#he could possibly be thinking of ruby as well in the last one take ur pick .

[acandlesflame]

🌾

#rwby #rwby fanart #oscar pine #ozpin #penny polendina #freckles #do NOT let this kid find girl in red 😭😭🙏🙏 #he could possibly be thinking of ruby as well in the last one take ur pick . #i heart u oscar pine #i’m going to bring rt back only to double shut them down if oscar and oz merge #FREE MY BOY 🙏🙏🙏

[enthusiasticharry]

The Secrets You Keep

summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?

request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X

word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry! 

masterlist    |    asks

It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could. 

“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.” 

“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips. 

“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.” 

“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.” 

“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.” 

“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.” 

“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible. 

It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it. 

“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name. 

“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.” 

“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled. 

You certainly did. 

The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.

The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.

It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter. 

You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could. 

“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?” 

“Uh. . .” 

“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.” 

“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.” 

“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.” 

“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand. 

There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting. 

You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at. 

As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.

You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed. 

A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened. 

“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.” 

“Bye.” 

You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.

The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle. 

“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth. 

“Thank you.” 

You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this. 

“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly. 

You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.” 

“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.” 

“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.” 

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.” 

“Better not.” 

It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has. 

“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.” 

“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.” 

“Men are pigs.” 

“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.” 

“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”

Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it. 

“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?” 

“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.” 

“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.” 

“The businessmen not up too much?” 

“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.” 

You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.” 

“Totally.” She snorts. 

“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.” 

Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.

Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café. 

“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?” 

“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.

This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public. 

“How have you been?” 

“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?” 

“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.” 

“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.” 

“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.” 

“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.

“No complaints about that from me.” 

“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.” 

“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.” 

He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on. 

“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?” 

“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.” 

“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?” 

You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier. 

“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?” 

“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.” 

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.” 

You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.” 

“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.” 

The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised. 

Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you. 

“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.” 

“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?” 

“Uh. . . yeah.” 

“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.” 

You swear you felt your heart burst. 

During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh. 

Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating. 

Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well. 

Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you. 

In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks. 

Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you? 

You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that. 

I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do. 

In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself. 

You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people. 

If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes. 

You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.

I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you. 

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out. 

Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8? 

You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list. 

Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere? 

Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai? 

Italian sounds good. 

Great. I’ll send you details over. 

Thank you :) 

See you then, YN. Sweet dreams. 

Night, Harry. 

You slept well that night. 

“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.” 

You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it. 

“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.” 

“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.” 

“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.” 

He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.” 

“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.” 

“Yeah but—”

“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.” 

“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”

“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.” 

“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.” 

You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it. 

He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him. 

“Ruby will cover your shift.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!” 

“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.” 

“Anything. Well not anything.” 

“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.” 

“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record. 

He nods, “Just that.” 

You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” 

“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.” 

You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it. 

“Have fun at your thing Friday.” 

“Thank you. . .?” 

You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you. 

Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather. 

You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place. 

The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club. 

The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.

You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days. 

“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him. 

“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.” 

“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.” 

You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.” 

His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more. 

“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table. 

“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.” 

“Nervous for what?” 

“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous.” 

In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could. 

“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.” 

“You don’t really know me.” 

“I’d like to get to know you.” 

That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking. 

You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?” 

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.” 

“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.” 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” 

“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.” 

“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.” 

“I do.” 

You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to. 

He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much. 

“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.” 

He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.” 

“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”

“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.” 

“I know.” 

He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. 

You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.

“Want your words, darling.” 

“Please kiss me.”  

You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath. 

“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks. 

“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his. 

“Good.” 

You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips. 

You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.” 

“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.” 

“Okay.” You reach for the door handle. 

“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?” 

“I’d love to.” 

He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.” 

You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night. 

You couldn’t wait for him to return home. 

Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain. 

You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job. 

Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time. 

You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay. 

Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly. 

“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.” 

“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.” 

“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.” 

Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage. 

The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do. 

You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room. 

Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself. 

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite. 

He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight. 

You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more. 

“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.” 

“To get my hands on her.” 

Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him. 

“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked. 

“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.” 

“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.” 

“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.

Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts. 

Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin. 

If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.

You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that. 

You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances. 

“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.” 

You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.” 

He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.” 

“Really?” 

Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.” 

“Thanks.” 

He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped. 

You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate. 

You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly. 

Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either. 

“YN. . .” He sounded breathless. 

“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.” 

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.” 

“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over. 

“A Birthday party.” 

“Yours?” 

“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.” 

He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard. 

After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.” 

His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?” 

“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.” 

“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.” 

“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.” 

“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”

“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.” 

“Change my mind about what?” 

“Wanting too, you know. . .?” 

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.” 

“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye. 

“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.” 

“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.” 

“You don’t.” 

“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.” 

“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.” 

You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you. 

You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life. 

“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.” 

You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?” 

He hums, beaming a smile at you. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”

You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.” 

“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.” 

“Please.” 

“I’ll see you then.” 

You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him. 

Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips. 

“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his. 

“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?” 

“Upstairs.” 

You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going. 

Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed. 

The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so. 

Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers. 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. 

“What are you planning?” 

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?” 

He groans, “Anything at this point.”

You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?” 

“More than okay, baby.” 

You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances. 

You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail. 

“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could. 

Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling. 

“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.” 

“Good.” You giggle. 

He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more. 

“Fuck me.” 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch. 

He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear. 

“Is this okay?” 

“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material. 

He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm. 

“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.” 

He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so. 

“No fair.” You whine. 

“Life isn’t.” 

“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed. 

You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.

“Are you sure?” 

“More than okay.” 

He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound. 

“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.” 

“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.” 

He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. 

“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips. 

“Feel so good, H.” 

After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so. 

“Fuck, shit, oh god.” 

He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before. 

“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.” 

“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off. 

“You should keep secrets from me more often.’ 

“I’m never doing that again.” 

“Good.” He pecks your lips. 

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic

[thegeminisage]

I'm still not sure how they should have handled Sam's blood addiction, though I feel v strongly that locking him in a room and isolating him further wasn't ideal? But if they *didn't* do that, what *should* they have done? Even if they talked to him, what would they even say? What's your take on this?

sorry i’m going to answer your question but first i have something to get off my chest about season 4, which is that it’s STUPID (sorry sorry i know) 

fundamentally sam’s plotline of feeling different and unclean because of circumstances outside of his control is one of those that’s set up to be resolved in one of two ways: either he learns to accept his differences, and we’re happy about that because he found peace (think about your classic xmen character arc), or he cleanses himself, and we’re happy about that because he overcame his metaphorical demons and took his bodily autonomy back from outside forces (this one is more dodgy and has to be done carefully because it usually winds up with the healing of disabilities, like bobby’s legs or tony stark’s heart, but it’s possible to do it well i think if you’re not on supernatural). anyway supernatural did neither of things

the way s4 is set up, it was like, oh shit, sam is finally gonna take his curse and weaponize it against the people who cursed him! and that would have been COOL AS SHIT. (there’s a good s2 au about this here actually.) particularly because the angels (who are framed as bad guys/douchebags) kept telling him not to do it. it would have been sam battling not just dean’s mistrust but also his own faith, like, god doesn’t want me to do this - am i wrong or is god BAD??

and instead it’s like. lol sam ur so stupid. how could you POSSIBLY believe you can do good with this thing that is bad? and everyone tells him he’s being stupid and he’s like no i’m not! i’m being good! it doesn’t matter what you are it matters what you do! and then the narrative turned around and proved dean right and sam wrong which i’m sorry is soooo insulting. 

addiction takes AWAY your agency. after dean found out sam was drinking blood his anger all but evaporated and turned into resignation. he can’t be mad at sam because it’s not sam, it’s the drugs (or blood). there’s no getting through to someone in the throes of addiction unless they want to help themselves or you stage an intervention, which is what dean and bobby did. i’m not saying don’t give sam an addiction plotline because there was so much of it that RULED but don’t tie it in to his demon blood complex

so like to answer your question i certainly think they should have not locked him up and just talked to him and they could have found out the truth about the seals together and avoided the whole thing. but the narrative tells us that sam was an addict and that there was nothing dean could say or do to get through to him, WHCH IS STUPID!!! and that the breaking of the last seal was always going to be unavoidable. which less stupid. kind of sexy actually bc it sets up the s5 fight against destiny itself v well 

sam gets healed from his withdrawals by god at the start of season 5, and it’s implied in season 4 that the withdrawals can and will kill him, which means god sort of gave him and dean both a get-out-of-jail-free card. because otherwise dean would have been killing his little brother, right? EXCEPT IN THE FAMINE EPISODE* SAM GETS LOCKED IN THERE AGAIN TO DETOX AND HE’S TOTALLY FINE WITHOUT DIVINE INTERVENTION. so the narrative proves dean right AGAIN - that not only was locking sam up the correct thing to do, but that it WAS a survivable ordeal despite how scary it seemed and dean was ALSO correct in wanting to double down and keep sam in there even though bobby wanted to let him out

*interestingly, the reason there’s not a single MENTION of sam’s detox in the episode after the famine episode was that originally the airing order of those two episodes was swapped - sam’s detox was supposed to segue directly into the heaven ep. they switched them in order to air the famine episode closer to v-day. stupid.

in a better version of that arc, sam would have used his powers in season 4 and dean’s protests would have been about “demon blood is bad and ur stupid” AND “i’m worried you’re going to get yourself hurt.” we’d frame ruby as the bad guy for getting sam hooked on something that has fatal withdrawal symptoms and leaving out the little detail that his training could kill him, and maybe sam would be stuck resentfully doing her dirty work for a few episodes near the end - like dean and sam working for crowley in s6, but make it sexy and not written by sera gamble. 

i guess he’d still have to kill lilith though so maybe, just to play into inevitability, sam at the moment of truth (when ruby is urging him to kill lilith) chooses to turn his powers on ruby instead and lilith (because she and ruby are totally lovers and also because she wants sam to kill her) jumps in and takes the killing blow upon herself anyway. so it’s like still a well-meaning accident without spending the entire season calling sam stupid. idk.

sorry! this was a longer answer than u were expecting i bet. but i have a lot of bitterness about s4 on sam’s behalf lol. i’m not even a sam girl

[spn masterpost]

#liz answers asks #holisticfansstuff #liz watches spn #liz's spn stuff #liz's meta #long post

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

could u maybe... 🅱️erhaps... write a quick outline/blurb of what bartender!harry and mcs first date looks like??

