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eventidespirits · 3 years

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Adam Allistair Freemont

Aliases: Edwin Lockhart, William Silva, Francis LaRue, Everett Brighton, James Fenwick

Apparent Age: "29"

Birthday: August 11th, 1897

Death Day: December 19th, 1926

Species: Vampire (Siren Bloodline)/Bloodbound Spirit

Gender: Cis Man

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: Primarily Heterosexual

Occupation: Photographer

Residence: Santa Marta, California; Morgan Kendrick's Psychic Realm

Universe: Primarily original lore but also Vampire the Masquerade where he's a Camarilla Toreador who defected to the Sabbat.

Appearance:

Height: 6'0

Build: Tall and lanky with angular shoulders and long limbs. He has a trim, lightly muscled physique with long delicate fingers and soft hands.

Eye Color: Luminous Yellow/Gold with slitted cat-like pupils and a darker, amber band around the edges.

Hair Color/Texture: Black, 1b hair texture. Just long enough for the ends to brush against his shoulders. Partially brushed back and parted to the right but a significant amount of his hair ends up falling into his face.

Face: Angular with a square jaw and high cheekbones. He has a mostly straight nose with a slight convex curve to the bridge. He has deep set eyes with heavy lids and dark circles and usually looks somewhat sleepy but in a strangely sensual way. Defined lips that are usually curved into a sadistic little smirk. He's quite attractive but in a way that feels vaguely dangerous or even predatory.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Adam has bright golden eyes with slitted cat-like pupils. He also has a rather large, jagged scar on his back, located between his shoulder blades. I'd include his *other* distinguishing characteristic but that's kinda NSFW ;)

Posture/Body Language: Confident, even arrogant, chin up, shoulders back but not in a way that looks particularly stiff. His body language is generally relaxed and easy, bringing to mind a big cat at rest -- there's always something about the way he moves that implies a predatory nature laying beneath his cool, collected surface. Adam walks with clear purpose and long, smooth strides and always knows how to make an entrance.

Voice: Soft and smooth with a deep timbre and confident inflection. Adam's voice is somewhat like poisoned honey or arsenic laced velvet -- smooth and sweet but with something slightly off.

Clothing Style: Adam prefers dark colors -- burgundy, blood red, black, charcoal, rich deep browns and the ocassional pop of gold or cream or a white dress shirt. He wears primarily expensive, tailored button downs made from things like silk, velvet or very high thread count cotton with the sleeves rolled up and the top three (or four) buttons undone. Sometimes with brocade, floral or striped patterns. If it's cooler out, he'll wear a black blazer or something similar. When it comes to pants, it's almost entirely black or charcoal tailored pants or pitch black jeans. He usually wears very few accessories -- a nice watch, a belt, a silver and garnet ring and a pendant on a thin silver or gold chain. Generally wearing pointed toe oxfords or other dress shoes. When it comes to outerwear, Adam generally prefers things like wool coats and the ocassional leather jacket (always real leather, too) (to get a better idea, check out his [Pinterest Board]

Skills

Social: Manipulation, Lying, Gaslighting, Flirting, Proper Etiquette, Public Speaking, Blame Shifting, Negging, Seduction

Physical: knife combat, some hand to hand combat, basic combat training (circa 1914), long range firearms/sniping, Ballroom Dancing, Fencing, Horseback riding, the carnal arts

Talents: Photography, Drawing, Poetry, Lying, Being an Asshole, Manipulation, Painting, Seduction, Sex

Knowledges: Fluent in French & Italian, Masters in Psychology (circa 1926), Photo Development (wet plate, autochrome, modern methods), some basic knowledge of financial law and property law

Hobbies: Photography, writing, breaking pretty girls, avoiding his deep-seated psychological issues, general hedonism

Special: Emotional Influence, Telepathy, Emotional Transference, Enhanced Stamina, Enhanced Strength, "Immortality", Enhanced Senses (esp sight), minor regeneration, sweet blood, emotional radar/supernatural empathy, hypnosis/mind control

Psyche

Strengths: Charismatic, quick-thinking, clever, good at understanding the thought processes of others, empathetic, deeply romantic, treats service workers well, dedicated, generally calm, high emotional intelligence, has critical thinking skills, polite*, can be incredibly sweet, adaptable, pays a lot of attention to his partners in bed, passionate, artistic, creative, protective

Weaknesses: selfish, self-absorbed, arrogant, manipulative, almost completley lacks compassion, disdain for basically everyone around him, dishonest, has a horrible temper, needs constant attention and praise, has a massive inferiority/superiority complex, overconfident, easily susceptible to flattery, deep-seated intimacy issues, can't stand being wrong, terrified of vulnerability, paranoid, detached from his own emotions/denies his own humanity, callous, sadistic, can be incredibly rude, actually a bit of a coward, condescending, possessive, jealous and generally kind of a dick.

Fears: genuine intimacy, abandonment/loneliness,true death, being buried alive

Goals: To finally create the perfect art piece (i.e., break someone in just the right way -- he's not even sure what this MEANS, he's just sure he'll "know" when he finally does it), to just enjoy his immortality.

Personality: On the surface, Adam seems likable enough -- at least, at first. He's incredibly charming and thoughtful, often anticipating people's wants before they're even able to articulate them, witty, intelligent and seemingly very polite...

But beneath that surface lurks a spoiled rich kid who learned early on in life that having money, being good looking and charming meant he could get away with almost anything. Adam is self-absorbed and arrogant and almost everything he does is a carefully crafted performance intended to get people on his side and manipulate them into doing what he wants.

Beneath even that, which he desperately tries to ignore, is a little boy who was spoiled by his mother and entirely ignored by his (largely absent) father -- a young man who was traumatized by being forced to fight in WWI and who is full of deep-seated fears and insecurities.

To make up for this, Adam is often sadistic towards the people around him -- but in that way where it's difficult to tell that he's actually being cruel until one looks back at the conversation.

He has difficulty genuinely connecting to others because of those insecurities and instead uses his powers as a Siren to make the people around him love and adore him-- no matter how badly he treats them.

Life

Best Memory: Being gifted his first camera, meeting his Maker.

Worst Memory: Somewhere between when he almost died during WWI and his actual death...

Biggest Achievement: Getting his Masters

Prized Possession: Silver and Garnet ring gifted to him by his Maker, his first camera, his black 2020 Ferrari Portofino (with the red leather interior), (he also has an engraved custom sniper rifle but a friend picked the model and shit for me and I cannot remember what it is for the life of me)

Favorite Color: Red, Gold

Favorite Food:

-Mortal Food: Partial to anything rich and flavorful, prefers food that's not pointlessly ostentatious (nothing coated in gold leaf, that's absurd), dry red wines, Italian Cream Cake, Eggs Benedict, Crepes Suzette

-Blood: Blood taken in the heat of the throes of passion from someone that's truly and deeply in love with and obsessed with him...

Favorite Scents: Blood, Gasoline, Cloves, Cinnamon, Resin, YSL Nuit, roses, vanilla, rain, the sharp smell of a cloudless winter night

Favorite Songs: Winter, 1st Movement - Vivaldi, Raindrops - Chopin, La Vie En Rose - Edith Piaf

Can't Leave Home Without: At least one knife somewhere on his person.

Birthplace: San Francisco, California

Childhood: Adam is the only child out of six in his family to survive to adulthood with four older siblings who had either in infancy, had been stillborn or died of tuberculosis when Adam was still too young to remember them. He had one younger sibling, a sister named Mary who was killed in an accident at the age of 6 when Adam was 8 years old. His parents were already a little bit older by the time he was born and his father was the owner of an incredibly lucrative railroad line and had profited greatly from the Gold Rush as well as owning multiple properties in San Francisco and neighboring Santa Marta...

Due to the loss of her other children, Adam's mother doted on him -- giving into his every whim, supplying him with the best education she could and basically just spoiling the ever loving fuck out of him. His father, on the other hand, was always busy with work and when he was home, had nothing but criticism for Adam who desperately tried to gain his approval to no avail.

Adolescence: Adam developed a passion for photography as a teenager and discovered that being good-looking, clever and rich meant he could get away with A LOT more than most people and also meant that he rarely heard "no" and accepted it as an answer even less often (though he rarely resorted to force to get his way, relying instead on bribery, flattery, blackmail and implied threats). All of this gave him quite an interest in psychology and he intended to become a clinical psychologist. During his adolescence, Adam would have a great many girlfriends and despite being a selfish and manipulative little shit, was actually not the world's worst boyfriend and no hint of the violent temper and genuine sadism he'd develop after being Changed.

Adulthood: Adam's education would be interrupted by the outbreak of WWI,which if asked he will describe as "incredibly distasteful and personally inconvenient." He was a skilled marksman and sniper but was otherwise unremarkable -- much to his father's disdain. After nearly dying in one of the trenches of France after taking a grievous bayonet wound in the last few months of the war, Adam would be sent back from the frontlines and would shortly begin work on continuing his education...

However -- despite the fact that he would complete all seven years necessary to get his degree, Adam's interest in becoming an actual psychologist wouldn't ever come to fruition. In 1925, he would meet Amelia Madeleine Smith -- an unbelievably beautiful and charming socialite from Santa Marta who would see Adam's potential as a source of money and influence for the Nightingale Court of Northern California. She would spend the next year carefully grooming him to become her protege -- manipulating him much in the same way he would later manipulate the women he dates as a vampire -- using emotional transference, mind control and mundane manipulation to cause him to fall madly in love with her... In December of 1925, Amelia would finally perform the ritual of transformation on him and bring Adam over into the world of the Supernatural.

Unfortunately for Adam, his Change would take nearly two weeks to complete -- two weeks spent in absolute agony beyond anything he'd experienced before. Amelia, believing the most important first step for a newly born vampire is to break their bonds to humanity would kidnap his mother during this change and leave her for him to kill upon waking. Adam would remain with Amelia (who used her bond as Adam's maker to control most of his actions and her abilities as a Siren to continue to influence his emotions) until 1980 when she was killed by a member of the Bram Park Wolf Pack in Santa Marta, leaving Adam behind. During this period, Adam would end up being "taken in" by a bonded pair of Stryza -- Camille Belikova and Lucy DeSantos and would act as their primary draw for new playthings.

Recent: Adam met Morgan Kendrick at the Velvet Box goth club in Santa Marta when Morgan was twenty two years old and would sweep her off her feet, intending to make her into his "masterpiece"... Three years into this relationship, Adam would finally Change Morgan, which would break the initial control he had over her and result in her, in a fit of rage, completely draining him and through a magical fluke, causing his spirit to become bonded/fused with her blood...

Recently, Adam's presence has disappeared from Morgan's psyche due to the machinations of Miss Belikova and her wife -- though it appears that the two of them are still inextricably linked in a way beyond the usual bond between Maker and Fledgling.

Relationships

Family: Lawrence Freemont (Father; Deceased), Anne Freemont (Mother; Deceased), Mary Freemont (Sister; Deceased)

Lovers: Amelia Smith (Maker; Deceased), Morgan Kendrick (Fledgling, Ex, Soulbond), Many other unnamed girls.

Friends: Camille Belikova, Lucille DeSantos, Jonathan Andreason

Enemies: Morgan Kendrick, the Bram Park Wolfpack

Acquaintances: Miranda Cortez (Queen of the Nightingale Court of Santa Marta)

Income: Moderately Wealthy

Vehicles: 2020 Ferrari Portofino

Residences: Penthouse Apartment in Vista Rosa, a small Victorian row house in Val Del Mar and a 1br/1ba apartment in Park Verde (all located in Santa Marta)

#about: Adam #Adam Freemont #character profile

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thecrownnet · 4 years

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Season four began filming immediately after three wrapped. The ever-aggressive paparazzi snapped many scenes of Princess Diana (Emma Corrin) and former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (Gillian Anderson) filming the penultimate installment, which just narrowly completed production before the Covid-19 shutdowns in the U.K. But the rush to finish didn't affect the costume department.

"With all those custom-made pieces, you have to be ahead of the game," explains Roberts. Her couture house-like department regularly operated on a three-week to one-month-ahead schedule, especially for the "ceremonial" pieces for principles.

"In fact, the last day, it was a huge scene with Diana and that was it," she continues. "We went out on a bang, you know. A massive scene with her in New York, and that was it. No more filming."

[Spoilers Ahead]

Season four extends to 1989, when Princess Diana embarked on a solo trip to New York City — actually shot in Manchester, England — prior to her 1992 separation from Charles. Playing the People's Princess, Corrin was photographed wearing a stunning re-creation of a gold-embroidered, pearl-embellished Victor Edelstein gown and bolero jacket that Diana wore to attend a Welsh National Opera Gala production of "Falstaff" at the Brooklyn Academy Of Music.

As "The Crown" stans anxiously await the announcement of a season four premiere date from Netflix, Roberts revisits some of the costume and behind-the-scenes highlights from three with Fashionista, including Colman's reaction to donning Queen Elizabeth II's intimidating investiture helmet, Princess Margaret's historically inaccurate White House visit dress and Prince Charles's and Camilla's imagined meet-cute outfits. And, yes, the costume designer drops more teasers for the upcoming season, including Princess Diana's "fantastic journey."

