#his tie is really nice though and it actually matches his shirt??

[mikkaeus]

you heard it from him first folks

[alastor-simp]

Alastor X Reader - Dressing Up As Him

"Hum hum hum~♫" Alastor was walking around the hotel lobby, humming a tune to himself as his eyes scanned all of the inhabitants at the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie were putting up more banners and decor in the lobby, Nifty was sweeping, and Husk and Angel Dust were at the bar. Alastor kept looking around to spot you, but he had no luck. Heading over to the bar, he leaned over the counter, smiling his signature grin. "Ah, Husker my good friend! Having a good day?" Alastor said, as he gazed at the grumpy cat, wiping a glass with a towel. "F*** off." said Husk, as he glared at Alastor, not wanting to deal with him. "Hey smiles~ Looking sexy as always." said Angel Dust, as he leaned back slightly on the bar stool, winking at Alastor. "Please refrain from flirting with me Angel.” Alastor said, extending his mic towards Angel, trying to move him away. "Ah your no fun." said Angel as he pushed Alastor's mic away from, and crossed his arms, placing them on the bar stand. "Anywho! Have any of you seen y/n? I didn't happen to see them in the lobby." Husk just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't really know where you were, but he also answered quickly as he just wanted Alastor to leave. Angel dust was nice enough to answer as he told Alastor that he had heard you, rummaging around your room along with music playing in the background. He was gonna bother you, wondering what was happening, but he decided not to, and left you alone. "Thank you Angel! I will go find them now!” said Alastor as he walked away from the bar, missing the wave from Angel and the middle-finger from Husk.

Heading towards your room, Alastor was hoping that you were alright. Before, Alastor didn't really care much about you when he first met you as he though of you as another simpleton staying at the hotel, but after talking and hanging out with you a few times, he slowly started to care about you as he found you to be a rather sweet soul that wasn't common to see in Hell, with the exception of Charlie. Of course, he would hide that from the others as he had a reputation to uphold as being "the radio demon", so the less the people knew he had a kind heart, the better. Arriving at your door, Alastor knocked a significant beat, calling out your name, hoping for an answer. He could hear what sounded like electric swing playing in your room, but no response from you. He wanted to barge in, but he thought that would be rude so he continued to knock until you answered.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were eyeing yourself to make sure everything was set in place, and your outfit was fitted perfectly to yourself. You were wearing a striped red coat on top of a red dress shirt with a black bow tie that matched with the dress pants and black shoes, along with the outfit, you had on a red wig with a deer ear headband on top of it. Yes, you were wearing Alastors exact outfit. You really loved Alastors look, and you actually wanted to cosplay as him, but you would never tell Alastor that, as you didn't want to weird him out if he had caught you wearing his outfit, thinking you were some type of creep. You did remember that Alastor was very close to the overlord, Rosie, who owned the big emporium, so you had confided with her if she could help with your cosplay idea. Rosie was very surprised, but found your efforts cute and she actually was able to connect you with the tailor that designed a lot of Alastors clothing. It took a while, but you were able to get the whole outfit from the tailor, and you couldn't be more excited and happy to try it out. You had everything fitted to a T, but the only thing missing was the microphone, but you could think of an idea for that later. Staring at your reflection, you stretched your mouth into a wide smile, trying to match Alastor. The smile looked great, but holding that smile all day was going to be very difficult as your cheeks started to ache. Sighing, you turned away from the mirror and headed towards the radio to turn the music down. As the music died down, the thumping beat from the door, alerted your prescence: "Yes, who is it?", you called out. "Hello, Its me, darling. Are you well? I noticed you were not with the others in the lobby, so I decided to pay you a visit!” Oh No! Alastor was here, in front of your room. You couldn't bear for him to see you, wearing his outfit. "Um, I'm okay. Just tiding a bit, don't worry." You lied, as you were hoping Al would head back to the lobby. "Ah, I see! Well you wouldn't mind if I come inside, do you? I would very much like to have a nice chat.", Alastor said, as he continued to stand at the door on the other side. Oh Satan, he was not planning on leaving. Panicking, you run towards the door, unlocking it, to signify to Al it was open, before running towards your bathroom, closing the door.

Entering inside Y/N room, Al looked around your room, but didn't spot you anywhere. "Darling? Where are you?," Alastor called out, as he made his way further into your room, standing with his hands behind his back. "I'm in the bathroom, Al. Just washing up a bit. You can sit on the bed and we can chat from here." He had heard you call out. Arching his eyebrow, Alastor found it a bit strange, but he didn't question anything further, and made his way over to the bed, and sat down. As he gazed around the room, Alastor happened to spot something on the floor. As he gazed closer, he recognized it was a bow tie that was similar to his. Reaching out and picking it up, he eyed it and questioned to himself why this was in your room. "Darling?" "Yes, Al?," you said behind the door. "I found a bow tie that is similar to mine in your room. Do you know why this is here?"

Panicking, you looked down and saw that the bow tie was no longer on your shirt. "Sh**!", you whispered to yourself, as you tried to come up with another lie to tell Alastor. "M-maybe you left it here by accident." you said, mad at yourself that you stuttered. "I would happen to remember losing something like this the last time I visited you." Alastor said, as he kept eyeing the bow tie, turning it around to eye it. You stood on the other side of the door, realizing that he didn't buy it. "T-hen umm-", you froze, stuck on what to say next. Alastor noticed your change in tone, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the bathroom door. "Darling~, is there something you are not telling me perhaps?", Alastor said, smirking to himself, as he stood in front of the bathroom door. "N-no.", you said, as you heard voice more clearly now. "Then why do I sense such nervousness in your voice?", he said, as he continued to stand in front of the door, inching closer to hear you. "I-I." Stuttering, you couldn't think of another thing to say as Alastor figured out you were acting odd. "Darling~, What are you hiding? Come on out.," Al sang behind the door, as his smile got wider, enjoying the situation you were in. "OKAY! ok. I'll come out, but could you back away from the door a bit and also close your eyes please?", you said, letting Al know you were ready to come out. Al raised an eyebrow that you wanted him to close his eyes, but he said nothing, as he walk backwards, and shut his eyes.

Opening the door, you saw Alastor standing in the middle of your room, hands folded behind his back, eyes shut, and his signature grin on his face. Standing a few feet from him, you told him to open his eyes, while you cast your eyes down to the ground. Alastor opened his eyes, and he was put back for a second as he saw you dressed to the nines in what look to be his clothes. Everything you were wearing was matching him, and the only thing that was missing was his mic staff and the bow tie, that he was holding in his hand. Looking up, you noticed Al's face was stunned, but he was still smiling. "Before you say anything, just know that I'm wearing this for cosplay reasons. I'm not a freak and these were custom-made for me, they are not from your room, I swear." you blabbed all of this out, twiddling with your fingers, and looking back down towards the floor. Silence filled the room, after you were done talking. You were afraid to look back at Al, as you were expecting to see radio dials in his eyes.

"HAHAHAHAHA! My my, how dapper you look, darling!” Alastor laughed out, along with his mic that started playing a laugh track. Looking back at him, you weren't expecting a reaction like this from him. "Y-your not upset?" you questioned Al, as you continued to twiddle your fingers. "Upset? Why no, darling! Is that why you were hiding from me? Cause you figured I would be upset?" said Alastor, as he tilted his head at you. "Well, I didn't want to disturb you if you saw me wearing your outfit." "Well, I must admit I was surprised, but I am not upset. But I do have to ask, why are you dressed up like me?", he said, as he approached you, red glowing eyes staring at you, and his award winning smile on his face. Sighing, you explained to Alastor that you really enjoyed his look and outfit, so you wanted to cosplay as him. Alastor smiled softly at you, and hooked his finger under your chin, raising your head to look at him. "You are quite adorable aren't you, my dear." he said, as he then let your chin go, and began tying the bow tie back onto you, finishing it quickly and taking a step back. "There we go, dear! All set! Now we just need a smile! Come on dear, smile!" Alastor said, as he leaned closer towards your face, smiling wide. Blushing, you looked away for a second before giving Al a smile as big as his. "Perfect! I must say you make a good me!” Alastor said, as he placed his hand on your head, giving it a rub. "Thanks Al." you said, as you blushed and looked down again. "Now, since you want to be like me, we could engage in some carnage in the city! Imagine, the radio demon and his doppelgänger causing mayhem to the denizens of the Pride ring! Quite a premise!" said Alastor, extending his hand out like he was giving a performance in a play. "Um, sorry, but no thanks. I know we are in hell and all, but I'm still not use to all the violence and carnage yet." You said, as you looked at Alastor shyly. "Aw, don't be such a wet blanket , my dear." Alastor said, as he looked at you again, still smiling, but his ears were dropped down, signifying that he was a little sad. "Sorry , Alastor. Maybe we could do something else instead, like head to a cafe or go to one of Mimzy's shows?", you said. "Hmmm. Fair enough." Alastor said, as his ears perked up after he heard you say that. Hooking your arm in his, he pulled you next to him, as he raised his fingers up, ready to use his powers to teleport: "Lets go, my dear! I feel like this is going to be very entertaining!”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97; the one where Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! Cut for length.

“Sure,” Lynn says, and Billy gets up and thinks to himself–okay, if they’ve got a few minutes before they need to leave . . . 

“There’s one thing,” he says, then ducks into the hall and into the linen closet where he hid Tawky’s stuffed animal form, ‘cause he wasn’t really sure if Lynn would feel outnumbered meeting them both at once, and also wasn’t sure if Kid Flash’s parents would have opinions about wild animals in the apartment and all. Not that Tawky’s wild, obviously–Tawky is a respectable gentleman! But some people don’t understand that, so it just seemed smarter to avoid the issue for now. He didn’t want to make the first time Lynn met Tawky weird or awkward. 

Tawky’s the best. Billy definitely doesn’t want Lynn to get a bad first impression of him because somebody else doesn’t get that. 

“. . . what thing?” Lynn asks after a moment. Billy brushes Tawky’s fur into careful order, because he knows Tawky hates to look messy, then straightens his little bow tie and nice tweed cardigan for him even though they don’t really need it. Tawky wanted to look nice today, for meeting Lynn and all. Billy understood, so he got the magic to make him something to wear too, and he thinks Tawky looks really gentlemanly and refined! 

“I can introduce you, if you’re ready to come out?” he offers, taking Tawky back down the hall and out into the living room with him. It’s not a great time for Tawky to turn into his real form, since they’re indoors and Batman might get the wrong idea about a full-sized tiger suddenly showing up, and also none of the furniture is really gonna fit him at full-size either. Billy makes a mental note to buy more beanbag chairs when they can. He’ll have to ask Batman where he got the ones that’re already here, so they’ll match and all. Or at least be complementary, anyway? He really wants the apartment to look nice for Lynn. 

He hopes Lynn and Tawky get along. Tawky’s his best friend, and Lynn’s his kid, so it’d really suck if they didn’t. And Tawky’s great, and he’s already sure Lynn is too, so he’d hate for them to miss out on making . . . friends, he guesses? 

Well, maybe that’s a little weird. Not that Lynn doesn’t already have a lot of older friends, and obviously Billy does too, but if they’re all gonna be living together, welllll . . . 

Lynn comes out into the hall and Billy brightens reflexively and grins over at him. Lynn’s still wearing the same Superman T-shirt and stuff, but his backpack’s gone. Billy feels pretty good about that. He never felt safe enough in new foster homes to leave his backpack anywhere, no matter who else was in it. Lynn doesn’t have the same experience, obviously, but it’s still reassuring that he’s at least comfortable enough to leave his bag unattended. 

Also, hopefully means he’s not planning to sneak off and run away when they go out. 

“Introduce me to who?” Lynn asks, folding his arms across his chest and looking uncomfortable. 

“This is your Uncle Tawky!” Billy introduces cheerfully, holding Tawky out to him. Lynn stares at him. Then he stares at Billy. 

“. . . a stuffed tiger?” he says slowly. 

“He’s a gentleman,” Billy reassures him, still holding Tawky out to let them both get a good look at each other. He and Tawky already talked about both being careful not to scare Lynn, since they didn’t think he’d be used to tigers or know if Cadmus would’ve told him anything about them. And Lynn’s really little, so he might get freaked out easier than an actual sixteen year-old would, Billy figures. 

. . . well, he guesses actual sixteen year-olds get freaked out by tigers too, depending on the situation? But Lynn’s invulnerable, sooooo . . . kind of hard to guess either way? 

Better safe than sorry, Tawky had said, and Billy had decided that made sense. It’s not like Tawky minds being a stuffed animal, anyway, and a stuffed tiger definitely fits into the apartment better than a thousand-pound one would. And maybe Lynn will like having a stuffed animal around anyway, since he’s technically a baby and all. He’s probably never had one, right? And Tawky really does give the best hugs. 

“. . . Uncle Tawky,” Lynn says, glancing warily at Tawky again. 

“Oh, he’s not your literal uncle,” Billy clarifies. He probably should’ve been clearer about that, considering. “Like I said, I don’t actually have any family or anything except you and my uncle, and he’s awful. But Tawky’s not like that at all! He’s my best friend.” 

“. . . you know how old I am, right?” Lynn asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah,” Billy says, giving him a puzzled look at the question. Lynn’s four days old. Or almost four days old, anyway. Billy figures the in-pod time was more like an in-utero situation, considering. He’s not sure why Lynn’s asking him that right now, though? 

“. . . . . . right,” Lynn says, then reaches out and very gingerly takes Tawky from him. He holds him kind of awkwardly, so Billy figures he was right about Lynn never having a stuffed animal before. It’s great that they’re already getting along, though! He didn’t think Lynn would want to hold Tawky right away. He seems kind of . . . reserved? Shy? 

Maybe both, really. 

“He can stay in your room, if you want,” Billy offers. “He’ll protect you!”

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, looking mystified as he looks down at Tawky again. Billy figures it’s just the whole thing with not having had a stuffed animal before and beams encouragingly at him. 

“Great!” he says happily, clapping his hands together once. He knows Lynn’s invulnerable, obviously, but he’ll just feel a lot better knowing Tawky’s around to help keep an eye on Lynn whenever he’s busy with Justice League missions and Champion of Magic duties. Plus Tawky’s really good at eating nightmares and stuff like that? And nightmares suck for little kids, so Billy thinks that’ll probably help too. 

He's so glad they’re already getting along.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [5]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 5,464

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: i love this man, and i love every single person who has taken the time to let me know that they also love this man😌]

05: TO OUR EXES

"eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. but lovely. oh, so lovely."

It was nerve wracking getting ready for your date which was mildly ironic since it technically wasn’t even a date. Joel was in essence paying you to be there. That thought process didn’t help much though because it instilled the fear of ‘what if he didn’t like what he was paying for’⏤ which was a terrifying thought that could send you into a spiral if you thought about it too long. 

For the millionth time, you adjusted your outfit before checking your hair once more in the mirror. Joel had texted you that he was on the way to your apartment. You had actually assumed that Riley would be driving you to meet Joel at the restaurant or perhaps to Joel’s home or work. The idea of Joel coming to pick you up himself was so adorably sincere in your mind.

The sound of knuckles rapping against your front door gave you pause. You glanced down at your phone to see that you didn’t have any missed messages from Joel. “Coming!” You called out while shoving your phone and wallet into the small purse that matched your dress. Heels clicking across your floor, you hurried to answer the door. “Hey⏤”

Your greeting fell silent halfway through it as you opened the door to see Joel looking as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair⏤ it looked effortless on his part. A gray sport coat with a navy blue button up shirt under the coat sans tie. Joel’s hair had a slightly messy look to it that seemed to be more accidental than planned. As if a long day of stress had undone a perfectly acceptable work style. His lips curled into a smile.

“Hey, sugar.” Joel greeted and it was nice to hear his voice in person again rather than through a telephone. He shifted to pull his hand out from behind his back to present you with a new bouquet of flowers just as gorgeous as the first.

Your eyes widened as you took the variety of wild flowers from him “Joel… These are gorgeous.”

“No, darlin’, you’re gorgeous.” Joel replied without hesitation. You looked up from the flowers to see Joel’s eyes tracing every inch of you. The clear admiration in his emotive brown eyes making your breath catch in your throat. He shook his head once, “Goddamn…”

You could feel your cheeks and the back of your neck warm at the compliment. Clutching the flowers to your chest, you cleared your throat. “It’s the dress. Thank you so much, Joel. I really love it.”

“The dress ain’t nothin’ without you, sugar. Don’t be silly.” Joel let out a small scoff.

“Here.” You motioned for him to come in. “Let me put these in water and we can be off.” While walking to the kitchen to find something that could be used as a vase, you heard Joel close the front door and step in. Your eyes glanced over your living space in mild embarrassment. Joel seemed to be looking around as well and you saw his eyes drift to a few photos you had hanging on your walls. “You really didn’t need to buy me more flowers, you know. I’m still in love with the ones from this morning. The sunflowers are so pretty.”

Joel drifted over, seeming entirely out of place in your tiny home, “Need? It’s about ‘want’, and I want to buy you everythin’.”

“Everything?” You chuckled. 