Anonymous: Lol I can see bartender!Harry and yn on their first date and she’s lowkey hella nervous and sweet harry is trying how’s best to make her not and he cracks jokes like ‘angel you literally had my cock down ur throat last night, there’s no need to be nervous after that’ 😂😂

Harry would probably take her out to some place not too fancy because he knows she’s not the type to want him to flaunt his money— unlike some girls he’s dated in the past— but he wants it to be meaningful, so he decides on a small Cuban cafe run by a nice old geezer who Harry had met at the market when he was trying to pick out the best fresh fruits for the bar. They had bonded over running food-related businesses and Harry had visited the old man’s place a couple of times since.  

The elderly man serves them personally, openly praising Harry for picking such a “niña bonita— a lovely young lady” and sitting them on the top floor of the cabana style restaurant, out on the terrace so they can enjoy the sunset while they eat. 

Y/N’s a fidgety mess, rubbing the sweaty palms of her hands down the flowy material of her silk flared pants, her blouse sticking to her lower back and she feels like she’s going to pass out from a heat stroke despite the fact that the weather is cool and comfortable. 

Harry’s amused beyond compare, picking a chunk of fried plantain off his fork with his teeth and chewing slowly as he watches her fiddle with the pin in her hair, the corners of his lips twitching fondly at her anxiousness. “So are you gonna actually eat your fried yuca or just pet at your hair until it all falls out?”

Y/N’s hands drop to her lap, clasped together to keep them from wandering. She gives him a deadpanned scowl. “Shut up.”

Harry snorts in entertained disbelief, fixing his utensil at the rim of his dish and taking a leisurely sip of his passion fruit juice. Y/N watches his Adam’s Apple bob, neck flexing and jaw muscles ticking and she thinks he’s purposefully putting on a show to fuck with her.

He sets down the highball glass, running his tongue across his top teeth before speaking. “I just don’t get why you’re feeling like this.”

Harry props an elbow up onto the tablecloth, plopping his chin into his palm and tapping his fingers across his cheek thoughtfully. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Y/N huffs grandly, shoulders slumping slightly as she meets his comically confused gaze. “First dates are always stressful, Harry.”

He shrugs, somewhat in surrendered agreement, somewhat in knowing disapproval. “That’s true, I guess, but we already know each other pretty well as it is so there’s really nothing to fret over, is there?”

Y/N sighs swiftly through her nose at his suggestiveness, avoiding his glimmering eyes. “Yeah, but it’s just…well…”

Harry scoffs lightly, sitting back in his seat with his thighs parted wide under the table, posture relaxed. She can’t help but notice how good he looks in his sheer black button-up, which is strewn with holographic threads all throughout, sparkling hypnotically in the warm lighting. A simple black blazer hugs his strong shoulders over the fit, a pearl necklace sitting atop his delicate collarbones, the flouncy shirt unbuttoned down to the head of his butterfly tattoo, allowing the wings and beaks of the swallows to peek through. It freely shows off his toned chest, as well as the cross charm hanging off a fine silver chain around his neck. The hem of the elegant article is tucked into his dark denim skinny jeans, an expensive leather belt hugging his hips almost erotically and she can hear the tip of one of his heeled, blood red glossy boots tapping expectantly at the ceramic tiled floor. 

He looks beyond amazing— otherworldly, if Y/N’s being honest, and his flawless appearance and fluffy, lightly-gelled curls are only making it harder for her stomach to settle.

Harry reaches forward, setting his hand on the woven tablecloth and turning it palm upwards in a questioning manner. “Well…?”

Y/N releases another sharp sigh, this time through her lips. “It’s just hard to explain, alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes teasingly, ruby ring glinting in the last rays of the fading sunlight. “How is it hard?”

His focus then leaves Y/N’s face, doing a quick sweep of the surrounding seats to make sure no one can overheat them, lowering his voice down to a murmur just in case. “Angel, you literally had my cock down your throat about two nights ago. We can’t possibly get much closer than that so what’s there to be so nervous about?”

Y/N’s happy she had decided not to take a sip of her drink because she would’ve embarrassed herself, courtesy of his blunt, brazen words. 

Her whisper comes out harsh and panicked, the tip of her wedge heel making a sudden impact with his ankle. “Jesus, Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Harry yelps out in pained surprise, jumping in his seat and instinctively gripping his wounded leg, lips pouting in childish betrayal at her hit. “I’m just pointing out how illogical this is to help you loosen up! Fuck, that hurt!”

Y/N purses her lips together into a thin line, attempting to hide an evilly delighted grin as Harry cradles his knee in comfort, narrowing his eyes in realization at how much fun she’d had bullying him. 

“Gentlemen don’t mention oral at the dinner table.” 

“And ladies don’t send their date to the hospital before the dessert’s been served.” Harry bites back, though he’s having trouble hiding the goofy smile threatening to twist his dimples into place. 

“Guess we both have some learning to do, then.”

#drabble #bartender!harry

[amwritingmeta]

hey! i was just wondering if you think spn will actually make destiel canon by the finale? it seems like in interviews they're trying to let us down gently w/a cas death (which possibly makes it seem like cas's ending might be related to his empty deal?) + all the parallels between saileen and deancas, and it looks like dabb and co (while not rly bringing arcs into conclusion and generally making a mess of spn) are fighting to make it canon, i was wondering what ur take on it was, esp after ep09

Oh, my dear, my heart is swelling with love for those two right now. I just watched the show through from 12x19-15x13 and I swear, that moment they share in 15x12, clinking those glasses and sharing all those smiles was like balm. It’s not even five minutes of screen time, and still it was like, okay, yes, good, thank you for the room to breathe. :D

It seems to be that Cas hearing Dean’s prayer has ushered in some much earned peace between them. They’re shown to be on the same page and taking each other’s side unquestionably. Dean trusting Cas’ judgment regarding Jack without pause. And that’s a good word for it: there’s trust between them, mutual respect, understanding. It’s so lovely, isn’t it?

So, there’s this line that’s sort of stuck with me. Actually, there are two things that have stuck with me (apart from all the gorgeous symbology baked into every episode) and it’s that the word “complete” has been mentioned twice.

Once in reference to Mary in Heaven, and once by Amara in reference to God.

Then we have a line that’s recurred twice: I had to die to get what I want.

The fact that its spoken verbatim twice made my antennas perk up a bit. It may mean nothing, as some things in this narrative sometimes do mean nothing, but it’s still interesting to take these things into account: that we’re searching for completion and that sometimes, in order to get what you want, you have to die.

So. Will Cas die?

I don’t think so. I don’t think so for many reasons that I’ve laid out here (I just posted this) (it was like you read my mind that this was coming today), but foremost because I cannot see how him dying does anything for his character arc, or for his joint journey with Dean.

You know, dark!Kaia (Kaia’s Shadow) going back to the Bad Place (Kaia’s unconscious) and accepting the ending waiting there, releasing our!Kaia back to the world where she belongs, makes me think, more than ever, that the integration of the main character’s Shadows are a necessity. 

The Empty, way I see it, is representative of Cas’ Shadow, his unconscious, all the repressed and suppressed emotions of guilt, shame and doubt that has kept his self-worth down until Jack came on the scene. 

And this is just my reading of this situation, but I’m not sure I can see Cas defeating the Empty in the Empty, if you know what I mean? The last time Cas intruded, the Empty made him suffer greatly. I don’t think Cas holds any sway there, nor should he. 

To me, the weapon our conscious has against our unconscious ruling our decisions, is our ability to grow aware of our own impulses, our own thought patterns, and making choices to break away from them.

I think Cas can only beat the Empty through making a choice and, well, for a long time I’ve felt that choice should be to become human, because by making a final choice of who he is and who he wants to be, he brings himself into awareness, integrating his Shadow in the process, and narratively nullifying the Empty’s hold on him, since humans don’t go to the Empty when they die: they go to Heaven. 

But that’s wishing and hoping and speculation, of course.

Here’s where the Destiel question comes in though.

Do I believe they’ll make it canon?

Personally, I can’t think of anything more a part of our story than the love story between those two, but I know what you mean. You mean a representative, tangible, clear, statement type of making it canon. Textualising it, so that there’s no room for doubt whatsoever. No more arguments, no more queer baiting complaints, just Destiel in plain sight. Undeniable. 

