#im going into red colours when the pink is worn out :)

[liliavalley]

this outfit thing is pissing me off actually

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

I'm getting a haircut today and I can picture my hairstylists disappointed face when she sees that I bleached and dyed it at home again 🙃

[hopeluna]

hello cupid!!

im here to request steve harrington, 18+, sith prompt 13 please and thank you!!

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — Valentine's day event ˎˊ˗

Prompt 13: “you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do right now.”

CW: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, 18+ so minors don't interact, sort of a modern au? But its only indicated once, established relationship, Steve is disgustingly in love with us, oral (f receiving), sex (p in v), slight overstimulation, also reader not being insecure of her body cause we bad bitches !!

Word count: 1.8k

⁀➷ cupid: shooting my first arrow in this event, i hope its a good match for u <33

This was either going to be the worst or best idea that you have ever had in your life.

It wasn't like it was your first time here, you've been in the extravagant lingerie shop a couple of times before, out with your girlfriends on a girl's day. But this- this felt different and nerve wracking more than anything because you weren't just buying a set for some impromptu self-love-motivated frenzy for yourself, you were buying it for Steve. On valentine's, no less!

Though your relationship was relatively still new, you weren't necessarily scared at the idea that Steve would dislike this. You knew him, and you knew that he would probably faint with giddiness on sight at seeing you in delicate lingerie. So, that part isn't the problem.

The problem is that you have never done something like this before with him and it was valentine's! A super special day of love- so it really was just the inner anxieties of doing anything for the first time that was bothering you-

"Ma'am, can I help you with anything?"

Your eyes moved to the red haired woman standing before you, looking at you with a polite god-kill-me-already customer service smile. You could see the strain of work in her eyes, making you internally cringe at yourself for standing in front of the store for the past 20 minutes peering inside. She probably thought you were another hurdle between her and her shift ending.

"Oh! I was just- you know, looking for the lingerie shop."

"Yes uh, this is the lingerie shop", giving you another tired smile, she vaguely gestures her hands towards the store sign in front of you.

Right. You are about 2 seconds away from bolting out of here from sheer embarrassment. Bless her, she passes you a sympathetic smile at your obvious embarrassment and nerves,"would you like me to help you look around?"

"Yes, please. That would be great- thank you!"

You follow (Bethany- her name tag says) as she leads you inside the shop. It's minimalistic and warmly lit, the wallpapers a comforting beige colour with white tiled flooring. You're glad that Bethany as her back turned to you when you almost threaten to deform one of the mannequins by bumping into it.

"So, do you have any types or colours already in mind?", she raises a eyebrow at you questioningly over her back.

"Um, not much really. But- I was thinking maybe something in pink?"

She gives you a knowing smile, "valentine's?"

You nod wordlessly, feeling heat creep up on the back of your neck.

You felt like you were going to positively burst out sobbing right there in the middle of the floor. You had been at this for, what? two hours! Probably more than that.

It wasn't like nothing looked good on you, in fact you rather felt hot in every single one of these sets but none of them felt just right and you needed it to feel right in the words of Bethany, "if you don't feel it, its not the one."

Speaking of her, you don't think you could've got through without her care. The initial embarrassment and intimidation had worn off the second she started to help you in choosing with a reassuring sister-like smile. She had also insisted that you call her Betty, cause "Bethany makes me feel like a old woman."

"I got it!", you startle at the said woman speed walking to where you are, a beaming grin on her face and the most beautiful pink set up until now.

You try it on and you instantly have the urge to throw up from how good it looks on you.

It's the perfect mix of sexy and cute, adorned with faded pink lace all over. The garters strapped from the waist to the middle of your thighs make the skin around it spill into a little pudge, something that you know Steve will go crazy over.

"I'm guessing by your face, that's the one." Betty flashes you a cheeky smile over your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror in front.

You inspect the way the cloth hugs your curves with a small smile, "Yup- this is definitely it", you pause for a moment, "do you think he'll like it?"

She only gives you a wink, "he'll lose his goddamn mind, honey."

You tried to repeat Betty's reassuring words in your head like a mantra as you got ready. You rubbed the tiniest bit of perfume, slipped into the lingerie, covered it with a robe, placed the wine out of the cupboard in case it was wanted later and sat rigidly at the edge of the bed for what felt like forever- your ears perked up for any sign of the front door opening.

You almost face plant on the floor at how quickly you get up when you hear the front door open, the clear click of it closing followed by Steve's voice calling your name.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from grinning at the way your boyfriend's face lights up when he sees you make your way to him, your bare feet making soft thumps against the carpet.

"Hey, Steve-" your instantly cut off when he pulls you close to plant a soft kiss to your lips.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Your skin prickles with goosebumps, his hands firmly placed on your waist. Your lips twitch downwards at how weary he looks. Dark patches under his eyes, eyes that seem sunken from being all day at work.

Steve nudges his nose against yours, softly. "You okay?"

You only give him a hum in response, light massaging his tense shoulders absentmindedly. "I got a surprise for you. For valentine's day."

A breathy laugh escapes you at the way his eyebrows shoot up, "You did?"

You nod with a smile, intertwining his hands with yours, gently pulling him into the bedroom. You choose to ignore the adorable way he mutters your name questioningly along the way.

Steve tries to reach for your hand gently when you let go, the both of you now standing at the centre of the room. You take a deep breath in before reaching to pull away the ties of your robe slowly, letting it pool around your feet.

You're not sure how long the silence stretches for, perhaps only a few seconds but it feels like hours. You wince lightly, not being able to help the anxieties that creep up and take root in your mind.

"Do- do you not like it?"

You take in a shaky breath as Steve's eyes widen, looking as if they just broke out of a trance. "What?- no! I mean- yes! Fuck."

You visibly relax when you notice the prominent strain in his pants when he shifts on his feet nervously.

You're about to talk when Steve suddenly pulls you into a heated kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. "Shit, you look good- really good", you smile at the shaky breath he takes in, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, baby- you've never looked as beautiful as you do right now."

You tilt your head to the side with a small smile, trying to look into his eyes. "You said that on our first date too-" you huff a laugh at the way his brows furrow, "- and like yesterday too."

Steve gently knocks his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing the seams of the lace of your bra, "not my fault you look beautiful every day."

"Ha! You, Steve Harrington, are such a sap- " the teasing smile on your face falls as his grip on your sides hardens a bit, a yelp escaping you when you fall back gently on to the plush mattress.

"You bully me way too much", the words are muffled from where he's leaving firm kisses on your jaw, trailing down to nip at your collar. Your breath hitches at the barely-there touch of the pads of his fingers on your nipples over the thin cloth. He trails his kisses all over your stomach till his practically laying on his stomach, his breath ghosting over the wet patch on your underwear.

"Ste-ve", a broken, breathy moan escapes you as he pushes the cloth aside to take a hungry lick over the length of your cunt. Your boyfriend's mumbles barely reach your ear when he starts to desperately lick and slurp against your heat like a parched man.

"So perfect, so fuckin' perfect."

Steve reaches his hand up your body to tweak and twist your nipples, paired with a harsh suck of your clit that makes you cry out as your hips subconsciously grind against his mouth. It doesn't take long for you to reach your climax at how messy the whole ordeal is. Steve greedily lapping up the mess, only stopping when you push him away slightly with a whine when the touch becomes too much.

He doesn't take too much time to kiss you hungrily, making you taste yourself on his tongue, before hastily shoving his clothes off of him. Steve shakes his head when you reach to take off yours, mumbling a raspy "want to see you in it on my cock."

That, some how almost makes you want to cum right then and there.

You both moan in unison when he slides in your cunt, the wet squelch sound echoing filthy-ly in the room. Your eyes roll back so hard at the sharp thrusts, Steve snapping his hips against yours in hard, steady but ruthless thrusts- purposefully hitting that one spot inside of you.

The more you whine his name into the thick, hot air; the rougher he gets with powerful thrusts and bites across your neck that he soothes with licks before biting another sensitive spot.

"Fuck." A particular thrust makes you unravel with a moan that sounds like something straight out a porno. You're sure the way Steve grips your thighs at the delicious squeeze of your cunt is gonna leave bruises like hell. You're too fucked out to notice the red crescent shaped marks you left on his arms and back.

Steve kisses you roughly, all tongue and teeth as he comes down from his own high.

He's quick to pull you against his chest when he slumps down next to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, almost as if he is trying to imprint the feel of you skin against his to memory.

You're not quite sure when you both fall asleep, still tangled with each other. But the soft ding! of your phone on the nightstand makes you shift and rub your eyes at the offending morning light filtering through the curtains.

You shift a little bit, only to have Steve's arm tighten firmly around your waist, snuggling into you further with soft snores. You reach for your phone to see that you have 1 unread message on your notifications along with other stuff.

Betty <33

Get that dick, girl! 🎉🎉

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[lucero-is-here]

Nadia Ben Yamin headcanons part 2:

1 - Nadia's handwriting is cursive. It's almost impossible to read her handwriting sometimes.

2 - she holds little tea parties at her place for the police squad and have them all come over to chat

3 - She has a set of earphones on her to listen to random podcasts or music.

4 - she listens to true crime podcasts all the time.

She always feels bad for the victims though.

5 - good relationship with her parents, but closer to her father. Her father spent more time with her when growing up, but she still loves both her parents equally.

6 - when buying clothes, she usually looks for anything that's really really pretty. But she also looks out for comfort. If something is pretty but uncomfortable, she's going to reluctantly put it back down and look for something else.

7 - her favourite subject while growing up was science class. She just loved it for no reason (yeah totally no reason- but her favourite topics were on the human body and organs and stuff)

8 - Chocolate is one of her favourite things and dark chocolate is her go to.

9 - She can run surprisingly fast in her high heels. The police squad witnessed her chasing after somehow in heels and were all scared of her now.

10 - she’s an absolute menace on April Fools Day. Expect to be pranked by her. For example: Enzo walked into his lab, saw a present box, opened it and a glitter bomb exploded, covering him and hus workplace in pink glitter. Émile went to his tech lab, and ending up finding the entire place wrapped with wrapping paper. And everything was rearranged so it took time for him to get everything back into place. Those are just some examplesz

11 - Nadia absolutely loves stingrays. She doesn’t know why, but she just loves them.

12 - Nadia canonly has a cat. That cat is a British shorthair, and it’s stupid. It found it’s way into the catnip once and was high for a good amount of time.

13 - Nadia tried pottery once. She proceeded to make several cups and vases, before giving away some as gifts.

14 - Nadia likes hearts. She has a white ribbon (can be worn like a tie, used as a hair accessory etc) that has several little black hearts on it and she loves it.

15 - She has handcream on her all the time. Her hands gets dry as hell some times- so she uses it.

16 - some of Nadia’s favourite colours include grey, black, and red. She mainly likes monochrome colours cause she finds them easier to style, but it doesn’t stop her from having some bright or pastel colours im the mix.

17 - doesn’t get cold easily. She rarely gets cold, and most of the time if she wears a jacket it’s more likely used as decoration and not cause she’s actually cold.

18 - when she gives people gifts, she has a wide variety. She either gives you some kind of self care product (hand cream and lip balm stuff) or make up. She has also given people small portraits before, or pieces of clothing. When Carrie had first joined the police force, Nadia gave her a nice little ribbon to wear with her outfit.

19 - Nadia came to work in a suit one day. Everyone asked her why and she said: I was feeling classy so here I am.

20 - Nadia is really protective of her coworkers. She saw one of them getting harassed by a suspect, and she proceeded to run over and tried to fight the suspect. They had to stop her from body slamming the person while she was yelling them curses in French-

Forgot something-

This is all for now. Possibly will be a part 3 but I’m not sure. It’s 12:27am where I am at now so I’ll be sleeping. I won’t post anymore until I wake up/have free time. If you have any requests drop me a message or write it in the comments!

[yanderes-galore]

fuck it youre getting the long one! enjoy <3 part 2 of this is coming out on sunday if youre interested

anyway in this au adam really likes sweets and would dream about a candyland often. hes our protagonist :) he gets backrooms'd to it one night bc he ate apple pie. the place has pink skies, bright vibrant green grass and wafer paths, and there's a sign in the horizon that says "welcome to madeleine county". hes not even wearing a hoodie anymore hes wearing a pink suit with an apple accessory on his head.

bitch is greeted by another jonah who doesnt remember him and is lemon themed! he takes adam to the huge candy mansion to meet the others, me (cesar) and mark. (heads up i Will refer to cesar in first person for this since hes me) one thing to note is that whenever adam asks to leave, me and the rest of the gang would silence him and/or ignore him. we also distracted him with a lot of activities like tea parties n picnics n whatnot to prevent him from asking questions :) also i feel like its worth mentioning that i gave him his pie hood.

so anyway one day adam wants to go and take a walk but since hes not allowed to leave the mansion alone he goes with mark. they make small talk n shit and adam talks about how he misses the old jonah when marks like. "be careful bro dont let the bright colours of this place blind you" and like. stopped to ask adam to check if "he" was watching to which adam turns and sees me peeking out the window <3 the two head back inside since its so late and adam cant sleep at all since hes questioning what the fuck mark meant.

so anyway jonah comes in that night to give a gift to adam (a matching apple earing, even though adams ears arent pierced) and jonah is like. very sad with adam since mark supposedly told jonah about how he missed his home. he does Not want adam to leave at all since he was so lonely without adam. i should mention that this bitch is very much obsessed with adam dont call him yandere though the creator of the au specifically asked not to call him one👍

on the third day adam woke up late and i scolded him for it and also the chat with mark i had. this is the part where everything starts to rot. the colours are dull, the wallpaper is peeling, the floors are worn down n shit and also my strawberries are going bad! i banned adam from talking to mark to force him to talk to jonah more. the two go out fishing for some candy fish in the pond. jonah is obvs very happy to spend time with adam, and asks if he's going to stay, to which he does Not want to stay and jonah is v passive aggressive for the rest of the activity.

anyways dinner time we're eating the fish adam and jonah caught and everything is quiet until adam starts ranting about how something is off. i shut him up and everythings quiet and mark gets up and desperately screams at adam to leave while he still can. i drag mark off, saying he's "feeling ill", which once again leaves adam and jonah alone. adam asks jonah if wanting to leave has something to do with this and jonah tells him to shut up and eat his fish. but its not candy anymore. its raw and rotting! anyways theres knocking at the door and jonah answers it which gives adam a chance to see what the hells going on with me and mark.

he follows the hallway i dragged mark off to, to which theres a trail of blueberry jam which slowly fades to red. he followed the trail which led to a big room with marks body on the floor with my cane covered in his blood </3 at the door were police officers (thatcher and ruth) asking about a missing person btw. adam stayed up late to prepare to strike that night.

he used his hood to carry weapons, like forks, sharp knives and even a blowtorch. he went down the hallway the jam was on, to notice a bunch of portraits of the same angel, obviously candy themed but they seemed to be watching him (this angel is presumably gabriel). i have no idea if this is important or not but i think im going to mention it anyway :) at the end of the hallway is the stairs to the basement, to which he finds mark on a plate, covered in his own blood with his eye missing. also theres a ton of missing posters everywhere.

he tells adam everything, down to how this place is only to lure people with sad lives in for their flesh, to how everything is rotting because im hungry and irritated about how adam wouldnt give in. he begs adam to go and that jonah has the key. he needs to leave before sunrise or else he will be there forever and he fuckin BEGS adam not to make the same mistake he did. adam notices mark's missing poster on the wall and gets to work.

as he gets out and goes up the hallway im there but EXTREMELY fucked up (and hot apparently) and with a massive fucking fork. simplifying yhis but essentially i try to kill adam but fuck up and he kills me👍 i think anyway. i melt into stuff. regardless when adam makes it to jonahs room jonah is also fucked up and taunts him n shit with a fake key but adam manages to slice him in half. jonah is still moving and talking and brings up adams mom, to which adam straight up cuts jonahs face. he grabs the key which was actually INSIDE jonah.

he wastes no time and gets to the officers, whom he begs to let him come with them and also traumadumps about what happened. and then some other guy (dave lee) runs in and says there's doors appearing everywhere at the station. the door was his way out and it looked just like his bedroom door, the door he went through to get in the place in the first place. so when adam wakes up the real jonah is there and adam traumadumps but jonah just says its a bad dream. jonah grips adams shoulder and is like "arent you happy to be home just like you wanted" and also theres the same shit me and dessert jonah were made of on jonahs hand.

that should be about it feel free to ask questions i am very normal about this au as you can tell

My lord....

That's a lot to take in.

I think it's an interesting take on TMC though, like Alice in Wonderland.

"Adam in Wonderland". LOL

[strawberryspotsstuff]

i can confirm whenever im in ur ask box im like screaming at you and grabbing your shoulders and shaking you while i send requests ANYWAYS !!!!!

i am very politely asking if u can write another oc x canon for my silly little gabriel boy https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/liminxl/693809645743144960?source=share lemme explain his personality bc clearly its not explained in the image, basically gabriel is VERY shy, a very bashful guy if you will; you compliment him just the tiniest bit and hes all flustered and cant speak,, he doesnt really like communicating that often BUT,,, he really enjoys being around oliver so i was like "what if oliver just,,,,,, subtly flirts with this guy because he really likes him and gabriel is just *evaporating screaming emoji meme*" ty and i hope ur having a great day/night :]

OOOOO!!!!

flirty oliver :)))))

⋆｡��☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Oliver x OC, Gabriel

It was a cold night in Dialtown, it was quiet, other then the distance crow or fighting of stray cats. Most shops had closed for the night except Dialtown's only cinema. The neon sign flickered a soft colour of red and pink on the pavement, and it's old swinging doors, slightly cracked open to let in a cool breeze.