Your re-creations for Queen Elizabeth II were so accurate, like the fur-trimmed coat she wore to Aberfan (episode three) and her investiture suit — especially the hat. What was the most challenging costume to recreate and why?

The investiture costume with that extraordinary hat. In "The Crown," you have key moments with actual events that we know about. [The images are] very much out there on film and photographs and you are acknowledging those looks. I hate to say we're "copying" them. I think we're making a nod to them with hopefully a bit of us in there.

But that was quite a challenge because everybody knew that extraordinary medieval hat that the Queen wore. [We made ours out of] a very fine satin georgette and getting that color, that pale clotted cream color, [was a challenge]. For Olivia, that was quite a challenge to wear as well. She's a remarkable actress to work with, as you can imagine. She just lets you do your job. But even she looked slightly askance when that hat came out. But being Olivia, she went with it.

Which costume for Queen Elizabeth II allowed you the most creative freedom, because it wasn't a re-creation?

I'm really fond of when I imagine dealing with the real woman. There's a series of outfits [in episode five], when she is very involved with sorting out her riding stables and her horses aren't doing very well. And she leaves her [royal] role in the care of her mother and goes off [to Normandy, France and then Kentucky] with Lord Porchey [John Hollingworth].

I loved doing her like that. In macs [trench coats] and blouses and skirts and headscarves. The scarves are such a cool look. People can really relate to that now with that slightly Prada and Miu Miu-style shirts, blouses and colors that we went for. When she dines, for once, she's not done up in a long dress. She's in rather attractive — well, I think they were nice — floral silk dresses.

I loved being able to see or pretend or imagine that side of her; that kind of upper-middle-class country woman doing things that she loved. [Spending time with] her horses — not that there are many dogs in that episode — which I think she probably feels most at ease with. Olivia looked fantastic in those clothes. She's like glowing in a way.

Everybody assumes [my favorites are] all the big ball dresses, which are lovely to do. But I like doing that more real element of people. This other side. 'The Crown' gives you that fantastic opportunity — the big, glamour, out there moments — and there's a lot of very intimate personal stuff, where you don't know what they would wear or what they would say, but you can have let your imagination go with that one and that's lovely to do.

In episode two, Princess Margaret goes to the White House to see President and Ladybird Johnson, to help secure U.S. aid. You designed a floral, off-the-shoulder, arm-baring dress, which made sense for her to trade dirty limericks with POTUS. But in real life, Princess Margaret wore a pink, long-sleeved jacket over her gown. What was the inspiration behind changing the design, and what are the print and silhouette telling us about her?

I just wanted to be a bit bolder and more startling. I just remember when we saw that fabric in one of the shops, I thought, 'That's it. That's it! Let's use that for that [part].' Sometimes things jump out at you, don't they? Also, it's a portrayal of Margaret by an extraordinary woman, Helena Bonham Carter. So somehow you're also taking that on board. With Helena, you could push it a little bit further and she would just be bold and brave with it herself.

Princess Anne is considered a fashion icon and as young woman in the late '60s and '70s, she was able to push the fashion envelope and do things like wear jeans and mini-skirts. How did you use her costume to show her as the more independent one in the family?

I don't think she represented the wild '60s. But the mini-skirts — the short skirts — that she wore, represented the '60s in a kind of posh-girl way. The first image that we had of her [to work off of] was written in the script as Anne in jodhpurs. That blew it all apart, didn't it? Here's this girl, strutting through the palace in riding breeches and boots — I think that's how it was written — that was my big guide into how we would deal with her.

There's a little shot of her [in episode six], when she visits her brother, when he's performing the play and she's in the audience. She's got '60s baker boy cap on, but there's nothing extreme about her. It's sort of sensible. It's getting that balance of that youthful brashness, but still she's a princess.

I did enjoy the scene where a buttoned-up Prince Charles calls her from Wales because he's homesick. She's in her room at the palace — and it's all messy — and she's wearing high-waisted flare jeans and a Hawaiian-print, long-sleeved T-shirt.

[That] was a scene where you could do that. She's on her own and I quite like that because it was contrasted against Charles, who never gets to be relaxed. He's at university. He's still wearing those little old man clothes, like tweed jackets and sweaters. I mean he looks adorable, because the actor's quite adorable, isn't he? [Ed. note: Yes.] He never somehow lets his hair down. So it was quite fun that she was dressed like that and he was in corduroy trousers or slacks — they were called slacks then — and a jumper.

It was really quite funny, the director of that particular episode, Christian Schwochow, is quite young himself and also German. So his view on the Royal Family was quite refreshing and we wanted to blow it out of the water as much as we could.

What inspiration and process did you go through to design and create the costumes for imagined scenes between Charles and Camilla?

There's very little reference [imagery] on her in that early time. With Camilla, it's a sexy posh girl with, dare I say, not a huge amount of style. Why should she? Why should she have that? So it's just that Sloane Ranger girl. We were just trying to tune into that and her country pursuits. So after she marries [Andrew Parker Bowles, played by Andrew Buchan] in series four, suddenly she looks a whole lot more herself, really. She's living the life she wants to in the country, [as part of the] the country set. It was a little point to what she'd become, probably. She's fun, relaxed and not particularly into clothes.

In series three, you know that you'll see a lot of these people again in series four. So you're kind of giving little pointers to what they'll become when they're a bit older and more settled. And people have a style. You change, of course, but you are what you are. You just get a little more sophisticated or get a little more confident.

Speaking of, images of Emma Corrin as Princess Diana in famously-photographed outfits (or variations of them) have been caught by paparazzi. How does Diana's place as an international fashion icon influence how you designed her portrayal in season four?

Well, she was brilliant to do because she has a real journey in four. Most of them do, but she, in particular, has a fantastic journey — a real arc — again, like Camilla. We kick off with a nice little Sloane Ranger, wearing bobbly old jumpers, and you end up with a dramatic change. A complete manipulation of her look. Like, she puts on suits of armor to protect herself. So that's all we'll say about that.

What hints can you share about the other members of the Royal Family in season four?

The Queen grows in being steadier in her role and her marriage. I'm always saying this, but whatever issues she has — or had — in the marriage, [she and Philip, played by Tobias Menzies] found a way of dealing with that, like a lot of marriages. It's just everybody maturing.

And Margaret — that very tempestuous relationship she has with Tony at the beginning, it's just getting more and more toxic. Of course, in four, her life is really a real mess and we just illustrate that with her clothes. But the colors are much more dour and bruised and her flamboyance from three is slightly toned down now. Charles actually matures into a married man, quite stylish, but, again, an unhappy marriage. And good old Queen Mum stays the same. Lovely Queen Mum. I love her.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

#olivia colman #gillian anderson #helena bonham carter #josh o’connor #the crown #tobias menzies #ben daniels #erin doherty #emerald fennell #emma corrin #marion bailey #the crown netflix

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meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

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Vermilion. (m)

↳ chapter twenty: the moon on a chain

❧ genre: pro-hero’s bakugou/kirishima, poly, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings:

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

You walked around the city, boots clicking against the pavement as you clasped your trench coat tighter around your body trying to hide from the windy and chilly air. The colder seasons were your favorite more multiple reasons, the weather in general, holidays, and the colors. You were just a brighter and happier person in those months. As you patrolled the city today though, you were cursing how impractical your hero costume became on these cold days. Today was actually only your second day back on patrolling duty, the past 2 weeks you were stuck on desk duty just like when you first started at the agency. But at your latest doctors appointment, the man cleared you as 100% recovered despite your scars and that meant you could get back in the action, but under one condition.

Working with Katsuki or Kirishima only.

“Freezing your tits off princess?”

A teasing and brash voice spoke into your ear as you felt arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to now walk awkwardly as Bakugou held on.

“Shut up Baka-gou! The thought of being outdoors in freezing weather may have slipped my mind. Now get off, we’re on the job right now! Someone might see and start going nuts,” you replied elbowing him.

“And you think I give a fuck? I wish those fucking leeches would catch us together! Then shit would really hit the fan huh?” He snickered and tickled your sides, referring to an article that was published a week ago of you and Kirishima.

You couldn’t help but giggle. Once you were showing improvements in your recovery the boys got more comfortable with taking you back out into the world. The week before, you and Kirishima went grocery shopping and an off-duty worker for the towns hero magazine happened to catch the two of you being all giddy and in love while on the train. Kirishima was all about PDA, he’d litter your face with kisses, never let go of your hand, held you tight and close to him. The paparazzi worker took advantage of this rare sight and snapped a few pictures, soon news of ‘Red Riot Under Bruja's Spell’ spread across Japan like a plague. Everyone at the agency always poked fun, wondering when someone would catch you and Bakugou together and how much of a shit show that would be.

“You’re such a fucking chick Suki, you just live for drama!”

Rolling your eyes you managed to push the hero off but were soon pulled back and into an alley. Your back was slammed against a wall and Bakugou’s massive arm gauntlets trapped your head. His crimson hues burned into you and a smirk played on his face that was nipped by the cold and pink.

“Is it wrong that I want the world to know that you belong to me as well?” Bakugou cooed before biting down on your cheek roughly.

“Hmm,” you teased, taking longer than he wanted to answer back, causing the male to bite down harder and place a knee between your legs and press it hard against your core. Your fingers dug into the brick behind you and a purr left your lips.

“I’m fucking teasing Suki! Of course it's not wrong, I want the world to know that as well! I see all the girls that drool over you on the street, they still think you’re free real-estate.”

The blonde completely released you, letting his arms fall to his sides and kissed your forehead. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time, a smirk on his face.

“Good answer, I guess we’ll let you have your gifts after all. Now come on, it’s time to head back. We got a birthday to celebrate princess!”

Back at home the three of you took turns with showers and getting ready. You and Kirishima always took the longest when it came to your hair, so Katsuki opted to shower alone and fast while you and Kirishima showered together. The red head washed your (h/c) locks for you, always adding way more shampoo than needed but you never complained. He’d just barely harden his fingers and massage your scalp each time, be playful and try to spike up your hair. Showers with the red-head were always fun and sweet. As he put conditioner on your ends you made small talk.

“I told you guys, I didn’t want to make a big deal about today, but you didn't listen! You even got the entire agency to go out for me with a party!”

“Well when do we ever listen to you mama? This is a day we get to celebrate and spoil you!”

“And how is it any different from every other day with you two,” you chuckled and hummed as Kirishima finished running the product through your hair and wrapped you in his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, you got me there. I know you don’t like birthdays, but this is your first one with us and we’re really excited about it, please just let us do this and if it happens to not be to your liking, then we'll listen next year, okay?”

Kiri’s voice was soft and soothing, and you nodded.

It was true, birthdays weren’t your thing. You didn’t like to think about getting old and to you it was just another day but both of the men had been having this glow about them all day long so they obviously had something exciting planned and who were you to dull that happiness.

“Alright Kiri, I’ll give it a shot!”

After a few more minutes the two of you were out, a towel wrapped around your body and one wrapped around Kiri’s hips. You bent over to wrap a towel around your hair and the man playfully smacked your ass almost making you fall over, always forgetting his strength and apologizing as he grabbed your hips before you could tumble to the ground. Standing up straight again and turning to face him you smiled and put your hands on your hips.

“So, anything special I need to wear?”

Half an hour later downstairs, the two men were fully dressed and impatiently waiting.

“I’m about to go up there, that stupid old hag probably fucked up on the measurements I gave her,” Bakugou growled and shot up from the couch.

“Whoa there, chill man, I’m sure she’s almost done!”

Kirishima laughed catching his friend by the back of his blazer.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, swatting the hand that held him back away and stood at the end of the stairs looking up and leaned against the wall. Bakugou was a mess, all day he played it cool as if he was collected but underneath the date they had in mind for you gnawed at him. The man was a sort of perfectionist, especially when it came to you. He called the place they would be taking you to multiple times, making sure that it was indeed reserved and closed to the public for the night. He made sure that Kirishima in fact brought their gifts there and set them up correctly.

“Bakugou, everything will be perfect, stop stressing man. Remember where we took her for the first date? A goddamn bowling alley! Trust me, she’ll be over the moon for this!”

“I know that idiot! I just don’t want anyone or anything to fuck up her night.”

Kirishima went to reply until he heard a door upstairs opening, both men looked, hearing the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors. Both their hearts seemed to beat faster than humanly possible the closer the footsteps got. It felt like the first time they took you out all over again. They both straightened their clothes. Their outfits matched besides their tie colors, both wore black slacks with a black button up shirt underneath black jackets. Kirishima donned a yellow tie while Suki, after 15 minutes of begging from his friend wore a red one. Both of them stood, shoulder to shoulder with their hands in their pockets as they waited for you to descend down the stairs.

“If I’m the only one looking this fucking fancy, I will kill you both!”

