

* The creep-factor and wondering how I would deal with some of the things that occurred in this book

* That all of the threads were tied up at the end – though not all in the story had a happy ending

* reading on the authors website that this is second of three books in a trilogy and trying to figure out how this book and Ghost Illusion are related other than that there are paranormal elements and historical events that might create hauntings

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how evil and ruthless some of the people were in this book – I can’t imagine doing some of the things that they did to humans or animals

Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

Thank you to the author, Kensington Books and NetGalley for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

BLURB

A captivating and twisting tale where a murder in 1898 and one in 2024 dovetail and connect in unexpected ways from New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin and perfect for readers of J.A. Jance, Tony Hillerman, and Ramona Emerson’s Shutter. 1898: Robbery, prostitution, and violence are commonplace in the fabulously rich copper mining city of Jerome, Arizona. But a brutal murder sets the stage for a series of strange events that will echo far into the future. 2024: Jenny Spencer’s Copper Star Saloon and Hotel is one of the best-loved attractions in the popular tourist destination, but eerie occurrences in the newly renovated wing are souring business. Cain Barrett, the wealthy owner of the nearby Grandview Hotel, has his eye on Jenny. He’ll help her any way he can, but Cain has problems of his own . . . A brutal murder at the Copper Star, entries in a dusty journal, and ghostly sightings at both hotels . . . is the connection a figment of Jenny’s imagination, or a threat to her life? And who is causing trouble for Cain? As they work together to solve the mystery, Cain vows not to let anything, or anyone—living or dead—stand between him and the woman he has come to love.

[a-and-mtrashpile]

Hello! Could I get a Remington Leith imagine? Either featuring them in quarantine or something involving their new song? Thank you so much!

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in a request!! I’ve been going crazy during this quarantine (I gave myself bangs and they actually turned out decent I’m gonna be dyeing my hair half orange half black if you guys want a picture when I finally get the dye and do it) but I hope you’re doing good during all this craziness!! Also, I wrote this on mobile at 2 in the morning so if it’s not good I’m blaming it on that

You laid in bed as Remington got ready to go over to his brothers house, singing along to the music he had playing from his speaker. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s just gonna be the Sebastian and Emerson with their girlfriends. Oh! And the puppy’s!” Remington said as he kept straightening his hair. “As much as I want to see the puppies I’ll probably stay here, I don’t want to brush my hair,” Remington chuckled as he put the straightener down and unplugged it, putting gel in his hair to get it just the right amount of spikey.

“I see how it is, don’t wanna spend any time with me,” Remington mumbled as he sat on the bed to put his shoes on. “Baby, we’ve spent almost every moment together since you got back. You literally followed me into the bathroom while I took a shit the other day.” “We were having a conversation!” You shook your head at your boyfriend as you sat up, motioning for him to hug you. “Tell everyone I said hi and that I miss them,” you said into his shoulder as he held you. “I will.”

He kissed the top of your head before grabbing his jacket and keys, shouting he’d be back in a bit as he walked towards the door to leave. “Be safe!” “I always am!”

After a while longer of laying in bed, you decided to get up and clean a little bit before starting to work on lunch/dinner. Honestly, you didn’t really know what meal it was, having finally eaten dinner at 2 in the morning the night before.

It didn’t take long to pick up, mainly just putting Remingtons clothes back in the closet or in the laundry basket. When you were about to start dinner, you got the notification that they went live. You chuckled when you got on and Remington was holding Pepper and ignoring his brothers, only looking up when he heard Emerson mention that you had joined.

“Hi babe!” Remington said as he used Peppers paw to wave. You type a hi into the chat then set you phone up so you could still watch but start getting dinner ready.

By the time you had everything cooking, the boys got off the live. Remington sent you a text saying his was on his way home and excited to get back to cuddling. Once you finally turned on some music you had decided it wasn’t loud enough so you grabbed Remington’s speaker from the bathroom. Once your phone was connected, you clicked shuffle again and went back to cooking.

An excited gasp escaped your mouth when their new song came on, you turning the speaker up as loud as it could go. You started singing along and dancing around the kitchen, the food now just waiting to be put on a plate. During your little concert you didn’t notice Remington come in and take off his shoes.

“Jesus Christ Remington! Don’t fucking scare me like that!” You shouted as laughed, no longer singing along. “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t help it,” he apologized as he walked over to you and put his arms around your waist. He helped you plate dinner, still singing along to the song coming through the speaker.

After the two of you finished dinner, Remington grabbed the plates and put them in the sink. Before you could suggest that you get them done he grabbed you and pulled you to the living room. He put on an old Elvis record then grabbed your hand and put his other on your hip. When you looked at him confused he chuckled, placing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re slow dancing you dummy,” he responded, chuckling again when the realization showed on your face.

You let him pull you close, loving every second of him holding you. “I love you so much Remmy,” you mumbled into him, placing a kiss where your face rested.

“As much as I love touring and meet the fans, I think being able to hold you every night and kiss you awake tops any feeling they could give me. I love you so fucking much (Y/N).”

[embermonstersworld]

Imagine: Your sister's boyfriend interducing you to his friend Emerson

Found the gif on Google

[written-on-the-trees]

Emerson Barrett Fan Fiction - Beautiful Things Come One Stitch At A Time

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers (or rather exes to still-exes-but-one-of-them-wants-to-get-back-together)

Word-count: 1825 words

Warnings: none

Description: Tia dumped Emerson because he wasn't good for her. She never expected to see him at work four years later - and now she doesn't know what to do.

Sequel to Not Enough Stitches To Put Us Back Together!

Tia sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

 This was not how she had wanted to spend her day.

 After getting fired, she’d started looking for jobs that would take her away from Las Vegas. It had only been a few months since she’d dumped her ex-boyfriend, Emerson, and it had seemed like the universe was telling her it had been time for a change. She’d applied for a few various positions, and ended up taking a job on Los Angeles, at Sumerian Records. At the time, Palaye Royale had been an unsigned band, and Tia had taken a job as a personal assistant in the record label’s legal department, figuring that even if Palaye Royale were signed to Sumerian, it was unlikely Tia would ever have any reason to deal with them.

 However, two very significant things had changed since she’d first started working for Sumerian.