I do and I don’t.

Watching these last few seasons through again made me realise what a different feel to them this last season has, because the emotional stakes for Dean and Cas have everything to do with what they mean to each other. Yeah?

Dean taking his anger out on Cas and it pushing Cas into a turning point where he chose to leave, to move on, which was a moment of clear independence a statement of his sense of self-worth, and it in turn pushing Dean into a turning point where he faced a side to himself that he’s needed to name since forever, admitting to not having any control of himself, which is something he has to acknowledge if he’s to move into trusting himself fully, all of this has been gosh darn breathtaking to get to witness.

And having them land back in this ease, where they work together seamlessly as a team, being kept together more than not, the framing of them, all of this makes me feel like they could give us canon Destiel. I’m not going to say they absolutely won’t. 

I believe the writers want it. I believe the actors want it. But, again, that’s just what I take from the narrative itself, because the subtext is stronger than ever this final season. 

Especially with Sam and Eileen being reunited.

Because it’s been that clear parallel you mentioned, but it’s been that clear parallel to those of us who see it. The echoes of the Saileen romance that trace through the Destiel progression won’t be as resounding to those that don’t.

And because of that, at this point, I also feel quite reserved with my belief that Destiel could become canon. Because there’s so much, but there’s also nothing. There’s so much for us to enjoy, there’s so much evidence they keep throwing at us that the writers support this reading of their story, but still, there’s nothing, really, to let on that they’re building towards these two men, at some point, declaring their love for each other.

There has been zero textual foreshadowing of that.

There have been throw away moments, like the cop flirting with Dean, for example, but he frowned at that, and then got sincerely flirted with by a woman, so that deescalated that very quickly. 

There was Dean at first rejecting Garth’s compliment of “You smell SO good”, becoming uncomfortable, to then, by the end of the ep, tell Garth he didn’t smell half-bad either.

And there was that amazing moment with Cas calling out Sam being “sexually intimate” with Ruby and Dean repeating the words as if he can’t believe Cas even knows how to pronounce them.

So, there’s... you know, stuff?

But it’s not foreshadowing if it can be overlooked by the wider audience.

That said.

This show isn’t about this love story of ours. The fact that it’s so downplayed could mean that what we’ll get is something textual, but extremely subtle. I mean, for me, lingering eye-contact and a shared smile in a context that makes us understand they’re choosing each other would be enough.

If, by canon, you mean do I think we’ll get them kissing, then the answer is I want to believe that we might get that, because they could build towards that on the foundation of ease and trust that they’ve put down over the last few episodes and they could build it effectively, but I just don’t know if the studio (who own the characters) is onboard. 

My hope is that they are, because the topic of healthy representation is so hot right now, and the question of the longevity of Supernatural to the younger generations (you know, you young ones who are proving exceedingly more open-minded and looking for something beyond the superficial brothers-hunting-monsters aspect of the show) would bank on the show opening itself up to the possibilities of solid representation already seeded throughout its run.

But Dean has flirted with more women than men this season. You know? I mean, he hasn’t flirted with any men. So. 

Look, I’m not going to say I don’t think we’ll get it, because I don’t know. 

I watched S15 yesterday and finished it today and suddenly I feel this wave of hope that it actually might happen, because they’ve already changed how Dean and Cas interact, they’ve given them so many scenes with just the two of them, and we have Sam clearly meant to end up with Eileen, and doesn’t Dean and Cas deserve that same happiness? That same sense of completion? That internal peace of loving unconditionally and being loved in return?

Sam and Eileen could be foreshadowing. These writers are subtle and they could be gleefully rubbing their hands together at the thought of springing textual Destiel on the GA, you know? The green light from the studio might make them diabolical. *sadism* And I love that thought.

Because that’s been the point of the love story for me, this slow, slow build to the moment when Dean and Cas have reached a point in their progression when what they’ll have together is a healthy, balanced, loving relationship because they’ve both let go of the past and are looking to the future.

But I won’t expect textual Destiel. If we do get it, I’m going to treasure it as a big cherry on top of an already perfectly inviting and exquisite pie.

What I do believe, more than ever, that we’re getting, though, is closure. Even if it’s only at the subtextual level, I believe that those of us who read the subtext will have Destiel verified beyond a shadow of a doubt. And yes, I will be quite surprised and disappointed if we don’t get that. Because of how these first 13 episodes have been shaped and how strong the subtext is in them.

I believe we’ll end on a hopeful note.

And wouldn’t that just be gratifyingly phenomenal?

(it really would) (honestly I just need to know that they are happy and alive and together and well and finding peace and carrying on) (you know?) (thank you and amen) :)

xx

#answered asks #spn s15 spec #cas #dean #destiel #deancas #canon #oh I have the hopes #just not the expectations #:)

[sugarcoated-eloquence]

Foreboding (Targets: Part 2)

A/N: Hello, hello! Welcome to the shitshow, aka my blog. This is part two of a potential 4/5 part series that I am co-writing with the lovely @sweetestrequiems. Click here for Part 1. Each chapter is focused on a different queen or issue related to the queens. This specific chapter is Catherine Parr centric, but the other queens are all very present. 

Please note the following ships are canon in this fic’s universe: Parrlyn, Aramour

{Trigger warnings: anxiety, mention of blood, slight violence}

I should also note some passages are written in German and Spanish and should be google searched to better comprehend the story. 

Taglist: @sweetestrequiems, @theatergirl06, @silverpetals97, @six-fragile-dreams, @patdfobmcr-yt, @frogs-in-clogs, @mindless-pidgeon

Other than that..... enjoy! Below the cut.

It would not stop.

The constant feeling like something would go wrong.

Katherine Howard could not tell if it was the anxiety, or if it was something else. She physically felt okay, and everything seemed fine, but for the life of her, the girl could not put her finger on that bad feeling. Being so lost in her thoughts, Howard was found, brows furrowed, staring down at her food, rather than eating it. Of course, this raised concerns with her cousin, Anne Boleyn, and Jane Seymour. Boleyn’s face began to reflect the concern when she raised an eyebrow. Seymour had more of a sad-looking face, but nonetheless, the worry was quite present.

“Katherine?”

“Hey, Kitty… you okay?”

The two voices snapped Howard out of her trance. She looked up, shaking her head seconds after her attention went to the two women. “Yeah, yeah! Just had something come across my mind is all. I’m fine, really. Guess I’m just getting the typical pre-show jitters everyone gets,” which wasn’t a lie, either. But, Katherine did feel a pang of guilt in having to be dishonest with Jane and Anne. Howard was one of the Queens who always got some pre-show anxiety, alongside Catherine of Aragon– (much to everyone’s surprise)– and Boleyn. It wasn’t a rare occasion, though, considering they had just about an hour before they had to head to the theatre. It wouldn’t seem like much now, but this feeling Katherine Howard was having was not a good one.

––––––––––

During the matinee, Katherine could not shake off that constant thought.

But she was not alone. The feeling had begun to haunt her cousin Anne.

Anne Boleyn’s eyes began to glance around the audience, knowing that Katherine was in the middle of delivering the roast of the century to Jane, Catherine Parr, and Anna of Cleves. A certain man had caught her eye up in the upper level; the second row in the left Circle Slip of the Arts Theatre, to be more precise. Something about that blond hair. And cold, blue eyes. Something about the way he was leaning on the railing while he sat began to bother Anne. Her attention snapped right back to the show when she heard Katherine say, “I can’t even begin to think of how I could compete with you all. Oh wait, like this!” to signal the start of All You Wanna Do. But even with her focus on the show, Boleyn’s glances kept going back up to that strange man.

“I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes!”

What about him bothered Anne Boleyn so much? She did not know. 

Was it his face? No, he seemed to be fairly attractive. Was it the way he stared at all of them? Possibly, since he seemed to be rather uncomfortable when Aragon brought up Leviticus and Mary in No Way. He also looked disgusted during Boleyn’s spotlight in Don’t Lose Ur Head. He looked very, very abhorred with Haus of Holbein and Anna of Cleves. But his eyes when Katherine Howard was singing screamed danger, and Anne could see it. Her frequent glancing that first day saw him tense up upon a few lines:

“Tall, large, Henry the Eighth. 

Supreme Head of the Church of England. 

Globally revered, although you wouldn’t know it from the look of that beard.”

And the end of All You Wanna Do, as far as Anne could tell from where she was on the stage, had him gripping the railing tightly. Was anger the reason he furrowed his eyebrows, or something else? The distance was not helping her much. Overall, she was picking up a few assumptions just from the one matinee show. This guy was either a historian that pretty much agreed with Henry VIII’s horrible decisions in life, or someone the Queens knew personally. What Anne decided to think though, was the former. Maybe this guy was just a historian and unimpressed with the show, right?

That first show could have not ended sooner. But as the lights on the stage went somewhat dim to allow the six ladies to exit, Anne Boleyn paused and allowed the others to go in front of her. She kept her gaze on that very man, and watched him stand up, turn around, and head on out of the seating area. The fact that she was the last one to leave concerned Cleves a bit. Right before she could even reach the dressing room, the queen in red put a hand on the green queen’s shoulder. “Moment mal, Anne. Was stört dich? Du hast anscheinend nicht dein gewohntes Lächeln am Ende der Show gehabt,” the German gently gave the shoulder a squeeze. Boleyn found herself sighing. “What’s going on? You normally smile and you were barely holding one up today by the end of the show,” Cleves made herself translate what she had previously said. 