Gabriel giggled loudly, overall flustered as Oliver leaned closer to him.

"You're so cute when you giggle" Oliver cooed, resting his head on his palm.

The colourful and warm, vibrant lights flickered throughout the worn out cinema. The salty and buttery smell of popcorn, and racks of candy and chocolate showed off in a colourful display case, Oliver leaned over the counter, teasing Gabriel.

"Y'know I should sneak you into a movie, how about it? A real scary one, horror." Oliver teased, Gabriel tugged on his sleeve.

"Really? Uhh, why?" Gabriel squeaked.

"So then you can cuddle up next to me, during the scary parts" he hummed out, his hand sliding over the cold countertop and gripping onto Gabriel's hand.

"Well if, you're going to be with me, I guess it will be... alright" Gabriel softly whispered.

Oliver clapped his hand his hands, scooping up bags of candy and chocolate from under the counter, and two slushies, giggling. If he had a face he would wink at Gabriel as he ran from the counter and raced off to one of the showing booths, Gabriel quickly scampering after him.

Having the cinemas for themselves, they took the back seats, getting comfy and ((somehow??)) chowing down on treats and drinks. Oliver snuggled up to Gabriel as the movie started, Gabriel freezing, his body sweating.

"C'mon, chow down on the snacks, and your slushie is melting!" Oliver whispered softly.

Gabriel nodded, his body was so stiff as he watched the movie, at some point of the movie they both got comfy with each other, Gabriel flinching at some of the scenes, Gabriel chuckling, hugging him closer.

When the movie finished, Gabriel was fast asleep in Oliver's arms, mumbling garbled words in his dreams. Oliver sleepily watched him, chuckling to himself as he hugged him tighter, his head resting on Gabriel's shoulder, before passing out himself.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

YIPEEEE!! ((yknow at some point i might make and share a my dialtown oc))

[violet-of-the-stars]

here it is👍

anyway in this au adam really likes sweets and would dream about a candyland often. hes our protagonist :) he gets backrooms'd to it one night bc he ate apple pie. the place has pink skies, bright vibrant green grass and wafer paths, and there's a sign in the horizon that says "welcome to madeleine county". hes not even wearing a hoodie anymore hes wearing a pink suit with an apple accessory on his head.

bitch is greeted by another jonah who doesnt remember him and is lemon themed! he takes adam to the huge candy mansion to meet the others, me (cesar) and mark. (heads up i Will refer to cesar in first person for this since hes me) one thing to note is that whenever adam asks to leave, me and the rest of the gang would silence him and/or ignore him. we also distracted him with a lot of activities like tea parties n picnics n whatnot to prevent him from asking questions :) also i feel like its worth mentioning that i gave him his pie hood.

so anyway one day adam wants to go and take a walk but since hes not allowed to leave the mansion alone he goes with mark. they make small talk n shit and adam talks about how he misses the old jonah when marks like. "be careful bro dont let the bright colours of this place blind you" and like. stopped to ask adam to check if "he" was watching to which adam turns and sees me peeking out the window <3

the two head back inside since its so late and adam cant sleep at all since hes questioning what the fuck mark meant. so anyway jonah comes in that night to give a gift to adam (a matching apple earing, even though adams ears arent pierced) and jonah is like. very sad with adam since mark supposedly told jonah about how he missed his home. he does Not want adam to leave at all since he was so lonely without adam. i should mention that this bitch is very much obsessed with adam👍

on the third day adam woke up late and i scolded him for it and also the chat with mark i had. this is the part where everything starts to rot. the colours are dull, the wallpaper is peeling, the floors are worn down n shit and also my strawberries are going bad! i banned adam from talking to mark to force him to talk to jonah more.

the two go out fishing for some candy fish in the pond. jonah is obvs very happy to spend time with adam, and asks if he's going to stay, to which he does Not want to stay and jonah is v passive aggressive for the rest of the activity.

anyways dinner time we're eating the fish adam and jonah caught and everything is quiet until adam starts ranting about how something is off. i shut him up and everythings quiet and mark gets up and desperately screams at adam to leave while he still can. i drag mark off, saying he's "feeling ill", which once again leaves adam and jonah alone. adam asks jonah if wanting to leave has something to do with this and jonah tells him to shut up and eat his fish. but its not candy anymore. its raw and rotting! anyways theres knocking at the door and jonah answers it which gives adam a chance to see what the hells going on with me and mark.

he follows the hallway i dragged mark off to, to which theres a trail of blueberry jam which slowly fades to red. he followed the trail which led to a big room with marks body on the floor with my cane covered in his blood </3 at the door were police officers (thatcher and ruth) asking about a missing person btw. adam stayed up late to prepare to strike that night. he used his hood to carry weapons, like forks, sharp knives and even a blowtorch.

he went down the hallway the jam was on, to notice a bunch of portraits of the same angel, obviously candy themed but they seemed to be watching him (this angel is presumably gabriel). i have no idea if this is important or not but i think im going to mention it anyway :)

at the end of the hallway is the stairs to the basement, to which he finds mark on a plate, covered in his own blood with his eye missing. also theres a ton of missing posters everywhere. he tells adam everything, down to how this place is only to lure people with sad lives in for their flesh, to how everything is rotting because im hungry and irritated about how adam wouldnt give in. he begs adam to go and that jonah has the key. he needs to leave before sunrise or else he will be there forever and he fuckin BEGS adam not to make the same mistake he did. adam notices mark's missing poster on the wall and gets to work.

as he gets out and goes up the hallway im there but EXTREMELY fucked up (and hot apparently) and with a massive fucking fork. simplifying yhis but essentially i try to kill adam but fuck up and he kills me👍 i think anyway. i melt into stuff. regardless when adam makes it to jonahs room jonah is also fucked up and taunts him n shit with a fake key but adam manages to slice him in half. jonah is still moving and talking and brings up adams mom, to which adam straight up cuts jonahs face. he grabs the key which was actually INSIDE jonah.

he wastes no time and gets to the officers, whom he begs to let him come with them and also traumadumps about what happened. and then some other guy (dave lee) runs in and says there's doors appearing everywhere at the station. the door was his way out and it looked just like his bedroom door, the door he went through to get in the place in the first place. so when adam wakes up the real jonah is there and adam traumadumps but jonah just says its a bad dream. jonah grips adams shoulder and is like "arent you happy to be home just like you wanted" and also theres the same shit me and dessert jonah were made of on jonahs hand.

thats about it for part 1👍 i will send you part 2 when its out if youre interested

OOOH INTERESTING! I love it! I knew that it wasn’t just gonna be all sunshine and rainbows, but I really like how dark it gets! Real disturbing. And you make for a really cool villain/pos. And!! Adam being the main character!! Is very cool!!

and yes yes I am very interested in volume two hheheh

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I’ve just finished rewatching 911 seasons 2-4 and there are a couple of things I noticed this time around

Chris only starts wearing dinosaur stuff and dinosaurs start appearing in his room after Ana has been introduced, he has subsequently stopped wearing dino stuff and the dinosaurs in his room are greatly reduced in number - it’ll be interesting to see if the dinosaurs completely disappear as Eddie completely let’s go of the notion of needing a mother figure for Christopher as season 5 progresses!

To go with this, we don’t start to see any of the space themed stuff until after Eddie has changed his will - almost as if Eddie himself has set the universe (screaming at him) in motion. It’ll be so interesting to see if more space stuff appears as we see more of Chris in season 5!

In 3x18 all the parents are in red/blue colourways at May’s graduation party.

The mothers - Athena and Maddie are both wearing red (Maddie doesn’t know she’s gonna be a mother yet but she is already pregnant). This is except henren who are both in mint green - no mother/father dynamic in this relationship, so a more neutral colour (associated with harmony, growth and stability - all things their relationship and family dynamic is at the end of season 3!) is worn.

While all the fathers are in blue - Michael, Chimney (who again at this point doesn’t know he’s a father) Eddie and Bobby (although Bobby’s is a very grey blue perhaps representative of his status as step parent!)

Most interesting to me is that Buck is in pink. Every time we’ve seen Buck do something in varying levels parental in relation to Christopher he’s been in either pink or red or in blue.

He’s in pink when he’s giving Eddie advice after the skateboard accident, the pink shirt during the tsunami and pink at Mays Graduation party (where he’s helping Chris leave a message for May!). All times when he’s dipping his toe in the parenting pool, this includes the tsunami - it’s the first time we see him being given that level of responsibility with Chris, so it’s fair to put this event in with other examples of him making tentative or small parental actions

He wears red when he’s telling Chris about Eddie being shot, and when Eddie is telling him there’s no one he trusts more - times when he’s having his parental ‘rights’ affirmed or when he’s having to step up into that role without Eddie’s presence.

When he’s stepping inside with Eddie he’s in blue - the video game hildy scene, adaptive skateboarding, making gingerbread houses, looking after Chris while Eddie’s in hospital (pale blue hoodie).

This is mostly interesting because he only wears blue around Christopher when Eddie either isn’t present, or when Eddie’s in a neutral colour - all happening with Eddie’s approval and or knowledge.

The other thing I’m going to be keeping an eye on is Buck wearing patterned stuff around Taykay - in s4 during the non date date he’s in a grey tv static jacket and in s5 there’s been the red/white pattern shirt and the black(or blue I can’t decide which) and white check shirt.

I think the reason I picked up in this is because as a costume designer I always used small patterned fabrics on characters to show disordered thinking/ situations - block colours or large prints work better on camera while smaller prints, checks etc can cause banding and flaring through the lens so they’re generally avoided unless you are trying to say something specific! Generally Buck always wears blocks of colour (the exceptions being the red plaid shirt in season 1 in the therapists office and the pinstripe in 4x13&14) and so this use of small patterned fabric on him is about something not being right - being uncomfortable with a situation or someone.

Im sure much of this has been said already (especially within the red/blue colour theory stuff), so I’m probably not adding anything new to the discussion, but I needed to get it out of my head and I do think it’s all interesting now season 5 is gathering pace and we can watch to see where it all goes and if our theories hold up 😎

Just updating this post to link to one I’ve made about Bucks season five costumes

[chil2de]

i know you write a lot for akaashi but i would really like to see a domestic fluff oneshot w/ him. i just wanted to say that i adore your writing and it’s the most unique and eloquent thing i have read in my entire life. i love you and thank you for all of your hard work.❤️

i do - akaashi keiji x reader

anon🥺🥺🥺 pls i love u thank u for requesting i dont mind writing for the same character a lot it really isnt an inconvenience so please don’t worry about it, i just ask that u might have to wait a while for ur request, tysm for the support pls😔 you’re so sweet i genuinely cannot fathom it i, im sorry this piece isnt as long as my others but i will feed all my akaashi fans soon :) i love you and i hope that you enjoy

timeskip!akaashi keiji x reader

the cadmium yellow sponge had worn down thanks to its many weeks of service, dancing between a fine line of murky brown and from what it used to look like originally. you hummed pleasantly, singing a familiar lullaby as you worked your arms, scrubbing the dishes back and forth. a small scratching sound resounded against the clanging porcelain. the water leaking from the faucet sounded like a mini waterfall, cascading from the main plumbing and pouring down into the sink before. a few soapy bubbles made way into your lungs, causing you to momentarily cough. you gazed out at the window in front of the sink, staring out at the sky in your apartment. it was a beautiful mid spring evening with a mild pleasant breeze whispering through the open balcony. the fiery orange sun hung its head low in the sky, turning over to fall asleep for the night- the sky painted deep and enticing gradients of orange pink and purple. you felt the warm sunlight radiate off of your face, soft kisses warming up your body temperature.

“(y/n).” akaashi softly called out from the balcony. you hummed in acknowledgement, slipping off your latex gloves but opting to keep on your (favourite colour) apron just incase. you curled your fingers around the tall glass cup of iced tea, a few beads of condensation forming around the outside. you twisted the red and white striped straw, taking a sip as you made your way over to akaashi.

“sorry, were you busy?” he glanced over at your attire, eyes flickering to your lips. akaashi was perked up in the corner of the balcony, comfortable with his back against the wall, left leg bent up whilst the other stretched out in front of him. you giggled at the book that he clutched in one hand, his other curled around his right knee. he wore his soft cream coloured sweater, raven black curls distressed and curled into his gaze.

“‘s okay, what’s up?”

“could you clean these for me?” akaashi slid off his glasses, folding them over and gazing up at you. you beamed at him, watching the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. you took his glasses, holding them by the handles to not disturb the lenses. you returned momentarily, still wiping the lenses with precision. you held his glasses up at the light, looking through them for any missed and blurry spots.

you kneeled down to his eye level, carefully sliding them back on. he adjusted the back so that they sat on his ear correctly, his hands caressing yours in the process. you gave him a soft kiss onto his lips which he returned gratefully, pulling you in whilst he held you.

“have you finished cleaning?”

“not really, why?”

“i wanted you to sit with me but you should finish if you haven’t already”

“nooo! it’s fine, i’ll sit with you”

“seriously, you should go”

“pleaaaase, keiji?”

akaashi sighed in defeat, opening his legs up so you could sit in between him. you laughed, nestling down in between his thighs, your back pressed up against his chest. you could feel his heartbeat slowly thumping.

akaashi slid his right hand to you, slinging it over your lap and pulling you into him further. he rested his chin on the top of your head, slipping his book beside him for a moment.

“want a drink?” you inquired, lifting the cup up. he hummed for a second, curling his fingers around yours before tilting the cup towards him. he sipped slowly on the straw, ruffling your hair as thanks.

you set the cup down on the floor, away from either of you so that it wouldn’t get kicked over.

you leaned against him, tilting your head up to gaze at him.

you reached your fingertips out, grazing the skin at his neck.

he gazed down at you, slightly confused at what you were doing. you giggled, watching his facial expression soften as he intertwined his fingers in between yours,

akaashi brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, frowning.

“what’s wrong, keiji?”

“you shouldn’t keep your wedding ring on when you wash the dishes”

[orionwhispers]

Fools Gold // Tommy Shelby

(A/N - ok. i started this imagine in december but then life happened and here we are almost in march. this took a really long time to write and im honestly kind of iffy about it but i hope you guys like it. also side note - tommy is a MASSIVE dick in this and do not let a boy/girl/anyone treat you like this - this is purely fiction and irl if someone uses you like this then they are trash. also second side note im mean to grace in this but I have a lot of feelings ok. LOVE U GUYS)

Thomas Shelby needed a distraction.

His mind was hazy, like looking through a cloud of smoke. He saw Grace everywhere. Sunshine coloured hair reflecting on the grey puddles in the street, sapphire blue eyes watching him from the bluebells sitting on Polly’s desk, her soft laughter in his ears whenever he heard a bell chime. He wanted a distraction. He wanted a quick fix, something soft and warm that would fill the emptiness of his bed and the hole in his heart, but he never imagined just what that would cost.

The first time he saw you was on a Wednesday. The clouds were silver and the air was cold, and London was a welcome change in scenery. He was visiting Ada, in the city for business but wanting to see the kind face of his sister, some softness in his world of sharp. It was late at night, the moon round and full and the library almost empty, and he nodded at his sister in greeting as she filed away the last of the novels.

“Tommy.” She smiled, with rosy cheeks and tousled hair. “Let me just grab my coat and we’ll be off.”

She turned to speak to someone, and Tommy impatiently tapped his clipped fingernails along the edge of a desk, his brain always working, mentally relieving business deals in his head as he waited. He listened to the low hum of the roads outside and the incessant flickering of a street lamp through the window, turning slowly at the sound of footsteps approaching.

His breath hitched in his throat.

Standing beside his sister, all kind eyed and ink stained and sweet as strawberry ice cream was a girl. A girl that for the first time in a long time, made the memories in his brain curl off and vanish like wisps of smoke.

A girl that could be the perfect distraction.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright closing up? I’m sorry to rush off like this.” He didn’t register his sisters voice, his ocean blue eyes trained on you, with your cherry bitten lips and pink polished fingernails.

“Oh Ada, I’m fine. Have a lovely time.” You replied, voice just as honeyed as the rest of you. You gave Tommy a soft smile, wringing your hands together, slightly uncomfortable with the attention you had accidentally drawn to yourself.

He stepped forward without a second thought, his palm outstretched. You blinked back at him, like a deer caught in headlights. Ada had spoken about her brother; how he could sweet talk the devil, and how he was destined to rule the world with his golden mind and silver tongue. You had been intimidated by her words, and standing before him you felt utterly, hopelessly, mortal.

You tried to hide your nerves as you shook his hand, his large fingers engulfing yours and sending sparks down your spine. His blue eyes reminded you of the ocean, like a stormy sea and the smell of salt, and you were worried you might just drown. He wasn’t handsome. He was beautiful.

“My apologies for stealing my sister away.” He said, his voice even and still, warm like a summer breeze. “I’m Tommy.”

“(Y/N).” You replied, trying not to falter under his unwavering stare.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).”