 Firstly: she’d become a tour manager. Apparently she had an undiscovered talent for wrangling people and organisation. The last bit hadn’t really been undiscovered to her, but the people wrangling bit had been a pleasant surprise.

 Secondly - something that was a much less pleasant surprise - Palaye Royale got signed to Sumerian Records.

 Tia hadn’t been pleased. She’d gone straight to her boss, Kayley, and explained everything: that Emerson was an ex-boyfriend, that they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and that Sebastian and Remington despised her. Kayley had taken it in stride, and made notes in all the relevant places that Tia wasn’t to be TM on any tour Palaye Royale were on. It was a system that worked for years; she never saw any of the three men, and since she’d blocked them all on all of her social media accounts, along with anyone she knew they were close with, she wasn’t even sure she worked for the label they were signed to.

 It was the perfect arrangement, as far as she was concerned.

 But then the world had gone to shit. That had been rough for everyone, not least Tia, who had been lucky to be put on paid leave through the worst of it, getting 75 percent of her monthly salary each month. Between that, using the extra time to spend on her crafting hobbies that allowed her open up an Etsy store, and her savings, Tia had been lucky enough to wait the virus out. Some of her colleagues hadn’t been so lucky, and had had to move on, but as much as Tia’s heart had hurt for them, she hadn’t really thought of what that meant for her.

 Like the fact Sumerian were now dealing with the world opening back up for concerts while they had a lack of tour managers.

 Which was how Tia had ended up being named TM for the second leg of Palaye Royale’s The Bastards Tour.

   Just kill me now.

   Kayley had been apologetic, and Tia honestly believed there was nothing her boss could’ve done, but in some respects that just made things more frustrating. There was no-one to blame for these circumstances but a shitty universe fucking with her, and so Tia just had to put on her big girl knickers and get on with it. Starting with introducing herself to the boys as their new TM.

 It wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, Tia was pretty sure it was going to be the worst day she’d had since she’d dumped Emerson.

 Despite that, though, Tia squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked onto the tour bus that was going to be her new home - and the home of her ex-boyfriend and his brothers - for the next few months. The sudden silence that fell across the three men sitting in the main living area was deafening, but Tia didn’t let it intimidate her. She was going to have to face a lot worse than just silence, and she wasn’t going to be beaten so early on.

   So, instead, she just put a blandly professional smile on her face, and introduced herself before any of those idiots could speak: “Good morning. I’m Tatia, and I’m going to be the TM for this tour.”

 “We know who you are.” Sebastian glared at Tia: “It’s not like we’d forget the bitch who dumped our brother on the way back from the hospital.”

 Remington nodded: “We’re not awful people.”

   Tia would like to argue that point, specifically about Sebastian and Remington, but she was determined to remain professional.

 Even if Emerson was staring at her as if she was some sort of literal angel: like he couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing her. It was weird, and Tia really hoped that he stopped doing it soon, but in the name of remaining professional she ignored it.

   “Of course you’re not.” Tia agreed with Remington, keeping her tone light and friendly, despite how bad his attitude was: “And irrespective of any previous relationships, we’re going to have to work together for the next three months, so I believe it’s in all out interests to be civil.”

 “Or we could just tell the label that you’re a ex and we don’t want to work with you.” Remington smirked.

 Tia just smiled at him: “Sumerian Records have been aware of the fact Emerson is my ex-boyfriend since you signed with them. Normally I would not have been your TM, but there’s a bit of a shortage of us around at the moment, and I’m the only one available for this tour. If you would still like to take it up with the record, then you can, but in terms of TMs, it’s me or no-one.”

   Silence reigned again.

   “Shall we get on the road, then?”

   The silence continued, and Tia took that as a win.

      A month into the tour, and Tia was ready to tear her hair out.

 Remington and Sebastian were dicks. Andrew, their touring guitarist, took his lead from them, even if he wasn’t as bad: and their merch girl Hope did the same. All the roadies, some of whom she’d worked with before, were on her side, seeing Remington, Sebastian, and Andrew as arrogant and rude because…well, they were arrogant and rude, snapping demands during set up and ignoring everyone the rest of the time. The driver hated them because he was constantly annoyed by their antics on the bus, so he was on Tia’s side too

 The bus was divided, and it was not conductive to a good environment.

 And then there was Emerson.

 Emerson, when he wasn’t busy on stage or doing media, followed Tia around like a lost puppy. The roadies had found it really creepy to begin with - and even when Tia had filled them in on the fact he was her ex, they still weren’t too happy about him. She was rarely left on her own, and she grateful for that - because apparently Emerson was not over her.

 He started with constantly trying to make eye contact whenever they were in the same room. When that didn’t work, he moved onto texting her, since she’d unblocked him for work, but she ignored all messages from him that weren’t work related. Once he’d realised he wasn’t getting anywhere with the texts, he’d moved onto gifts and cares. A lot of gifts and cards. Stuffed toy cats, expensive treats like fancy baked goods and chocolates, interesting sounding books, even jewelry.

 Tia ignored all of it, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would stop letting her do that.

 Eventually, he managed to corner her while she was talking to Hope about how much stock the merch table needed and if they needed to look at getting more. With Hope being firmly on the band’s side, and probably assuming Emerson was going to chew her out like Remington and Sebastian constantly tried to, she disappeared the moment he gestured for her to give him and Tia a moment.

   He didn’t waste a moment once he had her trapped between himself, the merch table, and a wall, immediately launching into what he wanted to say: “Tia, I’m so sorry. Past me was awful - ”

 “I hate to break it to you, Emerson, but present you is also pretty terrible.” Tia rolled her eyes.

 “ - but I have changed.” Emerson continued, before his expression turned regretful when he registered what she’d said: “Even if I haven’t necessarily shown you that.”

 Tia rolled her eyes again: “Pretty much the opposite. You and your brothers are exactly the same as I remember you: aggressive, cocky, or just plain apathetic. Your brothers have gone out of their way to make life difficult to me, and you’ve sat back and let it happen, just like the three of you used to drive me to the urge of panic attacks, and you did nothing about it. So, yeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that you’ve shown you’ve changed.”