“I don’t know, honestly. I guess I thought I saw someone that Maggie knew in the audience. It was weird. I’m normally not out of it either. Anyways, if Aragon took the couch, she’s going to regret it. It’s my nap time,” the cheeky grin came back to the ruby lips. A nod from Cleves, and the two were well on their way to the dressing room. Was Aragon on the couch? Absolutely. And Anne 100% kicked her off of it just so she could lay down and sleep after she changed back into her comfortable clothes. No space buns, no makeup– just a giant hoodie and some sweatpants. 

––––––––––

The other dressing room was a little more lively for a good while.

Katherine Howard was up on her feet, bouncing around with energy. Catherine Parr had decided to join her this afternoon. What were the two doing while Jane Seymour took the time to answer some tweets and messages? Dancing. The two ladies were dancing, which was almost the catalyst for Jane setting her phone down and joining them. In fact, she just wanted in on the fun. The three danced around for maybe half an hour, before a yawning Katherine Howard took to the couch to take a nap herself. Parr and Seymour stayed awake, with Parr looking for her notebook and Seymour going back to the tweets and messages.

“Cathy, look at this,” tapping her counterpart on the shoulder, the blonde woman moved her phone to be between them both. “It’s us with our kids!” If there was one thing Jane Seymour loved about the fans they had, it was all of the fanart of them with their kids. A smile was brought to Catherine Parr’s face as she looked up to meet Jane’s eyes. “If there’s one thing I have always appreciated, it’s that they know we aren’t the only Tudors that kicked some serious ass.” The laugh both of them shared was quiet, as to not wake Katherine up from her post-show nap. 

The calligraphy pen twirled around Parr’s fingers for a solid minute or so before she finally began to write. Each queen had their thing to do post-matinee if it was a two-show day.

Catherine Parr wrote notes about her performances.

Jane Seymour responded to fans. And to as many of them as possible, too!

Both of the Beheaded Cousins slept their time away.

Anna of Cleves did various things, such as meditate and listen to music.

Catherine of Aragon normally left the dressing room to find a quiet spot in the theatre’s backstage to pray.

This normal routine was going to be shaken up a little too much. So much that Boleyn and Howard were too tense to take their usual between show naps.

––––––––––

The same seat every damn time.

Who the hell was this guy?

And why was he now looking so bitter towards Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard?

Three weeks since the mystery man had first caught Boleyn’s eyes in the middle of a performance. But now it was a pattern. Two night shows and a matinee, and always on the exact same nights. Exact same seat, exact same everything. This was starting to piss Boleyn off, and scare Howard. He looked at them with more than just malicious intent in his eyes, to the point that Katherine sometimes blanked on her lines. It was to the point when Anne was singing, she’d put more emphasis on “Hold up, let me tell you how it went down.” just to spite him. This historian guy, or whoever he truly was, did not settle well with the cousins.

But on the night of a Sunday performance, the Queens all got a rude awakening they were not ready for. And the two to be given the first wave were none other than the Beheaded Cousins themselves:

Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard.

––––––––––

This tension was so chilling that it even caused Anne to fumble a few of her lines. Even the infamous “Yeah, I read.” was not the usual confident, snarky remark it usually was. Having made eye contact with the mystery man while trying to deliver the line was definitely part of it, and for a moment there was a stiff awkwardness in the air. They’d recover quickly, of course, but the general consensus between the group was that something was wrong, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

The man quickly left, before the end of bows, and somehow located an usher and told him he was an old friend of the girls’. The girls weren’t too akin to refusing to meet people, so immediately after stagedooring and meeting fans, they all headed backstage to meet whoever had requested a personal meet and greet. Kit’s the first through the door and she stops dead in her tracks. Those eyes. They were the same bright blue eyes that she saw in her dreams at night, the same eyes she stared into right before… well… 

She swallows, backing up a little. Anne comes crashing through the door, chaos embodied, and happily dances around for a moment before noticing the anxiety seething from Howard’s small frame. “What’s wrong, love?” Kit simply points to the man, and Anne’s heart drops to her stomach as well. She too, can’t look away from those crystal eyes. The blond hair. The everything. 

Anne can barely talk above a whisper could even tell it was him would make the situation less real. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe he was just another person. One can hope, but no luck there, Anne. She can feel Kit shaking, and reaches to take her hand, letting out a shaky breath and considering shouting for Parr. 

The others trickle in quickly after, the ‘mystery man’ still just staring at the two cousins with ferocious intensity. The last to enter, though, is Jane Seymour. The metaphorical mother of the group, the caretaker, any other synonym you can think of. Jane is never one to cast judgement. She walks in, and despite the obvious tension, says a polite hello to the man. He simply nods in response. 

Parr joins Anne at the hip, whispering to her. “Is he what’s got you all rattled, love?” Anne lets out a small nod. “It’s him.” 

That statement reaches Jane’s ears and immediately her demeanor changes. She stands up a little straighter, setting her microphone down on the dressing room’s main table, and just looks at him. She moves a little closer, pushing the other girls behind her, and she can only say one thing. 

“...Henry?”

He steps forward, and while the other girls move back, Jane stays planted to her spot. He smiles, trying to turn on the charm, reaching for her hands. “The one I truly lov—” He’s cut off by a slap. Yes, Jane Seymour just slapped a man. He brings a hand up to his red cheek, eye showing that it indeed, hurt. Cleves stifles a laugh.

“Don’t ever associate that word with me. You don’t know what love is.” A few tears well up in the blonde’s eyes, but refuses to let them fall. Not for him. “Love isn’t keeping your wife from holding her newborn child!” Her voice breaks slightly, but she takes a deep breath, centering herself. 

“You all look so different.” The scruffy voice chimes, and immediately Kit visibly tenses up. She, unlike Jane, is unable to hold the tears in. Though they flow silently, they flow heavily. “There’s no need to cry, Katherine… or should I say ‘Kitty’, now?” 

“Don’t speak to her. You do not have permission to do that.” Jane moves to block his view, but he simply repositions himself. Anne elects to go in for a dig. The devilish smirk returns, though small, and she gives Kit’s hand a squeeze before moving a tiny step forward. 

“You know, mate, if you’re still having trouble… you know, with your little friend, we can get you a prescription for Viagra. Or Cialis, plenty of options.” She emphasizes ‘little’ by using her thumb and pointer finger to indicate his size. It makes Kit smile a little. The silence in the air was broken by a stifled laughter. That had to be the funniest thing Cleves ever heard Boleyn say outside of the wit written in the script. Aragon gave her a nudge, but even she agreed with the sentiment.

The blond man, finally revealed as the reincarnated Henry VIII, just narrowed his eyes. “How funny, laughter coming from someone who couldn’t perform.” Anne’s smirk went away, as she looked back towards Cleves with a hurt expression. Cleves’ grin was gone, with gritted teeth behind a closed mouth replacing it. Aragon let out a sigh. “That’s low for the man who so easily says he believes–”

“Catalina, don’t even get me started on you either.”

Not a single comment from Catherine Parr. She just stood there, feeling herself drift between a rational mind and pure impulse. Did this guy just come back to insult them, and get a second wind to take Katherine? Oh no, that was not happening. She saw it all, too. Jane’s reddening face from holding back the tears, Cleves’ rather tame anger, Aragon’s scowl… Kit’s pale face from the fear, and Anne being powerless. Jane Seymour honestly, had lost her mind way before Catherine Parr did in this scenario, but… there was always going to be a breaking point for the quiet one.

“So you and your whore cousin think you can just slander my name like that? I’d have you both back at the scaffold in front of the Tower if I had–”

“Scaffolds don’t exist anymore, you twat,” Boleyn hissed under her breath. 

“Enough, Henry.”

This was where Parr had enough. The other Queens gave a glance at their surviving counterpart, who wasn’t even looking up at him. She was staring at the floor, but for now. “Cathy, you should probably not… y’know, say anything,” Boleyn barely managed to get that sentence out, considering the crushing feeling she had inside of her chest. All that got as a response was a laugh.

“The survivor, Catherine Parr. Tell me then, my love, are you just as stubborn as you were back then?” He got every other one to crack, but little did he know that he would be the one about to shatter like glass. “Because you should’ve been the one to meet an untimely fate like your counterparts here. Of course, new body means a second chance at being able to–”

Henry stops when he sees Parr’s shoulders shake a little. She’s… laughing?

That’s why she was looking down. When she did look up, one saw her smile shining on like a light. Safe to say, Catherine Parr was about to tear someone apart. “You’ve still got quite a loud mouth for an old man. Tell me, did you ever finally learn to take care of yourself, you bobolyne? Thinking you have any right to talk to the mother of not only your damned son, but also the woman who was loyal to you for twenty four years?! And even better, the one you so graciously called your sister after your marriage? You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

Jane felt a little insulted that she had to take a jab at Edward, but had the feeling it was necessary considering the situation. Hopefully Parr would apologize for it later on.

“Okay, okay… fair. Not bad, Parr. But why do those two get to wear shiny chokers while the rest of you have crowns? Does it further emphasize my point that Anne Boleyn’s just a hell of a tempting woman and that Katherine Howard–”

The smile from Parr’s face faded. The anger was present and everyone was mortified to see someone so quiet speaking up like she was. With vitriol in her voice, Catherine Parr officially lost her temper. 