Joel titled his head just a bit, amusement flashing in his eyes, “Did I stutter, sugar?” You housed the flowers into a glass vase so you could set it next to the sunflowers and roses from this morning. Joel cleared his throat. “Are the flowers too much?” It was the first time since the start of this that you heard hesitance and doubt creep into his voice again. Joel rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s kind of cheesy⏤”

“First off, how dare you use the word ‘cheesy’ in a negative context.” You replied and Joel’s smile returned. “Second, I love the flowers. I really do. I… Nobody’s ever bought me bouquets like this before”

“That’s a damned shame.” Joel’s doubt seemed to slip away. “Never?”

“Well, I suppose not never. I’ve gotten apology flowers maybe but never ‘good morning’ flowers and ‘date night’ flowers.” As the words left your mouth, your eyes widened. Early today, you had decided not to refer to this as a date in front of Joel because you were unsure of what to correctly call it. Despite this plan, you managed to screw it up before even leaving your apartment. “Not that⏤ I mean, tonight isn’t⏤ or it⏤ Uh, I…”

Joel chuckled then held his arm out at the elbow for you. “Ready for our dinner date?”

You felt your face warm once more this time partially in relief from Joel’s subtle reassurance. “Very.” You nodded and looped your arm through his. “Let’s go.”

The two of you left the apartment, only pausing to lock your door, and Joel kept his arm through yours to help you cautiously down the stairs and out to the front of the building. The car on the curb you didn’t recognize was a dark maroon truck and it was the one Joel led you to. He opened the passenger door and held your hand to help you climb in. 

“Watch your feet.” Joel said before shutting the door. As he came around, you chuckled and clipped your seat belt. Joel must have noticed your amusement and he grinned. “What is it?”

“I like your truck. It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” You teased. “I’m pretty sure guys with the kind of bank account you have are supposed to drive lamborghinis and mercedes.”

Joel laughed as he pulled away from the curb. “Those ain’t really my style, sugar.” It wasn’t necessarily true. You could picture Joel behind the wheel of a fancy car and God would he look good there, but the truck felt like him. It had the same 'down to earth' energy that Joel carried when he walked around in his flannels. “Growin’ up, I always wanted a truck like this.” He glanced over at you before his eyes shot back to the road. “It was the first thing I bought for myself after the company took off.”

You ran your hand against the worn leather of the middle console. The truck was well cared for, but obviously a bit aged. That was even cuter to you. Not only was he driving around in a vehicle you wouldn’t give a second glance on the road, but he wasn’t even driving the newest model despite being able to afford it plus more.

“So, tell me about your day.” You said. “Anything exciting happen?”

Joel let out a quiet scoff before casually walking you through some of the disasters he was forced to deal with. You knew very little, arguably nothing, about contracting or his job in particular. That being said, Joel had a nice way of telling stories. It wasn’t just his voice alone, which you had already established was addicting to listen to, but Joel was able to keep a person engaged and wanting more when he spun a tale. He wasn’t overly vocal from what you’ve gathered, but when he did speak the words he chose mattered.

“What about you?” Joel asked without glancing over. The truck was officially way out of your neighborhood and in a much richer area of the region. “That boutique okay?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You replied and began to tell him all about Kiera. “Honestly, I was nervous to shop at a place like that, but she was incredible.” Joel hummed happily and you began to tell him how you also got lunch with Riley. “I basically had to arm wrestle him into letting me use your card to buy lunch for us because he didn't want to ‘impose’.”

Joel barked out a laugh. “It’s kind of frustratin’ when you wanna buy somethin’ for a person who fights you tooth and nail on it, huh?”

You bit down on your lower lip to keep from excessively grinning. “Shut up. That’s not the same.”

“Oh, it ain’t?”

“I wanted to buy Riley a sandwich, you wanted to buy me a car.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see a difference.” You playfully rolled your eyes and he had been glancing over just at the right time to see it. Joel’s hand reached over to lightly grasp your hand which was resting on the middle console. His warm touch made your breath hitch and you could feel calluses on his palm. Joel gave your hand a tight squeeze. He scolded you teasingly, “Good girls don’t roll their eyes, sugar.”

“I⏤ I, uh, I did warn you that you were gonna turn me into a spoiled brat.” Your voice had cracked at the beginning of the sentence and you were forced to clear your throat to stabilize it.

Joel glanced over again, and he gave your hand a softer squeeze this time. Sincerity replaced his teasing, “This alright? If you don’t want me⏤”

“No.” You tangled your fingers with him in fear that he was going to pull away. “This is fine.”

Joel chuckled and for the rest of the drive to the restaurant you found it hard to focus on anything other than the small circles that Joel’s thumb was tracing against the skin on the back of your hand. You weren’t familiar with the area outside the car window but you found yourself surrounded by skyscrapers. The building Joel pulled up to was well lit and the people traveling in and out of the lobby looked just as well dressed as the both of you.

He parked the truck in the valet lane then squeezed your hand to draw your attention to him. “Stay right there, sugar.” You gave him a nod and watched as he climbed out and walked around the truck’s front. He tossed the keys to the valet with a quick thanks. The valet must have said something you didn’t catch because Joel chuckled and nodded. You shifted in your seat, realizing why he asked you to stay put, and waited for Joel to reach your door. Joel pulled it open, held a hand out, and offered a charming smile. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You replied with a grin and took his hand so he could help you climb out of his truck. Joel took your hand and looped it around his elbow. You felt your cheeks warm at the motion. Though you had known he was taking you out in public, a part of you thought he wouldn’t want to be seen with you though. It’s not like you were his dirty secret, the two of you weren’t part of some scandal or affair, but it still felt like something you were supposed to hide. You shoved the doubt out of your mind and let your eyes glance around the lavish lobby. “This place is gorgeous. Where are we?”

“This is the J Hotel.” Joel replied. You briefly stiffened. A hotel? Obviously, this was a hotel. You should’ve noticed from the curb. Was he going to take you to a room? A trickle of concern crawled down your spine. Joel seemed to notice because he set his free hand on top of the one you had holding onto his arm. “Hey. It’s alright. There’s a restaurant on the rooftop. That’s where we’re heading, darlin’.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding and shot him an apologetic smile. “Of course. Of course, we are. I’m so sorry.” He had been nothing but a gentleman, above and beyond really, and your mind had immediately assumed the worst of him. “I wasn’t⏤ I don’t think you’re that kind of guy I just⏤”

“No need for apologies.” Joel chuckled. “I’d be more worried if you weren’t wary of me. I’m a strange old guy payin’ you to hang out around me.”

You tightened your grip on his arm as the two of you stepped into the elevator. “Not strange. I’d use the words ‘kind’ or ‘charming’ or ‘handsome’ even.”

Joel let out a soft laugh as he hit the button for the sixty-seventh floor. The ride up only took a moment and when the floor opened up you commended Joel for his choice in location. The rooftop restaurant was gorgeous. String lights hung overhead and the seating area was filled with an almost garden-like energy. The maitre d’ spotted the two of you and hurried over to offer a greeting. It was very different compared to the side eye the maitre d’ from the restaurant where you and Nima had met Roaslind. You were led over to a table and you were excited to see it was near enough to the side of the roof that you’d have a clear view of the LA skyline without having to peer around another table.

Joel slid his arm out from yours to pull out your chair. The flowers, opening your car door, pulling out your chair⏤ it was all very little things, but you found yourself enjoying it immensely. Joel sat down across from you and you gave your waiter a double take when you realized he had only offered one menu for the table and he had placed it in Joel’s hands.

“Um…” You began.

“Don’t worry.” Joel replied. “We only need one. This place makes four new dishes a day. I can read you those four options.”

You crossed your arms to lean on the table, amused, “And why can’t I read my own menu?”

“Because,” Joel scanned the menu once more before meeting your gaze, “I know you’ll end up pickin’ your meal based on the price tag rather than get what you actually want.” 

Your eyes widened in slight surprise. He wasn’t wrong, but it caught you off guard that he had thought of it. Joel quickly walked you through the options and you picked a meal that sounded most appealing to you. When the waiter came back, he took the order and offered a few wine choices. Joel nodded to you to decide and you agreed to whatever the waiter thought would work best with your meals.

“You know,” You laced your fingers together with a small smile, “I’m surprised.”

“By?”

“Most rich people can’t fathom the lifestyle of someone in my tax bracket.” You replied with a small shrug. “Because you were right. I would’ve probably picked based on the price, without even realizing it.”

Joel chuckled, “I wasn’t always rich, sugar.” You knew he hadn’t always been a multi-millionaire, but you assumed he jumped from upper class to that level. “Back in college, and a little while after, I was broke.” He offered you a small understanding nod. “I’ve had those days where you go out for dinner with friends and you pick the cheapest thing on the menu ‘cause you can’t afford nothin’ else.” Your gaze softened at his words, and he chuckled. “Then you’re too proud to accept help from any of your friends so you spend the entire night tryin’ to convince them that corn nuggets were your actual favorite food and that’s why you ordered ‘em.”

You laughed at how relatable his words were. Not too long ago, right before Joel offered you this proposition, you had literally sat in a restaurant with Nima and refused to let her buy you food⏤ claiming you ordered the side salad because you weren’t very hungry rather than admitting you were forced to use your full paycheck for rent and bills which left you nothing for spending. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It was a fair assumption.” Joel conceded. “Most people who make it to my current tax bracket,” He copied your phrasing, “Started pretty near the top to begin with.”

The waiter returned to pour you both a glass of wine and you and Joel both thanked him. You took a sip and savored the flavor. This was absolutely not the boxed wine you had sitting in your fridge currently. A soft groan of approval slipped your lips.

“Good?” Joel asked.

“Much better than the wine I just bought from Target.” You nodded. Joel laughed and you motioned around the restaurant. “This place is amazing by the way. Do you come here often?”

Joel shook his head. “No. This is my first time.”

“Oh. Why’d you pick it then?” You asked curiously. 

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat then offered you a sheepish smile, “I didn’t. I asked my assistant to plan this out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just been a while since I did anythin’ date related… If it had been up to me I would’ve taken you to a diner a few blocks down from my office. Best burger in LA, I swear it.”

You resisted the urge to tell him that you would’ve been happy with any place he chose as long as it gave you time to spend with him. That seemed to potentially cross a line from ‘fake date with a sugar daddy’ and into ‘real date with a man you’re crushing on’. A distinction you were making a real effort to focus on. However, you were unable to resist asking the question that had plagued you all day.

“How is it you haven’t done anything date related in a while?” You asked. “How are you even single?”

“You know…” Joel grunted out a vague response and shrugged.

You chuckled, “No, actually I don’t. I find it very hard to believe that a guy like you couldn’t have any woman he wanted, yet here you are. With me.”

“With you is exactly where I wanna be.” Joel replied confidently. You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle. He held his wine glass in his hand, but lifted a finger from it to point at you. “There you go rollin’ those pretty eyes again. You’re askin’ for trouble.”

“No. You know what I’m asking.” You countered.

Joel let out a small sigh and nodded. “I was with a woman a year ago. It didn’t end well.” You took a sip of your own wine but continued to lean on the table listening intently. “It was just a messy relationship. We weren’t… compatible, but we stayed together longer than we should’ve. She didn’t like that I was too cold, and I didn’t like that she was sleepin’ with other guys.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence alone. “God, I’m so sorry, Joel.” It was baffling that anybody wouldn’t appreciate what they had with Joel. And cold? You’ve known not even a full month, but if someone asked you to describe Joel the last word you’d use was ‘cold’. “She thought you were cold?”

“She said I wasn’t affectionate enough.” Joel replied in an off handed manner. The way someone would respond to a question they didn’t want to elaborate on. Still, you had a hard time believing Joel was not affectionate with his significant other. Hell he had been more affectionate toward you this last week than your ex-boyfriend had been the last few months of your relationship. You wondered if his old girlfriend hadn’t understood his affection. You were getting the feeling that Joel’s love language was ‘Acts of Service’. To someone who didn’t respond to that then they could potentially make that complaint. “It was a long time ago.”

You twisted your lips, “You haven’t met anyone since then that you were interested in?”

Joel held your gaze for a beat before he glanced at his wine glass and took a sip. He shook his head and met your gaze once more with a small smile. “It just wasn’t a priority.” He chuckled. “Then I got lovingly bullied into the sugar baby idea.” There was obviously a story there that you were curious about, but Joel changed the subject so you were the topic of conversation. “Don’t feel obligated to answer ‘cause I talked about my love life, or lack thereof, but… what about you?”

“Me?” You motioned to yourself.

“Yeah.” Joel grinned. “You’re a catch, sugar. Smart, witty, fun, drop dead gorgeous,” You felt your cheeks warm at his words and you hid your smile behind your wine glass as you took a sip, “How’re you single?”

This wasn’t something you enjoyed talking about, but if Joel could share a bit of his painful past then you could as well. You licked your lips, “I wasn’t single six months ago.” Joel’s eyebrows rose. “I was dating a guy and we were pretty serious.”

“How long did the two of you date?”

“Two years.” You admitted with a slight wince, and Joel looked even more surprised. “The topic of marriage actually came up, but…” You cleared your throat. “He told me I wasn’t marriage material.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry, what?” You shrugged in response, not knowing what else to say. He scoffed with a shake of his head. “No offense, darlin’, but your ex is an absolute moron who didn’t know what he had.”

“It’s funny you say that.” You teased. “I was just thinking that about your ex.”

Joel’s lips curled up into an amused smirk. He lifted his wine glass toward you, “To our exes then. Without their mistakes we wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“To our exes.” You laughed and clinked your glass against his.

The rest of dinner consisted of conversation topics that weren’t quite as heavy as the history of your love lives. Just like with your phone calls with Joel, talking to him was the easiest thing in the world. Any moment of silence that did occur between the two of you was comfortable rather than awkward, and you never felt pressured to fill the space with words just for the sake of it.

When the waiter came to the table with the check there was no question of who it was going to. He handed it over to Joel who thanked him then pulled out his card to hand back. You finished the last of your current glass of wine.

“Seriously though,” You spoke up, “Thank you so much. This meal was amazing.”

“My pleasure, sugar.” Joel chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it.” The waiter returned with his card and you watched Joel write on the receipt before rising up. He held a hand out to you to help you out of your seat and you beamed as he pulled your arm through his arm once more. “Night ain’t over yet though.”

Your smile widened as you let him lead you out of the restaurant. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Joel replied as you both settled in the elevator. You hit the button for the lobby before he could. He reached into his coat’s internal pocket to pull out two tickets. “Some show in the LA County Museum of Art.” 

He offered you the tickets for you to see what it was for. You recognized the name of the show because Nima had just been talking to you about this only a few days prior. Joel paused with you by the side of the road as the two of you waited for the valet to bring his truck around. 

“Do you know much about this show?” You asked in curiosity. If the few things you did know about him were correct you had a feeling that the same person who picked out this restaurant also chose this show.

“No. It’s some kind of art show, ain’t it?”

“Yes.” You chuckled. “But it’s a sensory experience.” Joel shot you a confused look and you grinned in response. “So… the area is dark and the only light is on the floor to light a path and the art pieces itself, and you’re not allowed to talk. It’s a silent showing.” 

You saw immediate distaste on Joel’s face as he took the tickets from you to scan them. Another laugh bubbled from your lips when you heard Joel mutter a curse under his breath. He blew out a sigh as his truck rolled around. “We don’t gotta do this, sugar, but I don’t really have anything else planned…”

The idea of calling this the end of your night already sat bitter on your tongue. Joel caught the keys thrown to him before opening the passenger seat door to help you climb in. As he walked around the truck, you pulled out your phone to search an address for a possible idea.

“I have an idea.” You blurted when Joel climbed in. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Drive here.”

He glanced at the GPS on your phone, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m not that big on surprises.” Joel countered skeptically.

“And I’m not good at letting people buy me things.” You smirked. “We’re both experiencing new things today.” Joel bit back a chuckle, but he still gave you a wary look. You leaned across the console with the brightest smile you could muster. “Please, daddy.”

Joel’s lips curled up into a smile and he shook his head with a laugh under his breath. He turned and put the car into drive to start following the GPS. You beamed at him and it felt empowering to know you were able to so easily sway him into agreeing to a surprise. Joel reached out again to lace his hand with yours. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute, sugar.”

“Here. If it makes you more comfortable,” You said, “When we get there I’ll let you pay for us to go in.”

“Oh, you’ll let me pay.” Joel laughed and squeezed your hand.

“Only because I’m feeling charitable today.”

Joel shook his head with an amused scoff.

The surprise you had thought of wasn’t far and you clocked the exact moment that Joel realized where your GPS was taking him. He glanced over at you before looking back to the road with a voice of shock. “Putt putt golf? Really?” Joel pulled into a parking spot and turned to stare at you in disbelief. “This is what you wanna do for the rest of the night?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. “What’s wrong, daddy?” The choice to use the nickname again was the correct one when you saw him stiffen in his seat. “Afraid I’m gonna kick your ass?”

Joel’s jaw locked and he snatched his keys from the ignition before climbing out of the truck. Knowing what he’d prefer, you stayed put until he came around to open your door. When he yanked it open you shot him a smug smile. Joel nodded once and held his hand out to you. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on you.”