 Emerson had the good sense to look ashamed: “You’re right, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

   Tia remained resolute when Emerson’s face dropped.

 She wasn’t sucked in by the act - and on the off chance it was genuine, it was nothing compared to the upset he’d caused her. The fact was, dating Emerson had been terrible for Tia’s mental health. It had driven her to therapy after the relationship ended, which had in time allowed her to see that although her issues were absolutely not Emerson’s fault, he exacerbated them so much that if she hadn’t dumped him when she had there would have been issues that he was to blame for.

 Had she missed him? Yes. Did she still miss him? That was harder to say.

 Emerson was a unique soul, and Tia had truly felt they had gotten along amazingly…he just never listened to her when she explained that there was something wrong. She had loved him, even though they’d been together for just six months, but that had been over four years ago now, and even though sometimes it made something in her chest clench when she looked at him, she honestly wasn’t sure if it was love or just an echo of the pain he’d caused her.

   “I want to show you that I have, though.” Emerson suddenly continued: his forlorn look being overtaken by one of determination: “I will show you that I have.”

 Tia wasn’t sure she believed him…but she found that, deep down, she wanted him to, even though she wasn’t going to admit it, so she just sighed: “I’m sure you’ll try, Emerson.”

 “I will.”

 “Okay, then.” Tia shrugged, still acting like she didn’t believe him - because she honestly didn’t, no matter what she wanted: “I’ve got work to do. You do what you want.”

   She walked away, leaving Emerson to plan whatever he was going to do to try and convince her that he was a better person that he used to be.

   I wonder if it will work…

[remingt0nleith]

brownies and brothers • requested • remington leith imagine feat emerson barrett • smoking.

A/N: I got two requests to do an imagine that involves a female reader who smokes weed. The first being one that dresses in comfy clothes and smokes with Emerson, then the second being headcanons of a stoner gf of Remington. 

This is just a short imagine where Remington’s gf is besties with Emerson, the two enjoying getting high together while Remington just laughs at their antics and appreciates their friendship. 

The door to the tour bus opened and out flew a cloud of smoke, Remington laughing softly as he spotted you and Emerson curled up on the couch together, a joint being passed between the two of you.

“Are you guys planning on leaving the bus, today?”

He questioned, plopping down lazily on the couch across from yours, converse clad feet resting on the makeshift coffee table in the midst of the aisle. Fast food wrappers littered the table along with bottles of soda and Emerson’s impressive weed stash.

You stuck your tongue out at your boyfriend before accepting the joint from Emerson, taking a hit then watching the smoke curl up and around the fairy lights which decorated the bus.

Emerson gingerly accepted the joint again, making no effort to answer his brother as he leaned back into the plush pillow on his side of the couch, his large pirate hat covering his eyes as he relaxed.

“I think we’re good here, babe.” You answered instead, your bunny slipper foot nudging Emerson to take his turn.

Remington rolled his eyes playfully as he watched you and his little brother exchanging red eye glances and fits of giggles as you smoked.

He loved seeing how quickly the two of you had bonded since Emerson was the quietest of the trio, he didn’t make friends easily.

Emerson offered the joint to the lead singer but he quickly shook his head, he smoked with the two of you on occasion but not before a show, claiming it messed with his voice. You admired the dedication he had for his craft and didn’t push the matter, instead enjoying the rare moment when your boyfriend did partake in smoking.

You loved being on tour with the boys, due to the heavy amounts of traveling you were able to be in your element. You practically lived in your cozy tracksuits and hoodies along with your favorite plush bunny slippers. When it came time for the boys to hit the stage, you transformed into a tight dress or skirt with knee-high boots, spending time doing your hair and using Remington’s makeup to decorate your eyelids and lips.

“I’m thinking of eating some edibles..”

Emerson admitted once the joint was finished and sitting in the ash-tray.

Your reddened eyes widened at that, mouthwatering for the sweet taste of brownies.

Remington looked up from his phone to see you practically salivating at the mere mention of sweets.

“I think you two have had enough,” he gently scolded causing a matching pout to instantly appear on yours and Emerson’s lips.

“But Remi…” you whined, getting up from your spot on the couch to crawl into his lap, gently nuzzling against him.

The singer just laughed, wrapping his arms around your frame, lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“My point exactly.” He mumbled, a soft laugh escaping as you playfully nibbled on his neck.

Emerson drifted off to sleep, hat falling over his face as his soft snores filled the bus.

“Looks like your buddy is asleep.”

Remington teased as he shifted to lay down, you curling against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart which sounded louder in your state of mind.

Your heavy eyes fell shut as your body melted and felt like jello against Remington’s toned chest.

The feeling of his nimble fingers running through your hair was like a lullaby, sending you to a dream state.

You were only asleep for a few minutes before you were startled awake by Emerson muttering to himself about the edible brownies, your eyes opened and instantly you were laughing at the pirate who was still half asleep but shoving brownies into his mouth.

“Goddammit,” Remington let out a soft laugh of his own.

“You two are something else. I can’t take you anywhere.”

Emerson talked through a mouth full of brownies as you reached for one, not wanting to get up from your comfy position on top of Remington.

“But you love us.”

He passed you a brownie which you gladly accepted, eating it and getting crumbs all over your boyfriend, in the process.

You and Emerson could be a handful at times but Remington wouldn’t change a thing.

xx

[the-world-is-spinning-round]

Beastly - Emerson Barrett fan fiction (Spooktober Writing Challenge)

The full moon hung heavily in the dark sky, steadily climbing upwards, prompting Gwendoline to walk a little faster.

It was the first full moon of the year - the Wolf Moon - and she could already hear the sound of howling beyond the village walls.

Most nights, those walls were enough to keep the forest’s wolves out of the village, but on the night of a full moon? And on the night of the Wolf Moon of all full moons? The walls were no obstacle to the monsters that lurked within the trees. Once the moon was at its highest point, those howling beasts would vault the wall that separated them from the humans in the village, and Heaven help those humans then…

Which was why Gwendoline had to get home quickly.

She knew she didn’t stand a chance against a hungry wolf, especially not one that had probably been starving all winter. Hunger made monsters of them all, and for a creature that was already beastly…

Another howl split the quiet night air, sending a cold chill down Gwendoline’s spine.