Kirishima and Katsuki chuckled with each other and watched as red heeled feet made their first step down. As your ankles started to merge into your calves, black tulle could be seen bouncing with the steps you took. More and more, your body started to come into view and both pairs of vermilion eyes widened and sparkled, jaws were dropped. Looking down to watch your step underneath the amount of tulle, your fingers also held back your bangs from falling into your eyes. A black bandeau type halter wrapped and encased your chest, revealing a more than decent amount of cleavage and exposed shoulders and arms. The men could see your soft mounds bounce as you walked, making Bakugou rethink ever asking his mother to design you an outfit ever again.

A high-waisted black tulle skirt sat perfectly at your hips and hit you mid-calf. Per the men’s request you wore zero jewelry, an odd request at that. It made you feel even more naked in the chest area since your hair was in a top knot. Your eyes finally looked up to the men standing before you and a smile crossed your red lips.

“Aww, don’t I have the two best looking boyfriends in the world!”

Both of your lovers smiled and kissed your cheek as you stood before them, their eyes wondering over every inch of your body. They exchanged compliments with you themselves, making your cheeks blush violently. Apparently Katsuki’s mom had made the dress specially for you and this night. You found it odd that the blonde took your measurements a few weeks earlier, when you asked what he was getting them for he did say that his mother was designing you a dress but it was supposed to be for some hero banquet that was held every winter.

“So, I guess that excuse about a hero banquet was bullshit huh?”

The blonde smirked and shook his head, “No that was true, but we also wanted you to have something special to wear for tonight that you couldn’t find anywhere else. Fucking Mitsuki is getting an ear full tomorrow about this!”

Kirishima took your hand in his, twirling you around and whistling until you spun into his chest, your back flushed into him and his arms wrapped around you tight as he nuzzled your neck, complimenting how well of a job Mitsuki did on your dress. The blonde smirked and took a long step closer to the two of you, placing himself before you. His red eyes dark and gleaming. You felt teeth at your shoulder making you gasp as Bakugou lifted your chin with his finger. The mood in the room quickly changed from light-hearted to sexual in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t fair sometimes having two boyfriends at a time like this, trapped with no way out, not like you wanted a way out though but you did enjoy this outfit and wanted to at least spend a few hours in it before it was torn to shreds and Mitsuki's hard work would be all for naught.

“That old hag did too good of a job, how are we supposed to take you out in this?” Bakugou growled through gritted teeth, his finger now scraping down your breasts as they were pushed together, tracing the curve of the soft and supple mounds.

Kirishima’s sharp teeth dragged down your skin and one of his hands turned your face so he could plant a hot kiss to your lips. Once he broke it, another hand was on your chin, gripping and making you look forward again as Bakugou’s own lips crashed into yours with another hot kiss. You were powerless to them, already melting and feeling arousal pool between your legs.

“Damn this skirt, it’s too long and the waist is too tight for me to slip my hand into. I bet you’re already soaking wet, huh cutie?”

A quiet ‘yes’ left your lips and the two men chuckled as they both left pecks along your neck and shoulders. You were slowly getting sucked into their spells until you realized what this night was about in the first place.

“S - fuck, goddammit! Stop it! You two can wait a few more hours for this, I’m hungry and I want my presents!”

Kirishima laughed, quickly changing his sloppy kisses to sweet ones, Bakugou rolled his eyes and bit your cheek, releasing you with a smirk.

“When we get back home, we get to unwrap a present of our own!”

Before leaving the house you were blindfolded by Katsuki, you growled thinking it was another sexual advance but he assured it was just until they got you to your destination, but that the garment would definitely be used later. They each took one of your hands and walked you outside to a vehicle, both agreeing that you looked way too good for other people to see and refused bringing you on a train.

The whole ride over to wherever the fuck it was you were going was full of you guessing. You guessed DisneyLand, the beach, a few restaurants, the bowling alley that you were banned from, and all kinds of other places only to be met with harsh ‘no’s’. You also had to blindly swat away the men's wandering hands as they both tried to slip them under your skirt or into your top. It was a fun game to them since you lost your sight and would jump each time one of them whispered in your ear or squeezed you.

“We’re gonna have so much fucking fun with you tonight princess. It’ll be like it’s our birthday instead!”

You heard a clap as both Katsuki and Kirishima high-fived each other behind your head, making your eyes roll underneath the black blindfold.

“I’m dating teenagers!”

Only a few minutes later you felt the vehicle slowing down and finally coming to a stop. Your hands flew to the barrier around your eyes but were quickly stopped. Sharp teeth bit at your cheek then were at your earlobe.

“If you so much as touch these without our permission, your cute little ass is going to get it later, understood baby girl?”

Your bottom lip retreated between your teeth as your thighs rubbed together from Kirishima’s words. Another set of teeth were at the opposite lobe, warm breath now fanning both sides. On each thigh a hand was placed and squeezed simultaneously.

“Answer him princess, you know how not using your words only riles us up even more!”

Bakugou’s voice now burned on your skin and you grit your teeth, feeling the heat rising from your core and into your chest as you swallowed harshly.

“Yah! I understand! Now let off!”

Your own hands pushed away their hands and you motioned for them to get out, not sure if you were even motioning in the right direction. Your ears could hear the door opening, cool air rushing in and making you shiver. A warm hand took yours and Katsuki coached you to the edge of the seat, your feet hanging out the door before he grabbed your waist and helped you out. Something wrapped around your shoulders and Kirishima was heard chuckling behind you as you jumped.

“Calm down mama, it’s just my jacket! Take our hands and we’ll get going.”

You did as instructed, holding out your palms to have them taken immediately by a man on each side of you, kisses were planted on your cheeks and they started to walk. When you’d come to steps, the two would instructed you like a child. So far just the journey was fun to you. The three of you soon stopped and a door could be heard opening and you continued to walk again. The air wasn’t as cold and the ground turned from concrete to what felt like flat carpet. You couldn’t exactly place a finger on the smell, it's almost as if there wasn't one.

“Guys, how much further?” You whined.

“Oi, only a few more steps brat! When we say ‘now’, you can take off your blind fold.”

Sighing, you wanted to just start running but knowing your luck, you’d face plant into the ground. Once again you were at a stop as your boyfriends hands left your own and you could feel them leaving. You wanted to take the mask off but remembered their warning and let your hands fall to your sides, grabbing at the tool of your skirt as you whined out their names.

Both men looked on at you, standing in the middle of the massive room clutching your fabric and trying to contain your excitement. They both looked at each other and nodded and announced together.

“Okay, now!"

Your jaw dropped as you took in the surroundings. Miscellaneous types of fish swam around the massive tanks that made up the walls of the room you were standing in the middle of. The only light filling the room was dim, making it feel like you were indeed on the ocean floor. Quickly you walked over and pressed your face and hands to the glass, awing at the gorgeous coral reefs and plant life, the colorful fishes. Until, something dark loomed overhead making you furrow your brows and look up.

“Holy. Shit.”

Above you, gracefully floating along was a massive whale shark. How you didn’t see it in the first place blew your mind. Whale sharks were your favorite ocean animal. You only ever dreamed about seeing one in real life and going into the oceans to swim with one of the gentle giants. They were so beautiful, the underside of their bellies white against the contrasting dark color with white spots on top. Your eyes watched as the shark floated and started to descend lower and even closer into view, your heeled feet quickly walked over to it. Your fingers brushing the cool glass as if you could touch it through the thick barrier.

“That’s a pretty big fish huh?” Kirishima’s voice spoke next to you.

You looked at him with sparkling eyes and he gave one of his famous sharp toothed grins. Touching your cheek, he leaned down to place a soft kiss to your lips.

“This is … I – I don’t have any words. It’s beautiful and it’s perfect!”

“Are you happy?”

Bakugou’s voice rang in your other ear, as he leaned an arm against the glass and looked into the tank, a hand in his pocket. You smiled and lunged to hug him, almost knocking the breath from his chest. He grunted but hugged you back, patting your hair and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Of course I’m happy Suki, I’m elated, ecstatic, over the moon, bliss –“

Bakugou placed a hand over your mouth with a chuckle, it was quickly removed and he kissed you just as softly as Kirishima had done, lingering for longer though. His red eyes were open and he saw his friend give him a nod. Katsuki broke the kiss, placing his hands on your hips and slowly turning you around, pulling you into his chest as he hugged you from behind, hooking his chin over your shoulder. You chuckled and looked before you to see Kirishima standing there with his hands behind his back. Quirking a brow you looked from him and to Bakugou, unsure of what exactly they were plotting.

“Ready for your first gift princess?” Katsuki asked, smiling against your skin.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded eagerly, making the two men laugh. Kirishima walked closer until he stood before you pulling out a small flat black box from behind his back. You looked at it closely, it was obviously some sort of jewelry box.

“We know how badly you wish to have the moon and you know if we could it would be yours in a heartbeat, right?”

You nodded in reply and Bakugou's grip around you tightened. Kirishima smiled and his fingers gripped the edge of the box, slowly opening it.

“Well, hopefully this satisfies you for now while we figure out how to get you a real one.”

You grinned and looked to see the red-head completely open the jewelry box, revealing a white-gold crescent shaped pendant with diamonds lining the curve of it. It seemed to sparkle and shine even without being moved.

“Oh w-wow, it’s so pretty. Is it mine?”

Bakugou laughed and released you from his hold as his hands reached out to remove the necklace from the box. Holding it closer his cleared his throat, making you get the hint that he was trying to put it on you. The chain wasn’t loose or tight, almost like a choker and the pendant rested perfectly between your collarbone.

Katsuki moved from behind you and stood by Kirishima, both of them looking over you and grinning.

“Well how does it look?”

“Perfect!” They both blurted out in unison.

You smiled and hugged them both, placing a kiss to each of their lips.

“I love you Katsuki, and I love you Eijirou, these gifts are way more than I deserve and this is really the best birthday I’ve had so far. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank us yet mama, you still have one more left from each of us. Let’s go sit down and eat, then you can open those!”

After eating the food that the guys had brought over, you were extremely full and miserable. Your face lay flat on the table as you groaned, rubbing your stomach. It was all Bakugou’s fault, he tried saying that you couldn’t possibly finish the entire steak and sides on your plate and of course not being one to back down from him you emerged victorious while also wanting to die.

“How about some cake?” Kirishima’s voice sang out.

“No! No more, I'm gonna puke!”

Bakugou laughed and pet your head, quietly mentioning something about more presents. Your head perked back up and you smiled. Both boyfriends smirked and sat two small bags on the table.

“These aren't really anything special or as extravagant as the necklace but we couldn’t resist. Open mine first mama!" Kiri so eagerly pleaded.

You smiled and grabbed the red bag, quickly ripping the tissue paper from it. You squealed when your eyes landed on two different Funko Pop boxes. Removing them you couldn’t help but smile. It was a Beast Boy and Raven. To others the small toys may have meant nothing but the guys knew you were a collector of the figures and it was even better because of the pet name the hero called you by.

“Kiri, this is so sweet and perfect! I’m going to put them on their own little shelf.”

Bakugou subtly pushed his green gift bag towards you with a smirk. You smiled and took it, doing the same as before. Your eyes went soft and you placed a hand over your heart. You pulled out yet another Funko and held it to your cheek, smiling wide at the blonde. It was a Gizmo from Gremlins. These two were really pulling out all the big guns with your gifts, making you fear for how Christmas would turn out.

“Suki, I love him! God - thank you guys so much. I’m so lucky to have you, really.”

Kirishima and Bakugou proudly smiled and leaned over to places kisses on each cheek. For the rest of the night, you spent your time marveling at the fish and whale shark again, and talking between your two boyfriends until the two decided it was finally time to end the night and get you home. There was no objection, you honestly were pleased to hear the words. Once in the backseat of the vehicle you were lured into before, you stretched out between the two heroes. Your head rested in Kiri’s lap and your legs in Bakugou’s. Hands massaged your scalp and calves, and quickly you were fast asleep.

Once home neither of the men bothered to try waking you, Kirishima gently gathered your body into his arms and exited the vehicle. Bakugou followed behind and paid the driver. Once at the front door Bakugou fished out the keys and opened it for his friend, they both sighed as they walked through the front door. It had been a big day not only for you but also for them, with having to set up everything on top of work they were pretty worn out themselves.

A soft and high pitched sigh came from your lips as you nuzzled more into Kiri’s chest. Both men looked at you, Katsuki smirked and walked over, his hand petting your hair before he placed a kiss to your cheek. His fingers moved to trace the pendant that laid on your collarbone, even in the dim light it still sparkled.

“I was honestly nervous as fuck that she wouldn’t like this thing,” he softly said as to not wake you.

“Bakugou, I think we could’ve gotten her a macaroni necklace and she would’ve been happy. She’s just that type of person.”

“Tch, we would’ve saved a shit ton of money if we took that route, huh?”

The two stared at you, smiles on their faces as you slept peacefully, Kirishima leaned down to kiss your forehead and shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s worth every single penny though.”

“Damn right she is. Come on, let’s get her to bed, I feel like it’s gonna be a two man job to get that tight ass skirt off of her hips!”