“I’d be upset if you did.” You replied as your feet landed on the ground and you stood right in front of him. 

The two of you walked in through the front and you picked out a club while Joel paid for the course for you both. When asked if he wanted to do the 9 or 18 hole course he picked the longer one without even asking, and you smiled to yourself. You liked that he enjoyed his time with you as much as you did with him. He picked his own club and you grabbed a dark green ball for Joel and a light blue one for you. 

“We need to make a deal.” You said while you both wandered out toward the first hole. The place wasn’t very crowded which meant you wouldn’t feel rushed. 

“I think we already made a deal, last I checked.” Joel replied and motioned between the two of you.

“Funny.” You bumped your hip into him. “I meant for the game. Like... loser pays for post-game ice cream.”

Joel shook his head, “I’m not gonna let you pay for ice cream.”

“Okay, real bold of you to assume I’m gonna lose.” You laughed and Joel just shot you a confident smirk that fit his handsome features well. You stayed firm. “We need incentive.”

“Fine. How’s this? If you win, then I pay for ice cream.” He started. You followed his statement and narrowed your eyes at his wording. Joel continued. “But, if I win, then I pay for ice cream and I get to buy you an exorbitant and unnecessary gift.”

Your jaw fell open. “What?”

“What?”

“That’s kind of ridiculous.”

Joel looked smug as you both reached the first hole. “Just win and you won’t have to worry about it.” He dropped his ball down on the green, lined up his shot, and then hit. You watched the green ball roll down the first, simple path and drop into the hole. He turned in place to address your shock. “Or, you can think of suggestions to give me of what you might want.” Joel leaned in toward you just a bit and in a teasing tone added. “I’m thinkin' maybe a small country. Are you partial to Europe or Asia, sugar?”

“You can’t afford a country.” You scoffed. Joel shrugged and pulled back so you could take your turn, but your eyes widened. “Joel, can you afford a small country?” He walked down the course to fetch his ball. “Joel??”

The putt putt course brought out Joel’s competitive side and you loved it. It seemed like years of stress had been lifted off his shoulders as he let loose with you. As you both reached the end of the 18 holes he was in the lead by only a few strokes.

“You’ve technically already lost, sugar.” Joel chuckled as he waited for you to finish the last hole.

“Hush.” You replied.

Joel laughed then motioned toward you. “Look, you make a hole in one here and you win the entire thing.”

“Wait, really?” You perked up in excitement. Joel nodded. You readjusted your golf ball at the start and focused on lining up your shot. Joel continued to tease you while you tried to focus. You shot him a playful glare. “Excuse you, sir. Quiet on the course.”

Joel bowed his head in a mocking gesture and you went back to focusing on your turn. After lining it up, you swung. The ball bounced off the wall and made a beeline toward the hole. You began to bounce in excitement but the light blue ball rimmed around the hole and then sat on the edge without falling in.

“Are you shitting me!?” You cried in alarm. Joel laughed as you hurried over to where your ball sat. You pointed to it and looked at Joel. “Oh, come on. Come on!”

Joel stepped onto the course and kicked your ball in. He reached out to lightly tap the side of his knuckles under your chin making you warm. Joel let out a soft sigh and offered you a comforting smile. “Hey, it’s alright, sugar.” He leaned in. “I won’t buy you a country. I’ll just pick out some gaudy piece of jewelry.”

Your jaw fell again and he laughed. You gave him a playful shove, “I thought you were gonna give me the win!”

“Absolutely not.” Joel replied and took the club from your hand so you didn’t have to carry it. His hand settled on your lower back while gently leading you back towards the putt putt golf house. “I told you I wasn’t gonna take it easy on you.”

“What if I ask really nicely?”

“Aw, sugar, you can try.” Joel set both your clubs on the counter. 

His hand never left your back as he led you back out toward the truck. You turned and resisted the urge to rest your hands on his chest. Instead, you stepped closer and just tilted your head up to face him, and with a sickly sweet voice you tried again, “Please can we call this my win, daddy?”

Joel’s gaze softened as he stared at you and he nodded once. “Still no. Come on, let’s get ice cream.”

“Hey!” You cried as he grasped your hand and continued to drag you to his truck. You laughed and tugged on his arm. “If you were just gonna turn me down again then why’d you even give me the chance to ask nice?”

“It might’ve worked. You never know.” Joel glanced your way once more. “And maybe I just wanted an excuse to hear you call me ‘daddy’ again.” You felt your face grow warm at his comment and there was no hiding the way it made your smile grow. Joel ran his thumb against the back of your hand and chuckled. “So? Ice cream? I’m buyin’.”

You counted your blessings and sent another silent thanks to your exes.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611-blog @asreadbyajj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[vincentbriggs]

Good sir, I am hoping to pick your brain. I’m making an 18-century (“pirate”) shirt as a gift to my friend. He wants tie closures on the neck and cuffs instead of buttons. Might you have any insight or resources for this? I’ve seen the ties in at least one of the extant shirts I’ve viewed online. I’m still pretty new to the sewing gig and I’d like to minimize inventing metaphorical wheel as much as possible. Thanks in advance!

It's very unusual, but do know of one example! (Not that extant one though)

But first - Link to my most thorough shirt construction blog post. (It's a few years old and I've improved a few little things in my technique since then, and I mean to finish writing a new and better one before the year is over.)

Ok, ties on shirts! I'm assuming this is the extant one you're talking about? Tbh I'd discount this one entirely if you're looking for information on 18th century men's shirts because I don't think it is one.

Besides the attached ties, the sleeves are extremely weird. They're cut off and have no wristbands!! This would make it quite impossible to wear under a coat, the wristbands are an absolutely essential part of an 18th century shirt. I also don't see any reason to believe this is actually 18th century when it could just as easily be 19th century, and considering how short the slit is I think that more likely.

(Lots of auction sellers like to say "late 18th century" about things that are like... yeahh maaaaybe that's plausibly from a very fashion forward guy in the late 1790's but it's much more likely early 19th century. And with court dress they sometimes just straight up date it several decades too early. Look at lots of examples and always question everything, because museums don't always date things correctly either.)

I think I remember seeing someone mention once that it was a 19th century workman's garment of some sort, but I can't remember where, and all we've got to go on are a few pictures and a brief caption from a seller who doesn't know what they're talking about. It does look like it could have been worn over another layer though, and the fabric is very coarse. It could also have been altered at a later date for theatrical costume, which is something the Victorians did to A LOT of 18th century garments.

So just ignore that shirt!

The vast majority of 18th century mens shirts close with 2 or 3 buttons on the collar, but there is a style that uses ribbons. It appears to have been fairly common in the late 17th and early 18th century, and then slowly dwindles as the century goes on. I have a section for it on my shirts pinterest board with 64 examples. Ooh, wait, 65, just found a new one.

The collar is made with little to no overlap and one buttonhole on each end, and a ribbon is threaded through them.

Portrait of Carl Gustaf Tessin, 1728.

Sir Charles Howard, 1738.

I actually made one of these last year!

The collar doesn't sit as well with the ribbon as it does with 2 buttons, but once you put a stock over it it's fine.

Nearly every single depiction of an 18th century shirt I've ever seen (and I've spent a LOT of time looking) uses sleeve links on the wristbands. (Which I have a tutorial for! They're really easy to make!) I do sleeve links on most of my everyday shirts because I like them better than sewn on buttons. When the wristband is this narrow, sewn on buttons don't sit very nicely.

But! If your friend wants ties on the wrist in a historical way, I do know of one single example, and it's this guy!

Giovanni Maria delle Piane, Portrait of a nobleman. No date given, but if I had to guess I'd say 1680's or 90's. Very late 17th century looking fellow.

We can't see his collar closure, but I think it's very possible that he has a matching red ribbon holding that closed.

Personally I wouldn't want to try these, because they look like an absolute nightmare to tie by yourself one handed. But the good news is that you could make just regular wristband that take sleeve links and they'd work for this too, since both just have a buttonhole at each end! I aim for a finished wristband length that's 10-14mm longer than my wrist measurement, with the buttonhole being about 4 or 5mm in from the edge, which gives me enough ease to wear them comfortably with sleeve links, so if you do that then he'll be able to wear them both ways.

[dawndelion-winery]

I Can See You

Warning: suggestive, use of f-word (not the slur)

They get dressed up all nicely for you the spooky season (modern au)

Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya, Kaveh, Scaramouche

Alhaitham:

He didn't really see a point in getting in costume just for candy

But you insisted, and who was he to refuse to accompany you?

He honestly wasn't very pleased

Until he found a few costume ideas people were posting about

If his boyfriend-material turtleneck sweaters weren't form fitting enough, the skintight latex suit he was getting definitely was

He had no business dressing up as batman, flaunting his ass and abs like that

Still, he told you not to worry, as he'd cover up

And by that he meant wearing a full on suit and tie over it

Suddenly you're not so keen on leaving the house and it's Alhaitham complaining about how you're not getting ready to go trick or treating

Not that he actually minds, of course, given how the fit that night was picked out with the sole intention of convincing you to forgo the candy raid

Childe:

He's nothing if not extra

Full on SFX make up and everything

He made the side of his mouth seem torn and basically doused himself in fake blood (he assured you it was fake)

Fake burns to top off his already existing scars?? It's like he was dressing up to be the victim of some monster attack

And of course, he had to rip up his clothes to really sell the look

Ajax tearing shirts wasn't something you knew you needed to see

Seeing the fabric pull apart with a shrrrppp sound and loose seams dangling over toned muscles littered with as many scars as freckles

They're all old wounds, but the fake blood reminds you of when some of them were fresh and you were helping him tend to them

As you subconsciously reach out to caress the side of his stomach where a nasty old gash was, you felt his warm hand over yours

Right, well, Ajax always was a touchy person, so he never had any qualms about you feeling him up now and then if anything he wished you would more often

It was a soft moment until he spoke up

"Want me to rip up your clothes too? Though they might not be able to stay on then."

Kaeya:

You only ever get one of two things with this man

He dresses cute, or he dresses slutty

And you not wearing the matching peacock onesie with him meant he was dressing slutty

Hence the Seele cosplay

But without the wig, so he looks mildly cursed

Boi really out here strutting with everything on display like goddamn all this for free???

It was not, in fact, free

If you're not getting handsy on him along the way, he's keeping his hands on you because frankly, how could you not give him any attention when he's dressed all "fancy" for you?

Hi please appreciate his hips or he's going to dislocate his pelvis trying to flaunt himself in front of you /hj

Kaveh:

He's putting way too much into an outfit he's only going to use once

And you know damn well he's going to then use that as an excuse to keep using the costume

I mean, does he really need to recreate a fully functional Iron Man suit???

According to him the answer was an obvious yes

Honestly you were just a teeny but disappointed because you wanted to see his face

Which wasn't as much of a problem as you'd anticipated because it got hot in there, so he'd pop out of the suit every so often

You'd never been more appreciative of white dress shirts

More specifically the white dress shirt he chose to wear into that portable mechanical sauna he'd made himself

Yeah, maybe he really should use that suit at every opportunity

Scaramouche:

If you find him hot in his costume, you are 100% a monster fucker

Like Ajax and Kaveh, he goes all out

Except instead of aiming for visual appeal, he's going straight for trying to traumatise children

I hope you're not scared of zombies because he's painted himself grey and made faux scarred tissue all over

On top of tearing his clothes, he's burnt parts of it, and the shirt was pretty much just a few strips of cloth at this point

Oh, you thought you were going to have your boyfriend shirtless all night?

Well yeah, but somehow with what seems to be massive chunks of flesh missing and ribs poking through

His pants were, unfortunately, intact for the most part, with the hems undone and a little scorched

10/10 decaying zombie, and he makes you go as a zombie hunter equipped with a flamethrower

Taglist:@ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hollywood’s angel pt.2

part 1

nav // masterlist

Things to Know : Alastor x reader, 1920's, New Orleans, singer!reader, radio host!Alastor. Mentions of alcohol use, swearing, mentions of drugs, small civil conflict, mentions of death, mentions of a bar, drinking. Human! Alastor! White Headcannoned reader, Fem!Reader

" Ahh there it is. Hello dear!" The man called, before I turned around in my seat to see a tall man holding a box full of vinyls. " Don't mind this, it's just lots of old music." He said, setting the box down a few feet away from the table. From where I was sitting, I could see a few of the records and what not. “ I’m in the process of organizing my little closet back there.” He said as he dusted his pants off, and it was then I took in his appearance.

He was quite tall, his caramel skin complimented by the shades of blue in hit outfit. His black button up with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He had black suspenders with black dress pants, and matching black shoes. He had a black and blue tie, with large circular glasses and a messy head of brunette hair. I smiled as he fixed his shirt, taking his time to brush over every area.

“ You have quite the collection there.” I said with a smile, before finally he looked at me. His eyes were just as dark as his hair, matching perfectly and beautifully so. He smiled, nervously as he wiped his hands onto his pants, now seeming antsy.

“ W-well, I’ve always loved music, I presume that’s why your here, well why I asked for you to be here, not in a weird way but-“ He began to say, words spilling mindlessly from him. I giggled and stood, walking over to where he stood beside the box. He straightened almost instantly. I smiled before staring down at the box. He was a lot taller than I was, however he seemed as nervous as a bee being towered by a bear.

“ I’m happy to be here. Do you mind if I look at some?” I asked, gesturing to the records. He shook his head instantly, smiling and waving his hands.

“ Please do what you like, um, would you like anything to drink?” He asked as he made his way to a small little table as I bent down to pick up a vinyl. It was an older one, I had never seen it before.

“ Oh, I’ll have some tea if you don’t mind. Black tea.” I said as I turned the vinyl over to look at the back. It was oddly clean as I picked it up, he seemed to keep them in good condition.

" Here you go." He said, before I turned as I set the record player back into the box. I took the cup from him and nodded in thanks.

" Nice collection you have there." I said as I watched him sit in his chair, pressing a few buttons and adjusting a few things. He smiled upon my comment.

I sat across from him as I adjusted the microphone in front of me. It was polished perfectly, so much so I could actually see myself a bit in it.

" Thank you, some were my mothers. I keep them to play here sometimes when she comes to visit me." He said, and I smiled in awe.

" That's really sweet of you to do that for her." I said. He smiled before looking down at his watch.

" We have five minutes. I have a few things to ask but other than that it'll just be us talking. How does that sound?" He asked me with a smile. He seemed to always be smiling, though that wasn't a bad thing. It was good for someone to bring up the energy every once and a while.

“ That sounds lovely.” I say with a smile just as wide as his.

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

“ Here’s to Y/n’s biggest selling record!” My manager said, holding up a cup of alcohol, as everyone else raised their glass too. I smiled, thankful for the support on the music and all the promoting my manager had been doing.

“ Thank you all so much for coming tonight. The band and I really appreciate it.” I said, tapping my cup with another woman’s, likely the partner of another.

“ I hope you all enjoy the party.” My manager said, as I stood around for a bit with my manager. We began to chit chat for a bit, discussing the next few places i would be going too. However, a few minutes into our conversation, it seemed the guests had all but ran to the doorway upon a special entrance. Entering the door was a man named Carl Ellis, and behind him were several other big names. But, what surprised me the most was a familiar face, one that seemed to be stuck in the shadow of Carl. Alastor.

Everyone began to snap photographs and ask questions with a pen pad out. The men make they’re way to the bar, sitting down and speaking with one another. On the far side of the bar is Alastor, by himself, sitting in a section with the words ‘Colored’ above. He was quite, spiriting a wide smile on his face despite getting looks from the white reporters. It wasn’t every day a colored man walked into a white establishment.

“Why don’t you go talk to Carl, hm?” My manager suggested. But I had other plans.

Carl and I had met before, he had asked to take me to dinner. I declined and he refused to take no for an answer, asking what right I had to refuse him. Well, I knew I had just about every right.

Walking up to the bar, I could see one of the men point to me, and at this he turned in his seat eyes wide and sparkling, anticipated watching me walk over. I smiled to them all, getting close enough for them to scoot over, before I continued walking past them.

‘I could get killed for this.’ I think, watching as Carl’s face falls as he watches me walk to the ‘colored’ section. I smile to Alastor and order a drink, sitting next to him. His grin turns wider, shifting in his seat to face me better.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.” I say politely as my drink is placed in front of me. He laughs, pushing his skeeters farther up his nose.

“Well, I didn’t think you would sit with me either. I presume we’re both impressed tonight.” He says smiling, before leaning closer to me. “ You really shouldn’t be over here, this isn’t your section, you know.” He says, eyeing the reporters and photographers. I shrug and take a sip of my drink.

“It doesn’t matter where I shouldn’t be, what matters is where I am,” I say, feeling the burn of the alcohol in my throat. “ And I believe right now, I’m here with you. So let’s focus on that.” I say with a smile, ignoring the way I hear Carl curse at us from the other side of the bar. The two bartenders, one for the white and one for the colored, stare at each other with a somewhat challenging stare.

“Y/n why dont you sit with us?” Carl calls from the other end. I look over my shoulder for a minute, before smiling.

“No, I think I’m alright here.” I say, before turning back to face Alastor.