You held his gaze for as long as you could, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks and your neck grow hot. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was what unsettled you the most. You had never been in the presence of someone so powerful and striking, and you felt so small next to him.

After a moment you pulled away, biting your lip gently and motioning to the overflowing bookshelves around you. “I should get back, it was nice to meet you. Have a nice night, Ada.” You smiled at your friend, before turning on your heel and walking away, feeling eyes bore into your back.

Tommy watched as you left, entranced by the swish of your skirt and the soft footsteps you took, and-the dizzying length of your tight clad legs. Ada tightened her scarf around her throat, a smirk on her face as she made her way to the door.

“Don’t even think about it Tommy.”

——————————————————-

It was hard for him not to.

That night, as he drove back to Birmingham, he pictured your pretty face, your teeth chewing on those rose coloured lips, the slight tremor in your words as you spoke. In the quiet of his bedroom, the moon watching him from high above, it was usually Grace who disrupted his nightly reflection. But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t her voice soothing him to sleep.

He knew he wasn’t going to fall in love. Grace might have been on the other side of the Atlantic with a husband that didn’t deserve her, but Tommy was a romantic, and he truly thought that one day they would reunite. Lizzie was a good fuck, but she was temporary. Now she was hired as his secretary he didn’t want to blur the lines of their relationship, and he could already feel her growing too close for comfort. He didn’t need a girlfriend, especially when he knew that no one could compare to Grace, he didn’t need another person to worry about and he certainly didn’t need another broken heart. But what he did need was something to fill the void.

It was easy to find you, even with just your first name. He spoke to one of his informants in London, under the guise of ‘looking for a new assistant’ and the following day he had a stack of papers sitting on his desk.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). You worked at the library two days a week, and spent the other three training as a nurse. There were no previous addresses or references from past jobs, just your current flat and the hospital where you worked part time. There was nothing personal, no mention of family or relatives nearby, just a slightly faded photograph of you taken before the war. You weren’t looking at the camera, your eyes occupied elsewhere, almost as if you were shying away from the photographer. You looked younger, but just as beautiful and Tommy thumbed the worn print between his fingers; careful not to smudge your face, a fingertip trailing along your lips.

———————————————————-

The flowers came three days after you had met.

You had been at the hospital learning how to properly stitch wounds, and your head was numb from processing so much information. You were exhausted, droplets of rain splattering across your collar and down the back of your blouse, and you were desperate for the warmth of your bed. You toyed with the keys in your pocket, finger running across the ridges so that you could get in as quickly as possible, but you fumbled when you noticed a spark of crimson on your doormat.

It must have cost at least a hundred pounds. Rich, ruby red roses all neatly clipped and arranged, their petals healthy and as soft as butter, and the gold foil writing on the box was of a store on the other side of London, one you had been too intimidated to even step foot in. You assumed that it was for Mrs Kim upstairs, or perhaps a gift from Ron to Mark after they had one of their colossal rows, but as you reached for the label, you felt your brow furrow.

“It really was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Regards, Tommy Shelby.”

You left them in your kitchen, squashed into the only vase you owned, clipping them practically to the wick to get them all to fit. You ignored them as you ate dinner, the radio nothing but noise in the background. You tried not to think of them as you sank into a scalding hot bath, or as you clambered into bed, and it worked - because what you thought of as you drifted off to sleep wasn’t ruby red roses, but ocean blue eyes.

——————————————————————

Two more bouquets came in two weeks. Both just as lavish and extravagant as the first, and both sitting in the biggest drinking glasses you owned. Your flat smelt like a florists’, and pollen lingered on your clothes all day, a constant reminder of the man who had sent them. You busied yourself with work, letting the day to day distractions of the injured occupy your mind. The hospital had needed an extra pair of hands and you needed experience, but when you finally returned to the library, you cornered Ada as she restocked the shelves.

“Oh (Y/N)!” She smiled, as pure and fresh as new snow. “It’s not been the same without you.”

“I don’t want a boyfriend.”You blurted out, eyes wide.

You had hoped to say something more eloquent, but Ada’s jet black hair and similarity to her brother made you fall pathetically at the last hurdle. Her eyebrows shot up, and you inhaled deeply. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Please tell Tommy, thank you for the flowers, but I’m not really looking for something right now.”

“Tommy sent you flowers?” There was curiosity evident in her voice as she stepped forward, heeled boot clicking against the floor.

“Well, more like three bouquets.”

“Wow.” Her brows almost reached the pendant light dangling from the ceiling.

“I thought you knew - I mean, I thought you gave him my address.”

She shook her head, a small smirk dancing in her face. “Nope. But that’s never stopped Tommy before.”

You exhaled, looking up at her and chewing on the bottom of your lip. “You know that I - I can’t. I don’t think I’m ready, you know, after everything...”

Ada was your closest friend, she had been since she arrived in London. Beautiful and intelligent, with her young son and quick wit - you remembered meeting her on her first day at the library, feeling nervous and intimidated by such a confident and clever woman, but barely a week passed and it felt as though you had known her your entire life. As the months flew by, the two of you would often go for drinks or dinner by the river, staying out till midnight and laughing until your ribs felt tough. She trusted you enough to let you babysit Karl, the little boy calling you his Auntie and making your insides swell with pride. And finally, on a warm summer night, with her cherry red lips and coal black eyeliner, the two of you watching the sun set from the balcony of her expansive house, she opened up to you.

As the sky darkened and you shared champagne and strawberries in the open air, she told you about her family and her past. Her voice was smaller than you had ever heard it, such a powerful woman almost seeming meek as she bore her soul to you. She told you about Freddie, the headstrong and golden hearted man she had fallen for, and you intertwined your fingers when she spoke about his death. She told you about her reasons for arriving in London, cautiously speaking about a gang that roamed the streets back home, you listened intently, eyes wide when she revealed that the main members were of her own blood.

She trusted you inexplicably, telling you things that she had burrowed away for years and that meant the world to you. So under the moonlight, you tipped your head back and emptied your glass, blinking back tears as you explained your own past, the one you had been running from.

Now though, she pressed a kind hand to your shoulder, her eyes softening ever so slightly and it broke you away from your thoughts.“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’ll tell Tommy to keep his cock in his pants.” She winked at you, making you let out the breath that you had been holding, a relieved chuckle escaping from your throat.

She tugged your sleeve gently, motioning to the overflowing pile of dog eared novels by her feet. “Come and help me sort all this out.” She said “And let me fill you in on my date yesterday.”

Ada phoned Tommy as soon as she arrived home. He answered on the third ring, his voice tired and thick with smoke, his exhaustion evident through the speaker. One mention of you however, and he perked up like he had downed three shots of espresso. Work had been fucking awful, and imaging you and those rosebud lips was a pleasant distraction from the ache in his skull.

Ada told him to back off, and he could practically feel his sisters stern expression despite being 100 miles away from her. “She’s too nice for you Tommy, and not interested. Besides aren’t there enough girls in Birmingham? Why do you have to come after the one I’ve actually made friends with?”

Tommy had rolled his eyes. He loved his sister, but he didn’t feel like explaining his reasoning to her. He knew that she would never approve, never really understand him.

“You know I want you to find someone, especially after...” She inhaled sharply, choosing her words carefully. “Look, Tommy, you’ll find someone, but just not (Y/N), yeah? She’s been through a lot.”

He hummed, not voicing his real thoughts, always liking to keep his cards close to his chest. He said his goodbyes and hung up, Ada’s words lingering in his brain. His spine had stiffened at the implication of Grace, he hated being reminded of the past, especially memories he was trying so hard to forget. But it wasn’t just that, there was something about the words she had chosen that had sparked a fire in his gut.

“She’s been through a lot.”

He wasn’t quite sure what she was insinuating, but to him, it made you all the more alluring. He would never pursue a woman who truly wanted nothing to do with him. He might not have been the textbook definition of a ‘good man’ but he respected those who turned him down - although it was very much a rarity. But there was something about you, something about the way that you had held his stare, the innocence in your eyes and the attractiveness that hung around you like sugar water.

He loved the chase, especially when the reward was as sweet as you.

—————————————————————-

He waited outside your flat, hands in his pockets and peaked cap low on his head. It was almost six and he knew that you would be returning from the hospital soon, so he crossed his legs, leaning on the doorframe with a cigarette between his lips, secondhand smoke curling in the air.

He heard you before he saw you; the hiss of the cold air as you fought with the heavy door, the clunk of your patent loafers across the concrete and the jangle of your keys in your palm. He smiled to himself. Watching as you walked up the stairs, rifling through papers in your hands and then looking up suddenly, your eyes widening with shock.

“Tommy.” You said, filled with genuine surprise, clutching your handbag tightly, sure that you would drop it otherwise.

He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue.

He reached forward, steadying your wobbling hands and collecting the papers before they could scatter down the hallway. You stiffened at the contact, but he held you secure.

“Is Ada alright?” You asked quickly, hoping his impromptu visit didn’t come with bad news. He looked down and felt his stomach twist at the sight of your long lashes and shining wide eyes.

He shook his head. “My sisters fine. I actually came here for you.”

“Me?”

“Ada rang me, and I wanted to apologise for being so forward. It wasn’t my intention.”

You straightened, pulling slightly away from his hands. “You could have called, or written a letter.” The words came out slightly sharper than you had hoped, but you felt bristled by his sudden appearance.

He smiled. A half tug that looked boyish and cheeky, almost a smirk, and you hated the way that it made your heart flutter. “Well, yes, but that would have meant not seeing you in person.”

You fought back your own embarrassed grin, feeling blush rise from your throat to the plump of your cheeks. A flicker of humour sparked in his eyes, feeling triumphant at getting even the smallest of responses from you. The heat around your collar was turning such a delicious shade of red, like a honeycrisp apple, and it was hard for him to look away.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You shifted on one foot, trying not to look into his milky blue eyes, knowing that if you did he would have you hook, line and sinker. “Tommy... I don’t know.”

“Just one dinner and I’ll be out of your hair.”

You exhaled, feeling yourself starting to cave. “Okay. One dinner. And nowhere fancy.”

Five minutes later and you were out the door. You had slipped off your work uniform and stepped into a lavender beaded dress and a pair of modest kitten heels. You hated the way you double checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the stray hairs by your forehead, placing a cool hand to your chest to try and level your breathing. You didn’t put on any makeup, you weren’t trying to give Tommy the wrong idea.

You reminded yourself that you were just going to dinner, as friends. Nothing more.

Tommy watched you under the shimmering lights of the club. The rhythmic clash of the jazz band echoed all around him, beautiful women laughed and swayed on the dance floor, and the air was thick with smoke and bitter whisky, but his attention was solely cast at you.

Your head was down, and you were picking at the food on your plate. The expensive bottle of red wine sat opened in the middle of you both, your glass untouched and his filled halfway.The owner had recognised him immediately and sent over the gift, and he didn’t miss the caution that flashed on your face at the gesture.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” He asked, voice smooth like silk.

You looked up at him. “No, thank you though. I have an early shift in the morning.”

He nodded, cutting through his steak, a sliver of blood on his knife. “How long have you been a nurse?”

He already knew, but he wanted to hear your answer.

“Well, I’m technically not a nurse - not yet. I’m still training, but I only have a few months to go.” You smiled, and he watched as your whole face lit up as you talked about your passion. “I’ve always wanted to do it. Now I finally am.”

“Well, I think that’s very admirable.”

“And what do you do?”

“Oh. I’m a bad man.” He said, as if it was the most causal thing in the world. His cobalt eyes flickered from his plate to you, holding you hostage in his gaze.“But I’m sure Ada’s told you all about that.”

You inhaled. “I try not to judge people based on rumours.”

“Even if they hold some truth in them?”

You didn’t say anything. You swirled around the spaghetti on your plate, spearing your fork through a pea. After a moment you cleared your throat, daring to look up at him.

“I think the world has changed. Times have moved on, and sometimes it requires a firmer hand to get where you want to be.”

Tommy paused, genuinely taken aback by your reply. You had been so timid and placid before, but now there was an intensity to your words, one that he found particularly alluring.

“It doesn’t mean that I agree, but - ” You sighed. “A few years ago, I was turned down by a nursing school; they said I was too young and too inexperienced and... it really shattered my confidence. I was going to give up completely, but instead I decided to keep studying, and I was working three jobs to just make ends meet. When I applied again I made sure that there was no way they would reject me.”

Your eyes flickered up momentarily as you chewed on your upper lip. “All I’m saying is, sometimes you have to work hard to get what you want.”

Tommy mulled over your words, tongue running over his teeth. He picked up the stem of his wine glass and held it towards you in a toast. His eyes caught yours and his stare was unwavering, the edge of his lips unturned in a boyish smirk.

“To getting what we want.”

———————————————————-

You really, truly, honestly, didn’t want to enjoy your dinner with Tommy - but you did. The night was so easy, after a while you managed to find a comfortable niche and the conversation flowed like running water. As time passed you found yourself giving into habits that you thought you had left behind, like tucking a loose curl behind your ear, or giggling into your hands, a warm shade of pink staining your skin. Tommy watched you, the anchor on his chest lifting slightly, the way it always did when he found himself getting his way.

He walked you home with his suit jacket draped over your shoulders; despite your protests, leaving you smelling like whisky sours and cigarettes. He could feel your apprehension as you stood under the archway of your apartment building. The wind had picked up and rain was drizzling onto the both of you, and his stomach tightened when you looked up at him with raindrops coating your eyelashes. He was waiting for you to speak first. If he had his way, he would be joining you in your flat, pressing you up against the wall and kissing your lips until they were swollen. He wanted to untangle the braid in your hair, unlace the dress that made you look ethereal and feel you breathless under him, but he remained patient.

The truth was that even though you had only spent one evening alone, the constant buzz of work and life in his brain had faded into static. (There was only one woman who had ever made it fully fade, but now he knew now to take whatever he could get). He had genuinely enjoyed the night, even without the guarantee of ending it in your bed. It was pleasant to spend a few hours talking about something other than business deals or brutality, to fill silences with stories about films you had seen or your misbehaving patients.

He would be satisfied with a goodnight kiss, to taste the sweetness of your lips and feel the curve of your waist under his palm. He liked the way that the nerves you had started the night with were flittering under your skin once again; it made him feel good, it made him feel wanted, it made him feel powerful. It would be enough to sate him over until the next time you met up - because believe him, there would be a next time - but even he couldn’t stop the flare of surprise that splashed over his face when you simply handed him back his jacket and darted up the stairs.

“Thank you for dinner, Tommy. Have a good night.”

Underneath the broken bulb in your hallway, with his expensive patent shoes slowly filling with water, he let out a loud, genuine, chuckle.

—————————————

A few days passed, and whilst your evening with Tommy still lingered in your mind, work was much too hectic for you to be wrapped up in distractions. There were no more surprise bouquets or unannounced visits, and no phone calls at the end of your shifts either, you knew you should have been relieved, but you couldn’t ignore the tiny flicker of disappointment. You decided to tell Ada, mentioning your dinner casually the next time that you saw her, dropping it into conversation as though it wasn’t a monumental piece of gossip.

“You did what?” Her voice echoed around the expansive library and you playfully shushed her, pointing to the people reading on the floor below.

“It’s not that big of a deal!”

“Psh! Easy for you to say!” She huffed, elbowing you in the ribs as she meticulously rearranged the books on the shelf in front of her. “I thought you were... you know...” She waved her hand like she was wafting smoke from her face, a clear indication of what she thought you were going to do to her brother.

You sighed, wiping the dust from a hardcover. “I know, I know. But he’s... charming.”

“Yeah, like a fox.”

You laughed at her blunt tone. She turned away and continued working, her shoulders shrugging with her movements. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will, mum.” You tugged on the bottom of her hair like a child, making her meet your line of sight. “Honestly, Ada, it was a nice night, but it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere. I have no plans to see him again - ever.”

Your intentions were shattered as you left the hospital one evening, stopping dead in your tracks when you recognised the distinct peaked cap and felt the unmistakable domineering aura all around you. You tried to bite back the smile threatening to take over your entire face when you saw him leaning against a red brick wall, tall and cool, the kind of man that would have a million songs made about him.

You couldn’t deny the twist in your gut when he smiled at you, so cheeky yet smooth like rich dark chocolate. You felt the envious glances of the other nurses leaving their shifts around you, bubbling with jealousy and curiosity. You didn’t even care that you would be the main topic of discussion at the next tea break on Monday, as much as you hated to admit it, you felt like the world around you was blurring, leaving nothing but the two of you.

“Is this a social call, Tommy? Or should I get the first aid kit.” You called out under the noise of the streets around you, your voice deceivingly controlled.

He flipped his leather notebook closed, one you hadn’t even noticed he was so engrossed in, sliding it into his pocket and uncrossing his legs, his eyes shining with humour.

“No, not tonight. Although I’ll know where to come if I ever need it.”

You came to a stop just before him, not trusting yourself to get too close.“What can I do for you, Thomas?”

He didn't comment on the space you had left between you, but you knew that he had noticed it. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet, nimble fingers rifling through until he pulled out two stubs of paper.

“I have tickets for the play tonight.”

You felt your eyes widen as he showed you the passes. You had made an offhand comment at dinner about wanting to see this particular play, one that you didn’t think he had even noticed, but he was obviously more observant than you had given him credit for.