“You KNOW exactly what the fuck happened, Henry.”

Aragon felt herself go to cover Katherine’s ears as her goddaughter began to lose her composure. “You KNOW why they have to wear those. You know damn well the crimes you fucking committed against them both, especially Katherine! She was a child, Henry! A fucking child who got manipulated and used! I want to hear nothing from your mouth, you snoutband! You have nothing to defend yourself with!”

Wiping a tear or two away, Jane Seymour began to lean into Anna of Cleves for some form of comfort. Even the German was surprised to be hearing the resentment coming out of such a powerful and rather cool-tempered woman. Just as Henry went to open his mouth, he stopped.

“Oh no, no sir! You have no right to talk here! Anne Boleyn lost her head over what, your delusions that she was out and about with men when you were just going around like you weren’t married? And because of that, she has to struggle to change her name? Are you actually insane or some shit?” The northern accent Parr had was thick. She was angry, and her voice said it for her if her facial expression did not. “Jane Seymour never got to hold Edward because you took him straight away for his christening. And she had to sit there, alone, in bed! Suffering through illness until she died without saying goodbye to her baby boy!”

Boleyn goes pale. Where did this anger even come from? She had no idea, but Parr was scaring her.

“My damn godmother was near a saint with all of the bullshit she had to put up with! Twenty four fucking years, and it wasn’t Anne who ruined the marriage. It was YOU. Aragon did some insanely remarkable things despite how you treated her! And Cleves! You just decide to take Cleves and humiliate her because she wasn’t beautiful enough for you? You’re an absolute wandought, Henry! You brought a Spanish lady and a German lady out of their comfort zones all because you didn’t know how to use your damn brain!”

At this point, Aragon had managed to sneak off into the dressing room, with Cleves now being the one to hold Howard. Boleyn was now hugging Seymour, actually terrified of not just Henry, but Parr.

Henry began to go pale. He was not going to recover from this.

“Who am I missing… let’s see, Katherine Howard? No, I got her. Anne Boleyn? Also got her. Jane Seymour? Check. Anna of Cleves? Check. Catherine of Aragon? Oh, yeah, her too. Would you look at that… I’m the only one left. Surprise surprise, the fucking survivor surviving again and this time, she gets to give it to you the exact way she wants to.”

“Cathy–”

“Shut up you lot. My turn to finally talk.”

A flinch from the group. Aragon had to take glances in and out of the dressing room.

“Oh wow, Catherine Parr. The survivor. The one who draws lines in arbitrary places, blah blah! She had two other husbands, what good could have she done being a Tudor queen? I DIDN’T TAKE ANY OF YOUR BULLSHIT IS WHAT I DID. Those books that everyone rumoured a woman was writing? Surprise, you tallowcatch! It was me! I’m the famed author of Tudor history. And I published under my own name once your pitiful body finally died. That can’t be that bad, Cathy. What a sad excuse for a sob story, right?”

Katherine Howard began to tremble more than she already was in Anna of Cleves’ arms. Catherine Parr made herself stand face to face with Henry.

“Ah, right, because she survived she deserves the backing vocals. WELL GUESS WHAT, HENRY? I’M HERE TO STAY. I HAD TO GIVE UP MY LIFE, MY LOVE, AND WHATEVER ELSE I WAS DOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR SORRY ASS. You might have forced these women into submission but no, I am not going to submit to some sad old man. You took away their rights, you took away their children… and poor Katherine…” A laugh. “You took poor Katherine’s childhood. You turned her into a disgraced whore. She is not and will never be one. She is a victim of your bullshit.”

“Catherine, my love–”

“No excuses now, Henry. I’m through. Your love ran cold years ago. And call me love one more damn time. See what happens.”

“My love–”

The weight of the sleeves helped Parr send her fist flying into his face. He stumbled back, feeling a warm sensation drip from his nose. Blood. He… was bleeding? “You actually got the nerve to punch an English King? You’re a mad woman, Parr. I’ll have you thrown on that scaffold just how–” A second punch, and this time, there was an audible crack of sorts.

“You wear a crown, but you’re no king. You’re a disgrace to human life, Henry. And this is for all of the women you hurt, manipulated, abused… and killed,” a lunge forward. The third strike was to his jaw, and the fourth was a solid kick to the chest with her heel being the first thing to make impact. Henry, having been taken by surprise from every hit, stumbled right back into a pair of men. Shaking her fist off, some of the blood ended up getting on the floor, and part of it remained on her hands. 

“I’ll be back, Catherine! Mark my damn words! Let go of me, you imbeciles!”

“Like hell you’ll be back!”

And just as she took a step forward, Aragon went to hold on to one of her arms. “Someone help me hold her back!” Aragon needed the help. Parr was under such a fit of rage she was dragging her godmother across the hallway. Seymour had to let go of Boleyn to try and hold on to Parr’s other arm. She slowed down, but still had enough adrenaline surging through her to keep going. Cleves just gave Howard a gentle kiss on the cheek before running over to help the other two ladies. No arms? No problem. She just held on to one of Parr’s legs.

Boleyn pulled her cousin into a tight hug, feeling a shaky exhale leave her body. “Kitty? Kitty, are you okay?” Just a nod. Howard was terrified to open her mouth after seeing the ungodly wrath unfold before her eyes. “I-Is… she mad at us, Annie?” Quiet and almost inaudible. The poor girl was terrified to even talk out of fear that Parr was not just angry at Henry, but at them too.

“Catherine Parr, what in God’s name has gotten into you?” Aragon furrows her eyebrows. “This is not you. What is going on? Talk to me, please.”

Anne reaches to take Kit’s hand. “She’s… upset. Not at us, I promise.” Anne had to admit, all of the ferocity coming from Parr scared her a little bit. The yelling reminded her a little of when Henry first stormed in and accused her. Of course, she would set it aside, but it was scary in the moment. She looks in Kit’s eyes, which are now full of tears, sighing and pulling her into another tight hug and rubbing her back. “It’s okay, babes… He’s gonna go away and we will be okay, I promise. The girls aren’t gonna let him get to us.” Kit just buries her face into Anne’s shoulder and lets out the remainder of what she wouldn’t let out in front of Henry. Thank goodness the men had taken him into another room until the police arrived. 

Anne pulls out of the hug for a moment and then walks Kit outside. “You look absolutely knackered, love… maybe we should head home as soon as all of this is over. Do you wanna change into something else? C’mon.” They both decide to change, but do so in the staff bathroom rather than in the dressing room. On the off chance Henry was able to see into the dressing room, they didn’t want him to see anything. Anne also thought a door with a lock was the safest. 

Once they finish hanging up their costumes, the two settle into the couch, and just hold each other. Anne hums a little of La Vie en Rose, and quickly, Kit falls asleep. Anne doesn’t mind. They were all done with the day, it had already put them through the ringer. 

There’s an apparent veil of exhaustion amongst all of the women, except Parr.

Sure, Henry had been apprehended at this point and he was stuck with his hands cuffed behind his back, but that didn’t stop him from being inches away from Parr’s face with a very devious smile. “I’ll be back, Catherine. And you six will have to deal with me all over again. Especially Kat–”

“Like hell you are!”

Catherine Parr broke her left arm free from Catherine of Aragon’s grip, and her right arm from Jane Seymour’s. The right hand took a vice-like grip on his shirt collar before her left fist came swinging at full power, and thensome since the weight of the costume added force. That impact had a very, very nasty sound to it. Even Cleves flinched at it, soon seeing the blond man fall straight to the floor with a bloody face. “Get anywhere near us and I will have you laying your head on a prison bench just how you made poor Katherine and Anne lay down as you murdered them!”

The officers picked up the unconscious Henry, and kindly thanked Jane, Anna, and Aragon for their cooperation. Parr however, got a warning, but that was about it.

Giving it a moment, knowing they would be out of earshot at this point, Parr releases a rather annoyed grumble. “He’ll fucking pay for his crimes against all of you. I swear on my life he will rot in a prison cell for what he did. If he thinks he can just show up out of nowhere and come back here to take us for fools, he’s wrong,” she almost hissed at the end. The thickness of her accent was making Aragon concerned, since to see someone as rational as her goddaughter be in such a state was a rare experience. Cleves and Seymour both looked up with mortified faces. Ever seen revenge personified as human? No? Now you have.

And her name was Catherine Parr.

“What in heaven was that?” Maggie asks, getting up and peeking out into the hallway. A small laugh. The thud was actually loud enough to wake the cousins, and they both get up, confused a little, and sleepily walk to join her at the door frame. Anne rubs her eyes and yawns, looking at Henry, now being pulled up by two police men. 

She glances to Parr, and then to Henry, and upon sight of Parr’s hands, she lets out a small, startled gasp. His blood was actually on her knuckles. Probably mixed with her own, if her knuckles had bust. Kit has a similar reaction, coupled with hiding behind Anne at the sight of the wicked man. “Cathy… let me help you get cleaned up. Mags, can you grab the first aid kit out of my backpack?” 

“Let’s just go home, first.” Parr says, a little cold, while watching an officer take Henry away. She wanted to watch up until he was inside of the car, so she could ensure he was going away for good. The other officer asks her a few questions about the situation, and she tells him everything that happened, down to the fact that they would be filing a restraining order, and that Henry was not allowed to see their show again. 