“Well, I assume congratulations are in order.” He says, tapping his glass with mine. I smile widely at this while his eyes study me, as if waiting for my reaction, though I’m not sure what too.

“Oh thank you so much, I was quite nervous truly.” I explain, taking another sip. He shakes his head with a hearty laugh before he finishes his own drink.

“I don’t see why. You’re what, America’s Sweetheart right now aren’t you? I’m sure the people would love anything you’d do.” Alastor explains with a fond smile, though there’s something else behind those eyes I can’t pick up.

“Oh please, you flatter me too much.” I say, before noticing his watch, and how pretty the gears are. “ Oh my, you watch is beautiful.” I say, and he looks down to it.

“Oh please no, this is far older than me.” He says with a laugh, before the bartender comes back over to take Alastor’s glass.

“Oh excuse me,” I say to the man, and he turns almost shocked to see me. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” I say politely with a smile, and he takes my drink with a nod. “Thank you!” I call as he walks away, before Alastor smiles.

“Well, you are careless.” Alastor says, fixing his skeeters.

“Why do you say that?” I ask with fake hurt, placing my hand over my chest.

“Giving your drink to a colored man? You don’t suppose he’d poison it?” Alastor jokes and I shake my head.

“If it was that concerning I wouldn’t let any man serve me a drink, regardless of color.” I say just as our drinks are placed back down in front of us. Before I could take a sip of my drink, lights began to flash and names were being shouted, slurs to be specific. Alastor still kept his smile, instead moving to fix his vest, reaching behind him to grab his coat, and standing to put it on.

“I’m truly sorry, but I believe I need a moment, some fresh air would do me good.” Alastor said, straightening his coat before pushing through the crowd to head out. I sat there, drink in hand stunned as the cameras began to blind me. Questions and names were being shouted, both at him and me. Some were calling me a ‘traitor’.

“Why don’t we get you a proper drink?” Carl asked, his handkerchief coming in contact with my glass to take it away from me. I was stunned, almost fozen, my eyes trained on where Alastor had walked through.

What a night.

[disney-trigger-warning]

What the TWST Boys wear to bed

Riddle Rosehearts

Classic simple button up pajamas set. Probably red and soft, like satin or some other nice fabric. Does not wear them anywhere but in his room, except on the third Tuesday of every other month, according to the Queen of Hearts Rule #629. He even has a little night cap.

Trey Clover

A simple man, he wears an old white shirt and red pajama bottoms with cupcakes designs on them. He follows the Queen of Hearts rules for pajama wearing, though if he gets the urge to bake at 3 am he’s not putting on regular clothes to do it, only adding some slippers to the mix. Riddle just sighs in disappointment when he catches Trey breaking the rules.

Cater Diamond

He had a normal pair of pajamas packed, but then his sisters raided his suitcase. Now he’s stuck in this frilly pink nightgown. He’s glad that it’s long sleeved and to his ankle, with an admittedly cute swoop neckline. He ends up borrowing a pair of pajama pants from Trey and sleeps in those when he absolutely can’t stand it anymore. He only wears the nightgown in his room.

Deuce Spade

He’s a good normal boy, who wears good normal boy pajamas to bed. And by that, I mean it’s a blue plaid pajama pants and a matching shirt with a cauldron on it. He really loves cauldrons, okay? He would wear it around the dorm if Riddle doesn’t yell at him for breaking the rules.

Ace Trappola

He falls into bed wearing whatever he was wearing for the day. He will take off his shoes, jacket, and tie, but that’s it. It’s really gross when he drops into bed with his basketball uniform on.

Leona Kingscholar

He sleeps nude. Ruggie is so tired of waking up Leona and seeing his bare butt. If he MUST go out, he throws on a silk robe that reminds you that he is a rich prince.

Ruggie Bucchi

He’s poor and can’t afford regular pajamas. He sleeps in an old threadbare shirt and boxers until the shirt ripped too much, then Leona gave him an old shirt to replace it. He can and WILL wear them around the dorm because he doesn’t give a shit.

Jack Howl

A simple boy, he choses the classic plaid pajama bottoms and that’s all. He will put on a shirt if someone needs him after jammy time.

Azul Ashengrotto

He wears a nice set of silken lavender pajamas. 

Jade Leech

Like Azul, wears a nice set of silken pajamas. His are black, like his heart, with little mushroom designs on them.

Floyd Leech

He wants to sleep naked but Jade says no. Instead he goes for the classic gray sweat pants or basketball shorts, even if he hates them. 

Kalim Al-Asim

We all know what this boy wears to bed. That nice little halter style red shirt and white shorts. Whore (affectionate). He actually hosts pajama parties for the dorm.

Jamil Viper

A simple classic boy, wears a set of red sweat pants and a white tank top. Has been forced into these pajama parties against his will.

Vil Schoenheit

A GNC king, he wears a beautiful spaghetti strap long purple night gown, with a sheer robe to cover it. He also uses a purple headbands to keep his hair out of his eyes and of course his nightly face mask.

Rook Hunt

Surprisingly, he doesn’t go all out with his nightwear. A white shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts, pajama pants when it gets too cold. 

Epel Felmier

He’s a MAN, a MANLY MAN, who wears only the manliest of man pajamas: nothing. Or at least he tried, until Vil yelled at him. Now he wears the apple themed pajama set his mama packed.

Idia Shroud

Some kind of anime merchandise inspired set or some kind of RSA Ignihyde theme assigned PJ set. That is under the assumption he DOES sleep.

Ortho Shroud

Is robot. He doesn’t need clothes.

Malleus Draconia

He is a fae prince and he is dressed like one would think a fae prince would for sleep. It’s black and green, dramatic, making you question if it even is pajamas. But it’s so soft and silky.

Lilia Vanrouge

Spaghetti strap hot pink shirt, a pair of black shorts, and neon green socks. I don’t know why but he gives me these vibes.

Silver

Half of his wardrobe is pajamas. All designs, all types. He randomly picks every night.

Sebek Zigvolt

Wears a classic black pajama set with lightening bolts on the pants. 

[jellyfishsthings]

Ok, first of all, I would like to apologise for not posting something for almost a month, bit it was exam season so... and I know I let you my fans down *que laughing bcuz it's not true*. Secondly, I would like to say that this is a bit different, it's not smut but I think it is quite funny and represents my character a little bit... also mean!Remus cuz he rules... so enjoy ig!!!

Part 2 , Part 3

I woke up, gasping for air, sweat making my shirt cling to my body like a second skin. I must look downright crazy, with flushed cheeks, hair a wild mess, and rubbing my thighs together without a stop. My mind drifted back to the dream that caused the state of my reaction.

His hands were roaming my body like I was the only thing he had ever wanted. And finally gripping my hips and making them move backwards until they hit his, and he was balls deep inside of me. Again. And again. And again.

The dream itself wasn't the problem. Sure, a sex dream wasn't that bad, and she had several over the years, but what she moaned and who was supposedly giving her all that pleasure was. Remus.

How? How had this happened to her? Not him. Not the one boy she never got along with. Not the one person who drove her up against the wall. Not the one that-

No, it actually made perfect sense. He was the only one who made her feel something. Sure, said "something" was regularly negative feelings. Like irritation, deep-rooted hate. But it certainly was more than anyone has ever made her feel. She looked at her alarm clock. And… great, only fifteen more minutes before it was time to get ready for breakfast. How was she supposed to pull herself together after that? It was going to be a long day.

She dressed in her uniform, only leaving her blue-silver striped tie, loosely knotted around her neck, her top two buttons open, exposing her collarbones. Her trousers, replacing the usual skirt, hugged her waist and hips nicely. Thank God, if there is one, but she had single-handedly managed to convince the professors in the monthly Perfects meeting, that the female population of this school, formal and fancy vocabulary had definitely been a strong part of her remarks, should be allowed to wear trousers whenever they wanted and felt like it.

She walked towards the Ravenclaw table and quickly filled her plate with pancakes doused in chocolate because well… who doesn't love chocolate? Her eyes roamed the blurry Dining Hall. Man, she really should start using her wire-framed glasses, the ones that were an identical pair to his. They had bought them so as to match when they were still friends. Before he ruined everything.

There he was. The beautiful, arrogant blurry bastard. She would recognise his curly hair and mischievous dark green eyes paired with his scarred face glory. Damn him and his annoying good looks. And when the hell did her eyesight get that bad? Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, which was again his fault. She could proudly say, though, that she was still squinting and glaring at the world as she always did. And everything was right. Until…

"My God, you are so tight. And so perfectly marked up. Everyone should know who you belong to, don't you think?" He said as his hand travelled upwards, one of her thighs. Moving easily as all her previous orgasms slid down her legs. All courtesy of his mouth, of course. "I love seeing you like this. I never thought that fucking your brains out until you are senseless would be such an easy way to shut you up."

… she remembered that and choked on her treacherous hot chocolate.

"Well, well, the she-devil just choked on her hot chocolate? Is it because your body detests anything sweet? " his voice called out. That deep, still slightly raspy and sleepy voice that made his Welsh accent stand out more prominently. She hated that voice, she thought, yet her body betrayed her and shivered, as if it was somehow remembering all that fantastic, imaginary, things it supposedly whispered in her skin.

Oohs and aahs echoed in the room, accompanied by chuckles and whispers, praising his "sick burn."

"You know what, Lupin? I always thought you were a pretentious piece of shit, but I never thought you were so self-centered to actually call yourself indirectly sweet. Is it one of those days of the month where you need a little confidence boost?", I called back as I finished eating and stood up from my seat.

A fuming Remus was the last thing I saw as I exited the room. Now, every member of the school faculty was laughing because of my comeback.

Lost in thought I walked towards the Ravenclaw Tower, and then felt an arm grasping my wrist and pining me into the wall, despite driving my elbow into said attacker in his nose, stomach (were those abs? Who was she kidding of course her attacker would have abs) and well … dick. But they didn't react at all as if those blows, who should have winded the air out of someone. Except- right lycanthropy super strength bullshit.

"You think that was funny?" He said in a deathly quiet tone, as if he wanted to murder me on the spot… or fuck me against the wall? Okay, now she was just self projecting.

"I think it was hilarious."

"Sometime you are going to learn to respect me, foxy?"

"Sure, when Hell freezes over."

"You know, you remind me of those foxes and black cats. They consider themselves so smart and mean, yet they are unaware of the danger they will face because of it. "

"And you are the danger? Climb off your high horse Lupin." I whisper in his face. Our lips only mere centimeters apart.

words: 900 (should I continue this?)

[theabyssgazesalsointoyou]

i'm sure nobody's gonna understand what the fuck i'm talking about but here is my vision for a korean bmc au

so first off: while i think jake is a humanities person, the overachiever stereotype in korea is 'stem kid aiming for med school' because med schools have this like. ridiculously high status above literally anything else. therefore he has to be in stem in this au. he would also do like 17492847 extracurricular activities to fill up his report card obviously. he's head of the student council, in the orchestra and like 5 different academic clubs (a couple of which he's the head of) and a sports club. i'm thinking badminton?? or basketball. also he's the uhhh what the fuck would you call 선도부 in english...... so there's this official school organization that like monitors rules like dress codes and study hall and stuff. i just looked it up and apparently prefect is the closest match. anyway he's definitely head of that and absolutely not strict about it lmao he never actually gives people demerits over stuff (part of the reason why rich can get away with so much shit) he's always dressed in perfect uniform down to the vest and blazer and everything.

speaking of rich, this guy definitely has his hair bleached which is so against the dress code but he does not give a fuck. unbuttoned shirt and piercings and loose tie (if he has one at all). he's just the classic korean bully stereotype. i think he'd be in a soccer club for some reason, mayyybe a school band too. also (this isn't really a thing anymore at least as far as i know?? but who cares bmc isn't realistic anyway) there's this thing called 빵셔틀 which is a bully forcing some kid to buy stuff from the school store for them and he totally does this to jeremy change my mind

chloe is that mean girl who's head of the dance club and pretends to be all nice. she's friendly with all the teachers so she never actually gets in trouble for bullying. like she doesn't follow the dress code and bleaches her hair and wears too much makeup and the teachers always point this out but they like her too much to actually be mad about it. she's totally one of those girls walks around with those stupid fuckass giant hair rollers in her bangs 😭

brooke i think would also be a prefect and in the student council. she's giving one of those overachiever popular kids who isn't necessarily mean herself but associates herself far too much with the mean girls to be actually considered nice. the teachers absolutely love her though. she's in the dance club with chloe of course and maybe the broadcasting club too?? either broadcasting or the orchestra (she plays the flute).

jenna however is 100% in broadcasting. the thing about broadcasting club is that the workload is really heavy, maybe even heavier than student council, and the hierarchy is usually super strict. so she's probably the one who's bossed around and ends up doing all the hard work. if brooke is also in broadcasting you can see the dynamics there. jenna also runs the anonymous school confession page which definitely contributes to how she knows everything about everyone lol

christine is in the drama club but i think she'd also be in the library club. because here's the thing, in the us the 'theatre kid' stereotype is that they're weird and quirky and whatever but it's kinda the opposite in korea. people in the drama club are pretty popular and there's always a lot of. well. drama and power play going on. i honestly don't think it fits christine that much but i can't take away theatre from her soooo,,, library on the other hand is perfect. she'd totally hang out in the library all the time and chat with the librarian and stuff. oh and she always wears gym pants underneath her skirt in true korean high school girl fashion that is peak christine

i don't think either jeremy or michael would be in any clubs. jeremy mostly has a 'stay out of trouble' mindset and wears the school cardigan over a perfectly buttoned shirt and everything while michael just goes 'fuck the dress code' and wears his hoodie every day. the teachers probably gave up on trying to call him out for it lmao.

i actually have no idea what would be the equivalent of menlo park mall but pinkberry is like... yogerpresso or yoajung. the former was popular in the 2000s while the latter is currently a Thing which means the bmc korean au takes place either in the early 2000s or 2020s. sbarros can be like fucking pizza school or something that would be hilarious

lastly i want you to know that in korean high schools you're either a humanities or stem student and you choose which subjects you're gonna take for the college entrance exam depending on which you are. and the reason i'm mentioning this is because this is a pretty big deal, like there are stereotypes for which combination of subjects you choose and shit. i would go into more of that but honestly i think it might be kinda boring idk,,?? gonna stop here for now

[tblsomedoodles]

If you don’t mind me asking, what traditional outfits would each turtle (family web au) like wearing?

I’m thinking like they have an outfit they specifically wear for a season (doesn’t have to be their favorite season just the season they wear it) or a social event.

Like Raph having this heavy layered with fake fur outfit for the winter. Idk I’m suppose to be sleeping right but I’m not, I’m thinking about turtles in fashionable clothing.

I'm actually really bad when it comes to fashion lol. (personally and with art. My idea of a cool outfit is when my hoodie and teeshirt match fandoms lol)

But i've got a few doodles of some types of things they would wear on like normal days.

Donnie pretty much lives in teeshirts and like those really comfy jeans that fit perfectly along. If he wears his jacket unless the weather is very much against it. He wears more protective clothing when he's working on mechines and the like. Usually overalls with at least a teeshirt, though he'll wear longer sleeves and gloves if he's doing something particularly dangerous. Winter, he has his regular jacket, a lighter winter jacket and a hat and boots. He doesn't like wearing scarfs or particularly bulky clothing, especially if he's working.

Mikey, on the other hand, loves bulky clothing. Bulky and patched and basically anything with some personality to it.

Leo will do either bulky shorts or skinny jeans, there's no inbetween. Usually some sort of tank top/sports jersey. He doesn't really like the cold, so his winter clothing is being bundled up to the point the only thing you can see is his eyes. Also a long ass scarf b/c he like how weird it is.

Raph actually dresses fairly nicely once Mama got him clothes tailored to him. (he was excited to finally be able to wear stuff that wouldn't rip the second he put it on). But for a while he wears button up shirts with vests and nice pants b/c he liked the way it looked and he hadn't worn anything like that before without destroying it. FOr winter he wears a lighter jacket than the rest, a scarf, and some earmuffs : )

for fancy parties, i'm not entirely sure. I think Mikey would wear as bright of colors as he could. Raph would wear something nice but not particularly standout-ish. Donnie something very basic without a tie or bowtie (b/c i don't think he likes fabric wrapped around his neck.) Leo is a bit of a gamble. He's either wearing the most eyecatching thing he could get his hands on, or he somehow got away with wearing sweatpants in protest. Depends on how agreeable he's feeling about said party lol.

Anyways, Thank you!!

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 9

Okay so I may have gotten a bit lazy with posting to tumblr, but I figured I ought to so. Ye.

Pt 1. Pt.8 Ao3

---------

Red Hood doesn't get nervous. Not when on mission, not when delegating his criminal empire, not when the Batman pokes his nose in his business, not even when all his plans are failing in a spectacular fireworks show. Because he knew he always had a way out. He had met death and come back. He had tangled with the nastiest foes the universe had to offer. No. No Red Hood didn't get nervous. Jason Todd though?

Well maybe he did.

No matter what he did to calm his nerves, anxiety continued to prickle at his skin. It's just a date right? No reason to be nervous. He would take Danny to get a quick dinner at his favorite diner, then they'd go to this big party at the Gotham Planetarium. It was simple. No way to mess it up.