Time’s running out.

Almost running now, Gwendoline rounded the corner that was the end of her street…and froze in her tracks.

In the middle of the narrow street waited the very kind of monster she’d been afraid of coming across, watching her with cold, hard yellow eyes.

Gwendoline felt the heaviness of it’s gaze like the leaden merchants’ weights from the market, pinning her in place, making her shiver even in her thick woollen dress and even thicker shawl. Fear shot an icy trail down her spine, sharp like a claw dragged down her skin - just like the claws of the monster watching her.

He might not look it yet, but the yellow eyes were a dead giveaway, even as they looked at Gwendoline from a deceptively handsome young man’s face. And if they weren’t, the smile he gave her - more of a baring of too-sharp teeth than anything close to an expression of happiness - was the final nail in the coffin.

The final nail in her coffin.

As if there’ll be enough of me left to need a coffin.

The beast took a step forward, prenaturally graceful and with all the precise measurement of a predator, and everything in Gwendoline screamed at her to run, but she knew that that would only entice the beast. 

It was a hunter. And just because she was its prey didn’t mean she had run scared like a fawn or a rabbit.

She drew herself up to her full height, even if it wasn’t much, and stared straight back at the monster. Then she simply waited for it to lunge.

Only it didn’t. Instead, it tilted its head to the side and watched her with a curious expression, before eventually speaking in a voice that was rough and croaky as if from disuse: “Not running?”

“I thought you’d be thanking me for that.”

The monster pouted - like a child: “Not fun.”

“I won’t apologise for taking the fun out of my own death, creature.”

Now the monster smiled: “Emerson.”

“Excuse me?”

“Emerson. ‘S my name. Not 'creature'.”

Gwendoline was about to tell the beast that she didn’t care what his name was, considering that he was about to kill and eat her, but then he tensed as if to finally leap at her, and all her willpower was spent locking her trembling knees and forcing herself to stand tall where she was.

She wouldn’t die on her knees. She wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t plead.

If she was going to go, it was going to be with dignity.

The monster didn’t leap, though. It watched her brace herself, and when she didn’t scream or flee, it relaxed with a mysterious smile on its face.

“More fun than I thought.” he said, nodding approvingly.

Gwen was, once again, about to tell him that she didn’t care about any of this - his name, his ideas of fun, his ‘approval’, but then he was slinking towards her, and she considered it might be smarter to keep her words to herself, lest her voice shake and give away her fear. 

The beast approached her with all the predatory grace of its less human form, taking its time moving forward until it was just inches away from her, filling her head with the scent of the frozen forest: pine and ice and cold water, and leaning down so that it could look her closely in the eye.

“Definitely more fun than I thought.” he murmured softly, reaching up to run the pad of his thumb along Gwendoline’s lower lip: “I’ll be seeing you again soon, little rabbit.”

Gwendoline didn’t think - she just tried to bite the monster’s thumb where it was still pressed to the corner of her mouth: much to his delight.

He merely laughed at her, trailing his fingertips over her cheek and down the side of her neck, before stepping back and removing his hand entirely.

Gwendoline forced herself to ignore the way she missed the feeling of his calloused fingers on her skin.

“Go home, rabbit, and lock your door. Keep yourself safe.” he smirked at her: “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

He loped away, radiating self-satisfaction and smugness, and Gwendoline watched him go, uncertain whether or not this was some kind of joke…but then he didn’t reappear, and neither did any of his packmates, and Gwendoline turned to run to her cottage at the end of the row.

She’d, somehow, been given a second chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it dithering in the street.

She slammed the front door shut behind her, pressing her hands against the silver studs that ran through it, her heart hammering in her chest and her thoughts whirling in her head.

Everything that had just happened - right down to the fact that she was still breathing - felt impossible. It felt like it shouldn’t be real…but Gwendoline just didn’t think she was creative enough to dream anything this nonsensical up.

And she wasn’t sure if she was terrified by that…

…or perversely relieved.

[sleekervae]

Surrender | Remington x Eva

Masterlist

A/N: Happy Halloween! I've got a cold like you wouldn't believe so I figured it's time to bless you guys with some treats. A little vampire-esque fantasy blurb based on this ask.

Summary: Remington catches Eva writing about her fantasies

Warnings: fanfiction writing, some tumblr angst, light but tantalizing smut, a lot of hickeys

⋆ WORD COUNT — 3.6k

Slowly, Victoria pushed the bedroom door open, contrasting against the quickening of her beating heart. She had given him time and he had found no cure for her. She was ready to embrace death if it meant him and his brothers could be saved.

Skin still damp from the pouring rain she clung tightly to her cloak, making her way downstairs in his eerily homely home. It was warm, as it has been throughout her stay there. Usually he would never feel the need to turn on the heating, but with a human under his roof he’d grown considerate of her comfort. Aldous basically did what he could to keep Victoria alive, all while staying well out of her way and in turn not killing her himself.

Before she even had the chance to call out his name in the open living area, he was resting against the doorway in front of her – as though he sensed her coming. Water beads trickled down her face when she stayed completely still, frozen, staring at the vampire who’d been hellbent on protecting her soul.

Aldous swallowed, wetting his lips all while his eyes slid over her body and drinking in her silhouette in her dainty, floral corset. Unlike herself, he was dressed more casually in a loose, puffy shirt and suspenders drawn tightly against his torso. All tied together with black slacks and bare feet. His disregard for colour palettes or themes when it came to fashion choices never failed to amuse Victoria.

“Did you need something?” His voice was flat, unreadable, much like the expression blanketing his sharp profile that only softened by the wavy locks of blonde hair tickling his thick brows, “Did you leave another book here?”

“No… I just-, I just wanted to see you I guess," she sighed absentmindedly, shaking some excess water from her hair, “It’s pretty lonely up there,”

The look on Aldous' face was nothing short of pained when his eyes squeezed shut, he looked almost guilty before he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Victoria… I’m sorry. But it’s for your own safety,"

“You’ve never hurt me before,” she mumbled, averting his gaze.