“Wow. That’s great.” You smiled, “Well, I hope you have a lovely night.” You winked at him, turning on your heel but he grabbed the edge of your sleeve, pulling you back towards him.

“I think it’ll be a little rude of me if I show up alone, and besides, a lot of these things tend to go over my head, I think I might need somebody to help me understand everything.”

You wanted to resist. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to be strong and admit that the fortress you had built around yourself wasn’t ready to start crumbling down, not just yet.

But you couldn’t.

You knew that this could all be a mistake. Letting people in wasn’t something you were used to, especially not someone as charming and handsome as Tommy. But you found yourself liking him, as though he had some kind of magnetic hold over you, pulling you closer even when you wanted to run.

“Tommy I - It’s kind of you, but I don’t think it’ll be wise.”

“Please.” He said, and hearing such a vulnerable word coming from his mouth made your throat constrict. “I know that I’m being forward and feel free to tell me to piss off, but honestly, I had such a wonderful dinner with you and I would love to take you out again. And besides, you’re my only friend here in London.”

“What about your sister?”

“Oh we’re really not that close.” He teased.

You laughed, chewing on your lip so harshly you thought you might draw blood. Despite the protests in your brain you reached out and took a ticket, looking up at him with those big eyes that made his toes curl.

“Fine.”

The theatre was beautiful. It was wide and open, with red velvet seats and high ceilings. It was the prefect escape, laughing and gasping with the audience as the actors fought and danced on stage, magnificent hand painted back drops making you feel like you were no longer in London. You ate truffle coated popcorn and drank glasses of champagne, all sent over by the ushers that recognised Tommy instantly, practically bowing to him when you both arrived.

But Tommy truly couldn’t care less for whatever was happening in front of you both, because he was completely captivated by you. He liked when you tipped your head back when you laughed, he liked the way your eyes lit up and followed the characters on stage, as though you were in a trance. He followed the curve of your nose and the pout of your lip under the cream coloured lights, unable to fight back the smile when you noticed him, blush rising up your neck like a tidal wave.

He walked you home that night, just like he had before, his jacket slung over your shoulders and his hand ghosting against yours. You seemed more open, your anecdotes a little more personal and your laugh a little louder, and he really felt like he might be getting somewhere. He liked making you giggle and the way you tucked into his side when a car raced by a little too fast, and he wasn’t even disappointed when you simply handed back his coat at the end of the night, a ghost of a smile on your lips - if anything it made him want you more.

The morning after the play, with eyes blurred from sleep and a migraine brewing behind your eyes, you found a still warm lemon loaf and a container of expensive coffee on your doorstep. You smiled as you tied your hair up messily with a powder pink ribbon you had around your wrist, placing the coffee inside by the kettle and half of the sickly sweet treat in your handbag, knowing you would need it to soften up Ada when you inevitably told her about the evening you had shared.

She had rolled her eyes and scolded you; reminding you to be cautious. And you wanted to be, really, but there was something about him that made you ignore the warning signs hammering in your chest, and before you knew it you were back under his arm when he next showed up on your doorstep.

He took you to a horse show on the other side of London, telling you that he needed another pair of eyes and a consultant for helping him choose a new mare. You had told him you knew nothing about horses, and yet he persisted, pulling you in with that damned smile and those ocean blue eyes. You had managed to get one over on him though, meeting him at his car the next day, dressed in a blood red gown that made his breath get caught in his throat. You looked beautiful, ethereal even, with your curled hair and shy eyes. And that colour red, the colour of sin against such a gentle soul made the fire in the pit of his belly reignite whenever he looked at you, but worst of all, was the way that colour reminded him of her.

He didn’t want to be wallowing in the past. So he allowed himself to get sucked into you, allowed the smell of your perfume and the sound of your voice and the warmth of your body distract himself from the blonde beauty that was clawing back into his mind.

He was waiting for you in his matte black car on his last night in London, and you tried to ignore the thump of your heart when you realised that he wanted to spend his final day in the city with you. He drove to Hyde Park, the sun was high and the sky was the cloudless, a long stretch of blue that seemed to go on forever. You walked across the grass, keeping your hands laced together so you wouldn’t risk brushing your fingertips against his, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hide the goosebumps that would rise on your skin.You watched him smoke, inhaling and exhaling smoothly, blowing out nicotine like it was water, and he smiled when he caught your eye.

“Why did you bring me here today?” You asked finally, when the two of you came to a stop by the edge of the pond, watching the ducks and swans swim between the reeds.

“I like appreciating beautiful things.” He said, tilting his head so he was looking you in the eye.

You sighed, watching the sun reflect diamonds from the water. “I don’t understand you, Tommy, and that makes me nervous.” He didn’t know what to say, and so he let you continue. “How much has Ada told you about me?”

“Nothing. She’s a good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.” You murmured, and he watched the way your eyes glossed over, like you were replaying a million memories in your head. “You know, she told me to stay away from you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t know why you’re pursuing me.” Your voice was small, like the ripples that lapped over the top of the pond.

The truth is he didn't either. He knew it was wrong, using you as a way to get over Grace, but he’s never been known for having the most ethical methods. Doesn’t he deserve this? For everything he does, for the money he makes and the lives he’s built for his family, doesn’t he deserve something kind and pretty and gentle? Doesn’t he deserve a distraction from all the noise?

You reached into your handbag, rummaging around through the loose lipsticks and many receipts that you’ve shoved inside. He peered as you pulled out a small coin purse, rose coloured and no bigger than your palm. You unclasped the two little pearls at the top, and he noticed your fingers shaking ever so slightly, like a leaf in the wind.

You pulled out a picture and handed it to him, dog eared and greying but unmistakably you, laughing into the cheek of a young man, his arms slung over your shoulder. Tommy looked over at you, but you were watching the water, jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“Who is he?”

“Steven.” You cleared the lump residing in your throat, the one that always surfaced when you spoke about him. “We lived next door to each other, he was my first kiss, my first love, my first - everything.”

Tommy felt a pang in his gut like a sucker punch, he could hear the hurt in your words, he knows it too well, because it’s the same that echoes around his skull whenever he thinks about Grace.

You continued, “We were together since primary school, and all through secondary. I really thought we were going to be with each other forever.” You sniffled, and Tommy knows what you’ll say before you’ve even formed the words, because he’d been through the horrors himself. “He was a few years older than me though, and then he... and then he got drafted.”

“He was never made for the war. No one is, not really, but he was special. He was so kind and gentle and funny, and it wasn’t fair. We got married the day before he was sailing to France. I wore my mothers dress, it was too big and a few buttons were broken, but it was perfect. We were just kids in love.”

The silence that followed told Tommy everything he needed to know, and his gut felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. He wanted to reach out and touch you, the sadness radiating off of you like perfume, but he kept his hands to himself.

“How did it happen?” Tommy asked after a moment, knowing that you might not be able to bring up the subject unless he did.

“Second battle of Somme. Front line. They said he took the bullet instead of his comrade, jumped in the way to save him. They said he died quickly, that he wasn’t in much pain.”

“He died a hero.”

“He shouldn’t have died at all.”

Tommy agreed with that.

“The war took too many good men.” His voice was growing as sullen as his eyes, thinking back to a time that always sucked the life from him, his mind growing hazy with thoughts of the trenches and mud on his feet, sticky blood staining his hands.

“And destroyed those left behind.”

He inched closer to you. He was so tall and stoic, eyes focused on the water in front of you yet you felt completely seen, something about him making you feel content. Above you, the clouds were darkening, a chill whipping around you both. He brushed his shoulder against yours, the fabric making you shiver slightly, and he grabbed your wrist gently, intertwining your fingers with his, making the first move because he knew you couldn’t.

“Come on,” He said, voice raspy and thick like billowing smoke. “We don’t want to get stuck in the storm.”

The rain was torrential. It was almost comical how quickly the clouds gathered and darkened, spitting droplets from above that trickled down and splattered the both of you. You giggled as you ran to the car, Tommy holding his jacket above the two of you, your heels splashing through puddles. It felt like a weight had lifted from your chest, when you opened the car door and bolted inside, breathless and wild. It had always been hard to talk about Steven, the words getting stuck in your throat like thick honey, but the relief of having it out in the open was enormous. You didn’t realise just how much of the past you were holding onto.

Raindrops were scattered along Tommy’s fine leather seats, the bottom of your dress painted with a faint layer of mud. His windshield wipers squealed as the cleared away the water, the car thick with tension and heat rising from your damp bodies. It was late by the time you made it back to the centre of the city, the rain still cascading down loudly onto the pavement around you. You could hear your blood rushing to your ears, the kind of constant hum that made you feel as though you were being held underwater.

Your whole body was bubbling with apprehension, you could feel Tommy moving behind you, the edge of his jacket brushing against your arm. You couldn’t find your keys inside your handbag, struggling from adrenaline and the icy chill of the air. Wet hair clung to your forehead, and you were certain your mascara was halfway down your cheeks, and you turned to Tommy to apologise for your clumsiness, but he was already gazing at you.

You were looking up at him, so innocent and so gentle and so beautiful under the soft glow of the navy sky and the twinkling stars and all he really wanted was to kiss you senseless - so he did.

He tasted like sweet mint and nicotine, and you tasted like woodsmoke and wisteria. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, it wasn’t like stealing kisses in the alley when you were sixteen, or clumsy kisses in the bed you shared with Steven, this was intense and passionate and all consuming. Tommy allowed you to devour him, the smell of you overpowering his senses and he buried his soft aching hands in your messy hair.

His body was pressed against you, thick and hard against the velvet of your figure. You pulled away slowly, lips puffy and swollen and baby pink. You were blushing, red hot from nerves and exhilaration and you laughed sweetly against the crook of his neck, eyelashes fluttering against his flesh.

“Do you want to come inside?”

His fingertips were the paint coated brushes and your body was the perfect canvas. You reacted to his touch like it was everything you craved. Your kisses were open mouthed and messy, and he had to bite his tongue to stop the cascade of groans threatening to spill from his lips. Your pulses were synced, the low light of your bedroom made you look like a creature from a fairytale, and he touched you like you were made from glass. His hands were soft yet rough, you let him run his fingers through his hair and then leave bruises on your hip bones. He shuddered into your neck, sweat dripping onto your skin, whines leaving your mouth that he wanted to drill into his brain and remember for the rest of his life.

He was breathless. He closed his eyes as he laid down next to you, the sky outside black like coal. You had been perfect. He couldn’t hear the shovels. The usual constant battle in his brain was replaced by the salty memory of your skin, your hot breath against his ear, your legs tangling with his. He felt you next to him, curling into him slightly, your body still recovering and your toes twitching.

The bedroom was quiet, nothing but the creak of the wind against the window and the occasional pattern of rain against the glass. He felt his ears twitch when you opened your mouth, muffled and sleepy, a pang of sadness in your voice.

“Please don’t break my heart.”

He pretended to be asleep.

————————————————————-

He was gone when you woke up. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting, but cracking your eyes open to the lazy sunrise and the emptiness of your bed was as painful as a bullet in your spine. You felt embarrassed, looking down at the marks of your skin as you scrubbed away the night in the bath, running a warm flannel over your skin so many times that your flesh turned red. You felt ashamed; ashamed that you hadn’t listened to your best friend and ashamed that you had put your trust in someone that you knew would hurt you.

But deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t deny that you still liked him, still wished that he was with you. You knew it was wrong but you forgave him. You knew he had to leave early; perhaps he hadn’t slipped out the way you had thought, perhaps he had truly wanted to stay. You felt foolish and young and weak, but you missed the feeling of his lips and his skin, the weight of his hips against yours.

Two full weeks passed by until he showed up again. There were no calls, no surprise bouquets or impromptu visits, just the lingering feeling of shame on your body. You didn’t say anything to Ada, too mortified to admit that you had slept with her brother and he had run out before you had woken up. You knew that he was the one in the wrong, he was the one who deserved to feel like shit for treating you that way, but that didn’t stop the pounding of your own insecurities.

Rich raspberry wine and candied cherries, these were the remedy for a broken heart. You were sitting cross legged on the sofa, the radio crackling behind you, soft jazz lulling you into a relaxed daze. You were sewing the hem of one of your dresses, threading the needle and watching the stitches close. You had already downed two glasses of wine, loving the taste and the burn in your belly, and you groaned when you heard two sharp raps on the front door.

“Ron, did you forget your keys again?” You huffed, expecting to see your forgetful neighbour waiting for you, but almost catching your fingers in the door when you realised who it was instead.

“Hi.”

Piercing blue eyes and a jawline that could slice your palm, two things that you simultaneously adored and loathed. His hand curled around the door as you tried to slam it shut, pushing against you so it couldn’t be closed.

“Fuck off.”

“Please. Please. (Y/N).”

“No Tommy - Thomas. Fuck!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t give a shit.” You lied.

“Please just let me explain.” He said and you huffed, trying your hardest to not look at him for too long, it was like looking directly into the sun: painful and disappointing.

“I - No.”

“Please.”

Fuck him and that fucking voice.

You opened the door a crack, enough for him to slip through and into your flat. He looked so dark amongst the bright colours of your crockery and the yellow tulips planted on your windowsill. You moved backwards, trying to make yourself as small as possible, ignoring the ache growing inside of you, the ache to run into his arms and forgive him.

“I’m sorry for the way I left.” He scratched his forehead and cleared his throat, the sound echoing around the room. “There’s no excuse.”

“You made me look like a twat, Tommy.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” You said, but you weren’t sure if you meant it, liking the vulnerability in his words, the tenderness of his voice soothing you despite your inner anger.

He lifted his palm to run through his hair, jet black coat cloaking over him like a shadow. You saw it then, under the light of the blue moon, a gash tearing through the skin on his wrist.

“You’re bleeding.” You stated, and you saw his eyes widen slightly, looking at the wound on his arm as if he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Huh.”

“God, Tommy.” You inhaled, sucking air through your teeth, “Let me clean it, it looks like it needs stitches.” You hated yourself for giving in, knowing that the cut wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he was going to be leaving your flat in a stretcher, but you still cared for him, despite everything.

The smell of antiseptic wipes and the tangy metallic taste of blood filled your bathroom. You pressed on him a little too hard, smiling as he winced slightly. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence hang between the both of you, almost tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, those fucking sparkling eyes following the curve of your nose and the wave of your hair, lingering a little too long on your lips.

“I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You bit through the gauze, measuring it against his skin, anything to not meet his line of sight.

“I have a habit of ruining good things.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that line?”

“I thought you might hit me if apologised again.”

Against your better judgment, you laughed. “Yeah, I might have.”

His palm, warm and heavy and reminding you of the pressure of his body on top of yours, clasped over your own, making you still.

“Have I fucked everything up?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, not trusting your own voice. You felt the roughness of his fingertips circling your skin, languid like waves lapping across the shore. He inched closer towards you, smelling like fresh crisp apples and old cigarette butts, managing to always be the perfect mix of chaos and control. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You should have pushed him away, but you didn’t. You gave into the darkness of his blue eyes, the ring of lust forming around his pupils and the desire stirring in your belly like bubbling water. He tasted so sinful yet sweet and you were the perfect remedy for the terrible day he had, so receptive and angelic under his touch.

“If you rip your stitches, you’ll have to redo them yourself.”

He laughed into the soft, buttery flesh below your jugular, kissing your collarbones as his hands dragged you impossibly closer, lips crashing onto yours.

You fell asleep first. Hair cascading on your silk pillowcase, and he connected the freckles on your back like they were constellations. He could hear the gentle drip of the tap in the bathroom, and

the hum of the city around you. The noise in his head had stopped, but it still remained like a dull static in the back of his mind. He pushed it away though, focusing on the calming energy of your body and the tenderness of your touch.

He would be gone tomorrow.

He’ll let you wake up to him, he’ll drink the coffee in your kitchen and fuck you under the golden sunlight, open mouthed kisses shared in the confines of your apartment. But then he’ll leave again, giving you just enough to allow him to come back. He craved you, but it was medicinal, like a hit of opium when the shovels got too loud, not something he could afford to indulge in.

He looked over at you, fast asleep, your nose twitching slightly. He can’t give you what you want or what you deserve, but just for the night, in the quiet of your bedroom, with his hands on the curve of your hips, he’ll be the man that you want him to be.

—————————————————————-

His visits were sporadic and unpredictable. He would show up out of the blue, lurking around the back streets like a nomad, knocking on your door just before midnight, his hands covered in blood. On those nights you would clean him up, neither of you would speak as you washed away the crimson from his skin, rubbing ointment on the growing purple bruises on his knuckles. He would kiss you feverishly and wildly, desperate to feel your body so soft and pliant under his. Those nights he craved control, and you were the only person who would give it completely to him.

Sometimes he would show during the day, with a wide smile and an expensive suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He would take you to dinner or for walks down the canal, you might sit curled in his lap at the pictures or perhaps drive to a new city, his hand in yours, allowing you to pretend that you weren’t just the girl he came to when he wanted to feel something.

He would take you gently, almost romantically. In the back of his car or at a hotel that cost more for one night than your months rent, moulding your body under his like clay. He’d make you moan for him, the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he’ll relish in the attention you’ll give him. You’ll be the one thing that calms him after a hard days work, it’ll be your body and touch that unclench his fists and help calm his mind. He uses you like snow, strong, hard hits that leave him gasping for breath.