You were carried up the stairs and gently laid down on your bed. Katsuki and Kiri both removed their coats, the red-head took them, placing the garments on the chair in the corner of your room. They both started to work on dressing you down, each took one of your small feet in their hands and removed the red heels. You flinched as Katsuki’s fingers grazed the inner arch of your foot, he chuckled and started to lightly flick the skin with his fingers tickling you more. Your face started to twitch and groans came from your mouth.

They both snickered and snorted, until your leg kicked, almost nailing the blonde right between the legs. Kirishima couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he took the heels and sat them on the ground.

“Little shit, nearly clipped me!”

“Well don’t tickle me asshole,” your sleepy voice suddenly blurted.

The men looked to see you slowly sitting up on your palms and rubbing your eyes. You yawned and rubbed the back of your neck looking at them with a quirked brow.

“Were you just going to let me sleep?”

“Well yeah, why wouldn’t we?” Bakugou asked.

“You two seemed very determined earlier to get into my panties, what happened?”

They looked at each other, Kirishima shrugged his shoulders.

“Uh – I guess we just figured you were tired mama.”

You smiled and moved to sit on your knees, inching towards the end of the bed and looking between both men. Without their coats, both of them had pushed up the sleeves of their dress shirts, showing off their muscular forearms. Their entire torsos looked amazing in the snugly fit shirts along with the pants. Just the sight of them had you quickly brimming with lust, the little dream you had during your power nap also didn't help with the situation.

“I’m far from tired Red. In fact I’m all ready to go, wanna feel?”

You bit your lip, hands running up your thighs and pushing the black tulle back as one of your hands went to disappear underneath it.

“You little fucking minx!” Bakugou smirked as he started to loosen his tie even more.

“Get your cute little ass over here, now!” The red-head gleamed, licking his sharp teeth and holding out a hand for you.

Smiling, you took it as he helped you off the bed. Bakugou was quick to pull your back into his chest and attacked your shoulders with harsh kisses, his canine teeth scraping against your skin. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them back into his own, a sweet groan leaving his mouth. Your hands got to work on un-doing the yellow tie from Kirishima’s neck, his finger hooked under your chin making you look up to him so he could place a rough kiss on your lips. You moaned into his mouth as the man behind you reached his hands around and aggressively groped your breasts and bit down with sheer force on the crook of your neck and started to suck.

Your fingers curled into the button-up shirt and tugged. To undo the obstacles you reluctantly broke the hungry kiss with Kiri, making him resort to kissing your jaw and neck. His tongue darted across your now flaming skin, making you giggle while your fingers quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed the fabric down and off his shoulders. You marveled at the hard and flawless chest underneath, hands running over his pecs and mouth kissing his collarbone. Your hands traveled down and undid his belt in record time and removed it to work on the button of his pants. His own hands were on your shoulders, turning you around to face Bakugou.

“Sorry mama, that’s all you get for now,” Kiri growled into your ear as he and the blonde switched roles. His own razor sharp teeth biting down the back of your neck.

You lips were soon met with Katsuki’s, you could feel the smirk and bit down on his lip harshly, payback for the bite he gave to your neck. He growled out a usual insult but shut up once your hand groped his hardening member over his slacks. Your free hand tugged on the tie around his neck, pulling him closer. Kirishima’s hands lifted and bundled up the tool of your skirt, cool air hit your exposed thighs and his hands were able to find your ass and squeeze roughly. Hardening the tips of his fingers, you could feel them digging into your plump flesh. Your hands worked on removing Bakugou’s shirt the same you did with Kiri’s but you left his tie on.

“You two still have that blindfold?”

“It’s in my pocket cutie, don’t worry we haven’t forgotten about it. We’re just being generous right now, letting you take in the sight of us. We know how badly you wanted to strip us first.”

Your head turned around to kiss Kirishima with a smile.

“You’re so thoughtful Red, use this on me too,” you tugged on Bakugou’s tie making him growl and bite your cheek with a devious grin.

Both men smiled at each other and nodded.

“It’s still your birthday princess, so your wish is our command.”

#vermilion #bakugou x reader x kirishima #kirishima x reader x bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #xreader #reader insert #polyamory #poly relationship

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 5 years

Text

전웅, Jeon Woong

shizziebo asked:

So, one more but can you write a fic where woong tries his best to get you to notice him romantically (kinda like indirectly ‘read between the lines’ actions) but you haven’t caught on and he gets to the point that cause you’re focusing on the other members (binging up what they’ve done together with you), he becomes frustrated that he suddenly kissed you and the becomes super shy about it after!!!

Group: AB6IX

Member: Woong

Woong sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. After a particularly tough day at practice, he’d just started to wander the streets. Without realizing it or even really comprehending where he was going, he found himself in a park, orange and gold leaves crunching under his feet.

He felt somewhat peaceful in this place. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe the cool, crisp autumn air. Whatever it was—it felt like the first time he could actually breathe all day.

There weren’t many other people around. Mostly older couples and dog-walkers. It was probably just the way the day had been going so far, but he felt particularly sentimental looking at an old man pass by, pushing his wife along in a wheel-chair.

They looked so happy together, just being in each others presence and talking about nothing in particular. He didn’t exactly know why, but he’d been craving that kind of connection nowadays.

He loved his work, he loved his family, he loved his friends, but there was just a slight nagging at the back of his head... He wasn’t old, per say, but he also wasn’t getting any younger.

The main thought on his mind was: what kind of person would he grow old, grey and wrinkly with?

He’d started asking himself silly, existential questions at night when he couldn’t sleep. Things like: ‘Is fate real?’, ‘Do soulmates exist?’ and ‘What kind of person will I fall in love with?’. Even more importantly though, ‘What kind of person will fall in love with me?’.

Silly things like that.

He took a deep breath, the air stinging his lungs. It was only then he realized how cold he was. His jacket wasn’t that thick, he didn’t have any gloves, and he’d forgotten his beanie back at the practice room.

He sighed again. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he huffed. His mind wandered as he walked on, lingering on some things more that others. “I must be crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

He wanted to slap himself, because he just felt so sorry. Sorry and pathetic.

“You’re on a team,” he chastised himself, giving his cheek a light smack. “Why are you only thinking of yourself?”

He stopped walking, feeling a semi-familiar emotion wash over him. A semi-familiar, painful and pitiful feeling.

Hopelessness.

He felt his eyes well up with tears. With a quick look around to check for any passerbys, he spotted a tree. It was the prettiest tree he’d ever seen, tall and imposing, golden leaves holding on by mere threads, highlighted by the setting sun.

Without realizing it, he found himself under it, staring up into its long, reaching branches. He must have fallen into the habit of not noticing things that day, because he didn’t realize that the dam in his eyes had broken either.

He sniffled, his lips quivering. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” he whimpered.

“You’re crying?” he heard a voice.

He spun around, shocked. He wasn��t scared, though. The voice was very comforting and warm.

Standing in front of him was a young woman dressed in a deep orange trench-coat, black leather gloves and a droopy, hand-knitted cowl. She was smiling at him so warmly, like a fire in winter.

A complete stranger, striving so hard to make him feel better.

“I thought it was just the rain,” she said. “It’s raining pretty hard right now.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. There was no rain.

She chuckled a little, pointing to her cheeks, as if gesturing to the salty pools that were pouring out of his eyes.

Suddenly, it dawned on him.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, voice a little raspy. “It is raining pretty hard.”

She nodded, seemingly pleased that he was playing along. “Well, unfortunately,” she started, “I don’t have an umbrella on me. But if you stay out in the rain, you’ll get sick.”

He stayed quiet, wanting to hear more of what she had to say.

“But it’ll probably be less lonely if we catch colds together,” she said with a shrug.

“Are you offering to stay with me while I sob?” he asked frankly.

She held back a laugh, covering her mouth. “I wasn’t going to be so direct about it, but basically yes,” she said. She tilted her head. “Would you like that?”

He contemplated for a moment. On the one hand, he didn’t know this girl at all. She could be a serial killer. On the other hand, she made his shoulders less heavy, just by standing there and smiling at him. Even without him knowing a single piece of information about her.

“I would, actually,” he said, blinking away his tears and feeling a smile tug at the corner of his chapped, blue lips.

That’s how he met Mag. That wasn’t actually her name, but since meeting more with one another, they’d given each other nicknames.

She called him Rainy, and he called her Mag, short for an English word Daehwi taught him that he thought suited her quite well. ‘Magnificent’.

Though... He never told her that part.

They’d been meeting often, nowadays. Almost every Saturday.

Woong would always say, “Wow! We’ve got to stop running into each other like this!”. He played it off like he took walks there every Saturday at around 3:45, and luckily, it seemed like she believed him.

The truth was though—he’d never been to that park before the day that it was ‘raining’. He’d never been there, and he didn’t plan on going back, seeing as it was actually quite a trek from the dorms.

But for whatever reason... The Saturday after that, he found himself going back to that park with the massive tree. Just out of curiosity, he assured himself. He just wanted to see if he’d spot her again.

And he did. He kept going there on Saturdays to see if he could spot her. It soon became a scheduled part of his weekend.

A little creepy? Perhaps.

A little strange that he’d worked out the times she usually showed up? For sure.

Did he regret it? No. He could’t really find it within himself to regret it.

After about three weeks, he started ‘accidentally’ bumping into her. They’d walk together and talk for a few hours, and then once the sun started setting, they’d part ways, going back to their respective homes.

That part always killed him, yet he didn’t know why. At least until four weeks ago, that is. Four weeks ago, he’d had an epiphany.

He liked spending time with her. He really liked it. Another thing he’d realized...

She was the type of person he would fall in love with.

He just wasn’t too sure about her feelings on the matter. Whenever they ‘accidentally’ bumping into each other, she seemed happy enough, but he worried that was just because she was a happy person.

She smiled at everyone.

The kid that tripped that one time that she helped up, the lady that bumped into her and spilled hot coffee all over her white button-up, the dog that got off its owner’s leash and jumped up on her, leaving muddy paw-prints—pretty much everyone.

That was one of the things he liked about her. Not matter the situation, she found a way to breathe and work through it, even when he could tell she was a little annoyed. It would flash across her face for a second, but then she would let it melt away, forming into that enchanting smile.

He found himself hoping that the smile she gave around him was totally genuine. He wanted to be the reason that she smiled on Saturdays.

That lead him to another epiphany.

She wasn’t the type of person he would fall in love with. She was the type of person he had fallen in love with. Maybe a little too hard and little too quickly, but he couldn’t help but feel strongly about her.

She was his umbrella in the rain, and he wanted to be the person she told her secrets to. He wanted her to be comfortable frowning around her, because a frown, after all, doesn’t always mean you’re upset or sad.

A few times, he had wondered, “Am I too young to be feeling like this?”, but then it would hit him. Age meant absolutely nothing. If he didn’t try, he’d never know and he’d just end up regretting.

Unfortunately... As much as he tried to explain his feelings to her, she didn’t seem to be getting the hint. He’d gotten the: “You’re such a good friend!” so many times, he was starting to lose hope.

But he told himself something on Friday night. “Don’t you dare give up,” he’d said, clenching his sheets in his fists. “She’s worth more than that. She worth more than a halfhearted shot.”

Woojin groaned from the other bed. “What’re you doing..?” he mumbled sleepily, his words slurring.

Woong froze, a cold rush shooting through his veins. “Nothing!” he stuttered, trying to keep his voice quiet. “Nothing at all. Just talking to myself. Go back to sleep.”

His head flopped ungracefully back onto the pillow. “Planning on it,” he huffed.

Woong listened out for his breath. When it finally became even, he let out a sigh of relief. That was too close. Of all things, he didn’t want the members finding out about her.

1. They would never let him live it down.

2. They would most likely unintentionally ruin everything.

He wrung his fingers nervously just thinking about it. What if one of them was more so her ideal type? He knew he couldn’t force her to like him, but he also wasn’t too keen on having competition on his hands. Especially ones that had a fair amount of blackmail on him.

Too many funny stories and embarrassing moments.

He thought for a moment. Maybe being more funny would appeal to her? She did have quite the playful streak when she was in the mood. He rubbed his temples, trying to calm his racing mind for the night.

He’d think about it in the morning, when it really mattered. Because tomorrow was his favorite day of the week.

Saturday.

++++

Daehwi groaned as he watched Woong slip his sneakers and mask on. “Are you going to the park again?” he asked.

“It’s Saturday,” Woong said simply. “Of course I am.”

The youngest flopped dramatically onto the couch. “Why do you go there, anyway? You’re never here on Saturdays.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s a lie,” he said. “I’m here all morning.”

“And then you’re gone all afternoon!” Daehwi said, holding a pillow up threateningly. “You don’t come back until it’s almost dark. I’m beyond suspicious of you.”

He snatched the pillow out of his hands, throwing it back into the sofa. “It’s not a big deal,” he chuckled. “I’ll try to come back earlier today, okay?”

With that, he was gone.

Donghyun looked up from the book he was reading. “So,” he started, elongating the vowel, “are we gonna follow him?”

The youngest smirked. “But of course.”

Youngmin popped his head in from the kitchen. “Wait, what?” he said. “We’re not going to follow him.”