And he hadn’t. Initially when Victoria first met Aldous all those months ago, she was terrified of him and the prospect of what he could do to her. He was strong, a lot stronger than a regular bitten vampire, he’s a Blackwell vampire, he was born for this life. It was in his veins and always had been. Even before he and his brothers secured their place in the immortal world, the monster he became lingered beneath the surface. Waiting. Begging to be freed.

But then she got to know Aldous on a personal level, and he would do anything to keep her safe. The fact she was standing in his house proved the fact on some level, despite having no soul, he did care about her. There had been moments together, heated moments, moments that would last an eternity in his mind, where he could’ve succumb to his inner demon and blood lust. But he didn't.

Aldous' features soften upon meeting Victoria's eyes, his doe-like eyes may be raven black in colour but they were swimming with emotion, enough to make her drown in them, “Truthfully I don’t know what’s worse,” He frowned, pink lips parted, “Staying away from you makes me crave you more, but being near you…”

“Makes you want to kill me,” Victoria cleared her throat, somewhat overwhelmed by his presence.

A while ago he’d asked her if she believed in fate, soulmates, convinced that she and he were tied by the beauty of the moon. But as she watched the man in front of her physically struggle to breathe around her, Victoria was reminded that it was nothing more than the curse of the Blackwell bloodline.

The corners of his lips quirked up into a soft smile, “It’s not the curse,” His voice was low, still equal parts infuriating and endearing that he could read her thoughts and she'd never get used to it. “You’re… It’s…. It’s more than that. If I were only interested in you because of the curse you would’ve been dead a long time ago. The curse complicates things, but, well…”

“Maybe it’d be better for everyone if I just died already and got this over with.” she chuckled, while simultaneously trying to ease the budding tension with a joke at her own expense it was obvious Aldous didn't see the funny side. His frown deepened, a small hum escaping him.

“Is that how you really feel?”

“I’m just saying…” she sigh, squeezing the cloak around her body a little tighter, “I give my life in exchange for the Visigoths leaving you alone… And you won’t have to waste time searching for a miracle. You can go back to your normal life before we met—”

“My time will never be wasted when spent on you.” He took a step forward, surprising her, his jaw clenched so tight she wondered if vampire bones were capable of shattering, “If it takes me forever to get ride of Lilith then so be it, I’m not prepared to let you die.”

She tried to reason with him, shuffling a cautious step in his direction, “I don’t want you to be in pain anymore, if dying is the only way—”

“I’m not going to let that happen!” The projection of his voice startled her, but not as much as the loud bang followed by bricks crumbling around his feet after he punched the door frame did. She stared at him wide-eyed and frightened, unable to peer away from the way his chest heaves up and down with each angry breath. “I need more time… I’ll find a way.”

At this she lost it, laughing humourlessly before she matched his volume and rage, “There isn’t another way Aldous! You’ve tried!” she rushed over to him, until she was in arms-length distance and being mindful not to step in the aftermath of his temper, “I can’t live like this anymore, knowing that it’s hurting you and your family… I just-, I want this to be over with. I’m ready,” she sighed, eyes fluttering shut. It was such a relief to say that out loud.

Aldous swallowed, dark eyes zoned in on her face, “Well I’m not ready to lose you, Victoria,”

“It has to be this way, to save --”

“I'm not letting you go, not yet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” He began, trembling boney hands gently finding purchase on her shoulders, “You’re the poem the universe wrote only for me.”

A tiny gasp betrayed her when his cold fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. It was indescribable how beautiful the man was standing before her, even in his human life he must’ve been the most handsome person around. His eyes were dark in colour, framed by even darker delicate lashes. The pits of her stomach ignited with desire, along with an uncontrollable need to be closer to him. A pull so inhumane and sewn deep into her soul that Victoria struggled to compare it to anything she'd ever experienced. It was Aldous' breath, warm against her lips that broke her from the trance, gazing up at him with big eyes.

“I know you feel this too… This comfort, this desire…” He whispered, until his lips were a hair away from hers, his own eyes sliding shut, “The ache in your heart, is my promise to you that this is more than the curse. You belong with me,"

“Then change me,” she pled quietly, cupping his angled jaw with her hands, “There’s no way to beat the curse, if it’s death that completes his transition… Technically I’ll be dead. Change me.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll save you or us, there’s no guarantee you’ll even survive it… Not every human is strong enough to withstand it. It’s too risky. Your life isn’t something I’m willing to take chances on.”

She sighed again, pressing her forehead to his, “Please, Aldous...”

"Whatcha' working on?"

Eva nearly jumped out of her seat, moving swiftly to change the tab on her laptop, "Remington!" she spun around in her chair, coming face-to-face with her moppy-haired boyfriend. He gave her a curious glance, his brow popped and she prayed he couldn't hear her heart thundering in her chest, "I -- I didn't hear you come in..."

"Yeah, I just got home," he chuckled, "Did I startle you?"

"Just a little bit," she nodded sheepishly as she glanced around their shared space. It was bright out when she last checked, now it was bordering on the sun setting, the clouds blanketing the sky a dark, dull bluish grey, "Oh my gosh, it's late. I totally forgot about dinner!"

"Don't worry. We can order in," he bent down to give her a kiss, smoothing her hair out of her face with a gentle stroke of his fingers, "What were you working on?"

Eva shrugged back, "Oh, just... more paperwork and stuff. Client reports... taxes..." she hated that she was such a bad liar.

"Taxes aren't due until spring, babe," he tutted.

"And why not start now rather than later?" she replied with a simple shake of the head, getting up in search of her cat, "Where is Pluto? I gotta' feed him,"

"I think I saw him dart under the couch," he noted, glancing at her computer from the corner of his eye. Eva groaned aloud.

"Not even a smoke bomb's gonna' get him out," she turned around and to her horror, Remington was hunched over her computer, skimming through the blank article she clicked to, "What're you doing?" she asked, her tone sharp and swift.

He turned back to her, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips. She loved that smirk as equally as she did hate it, "Are you hiding something from me?" he asked, two fingers scrolling up and down on her track pad.

She scoffed back, shooing his hand away, "Of course not,"

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes I am,"

He took a step forward to which she took one back, "You were just working on taxes?"

"... yes," she stiffened.

His smirk grew, trying to stifle his laugh. He found her so stupidly adorable when she was flustered. Eva winced when the backs of her thighs hit the edge of her desk.