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The six women had gone home after waiting… maybe an extra ten minutes after Parr finished talking to the police officer. The car was dead silent on the ride back to the house, too.

“I’m actually mad about the fact that he’s actually attractive now,” Boleyn rolls her eyes as she walks in after Seymour. “I’m kidding, obvs. But how is he alive? We’ve been free for… who knows how long now and he comes back? What did he want, anyways?” Seymour turned to face Boleyn, giving the brunette a gentle pat on the head. “It sounded like revenge, but I think Cathy has the actual answer to that. We can talk to her when she’s a lot calmer, though… she’s very…”

“Upset, angry… name it, I am probably feeling it.”

“We all are, love…” Anne goes to her, gently taking her hands, looking at them carefully. One’s very busted up, and the blood has now dried and solidified. “Let me clean you up, c’mon.” She motions to the kitchen, and the two head in there, Parr sitting on the counter while Anne gets the first aid kit out. “I’m not ashamed of what I did today.” Parr stares at the floor, expecting some sort of lecture or argument to happen, but it doesn’t.

“You protected me. That’s all I could ever want.” Anne kisses her quickly on the cheek before pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a gauze cloth. Before she starts to press it to Cathy’s knuckles, she looks the girl straight in the eyes. “Don’t be mad for how much this is going to hurt, please.” 

While those two work on that, the other girls drop their bags next to the door and slump into the chairs around the kitchen table, an apparent awkwardness in the air. Jane is the first to speak, and it’s absolutely filled with regret and apology. “Ladies, I am so sorry I lost my cool today. I shouldn’t have gotten so ‘up in arms.’ He just… I never…” She’s tearing up a little, and Kit offers a hand for her to squeeze as she tries to work through her words. She takes a deep breath, brushing some of her blonde hair out of her face. 

“I never got to tell him all of that. All of the resentment.”

Cathy grumbles from the counter, agreeing with her statement. “He sure got a taste of all of my resentment.” Her cheeks were reddening, and Anne doesn’t know what else to do past wrapping the girl’s knuckles, so she lays a kiss on them, hoping that will calm her down. “Shhh… no need to get worked up over that toff, not again.” Her hand goes to hold Parr’s face. “Let’s be happy, okay?” 

“Jane, we all had every right to react the way we did. Even Cathy had a right to bash his ugly face in.” Kit nods reassuringly, and the other queens mumble words of agreement, Anne and Parr silently making their way over to the table. Something about Parr’s energy was off, but the queens wouldn’t question it for the time being. They were all rattled, it didn’t take much to see it. 

“I just feel that as the mother of the group, I reacted rather rashly. I think–” She has to hold back some tears. “I think I should’ve composed myself.” This ends with the ladies all essentially tackling Jane with a group hug, even Parr, though not really seeming to want to participate. It was getting late, anyways, and it was almost time for her to begin her nightly writing. It would help.  

Anne clears her throat. “I think you did perfectly, Jane. He’s an absolute tosser for thinking he could face all six of us at once.” Kit laughs in agreement, and the two head upstairs. Parr quickly dismisses herself, Aragon trailing quickly behind after giving Jane a tight hug. 

Cleves takes Jane’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Gute Nacht, Jane. Versuche nicht zu viel darüber nachzudenken.” Jane sighs. “Still don’t speak German, love.”

“Try not to think too much about it.”

“Catherine,” Aragon knocks on the open door, furrowing her eyebrows. “Mija, what got into you today? That isn’t you. Where… where did you even go?” A sharp look from the sixth wife to the first, before it softened up. It eventually became more of a look of shame as Parr’s eyes went to the bandaged hand. She really did do a number on herself, but that blond haired Tudor nightmare deserved it. She wasn’t wrong, was she? Or, had her morality become such an ambiguous grey area that maybe it was wrong for her to have sucker punched the man who beheaded Katherine Howard so unfairly.

The shameful eyes look up, seeing Aragon’s concern despite the slight scowl. “I’m sorry, Lina. I… no se. Yo lo vi y... Me congelé. Es como si todo el sentido racional dejara mi cuerpo y me quedara con impulso. Lo juro, no... siempre así. Tu lo sabes! Aunque asusté a todos, no?” The hurt in her voice was evident. Parr knew she became the morally ambiguous of the group, which was normally not the good thing. Aragon’s expression lightened up just a little as she approached her goddaughter, and pulled her into a side hug. “Sucede, amor. Pero no te enfades tanto con alguien tan horrible. Seguimos amándote, y siempre nos preocuparemos por ti. Ninguna de nosotras te tiene miedo, y eso te lo prometo.”

Those last words gave Catherine Parr just a little bit of hope. Catherine of Aragon gave one last hug to the woman before heading on out the door, but not without “Don’t stay up late.” being the last thing she said to the sixth wife. 

Kit and Anne stand in the hallway, chatting before going to their rooms, which were across from each other. “Lock your window, Annie, please.” It’s evident that Kit is still very worried about Henry figuring out where they live or figuring out how to get in. Anne nods, despite the fact that they lived on the second floor.. “Of course.” The girls hug and in a matter of seconds, they are both behind their respective closed doors. 

Kit leans against the door for a moment after closing it, but not locking it, and a few silent tears fall before she starts to change into her pajamas. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” She mumbles to herself, turning on her string lights and turning off the main light of the room. She debates what kind of music to listen to, mulling over it for a few minutes before turning on some classical. It was different, but it would work. 

Anne, on the other hand, immediately goes to lock her window and pull the shades closed, which was slightly saddening because she did enjoy looking at the night sky before she fell asleep. She sits on the edge of her bed for a moment, deep in thought about Cathy. She had to admit, the girl she saw today was one she had never seen before, and one she was pretty afraid of seeing again. That fire, while endearing… shook Anne a little. She has to force herself to shake off the thought that anger immediately translates to a person being anything remotely similar to Henry. 

“Right, then… bed it is.” Anne shuts off her lights and lays down, picturing that starry sky in her own mind. It would do. 

Jane settles in with the current book she was reading, a copy of Pride and Prejudice. A story of true love, one could say, and the text was actually helping to calm the blonde down about the events of the day. Aragon peeks in for a moment, and Jane gives her a soft smile, an unspoken agreement that they would be okay.

Though it seemed as if everyone was settling down, Catherine Parr had a storm bigger than a hurricane brewing inside. 

––––––––––

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Catherine Parr let that be the only sound to fill the silence. Normally, it would be music or something, but not tonight.

The calligraphy pen in her hands danced around her fingers, barely having touched the pages of the open notebook. Her vision was still blurred, much to her own surprise. Wrath was a powerful thing, and to have something take over the body for an amount of time would lead to consequences later in the night. In her case, it was a very horrid case of insomnia. While she dealt with insomnia most nights, she had the slightest feeling this was not the typical time to go to bed at 2 in the morning case. The pen began to slow down in her hand, and she held it still for the first time that whole night.

“It’s not the first time you write about how you feel, Cathy. It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine.”

It was not fine.

No matter how many times she told herself it would be fine, she could never believe it. Catherine Parr saw her hand shake, just the slightest, every time she wrote. Every memory from the last few hours was hazy, but simultaneously at the forefront of her mind. The usually clean lines of her penmanship were just the bit off from the feelings. Word after word, the anger began to flow onto the pages like water flowing down a river’s stream. So shaky, and so violent were the movements of Parr’s wrist. In comparison to the surprisingly smooth transition from thought to thought, her actions made her look a little crazed. One could even say she looked oddly desperate to finish writing.

Almost as if she was running out of time.

She was a writer in her past life. An author, really. The woman wrote books, psalms, meditations… name it, she probably has a manuscript of it somewhere. But this? This was not her. This frantic drive to write and write until the pages could take no more and the ink began to go through them was not Catherine Parr. In a way, it was almost symbolic. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

There it was again. The ticking of the clock.

Time was no longer a relevant thing for Parr. She just let the time go on.

Last she could remember, it was midnight. But nay, the clock spoke otherwise. A glance at it revealed it to be four in the morning. Her hand and wrist were cramped up, and the tears that she felt falling were drying on her face. The pages had become full of nonsensical phrases, mostly a result of the anger still in her system. But that anger began to fade from anger into a depression.

Why couldn’t she be stronger?

Why didn’t she do enough at the moment?

The pain finally struck her heart. Silence began to be her worst enemy, and something she thought she’d never do is what she did. Parr slams her hands on the desk, crying out, almost as if it were a scream or cry for help. The scream was enough to wake up Catherine of Aragon in an instant. A second and third one woke Jane Seymour and Anna of Cleves up. The fourth one got to Anne Boleyn. In a worried hurry, Aragon got out of bed and ran down the stairs to get to the door before almost ramming it down with her own body.

“Cathy? Mija, what’s the–… Cathy?”

What she saw was a torn woman in front of her. Her bandaged hand had a little blood seeping through the ends. Some of the curls were sticking to her face, and her eyes were all puffy and red. Aragon gently pulled Parr up and into a tight embrace. “Escúchame. Todo está bien, Cathy. Estamos en la casa.” Normally, Aragon had a commanding nature that gave off the feeling of someone being safeguarded behind a wall, but this was one of those moments she was willing to let her wall down. Parr’s grip tightened, with the tears coming back and rushing in like an ocean’s grey waves.