Woojin rushed down the hall. “We’re following Woong?” he asked. He started slipping on his jacket. “I’m so in!”

The leader’s jaw dropped. “Are you guys ignoring me again?” There was no answer, just the rustle of jackets being put on and shoes being tied. He sighed. “Really? Nothing?”

“Did you hear something, guys?” Daehwi asked, slipping on a beanie. “It sounds like Youngmin’s ghost.”

He scoffed. “I’m not dead!”

Daehwi turned to him, an impish glint in his eyes. “If you were truly alive, you’d help us stalk Woong,” he said.

Slowly, his resolve dissipated. It didn’t feel exactly right, but he was pretty curious as to what Woong had been up to lately as well.

Youngmin groaned. “Why do I even listen to you guys?”

“‘Cause we’re right,” Donghyun said.

++++

Woong waited by his usual spot, humming quietly. He shifted his weight impatiently from foot to foot.

He checked his phone a couple times. She was later than usual today.

Finally, he caught view of that iconic trench coat. She looked a little downcast today. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and jogged up to her, putting on his best surprised face. “Mag!” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She looked up at him, her face brightening. That sent his heart fluttering. “Rainy!” she said. She gave him a quick hug which he fully complied to and returned. She pulled away and started walking again, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“What’re you smirking about?” he asked, leaning forward to get a better look at her face.

She shrugged unconvincingly. “Nothing, really,” she said.

“Liar,” he chuckled.

She joined in, her nose crinkling with laughter. “Fine!” she said. “I’m just starting to feel like these little chance meetings of our aren’t all that much... Chance.”

He blinked in shock before chuckling nervously. “What?” he asked. “That’d be insane. Borderline stalking, you know.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said. “That’s why I mentioned it.” She bumped playfully into his side, pushing him a little off course. “But, hey! We’re friends, so even if you are kinda stalking me, I don’t mind too much.” She flashed him that smile again. “I give you permission.”

He prayed that his cheeks weren’t heating up. Visibly, at least. “Why would you say that?” he asked, albeit a little shyly.

She shrugged again. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “You seem like you’re a good person. I think you won’t hurt me.”

Out of nowhere, there came another voice. “Oh. My. Gosh,” it said.

Woong tensed up. He’d know that tone and pronunciation anywhere.

He whipped around with wide eyes. “Daehwi, what are you doing here?” he asked, panic set into his tone. This was literally his worst nightmare. Even worse was the fact that everyone was there.

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking the group up and down before giving a lopsided smile. “Do you... know them?” she asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

He sighed. He supposed there was no avoiding it now, despite how down it made him feel. “They’re my roommates,” he said, decided to skip over explaining the fact that they were an idol group. Just for today.

Daehwi’s jaw was still dropped. “You have a girlfriend!” he gaped. “How could you keep that from us?”

Woong shook his head. “Actually, we’re not—”

She chuckled. “We’re not dating,” she cut in. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to her warmth. “Just friends over here. Good friends, but friends nonetheless.”

He had to admit—that hurt to hear. It hurt his pride, his confidence and his heart.

From that day on (much to Woong’s dismay), his members were involved in a lot of their activities together. His trips to the park on Saturdays weren’t alone anymore. The walks that he and Mag used to share together, just sharing secrets and opinions together quietly, weren’t the same anymore.

They were louder, more energetic and much more fast-paced. It wasn’t that he disliked his friends being there, but he did feel slightly annoyed by the fact that she seemed to have more fun with them around than with just him.

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t disheartening. Irrational jealousy, he supposed. They weren’t even together, yet he felt like his friends were encroaching on their special time together.

In short, he was sulky. He was disappointed in himself for not trying harder to win her over. He was losing confidence because she started hanging out with each of them individually, become close friends with them.

They had inside jokes now. They laughed by themselves now. She whispered in their ears too, now. Did she share any of her secrets with them? Did they know more about her than he did?

That thought terrified him. So much so that it was 4 AM and he couldn’t even fall asleep.

It was the biggest relief of his life when his phone lit up with a notification. An even bigger one when he checked it and it said:

New Message

From: Mag(nificant)

With a little too much eagerness, he unlocked his phone and scanned over the text.

Hey, Woongie!

His heart fluttered in his chest, hitting against his ribs. When did she start calling him that? He felt sour thinking about the fact that it was probably a habit she picked up from Youngmin.

I know you’re probably asleep, but if by some miracle you’re not... Let’s meet up. I can’t sleep and I’m hungry and I’m at that cafe by the park that we got to sometimes and I ordered some waffles.

He almost cheered out-loud, but thankfully, he stopped himself. Woojin was right across from him, snoring lightly, and that would just be a disaster and a half.

A new message popped up on the screen.

I kinda miss our one-on-one hangouts, I think. 😂

He could only type back one thing: “I’m on my way.”

++++

When Woong walked into the cozy cafe, leaving the nippy weather behind him, he was pleasantly attacked with the smell of lattes and waffles. A nice change from the dreary smell of the oncoming winter outdoors.

His eyes immediately went to the back of the cafe; he knew she’d be there. And sure enough, she was, munching on a plate of waffles with a sleepy expression.

He almost wanted to snap a picture since she looked so cute, but he stopped himself. Instead, he just watched her for a moment, smiling fondly with his head tilted.

There was something about how she appeared to him right now that seemed so forever-material. Maybe it was her tired eyes, but resting smile. Maybe it was the fact that she was surrounded by gentle browns and beiges.

Maybe it was the fact that the city lights outside the window made her look like she had on a halo made of white-light.

He chuckled to himself. “A literal angel,” he marveled.

Finally, almost as if she had heard him, she looked up. Her expression brightened and she gave him a wave.

He returned the wave, his stomach doing somersaults.

She gestured for him to join her, and well... Who was he to refuse?

He sat down in front of her. “Hey,” he said with the same fond smile on his face. For whatever reason, it wouldn’t go away. Maybe because he was tired. He took off his coat, draping it on the back of his chair. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess,” she said. “Not being able to sleep sucks. You probably know that, though,” she chuckled. “You were still awake.”

He laughed along with her. “Yeah, it sucks,” he agreed. “So, what’s wrong? Got a lot on your mind?”

She shook her head. “Not really,” she said. She rested her chin in her palm, staring out the window. There were only a few cars passing by, but he knew she was counting every one of them in her head. “I just couldn’t find a comfy position and I was left craving waffles because of a weird half-sleep dream, so I came here.”

She looked back at him. “You were just the first person I thought of. If you were awake, I wanted to share this moment with you.”

He felt a pang in his chest, but more of warmth than of pain. If she thought this way, maybe he still had a chance.

“So,” she continued, “how’s everyone doing?”

Well. There goes his confidence.

He slouched back in his chair a little, trying his best to keep from sighing. “I don’t know,” he said. “Sleeping?”

She laughed. “I meant emotionally, Rainy!”

He shrugged. “Search me,” he said indifferently.

“Are you okay?” she asked with furrowed brows. “You seem off. Maybe a little frustrated.” She was always good at reading him, ever since that day it was raining.

Concern passed across her features. “Did I actually wake you up? Are you cranky because of that?”

He shook his head frantically. “No! No, no way!” he assured her. “That’s not it at all!”

She let out a breath of relief. “Okay, good,” she said. “The other night, I lost track of time and I called Donghyun while he was asleep and he got so pissy with me.” There she was. Talking about his friends again. She giggled at the memory. “It was so hilarious. He was all like—”

Woong suddenly leaned over the table, startling her into silence.

He wasn’t really sure what he was doing right now, but he couldn’t really stop it either. He’d like to blame it on sleep-deprivation, but it was deeper than that. It was a matter of the heart.

His heart was what made him cup her cheeks and stare deeply into her eyes, as if searching her soul. His heart was what made him say the words, “What am I going to do with you, Mag? If you wanna talk about them over me, fine. I’ll just have to become more memorable.”

It was his heart that made him lean in and capture her lips. It was tender and respectful. Yet... It was so, so deep. If emotion had a flavor, Woong had tasted it, because when he pulled away, he was left dazed and breathless in the most beautiful way.

His eyes couldn’t even open for a few solid seconds. When they finally did, meeting hers—wide and flabbergasted—the reality of what he’d just done crept up on him. Fast.

He shrieked in the most high-pitched tone, pulling away from her at lightning speeds and falling back into his chair with a clatter. “Oh my gosh,” he gasped, covering his mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m so—”

She interrupted him with something that nearly blinded him.

Her smile. Her true smile.

“What took you so freakin’ long?” she asked, just as breathless as him.

He blinked, confused. “Pardon?” he managed.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh my gosh, Jeon Woong—do I have to spell it out for you?” The blank stare on his face told her ‘yes’. “I like you, Rainy,” she said. “I like you so much.”

Now that was some good news to lose sleep over. He’d lose countless upon countless hours to relive that moment over and over again.

All of his existential thoughts and questions didn’t seem quite so meaningless anymore.

He’d found it. The type of her that would fall in love with him.

Thank God it was her.

Sooooooo... Yeah. I wrote this at 2:30 in the morning, so it’s probably really soft. XD I get really romantic when I’m tired.

I hope you enjoyed it, @shizziebo! I enjoyed writing it a lot. As always, your requests are awesome.

#for cheya #ab6ix woong #ab6ix #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #request #reaction #requested #kpop drabbles #jeon woong #woong #woong imagines

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trashismysol · 6 years

Text

Sunday dream share #2

OOC NOTE, I REALIZE ITS MONDAY AND I FORGOT LIKE AN IDIOT. Ahem

It was a normal day, occasional fights that resulted in death, gun shots in the distance, but that was a flash back now it's quiet, people are just walking really bored all itching for something.

The city is being heavily controlled by a powerful regime that has unrivaled man power and military prowess, who can do what ever they want such as shoot down a bunch of protesters who were in front of him large home. He and two other guard's that were his friends decide to go down to a store called "IOWA PARTS" which had three employees. When they arrived they threatened to kill them if they did not leave the 1st and 2nd person were leaving to grab there things however the 3rd one stayed to watch the leader and his two friends. One of the friends drew his gun but was hit in the neck that caused him to collapse and die. The leader took a few steps back as his other friend started to walk towards the 3rd guy to kill him.

It was a short fight and when the 3rd guy looked up, the leader was gone.

A few weeks pass and the trio of former "IOWA PARTS" are in a shelter devising a plan for something... it fades black and said "End of part one"

It was a club night that most of the guard's went to, there were many protesters in front of the leader's house again but the leader didn't mind, as a matter of fact he didn't care. We quickly switch to the 3rd guy who grabbed something and went off to sneak into the club's upper floors as the 1st and 2nd people went to do something else. #3 pops out of a vent and gave a signal by pushing a button, a distant explosion is heard and he starts to move occasionally fighting and brutally murdering any guards that try to stop him. We once again shift to see a Bar stand worked by several other bartenders, the bar area on the top floor isn't always busy but the bartenders still remain vigilant, a distant explosion is heard and they all nod and grab something from under their work stations. The guards are too buzzed or drunk to notice until they're filled with lead, the employees close the window overlooking the room as it was heavily armored, more guard's u use into the room and try to entire behind the bar stand through the hallway that leads into the bartender's work place. No use the bartenders knew that and quickly shot them down, they lift up the armored window and see the bodies of who they murdered, they're very happy for doing this.

3rd guy is in the stair case leading to the top floor with bodies and more guards behind him, he's a bit tired but they'll still fight. He busts through the door with a guard on him and two more guard's enter from the stair case, the ones who entered are mowed down by the bartenders and the one who is on the 3rd guy has his weapon knocked out of his hand, the both get up and the guard that was on him puts his hand up. The 3rd guy signals one of the bartender's to point his gun at the guard as he pulls something out real quick. He pulls out a map and a holographic display of the city. The guard marks all interesting points that are in purple all vital target's homes in red, and guard barracks in a slightly darker red. With key points (power centers, armory, factories, etc) owned by the regime with a gold color. The holographic display beeps it colors are transfers the data to the map. After all is said and done, more guard's bust through the stair case and hallway behind the bar stand, the bartenders and the 3rd guy fight furiously leaving one by one through the vents. They quickly had to scatter and did so in the vents, we follow the 3rd "IWO PARTS" employee as he enters the roof he pulls out his map to see what to strike first until he hears a bigger explosion, it's almost deafening. Sirens are alarmed throughout the city and activate. The 3rd guy pulls out his binoculars and looks at the massive amount of smoke that has some fires spreading through out, he sees mostly a blend of black and grey smoke for a short while, until something big moves and rises from the smoke. It's...looks like and dragon, but without wings.

It fades to black again. But instead of a "The end" or "to be continued" it shows a pair of glasses falling into the abyss and breaks in slow motion.