"... And is Aldous Blackwell your financial advisor? Or is he an accountant?"

Remington was delighted when Eva smacked his arm repeatedly with her sweater paws, her hands stuffed into the cuffs. He laughed as he grabbed ahold of her, awing at her pouty lips and her averted blue eyes.

"Shut up! You saw -- you dick!" she whined.

"Well of course I saw!" he cackled, "If I walk in and Pluto's the only one who greets me I know you're working on something important. Clearly -- my alter ego is very important to you," he winced and cringed as she smacked him again, "Okay, okay! Calm down! It's okay!" he assured her.

Eva wasn't one for hearing his assurances. She buried her face in her hands, grumbling to herself, "Please don't tell anyone,"

"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna' tell anybody! C'mon, look at me," he replied, taking her hands away and placing them around his waist, "How long have you been working on that?"

She huffed, debating whether it would be more worth her while to kill him or herself in that moment, "I -- Billie and I were going through some of your videos and we were watching Tonight is the Night I Die and... I just had this idea and it fit so well into your story line..."

Remington stepped back, taking his spot in her chair. The screws squeaked under his weight and the padding on the arms were worn, but it was comfortable for him nonetheless, "Tell me about it,"

Eva sat on the edge of her desk, she thought about telling him to fuck off, or she'd simply walk away and try to change the topic. However, she began to laugh. Not a full belly laugh, a bashful stream of giggles that matched the tinge of blush on her cheeks.

"I -- there's no -- I can't," she stammered nervously.

"Oh, c'mon Eva," he drawled, pouting his moist, pink lips at her. Eva looked away, knowing she was always unable to deal with that pleading look he perfected, "Or I could just read the blog post if you prefer..."

"Absolutely not," she shut that down very quickly. The only thing she treasured more than her cat or him was her secret blog, still swearing up and down that she'd never show him, "... I wrote about this girl who owes a debt to the Visigoth family, so they send her into the Blackwell manor and they give her this potion that infects her blood so if one of the brothers bite her, they die. The catch is that the potion is slowly killing her until vampire saliva is injected into her arteries. So the only way she can save her life is if the brothers bite her, but she ends up falling in love with one of them and yada-yada-yada. It's so cliché," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest like a child.

Remington was amused to say the least. He rolled closer to her, his hand brushing up and down her bare knee, "I don't think so. It's an interesting angle. What part were you at before I came along?"

This had to be a test from God, it must've been a biblical test of patience for her. Eva shook her head, "I'm not answering that,"

"Why?"

"Remington..."

He lifted her feet into his lap and rolled the chair closer, her legs bending so he could rest his chin on her knee, "C'mon, please? I swear I won't laugh. I can't speak for Pluto,"

Eva rolled her eyes, nevertheless she knew he wasn't going to let this go. If there was one thing Remington had going for him, it was his persistency, "I was right about to dive into the cesspool of animalistic vampire sex that was so carnal it would make Morticia Addams blush,"

"... And your female protagonist -- does she bare a striking resemblance to someone I know?" he asked.

"... Maybe..."

He quirked his brow again, his intrigue fully peaked now. His fingertips tickled at the undersides of her thighs, reaching the hem of her cotton shorts and drifting down again. Eva swallowed back whatever uneasiness was bubbling in her throat, could pick off by the darkened look in his eyes that Remington was already up to no good.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"What?" he echoed back, feigning innocence.

"I get nervous when you look at me that way," she replied, her giggles bubbling with apprehension.

"Why? I could offer you some inspiration, if you need," he said.

"I don't have writers' block,"

"And?"

She couldn't lie that the masochist in her enjoyed how he toyed with her nerves. That being said, she enjoyed playing hard to get even more.

"You're ridiculous," she pushed him back with her foot before hopping off the desk.

"Me?" he gaped with mock insult, "You love me so what does that say about you?"

She smirked back, rocking back and forth on her heels, "That I probably need a psych eval,"

Remington's eyes narrowed and he gripped hard on the armrests of her chair. His head leaned back against the rest, his dark eyes fell into slits and his long dark hair fell at the sides of his face, and Eva swore she only saw him look so brooding once before.

"C'mere," he waved her over with his hand.

Eva shook her head, "No,"

"Please?" he leaned forward.

"Nope," she took a step back.

"Eva..."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Oh, you have no idea," and with that, he took off out of the chair. Eva took off a second later, a chase ensuing throughout their apartment. Squeals and childish laughter echoed through the air, likely heard by their neighbours but they couldn't give two shits.

Remington finally slid across the floor to grab Eva, lifting her by her waist and tossing her over his shoulder. She slapped at his butt, a futile attempt to get him to put her down but she was awash in joyful giggles that were just music to his ears.

She was still laughing when he tossed her down on the bed, quick to pin her arms over her head as he crawled on top of her. His lips crashed over hers in an instant, messy and rough and so devilishly hypnotizing. In and instant the mood in the room went from playful to carnal; no matter how Eva squirmed or tugged Remington refused to let her loose.

He was careful not to smother her with his weight, a sly smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her, "You're so cute,"

Eva's only coherent response was to stick her tongue out at him. Remington chuckled darkly, "I'm gonna' bite that tongue, young lady," he mused.

Remington wet his lips, flashing her a lascivious grin before he moved forward, bringing his lips just before hers. He breathed against her, teasing her with the idea of a kiss, before turning to the side and finding her neck.

 Goosebumps freckled her skin as the heat of his breath hit her pulse point, and within a hot second, Eva was a goner. Remington's lips pressed against your throat, and the connection was so incredibly electric, her body tensed, currents crackling throughout her veins. 

Eva squirmed as his teeth scraped across her skin, applying enough pressure in his bites to certainly leave a mark but not to puncture the skin. He let his lips brush back and forth over her collarbones, kissing her lightly before suckling hard. His teeth grazed over the warm skin, leaving soft red imprints, tongue darting out to lick at any marks he might have left behind, but before he could actually get his lips to suck the hickey he desperately wanted to lay on her skin, she called out to him.