He’d always be gone before the sunrises. He’d wait for you to be asleep, hair around your head like a halo, lips puffy and swollen from clashing with his, fingertip shaped bruises across your hips. He’d never stay long enough to hear the disappointment in your voice, see the gloss that coats your eyes, the hurt pounding in your chest.

It stings like alcohol on a wound even when you’re expecting it. When you wake up and your bed is cold and empty, and your body is missing the warmth of his. You’ll give yourself a few moments to cry, take a scalding hot bath and scrub his smell from your flesh, tell yourself over and over that this is the last time. Never again. But you know as you make your way home, with a clouded head and aching legs, that the next time he shows up, you’ll let him stay.

———————————————————-

It had been almost a month.

A month of complete silence. You felt stupid but not surprised, the sadness nothing more than a dull pain in your chest now. You felt like you were just existing, not living. Constantly waiting for him to show up at your door and make your world start spinning again. You tried to distract yourself with work, but hearing the ladies gossip in the cafeteria about their loving boyfriends and amazing dates made the hole in your heart throb.

You hadn’t told Ada what had been going on, but she was your best friend, and you were certain she had already sussed it. You’d been skipping shifts at the library, spending more of your time cooped up in your flat or the hospital, opting for overnight shifts, anything to distract you from the loneliness of your bed.

Your cupboards were bare, cups of tea gone cold dotted all over your flat, and cobwebs starting to appear in the corners of your walls. You needed to go to the grocer and buy something that wasn’t bread or wine or chocolate. You were rooting through your purse, hands smelling like copper when you heard the shrill ring of your doorbell. Your heart stopped, but you didn’t get your hopes up; you were done waiting around for him like a bloody border collie.

You could see her silhouette behind the door, raven coloured ringlets and red lipstick. You sighed, running your fingers over the creases in your jumper before you opened the door, expensive french perfume wafting into your flat.

“You’re avoiding me.” She said sharply, waltzing inside, thick fur jacket brushing past you.

“No I’m not, Ada.”

“Yes you bloody are!”

You watched as she rummaged through your cupboards, pulling out two glasses and then flopping down on your sofa and patting the seat next to her. She grabbed a bottle of vodka from inside her handbag, almost bigger than your head, and she started to pour.

“Tell me everything.”

So you did. It was embarrassing and awkward, but damn did it feel good to get off your chest. Ada sat watching intently, pursing her lips and sighing when appropriate, burgundy nails tapping on your table when she got particularly annoyed. She threw her head back and finished her second glass, faint cherry red staining the rim.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend.” You apologised, gulping the remaining droplets of your own drink. “I just - God, I had no idea what to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything.” Her voice was ernest and for the first time in a long time you actually felt like you could breathe, Ada always had that effect on you. She had a way of making people feel comfortable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” You sighed, cradling your knees to your chest. “I was too embarrassed.”

“It’s not your fault, babe, Tommy’s a dickhead!” She shoved you lightly and you smiled halfheartedly. “And I would tell him that in person! Not that I’ve seen him since Grace came back.”

You felt your spine go rigid.

“Grace?”

Annoyance painted Ada’s face, and she pursued her lips like she was sucking on a lemon.“He didn’t tell you about her? That she came back?”

Not explicitly, but she had always been there. Ada had once told you about her brothers lover, the beautiful blonde vixen who had turned his world on its axis. That was partly why you were so hesitant, knowing you couldn’t compare to a woman like her, but Tommy had made you trust him, and look how that turned out.

Now you were slapped with the cold, hard truth, and it hurt.

She was the woman always on the tip of his tongue, the one that he saw when he closed his eyes. You were the body he used, the temporary buzz and the hit of pain relief, but she was the one he really wanted, the woman he pretended you were.

“No. Must have slipped his mind.” You laughed falsely, feeling tears build behind your eyes. You inhaled, your voice quiet. “But Grace - she was the one wasn’t she? You know, the one who...”

The one who broke his heart. The woman he loved, the woman he really wanted.

She hesitated, but then nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“God I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry baby.” Ada pulled you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she was comforting her son. You let the tears fall, felt them cascading down your cheeks like a waterfall. Ada stroked your hair and pulled you close, and you closed your eyes, finally giving into the sadness.

———————————————————-

It was slow - the healing process. Falling back into a routine of work and chores, and eventually starting to laugh and smile again. You passed your final exam with flying colours, finally becoming a registered nurse. Ada was there with Karl, cheering you on when you left the hall with papers in your hands. You continued working at the library, hiding behind the bookshelves at the back with Ada, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard, your knees weak. You made new friends with the ladies at work, visiting clubs and bars on the weekends, trips to the pictures after a long day on the job. You even got asked out on a date, with a handsome doctor called Dennis who always made you a cup of coffee in the morning and saved you the donut with pink sprinkles he knew you liked.

It took time, but you were finally starting to feel the wound scab over, but of course, a hurricane in the form of a smart mouthed gangster was just enough to blow down everything you had worked so hard in repairing.

Three months of no contact had passed.

It was late. Hot water billowed around you as you stirred your tea bag, inhaling the sweet smell of cinnamon and lemon. You pulled your satin robe tight against your skin, admiring the soft blush pink colour and shuffling towards the bedroom in your matching slippers. You hummed as you turned down your bed, longing for the sweet embrace of your covers, but you were pulled from your daydream by pounding on your front door. You sighed, ignoring it and continuing to fluff your pillows, but when it didn’t stop, you frowned and stormed towards the assailant.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You muttered, swinging the door wide open, but the words evaporated like ocean spray when you came face to face with the man you least wanted to see. It was such a cruel sense of deja vu, and you could feel your face growing red hot with anger.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

He ignored you, stepping over the threshold and back into your life. You held your hands up, defensively and aggressively, your brain not knowing whether to fight or fly. You inhaled loudly, you didn’t want to give in, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

“Please, Tommy. Just go.”

“I needed to see you.” His words were quick, raspy and urgent, but you brushed them off like they were nothing.

“You’ve seen me, now leave.”

“Not without speaking to you. Let me explain.”

“Was she busy?” You spat. “Is that why you’re here? She’s away so you think you’ll just come and see me and I’ll let you in? Let you touch me? Fuck you, Tommy.”

His eyes were wild, frustration painting his features. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like that?” You spat. “Not that you were using me as a tool to get over another woman? After everything I told you - ” You stopped, not wanting to think about your past. It was too painful.

He came closer, walking towards you so cautiously and softly you might have laughed. “Just hear me out.”

“Why the bloody hell should I listen to you?”

He shrugged exasperatedly, your words striking his skin like a branding, because you were right. He had no moral high ground or proper explanation for the way he had treated you.

“I’m fucked up. Too fucked up for you.” And he’s telling the truth. You’re so pretty and honest and kind, even when you’re crazy with rage, your whole body is practically buzzing with anger and you’re still so beautiful and light and he knows that he ruined you. You trusted him, you confided in him, and he still left.

“I can’t believe I was falling so such a goddamn righteous asshole!” You seethe, raking a hand through your hair. His eyes widened but you merely scoffed, if looks could kill he would have been swallowing dirt. “Don’t act like you didn’t know. Don’t act like you have no idea what I was feeling for you.”

He didn’t know what to say, and he could his stone cold heart breaking.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You sniffed. “This is the last time I want to see you.”

“Just let me stay, let me make it up to you.”

He moves closer, wanting to feel your hair between his fingers, the soft embrace of your touch and the sweetness of your lips. Things had been going wrong all day, the business struggling and the cops getting suspicious and all he could think about was holding you. He wanted to try, he needed to feel you, he needed to feel something real. He wanted to apologise, pull you under him and make the both of you forget. For one more night he didn’t want to be Tommy Shelby, he just wanted to be the man who got to hold you.

You inhaled. “I’m seeing someone else.”

He felt a knife slice through his abdomen. He had no right to feel the shock and jealousy prickling through his skin, not after what he had done, but he still felt the raging green envy bubbling inside of him. He was being completely unreasonable and cruel, but a part of him had really hoped you would wait for him, but it’s that unfair mentality that had cost him.

“What?”

“I’m seeing someone - someone from work.” You said, finally gaining the nerve to stand up for yourself, wanting to wash away six months of your life you had given to him. “We’ve been going out for the past few weeks.”

“Who is he?” His tone was more demanding than he meant it to be, the shock and twinge of insecurity he felt from your announcement was making his words sharper.

“You don’t get to ask me that.”

He needed to take back control of the conversation, he needed to explain. He knew just how much he had fucked up, he’d been gone for too long this time, and his own selfishness might have cost him the best thing he had going for him. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, you just never meant for me to find out.”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Listen to me, I - ”

“I have a busy day tomorrow, Thomas.” You said firmly, putting your foot down and refusing to let him try to right his wrongs - you had worked too hard on moving on. The hidden meaning in your words made Tommy’s jaw clench, his hands reflexively flinching at his sides. “So, please, just... just go.”

You were crying, but trying so hard to hide it. He could see the gloss coating your eyes and the flush rising from your chest, as though your body was leaking sadness from every pore. He felt his heart pound against his ribs. He was so used to getting what he wanted, in business and in private, and yet he felt like he might have just lost it all. So he turned and left, shutting your front door and trying to tune out the sound of your sobs, feeling even more empty inside then when he had arrived.

—————————————————————

He finally got what he wanted.

Grace was sitting opposite to him, her knees brushing against his, her smell so familiar and dizzying, but yet it didn’t feel right. She was a vision in a sea foam dress, with her sunshine coloured hair and perfect features, her eyes filled with a million stars that he could once spend hours getting lost in, but not anymore.

It felt so fake, so forced. The conversation didn’t flow, his words were stagnant, getting caught in his throat. She was looking right at him, the same way she did when they would wake up tangled in one another, at a time in his life that he used to think he was the happiest.

But maybe that had changed.

He was finding pieces of you in her. He knew that Grace only drank red wine, but out of habit he almost poured her a glass of bourbon; because that was what you liked. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the same way you did. How the shawl draped over her shoulders would look perfect on you.

He was sitting across from the woman of his dreams, but none of it felt right, because she wasn’t you.

Perhaps his dreams had changed.

He tuned out Grace as she spoke, her voice not calming him as it once had. All he could think about was what he had lost. He had been a prick, he knew that for certain. He hadn’t meant to not call you, to leave you in the lurch like he did, he just didn’t like anyone getting too close.

When he was in Birmingham he was the leader of the Blinders. He was smart and strong and thought things through so nobody else had to. He was the kingpin, the man who ruled with an iron fist and got exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. But with you, in London, he had allowed himself a sliver of peace. He let himself sleep next to you, peach coloured moon dancing over your bodies, curtains blowing in the wind. After a long day he found himself driving to see you. Wanting to see that shy smile that would make his knees buckle, feeling like a teenager even when he had beat a man half to death mere hours before.

You were a forest fire. Just a small spark, the smell of your hair, the velvet of your skin, the sound of your laugh, and his entire world was alight. He remembered taking you out, the feel of your small hand against his, genuinely wanting to know how your day had been. He remembered the sound of your laugh, when he had you pressed up against the window of his car, in between ticket stubs and cigarette butts and road maps, unable to stop the grin making its way onto his own face.

Even in the months he was gone; when Campbell came back and turned his world back to shit, in the quiet of his office, his mind always wandered back to you. He thought about you whenever he saw fog rolling over the hills or he felt rain patter across his shoulders, he would lose himself for a moment and his brain would conjure up a picture of you. When he saw John and Esme at the Garrison, soft gentle touches reserved for one another, that stupid dopey grin on his brothers face, he thought of you.

It was more than just sex and he was a fool for thinking that that was all it had been.

“Tommy? What’s the matter?”

It was Grace. Her voice like ripe berries and warm milk, but entirely wrong. He blinked, remembering where he was, feeling the velvet of the sofa under his suit. She smiled when she realised she had captured his attention, slightly smug and self assured, and she continued her story of the joys of living in New York.

Tommy looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they had met up. Here they were, in a five star hotel room outside of Birmingham, with champagne and caviar and imported chocolates. But she’s married, to somebody else. And yet, she had rang him and expected him to drop everything and join her.

He almost laughed at the irony of the situation.

Grace was like the first sunshine after being caught in a storm, but perhaps he’d grown to like the rain. He’d been chasing her for too long, like a fucking puppy, and now she was sitting centimetres apart from him, and he realised that she didn’t look all that magical. He thought about the anguish he felt when she left, the pure heartache that almost split him in two when he found out she had married another man, the pain of sleeping alone once more - and it makes him falter, because that’s exactly the same way he’d treated you, and you deserved so much more.

He knew Grace wanted. She wanted to fuck. She wanted to feel something other than her pathetic new husband, she craved the feel of power and the memory of what it’s like to run around with the devil. Her hand moved from the stem of her wine glass to the top of his thigh, a gentle, almost timid touch, testing the waters before she fully submerged. This is what he’d wanted since the very minute she boarded that train, to be back with the woman he loved, but now her soft caress feels like a slap. She didn’t notice his internal struggle, wine drunk and ready to fall back into his arms, but all he could picture was you with another man, his hand resting on the silk of your skirt.

He felt the familiar tick in his jaw, the way his knuckles flexed unconsciously, he knew he had no right but jealousy was eating away at him. How fucking stupid had he been? And now another man would have the pleasure of taking you out, making you laugh and blush under diamond chandeliers. Another man would get to walk you home, listen to your voice and then kiss you under the silver moon. He couldn’t even bear to think of the next part, the mere thought making flames ignite around his pupils.

“Tommy?” Grace asked, her eyes big and round like saucers, lips parted and just waiting to be pressed against his. She watched as he stood up, his knees clashing against the bar cart, far more flustered than she had ever seen him before.

“I have to go.”

———————————————————-

The club was loud, the bands instruments following you everywhere you went. The room was painted red and gold, shimmering lights and glowing pink shades reflecting from every surface. You were in a booth in the corner, nursing a glass of bourbon and eating sweet green olives, vinegar and alcohol on your tongue. Dennis was sat opposite, clad in a fine suit with a fresh haircut and laughing at his own anecdote, his hands gesturing wildly as he retold a story you had already forgotten.

You liked him, you did. He was nice and funny and handsome, - but he didn’t make sparks dance on your skin when he touched you, and he didn’t occupy your mind every second you were apart. Maybe that was for the best, maybe you needed to be sensible and date with your head, not your heart, because that was why you always got hurt.

You mind had been muddled since Tommy came back. All of your hard work had crumbled to pieces when he had knocked on your door. It was beyond frustrating, the way that he managed to crawl back inside your conscience with just a few words. You tried to blink away everything that happened, focusing on Dennis sitting on the other side of the booth, losing yourself in his kind smile and bright eyes.

He reached out and patted your hand with his, and you noticed how smooth his fingers were, not like the rough calloused pads that you could remember digging into your thigh and - you stopped, determined not to let your mind wander. You weren’t being fair to Dennis, he deserved someone who would give him their undivided attention, and didn’t spend the evening think of another man.

You let Dennis order another round of drinks, the conversation coming back round to the hospital - the only thing you seemed to have in common. You were just about to ask after a patient who you had heard wasn’t fairing very well, when you heard a commotion coming from the main hall. You raised your eyebrows and twisted around, trying to get a better view but you were blocked mostly by the sea of bodies. You turned to look at Dennis, but watched his own gentle brown eyes fill with shock.

“I need to talk to you.”

Fucking hell.

You felt flames licking your skin and ice cold water on your head at the same time. That stupid brummie accent that made your toes curl even after all the shit he had put you through. You saw surprise flash across Dennis’ face, his brows knitted at the stranger who had approached your booth. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but you didn’t want the situation to get out of hand. You risked it. Swivelling in your seat so you could see him fully, your eyes flittering over the curls in his hair and the dammed sea blue colour of his irises.

“Tommy.” You kept your voice as level as you could, but it was proving hard. “Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?”

“We need to talk, come outside with me.”

His stare was so heated that it almost made you feel uncomfortable, and his hair was tousled, the way it always got when he ran his hands through it repeatedly. You could tell he was jealous, not missing the way his eyes had darted to Dennis’ hand covering your own. You could see the clench of his jaw and the tension in his forehead and it made you feel good, it was about time he had a taste of his own medicine.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.” Dennis said, rising from his chair so he could meet Tommy’s line of sight. You reached out and squeezed his wrist slightly, willing him not to get involved, not for your sake, but for his own.

“I’ve had a a really fucking long day and I think that it’s best if you don’t piss me off.” Tommy spat, his voice husky and exasperated, pointing a finger across the table. Coming face to face with you and your new lover was enough to tear the strings that were holding him together, he wasn’t a patient man and all he wanted was to explain himself, but it was hard when he was in such a jealous haze. His mind and his mouth weren’t working as one, he was losing his composure, and quickly.

“Stop it.” Your voice was stern, cold enough to turn him to stone. You could feel dozens of eyes on you, watching you all like you were performing at a play, mouths agape and eyes wild with anticipation. You blinked up at Tommy and you could see him soften, the hurt evident in your features enough to make him want to tear out his hair, furious at himself for how he always fucks things up.