Note: Everything looks similar to the "Madness combat" series

Minor details, 3rd guy had glasses, 1st guy had a vest, 2nd guy had a trench coat

"It was all in Nevada"

#Sol's dreams #madness combat mention #Meanwhile in nevada #i watched a lot of madness combat series before i slept

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fangirlingtodeath513 · 7 years

Text

the future is bright | a 13x15 coda

read here on ao3

The door to Dean’s room creaks open at nearly four in the morning, and he’s facing the door with his gun pointing at whoever it is within a second. He can make out the sound of a swishing trench coat, so he removes his finger from the trigger and lets the gun drop to point at the floor when Castiel flicks the lights on. Dean rubs his eyes, stashing his gun back under his pillow after putting the safety back on.

“Hey, Cas. You just get back?” Castiel nods as he sheds his trench coat and suit jacket, laying down next to Dean once the hunter moves over.

“A few minutes ago. I put the fruit in the area we agreed upon. You found the blood?” Dean yawns, nodding and pulling the blankets over both of them.

“Yeah, couple days ago.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “We got in the middle of this weird artifact war between this rich dude and the head of the Scarpatti mob. They stole the skull of Saint Peter from Malta and this priest from there came after it. Turns out he was the holy man the whole time.” Castiel hums softly beside him.

“At least you got the blood and made it home safely.” Dean hums and nods slowly, taking a moment to yawn before pressing himself against Cas’s side.

“So you found the fruit?” Cas nods, smiling softly as he cards his fingers through the hunter’s hair.

“I did. It took me a while, but yes. It’s locked safely away. So we’re halfway there.” Dean shifts, looking up at Castiel.

“You ever think this is a bad idea?” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“The spell? Are you having second thoughts?” Dean shrugs, sighing softly.

“It just seems like whenever we try to do something for ourselves, we screw it up and bring on another apocalypse. Maybe we just… shouldn’t.” Castiel hums thoughtfully.

“Perhaps.” Castiel’s hands stop in his hair, so he turns to look at the angel again. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines.” He confesses, meeting Dean’s eyes. “This spell is… risky. We don’t know much about it, and we don’t know if both Mary and Jack will be able to make it through.” Castiel sighs, resting his hand between Dean’s shoulder blades. “It would be ideal if we could get Jack to open a portal on his own and close it once they’re both back. That way we know for sure that Michael and his army can’t make it through.” Dean nods his agreement, rubbing his eyes. “Perhaps we should discuss this in the morning, with Sam, when we’ve all had our rest.” Dean nods again, closing his eyes.

“You’ll stay?” Cas smiles gently.

“Of course, Dean.”

· · · ✤ · · ·

Sam is the first one up the next morning. It’s not entirely surprising, since he has a habit of going for morning runs when they don’t have a pending case. Dean and Cas shuffle into the kitchen once Sam is showered and halfway through making coffee.

“Sleep okay, Sammy?” Sam nods, hitting the button and watching as the coffee starts to brew.

“Yeah. Better than I have in a while.” Dean nods, grabbing a few things from the fridge and setting about making breakfast. Castiel hovers nearby, glancing at Sam once he settles at the table.

“I don’t think the spell is a good idea.” Sam’s eyes flick up to meet the angel’s, surprise written on his face.

“You… what?”

“I don’t think the spell is a good idea.” Castiel repeats, adding a small shrug at the end. “We don’t know that it will allow both Mary and Jack through, and we don’t know that we’ll be able to close it again.”

“I’m not leaving them over there, Cas.” Dean winces at the harshness of his brother’s tone.

“That’s not what he’s suggesting, Sam, come on.” Sam’s glare turns to him and he feels like shrinking.

“Then what exactly are you suggesting?” Dean rubs the back of his neck, pouring himself some coffee and sitting.

“Jack opened a portal. If we can get in contact with him, then maybe he can do it again and close it behind them. Then we won’t have to worry about Michael.” Sam rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Right, and how do you propose we get in contact with them? Kaia is dead, the dreamwalker Jack found is dead. We don’t exactly have a magical world-hopping phone lying around.” Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, man, I’m not saying we abandon the spell altogether. I just… think it’d be good to consider other options.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Sam pushes his chair away from the table, storming away in a way very reminiscent of his childhood.

They eat their breakfast in silence, cleaning up the dishes afterwards. Dean motions for Castiel to follow him, and the angel doesn’t even hesitate to do so. Dean leads him to one of the untouched wings of the bunker.

“Sam and I got talking about the future the other day. Got me thinking.” Castiel raises his eyebrows, waiting for Dean to continue. “We’ve got this whole bunker here, and all the knowledge the Men of Letters collected, and right now it’s just… sitting here. We’ve got hunters out there putting themselves in danger and living out of shitty motels to save other people.” Castiel hums, nodding and pushing one of the doors open.

“Have you spoken with Sam about this?” Dean shakes his head, glancing at Castiel. If the angel didn’t know any better, he’d think the look the hunter was giving him was a shy one.

“I wanted to get your opinion first. See if you thought it was a good idea before I asked him.” Castiel smiles reassuringly.

“I think it’s a great idea. We’ve got more than enough rooms, and we’re centrally located in the U.S., it would be more than feasible to turn this into a hunter’s headquarters.” Dean nods, glancing past Castiel into the bedroom.

“It’ll be a lot of work.” Castiel hums, nodding.

“It would. I’m sure we could handle it. I have faith.” Dean smiles softly and nods, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ll talk to Sam about it. See if we can’t get a few of these rooms cleaned out and reach out to a few hunters.” Castiel smiles and squeezing his shoulder gently.

He gives Sam a few hours to cool down before bringing the idea to him. He agrees to it, so two weeks later they’ve found the Seal of Solomon and cleaned out six of the rooms in the other wing of the bunker. Dean reaches out to a few different hunters and invites them to the bunker, with the condition that they help clean out more rooms and organize the massive amount of artifacts in the bunker’s storage rooms. The few hunters that aren’t busy take them up on the offer, and Garth and his wife come to visit as well. They’ve got the rest of the wing cleared out in a week, and between the three of them, Garth and his wife, and the three other hunters staying with them, they’ve got a steady stream of artifacts being examined and catalogued. A couple of the hunters even speak French and Arabic, so they help translate some of the books in the bunker.

They get Mary and Jack back a month later. Turns out Kaia didn’t really die. Long story short, she helped them get in contact with Jack and he opened a portal. He and Mary made it through and it closed well before Michael and his army are anywhere near close. With Lucifer in their world, Michael doesn’t have any archangel grace aside from his own, so they feel relatively safe letting thoughts of that world go.

Six months after that, the bunker is up and running as a hunters safe haven. Sam doesn’t hunt anymore, he mostly stays behind to help out with research and make sure those staying there are comfortable. Dean and Cas hunt seamlessly as a team, and the hunting community is more competent than it’s ever been. With ideas from all over the community, they’re able to help monsters cope without hurting anyone, and keep an eye on the monsters that don’t cooperate.

Turns out, the Winchesters get to leave a good legacy after all.

#13x15 #coda fic #my coda #supernatural #spn spoilers #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #plans for the future #blood of a most holy man #fruit of the tree of life #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #garth fitzgerald IV (mentioned)#mary winchester (mentioned)#jack kline (mentioned)#kaia nieves (mentioned)

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fst-critique · 3 years

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There is something enticing about getting lost. Outside of missing an exit on the highway or losing cellphone service while on a hike, finding yourself facing uncertainty carries with it a notion of bliss that is both enticing and frightful. As has been the trend for three seasons now, creative director Hedi Slimane has undergone another transitory assignment of whom he will dress for the current times. Starting with Dior Homme in the early 2000s, Slimane catered to an androgynous audience with slim tailoring and sharp suiting, throughout both stints at Yves Saint Laurent, the muse was that of rockers and celebrities as trashy opulence and grungy glam defined a new era of dress for the Parisian Maison. Now, as the digital age has bellowed to include audiences of massive scale and diversity of age, the rockstars and a-listers are out- Tik-tokers and the restless generation-Z have caught Hedi's interest and launched yet another chapter in the Hedi Slimane Diary of Dress. Youth centric and forever chasing a demographic that will forever be his junior, Hedi Slimane’s Cosmic Cruiser collection for the Spring-Summer 2022 menswear journals the existence of teenagers in a time like no other. Adrift in space and forced to face a life where the only certainty is apparent chaos, Slimane intensifies his relations with the youth by tapping into the conflicted souls and minds of wandering adolescents. “Riding a new age, restless dreams of a Cosmic Teen” is displayed beneath the film per Celine’s website. The presentation, lasting just under 15 minutes, is an action-packed event staged in the French island Île du Grand Gaou. Riding branded dirt bikes, a gang of- barely- leather-clad dirt-bike riders tackle the beach terrain with a fearlessness that only an unbothered and unafraid teenager could express. The set mirrors that of an X-Games stage with ramps and an all-black runway. As the deep, monotoned voice of Izzy Camina rings out full of a careless nonchalance, Hedi’s defiant vision for the season renders its aggressive, absent head. Surrounded by the raw beauty of the beach, the set and resulting work aggregates on a theme not of a utopian sureness, but instead on confusion, conflicting ideologies, and rebelliousness. These are not easy clothes to combat the harsh realities of life’s struggles, rather, they are representative of urges to dismantle hierarchies, break conventionality, and to ultimately define a new era of manliness- all taking place and able to be viewed by millions for free on the wild World Wide Web. The Chinese media platform Tik-Tok boasts an egregious number of users at around a count of 1 billion worldwide. Per the statistics, every 1 out of 7 humans on earth has registered an account on the application. Living in an actual multi-media universe has given an unprecedented amount of access to the youth that carries with it many a consequence. New trends arise daily, inspiration is filtered through a screen, and reality is augmented to display a falsified version of being. Establishing a personality need not be so troublesome, after all, with the tap of a button and the swipe of a finger, a finely crafted, superficial, and specific version of identity is created, as is the methodology behind this campaign. Filtered through a scope of less-is-more and an uncharacteristically relaxed output, paring a puppy-patterned wool cardigan sweater with a black tulle skirt comes across natural for such a state of being. It is not about taste, rather, what arrives through such a process of unmeaning. Typography and subtle hints of feeling were everywhere. The phrases Heavenly Days, Dream of Me Please Dream of Me Please, and So Happy to Be Part of The Show were placed on the back of a tailored jacket and denim vests, each exuding a moment of fear of being forgotten as well as the need to remain relevant. Highly literal, the wording reads as insecure and unsure of what the future will hold. Experimental silhouettes resulting from the unfocused fashion encouraged styles that welcomed the 70s flared trousers, 90s rave denim, and 2000s slim-cut leather pants. Search engines such as Google and Safari allow users the ability to step back in time and arrive at any moment in history within seconds. The Cosmic Cruiser idea extends well into the zeitgeist's obsession with history and all things nostalgia, while a futuristic longing kept pace. White cotton blouses show a moment of soft masculinity and flowed with the ocean air only to be held down by a heavy studded black leather vest- a subtle nod to the Edwardian period of men's dress. A wool gabardine trench coat, sequined yokes, and chain-mail tops harken a mood to the 80s glam period. Even with such a new aesthetic, this love affair with shin has remained a constant. Studded submissive collars from the Teen Knight Dream collection, a palm tree one-earring only an e-boy would dawn, and a Baja beanie shapes the thrifty accessories. Metallic bolero jackets, cowboy boots, and shorts push into a realm of otherworldliness yet are grounded by intensive layering. For all its mismatching and absentness, a linear element accompanied the gathering. The camouflage and animal prints- zebra, cheetah, and snakeskin- beach imagery, and motorcycle boots keep a proven underlying tone flowing. Acting as a foundation to introduce the Nouveau, the concept is smart, organized, and well-thought-out. Adding to the success of his staple pieces- including the highly interchangeable element of his daywear- the less sophisticated apparel should please the suits at LVMH and their top line. A black and white bolero jacket with a palm tree motif stitched into the chest and a camouflage coat with a logo placed across the back shoulders is street-friendly and will sell instantly. Pair these with any Celine Skater Pant, denim, camp top, or t-shirt; the resulting work is highly versatile and accessible. Marketing to a customer base that takes its queues and style directly from the newest celebrity influencer on an app makes the task of connecting with a global audience simple. Given this, one may hope with Slimane’s established place within the world of fashion that he would attempt to define a new trend or introduce a fresh concept to the information age instead of mirroring what already works. After all, this is the designer who made extra-slim-tailoring cool again, re-introduced the heroin chic look like something to strive for in the late 2000s, and sent out over 110 looks in the Fall 2020 collection during the height of the sustainability debate- his ability to draw a reaction is just as good as his craftsmanship. This season's reaction is nil. Nothing to grasp at, pontificate over, or reflect on. Phenomenally cut clothing, outstanding handwork, and an aesthetically pleasing look, all familiarities admirers have grown accustomed to, nevertheless, the shock value has vanished. This begs the question then, as life rides into the future with only dreams to remain hopeful, is it Hedi who is lost, or is it his boys?

#Fultonstcritique #Celine #Menswear #Spring Summer 2022 Menswear

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looselucy · 7 years

Photo

February

Every single time we sat in a lecture looking at a power-point presentation, one that was available for free online, I mentally kicked myself for paying the thousands of pounds that I was for the pleasure. Nothing made me more bitter.