But what if Danny had an allergic reaction to something at the diner? What if the event was too stuffy and boring? What if they hung out in person and Danny decided he didn't actually like Jason in that way? God, what if Jason said something that comes off a bit too stalker-y or murder-y? Well he had stalked them hadn't he? What if that drove them off?

The thought spiral was cut off as Jason splashed water onto his face.

No. Can't think like that. he sighed as he reached for a towel. Tonight's going to be fine he assured himself. no. Not fine, amazing.

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

Danny's heart couldn't stop racing as he stood on the outside steps of his building. Well, more of beat at a normal-for-humans-pace, but the point remains; He was excited, to say the least. Despite the whole week having drug on and on, the day had passed in a blur. Wake up, classes, lunch, get ready for the date- which honestly proved much easier than expected. The event flyer had said 'formal dress code' and well, Danny didn't have many formal clothes so the choices were easy to choose from.

He'd scrounged up some black slacks, to pair with his dark blue dress shirt, patterned with gold constellations, which matched with his gold half moon earrings. Both had been birthday gifts from Jazz. Completed with a simple black tie and jacket, Danny was really proud of his outfit. He'd even managed to find an ironing board to use!

All this paled in comparison when Jason arrived.

Ancients, this man was gorgeous.

The incessant beating in his chest, that had been driving Danny nuts for the past hour, finally died down as his heart literally stopped for the man who was now climbing off his parked motorcycle. Danny couldn't help but admire him. His dark grey suit was perfectly tailored, and he moved with such smooth ease it was almost hypnotic.

His breath caught in his throat as Jason finally reached the top of the steps, although that may have been his ghost sense.

"Evening," Jason said as he pressed a kiss to Danny's hand, "you ready to go?" Ancients Danny was going to die again.

"Yup," he responded as Jason led him to the motorcycle.

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

Okay so the problem is: that diner that Jason wanted to take Danny to? Yeah it got robbed last night, and maybe slightly blown up in the process.... but it's okay because there'll be food at the event right? It's fine. Except it's fancy rich people food, hmmm. So they got fast food instead. It was nice. Danny didn't seem too upset by the change of plans and the conversation flowed easily between them as they shared fries.

He was absolutely everything. Jason loved Danny's laugh. The way his eyes would sparkle, almost glow, under the right lighting. The sound of his voice as he regaled Jason with stories of his friends. And he couldn't get over Danny's freckles, spattered across his face and down his neck.

Jason would readily admit that he had been stunned when he first saw Danny standing on those steps. He seemed the pinnacle of style, it had made Jason a bit self conscious of his own boring grey suit.

He'd had to take a moment to gather himself before he'd climbed the stairs to meet him. Danny had blushed when he had taken his hand. Jason loved that too.

The rest of the date would go perfectly, he'd make sure of it.

While galas weren't exactly his thing, Jason had never been fond of them even when he was legally alive and living with Bruce, this one was amazing. And it wasn't the rich party goers, or the live music, or the fancy rich people food. Most of it came from the way Danny's eyes lit up upon entering the observatory. The man was practically bursting at the seams as his eyes flit from the star charts on the walls, to the various astronomical instruments littered about the room, until they finally zeroed in on the giant telescope at the center of the room.

Jason let himself get dragged around as Danny ranted about one thing or another.

"I've been following this comet all month, Harington-Abel was actually one of the first comets I observed. I was almost six at the time. It comes by every seven or eight years and I always make the time to see it." Danny said, a fond smile gracing his lips as he turned to Jason. "Thank you for taking me here."

Jason just squeezed the hand that had yet to let go of his, offering a smile of his own. "No problem," he whispered.

Danny's grin grew wider as he launched into another explanation on the comets history. The night went perfectly.

Until it didn't.

It should have been expected really, being in Gotham and all, but Jason was still caught off guard when the shots rang out. And when the crowds began to surge he hadn't been able to keep ahold of Danny. Within minutes the two were separated.

Damnit, this was supposed to be his night off. Oh well, looks like Hood would have to rock the shit out of whichever of Gotham's rouges gallery had decided to crash his date.

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

The room was in a panic. Danny had lost Jason and had to turn slightly intangible to avoid getting stampeded. Luckily, floor space became much more abundant as party goers fled. Unluckily, those who remained in the ballroom found themselves staring down the barrels of several very big, very scary, guns.

"This is a hostage situation!" Someone yelled, "everyone sit your asses down and put your hand on your heads!"

Oddly enough, most of the party goers only looked mildly annoyed as they followed orders. Danny considered not complying for a moment, but then one of the goons pointed a gun at him and growled. Danny decided he didn't feel like getting shot today, because while it wouldn't kill him, it would still hurt like a bitch, and he didn't want to worry Jason. Ancients, Jason. I hope he got out, or is at least safe.

Danny craned his neck to search the room but came up with nothing.

"Alright! Everyone empty your pockets, put any valuables in a pile in front of you! No funny business, ya hear?" The same man from earlier called.

Honestly, there were probably smarter things to do, but see, Danny is what we in the business like to call; an idiot? Which is why he didn't move to take out his wallet, unlike everyone else in the room. Unfortunately this did not go unnoticed, evident by the way a goon stomped over to him, crouched, and stuck the barrel of their gun under Danny's chin.

"Fork it over pretty boy," They growled, their smile not reaching their eyes. Danny noted how they were missing a considerable amount of teeth. He voiced that observation. (See this is why we call him an idiot).

The goon seethed, anger flaring in their eyes as the gripped the front of Danny’s shirt. "Why I Oughta-"

"Oof," Danny cut them off, having caught a whiff if their horrendous breath, "when was the last time you brushed your teeth dude?"

It was at this moment that Danny knew: he fucked up. Silently he cursed himself for his lack of filter, and/or sense of self preservation. Oh well, sorry Jason. If Danny's getting shot he may aswell punch a few people.

"What's that?" He exclaimed, staring pointedly at something behind the goons back; grinning when they turned to look. Danny took the opening, landing a solid blow to their face which sent them careening to the ground. He winced at the sickening popping sound, wondering for half a moment if he had put too much strength into that punch.

The room suddenly filled with shouting once more and Danny knew he would need to move fast if he was going to avoid unnecessary casualties. Although it had been awhile since he'd fought living people, his core thrummed with the promise of a fight.

Duck. weave. move. Punch. It all came easily, he didn't even have to transform or use any of his more ghostly powers.

One guy came charging at him, yelling and brandishing his gun like a club. Danny simply took a step to the side and let the behemoth of a man crash into his cohorts. He ducked another swing at his head and swept another's feet out form under them. Someone grabbed him from behind and Danny bit that motherfucker's hand, hard.

"GET THIS GUY OFF OF ME!" The man screamed as he tried pulling away, but Danny held tight.

Someone else- fuck how many of these people are there?- grabbed Danny by the waist and pulled him off the man who would probably never have a career in hand modeling after this.

Danny scrambled In the person's grasp, kicking, clawing, and biting at anything he could reach. His foot connected with something soft, followed by a wheeze, causing the grip around his torso to lessen enough for Danny to squirm out. He turned In time to see his aggressor curl up on the floor, tears streaming down their face.

"Fucking Hell!" Danny screamed as something tore through his calf. Great, the idiots remembered they have guns, Danny thought, sparing a glance to survey the damage. He'd probably be fine, the bullet had only grazed him, but it would hurt like a bitch for a few days at least.

Like a demon straight from hell itself, Danny went after the remaining goons. In a matter of minutes, the fight was over.

"Damn, that felt good. Everyone okay?" He called, surveying the room for any sign of injury, or Jason. Danny kind of hoped he hadn't seen that, might scare the man off, and he had been getting fond of him too. Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you see it) Jason was not in the crowd of faces in the main ballroom where the fight had taken place.

Some of the hostages managed to break their shock enough to help Danny tie up the bad guys and toss them in a pile near the center of their room. Danny was just about to toss the last guy on said pile when his ghost sense did that half sense thing like when-

"Jason?" He called.

Instead, Red Hood burst through the doors, pistols at the ready. "Alright, which one of you fuckers decided to ruin my evening because I swear to fuck-" He stopped short at the sight displayed before him. He lowered his pistols as he took it in. "What the-" Finally his gaze landed on Danny.

"Oh, hi again!" Danny beamed, shifting the guys weight so he could wave at Hood. "Sorry for the uh- mess. None of them are dead though so don't worry."

There was a long pause, Danny almost flat uncomfortable with the way Red Hood was staring at him. Finally, the vigilante broke the silence.

"You have blood on your face." The unbothered tone stunned Danny for a second before he wiped at his face.

"Probably from that guy's hand," he responded, gesturing at the man he had bitten who was currently at the bottom of the pile.

Hood chuckled at that, a creepy sound coming through the modulator. "Sick," he said before turning on his heel and matching right back out the door. "Looks like you've got this covered so imma head out."

"Well bye then, I guess."

Then Hood was gone.

.

.

.

A few hours of police questioning later, Danny finally found Jason sitting on the steps outside. Apparently he had been swept out the door in the stampede of people and had spent the whole time worrying about Danny who found it incredibly sweet.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he plopped down and leaned against Jason's (incredibly muscular) shoulder.

"Sorry about such a terrible first date."

"Don't sweat it man, this isn't the worst date I've been on." Danny replied, turning to face his date, "Besides, I had fun. Y'know before the hostage situation bits."

Jason chuckled at that. A win in Danny's book. Ancients, Jason has a nice smile.

"Alright let's get you home, it's been a long night,"

"Ugh I don't want to get up," Danny bemoaned as the other stood, taking his shoulder with.

"Come on," Jason laughed pulling at Danny's arm. He groaned more but allowed Jason to pull him to his feet. Danny hissed suddenly at a sharp pain in his leg before falling forward into Jason's arms.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Danny winced as he shifted his weight, damn he'd be sore tomorrow. "Nothing, got grazed by a stray bullet is all," he said, but quickly hurried on when worry washed over the other man's face. "Don't worry I got the paramedics to check it, it should be fine in a few days so long as I keep it clean." Danny of course, hadn't talked to the paramedics, he had, in fact, been avoiding them. But Jason didn't need to know that.

Jason frowned but seemingly accepted the answer nonetheless. "Alright," he said. Danny smiled at him.

"See it's fine, I can even walk," Danny said moving to take a step. But as if by some cruel joke from the gods, he tripped. He fell for only a moment before Jason caught him and pulled him back.

"Deja vu," he smirked. Danny felt heat brush at his cheeks just as his feet were swept from beneath him.

"I can walk you know," he pouted but didn't struggle as Jason carried him to his bike.

"Yeah I'm sure that why you fell after one step."

Danny humbled indignantly in lieu of a proper response as he was deposited on the leather seat.

"Beside I feel kind of responsible for getting you home safe after this whole debacle. I mean it's my fault you were here and all." Something warm bloomed in Danny's chest as he accepted the helmet Jason gave him.

Danny didn't stop smiling the entire way home. Jason walked him all the way to his dorm. They parted with promises to do this again, minus all the hostage-y bits.

All things considered, it was a really good date.

Pt. 10

[misslavenderlady]

Could you do more Marko X Reader fics? You can make it as filthy as possible. I live reading your work <3

Teacher's Pet 📏

Marko/GN!Reader

Summary: Marko has a new, fun game in mind for you. One that will test your vampire knowledge and your tolerance for pain. You show him all the hard things you can take~

Thank you @american-idiot-jpg for the request! I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy this! Also big thank you to @ghoulgeousimmaculate for helping pull me out of my writing funk and put this together!!

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, Professor/Student Roleplay, Costumes, Teasing, Flirting, Dom/Sub, Spanking, Fingering, Punishment/Reward, Sex on a desk, Bent over, Rough Sex, Praise, Affection, Blood Drinking, No specific genitalia/pronouns used

Marko was a sneaky little thing. Though he had a very chaotic energy to him, he was actually quite methodical. Whenever he was in the mood to play one of his devious little games, he was sure to set up everything exactly how he wanted it. 

So when you found a particularly lewd costume laid across your bed, you knew he was ready to play with you. 

It wasn't much material to wear. A small, white crop top that tied in the front, a red, plaid-patterned tie, some matching shorts, and a pair of black knee-high socks to go with some plain loafers. Before you even put it on you knew that the outfit wasn't going to leave much to the imagination. 

You knew better than to complain though. Marko always got what he wanted, and if he desired to see you dressed like his own personal plaything, then so be it. With your body barely covered, you wandered through the cave taverns to find the play area Marko loved so much. You only hoped none of the other vampires would see you and make vulgar comments on your appearance. 

Marko's special room was blocked off by a thick, red, velvet curtain. This time around there was a unique addition. A small sign pinned to one of the sides.

Professor Marko

Subtle as a flying mallet, that one. At least you had all the clues you needed to play along with his game. As you pushed the curtain aside, you only hoped he'd play nice with you. 

"Come in."

Marko's voice was surprisingly serious in tone. You thought about how unlike him it was until you got a look at what he was wearing. 

His usual leather chaps and elaborate jacket had been traded for a button-down shirt and khakis. His hair was tied back and on the bridge of his nose sat a pair of reading glasses. While he leaned up against an antique writing desk he glanced down at a book in his hand. It was almost like looking at a version of Marko from an alternate universe. One where he was a strict, studious guy and not a vampire hoodlum. 

Still, even with his getup, a familiar, wild look was burning in his eyes when he caught sight of you. 

“Have a seat, dear,” Marko ordered. “We don’t have time to dawdle. Your exam is in a week, and we don’t want to fail, do we?”

You gulped audibly as he pulled up a plain, wooden chair for you to sit in. He really did have the stage set for this little performance you two were going to put on. It made your heart race with fear and anticipation. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you nodded and made your way over to him, sitting down immediately. 

Now you felt even more vulnerable. Your shorts were riding up a bit, showing off the length of your legs and thighs. Sitting down allowed Marko to drink in more of you, gazing with pure authority and power in his eyes. He truly was in control.

Marko enjoyed watching you squirm. The rapid thrum of your heart sounded so lovely in his ears. He kept his gaze trained on you as he strolled over to the antique black chalkboard and picked up the dusty white stalk. 

“Our subject matter is lore,” he informed as he began scrawling on the panel, “in relation to vampirism…so tell me, how does one become a vampire?” He asked with his hands clasped behind his back. He stared at you, patiently awaiting your answer.

You had to admit, you were impressed. He really did think of everything. Probably went by the local thrift shop for his props. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. You knew everything about vampires considering you had been the mate of one for so long now. With your posture straightening up a bit, you confidently answered his question.

“There are two different ways to become a vampire, Sir,” you explained. “The first is by drinking a vampire's blood and completing a first feed and kill of a human. The second is by getting a direct bite and having your bloodstream corrupted.”

Marko jotted your answer on the board, smirking at the inflection of confidence that appeared in your voice. He could tell you thought you had this in the bag, being his mate for years now, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve. He wanted you to get cocky so that he could cut you down at just the right time. 

“Very good! I’m pleased you remember that core piece of information, but tell me, what’s the relevance of religious objects to a vampire?”

“Religious objects are dangerous to vampires. Holy water burns the skin in small doses and melts it in large ones. The sign of the cross does nothing, but an actual cross will hurt a vampire. If you’re invited in somewhere, then they do no damage, but otherwise, they’re deadly.”

You wondered what other questions Marko had in store. Maybe this whole teacher scenario was a way to praise you and make you feel extra good. Perhaps the sadistic vampire was feeling a little generous this time around. Of course, that was an incredibly naive thought to have. You had no idea what deviant thoughts were circling around in that head of his. 

Marko stifled a chuckle, jotting down the answer to your second question. He turned to face you, leaning against his desk once more as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Excellent work!” He praised. “You appear to be an expert. Perhaps you can answer this question for me—true or false, according to the Ancient Greeks, vampires can cross salt water.”

In a mere moment, your confidence was drained. Your smile fell and your eyes widened as panic overtook your brain. Marko and the boys hadn’t ever mentioned anything about salt water. This had to be a trick question. 

All five of you lived by the ocean, meaning they were around salt water all the time. Surely they wouldn’t live in a seaside city if they were at risk of not getting around properly. The power of flight wouldn’t be stopped by a mere body of water….right?

“Um….it’s….true?”

Marko smirked, his Cheshire grin widening as his stern expression cracked. 

“It’s false.” Marko tutted as he strolled towards you. “Water is an interesting topic in vampire lore. The Ancient Greeks believed vampires couldn’t cross running water. In a legend, all vampires were banished to an island, to be trapped for eternity. The Romani believed vampires couldn’t pass over water in general. In Transylvania, a common funeral practice was to walk the deceased through a river or stream to prevent the soul from following living so reanimation could not occur.”

You had no idea Marko was so versatile in different vampire lore from all over the world. From the moment you stepped into the ‘classroom’ you assumed it would all be a test on actual vampire facts. There was so much you didn’t know about cultural beliefs on the monsters you had gotten to know personally. 

“I didn’t know. I….I’m sorry…” you said, feeling somewhat dumb now. What would your mate do since you got the answer wrong? You were already trembling in your skimpy little uniform.