You turned to Dennis, heart clenching as he held his ground despite being much smaller and a million times less intimidating then the gangster behind you. You gave him an apologetic look, knowing that the only way to diffuse the bomb that was Thomas Shelby was to speak to him alone.

“Thank you for everything, Dennis.” You said, shaking your head at the insanity of it all. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me for how this evening has turned out.”

He brushed off your words, as gentlemanly as ever, shooting a harsh look at Tommy. “Are you sure you’re alright going with him?”

You could see Tommy open his mouth to spit back something, his hands clenched at his sides, but you pushed him roughly in the torso and stormed past, heading for the back doors.

Your face was hot and red with shame, you could still taste alcohol on your tongue, but it had turned bitter and sour. You could hear him behind you, his expensive shoes clattering on the cobbled streets, his heavy exhales in the dark. He reached out, his touch timid and reserved despite the scene he had just created. At the feel of his fingers on your upper arm you pushed him off, walking further away into the alley.

“(Y/N)!) He called, but you ignored him, wiping away your tears before swirling on your heel, voice laced with venom.”

“It wasn’t enough for you to break me back at my flat?” You shouted, hearing your heart shatter with every syllable. “You had to come and do it in public too? What the fuck is wrong with you Tommy?”

“I know. I know.” He came towards you but you stumbled back, holding up a finger to keep him away from you. “I shouldn’t have made a scene.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You cried, it was hard enough to even try to get over him, but now he was making it impossible and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“I’m in love with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now. It was the words you had been begging him to say, the words that you had wanted to hear since you had first met, but they just made you weep harder. His face was so ernest, more honest than you had ever seen it, but it was so goddamn hard to believe him.

“You’re not in love with me, Tommy.” You murmured, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You just want me because you saw me with another man.”

He shook his head, reaching out to touch you under the yellow glare of the streetlights. The feeling of you in his arms was so right to him, so familiar and warm that it felt like coming home. The tear streaks on your cheeks shone like the stars above the two of you, so beautiful and so heartbreaking and he needed to let you know how he felt.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice was firm, and even though you wanted to you couldn’t look away from him, trapped in his gaze. “It’s always been you. And I should have told you sooner.”

You stopped, everything you had wanted to say evaporated like ocean spray around the two of you, the water crashing so loud you could hear it in your ears. You were tired, and confused, half of you wanted to slap him and the other half wanted to fall into his arms. Instead, you sat down on the curb, feet planted in the gutter, dropping your head in your hands.

“I need a cigarette.”

Tommy smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his packet and a lighter, giving you a smoke before lighting the end, watching the flame flicker in your eyes. You took three long drags, trying hard to control your breathing and rivalling emotions before you spoke again.

“How did you find me?”

He inhaled, puffing on his own cigarette. “I’ve had men watching you since the first time we met.”

You snapped around to face him. “You’ve fucking what?”

“You really think I was going to let you go around the city without protection?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

The silence was deafening and you hated how you instinctively wanted to move by his side, press your body up against his for warmth. Instead you looked up at the navy coloured sky, counting the stars and pretending you couldn’t feel him watching you.

“I fucked up.” He spoke. “ I used you and I hurt you.”

You bit your lip to try and stop the tears from falling once again.

“I was heartbroken because of Grace, and I needed a distraction.”

“A distraction.” You repeated.

“I’m sorry. It’s redundant now, I know. But I am. I fucked everything up and I’m sorry.”

The tension between you was almost palpable, like the nicotine that was surrounding you both. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, but you also knew that he could talk a man out of his house if he really wanted to.

“Did she turn you down?” You countered, facing him. “Is that why you’re here with me?”

He shook his head, tongue running over his teeth, wisps of smoke leaving his lips. “I saw her for the first time tonight.” He said, honestly. “I sat across from her and I realised that she meant nothing to me, not anymore.” You felt him beside you, the pressure of his thigh digging into yours, desperate to get you to look at him.

“It was just sex.” You muttered, looking for some kind of safety net to stop you from making the same mistake, no matter how badly your heart is pleading you to fall onto him.

“Don’t fucking say that. Don’t lie to me.” He stammered, as though your words had truly hurt him.

“You treated me like shit, Tommy. How can I ever trust you?”

“I can’t promise I won’t fuck something up. I’m a bad man and I do bad things, but I swear, right, on my fucking life - that I will never do anything to hurt you.”

He was so close to you. The strong man so weak as he brushed his nose against yours. He felt years younger, and felt the overwhelming ache to drag you into his arms and kiss you senseless.“I need you with me. I can’t do any of this without you - And will spend every day proving to you just how much you fucking mean to me.” He whispered, words trailing off into the

crown of your hair.

You couldn’t stop it. All of the warning bells in your head extinguished like candles, and all you could think about was him. He had hurt you, dug a knife into your rib cage and left you to bleed, and perhaps a better woman would have left him sitting in the gutter, but you knew that the two of you were bound together - just as beautiful and broken as one another.

You shook your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes, the man who had turned your life upside down. You didn’t want to think anymore - so you didn’t, instead you smashed your lips onto his, making his head spin wildly, losing himself in you.He’s always had a high tolerance, but somehow, just one touch, just the brush of your lips against his, the heat of your breath on his skin, has him utterly, completely, wasted

“Please don’t break my heart.” You said, reminiscent of the first time you had slept together, pressing your forehead against his. He breathed you in, the smell of violets and salt, warm coffee and vanilla, the scents that he wished he could bottle. He pressed his lips to yours, claiming you as his as much as proving he was yours. He relished the taste of you, his kisses greedy and passionate, making sure that you were still there and knowing that he would never let you go again.

“I won’t.”

And it’s a promise he’ll keep.

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

I'm getting a haircut today and I can picture my hairstylists disappointed face when she sees that I bleached and dyed it at home again 🙃

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 18

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: (fun fact i wrote this listening to beautiful ghosts which i have now formally induced into the fanfic’s playlist bc im a nerd who rly likes soft music) this is probably my longest chapter, yay me for writing a long one. hope you guys enjoy it xx

Next Chapter >>

Y/N looked at her reflection on the golden mirror standing in front of her. She studied the features she always saw in her own mirrors, the same face, the same eyes, same nose and same lips, however the reflection staring back at her was somehow different, similar to those renaissance paintings of mythical female sirens, goddesses, princesses and other deities. She had her once free flowing hair in a hellenic up-do filled with various flowers and a gold like chain intertwined with one of her brains. A few perfectly curled ringlets fell to frame her face which was still makeup free from last night, with a blossoming red tint on her upper cheeks. 

She was dressed in a garment made of two parts, a linen white tunic and a clock held together by an ornamental claps with Hecate’s torch insignia at the shoulders and a light pink sash at the waist. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would think of her clothing. When she was younger, she would religiously dress as a Greek Goddess for Halloween yet nothing she’d worn compared to what she looked right now. 

Minthe had been silent throughout most of it, sometimes even giving her judgmental looks whenever she questioned about the fabrics and flowers being used to adorn her. She didn’t completely blame her for doing such things, deities were only found of mortals for two things: war and procreation. It didn’t take long for her to return to the gardens, being placed in front of Hecate who was commanding her maidens like a captain on a ship. 

      - Do you know anything about gardening? - she looked down on the mortal dressed in deity clothing, which she had to admit, seemed to fit her better than the cheap satin piece she was wearing. 

       - I can manage. - Y/N rubbed her hands out of anxiety when talking to one of the goddesses of the Underworld. 

       - Well, pick something and get to work. - Hecate pointed aimlessly towards the groves and their dying flora. Y/N heart tightened at seeing the muddy green colour that the plants had beginning to take, a stark contrast to the lively, colourful flora of its surroundings. Her eyes locked on a particular rose bush whose roses were brownish white, some of its petals constantly falling to the ground whenever the slight summer breeze hit it. She took it upon herself to tend to it, walking over the to wilting bush and sitting gracefully on the grace, hands softly touching the dead flowers which she once imagined to have been the most beautiful flowers.

Y/N decided to take care of the flowers the way she took care of her little plants back in her flat. She started by getting rid of the dead leaves, carefully pulling them from the branches and onto the floor, trimming it to the best she could possible manage. Y/N kept on trimming, eventually reading the thorny white roses, some which were just in desperate need of water and others which were past the point of no return. She directed her attention to those, pulling a few out and onto her robes until a specific one found itself a challenge. The young girl extended her hand deeper into the rose bush, pulling the flower at its base, finding it rather hard to pull it from the branch. She kept on pulling and the flower eventually gave up, detaching from its base and sticking one of its thrones deep into her thumb. She let go of a tiny wince, not wanting to bother the other maidens. 

Carefully, Y/N removed the thorn from the flower, throwing it forcefully on the ground before turning her thumb so she could face it. It had a tiny wound, so tiny that if she hadn’t known it was there, she would’ve never realised it was there. However, it was bleeding heavily, the scarlet liquid dripping and running from her skin to the green grass nearby the bush, staining it the same colour as the liquid. 

She sucked on her thumb, mindlessly dabbing it against her clothing and returning to get rid of everything that did not belong to a healthy plant. Y/N was so into her craft she didn’t notice James returning to the Elysium. He watched her from afar, her lips and nose crunched as she inspected the rose bush with a might which in his mind was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. 

      - Did you discover anything? - Hecate walked up to the God of the Underworld, curious for any developments. 

      - We are not entirely sure of who stole the pomegranate but we did discover her friend is an oracle. - Hecate rolled her eyes, if there was any type of witchcraft she hated the most it was prophecy telling. The prophecies were always unnecessarily over-detailed and more like riddles than actual pieces of helpful information. She already couldn’t stand the Fates and their seeing eye, but mortal oracles? They were the worse. 

      - Tell me you turned her into a fish ... or a plant. - Hecate was particularly found of permanent punishments. She thought curses and death were much too simple, however James was one to dabble in cursing rather than metamorphism. 

       - Y/N wouldn’t be very happy with that.

       - Y/N is not the Goddess of the Underworld is she? 

       - You have absolutely no reason to despise her that much, Hecate. It is out of character for you to judge before meeting. 

       - I know how this ends, Hades. You are not the first god to take liking to a mortal and trust me it never ends well. - she sighed, arms crossed in front of her white gown. James had to agree with her, he knew way too many myths of when a mortal relationship went wrong but he couldn’t help it, she was just so magnetic and entrancing. Besides, part of him wanted to be next to her all the time and make sure no harm came to her which harshly differed from other deity/mortal relationships which were normally based on lust or petty jealousy between other deities. - You’re a King before you are a man. Remember that. 

Y/N got up from her crutching state, standing on her legs as she patted the dirt and petals off her garments and onto the floor, a proud look on her face as she looked at the relatively healthy looking plant. She let out a little happy sound, hands clasped in front of her collarbones as she turned on her heel to go and find something else to do. Instead, her eye caught James’ figure who was standing next to Hecate in what looked like a innocent conversation. 

She wanted to wave at him, maybe even give him an innocent kiss but Hecates’ words were still very much present in her mind “You are not to be intimate with the god of the Underworld” so were Minthe’s remarks about how he was expected to be seen with someone of higher blood. She wouldn’t want to get him in trouble and perhaps they could speak some other time when they weren’t surrounded by other people. 

      - What are you doing standing up there? - Minthe came up from behind her, a condescending tone present. - Ogling the god of the Underworld?

      - What? No. - her cheeks turned into a colour that matched her pink sash, as she tried to hide her face in her hands. Somehow, the fact that he was, well, he was who he was, made her feel like she needed to keep everything shrouded in secrecy. - Is there something else needed?

     - You know what? - her face contorted into a calm expression she couldn’t really figure out. - We could use some help from some new maidens.

     - New maidens? - Y/N felt like a child, questioning everything and everyone around her. 

     - Yes, you see if you go straight ahead until you reach the river and ask the Charon to take you South you’ll be able to find them. Tell him it’s for Hecate.

     - Oh, alright. - she nodded her head and wandered off into the groves, looking around at the decay. It looked like that particular piece of land of the Elysium was doomed to disappear. She kept on walking as instructed by Minthe until she reached the river where a boat was awaiting her with the same faceless figure. She had to admit that it freaked her out that someone without a face could speak but she tried her best to stay climb as she climbed on the boat, putting on her best courageous face. - Hecate asked for you to take me to the South. 

     - The South? - his voice was rather warm for such a menacing figure. - Are you sure?

     - Yes. 

She couldn’t see him do anything, however, she understood he had accepted her request once the boat started to move. Y/N remained silent, repeating Minthe’s words in her mind. How hard could it possibly be to lead a few maidens back to the Elysium? It was easy, she kept telling that to herself even as the boat reached shore. The sky had turned into a dark scarlet and the chirping of birdies could be heard no more. She looked around but all she could see was darkness.

    - Are you sure about this, miss? - the Charon questioned, noticing the uneasiness of her step as she disembarked. - I’m sure Hecate can arrange for someone else.

    - No. - she shook a forced smile out of her worried expression. - It’s fine. Thank you.

    - Of course, m’am. 

You can do this, she told herself as she stepped onto the darkness. There was no sound, the once dark scarlet sky had faded into pure darkness and it was cold, so cold. Her hands went to her own arms, rubbing them in order to keep warm as she dwelled deeper into the unknown, the only sound heard being that of her shoes clicking against the pavement. 

    - Hmm ... Hello? - she spoke up, gathering every bit of courage. She was in the Underworld after all and this was no longer the Elysium.

She kept on walking until she hit something, a blue and reddish tint coloured the dark room but once she saw what she had hit, her heart stopped beating for a second. She was standing in front of a skeleton. As she place her hand over her chest to regain her breathe the bony arm grabbed her cloth, forcefully pushing her and ripping her tunic. 

    - STOP! - she pushed her hand against the skull, trying to get away from the grasp, eventually gathering enough force to walk back. Screw this task. However, once she tried to find her way back she found herself surrounded by more skeletons and translucent figures all coming towards her. - HELP!

James and Hecate were still in their friendly debate with the goddess being of the opinion that all of this was madness and mainly caused by both of them being ignorants, something he had already heard before. As he was about to shut her to go and tell Y/N of the developments, a bunch of water nymphs came running their way with worry written all over their faces. 

    - My Lady, there’s been a security breach in the Tartarus. - they all said at different speeds and different pitches, which made James’ head hurt at all of that. Hecate took a defensive stand, turning to look at James who just moved his head is disbelief. 

    - How is that even possible? It’s probably just a false ala ... - he was about to dismiss their claims until he noticed a very missing Y/N from her once beloved spot. His eyes scanned the crowd of maidens looking anywhere for her but she was nowhere to be found. - Y/N!

Once he heard no one calling back, his mind immediately rushed to the Tartarus. She couldn’t be there, she had barely been in the Underworld besides no one would take her there, she was a mortal. However, in a snap of his figure he’d been transported to the Tartarus, staff in hand as he strutted down the halls of the Tartarus. He hit one of the walls with his staff, which turned dark blue, giving light to the constantly dark Tartarus. With the new founded light, he could see a bunch of condemned souls surrounding a particular spot. 

    - THAT’S ENOUGH!  - he screamed in a tone that could scare even the biggest of deities, even Gaia herself. The souls, noticing their leader was amongst them, broke their surrounding, returning all to him. - NOW DON’T MOVE IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU. 

James strutted further into the Tartarus, finding bits and pieces of white linen which could belong to her along with several fresh white roses. Maybe she had been picking them prior, he did not know. His heart clenched as he called out for her name but heard no answer, maybe it wasn’t her, maybe she wasn’t ...

    - B...Bucky? - James heard her faint voice and as fast as he could followed it until he found one of the souls pressing her against one of the walls, boney hands around her neck. He hit the staff against the ground, the once pressure around her neck vanishing as she slide to the ground, hand coming to touch what he guessed was a very sore spot now. She lifted her head to stare at him, a look of regret and fear in her beautiful eyes. - Bucky, I’m so sorry.

    - Y/N. - he rushed over to her side, leaning so he was standing at the same height as her, hands coming to hold her jaw. - Are you hurt? 

    - I’m okay, I’m okay. - she leaned her head onto his shoulder. It didn’t take long for him to feel his clothes had begun to dampen. - I messed up ... I messed up. 

    - Hey, look at me. - he tried to move his shoulder so that she would look at him, but she refused, maintaining her face buried them. - Y/N, c’mon, sweetness.

    - I don’t want you to see me cry. - she sobbed through her speech, arms coming to wrap around his body. Bucky pulled the pin that was barely keeping the now very messy hairstyle up, throwing it onto the floor as her hair descended from the once tight hellenic hairstyle before proceeded to card his fingers through it, every once in a while kissing the top of her head. Y/N eventually stopped her crying, removing her head from his shoulder to stare at him, the look of uttermost regret slowly breaking his heart even more as he saw it on her expression. - I’m so sorry.

   - This is not your fault. - he helped her get up, holding her hands in his as if something returned to dare and harm her. Not that they would, they’d have to be crazy to mess with the King of the Underworld. - I should’ve never taken my eyes off you. 

   - Bucky. - she wrapped her arms around him and for a second it felt like things were back to normal. It felt like things were normal again that she didn’t know he was the God of the Underworld and that she wasn’t doomed to remain in the Underworld. He melted and relished into her hug but couldn’t help but feel how cold she was. She was still a mortal and remaining in the Tartarus would do her no good.