To be honest, I didn’t feel like I was learning much at university, at all. It felt like a lot of stress, which resulted in a degree and the slight chance I would look better in a job interview, rather than actually learning. I didn’t regret going, I wasn’t considering dropping out or anything, but sometimes the whole thing just seemed to be one more step up the ladder, so maybe I could land a job where I could finally start paying back the debts I owed from going to university in the first place. It was on days like that Tuesday, in our first lecture back, where all I could see for myself was a dull future. Working a 9 - 5 and owning some average car with an average husband and feeling unfulfilled. I definitely shouldn’t have been on that course. At least if I was studying photography, I would be one step closer to being in a job I actually wanted, but I couldn’t imagine my current course getting me somewhere where I could feel satisfied with my life. They were deep thoughts to be having on a Tuesday morning, and they exhausted me, even ignoring the blissful night’s sleep I’d had, Harry cuddled behind me the entire time. “Hey, guess what?” Ed whispered as I jotted notes. “I did some maths, and it turns out we’re paying around one-hundred and thirty-six pounds per lecture. So that’s the money we’re down today, for reading a fucking power-point.” Ed’s thoughts were along the same track as mine, but Ed was thinking more along the money side, the here and now. I guess maybe it was because it was a Tuesday, and were used to having insightful talks and arguments in those lectures, rather than sitting down and taking notes. It felt like a massive slap in the face, and it wasn’t really what we wanted on our first day back. “That’s a disgusting amount of money.” I huffed. “Right?” “I wish you hadn’t told me.” “Knowledge is power.” He smirked. “Silence is golden.” I smirked back. He stuck his tongue out at me like a child before going back to writing. It was bitterly cold that day. I was awaiting Spring, which was just round the corner, knowing it would still be cold, but at least those arctic temperatures would be a thing of the past, and the near future. “You never told me how your week with Harry was.” Ed whispered next. ”If there’s one thing I hate doing, it’s admitting I was wrong.” I sighed. “But Harry Styles... although it pains me to say it, is a really decent lad. Heart of gold.” Without any reason for us to be sharing a bed in the first place, I had awoken with my limbs locked and tangled and lost between his, our alarms ringing at the same time, Harry’s bobble having fallen out in his sleep at some point, curls poking all over the show, lips swollen as though I had been biting and kissing at them all evening, though they hadn’t had a second meeting with my own. Harry was nice to wake up to. “I told you!” Ed tried and failed in his attempt not to raise his voice. “Did you meet Niall?” “YES!” I cried, failing too. “Loved him!” “I think I love Niall even more than I love Harry.” “Well, duh! Niall is a king.” “ED SHEERAN. PIPPA PAYNE!” Our lecturer shouted from down at the front. “Must you always be the loudest people in here?” “I’m paying enough.” Ed scoffed. “You’re not the only one paying to be here, Mr Sheeran, so you might want to tone it down a bit. Other people are trying to work.” Ed rolled his eyes as a way of protest, but we pretty much kept shtum for the rest of the lecture, actually doing as we were told, which was boring and tedious but it had to be done. When 1pm hit it was finally over, and we both skipped happily out of the hall and began walking towards our flats like we did every Tuesday. I figured it would probably be best to go and do some more reading, since I had fallen asleep during my attempts the evening before, but the thought of terrible daytime TV distracted me. Also, the thought of going out that night lingered in my mind. It was likely we would, knowing the lot of us, and I couldn’t decide if I was excited or dreading the evening to come. “Hey, I hear you met Ronnie!” Ed chirped. I furrowed my brows, a little confused by what or who he was talking about until it clicked. The girl I had walked home with that night after Thimble, with the nice voice and the gorgeous dark skin, who had held my hand and called me her friend. “Oh shit!” I whelped. “Yeah. Yeah, she said she lived in your building.” “Well I’d seen her around but never spoke to her, and then yesterday she came bounding up to me talking about you and how nice you are and stuff. Said you met when you were drunk.” “Yeah! She seems lovely. I should text her, really.” I smiled. “Oh, and the quiet girl in my flat, Ringo? She needs your help.” “My help?” He baffled. “She has this exam coming up and she’s playing a piece on the violin, and I told her your feedback would be better than mine.” “Oh. Okay. Thanks, I guess.” “We’ll have to set a time at some point. I’ll ask her later.” Sooner than I had hoped, the point where our paths parted arrived. Ed gave me a hug and cheery goodbye, before tucking his hands into his giant trench coat and scuttling off in the right direction. Fuck, it was freezing; the sooner I was inside and watching Judge Rinder or some other form of utter crap, the better. I also had a microwavable pizza just waiting for me. My building was in sight, and I was close to running to just to feel warm again, but just as I turned the corner to get into my home I screamed, a body meeting mine and wrapping tight around me within seconds. But I didn’t care. Because it was Zayn. “HOLY SHIT!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around him too. “Holy shit, you’re home!” “I missed you so much!” He squeezed. “I thought you weren’t back til tonight?” We began swaying back and forth. “I came back a little early!” I ignored how cold I was and we probably hugged for a good couple of minutes. I knew I had missed him a lot, but it was only seeing him that seemed to reconfirm it. Zayn was my best friend there, without a doubt. Luckily, being with Harry, I had been distracted enough to not think about it too much, but if I had been at home, bored, how much I missed Zayn would have been a near constant thought. It’s easy to spot things, living with people, being around them constantly. You grow used to everything about them, the good and the bad. There isn’t any bullshit. From day one, everything is how it should be, nobody puts up much a front because, why bother? You live with those people. You’re going to see them warts and all. Thanks to that, me and Zayn had been able to see, clearly, that we were a match made in heaven, friendship wise. He unhooked himself, eventually, shivering and burring as he did. “I forgot how bloody cold this country is.” He shook. “Can we go in?” His arm threw itself around my shoulder as we wandered inside. I wrapped one of my arms around his waist and tucked in as close to him as I physically could, grateful to have him back. We got into the lift and Zayn pressed the button to go back up. He looked happy. His skin had darkened a little more thanks to his week away, and I could see in his eyes that even pressing that button to go upwards felt so familiar and comforting to him. “How was Barcelona?” I asked, still latched to the side of him. “Amazing.” He grinned, kissing the top of my head. “Warm. Lovely. Such a cool city. We’ll go one day.” “We should.” I smiled. University friendships were for life, my mother had told me in the months leading up to me leaving, and I couldn’t help but smile at the amount of years me and Zayn had to do things like that; to go on holiday, if we wanted. “Feels so good being back though.” He sighed, head falling back. “I know! Didn’t realise I was going to miss this place!” “How was your week?” He asked as we got to the top floor. “Just been talking to Harry about it. He said he had a good time.” “Good. Yeah it was good. Fun.” “Best thing that could have happened for me. You two are finally mates. I can’t wait to go look round that house tomorrow.” “I hope it’s nice. We could probably do with putting the deposit down. The more people I speak to, it seems like everyone has it sorted.” I said as we stepped out. “Have you broke the news to Tally yet?” “No. She has her boyfriend here so I haven’t even spoke to her yet.” “Tally has a boyfriend?” Zayn put his key in the door. “Apparently! I don’t really know.” We went inside and went down to the kitchen, and I smiled like a mad woman when I saw Harry in there, three cups of tea on the table and his two dimples in his cheeks. “I made tea!” He beamed, feet on the table again. “I bet it’s shit!” I huffed. “No arguing, you two!” Zayn pointed his finger between the two of us. “I want nothing but blissful friendship from here on out.” I sat in one of the camp chairs as Zayn sat down next to Harry, who quickly tucked Mr Malik under his arm. They rested their heads together sweetly as I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. But it was nice. For the first time, I wasn’t worried about their friendship, worried about Harry taking Zayn away from me. For once, it was actually nice to see. Being friends with Harry was taking many of the stresses in my life away. Everything felt really good. “So, this house situation.” Zayn sighed. “Are we happy? Us three living together?” “Definitely.” Harry replied, winking at me, in a friendly manner. “Pip?” “Yeah it’s good. Really good, actually.” “The only things I need to ask then, is if Ed has someone to live with?” Zayn asked me. “Yeah. He’s got a flat with someone next year.” I replied. “And Tally?” “I’m not living with fucking Tally.” Harry scoffed. I kind of got where he was coming from. His and Tally’s friendship had ended before it even had the chance to start, and I completely understood that he didn’t want to live in the atmosphere for any longer than he needed to, I just didn’t like how bitter he seemed about it, almost like it was her fault. I choked over it, ignoring him. “I’ll speak to her. She hasn’t even mentioned the living situation next year, so hopefully it’ll be okay.” I couldn’t help but feel like I was talking out of my arse. I didn’t think she would be okay with it, at all, but I didn’t want to live with someone just because I felt sorry for them. It was nice having her there and she was a good friend, but now we were at the stage where we could choose who we wanted to live with, she didn’t quite make the mental cut. I didn’t feel good about it though. “Okay.” Zayn leaned forward to grab his mug. “I just wanted to make sure you were both happy with us three living together next year. I kind of jumped on the chance whilst it was there, before you start bloody hating each other again.” “I can’t see that happening.” Harry concluded. “Okay, good. Good stuff.” Harry then grabbed his tea and practically downed the whole thing in one swoop, and I could tell once he was done, how pleasantly surprised he was by the aftertaste. Tea was not the kind of drink Harry was used to downing. “Right, I better shoot.” He said, getting up on his feet. “Going to my lecture a little early to talk about the changes that’re being made thanks to me. Me. The amazing course changer, Harry Styles.” Zayn kicked him further towards the door, laughing at the idiot, as I sat still shaking my head. I couldn’t help but get a little excited about the year to come, living with those two would be fun. (Also, my friends from home would probably die looking at how gorgeous my two roomies were.) “Good luck!” I wished upon him. “We out tonight?” He asked, backing out of the door. “Nooooo! I tell you every week, I’m in at nine on Wednesdays. Do you know how many Wednesday lectures I’ve missed?” “How many?” Zayn inquired. “I don’t know! LOADS!” I cried. “So, I’ll take that as a yes?” Harry grinned. “NO!” I tried once more. “Alright, good stuff. I’ll pick you both up some booze.” He ignored me. Without giving me the chance to fight once again, Harry skipped down the corridor and out the front door. My opinion and my schedule meant absolutely nothing at that point. We were going out. Zayn knew it too, that’s probably why his grin was so wide and mischievous. + + + Tally’s boyfriend was an arsehole. I might have come to that conclusion pretty quickly. I mean, within like, two words from him, but you know me well enough by now and this was not the first time I had come to a snap conclusion about someone. Myself and Zayn had knocked happily on her bedroom door to invite her to accompany us on the night out, and when she answered, I scowled almost automatically. He had her tucked into his side, possessively so, eyeing both me and Zayn up with a filthy look, like he hated us. We asked them to join us, and Tally’s face lit up for a second before he answered on both their behalf. “Nah, we’re good, tar.” Without saying anything else he slammed the door shut on us. Yeah, total prick. So there we stood, in Thimble, one person down, but still pretty happy. Of course, once again, we were at the bar as Zayn got the shots in, and I could see it whirring in his mind which challenge he would think up for us this time, as Mike continued to yell in my ear so I could hear him. “... and I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate wine and everything it stands for, I just feel like whenever I have wine, it makes me sad on the inside.” “Right.” I groaned my reply. “All I’m saying, really, is that other drinks make me happy on the inside. Others make me numb on the inside. I’ve had to learn which ones do which in my few years of drinking. Happy drinks include beer, and cider. Sad drinks include wine, and vodka. NUMB drinks, include sambuca and whiskey.” “Right.” I said again. “There are some drinks, I’ve yet to establish what they do to me. Those include-” ”Okay, Mike, I think we’re done for the evening.” I smiled. He put his finger against his lips, realising he had been talking complete nonsense for the past five minutes, finally shutting the hell up. Harry rushed over to us from the bathroom, running his tongue over his gum a few times and then handing the tiny, clear bag over to Zayn, a small amount of white powder still left in the bottom. Zayn thanked him as the shots were all finally placed down in front of us, three each, as usual. I figured Zayn was spending the percentage of his student loan on shots. “Okay, so the challenge tonight goes like this.” Zayn began, shoving the bag into his pocket. “Ummm... Okay guys, I’m gunna be honest... I can’t think of anything.” “What happened to you?” Harry exhaled. “Well maybe we could just drink shots like normal people, for once. That can the challenge this time.” I smiled. “That’s a terrible challenge, Pippa.” Zayn grunted back. “Well that’s what we’re doing.” We all picked up the first shot, Zayn trailing behind a little bit, rolling his eyes and tutting and huffing and generally just being really disappointed in himself for not thinking up another bizarre way for us to drink our shots. I was actually quite happy. I was terrible with shots at the best of times, never mind with the rules Zayn thought up for us. Once the third shot was down, my head was swimming and my stomach churning, and I just knew I was due to throw up, because it hadn’t happened for a while, and it was me. ”Right, let’s go. I’ve got on my dancing shoes and I’m a sexy little swine.” Mike chirped. We wandered over to the dancefloor after picking up our pints, and I noticed Zayn tuck the little bag Harry