"Remington," a moan of his name and he was pulled from her neck, lips detaching, still parted slightly, puffs of air slipping through his teeth. Driven on instinct and fed on her whines he craved to hear the moan again, see the marks imprint his mind once more,

“What is it?” he cooed, taking her face in his with one hand, eyes still lingering to the pretty marks, “Tell me what’s wrong?” he smiled when she bashfully looked away.

"Nothing's wrong," she groaned, but it was more than the eye could see. She was consumed by the power he had over her, was torn between how gentle he was being with her and simultaneously craved him to ravage her.

"I never thought about it until now," with no objections, he tore away the shorts and slowly from her body, gliding them down her legs, "But I think if Aldous had a lover that he would be very passionate... but he'd also be very impatient if he didn't get his way,"

Eva exhaled heavily, squirming as his fingers slid over her slit through her panties, "And if he was here right now what would he want?" she asked.

" -- He'd want to hear all the pretty sounds you make when your pussy is played with... just like this," two fingers were on her clit, rubbing in short, concentrated circles, "And if his lover liked to put up a fight, then he wouldn't stop until you surrendered to him; doesn't matter how many times he has to fuck you,"

Make noise she did, not that she could help it. Her hips bumped up with every pass, every twirl and manipulation on her clit had her silently begging for more. She mewled, struggling to pull her arms down for some little seam of control but Remington was relentless.

He pushed her against the mattress, looming over her with his incredible body. He completely swathed her, entirely controlling her pleasure as his lips drew sinfully arousing kisses on her neck, hungry and lustful while his fingers played calculated chords between her legs. 

 His teeth lightly nipped her skin before his tongue smoothed the ache, and he moved onto another part of her neck, ravaging it. She wriggled underneath him, exhilarated by his body pinning her into the wall, his hips pressing into hers — she didn’t ever want him to stop.

“It's okay, baby,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head while he curled his fingers down and then upwards, brushing against that spot deep within her, “Talk to me,” he encouraged. 

“Feels good,” she whimpered, almost whining when he slid his fingers out of her and dragged his fingertips over her clit, “So fucking good.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled, sliding two fingers back in, “You’re opening up for me,”

“F-fuck,” she moaned brokenly, turning and burying her face into the crook of his arm. Remington sped up the pace of his fingers after, her sinful moans only spurring him on.

“You gonna come?” he whispered and she nodded, gaping when his lips reattached to her neck and he sucked hard, “Go ahead baby, come for me,"

“Rem,” she gasped, her back arching against his chest when he used his thumb to brush against her clit. 

“Be good and come on my fingers baby,” he whispered, filthy words pushing her over the precipice, her orgasm rippling from the top of her head to the ends of her toes.

Remington felt a surge of power, easing her legs wide as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of her, lips dragging down to fresh skin around her chest and bringing more hickeys to the surface, sucking on her like a god damn vampire.

[ourlastnightistonight]

#58 with Emerson Barrett

“It wasn’t exactly...legal”

Emerson’s POV

This tour so far sucked. Usually my girlfriend, Y/N came on tour with us but this is our first time leaving the country on tour. Of course, she doesn’t have a passport because she never thought she would need one before we met and ended up dating. This was our first huge tour which would be travelling to multiple different parts of Canada and she couldn’t come along. The look on her face when I told her where we were going was heartbreaking, the minute she realized she couldn’t come the smile on her face disappeared. She didn’t cry or throw a tantrum she just accepted it. Earlier this week she just made sure we spent more time together since we wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. It just all seemed too easy, I thought she was going to break down and cry. I have been trying to call her all morning, it’s the fourth day of tour and she hasn’t answered my text messages in a couple of hours. I check the time zones already, so I know it’s not too late or early for her to answer. I wonder why she is ignoring me, could she really be that upset about not going on tour with us? Maybe, I’ll just give her time, she could just be busy for all I know. Something about this just seems really off, but I trust her and believe that this is just a weird thing happening.

*time skip to that night*

I was sleeping in my bunk after falling asleep while staring at my phone waiting for Y/N to call me back. I was woken up by Remington shouting my name from what seemed to be the front of the tour bus. I scramble together as fast as I can thinking it is an emergency and someone is in trouble. As I basically run all the way to the front of the bus. I stop abruptly when I notice that my girlfriend is standing in the “living room” with her best friend. I run over to her and lift her up spinning us around while I kiss her. As I put her back down on her feet I start to think of how she was actually here.

“Y/N? How are you here right now,” I ask her trying to remain calm.

“Welll, ummm it wasn’t exactly… legal. So do you really want to be an accomplice to that?” she jokes around.

“What did you do,” I demand.

“Well, you see Y/B/F/N and I really wanted to come on tour but unfortunately I don’t have a passport. She does, so we decided to sneak me over the border. I got in the car in a place where they would not see me at border patrol. Once we got over the border I hopped back in the front seat and we came here,” she said with a timid voice

“YOU WHAT!?!?!?! Y/N you could have gotten arrested or in trouble,” I try and explain to her

“I know, I know. I just really missed you and I realized that I most likely would not get caught anyway,” she tries to explain

“Ok, I get it. But as soon as we get back you are applying for a passport right away,” I look at her

“Deal,” she says

She then runs back to me and kisses me again, now that she knows I’m not truly mad at her.

[holding-on-to-smoke]

[a-and-mtrashpile]

Dating Emerson Barrett Headcanon

Anon requested: Hi! Could I request a dating Emerson headcanon please

- So many hats 

- Like 

- It was obnoxious

- But he loved them

- Sweet little love notes all the time

- He constantly put them around the house

- Before he leaves for tour he makes sure to hide a few

- So much artwork everywhere 

- At one point your walls were a nice solid white

- Not anymore

- Not that you mind but you for sure aren't getting your security deposit back

- The two of you constantly go on cute ass dates

- One time he surprised you with a petting zoo an you actually cried

- A monkey almost stole his hat and he was more than okay with it

- Obviously his brothers love you because you make the baby happy

- OH

- Slow dancing to classical music all the time, anywhere

- Tell me that isn't the cutest shit ever

- His favorite thing about you is how supportive you are

- His artwork?

- Better than Picasso

- The cryptic shit they keep pulling?