Catherine learned just a smidge of Spanish for her godmother. Enough to get by with a conversation or two, but she was not fluent in any way. “Duele, Lina,” a sniffle. “Todo esto duele y no hice lo suficiente para ayudar.” And there was something about her goddaughter using Spanish in such a defeated manner that made Aragon crack a little on the inside. Her own eyes were welling up with tears as she looked to the door.

Seymour, Cleves, and Boleyn.

All three of them with wide eyes and fairly concerned expressions. But it was Anne who saw the tears forming in Aragon’s eyes and threatening to spill. The two lock eyes and it takes everything in Anne to not crack too. She gives Aragon a look that says, ‘Let me try.’ Lina nods and gives Cathy’s hand a small squeeze, and Anne goes and kneels on the floor in front of her. 

The other three stand in the hallway, knowing it was probably best to give the two a moment. “Did that not wake Kitty?” Cleves pauses, and then points in the general direction of Howard’s room, loud classical music streaming through her closed door. 

Anne takes Parr’s hands. “Cathy, please talk to me… please, love.” It takes Parr a moment to look into Boleyn’s eyes, which are also filled with tears at this point. “It kills me to see you hurting.” A hand goes to wipe some tears from Parr’s cheeks. It lingers there, cupping her cheek, Anne’s thumb reflexively going back and forth to wipe more tears as they fall. 

“It kills me to see you hurting.” Her statement is coupled with a small voice crack, and not one that you would usually find endearing. This was out of pure sadness and anger. She sighs. “I should’ve done more.” She looks at the floor, past Boleyn, though her head is now resting on the girl’s hand. 

“He’s the one that deserves to be on a scaffold!” She starts to sob again, leaning forward, and Anne catches her, in a sense. Shaking with anger, she lets it out, nearly soaking Anne’s shirt in a matter of seconds. “He deserves to die! Why is he here?” Her breathing becomes slightly erratic, heaving breaths joining in with shallow sobs. 

The three in the hallway silently elect to let the two work through it. It really seemed as if Anne was the only one who was going to be able to get her to calm down, even if only a fraction. Aragon lingers for a moment, and then decides finally to go back to her room, leaving the door open in case anyone needed anything. Jane does the same, but reads for a few minutes before going back to sleep. 

Anne isn’t sure what to do, so she stands both of them up, having to support Parr a little, and just holds her, swaying back and forth slowly. “Shh… babe… he doesn’t deserve your tears…” Anne, you preach this, yet you’re a mess too. Albeit, a mess because Cathy is crying, but a mess nonetheless. “He… he’s getting his karma. He has to watch us thrive. And he can’t do a damned thing to us. We’re untouchable.” She was also telling herself this. 

Parr nods quietly, latching on to Anne even more, as if letting her go would mean she’d disappear into thin air. Though she hadn’t actually said it, she knew she loved Anne. More than anything, and if punching Henry in the face was what she had to do to protect her, she’d do it every day for the rest of her life. 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” She speaks softly, voice scratchy as a result of the outburst. It was nearing five o’clock at this point, but it didn’t matter. With no hesitation, Anne replies with a simple “Of course,”  pulling away slightly to look Parr in the eyes. Those tired, red eyes, still wet with tears formed over a man who didn’t matter one bit. Not in this moment, he didn’t. 

The two make their way to Boleyn’s room, a twin bed being the only place for them, but it would be plenty of space. Anne lays down first, patting the small space next to her for Parr to join. It’s almost as if they’re out as soon as they cover up. 

Kit sleeps through all of this. Perhaps it’s the music blaring from her speakers, or the exhaustion from the events of the day, but it’s the first night the girl doesn’t wake up screaming. The other queens are really surprised to see her downstairs in the morning, looking well rested and pouring herself a cup of tea, seemingly fine. “G’morning.” She yawns, and the others just kind of look at each other as if reality has shifted. “Where are Cathy and Annie?” 

“In bed, still.” 

“Ja.” 

“I should check on them.” Kit says, setting her tea down. Cleves joins her, cringing a little when Kit knocks awfully loudly on the door and pushes it open. “Halt die Klappe, Kit…” Kit turns and looks at her, a puzzled look on her face. Cleves rolls her eyes jokingly, and then whispers again. “You’re too loud.” 

The sight upon opening the door is a combination of comedic and sweet. Parr is absolutely sprawled out on top of Anne, snoring loudly and taking up most of the bed. One of her hands is on Anne’s cheek, as if she had fallen asleep holding the girl’s face. Anne is awake, quietly scrolling through TikTok with headphones in. She looks at the two in the doorframe and smiles, looking down at Parr. ‘We’re okay.’ She mouths, and Jane and Aragon peek in, a small laugh coming from the Spanish queen. It warmed her heart to see the two all bundled up and Parr seemingly at peace, even if only for a moment. 

Parr makes a small noise and shifts, essentially pulling Anne closer and wrapping a leg around her. The ladies all smile, electing to leave the two alone. It was evident that everything would be okay, at least for now. Anne kisses Cathy on the forehead, letting out a happy sigh. Parr subconsciously replies with a small snore, and the two stay there, safe in each other's arms, for most of the day. 

A couple hours seem to pass and it’s about… noon, when Parr starts stirring. Anne notices this, and begins to smile. At least she was waking up. However, things were not going to go to plan, because in comparison to Anne, Catherine was a whole lot taller, and took up just a bit more space. Thinking for a moment she was still in her room, Parr went to try and roll to the other side of the bed, but immediately woke up at not having anything underneath her. A loud enough thudding noise got everyone’s attention.

The other four queens almost immediately ran to the doorframe, and Anne was sitting up.

In typical Boleyn fashion, she was laughing.

Parr on the other hand, was not very happy. “Ow…” Looking up, she just sees the green queen essentially laying back down because of the laughter, and a glance to the doorway reveals four others holding back laughter. “Oh haha, funny that Cathy Parr fell off a bed now is it?”

Through the laughter, Boleyn responds.

“It’s marvelous, love!”

#tw: blood #tw: violence #six #six musical #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #catalina de aragon #anna of cleves #anne boleyn #katherine howard #kitty howard #The Beheaded Cousins Write #sixfic #six fanfiction #parrlyn #aramour

[descendantofthesparrow]

Harry Hook x reader - exchange

Harry stared at the beautiful necklace in the window, hands in his pockets. The sapphire and ruby-encrusted jewelry staring mockingly at him.

All he wanted to do this year, was get his amazing girlfriend of 3 months her first Christmas gift from him, it had to be good or else!

‘all guys know, if a girl doesn’t get a good and expensive present for her birthday or Christmas, or an anniversary from their significant other, they'll dump ‘em flat, it's just the facts Hook’ Chad Charming had said that to him a little while after he and (y/n) had gotten serious.

Harry pulled out his phone, opening his bank account app.

$496.56 available in your account.

glancing back up, he grimaced at the price tag of the necklace

$2,000.99

“ugg, I'm never gonna be able to get ‘er a present worthy of ‘er”

shaking his head, he sulked down the street, making his way back to auradon prep. shivering as he made it inside, just in time for curfew, rubbing his hands together to gather warmth, and shaking off the cold snow from his shoulders.

“Harry~!” he felt a smile bloom on his face as he locked eyes on you, (short/long/mid-length) (h/c) hair gleaming under the lights, bright (e/c) eyes happy to see him, and a bright gorgeous smile.

god, he had gotten the most beautiful girl in auradon hadn’t he? that’s why he had to get the most beautiful present for her.

“bonnie lass~” he cooed, catching you with his arms and hips, spinning you around slightly as you jumped on him. “hehe, I was only gone for 20 minutes~”

“I know~ but I missed you” you mumbled into his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

“Alright, alright little koala, let’s go” 

you giggled as harry carried you back to your dorm, letting you drop yourself back onto your feet.

“Thanks, hooky” you smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek, which was still red from the cold.

“yer welcome love, now get some sleep” you nodded, pulling him into a quick hug before sliding back into your dorm.

“good night Harry ”

“goodnight (y/n)”

=

you sighed as the door closed, god you were falling in love with that boy, and hard too.

“so what are you getting him for Christmas (y/n)?” Jane spoke up from her bed, smiling at the stupid grin on your face, but frowning when your smile dropped.

“shit! I don’t know! he's so perfect, so I have to get him something perfect!!” Jane found herself laughing.

“what- why are you laughing?!” Jane stifled her giggling, smiling at you “because the gift value doesn’t matter, it's the person it’s coming from that matters~!”

you sighed “I know but...Harry-Harry is my first boyfriend, so the first Christmas gift has to be perfect! and if it’s not perfect, Harry will think I'm not worth it and then he’ll leave me!!!!” Jane sighed and stood from her bed, walking over to you and gripping your shoulders

“if I help you find something, will you chill for at least a couple days about a gift for Harry?” you nodded vigorously, grabbing Jane's hands

“yes of course! thank you Jane!!”

Jane nodded, grinning “you’re welcome, now go to bed!”

you laughed, releasing Jane and heading over to your dresser to grab your sweat pants and a Harry hoodie.

“Alright, see you in the morning jane”

“see you in the morning (y/n)”

=

 “christ Harry 2,000 dollars for a necklace? you sure about it?”

Harry nodded, looking intently at his phone at the photo he took.