had given him deeper into his pocket in the hope of not losing it, patting Harry on the back and then yelling into his ear, but I couldn’t quite make out what he had said. Whatever it was made Harry grin, a lot. Some chart song came on in the background and we danced for a few minutes, before Mike yelled, loud enough for all of us to hear. Mike was even louder than me! “Have you pulled anyone yet?” “What?” I quizzed. “To get over Louis?” He continued. “There’s a lad staring at your arse behind you, and I think he would be up for it.” Zayn and Harry glanced over my shoulder to see who Mike was talking about. I couldn’t help but spot the casual look on Zayn’s face compared to the angry, offended look on Harry’s as they stared at the boy I didn’t turn around to see. ”I’m already over Louis.” I told Mike. “I don’t need some perv to achieve that.” Suddenly that angry look on Harry’s face turned into a smug one, eyes low and one dimple digging into his face. I did feel like I was over Louis, too. I still thought he was pretty and everything, how could I not? And I was still furious with him for what he had done, so maybe I wasn’t entirely over it, but I definitely didn’t want him anymore. I guess I was also just happy I hadn’t seen him. If Louis was to walk into Thimble in that exact moment, I would definitely be running to the bar to down a drink and shaking and avoiding him like the plague. I felt that was a relatively normal reaction though. Mike grabbed one hand and we started dancing dramatically together, like ballroom dancing as he placed a hand on my shoulder and I put mine on his waist. We did a spin, and Mike looked at the boy who had been eyeing me up. “LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, PERV?” He yelled. I loved Mike. I really, really did. He was such an idiot, such a classic fool, but I would miss living with him so much, because Mike never failed to make me laugh. He was always funny, always witty and always on point. I would miss having him around all the time. It was almost like he was never in a bad mood, unless he was drunk and infatuated with a girl. Mike was sunshine, and I didn’t want to start living in the dark. Zayn and Harry were clutching at their stomachs as the boy stared at us all like we were total idiots, Mike still looking at him, my hand over my mouth as I tried to hide how funny I had found the whole thing. Harry was practically bent over. The mystery boy turned to face away from us with an alarmed look on his face, and after that we danced even harder, all of us even happier. But, as always, it wasn’t too long until Zayn needed a smoke, so we all followed him outside, Harry pulling out his own packet of cigarettes that he had purchased for the evening rather than stealing Zayn’s. We got outside and the two of them sparked up. Mike’s arm was around me but he was checking out a girl near the door. “Go talk to her!” I shoved. “She’s too good for me!” “No one is too good for you.” He gave me a peck on the forehead before going over to her. Once my concentration was back on the boys, I noticed Zayn rubbing the powder into his gums, his face twitching as he did. I stood watching, rather uncomfortable, not quite able to believe that was something I had done myself only a few nights previous. Harry smiled over my head, so I turned to see what had caught his eye, and saw two lads very openly kissing one another. That’s when I thought, maybe things I had seen in Harry previously, I had seen them for something they weren’t. If the situation still stood the way it did just over a week before, I would have said Harry was smirking at them, trying not to laugh at them, being a complete dick. But by then, I knew him so much better, I knew why seeing something like that would make him happy. Of course it would. I wondered what else I had misconstrued before. Zayn took a long drag on his cigarette once he was done rubbing his gums, closing his eyes, his shoulders shaking, and as always, it seemed what he had taken had hit him straight away. “How you feeling, man?” Harry smirked, again, as always. “Good man.” Zayn sighed out the words. “I wanna kiss someone. We need to find some girls, bro. I need girls.” “We can’t leave Pip on her own!” Harry replied. “Pip can be our wing-woman. Right, Pip?” I gulped hard, because the thought of seeing Harry with someone else was... weird. I didn’t know if it would upset me, anger me, or if I wouldn’t feel anything, but I didn’t want to experience it to find out. It still felt like I hadn’t quite washed the feel of his lips off me yet. I could still feel his hands and fingertips searching over my body, still feel his breath on my neck. I hadn’t been cleansed of the touch of him yet. I didn’t want that to belong to anyone else. Not quite yet. It was all still brand new to me. “I’m not a very good wing-woman.” I shrugged. “Why not?” Zayn scowled. “She’s too pretty. It’s intimidating.” Harry said confidently. I swear my stomach flipped, and I wanted to punch it just to stop it from ever doing that again over bloody Harry Styles saying I was pretty. Zayn darted his eyes between the two of us, brows low. “You two being nice to each other is messing with my head.” He cringed. “Call her ugly or something.” Harry’s head dropped down to the floor, another big smile on his face. But before we could say anything else on the matter, we were interrupted. I was glad of that, because I had no clue what to say back, but the interruption itself was not so good. “OI, FAGGOTS!” A lad stood near to Harry shouted. “NO ONE WANTS TO SEE THAT SHIT! QUIT IT!” My bottom jaw was on the fucking floor as I turned to the two boys we had seen kissing a few moments before, both of them having stopped what they were doing and looking at the idiot who had just shouted that at them. They both looked completely broken. I wanted to cry. Without looking his way, because I was still gazing with a heavy heart at the two boys, who were subconsciously distancing themselves, I heard Harry speak, his voice low and deathly. “Oi, mate...” I turned around, because I wanted to see what was going on. I wasn’t the only one, it seemed within seconds everyone in the smoking area had turned to look at Harry. “Fucking disgusting.” The random boy groaned to himself. “OI!” Harry moved his hand and clicked twice right in his face, making sure that there was no way he wouldn’t have his attention. The look on both their faces was one of fury. “What?” He spat. “You don’t fucking call them that.” Harry seethed. “What?” “You do not, fucking call them that.” “Are you serious, man?” The idiot scoffed. “Why the fuck do you care? You gay?” Harry moved so he was stood right ahead of him, towering over him. It was enough to make any boy tremble with fear, but whoever this guy was, he was putting up a good act, staring up to Harry and pretending he wasn’t intimidated. “So what if I was?” Harry shrugged, his whole body tense. “Look, man, whatever, just do it in your own time. I don’t want to come on a night out and see that. It’s awful.” “And I don’t want to come on a night out, and hear some arrogant, narrow-minded little fuck, preaching like he’s above everyone else.” Harry’s voice raised. Zayn grabbed at his arm, quietly asking him to leave it be and just back off, but that wasn’t in Harry’s nature. If anything, he took a step closer, his fists clenched by his side.The boy noticed, and shoved at his chest. “Back off, faggot!” He scorned. That was it for Harry. Without another word he swung, his fist in the boy’s face, knocking him out cold in zero seconds flat. It was just like the first time I had seen Harry fight. Basically, it wasn’t even a fight. Harry had swung and the other lad was on the floor completely lifeless before they even stood a chance. Harry cracked his neck and rolled his eyes, obviously completely done with the situation as he stormed back inside, leaving everyone looking at the body on the floor, all our throats tight and heads fucked. His mates were down at his side as soon as they were over the shock, and it didn’t take long for him to come back around, his nose bleeding as soon as he managed to sit upright, a bruise already appearing under his left eye. He was dazed and woozy, like he didn’t really know where he was, what had happened. We had all watched in silence as he came back to life, until I finally turned back to the boys who had been kissing, who were once again close to one another. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled. I wasn’t sure why I was apologising, really. I imagined they would have loved to whack him themselves, they just never would. Even though it felt silly giving them an apology, they didn’t dismiss it, they just looked twice as confused, trying to figure out something to say, but falling flat. “Fuck.” Zayn ran his hand through his hair. “Let’s just go and find Harry.” I tried not to laugh as Zayn stepped over the boys legs, barely acknowledging him as he did, and walking inside. Mike joined us as we went indoors. We split. Zayn searched the toilets, Mike looked by the bar, and I wandered round the dance-floor, trying my best to spot the tall boy in the crowd, but he couldn’t be found. We met by the front door, and we had all been unsuccessful in our search. “Let’s go back.” Mike sighed. + + + Mike and Zayn went into the kitchen as soon as we were home, and usually if that happened after a night out, it usually meant we would more than likely carrying on drinking. But this time was different. Harry having gotten into another fight, had once again, left a bitter taste in our mouths. Carrying on drinking wasn’t something we wanted to do. Out of the three fights I had seen Harry in, this one had clearly bothered me the least. I wasn’t angry or upset about what he had done, but it never perked anyone up, it never put anyone in a good mood. “Shall I go speak to him?” Zayn whispered to me. “I’ll go.” “You sure?” “Yeah. If he’s even here.” Zayn nodded, a very solemn look on his face as he squeezed my shoulder, Mike already falling asleep on the sofa. I knocked on Harry’s door, but heard no reply. I didn’t even know if he had come back, we had just been hoping he was there. I tugged on the handle, and it was unlocked. I cracked the door open, and the gentle sounds of ‘Gold Dust Woman’ played quietly, filling the room. Harry was on his bed, staring longingly at the ceiling. “Can I come in?” I mumbled. “I’m high as fuck, Pip-Squeak.” I took the lack of no, as a yes, stepping to his room and letting the door shut slowly behind me. I lingered next to it, not really sure if I should approach him, completely dumbfounded by what I should do or say. “Are you okay?” I asked worriedly. “I’m high. I hate just being in my room and doing nothing when I’m high.” “Well, you shouldn’t have left.” “I wasn’t going to stay there with him, was I? I either walk out or they kick me out. If I walk, at least I’ll be allowed in next time we’re out. Fucking hell, Pip-Squeak, just think!” He was snapping at me. Maybe it was a mix of things, the fight, the unfulfilling high he was experiencing... The fact it was me? I knew we had been getting on pretty well, but the fact of the matter still stood, that there had to be a lot of things about me that annoyed him. I looked down to the floor, trying to pretend I wasn’t bothered by Harry acting the way he had acted with me through most of our time knowing each other. “I-I just wanted to check that you were okay.” “I’m fine.” “That guy was a dick.” I spurted. “I know that, Pip-Squeak.” It wasn’t even worth the effort. His words were leaving his mouth and slipping into mine, then jamming right in my throat, making me feel like I was going to throw up or cry or something along those lines. “You’re miserable.” I sighed. “Goodnight, Harry.” He didn’t say anything else, so I just rolled my eyes and backed out again. Zayn was stood in the kitchen doorway just waiting for me, to see what had happened, what had been said. “So?” “Leave him.” I groaned. “He’s an arse. I’m going to bed.” The only good thing that had come from Harry punching that guy, was the fact that I no longer felt like this was the night I was going to throw up. I was past that stage, and thanks to Harry being such a dick, I was feeling soberer by the second. I waddled into my room before Zayn could say anything, getting undressed and getting into bed. I looked up to the ceiling, not really saying or thinking anything, just gazing, breathing. I guess the reason I wasn’t thinking was because I didn’t want to think. I would start reading into things too much, which was bad in most scenarios, never mind if I was drunk. I just wanted to sleep. I rolled onto my side and tucked the sheet up a little tighter, closing my eyes and deciding that it was a good idea for me to get some sleep. A little while earlier, I had heard Zayn and Mike retreat to their rooms, and I figured if I got to sleep then, there was a chance I could actually get up in time for my lecture. But before I could even begin my attempts, I heard some knocking. It confused me, immediately widening my eyes, glancing at the door even though I was sure that wasn’t where the knocking had come from. I shook it off. Just as I was about to close my eyes, it happened again, three gentles knocks. I knew then. They were coming from the wall blocking my rooms from Harry’s. Suddenly my breath was coming out in hot, fast beats, staring at the wall and just waiting to see if it happened again. Knock. Knock. Knock. They were so slow and drawn out, like he was crying out to me. I got out of bed steadily, my bare body shaking as I tiptoed towards the wall that blocked us from each other, and in the same kind of fashion, I knocked back. I leaned forward, letting my forehead press against the structure, taking a deep breath in, kind of endeared when I heard just the one knock back. After that, I couldn’t help myself; it was like I had this need to go into his room, to be with him, to just be around him and breathe him in and just... wallow in him. I really hated feeling that way, but sharing a bed with Harry had made me warm and comfortable for a good number of nights, more so than I had been for months. If I had the opportunity to feel that again, I wasn’t going to pass it up. I threw on some shorts and a crop top, quietly opening my door and checking the corridor up and down once to make sure it was empty before I ran from my room, speedily into his, locking the door behind myself. I turned to face his bed, and saw him there waiting, expecting me, shuffled to the far side of his bed, holding the sheet high so that I could clamber in next to him, a small, gorgeous smile on his face. I didn’t hesitate. Once we were tucked in, Harry wrapped his arm around me and made sure I moulded into his body, his chest wheezing against my back and his nose buried in my hair. “Sorry for being a dick.” He whispered. “I’m used to it.” I smirked. “Fuck you!” He chuckled, nipping my waist. Once again, it was just a case of falling asleep, nothing more. But we held one another so close we were practically the same person, our bodies enchanted and combined together, and it felt just as good as it had the night before. And the night before. And the night before...

#HAPPY READING #deleted two rude messages about updates today soooooo #be nice about it because I literally update all the fucking time #BB21 #1dff #Harry Styles

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