- Truly fucking amazing

- Gets so fucking soft when you're around 

- Like, he'll take his hat off and let you wear it

- Just straight smiles when he's with you 

- Wow 

- I want my own Emerson

[embermonstersworld]

Imagine: Emerson getting you roses when he ask you on a date but getting shy and hiding behind them

Found image on Pinterest credit to owner

[ghosticycoffee]

✨Mental Stability✨

[multifanbisexual]

Imagine #12

you walk in the tour bus with the outfit that remington bought for you, he falls in love all over again.

[the-world-is-spinning-round]

Hunger - Emerson Barrett fan fiction (Spooktober Writing Challenge)

Sequel to Beastly

The winter dragged on.

January and February were expectedly cold and snowy, but when there was ice on the ground in March, Gwendoline knew that it was going to be a hard year.

April had brought little change. The weather was still cold and wet, and although the ground was no longer frozen, it was constantly waterlogged: sending splashes of bitterly cold water into the air with every step. Everyone was doing their best to carry on as normal, but the tension in the village was thick enough to be cut by a knife…

…And the newcomers weren’t making it any easier.

The three brothers were a little too strange for the villagers to be comfortable around. There was nothing specific that anyone could put their fingers on, but they were just…unsettling.

Only Gwendoline had a specific reason to be wary of the brothers.

They were wolves.

Or, at least, the youngest one was.

Gwendoline remembered every detail of her encounter with the wolf - Emerson - under the Wolf Moon with perfect clarity: she had recognised the wolf who had wanted to eat her instantly. And he had recognised her too, directing a sly smile in her direction, his hazel eyes flashing yellow while looking at her, just for a second, before he looked away.

She’d almost screamed. She had turned straight back into her house and slammed the door shut behind her, locking it with shaking hands.

All night she’d been convinced that the wolf was going to come for her in the night, and kill her like he’d intended to, but there had been nothing. Neither had she even seen him during the week after that day. Then a fortnight had dragged on and the only time she had seen the wolf was in passing in the village, and he never even looked at her.

It had honestly felt like a horrible game. Gwendoline was sure that she was being lulled into a false sense of security before the wolf moved in for the kill…but that had quickly become the least of her concerns.

The end of April came around, and the ice returned.

The farmers swore and the milkmaids gossiped about witches’ hexes and the housewives muttered about keeping their children inside (to protect them both from the cold and the theoretical witches) and Gwendoline started to panic. Her job as a seamstress was enough for her to get by on normally, but food was getting more expensive by the day, as was the price of everything else. On top of that, everyone else was facing the same problem, and having clothes made or repaired was quickly becoming a luxury that few could afford at the moment.

Gwendoline’s fears of being eaten were quickly being replaced by fears of how she was going to eat.

She was so distracted by those fears that she didn’t notice the wolf following her until he cleared his throat, just about making Gwendoline jump out of her skin. She turned to glare at the person who had scared her so rudely at this time of early evening, when the setting sun filled the village with unsettlingly deep shadows, only to take a sharp step back when she saw who it was. And another when she realised that they were all alone in the half-light.

“You’re thinner.” he remarked bluntly: “Are you not eating?”

“I’m…you’re asking…” Gwendoline stuttered, taken aback not just by the bluntness of the wolf’s words, but also by the open concern on his face: “Why are you asking if I’ve been eating?”

“Because you’re thinner.” the wolf replied, as if it was obvious: “You were already thin, and now you’re thinner. So are you not eating?”

Gwendoline was so confused…confused enough that she couldn’t think of anything else to do except answer: “I’m eating as much as I can afford to.”

“But it’s not enough.” he nodded in understanding…of what, Gwendoline wasn’t sure: “I’ll fix that, don’t worry.”

He loped away before Gwendoline could come up with a response for that, disappearing from view quicker than she could think anything other than ‘I probably should be worrying…’

The wolf was long gone by the time Gwendoline had ordered her thoughts, and by that point she just felt…tired. She was hungry and anxious and so, so tired: she couldn’t bring herself to care about whatever the wolf was planning. She felt like there was no point fighting it; whatever would happen would happen, and all Gwendoline could do was just wait for things to unfold.

She went home, climbed into bed, and waited for the wolf to come barreling through her door…only for his intrusion to come in the form of a light knock at her kitchen window.

She dragged herself out of bed and forced herself into the kitchen to see the wolf waiting patiently at the window, wearing a small - and sincere looking - smile and…holding a basket:

“I brought you some food.” he said the second she opened the window, pulling it open further so he could pass it through to her: “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Some of everything…” Gwendoline trailed off, feeling the weight of the basket, and looking down to see…everything.

The basket was full to bursting with apples, pears, a jar of honey, another of jam, bread, a pot of berries, carrots and parsnips, potatoes, cheese, some salted meat, even a freshly caught rabbit. It was a huge amount of food - enough to feed her for a week. Maybe longer, if she was careful.

And the wolf had just…handed it over.

Like it was nothing to him.

“I can’t take this; it’s too much.” she whispered, looking up at the wolf and pushing the basket back towards him: “This must be enough to feed you and your brothers for days, please.”

The wolf looked oddly pleased by her denial: “My brothers and I have plenty, even without this. You need it more than we do, so please, take it.”

Gwendoline still felt uneasy about taking so much food, even if the wolves really did have plenty, even if it was from the same wolf who’d terrified her just a few months ago…she felt like she couldn’t take so much without offering anything in return.

Perhaps it was a ploy, but the wolf looked so sincere that Gwendoline just…didn’t think it was. The wolf didn’t give off any impression that he had achieved something or got one over on her, he seemed genuinely and sincerely pleased that she was accepting his kindness. An act of kindness that Gwendoline had been raised better than to take for granted. 

“I’ll accept the food, but only if you come round to share whatever I cook from it.” she bartered.

“Deal.” the wolf agreed instantly, nodding his head enthusiastically: “I look forward to seeing you!”

Before Gwendoline could respond, the wolf bolted off, a bright grin covering the bottom half of his face, leaving Gwendoline with a basket full of food and a feeling of mild confusion.

She wasn’t upset though. If anything…she was actually strangely excited. Truth be told, she was more worried about what she was going to cook that the wolf might like over the fact she had just invited him into her home.

And she couldn’t really bring herself to care about that.