“Let’s play a game, dear,” Marko proposed. “Studies say that learning through play is a highly effective strategy. I will continue to quiz you on your knowledge of vampirism and lore, and for every question that’s correct, you’ll receive a reward. But—” He paused for dramatic effect. “For every question that’s incorrect, you’ll receive a spanking. So if you’ll please, assume the position,” he ordered, gesturing to his desk. 

If your heart wasn’t racing before, it certainly was now. Marko was acting like the sneaky little thing you knew and loved. You squeezed your thighs together, rubbing them as you felt the beginning hints of arousal rush through your body. The idea of being bent over and punished by his hand was as exciting as it was scary. 

You would play along with this game, and do your best with each question. Whatever he wanted to do with your body depended on how well you did. With a needy, innocent look in your eyes, you nodded in acceptance. 

“Y-Yes…Sir…”

Marko hummed as he watched you cross the room and lean over his desk, his eyes on your ass and thighs. The pants he had worn for his costume were already feeling quite tight in the front.

“That’s it, little one,” he cooed. “I’ll make a model student out of you, yet…bend over and spread ‘em wide…” He glided to his desk, grabbing a 36-inch long wooden yardstick along the way. He stood behind you, slapping the yardstick over his palm to get a reaction. He chuckled heartily when he saw you flinch. 

“Now, next question,” Marko purred as he ran the wooden tool up the inside of your leg, enjoying the sight of you shivering in fear. “True or False, decapitation is an effective way of slaying a vampire.”

It was incredibly difficult to think straight when the massive stick was running along your bare skin. Corporal punishment was most certainly not in schools anymore, but Marko didn’t seem to care. If he had the opportunity to mix pain and pleasure with you, he would take the chance without a second thought. 

You took a shaky breath as you tried your best to focus. This was a more of something you knew. The boys told stories about vampires they knew that had met an unfortunate demise. If there was no head, that meant the body was no longer any danger. Surely this question was straightforward with the answer.

“T-True!”

Marko chuckled, leaning forward to whisper into your ear. “Neither.” 

“What?” 

“It is neither true nor false. In fiction, decapitation is a suitable method for dispatching a vampire. In life, a few of our friends had died in the very same way, but in folklore, decapitation is merely a part of the process. An additional precaution after staking or other methods of dispatch. Take Lucy Westerna in Dracula, for example. The poor maiden was killed after being staked in the heart, but Van Helsing removed her head to be safe.” 

“Another example,” Marko continued, “is a shoemaker in sixteen century Poland, formerly known as Breslau. The man committed suicide, but after burial, the townspeople were plagued by his presence. He appeared to them at night, assaulting them in their beds. When his body was exhumed, they saw that after having been buried for over seven months, his body had not decayed. They reburied him, thinking that would resolve the issue, but he still appeared to them at night. He stopped haunting his hometown only after his head and limbs were removed.” 

“So…that means you’re wrong, little one.” Marko giggled, jutting his arm back to strike you on your bottom. He lingered in the air a few moments to watch your squirm before bringing the wood down with a thwack!

Your body jolted when the stick hit your skin. The flimsy pair of shorts were not protecting you from any pain at all, meaning you felt the full force of the impact. The flesh of your ass jiggled from the hit, giving Marko a very pleasant sight while you were dealing with the pain. It was so sharp and rough. If this was awaited you with every wrong question, you were going to have to step up your game. 

“I-I’m sorry, Sir!” you whimpered. “I’ll do better, I promise!” 

Sadistic chuckling greeted your ears. Even with the pain, you felt yourself rubbing your thighs together again. Marko really knew how to put your body through intense sensations. 

“I forgive you,” Marko crooned as he rubbed your bottom with his palm. “But if you want to pass this exam, you must focus.” 

You nodded, quietly muttering your agreement. Marko stepped back, perching himself in your chair. He crossed his legs, taking in the glorious view of your ass hiked in the air over his desk. He would love to fuck you over the antique cherrywood. But he’d save that for later.

“Next question,” Marko cooed as he tapped the yardstick against the leg of his chair. “True or False, vampires must sleep in coffins.”

Relief washed over you with that question. You watched the boys sleep every day. You KNEW this one, and you weren’t going to let Marko punish you again for something so obvious. 

“False! They can hang from the ceiling much like bats,” you answered, trying your best to sound confident. “So long as it’s somewhere dark where the sunlight won’t harm them during the day.”

Your body was trembling terribly as Marko taunted you with the tapping of his stick. Even if you knew the answer was correct, you still mentally prepared for the slap against your ass again if this was another trick question.

The tapping ceased and you froze, keening your head to the side to listen for his movements. But you heard nothing, the vampire moving with a speed and grace left you terrified and confused. You didn’t know where he was or whether you were right or wrong until you felt his hands on your body. 

You yelped, nearly jumping out of your skin when you felt his hands on legs. He gave your ass a slap, but it was playful not punitive. You jiggled and Marko snickered. His titter was light hearted and free from sadism. You had a feeling that you were in the clear, but with Marko’s unpredictability, you weren’t sure. 

“Good job, little one,” Marko praised as his fingers grabbed the hem of your shorts. “You are correct…looks like you earned a treat.” 

He pulled your pants down, exposing your bottom to the crisp air of the cave’s alcove. Prodding at your cheeks, Marko explored your body until he found your orifice. His fingers were slick with something warm and wet, no doubt his favorite brand of lube being used. That warmth teased you more as he began to slip a finger inside of you. 

"O-Oh!" you gasped. Marko softly chuckled at your reaction. He knew your body better than anybody in the world, and he proved it as such when he crooked his finger to massage your insides. Your muscles relaxed and your voice let out a sigh as he touched you. He practically had you purring like a kitten.

“There’s my good baby~” he praised you. “My devoted little pupil. If you keep it up with the next question, I’ll be more than happy to give you more of this good touch.”

This time you didn’t answer him with your voice. You simply nodded, ready for more of what he had to offer. Whether the test would be hard or easy, you didn’t care in the slightest. You were just going to give it your all and chase that sweet high of pleasure some more.

Marko smiled as you cooed and sighed from his ministrations. He enjoyed toying with your body, feeling you pulse around him. The only thing that delighted him more was tearing into a throbbing vein or artery. 

“Next question,” Marko continued with your quiz. “True or False, vampires are compelled to count millet when spilled?”

Another easy one. You thought such an idea was laughable. Getting vampires to start counting as a way to stop an attack. But you bit back your giggle in favor of another moan. The power of his fingers was just too strong.

"Mmmn…false, Sir~" 

You arched your back as you pressed your hips closer to your 'professor'. If he kept this up you were going to be a happy little teacher's pet. 

“Very good, my dear,” Marko praised. “You’re on your way to an A plus. Now, let’s see if you can answer this one,” he questioned as he pumped his fingers. “Is Count Von Count from Sesame Street based on the the piece of folklore we just discussed?”

You paused, thinking deeply about the question. You weren’t too sure about this one, but if you used context clues in relation to the name and the concept, it seemed obvious that is was. 

“Y-yes?” You replied hesitantly. 

Marko tutted, ceasing his movements and removing his hand. You whined audibly. Your insides feeling empty and neglect from his retreat. 

“Sadly, the answer is ‘No,’” Marko replied with a sigh before stuffing his fingers in his mouth. He lapped away the edible lube, savoring the strawberry taste mixed with your signature flavor before carelessly wiping his hand on his khakis. Leaning forward, he retrieved the yardstick from his desk and raised it into the air. 

“The Count is based on Bela Lugosi’s design and performance, but it’s never been explicitly said on screen that he was a vampire. The Count’s compulsion with counting and numbers is also purely coincidence.” 

Your body tensed in preparation for impact. Of course Marko would pull the rug under you with that obvious trap or a question. You would hit yourself in frustration if your mate wasn't about to do it for you. 

"And speaking of counting," Marko remarked, still holding the stick to keep your anticipation high. "If you count these next spanks out for me like a good little student, I'll skip ahead to the bonus question."

Knowing Marko, that could mean DOZENS of spanks. You were shaking terribly on top of the desk, wanting nothing more than to get this torture over with. 

"B-Bonus question?"

"Yes, darling. It determines how I'm gonna fuck you. Sweet and giving or…"

Smack!

The yardstick hit your ass with a mighty strike. A yipe fell from your mouth from the fright of both the sound and sensation. 

"Hard and rough," Marko finished his sentence, voice dripping with wickedness. "So get to counting, my little pupil~"

“Y-yes, Sir!” You muttered into the wood, eager and prepared to please despite your fear. 

Marko raised the yardstick again and swiftly brought the thick piece of wood down with a hefty Smack! 

“Aah! One!” You replied immediately, grunting your answer through the stinging pain. 

He raised his arm one more and delivered another blow, forcing another moan from your lips. “Ugh! Two!”

Marko worked you over, punishing you with a twinkle of sadistic glee in his eyes. You counted, crying out in pain in between each delivery. But like a good student, you completed your task, the experience ending with you panting into the wood. Your bottom was tender and flushed, with thick welts forming on the surface. 

You were in great pain, but as you rubbed your thighs together, you felt pleasure. A lust for him to take you. You couldn’t go on like this. Whether he fucked you or made love to you, you needed him inside you. 

“Final question. Where did the idea that vampires did not hold a reflection first come from?

It was hard enough catching your breath after crying out for Marko with each spank. Now you had to get your brain to cooperate with you so that this final question could be answered. You forced yourself to relax. Focus. Really think about this. 

Reflections. The boys didn’t have reflections in places they weren’t invited. When they were invited and they could blend in as humans, then the reflections appeared. That was a fact, but Marko wanted to test you on the lore of it. God, you wished you had done more reading in your freetime. 

Thinking back to when you and the boys watched the iconic Bela Lugosi film for movie night, you thought about Dracula’s powers and weaknesses. In one scene, he slapped a box out of Van Helsing’s hand because it contained a mirror that showed no reflection. If that happened in the book it was based on, then that meant Bram Stoker originally created the idea. 

It was a total shot in the dark. You had no idea if other writers or cultures had proposed such an idea earlier in history. Better give it the old college try. 

“B-Bram Stoker…” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight and waiting for Marko to tell you whether you passed or failed.

Marko pursed his lips as he eyed your trembling form. He was a little salty that you were holding your own. He was hoping you’d bomb miserably so he could have his way with you. He wasn’t in the mood for tenderness even though that was one of your options. So he decided to exploit a little loophole… 

“Mirrors are an interesting thing in vampire lore,” Marko mused. “The first documented instance of vampires not casting a reflection does in fact appear in Dracula. But there are some folk tales that predate Bram Stoker that relate vampires to mirrors.” 

“Mirrors don’t just reflect our physical visage, little one,” Marko continued. “Many cultures relate the mirror to superstition and the human soul—which is why it is common for the mirror to be covered after a loved one passes. In Romani culture, it’s believed that a corpse could turn into a vampire if a mirror is present. But nothing is explicitly said about the reflection. So, the mirror appears in lore before Dracula was published, but Draculal solidified it as a rule.” 

“You’re both correct and incorrect.” 

“What does that even mean?!” You gasped in confusion. 

“That means we both get what we want~”

Before you even had a moment to process his answer, Marko had his hands on you. His fingers grabbed at your hips, pulling you backward so you were pressed up against his body. Long, thick claws sliced into your shorts, tearing away the fabric so that you were completely exposed to him. 

Marko was positively insatiable. His long tongue licked across his lips in hunger while his eyes drank in your delicious-looking ass. He couldn’t stop himself from kneading the flesh. You whimpered softly when you felt his erection rub up against your body. 

“You seem to do well with praise, my little one. But you need discipline to become the star pupil I know you can be~” 

The vampire unzipped his pants with one hand while squeezing at your ass with the other. A lustful moan fell from his lips as his hard, aching cock was freed. He had been aching to take you all night, and now he was going to get what he desired most. Though he was gentle slipping himself inside your lubed hole, that was the extent to the tenderness of his physical actions.

“If you can take this, then I know you can take on anything~” he purred before slamming his hips into you. You let out a yipe, not prepared to go so fast so soon. Without thinking, you grabbed hold onto the sides of the desk, and gripped as hard as you could.

Marko ruthlessly pistoned his hips into you, demonic growls of pleasure falling from his fanged lips. If you could see his face, you would tremble. The vampire’s visage was nightmarish. Marko’s mouth was contorted into a wicked smile while his eyes blazed brighter than any jack-o-lantern. 

He wasn’t Marko, your boyfriend, or even Marko the sadist. He was Marko, the monster and you were his plaything for the evening. 

But despite channeling his inner beast, he cooed the sweetest words as he ravaged you. Things romantics would whisper to their lovers in the throes of passion. It wasn’t completely odd to you though. Marko found beauty and passion in things that people would label barbaric.

“That’s it, love,” Marko crooned. “You look so beautiful like this…my perfect human~”

“Oh!! Ooooh!!” you cried out for him. 

Marko was a tough lover in every way imaginable. You would never fully get used to all the toys, roleplay and domination he loved to use on you. He was a viscious creature with decades of experience. It would take quite some time before you were caught up to even half his level.

And even so, you took it all eagerly. You let him do to your body as he wished. Whatever games he wanted to play would be taken on. He could control you from the inside out and always crave more. As long as you had his heart in return, you accepted him for who he was.

“My darling little one….fuck…my precious love…soooo perfect~” he purred. 

His sweet nothings didn’t match his movements though. Certainly not when he grabbed a fistfull of your hair and pulled it hard. You cried out as he forced you upward more, wanting you nice and close as he fucked your brains out.  

”I adore every little thought in that head, amore mio~”

Another yank to your hair was given, tugging sideways so your bare neck was exposed for the vampire. An eerie chuckle greeted your ears as he ran his inhuman tongue over your flesh, teasing the veins underneath. 

“Let me cherish you. WORSHIP you. I’d perish without you~”

Marko sank fangs into your throat. His pearly white sharpened canines punctured your tender flesh, freeing thick rivulets of crimson that ran down your shoulder. You mewled in pain, but your whine quickly shifted into a sultry moan as Marko snapped his hips. He massaged a tender spot deep inside you. One engorged ridge that made you see stars. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your mouth hung slack. Marko fed from you, pulling your life’s nectar from your body. You swayed on your feet as a high hit you. The sense that you were floating set in. That sensation coupled with the ministrations of Marko’s brutal pace nudged you closer to the edge. That peak where you’d tip over into the abyss. 

“F-FUCK! Master…~” You whined as you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, holding the pouty flesh hostage in between your teeth. 

Feeling your body get closer and closer to the release was enough to push Marko towards his own. He unlatched himself from your neck and lapped at the last drops of blood as he kept railing you into the desk. 

"Gonna cum for me, little one? Cum for your teacher and show me what devoted student you are?" he cooed. You nodded feverishly, causing him to smile so wickedly. 

"I knew you were a good pupil. Come on, little love. Cum with me! Do it!!" 

His command hit you like a goddamn truck. Your back arched against his chest and your head fell backwards. All of your limbs tensed up and your stomach contracted as the rush of orgasm consumed you. Pathetic cries mixed with his low moans. It was a truly beautiful sight. 

"M-Marko!! Ooh my god~!!" you whimpered. The sweetness of your orgasm was already making quite the mess on the desk below you. It only turned Marko on more. 

“If I could stay inside you for eternity, I would,” Marko cooed as he eyed the mess. “I love the masterpieces you make….” 

Marko bucked into you one last time. He exploded inside you, his release bathing your insides with a flood of warmth in your lower belly. You whined as he twitched inside you, the writhing of both of your bodies making beautiful art together. 

When the high of your pleasure finally subsided, you slumped over the desk again. You were completely spent, both from blood loss and Marko’s perfect cock. Either way, he was more than satisfied with how you looked underneath him. He was careful slipping out of you, knowing you had enough roughness for one day. 

“There’s a good mate~” he cooed as he helped turn you over onto your back. You smiled sheepishly from how he stared at you with such intensitiy. “God, I’m a fuckin’ genius for getting you this costume.”

“You look pretty sexy yourself in that getup~”

Marko raised an eyebrow, amused by that statement. He slipping off the glasses with one hand and toyed with the buttons on his shirt with the other. 

“What about what’s underneath this?”

Your shy smile morphed into a sly smirk at that question. The two of you kept the sultry gaze going while you wrapped your legs around his hips and tugged him closer again. 

“Why don’t you show me, Sir?”

Marko liked that answer quite a bit. After all, as your teacher, he still had plenty of fun lessons to go over with you. He would be incredibly diligent with such an eager learner~

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @legal-lost-boy @michael-after-hours @bloodywickedvamp @oceansrose2002

[erin-bo-berin]

Cinderella anon here! I actually like the idea of Steve and the Reader knowing each other in high school but they were on opposite ends of the spectrum. They have like one magical night together at a school dance or something. Then she transfers schools and Steve is sad he'll never see her again, only to find her years later when she returns to Hawkins and he's working at FV. No smut please! Also, there's something of hers he keeps from that night. Up to you on what that will be.

Gotcha! 🥰

I have been SAVING this gif for something and it’s perfect for this.

His Cinderella

Steve Harrington x Reader

Hawkins High School’s Winter Formal: 1984

The gym was decorated to the nines.