   - Let’s go before you freeze to death. - he joked, not expecting to get a laugh out of her after the current events, however she showed him a small smile. 

He held her hand as he guided her through the Tartarus, her eyes scanning the souls that once were harming her now stood without moving, not even daring to make a sound in front of their King. Something in that made her courage swell up, seeing them helpless standing around her without being able to touch her again. Her head held up high however once she noticed the fresh white roses on the ground, she couldn’t help but stop her step. 

   - They’re beautiful. - she mumbled under her breathe.

   - Are they not yours? - he questioned at her astonishment with the flowers. 

   - No, I wish I could have such beautiful roses. I thought flowers only grew within the Elysium. 

    - Don’t bother your head with it. - he reassured her, although the question was still very much puzzling to him. - C’mon, let’s go. 

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! - A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 1 

FF.net link - AO3 link 

Beep Beep. beep Beep. Click

8:00 am. Hisoka rolled over in his queen-sized bed, groaning at the interruption of his beauty sleep. Setting an early alarm after editing until 2 am was a horrible idea.

He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and rolls onto his back, following his ritual of checking all his notifications in the morning. The video he had uploaded after editing was well received, many comments about how he should try more looks with purple eyeshadow. About 3 years ago he had started his channel “Bubblegumbitch Makeup” as more of a throwaway joke after someone insulted his makeup on Instagram. However, an audience grew quite quickly, and Hisoka had to admit that he enjoyed the attention and luxury of it all. Making money by sitting in front of a camera and applying Makeup while people tell you how good looking you are is a great ego boost.

Half-heartedly he scrolled through his subscription feed, just to see what his competition was up to, though barely anyone had really uploaded during the night. Amateurs and their 'healthy' sleep schedules. A true influencer knows that an audience never sleeps.

 He disregarded his phone somewhere into the pile of pillows that make up his bed and made his way into the bathroom. His morning showers are more functional than enjoyable, quickly rinsing on whatever spirits of sleep may linger on him.

After that, the Makeup artist applied his usual morning creams, body lotion, towel dries his hair, and threw on a pair of grey low-waist sweats and a comfortable white razor-back shirt. Need. Coffee.

 Hisokas flat was a quaint little thing just outside of Rieti. An open imitation marble kitchen, facing the living room equipped with a black leather couch and wall mounted flat screen TV, opening to a relatively small balcony housing a few plants.

Exiting his bedroom, he grabbed the TV remote and switched unto a random morning news show, just needing background noise while he waits for his coffee to brew.

"And preparations are running wild for the annual Fashion Week in Rome. This year the line-up features many new promising designers from all over the globe. Tune in at 10 for more-"

The fashion week! Hisoka grinned, having nearly forgotten about this important event that he had always followed closely. Though rarely attending himself, he had been requested on multiple occasions as a make-up artist for certain models. But there was something more important connected to that special week. He grabbed his fresh cappuccino and strolled back to his room, fishing his phone from the depths of pillow mountain.

"Hisoka: Gooooood Morning! Roma's Fashion Week is coming up, are you going to stop on by? ~"

It didn’t take long before his phone chimed with the familiar Ping of a private Message.

“Bellissimo <3: I will be going to the Show for 4 days. If it proves convenient, I’d drop by for a short collaboration.”

“Hisoka: I’ll be keeping my bed warm~♥️”

“Bellissimo<3: Gross and unnecessary. I will book a room in my usual hotel in Rome. I’ll drop by for the Collaboration on Monday afternoon, and leave after.”

“Bellissimo<3: I will send you some sample pieces later, please come up with a look for one of them, and don’t just ‘wing it’ like last time.”

Hisoka giggled before disregarding his phone again. Illumi Zoldyck, breakthrough Fashion Designer from England, and eldest son of Zoldyck fashion magazine empire, who often uploaded videos of his artistic process on his channel “I. Zoldyck Fashion”. They had met 2 years ago, at a smaller Paris fashion show, the first one Hisoka ever attended. A model had requested Hisoka as her makeup artist, while Illumi had been working on a dress for her, and the two of them ended up working closely together to properly coordinate colours with each other. And though Illumi expressed great annoyance with Hisoka, they exchanged numbers, and started to make collab videos whenever they fell into the same place. Something about working together with Illumi got Hisokas heart racing. Seeing the camera-shy man get increasingly more frustrated with his antics was a joy that could hardly be topped.

But he didn’t have time to dwell in good memories and spine-tingling anticipation. He had work to do. And so once again he chucked his phone back into the pillow-cave system and made his way into his recording room.

It was a small office space, on one side an office Desk with a Desktop Computer, a couple of small succulent plants framing it, and a comfy black office chair. On the other side a set-up to record videos, with a white-pink gradient wall, a stainless white desk with a small mirror standing on it, and a less-comfy stool to sit on. In a smooth motion, Hisoka downed the rest of his coffee, set the cup aside, and started the camera. The night before he had laid out everything for his next video, a review for a new eyeshadow palette released by another Beauty Youtuber, still trying to get into the game. How Cute.

Hisoka clapped his hands together, putting on his best camera smile. “Hey, Scum! ~ Today I have a very special treat for you all. I got my hands on the new Togari Palette ‘Hunting for Your Dreams’, his first release.” He held up the shimmering silver case and opened it up for the camera to reveal 6 eyeshadows in various shades of orange and red. About half an hour and a couple try hard glamour shots later, Hisoka dropped the Palette with a grin, staring directly into the Camera. In addition to his signature Star and Teardrop under his eyes, he had attempted to imitate a flame-inspired eyeshadow look. “Well, this has been an absolute disaster. I feel like I’m losing clumps of eyeshadow every time I blink, and it feels sandy and irritating on my skin. But you have got to give it to Togari: I have never seen a Palette that features colours that are eye-biting and yet completely bland before. Though the surprise gift of a long, brown hair inside the sealed Palette wasn’t for me. But you know, if you see these Palettes in your local bargain bin, I’d say go for it.” He gave a cheeky wink, before rattling off his usual goodbyes, like and subscribe, yadda yadda.

Click.

Hisoka took the camera and set it by his computer. Before he could even think about editing, he must wipe away whatever the hell was in that shabby palette. Of course it wasn’t the worst make-up he had ever worn; it probably wouldn’t even make it in the bottom 10, he wasn’t here to make friends and spoon-feed his competition compliments. If a creator dares to churn out a subpar product, they have to deal with the consequences.

After practically subjecting himself to water torture via make-up remover towels, the man grabbed another whiteclaw from the fridge, and settled into his office chair. Digging through business emails was a boring, repetitive task, deleting promo-email after promo-email, practically begging him to promote some skin-care vitamins or boring phone app. Clicking the nails of his free hand against his desk, he tapped away at the delete button in a rhythm only known to him.

Finally reaching the bottom of his inbox, he switched to his private Inbox with a satisfied smile, an expected email already waiting for him. “From: I. Zoldyck: Roma Fashion Week Promos”.  To my private Email, dear Illumi? How shockingly Intimate~ Hisoka mocked in his head while opening the mail.  

“Hisoka.

Attached are 3 Designs I plan to show off at the show. Chose one for the collaboration and let me know in time.

Sincerely,

Illumi Zoldyck.”

Under his signature, 3 files were lined up, boringly titled “Design Roma 1/2/3”. Hisoka opened the first file and is greeted by a 2-piece suit with a light pink base colour, and blue-green flower highlights that frame the pockets and seams of the jacket, and the belt of the pants. Not bad, not bad.

The second file contained another 2-piece suit, this time with a black base colour, and a repeating roman-vase pattern in eye-catching blues, pinks, and oranges. Lovely pattern, and what a revealing jacket cut~. He was sure he had found his favourite, already planning a matching make-up look. But it wouldn’t hurt looking at the last design for pity, right?

Hisoka audibly gasped in a mixture of shock and flattery and laid a hand over his heart to complete the star performance. Staring back at him was a beautiful white-jeans design, patterned with colourful card-suits dotting the jacket and pants. The pattern was ever so slightly washed out, faking a vintage look. This is it. Mine. His heart was beating through his chest, and for the first time in a while he was truly speechless.

He had 3 more weeks until the show, but his mind was already bursting with inspiration, and when he later laid in bed, he couldn’t contain his grin as he texted.

“Hisoka: You already know which one im choosing~♥️♥️♥️”

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

Gon had been streaming for a good hour or so, talking excitedly to his chat about the new Season of Fortnite, admiring new skins that he was definitely going to try and get. Every new pass just meant a new challenge for him to prove himself, and it was undeniable that it was satisfying to work and game hard to get what he wanted. Just as he was about to ask chat if he should go another row, or change games for the night, a discord message drew his attention away.

“Kil: Yo, wanna team up? :p”

Filled with even more excitement, Gon returned his attention back to his stream. “Everyone, today we are going to feature a special guest!”

[safebubblebycyg]

a no voldemort au- draco meets the potters + the mauraders:

"what if they all hate me?" draco asked wearily, fiddling with harry's scarf as they approached his parents house. they had decided to take a port key from kings cross to a couple blocks from his house in hopes that the walk would calm draco down. the blonde had decided against going to the manner for christmas, seeing as his mother was the only one there who was worth seeing and she agreed that he should finally meet his boyfriend's family.

"dray, they wont hate you. they see you as family already and they havent even met you yet! plus, im sure the cookies you baked for all of them will persuade any fiber of their being that doesnt like you" harry assured the shorter boy, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as he approached his house. he knocked softly on the door and stood back. they waited for a moment before a familiar head of golden hair came into view.

"harry!" peter pettigrew shouted, welcoming the boy in his arms. the man was short and had a soft belly, but seemed extremely friendly. he had messy golden hair that waved in some places. the sweater he had on was obviously homemade and reminded draco of the ones he and harry had from the weasley's. the man let harry go from his grip and looked at draco, scanning him. his expression faltered for a moment upon seeing his slytherin scarf, but quickly faded back into a grin. "you must be draco! we've been told wonderful things about you! come in, come in!"

the potters home was very warm and inviting compared to malfoy manner. there was a fire in the fireplace and the couch was soft and worn in compared to the hard leather that was in his home. draco glanced around the room and smiled small. he already liked the potters much more than he thought he would.

"wormy," harry spoke as he gently placed his hand on the small of his boyfriend's back, "we're going to go put our trunks in my room, tell everyone we'll be down in a moment" peter nodded at the boys words and heading into the kitchen. harry turned to his love and smiled.

"you have a very nice home, harry," draco spoke in the soft voice that harry fell in love with. draco was a gentle and soft person, he loved that about him. the boy was dressed in pastels as often as he could and always left behind his uniform shoes for those of a pastel colour.

"im glad you like it, you'll be here for two weeks. im also glad that me constantly mentioning how amazing you are in conversations with my family worked. they love you already!" harry beamed before taking dracos hand. "now, c'mon we do have to take our trunks up," and the boys headed up the stairs.

"your bedroom is much more inviting than mine." draco spoke when harry pushed the door open. harry had his room covered in gryffindor banners and quidditch posters. the room itself was a warm gray colour that let all of the bright gryffindor red and gold stand out. harrys bed had plain black and white sheets and a stuffed teddy bear sitting against his pillows. it was perfect.

"that's because your house looks like dementors decorated it, dray," harry laughed, laying his trunk down at the foot of his bed. he took dracos and repeated the action. "now let's get out of this winter gear, yeah?" he hummed, looking at the blonde boy who simply nodded.

"does- does your family mind what i wear?" draco asked timidly. he had opened his trunk and remembered that he had most packed skirts, white jeans, and pastel sweaters. harry wrapped his arms around his precious baby and kissed his neck, nipping at the skin.

"of course not, just dont dress like you've been in azkaban for twelve years and you'll be fine," he muttered, now focused on the soft red mark he was making on draco's neck. the blonde shivered as harry slid his hands under his sweater and started to suck at his neck.

"harry," draco sighed out as he pushed him away, "i dont want to show up to dinner tonight with a hickey please" the raven haired laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. before going back to his open trunk.

"wear the pink skirt with that one sweater you like wearing so much" harry commented as he pulled out his weasley sweater. "and make sure to add on the pink flower crown, it makes you look extra precious" draco blushed at his boyfriend's words as he tugged off his thick green sweater.

"they really wont care that im in a skirt?" he asked as he pulled out the pink skirt from his trunk. harry shook his head lightly, cuffing his blue jeans.

"they seriously won't, love" draco blushed and nodded before changing into the outfit harry suggested. minus the flower crown. he felt that was a bit much for just meeting his family.

"did you pack my white fuzzy socks?" draco asked as he turned to harry. he shook his head yes and tossed them to the blonde. draco sat on the floor to pull them onto his feet and hummed as harry began to brush the gel out of his hair.

"i still dont see why you got a sweater that says something in french. what does it mean?" harry asked, setting the brush aside and pulling a pink flower crown from dracos bag. "and dont think i wouldnt notice you not wearing this" he placed it on top of dracos soft curls and pulled him off the ground.

"it means what it means," draco smiled, looking down at the writing "baise moi" on his sweater. he looked up at harry and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "let's go see your family"

first up was sirius and remus. harry had claimed that they would be easy going. remus was. sirius wasnt.

"dray, this is remus and sirius. hush- yes, professor lupin is also my uncle- moony, padfoot, this is draco" harry introduced. draco held out a shaky hand and smiled at the two men, only recieving one warm smile back. remus had gladly shaken his hand, grinning brightly at him. sirius, on the other hand, had a stone cold look in his eyes as he scanned draco up and down. draco let his hand fall and glanced at harry. remus cleared his throat.

"why dont you go say hello to your parents, harry?" he suggested, watching draco tensely stand under padfoots glare. harry nodded, wrapping his arm protectively around his boyfriend's waist and guiding him to the kitchen.

"there's my boy!" james potter yelled as harry walked into the kitchen. he grinned brightly at his son before turning to the blonde. "you must be mister malfoy, i have to say you have your father's hair, but from what harry has said, you have your mother's heart." he softly smiled at draco and draco gave a gentle grin back.

"how have you two been?" lily asked, gently giving her son's shoulder a squeeze before continuing to work in the kitchen.

"we've been brilliant," harry smiled, running his hand gently against dracos side in an effort to calm him down; he was trembling softly against the raven haired boy.

"that's lovely to hear. draco, harry said you're an excellent baker?" james asked as lily continued around the kitchen. draco shyly nodded.

"i enjoy it yes, but im not sure if excellent is the word i would use, mr. potter. though, i did bake you all cookies as a thank you for letting me into your home.." his voice was soft and shakey, fragile almost, as he spoke. lily turned towards him.

"love, you didnt have to do that! you're always welcome here" her green eyes gleamed as she smiled at the boy who leaned softly into harry. draco muttered a soft 'thank you' and looked down with a blush.

"I HEARD COOKIES" wormtail squealed as he rushed into the kitchen, moony and padfoot not far behind.

"yeah, dray baked some for all of you. honey cranberry for peter, sugar cookies for mom, oatmeal raisin for remus, chocolate chip for dad, and peanut butter for sirius. that was the mysterious owl that you all got a month ago from 'hermione'. draco figured she would be the only person you would believe to write in cursive" harry spoke proudly of his boyfriend, his fingers still running up and down the anxious boy's side.

"yeah, hes a keeper, thank you malf- draco" sirius spoke for the first time since harry had arrived. surprisingly to draco.

"oh- um- of course.." he trailed off, his blush only increasing as he buried his face in harry's neck and wrapped his arms around his waist. harry chuckled softly, kissing the top of the small boys head. he was going to be just fine.

...

"thank you for preparing dinner, mrs. potter," draco spoke softly as he looked up from his plate. the family had just sat for dinner and draco had never seen a meal quite so homely.

"you're quite welcome, draco. and please, its lily" the red head smiled as they all began to eat. draco ate quietly, listening to the conversations at the table. lily, remus, and harry had began talking about his studies and how he wanted to teach at hogwarts one day. james, peter, and sirius began a playful argument on what quidditch team was better.

draco fiddled with his sweater as he nervously listened in on the second conversation. they had become louder and louder and draco was not a fan of loud, heated discussions. he gently closed his eyes before he felt a hand grab his and bring it to sit on top of the table. harry had quickly intertwined their fingers and pressed a kiss to draco's knuckles as he continued with his conversation. draco smiled small and let himself relax at harrys sweet gesture. he always knew how to calm him down.

"i like your outfit," peter commented, smiling at the pastel crown on dracos head. "pink roses are a beautiful flower. the potters grow a wide variety in their back garden actually! if youd like, we can sneak off and go see them?" his voice was gentle and quiet, letting no one else but draco hear him. the blonde smiled and squeezed harry's hand, pressing a kiss to his neck and letting go. harry simply turned and gave him a soft smile and peck on the cheek before returning to his conversation. draco brushed off his skirt before looking at wormtail who smirked and pushed his chair back.

"i gotta go grab something from my trunk, ill be back!" he spoke through his lie clearly and walked off. draco leaned his head on harry's shoulder.

"im gonna go to the bathroom, ill be back" he murmured in his ear before standing and following peter.

the golden haired man had waited for draco at the back door and smiled once he had arrived. he pushed open the door and walked into a beautiful garden filled with flowers.

"oh merlin.." draco whispered with a smile. they had so many flowers that it made the greenhouses at hogwarts look minuscule.