There were blue and white streamers everywhere, paper snowflakes hanging from the ceilings. White lights were strung everywhere and there were winter themed fake trees at the front entrance.

There was a sea of people on the dance floor. Girls dressed in pretty gowns. From sequins and ruffles to lace and glitter. Guys were dressed in nice suits varying in shades of neutrals, though there were some in brighter, more stand out colors.

There was one guy who didn’t need a bright suit to stand out as he always held the room’s attention. Steve Harrington, despite no longer ruling the school, still turned heads.

You knew of him, of course. You had to live with your head in the sand to not know of the former King of Hawkins High. Girls still flocked to him and guys still secretly wanted to be him; he was just way more low key this year than he was last year during your mutual junior year.

You traveled in different circles, so you’d never interacted with him, but it didn’t help that you’d harbored a tiny, secret crush on him since freshman year. But you were realistic, you knew you didn’t stand a chance and it didn’t bother you. It was just a simple fact.

That didn’t stop you from enjoying the view, though.

Typically, you thought high school dances were lame, but your friends had begged you to come with them and you’d eventually gave in.

Your dress was simple, a bright turquoise color which seemed odd for a winter dance, but you’d like the way the color stood out against your skin tone. Besides, you weren’t there to impress anyone anyway.

You’d paired it with a pair of white Mary Jane heels, a set of silver snowflake drop earrings and your absolute favorite necklace.

It was a small, silver charm of a star on a matching silver chain, long enough to rest just below your throat. Your mom had given it to you for your sixteenth birthday, telling you it was because you were her star.

Your friends were off dancing with their dates and you stood by the concessions table, sipping on your punch. You didn’t really care much anyway because after tonight, you’d never see these people again.

Your parents had told you only a month ago that by the new semester, you’d be in a new school, somewhere in North Carolina. Your dad had gotten a new job and frankly, you’d miss your friends but not much else about Hawkins. Today was technically the first day of break as school let out early, but you’d already committed to going to the dance. So here you were, leaning against the table at the dance, obviously have tons of fun.

“Isn’t it a little counterproductive to sit on the sidelines at a dance?”

You broke out of your thoughts and noticed who was standing in front of you.

Steve.

He looked really good in a dark blue suit, and white dress shirt, no tie—not that that was at all surprising. His hair was combed back, held back with gel maybe, but if so, it was so unnoticeable that you’d thought he woke up with his hair perfectly placed.

The guy had great hair, you had to give him that.

His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets as he watched you. Why he was over here, talking to you, you had no idea.

“Dancing is overrated,” you shrugged, “And the punch is good.”

He looked amused.

“Isn’t that stuff like 90% alcohol?” he asked.

“Either I must’ve been lucky to get a cup before it was spiked or this is the weakest alcohol I’ve ever drank,” you replied dryly.

He laughed. An actual, hearty, deep from his chest type of laugh. It wasn’t just to be polite, he actually found your remark funny.

“Where’s your date?” he asked, brow raised.

“Invisible,” you retorted.

“Ah. I bet he makes a nice date.”

“At least I don’t have to listen to annoying complaining,” you shrugged.

His lips twitched, but you continued, actually deciding to be honest.

“I came alone. I mean I came with friends, but I didn’t bring a date.”

“Shame,” he said, “A guy is missing out on not taking a date that cleans up as nice as you.”

“If you’re trying to flirt with me, Harrington, that was terrible. Frankly, I expected more of you.”

He looked surprised now, brows raising towards the ceiling.

“You know who I am?”

You snorted, the question actually humorous.

“Kind of hard not to.”

“True,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, falling silent.

“Where’s your date, Your Highness?” you smirked, emphasizing the title.

He winced.

“Please don’t call me that. I’m just Steve. And I didn’t bring a date.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“You mean none of the girls that’s been flocking around you all night aren’t your date?”

“Definitely not,” he said.

“Must be more like your fan club, hm?”

“Something like that,” he smirked, “So, you mind if I join you?”

“Well I haven’t exactly opposed yet, have I?”

He chuckled, moving to lean on the table next to you.

“Point taken.”

“Careful of the punch though. I’m sure by now it’s more toxic than gasoline.”

He chuckled, eyeing it.

“So what are you doing here if you’re going to stand on the sidelines too?” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “Shouldn’t you be wooing and dancing with the line of girls that’s eager to capture your attention?”

He shrugged, looking out at the sea of people on the dance floor.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for something else.”

“Like what?” you questioned, curiously.

“I don’t know. A Cinderella in a sea of commoners, maybe,” Steve said.

“Sounds like someone has been watching too many Disney movies,” you quipped.

“What, aren’t all girls secretly wooed by romance and the thought of a Prince Charming to sweep them off their feet?”

“Well considering I’ve never had a Prince Charming sweep me off my feet, I wouldn’t know. I’ll get back to you when that happens, though.”

He chuckled again and you couldn’t believe you were making Steve Harrington laugh. You also couldn’t believe that he was no longer like the guy you’d once seen in action—for three straight years of high school in fact.

While Steve was a jock, the star of the basketball team, you were more a theater arts kid. You enjoyed choir, plays and music. You couldn’t have been more opposite in social circles if you’d tried.

The music, which had been several fast paced songs in a row, switched to a slow song and couples started to pair off.

You recognized the song as Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper.

“So, are you just going to stand there all night, or would you like to dance?” he offered, holding out his hand.

You threw caution to the wind and shrugged, taking his hand.

“I thought you said dancing is overrated,” he said, a wry grin on his face as his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Well it’s not every day, a King asks you to dance,” you said, amused.

His face turned serious, eyes scanning your face.

“I’m not the asshole I used to be,” he said quietly, so quiet you had to lean in closer to hear him.

“I know,” you said simply.

“You do?” he looked surprised.

“Yes. I’ve seen enough to know that you aren’t.”

He pulled you closer, your hand that was resting on his chest, keeping you a healthy distance away, sliding up around his neck as you swayed to the song.

“You know, I’ve seen you around a lot, but I’ve never got your name,” he said.

You smiled.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” he grinned crookedly.

“Likewise, Steve.”

“So, got any exciting plans for the holidays?” he asked.

“Just Christmas and New Years’ with my family,” you said nonchalantly, “You?”

His face clouds for a moment.

“Just hanging out with friends. Spending Christmas with my friend’s family. My parents aren’t really around much because of working all the time.”

You felt a stab of pain, seeing the look on Steve’s face. It was obviously something that upset him and you wanted to do anything to make him smile again. Make him laugh again.

“I’m sorry, Steve. That’s awful.”

Your tone wasn’t pitying, but empathetic.

“It’s okay. What do you and your family do?”

You smiled, thinking of the memories over the years of holidays past.

“Me and my parents always watch a Christmas movie on Christmas Eve night and eat Christmas cookies,” you said, face dreamy with memories.

This Christmas wasn’t going to be as magical due to the move, but you knew there were more to come. It just now struck you while talking to Steve, how much you were going to miss the usual traditions.

“Don’t laugh, but we also always leave Santa cookies. I mean, I stopped believing in him long ago, but me and my parents do it anyway because they say it keeps the childlike magic still inside of you.”

Steve was smiling, watching you talk.

“That’s really sweet,” he murmured, “What else?”

“Christmas morning we open presents and my parents usually always go overboard. I’m an only child and they like to tease me that I’m the light of their life. My mom actually calls me her star. Anyways, Christmas breakfast is usually fresh cinnamon rolls from the oven. Don’t be confused and think they’re homemade or anything because as good as a cook my mom is, she can’t bake worth a shit. They’re from a can.”

Steve’s laugh mixed with your own chuckles.

“She likes to make sure we have something in our stomachs before we start the day. I usually help her in the kitchen prepare whatever it is we take to my grandma’s house. That’s where the whole family gathers for Christmas. I don’t have a huge family, but it’s not small either. So there’s lots of talking, eating and lots of noise when presents are being open because I have a lot of little cousins. But usually, I think the end of the day is my favorite part, even though it’s the saddest part since it means Christmas is over.”

“What’s that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, me and my parents tend to spend the night with my grandma because we help her clean up from the chaos that is my family, the next day,” you smiled, “But my favorite part is being able to snuggle up in front of the fireplace, with a piece of pie, Christmas leftovers, something from the holiday meal and watch one last Christmas movie of the year. My mom says she usually finds me asleep in front of the fireplace, well after the movie has ended.”

Steve is silent for a moment and you worry that you’ve occupied his time for too long, that you’ve babbled for too long.

Already, a rare, third slow song was coming on. You hadn’t even noticed the first one fading into the second. After this, you were sure there wasn’t going to be another song for you to dance with him to.

“I’m sorry, I was babbling—” you began.

“Don’t be.”

He had a wistful look in his eyes, a small smile on his lips.

“That sounds like a magical holiday,” he said softly.

“Maybe if you’re good, Santa will bring you an invitation to my crazy family Christmas,” you chuckled.

You both fell quiet after that, for truly the first time since he’d approached you, but this time, you didn’t mind. You just wanted to enjoy tonight and this song.

You laid your head on his shoulder and you could’ve sworn you felt his arms around your waist tighten just a bit.

You were positive he was going to let you go and wander off once the song ended, but he didn’t. You both stayed there, dancing with one another, lost in your own world.

Even when the faster paced songs like The Police’s Every Breath You Take and Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called To Say I Love You came on, you kept swaying with one another, occasionally talking about different things.

Too soon though, the dance started winding down. The majority of the time you had spent with Steve had been on the dance floor and you didn’t regret a moment of it.

You had no idea where your friends had gotten to and you knew you needed to tell them a proper goodbye before you left Hawkins High for good.

“I think this is the only time I’m glad my feet are tired,” Steve joked as you finally pulled out of his embrace.

“I agree,” you smiled, hating the fact that you were going to have to say goodbye.

You didn’t give yourself time to overthink your next action as you stepped closer to him again, kissing his cheek gently. His arm enclosed your waist gently, like it was always meant to be there. He gave you a little squeeze before you stepped back.

“I had fun, Steve Harrington. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you after break, right?”

His face looked so hopeful that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He would probably forget about you before break was over, anyways.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “See you.”

You turned, heading towards the door, leaving Hawkins High and Steve Harrington behind you.

It wouldn’t be until after the move that you noticed your star necklace had disappeared.

Family Video, Hawkins, Indiana: 1986

Sometimes, Steve thought about you.

Scratch that, he thought about you often.

It had been two years now since that night at the Winter Formal, his senior year. The incredible night he’d shared with Y/N.

After years of surrounding himself with fake people and a failed relationship, he thought he’d finally stumbled upon someone he’d really connected with.

He thought of you all break. For once, he was excited for school. It had been rough after he no longer was King Steve and his breakup with Nancy. People either hated him or sucked up to him, just wanting him for what they thought he was. He’d been getting by day by day so he could grab his diploma and get the fuck out of there.

But Y/N had changed things for him. He had a reason to look forward to school again. He looked for you for a week after school resumed.

When he eventually heard that you’d moved away, he was surprised at how much the news hurt. He didn’t even know you all that well, so why was he so upset?

He did actually make it through the rest of his senior year, but he never stopped thinking about you.

Which is how he was here, telling his best friend Robin all about it, two years later.

Despite all the girls he’d taken out, no matter who he tried to date, no one seemed to satisfy him. He kept thinking about you.

“So, let me get this straight,” Robin said, finishing shelving the rental VHSes in her hands, “You have this incredibly, straight out of a fairy tale romantic night at the school dance with this girl and then she disappears forever?”

Robin, who’d recently graduated from Hawkins High herself had been a grade below him. He hadn’t known her back in high school, but he sure was glad he knew her now.

“Basically,” he sighed, stacking the return tapes.

“And she is the reason that you haven’t been able to settle down with any girl?” Robin asked, clearly amused.

“Look, I know how crazy it sounds, alright? We spent a few hours together and I’m still pining over her, yes. But I don’t know Robin, I just felt such a strong connection to her. I was devastated when she didn’t come back.”

“Honestly she sounds too good to be true. It almost sounds like a crazy fever dream.”

He laughed, humorlessly.

“I would think the same thing, if I didn’t have this.”

He reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out the silver chain and holding it out to her.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the item in her hands, studying it, “A star necklace?”

“I noticed it at my feet after she’d left. The clasp must’ve broken and slid off,” he said.

“You still have it?”

The way Robin asked it, he wasn’t sure if she found it romantic or creepy.

“Yeah,” he shrugged sheepishly, “It’s become like a good luck charm for me, I guess. I always carry it. I figured if there was ever the chance I saw her again, I could return it.”

“Steve that’s the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say,” she gaped at him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he grumbled, taking the necklace back and putting it safely back in his pocket.

“I’m not, I swear! It’s like a chick flick come to life.”

He rolled his eyes, giving her a look.

“But back to my point. You can’t let this girl ruin you on love forever. At this point, you’re chasing a ghost, Steve.”

His eyes widened when the front door chimed, signaling a customer coming in. It wasn’t the fact that they had a customer. It was who it was.

It was Y/N.

“Speaking of ghosts,” he mumbled, frozen in shock.

You were busy looking at the end display of one aisle and hadn’t turned his and Robin’s way.

Robin whipped her head around, spotting you.

“That’s her?!” she whispered.

All he could do is nod.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

She grabbed the stack of tapes out of his hands.

“Go get your girl, Romeo!”

•

You’d recently moved back to Hawkins to live with your grandma. She was getting older and needing more help around the house. Even though she was in good health, you were happy to be of help. You loved your grandma dearly and would do anything for her, even move back to Hawkins.

Your two years in North Carolina hadn’t been bad. You’d made some friends, got a job after graduation, but for some reason you never felt fulfilled there. For some reason, you often missed Hawkins.

More specifically, you’d missed Steve.

You spent a good amount of time wondering what could’ve happened if you’d had more time to get to know him. You absolutely regretted not telling him you were moving away. Even if anything hadn’t happened between you two, you could’ve stayed in touch.

The thoughts of him really permeated your brain since you’d stepped back into Hawkins. You’d wonder how he was, where he ended up, if he was happy.

You remembered how sad he’d been about his parents, how wistful he’d been at your family’s holiday traditions. He deserved to be happy.

Your grandma had mentioned a video rental store downtown and suggested you stop by to rent a few movies so the two of you could watch and you’d agreed. You were eager to explore the town you’d written off so long ago.

You’d just picked up one movie to check out when you heard a voice behind you. It was one you hadn’t forgotten.

“Hey there, stranger.”

You turned around, nearly dropping the tape in your hand. You clumsily put it back before it could hit the floor.

“Steve,” you breathed.

“You look as surprised to see me as I am you,” he grinned.

He was only two years older but he seemed so much more of a man now. He was almost 20, if not already. He still looked as amazing as he did that night, though now he sported jeans, a polo and a dark green Family Video employee vest.

“Oh wow,” you chuckled, “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” he chuckled, “Been awhile, huh?”

You nodded like a fool, but you couldn’t help the smile that had spread on your face.

“I didn’t realize you worked here,” you said.

“Yup, been here for over a year now,” he nodded.

“I’ve only been back in Hawkins for a week. I just moved in with my grandma,” you said, still in disbelief.

“I heard you’d moved away when break was over,” he said, brows furrowing.

“I’m so sorry Steve. I should’ve told you. I wish I would’ve. But we’d had such a great night and I didn’t want to ruin it. I thought you wouldn’t even remember me by the time break was over,” you admitted, guiltily.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “I never forgot you.”

There were actual tears in your eyes, you were so overwhelmed with guilt, happiness, sorrow for all the possible time lost.

“I never forgot you either, Steve,” you smiled.

“Actually, uh, you kinda left a part of you with me that night,” he chuckles, reaching into his pocket for something.

Only when it’s dangling from his hand do you recognize it.

“My star necklace,” you gasped, “I thought I lost it forever.”

“I found it on the floor at my feet after you left,” he said, smiling the tiniest bit, “I’ve kept it with me all this time in hopes I could return it one day.”

You have no words for how touched you are.

“May I?” he gestures to your neck, unclasping it, “Apparently it broke when it fell off, but I got the clasp fixed long ago.”

You couldn’t help the smile that brightened your face as you turned your back to him, lifting your hair off your neck. He carefully lifted his arms, the necklace coming over your head before resting gently against the hollow of your neck, where it had rested so perfectly before. He secured it, making double sure that it wasn’t going anywhere before letting you know you could turn around again.

Your fingers brushed the silver star, the comfort in it just the same as it always was. You gazed up at him, halfway believing he wasn’t actually real, that you were just dreaming all of this.

“Thank you,” you said demurely.

Opposing your shy words, you stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his chest and leaned up to kiss him. Not on the cheek as you’d once had, but on the lips, like he deserved.

You kissed him for that amazing last night at Hawkins High. You kissed him for the time you’d lost. You kissed him for saving your most treasured item. You kissed him because all this time, you wished you had that night.

Lastly, you kissed him like you life depended on it.

He looked just as dazed as you felt when you pulled back, no words being able to describe the type of fireworks that went off behind your eyes and in your heart when your lips had met. The kiss had thrown him off guard, but he’d kissed you back just as passionately as you had kissed him, one arm coming around your waist to hold you there.