"do you know how to make flower crowns by hand?" peter asked, running his hand over some tulips. draco beamed and nodded. it was one of his favourite things to do. peter grinned. "care to make a couple?"

...

it had been ten minutes later when harry realized that his baby was missing still. he paused completely in his conversation.

"you alright, harry?" remus questioned upon seeing the look on his face.

"draco has been gone an awfully long time," he muttered, standing up. "im gonna go look for-" he was cut off by loud laughing from outside "-him." he finished, walking to his back door and pushing it open, his family following. harry almost melted when he saw his boy. draco was surrounded in flower crowns and was currently making one out of lavender. peter was stacking flower crowns on top of his head and couldnt seem to get past three. everytime the crowns fell off, draco would gently pick them up to make sure they hadnt gotten damaged before setting them back down and continuing to craft another one.

"cookies and flower crowns, huh?" sirius called out, his comment clearly aimed at draco. the two boys heads snapped up. draco blushed and glanced down at the, fifteen maybe, flower crowns that he had made. harry walked over and picked up one made of white tulips.

"merlin, you're absolutely precious" he mumbled, crouching down. draco blushed harder at his boyfriends words and glanced at him. "and you were so worried about them hating you" harry leaned in towards draco, his lips ghosting over the smaller. he pulled away and smirked. "let's bring all these inside, yeah?" harry stood and grabbed a handful of flower crowns and walked back inside. the rest of his family followed and peter picked up some flower crowns as draco carried the rest. harry potter was a tease. and draco malfoy was madly in love with him.

...

the two boys laid in harry's bed, curled up against each other, basking in each others warmth.

"now that wasnt so bad, was it dragon?" harry said teasingly. his fingers softly intertwined into dracos curls, running through them.

"yeah, i guess not" the blonde mumbled sleepily, pressing a kiss to harrys shoulder. "thank you for having such a wonderful family" he said, dozing off shortly after.

"thank you for becoming part of it, future mister potter" harry grinned, pressing a kiss to dracos soft hair before falling asleep with a soft grin.

they were happy. and that was all that mattered.

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.04

Read From Start | Read Ahead | Home Site

It was amazing just how quickly Nairi got used to waking up and finding texts from Cherry waiting for her.

Cherry seemed to be up and on at all hours of the day; she was awake in the morning well before Nairi’s eleven o’clock alarm, but also worked well into the small hours of the night and put in long hours at the day job. Nairi had managed to ascertain that it had something to do with art—Cherry had strong opinions on grades of paper (something about absorbency), colour theory (people were stupid), watercolours (they were bad), and on the one occasion she’d come upstairs had informed Nairi that her walls were driving her mad and that she’d be painting something to stop the encroaching insanity.

When she wasn’t inserting herself into Nairi’s life she was sending Nairi pictures and selfies with her other friends; grad students with brightly coloured hair, a grinning bartender showing off his flair, baking with a short woman in glasses. And now this:

C: youre closed on tues y/y?? C: which means yourf free tonight right?

Nairi sent her back a quick “yes” and set her phone down before pulling herself out of bed to face the day. Not opening the dojo meant she was able to take a little longer with her morning, but she still preferred to do her prayers before she had to think about anything else, and Cherry was prone to showing up if Nairi indicated she had free time. Which she apparently had a lot more of than she realised.

Maybe she should look for a new style to start training in. This was the first time she hadn’t been focused on a new one since she… Well, for a while.

When she came back upstairs her phone was lit up again. Maybe Cherry had ideas about lunch? It would mean she’d have a reason to go out and eat something.

C: great!! C: dn you wanna come out tonight?? dinner C: on me if i need to sweeten it ;) edies just moved back fr work and if its just me her and nick im go6na die from them being old folks who disapprove all night C: also i keep talking about you at nick and he wants to meet you lol

Nairi had initially assumed ‘Nick’ was Cherry’s father, just based on the way she talked about him. But then Cherry had mentioned her father later, just calling him ‘Dad’, so maybe he wasn’t? Either that, or she was very discreet about their being gay. Or she just went back and forth between ‘Dad’ and ‘Nick’ arbitrarily. ‘Edie’ on the other hand was a name Cherry had mentioned in passing once and then never again, so Nairi had concluded she was one of the colourful grad students. Apparently not.

She sent back a “sure”, and then after a moment, asked for a place and time.

C: yay!! thank you!! C: its this fckn italian place edie loves but theres a ok bar so not all bad C: edies fatal allergic to being on time but nickll be 7 minutes early

The next message was a sticker, a little pair of eyes rolling across her phone screen when she opened it.

C: meet at 7? C: i checked the menu has good veg C: pasta heavy but good :p

Nairi smiled a little at that and sent her another “yes”. After a moment she added a “thank you”. Cherry sent her back three hearts, and Nairi put her phone down to go and get some lunch.

She didn’t think anything of it until she showed up at the restaurant. Cherry had driven and was already parked, leaning against the side of her obnoxious little two door to wait. It was bright red and nearly vintage, and she’d obviously put a lot of care into it. Nairi had half expected vanity plates, but they were a normal registration.

Nairi waved as she approached and Cherry visibly perked up with a wide, glossy smile, waving back. Cherry had dressed up a little nicer—dark skinny jeans and a pretty sleeveless shirt with a modest v-neck. The heavy Docs were gone, traded for heeled ankle boots, and she had delicate pearl bob earrings to match her golden cross. Not a paint spatter in sight.

“Hi,” she said as Nairi drew to a halt just out of arm’s reach. “Didn’t we pick an interesting night to go out?”

“We sure did,” said Nairi, her brow furrowing as she looked past Cherry to the road between them and the restaurant. “What the hell is going on?”

The stretch of asphalt was filled with a flock of young adults, all of them shirtless, yelling along together in an incomprehensible chant as they ran up and down between two unmarked points on the road. They were arguably being directed; a young woman with a reflective coat and a manic grin, holding a megaphone in one hand and an airhorn in the other, was standing on a shopping cart in the middle. Standing next to her on the ground, was another woman in reflective orange with a clipboard.

Judging by the amount of honking and the lack of anything resembling city signage, this wasn’t an official event.

Cherry glanced down at her phone as one of the women held up the airhorn to the megaphone. Charitably she waited for Nairi’s ears to stop ringing before she spoke. “Flo did a round on the facebook pages—apparently it’s some dorm flash mob from a hall at her college.”

“Which one’s Flo? Did she have the blue hair?” asked Nairi as she lowered her hands from her head and gladly pulled her attention away from a panting eighteen-year-old who had something pink painted on his heaving chest.

“Nah that’s Mason, he’s finishing up his sociology honours. Flo has the green hair, she’s doing her psych PhD,” said Cherry, craning her neck to look around Nairi. “Nick’s here! Right on time, like I said.”

She started waving, and Nairi turned to see the tallest man she’d ever seen waving back across at them. She raised an eyebrow, the muscles in her forearms tensing, and she tried not to feel too uneasy about it.

Cherry hummed happily, picking herself up from where she was leaning on the car door and reaching in through the open window to grab a thin cardigan from the seat. “Oh, and just a heads up,” she said casually, “Nick like, really hates it when people call me Cherry, it’ll probably be better if you just use my real name in front of him.”

Nairi opened her mouth to remind her that she’d never actually gotten around to saying what the was exactly, but Cherry was already halfway across the lot towards the man. “Nick!” she called out as she approached, closing the distance and leaning up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

He said something to her, pausing to hug her back before continuing over to Nairi. He drew to a halt next to her while Cherry returned to perching against her car. “You must be Nairi,” he said, voice alarmingly deep, hand outstretched. “Linden’s told me so much about you.”

Nairi took his hand and shook it once before dropping it, resisting the urge to take a step back once she’d done so. “Likewise. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Nicholas was close to seven feet tall and probably in his late fifties or very early sixties if she was any judge. His hair had landed firmly in the ‘grey’ zone just past salt-and-pepper, though he’d managed to keep rather a lot of it, close cropped in a very standard short back and sides. He had broad shoulders and a carefully ironed shirt that looked worn but cared for. He had a firm grip, muscle swelling ever so slightly in the lines of his shirt, and there was a furrow in his brow that made him look deeply concerned about something.

Though, from what she’d learned being friends with Cherry—Linden—if she were an older adult in her life she’d probably be deeply concerned as well. Or maybe it was the students.

“Do either of you know what’s going on here?” he asked after a moment, nodding at the crowd.

“Youthful hijinks keeping us from our dinner,” said Linden, grinning easily. She’d released some of the tension in her shoulders since Nicholas’s arrival, but at the same time seemed a little more on edge, like she was anticipating something. She took a deep, exaggerated breath, and pushed her hands into her jean pockets. “Do you know what that smell is?”

Nairi exchanged a faintly puzzled look with Nicholas, though his looked a little more exasperated. “Cheap beer?” she tried.

Linden sniggered. “Yeah, we called it ‘Eau de Freshie’ when I was in school,” she said, tossing her head to give the students behind them a speculative, almost mean look. They were still yelling enthusiastically, and she gestured at them. “It’s no longer funny, anyway. How many of these assholes do you reckon I have to beat up to let us get through?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t need to come to that,” said Nairi, her mouth twitching a little at the side.

Nicholas shot her a grateful look. “From the looks of things someone has already called the police, I’m sure they’ll be dispersed presently,” he said with a nod towards a pissed off looking woman standing by the crosswalk, phone jammed up against her ear.

“The cops always take fucking forever,” complained Linden, running a hand through her hair, foot tapping impatiently. “Come on Nick, you actually like, made a reservation and now we’re gonna miss it.”

“Linden I’m reasonably certain the staff can see what’s happening from where they’re standing,” said Nicholas, irritation creeping into his tone. “A little patience will not kill you, please do not start a fistfight with a teenager.”

Linden grinned at him, stretching her arms out in front of her chest. “I’m like, pretty certain the one with the airhorn is at least twenty.”

“Linden.”

“Well, I mean,” said Nairi speculatively, eyeing the students. “All you really have to do is be flashier than them.”

One of the running students fell out of pitch with their friends, and someone complained in her peripheral. A car door slammed and there was the crunch of footsteps on gravel followed by a huff as someone else joined the spectators. Linden turned her grin back to Nairi. “Yeah? You got an idea?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, stepping up to Linden and reaching past her into the car window.

The other items she wanted were on the front seat, and Linden’s grin only widened as Nairi pulled them out. The baseball bat was wooden and well used, with a long crack threatening to split it clean open and letter stickers in the world’s ugliest font spelling ‘LINDE’ down the length. There was a clean spot amongst the built-up grime under the ‘E’. The bottle of lighter fluid was about half full, and Nairi held the bat out in front of her to squirt the contents over it liberally, splattering the asphalt in front of them as she did so.

She reached around Linden, extending the same familiarity she’d been receiving from her for the last two weeks, and pulled the lighter out of her back pocket.

The bat lit up easily and Nairi twisted it around to hold it upright, offering it to Linden. Linden looked at her, wide eyed, and took the bat. She placed her other hand on Nairi’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “You get me,” she said with warmth, before throwing her head back and cackling loudly, sprinting towards the crowd of students with the bat raised over her head.

Nicholas, next to her, made a faint, strangled noise. Behind her was a scoff and a loud voice. “Well. I’m guessing you must be Nairi.”

She turned and came face to face with an older woman in a rumpled men’s dress shirt and glasses who was glaring at her. She had red hair, natural as opposed to Linden’s box dye, and it was plaited out of the way to keep her tired face clear. Grey blue eyes stared down Nairi under her stern brow, and she uncrossed her arms to step forward into Nairi’s personal space. She was stocky and only a little shorter, barely having to raise her chin. “Just for reference,” she said, tone acerbic, “If I hear a single piece of news about young adult burn victims in the local urgent care facilities tomorrow? I will track you down and hold you personally responsible.”

She stepped away without waiting for an answer, glare sliding over to Nicholas. “You’re so right, Nicholas, I can see how much of a model presence she is,” she said in a way that even Nairi could read the sarcasm. “You remain a uniquely terrible judge of character.”

She strode across the street in the wake of Linden’s chaos. The students had mostly scattered with cheers and yells, and the girl with the megaphone was doubled over laughing in her shopping cart.

Nicholas was very slowly turning red, staring at Nairi with an unreadable expression. She coughed slightly and spun on one foot to follow the others across the street, trying to swallow her irritation at their judgement.

[hiddenclawsof]

aesthetic tag game

tagged by @yutopiada (one of my fav ptg writers out there still notices me to this day im emo--)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

(soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humour | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(seventies!) colourful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(by @masterninjacow!) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(by @cherriigguk!) dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater | up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks |

(by @iniquitouspoppy!) cuddling with pets | collecting art | journaling at night | flower dresses | raccoon eyes | thunderstorms | listening to music in bed | gaming | anything (pastel) rainbow | jumpsuits | taking pictures with an old camera | pictures everywhere | spending time with friends until the sun goes down | being alone and loving it | being alone and hating it | reading in the train or bus | just reading all the time | biking everywhere | buying flowers | biting your lip | blue skies, white clouds | big tattoos | piercings | stargazing |

(by @sweetae-tae) zoning out when talking to someone | travelling with friends | concerts and music festivals | doing something just because it makes others happy | being happy when loved ones are happy | mom-friending everyone | buying new flowers you know nothing about | baking for others | trying out new things | listening to one song on repeat for hours | not being able to find one specific song to listen to | doing things to keep your mind busy | a cool breeze during warm days | staying up for “just one more episode” | wishing on dandelions | collecting four-leaf-clovers | dimples | contagious laughter | decorating your room with photos and postcards and posters | winter nights when it snows heavily

(by @actuallythatwaspromise) bookstores | pearl necklaces | wishing on the first star at night | messy room | tall lace up leather boots | never breaking the rules | thigh high socks | peppermint-mocha frappes year round | no jackets in winter | standing outside in the rain | the scent of pine | watch documentaries for fun | navy blue room | knitted Blankets | eyes that are multi-colored | cool morning mist | perfectly formed sentences | reading poetry to learn new words | swords with golden hilts | wish anklets on so long that you forgot what you wished for

(by @kodabodaa) all black everything | vampire-esque | sitting outside on quiet nights | winged eyeliner | fucked up sleep schedule | standing outside during a downpour | meme photo folder | tattoos | piercings | loves to make people flustered through flirting | first meal not till after midnight | looks like could kill | laying in bed all day | majorly independent | playlists for everything | prince zuko trash | could read you to filth | lack of emotions | once i love, i love hard | not afraid of really anything |

(by @seoultraveller) intense eye contact | deep discussion about passions | naked dance sessions alone in the bedroom | learning foreign language through poetry, song, and history | studying historical dynasties | not studying out of pure disinterest | nervous lip biting | patience | having one drink alone at a hotel bar | pancakes or waffles on a weekend morning | driving down an empty road towards a roadtrip destination | a tryst over the summer that turns into a romantic storytime | traveling to put your school knowledge to use | mellifluous speech | does not speak unless spoken to first | peppermint hot chocolate by the fireplace | wine on the balcony | unknown intensity | crying in bed at night |

(by @daybreakx) hot drinks in tall mugs | glitter eyeshadow | the sensation in your mouth from peppermint + cold | the scent of roses | red lips | talking to yourself in another language | old disney movies | unsolicited information dumps | messy handwriting | cold days with lots of wind | listening to a song you love in public | a playlist for driving even if the drive is 10 min long | heart skipping a beat from happiness | the feeling when a concert is about to start | crime shows | sarcasm | drinking coffee while waiting for your flight | horror stories | scented candles all over the place | daydreaming as an escape |

(by @thelilyshope) sliding on floors wearing fuzzy socks | tennis shoes with dresses | loves horror | making your own coffee | lost in thought while in nature | staring at the night sky | loves the sunrise but doesn’t like feeling tired | falling asleep while bear hugging a plush | the feeling of excitement when discovering a new place | mysteries in old places | learning through travels | slowly reading books | longing for the future | fashion you love but could never try | interested in many but passionate only for a few | warming up under blankets after playing in snow | turning fear into excitement | embarrassing others in public | trying on weird things at the mall for fun | the go-to comfort friend

(by @yutopiada) morning runs through the sleepy neighbourhood | cutting your hair on a whim | clothes that are too big | podcasts and breakfast | writing letters to yourself | the sound and feeling of pressing the keys of a keyboard | songs that remind you of a precise memory | wanting to be different | scared of being forgotten | procrastination | body hair positivity | having a collection of wired earbuds in case one of them breaks | saving empty notebooks because they’re too precious to write in | claiming things as yours by putting a sticker(s) on it | that artificial strawberries and cream flavour | it’s not dessert unless it’s chocolate | white trainers | big, chunky shoes | staring at paintings/artifacts in museums for too long | enjoying old architecture

(by @hiddenclawsof) walking at night to look for something interesting | collection of mystery/murder books | eyeshadow palettes that will not be used | highlighters | converse | not good at giving advises | vintage bracelets | old philosophical movies | peppermint | cries watching animals are being rescued | fidgets when thinking | instruments | typos | kaomoji | observes thoroughly | googles simple words just because | eyeglasses | black earrings | rain | strolling around the bookstore

@yunwoo, @wookikun , @hojinhoe (hi no pressure in doing this but if you want to do this you are welcome to do so ((: )