Maybe it was his dazed state to blame why he was so confused by your next question.

“Have you been a good boy this year, Steve?” you asked.

“What?”

A husky laugh left his lips and he looked as confused as he sounded.

“Well Christmas is coming up soon,” you murmured, looking up at him intently, “I was wondering if you’d like Santa to bring you that invitation to my family’s Christmas.”

His eyes softened so much, you wanted to melt with them. They were dark pools of chocolate, full of all the emotions he was feeling.

“I’d love that.”

Then you kissed him again, in the middle of Family Video, during his shift and you did not care one bit. Neither did he.

You pulled back suddenly, a thought occurring to you, an amused smile on your face.

“Wait. Does this mean I’m your Cinderella?”

There was an equally amused glint in his eye, complimenting the look of pure happiness on his face.

“I suppose it does. Just as long as I’m your Prince Charming.”

[mimilind]

A Magical Classmate - Part 2

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2500

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

Your new classmate is an excellent lab partner, and turns out to be a resourceful ally at a party as well. Especially if someone tries to mug you…

2. Lab Partner and Party Protector

The next morning you hauled out your cleanest jeans and best t-shirt, and spent far too long in front of the mirror before you rode your bike to campus. But when you arrived at the lecture hall you found that Catrine and Martin had already monopolized Drake, taking the seats on either side of him.

Feeling defeated, you realized he was probably a lost case, and felt embarrassed for dressing up like you had. As if he would ever notice you when there were attractive, fun people like them to hang out with. 

Morosely you took a seat in the row behind the trio. You knew you were overly dramatic and silly for feeling so jealous and left out, but couldn’t help doing it anyway.

During lunch break, Drake went to a nearby restaurant while the rest of you sat in a student lounge to eat your packed lunches. 

“I wish I could afford to eat out every day too.” Catrine took a bite of her dry cheese sandwich. 

“It’s not very healthy though,” said Filip, the only vegan in the class.

You had brought leftover macaroni and meatballs and ate them in silence, still feeling a bit low. When you had finished you decided to indulge yourself and bought a chocolate bar in the vending machine to cheer you up.

It didn’t help.

Drake returned in the afternoon when it was time for labs, and to your surprise and delight he chose you as his lab partner. You tried not to look smug when Catrine and Martin gave you long, jealous looks.

“Whew, saved by the bell,” he murmured. “Is Catrine silent, like, ever?”

You grinned. “Rarely.” Just like that, your mood had changed from glum to cheerful.

“Even if I had understood Swedish I wouldn’t have caught one word of today’s lecture with her prattling in my ear the entire morning.”

“I still don’t get why you attend lectures.”

He shrugged. “Bored, I guess.”

It was time to begin and you tried to translate the lab instructions. Drake turned out to be adept at practical chemistry as well – except for a few very strange instances. The first one was when you had to help him turn on the light and the fan in the fume hood. Apparently he didn’t understand that he had to press the red button with ‘on’ printed on it. 

His next difficulty was with the magnetic stirrer. This time he found the power switch, but didn’t put the plug in the socket.

”You need to plug it in,” you said, trying not to smile.

”Oh.” He turned the appliance over with a perplexed look. 

”Here.” You helped him again.

First when you began the titration, Drake showed how talented he really was. He claimed to have never done it before, yet managed to create perfect solutions every time, and his calculations – written down with the neatest handwriting you ever saw from a guy – were made with ease. Though you wondered a bit why he used an old-fashioned ink pen.

A gleam drew your attention. From under the lab coat, Drake’s shirt sleeves peeked through, and you saw he wore actual cufflinks. 

Seriously?

He had a matching silver ring on his index finger, with a serpentine pattern. It struck you he had really nice hands. Large but with a soft touch; he had no problem handling the fragile equipment.

”Wow, we’re already finished,” you exclaimed, looking around and finding that nobody else was done by far. ”Can I always be your lab partner?”

He just grinned and shrugged.

”Let’s go make the lab report now.” You figured it would be a win-win combination; he knew what to write in it, you knew Swedish. 

As you went to a study area and sat around the small, round table, Drake removed his suit jacket and loosened the tie so he could open the top button of his shirt.

Your stomach flipped and filled with flutters. Damn, what a body he had! He must work out a lot. You wondered why he kept hiding it under suits and dress coats – all muscular guys you knew wore tight t-shirts to make it show.

Then you began on the report, leaning your heads over the paper. His semi-long hair fell forward and made his face look softer, less controlled.

Sitting so close, his pleasant perfume filled your nostrils and you had to refrain from sniffing him like an enthusiastic dog. It was increasingly hard to focus on the report.

There was no denying it anymore; you had to admit to yourself you were getting a huge crush on this guy. He was just so perfect in every way!

You were nearly finished when Catrine and Martin joined you. Like you, they hadn’t quite understood the lab and had many questions, which Drake seemed glad to answer. In the end, both the reports became mostly his doing, but since you others had translated and written them you figured you weren’t really cheating. Much.

Unsurprisingly, after that, Drake became everyone’s favorite lab partner. He took turns and changed partners each time, and though you were disappointed, you weren’t really expecting anything else. He had no reason to single you out. 

A couple of weeks passed and Halloween was coming up. The following Friday there would be a big costume Halloween party hosted by Chalmers, the city’s famous university of technology. Since it was open to other academic departments as well, Catrine, Martin and you decided to go, and she managed to convince Drake to tag along. 

“But remember this will be Swedish Halloween, not American,” said Martin. “Here we only dress up as evil and nasty things, like vampires, ghosts, witches and stuff.”

“Ah. Then I can dress as a dark wizard,” said Drake with a wry smile you couldn’t quite interpret.

The evening came, and as arranged you went to the Karl IX statue which was where everyone met up in this city. You had spent a long time picking your outfit – wanting to wear something that both matched the Halloween theme and made you look good – and at last settled on a bat face mask and a wide, black cloak that flowed around you dramatically as you walked. 

Shortly afterwards, Drake arrived. “Neat!” He indicated your cape. “You look a bit like a dungeon bat I know, but much cuter.”

The compliment filled you with a pleasant warmth. 

Drake also wore a black cloak, his with wide sleeves, and held an old-fashioned broomstick in one hand. He had used makeup to make his face paler, except for dark red shades around his eyes, and with his blond hair snugly combed back it gave the impression of a skull. His attractive smile took away part of the effect though.

“You look great too,” you said, meaning it wholeheartedly. He was exceedingly handsome no matter what he did. “Only a bit too nice for a dark wizard.”

“Nice?” His smile disappeared and he lowered his eyebrows, piercing you with a dangerous, sharp look. He loomed over you, a hand menacingly hovering near his sleeve like he prepared to draw a gun from it.

You took a step backwards, a nervous throb in your chest. The transformation was uncanny. Drake suddenly looked lethal.

He relaxed and grinned widely, his face perfectly friendly again. “Were you afraid?” he teased.

“Of course not!” you lied, laughing sheepishly. 

Now the others had arrived and the four of you walked up the Avenyn boulevard. Along the way, you passed a beggar with a cup in front of him. 

Drake stopped, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t,” whispered Catrine. “He will just buy booze.”

He shrugged and put a hundred-crown note in the cup. “Then so be it.” 

The beggar’s eyes became round and he grinned toothlessly, quickly snatching up the note. “Tack så mycket,” he repeated several times.

“It means ‘thanks a lot’,” you translated.

Drake chuckled. “I figured.”

“Are you always this generous?” asked Catrine, giving his thick wallet a speculative look as he put it away. You were all poor students and she probably hoped he would offer to share with you also.

“Nowadays I am.”

“But not before?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Shall we continue?” 

The Halloween party was held in a large student union building and the loud music met you already outside. Drake got that same pained look you had seen at the pub the other week. 

“Don’t you like pop music?” you asked.

“It’s just a bit loud. But I suppose I’ll get used to it.”

Soon your group was swept along by the many cheerful partygoers, each more scarily dressed than the other, and it didn’t take long until you got separated. Catrine and Martin wanted to dance, and you too, but Drake disappeared before you could invite him.

Biting down the disappointment, you danced with your friends instead. At least you felt unusually cool and interesting in your outfit. You were not used to drawing others’ looks, but tonight a random guy even bought you a drink unprompted. 

It had become quite late when you finally saw Drake again. He was standing outside the entrance, talking with your classmate Andreas who was a bit of a lone wolf. 

“There you are!” you said.

“The volume was more bearable here,” Drake explained. “Is it time to leave soon, you think?” He had a longing tone in his voice.

You immediately decided it was. “I’ll fetch Catrine and Martin.”

Catrine was easy to find, dancing like there was no tomorrow in her demon costume, and after a while you found Martin too, closely embracing a handsome ginger guy. 

“We’re going home. You coming?”

“Don’t wait for me; I’ll be sleeping elsewhere tonight,” he said with a proud grin. 

Secretly very pleased, you returned to Drake. Martin had always appeared to be your most serious rival for the object of your crush, so it was a relief he had found himself another guy.

A few blocks away, the silence was nearly deafening after the noisy, crowded hall. The fresh fall air was cool against your heated face, with a light drizzle making the dark streets glisten. 

Andreas had been tagging along, now he fell into step with you. “He is such a nice guy,” he murmured in Swedish, nodding discreetly at Drake. “I didn’t see anyone I knew at the party and felt out of place at first, but then he came. He kept me company all evening, and even tried to match me with a girl I found pretty.”

“He’s super nice,” you agreed. “How did it go?”

“Well, she only had eyes for him, so not good unfortunately.” He smiled wistfully. “Still, I had a lot of fun for a change.”

His words gave you a pang of bad conscience. Andreas had been nearby when Catrine and you others asked Drake to come with you to the party – why had neither of you thought to ask Andreas too? Perhaps he wasn’t a lone wolf, just lonely and left out.

You decided to be more like Drake and be kinder to fellow students from now on.

After a while, you noticed two strangers following you. Something about them made you uneasy, and you involuntarily increased your step.

The strangers did likewise.

Drake had seen them too, and cast many nervous glances across his shoulder. He had become tense and alert.

Suddenly he stopped, turning to face them. “What do you want?” he asked in a low, threatening voice very different from his usual one. He looked dangerous. Like a tiger ready to pounce. 

“Oo an English tourist,” sneered the bigger of the two. He wore a frayed leather vest and his bare arms were covered in tattoos. A biker.

“We just want to talk,” said his companion. You suddenly noticed he had a knife in his hand.

Cold to the marrow with fear, you tugged at Drake’s sleeve. “Let’s go!”

“Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “These gentlemen were just going to leave.” For some strange reason his stance had become less taut, as if he found a couple of professional criminals no big deal at all. As if he had expected someone worse.

“No we aren’t, you little shit.” The big one drew a knife too. It looked nasty.

“I’m calling the police,” said Catrine in a trembling voice. She was fumbling with the buttons of her Nokia.

“Don’t.” Drake didn’t take his eyes off the thugs. “You go ahead. I will catch up with you.”

When you hesitated, heart pounding, he swiftly turned around. “I said go.” There was a steely edge to his tone. 

“But–”

“Get the hell out of here,” he growled, looking so stern and intimidating you didn’t dare disobey. 

Together with Catrine and Andreas you scrambled away a few meters, but then stopped again. You couldn’t just cowardly flee when your friend was in danger!

One of the bikers charged and Drake caught his knife with his bare hand. Blood trickled between his fingers. 

You yelped, hands flying to your mouth. 

Drake said something in a foreign language and his other hand moved too fast for you to see what he did. 

The bikers cried out and dropped their knives with a clatter of steel against asphalt. Their voices changed pitch, becoming shrill as they turned around, stumbling over each other in their hurry to run away.

You dashed to Drake’s side, shaking with excess adrenaline. “How are you?”

“Fine. They were just bullies.”

“Your hand…” Your voice trailed off, breath hitching. His hand was uninjured. No blood, nothing… but you had seen it!

“What about it?” He calmly flexed his fingers. There was not a mark on them.

“I can’t believe you scared them away,” said Catrine, joining you. “How did you do it?”

“Oh, I just… what’s that technique called, uh…”

“Martial art? Karate?” Andreas suggested.

“That’s it, yes. That’s how I scared them.”

You shook your head, trying to clear it. You had a few drinks at the party, perhaps you had seen wrong… the injury and the blood must be your imagination.

Warm relief filled you then, making your legs go weak. Drake was alright! You were all safe!

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said, voice again soft and kind. “I was afraid they would go for you too if you stayed.”

You looked at him mutely, at the same time immensely grateful and awed over how heroic and selfless he was. Your throat constricted with emotions and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him an impulsive hug. “Thank you,” you mumbled against his cloak. “That was so brave.”

At first he stiffened, then he hugged you back. “It was nothing. I’ve trained for this, you haven’t.”

You shyly drew back, wiping your eyes from tears that had appeared out of nowhere. 

He patted your shoulder soothingly. “It’s alright.” The motion made his cloak sleeve slide up, exposing the cuff of the black shirt he wore underneath.

That was when you saw it: there was a drop of fresh blood on his silver cufflink.

A/N:

Oops hehe. He should have been more thorough with his scourgify, but I suppose he was a bit in a hurry…

Thanks (or 'tack så mycket!') for reading! :)

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[professorspork]

u should like!! toootally drop blake and yang outfit references for ur newsbees au. for like. research purposes

!!! okay I can't tell if you're asking this for fanart reasons (EVERYONE SHOULD FEEL VERY FREE TO DO THAT) or for spank bank "my thirst requires an accurate theater of the mind" reasons (VALID) but

this makes me UNHINGED and i plan to be SO THOROUGH so THANK YOU FOR ASKING

i have put this under a cut to spare you all but i think you should click on it and admire the gilded age urchin chic

first of all, let me say that Newsies Are Beautiful. They have never met two clashing patterns they didn't want to combine and I think they are perfect in every way

that said

the classic Jack look could certainly use some tailoring before it's truly ready for the Yang prime time

these numbered fellas give us a better place to start when it comes to I WANT MY NEWSIES TO NOT BE SWIMMING IN CLOTHES TWO SIZES TOO BIG YES I KNOW THE VERITAS OF THEM SCROUNGING FOR WHATEVER BUT ALSO. THIRST.

Fella 1 is a pretty bang-on Yang and you can tell that was his intention because he's growing out his hair, bless. sleeves rolled to show arm, shirt unbuttoned scandalously to show cleavage, open vest, neat cap, high socks. the lower half does lose points for the striped socks that remind me of the Wicked Witch of the East's feet sticking out and the fact that he's clearly in tap shoes as opposed to work boots like his friend Fella 3

Fella 2 gets EXTRA sock points for the argyle and the vest-but-no-collar combo which is very Nora. He also has a neat cap, which Blake always does because she's hiding her ears.

Fella 3 has a sloppy cap but is otherwise a bang-on Blake; kempt and tidy in ways Yang never is even though they are essentially wearing the exact same thing. Blake knows how to button buttons and Yang pretends she forgets every day

Fella 4's rocking the henley and suspenders combo which serves any member of our cast, a fucking classic

Fella 5 is wearing a tie he is trying so hard he wants to look nice at work, 100% a Jaune move

sir that-- that's not how crutches are supposed to-- SIR--

this Crutchie exhibits excellent Newsie styling in a very Yang color palette. high socks, mixing of patterns, rolled sleeves; excellent. the slightly fancier waistcoat, actually buttoned, isn't something Yang would go for but certainly wouldn't be amiss on Blake, Ruby, or Velvet

Ruby also, of course, wears a signature red scarf instead of her cloak:

like her scarf and hat just absolutely dwarf her, she's WEE SMOL

above we see our previous example Crutchie not leaping through the air, and his outfit remains exemplary but for the backwards cap, which I shan't abide. the Jack to his left-- what with his WIDE open shirt, tight undershirt, rolled sleeves, and suspenders, is very Yang.

good Yang looks can also mean THE SHORTEST SLEEVES EVER, TO SHOW OFF THE GUNS:

both excellent choices, and of course our lower fella (TURN THAT CAP AROUND YOUNG MAN) has got his bandana going, which is Quite Yang

all the guys in the background there are gold too tbh

look at this king in this fashion pose but also YEAH WHY NOT BANDANAS ON THE ARMS BANDANAS EVERYWHERE the yang xiao long story

^^ this outfit, on the other hand, is pretty exactly spot-on for Blake immediately post haircut/makeover

Weiss, I'm sure you've already guessed, is a Classic Katherine:

she's buttoned-up, she's fancy, her shit matches and she's the only one in a skirt.

the only thing where my brain gets REALLY SPECIFIC is the finale so uh. spoiler warning I guess for screenshots of the Newsies film and vague references to a plot resolution if you're reading the AU without having watched it

but the finale looks are ICONIC and non-negotiable

button shirt OVER henley OVER bandana and nothing's buttoned? suspenders on but hanging loose from the hips? hell yes.

i actually even managed to make that dirt smudge on David's tummy plot-relevant to Blake and that was completely subconscious and I didn't realize I did it until looking up these screenshots but there you have it. and by this point Weiss gets to be a little more loose and dressed-down, a la Sarah

in conclusion they're in love look at those heart eyes oh my god