“it’s perfect for ‘er Uma, I have ta get this one”

“Harry, I'm pretty sure you can just get her a 25 dollar crystal necklace and she’d never take it off till it broke, and then she would go crazy over fixing it because you gave it to her”

Harry shook his head, messing with his mother’s old ruby ring, “no Uma, I have ta get this one, it's the only thing worthy of ‘er” Uma rolled her eyes. she would never understand Harry’s obsession to please whoever he was with, it was the same with his dad.

and then Uma, and now (y/n), with him wanting to make her happy with lavishing her with expensive gifts when she would be happy with a well-worn hoodie or jacket.

“Okay so it’s perfect for her, but it's 2,000 DOLLARS you can’t afford it!!” Harry’s shoulders slumped, feeling that pressing feeling on his back.

“I know, what am I goin’ ta do?” Harry locked eyes on his ring, ripping it off his pinkie finger he turned to Uma with a giant grin.

“I'll sell my ring!!’ Uma's eyes widened and she shook her head

“what no! that’s the only thing you have of your mom left!!” Harry’s face dimmed slightly “I-I know but, if it’s for (y/n)-”

Uma groaned, standing “alright whatever, do what you want, but I'm warning you, (y/n) would be happy with just a bracelet or something”

Uma walked off, leaving Harry to stare at his mother’s ring.

=

“no, no, no, no, nope, nah, no, uggg there’s nothing!!”

you flopped back into your chair, there was nothing online for harry, and going to the mall had proved fruitless.

“come on (y/n), let’s go to the mall one last time, maybe you’ll find a cool jacket?”  you sighed, shrugging.

“yeah, we have to go later though, I have winter break homework to do” Jane nodded, putting on her coat.

“Alright, I'm going to go to lunch with Lonnie and Evie alright?”

“kay have fun”

=

Harry rushed through the streets, skidding to a stop at the jewelry shop, smiling as he spotted the necklace, glancing at his hand, he played with the ruby ring.

“Hopefully it's enough for an exchange” he muttered, pushing through the shop doors.

“Hello, welcome to the miner’s jewelry shop, I'm Doc, how can I help ya?” Harry took a deep breath holding out the ring.

“is it possible I can exchange this for that ruby and sapphire necklace in the window?” Doc blinked, taking the ring carefully and examining it.

“well my boy, the necklace retails for $2,000, and this...wow this would go for $5,000 easily, are you sure about this?” Harry blinked surprised, 5,000? wow, but he had already made up his mind.

“I'm sure, its, the necklace is important to meh”

doc smiled, eyes twinking “whos the girl son?” Harry felt his face heat up, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“that easy to figure it out? well, her name is (y/n) and...she's really important to meh, and I need the first Christmas gift I get ‘er to be perfect.”

Doc nodded, glancing back at the ruby, “alright, I’ll take this, and you can take the necklace, sound good?” Harry nodded, grinning widely.

“yes! that sounds perfect!”

Doc smiled, placing the ring on the counter, getting up from behind the counter to retrieve the necklace.

“I’ll tell ya something else, if she doesn’t like it, you can return that and I’ll give you back your ring” Harry nodded, watching as Doc unclipped the necklace and walked back to the counter to place it in a box.

“Thank yeh”

as he left Harry couldn’t help the sinking pit that formed in his stomach as he walked away from the last thing he had ever gotten from his mother. 

=

you groaned, closing the math book, and face slamming into the cover.

“you good love?” you jumped out of your skin, whirling around to see Harry grinning devilishly at you.

“Harry you ass” you laughed, standing and walking over to him for a hug. he hugged you tightly, rocking you slightly.

“Sorry love”

you sighed, pulling back and grasping his hands, brows furrowing when you noticed something missing from his right-hand pinkie.

“Harry?” you questioned, bringing up the aforementioned hand “where's your ring? you never take it off?”

Harry shrugged “im havin’ it polished”

you didn’t believe him, he never trusted anyone with it.

you narrowed your eyes but let the matter go, not wanting to start a fight.

“alright whatever you say hooky”

=

your jaw dropped as you passed by a jewelry shop, Harry’s ruby ring sitting inside a box in the window, you could tell it was it due to the specific scratch on the band on the left side, no price listed, instead it said.

not for sale till 1/30/2020

pushing open the door you walked right up to the man at the desk, pointing back at the ring.

“how much is that ruby ring in the window”

doc smiled, he could hear the anger and confusion in your voice.

“(y/n) I presume?”

your arm dropped to your side, and you balked, jaw-dropping and eyes widening, looking confused “wha- how do you know my name?”

“your boyfriend came in about two days ago, traded in that ring to get something for you”

your jaw dropped, “but-it- its important to him, I wouldn’t want him to give it up just to get me something”

doc chuckled “tell you what darling, I'll give it to you for free, so you can give it back, and you’ll be able to keep your present from him”

you balked “but-but-free?! you’re going to give me it for free?!”

“why it's Christmas! and I have plenty of rubies to spare, I don’t need one with precious sentimental value” 

you felt tears burn at your eyes, and you nodded “thank you, thank you so much”

“of course, now let me go fetch it and I’ll wrap it up for you too”

“at least let me pay for the wrapping?”

“oh alright”

=

“I still can’t believe you gave it up Harry, you know when she finds out she’s going to be pissed”

Harry shrugged, tying the ribbon on the wrapped box “not when she sees ‘er present I bet” Uma made a face, yeah right, she’s just going to storm right over to the store and demand the ring back.

“whatever Harry, she's going to be pissed at you” Uma stood and walked out of the room, leaving Harry behind with the pit in his stomach growing bigger and sinking deeper.

"I'm doin’ this fo’r ‘er." Harry stated to himself, looking down at the semi-neatly wrapped present. "Ma would've liked ‘er…." 

~~~

"I can't believe he traded his ring for a present for me! This ring is way too important to him!" You exclaimed, pacing your room.

"He must've gotten you something expensive." Jane stated, watching you pace.

"But this is the last thing his mother gave him! Why on earth-"

"Bonnie lass?" Harry's voice came from the other side of the door.

You ran to the door, shoving the wrapped up ring box behind ur back as you opened the door.

"Harry!" You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Merry Christmas love!" Harry exclaimed, hugging you back.

Jane coughed, causing you to release Harry and glare at her.

"Jane, don't you have your gift exchange with Carlos?" You stated.

Jane went wide-eyed, grabbing her present and rushing past the both of you with a quick "bye!"

You laughed before pulling Harry into your room, closing the door behind you. When you turned around, Harry was holding out his gift to you.

"Harry, I want you to open yours first." You stated, holding out your smaller gift to him. He looked confused for a second, but nodded, taking the box.

You took yours, watching as he walked to your bed, sat down, and began to open it. You smiled as he opened the ring box. 

"But how?" Harry questioned as he held up his mother's ruby ring. he looked to you, his eyes were shining with tears.

You smirked. "I saw it in the window at the jewelry shop you traded it at. Doc was very kind even though I basically threw open the door and demanded to know the price of it. Although he knew right away who I was." You rambled on.

"But now I have to return your gift…." Harry frowned.

You smiled. "Nope! Doc said I could keep it." 

"Really? Well open it lass!" Harry exclaimed, sliding his mother's ring back onto his finger, where it belongs.

You sat down next to Harry and began to untie the ribbons on your present. Unwrapping became a bit of a struggle when you realized Harry has never done this kind of thing before. 

Finally, you managed to get to the box inside. You opened it up and gasped. The ruby and sapphire encrusted necklace shined up at you.

(imagine the diamonds are sapphires) 

"Do ye like it?" Harry asked as you held up the necklace.

"I absolutely love it! But Harry, don't ever think about giving up something of yours just for me, legit i would have been happy with one of your old hoodies" You exclaimed, putting on the necklace.

Harry snickered, shaking his head. "Alright Love. I won't try tha’ again." 

Harry leaned forward, kissing your forehead. "Merry Christmas my love"

You smiled, laying back into Harry's chest. "Merry Christmas my pirate"

~The End~

thank you to @marichat4lyf​  who both beta read and wrote the last half of this fic!!

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #christmas fic

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫      

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected  ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa  [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension  1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of  that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?”  Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone  “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression.  “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!”  His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

#peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders preference #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders imagines #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons headcanon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby immagine #peaky blinders one shot #alfie solomons one shot #john shelby x reader #michael gray x reader #arthur shelby x reader #finn shelby x reader #ada shelby x reader #isaiah jesus x reader

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 14 Months, 26 Days

He feels rested.

Which is strange, considering how little rest he truly needs. His body feels  relaxed and at ease, not plagued by exhaustion or pain. You had healed him swiftly with the aid of Y’shtola, his wound sealing up quickly and with hardly a scar, not that he would’ve minded. It is rare someone of his prowess ever attains one, and to see the marred skin is strange and exciting in a way that is almost childish.

It is also warm.

The sun peeking in from the window warms his creamy skin, shines on fine strands of his golden hair. Birds are chirping outside, the sounds of the city rise up through the window, festivities continuing in celebration of the unending Light being purged. He idly runs his eyes across the many features of your room, having little else to do.

After all, you refuse to release him.

Your nude form is firmly tucked against his own, hidden underneath the blankets of the bed you two share. You arms are wrapped around his torso as best as possible, your face nuzzled into his neck, your strong legs tangled with his own. He has been awake for at least a bell, but given your recent trials, he saw fit to let you wake when you were ready.

You were welcomed back to the Crystarium with cheers and ale, the sound of celebration ringing everywhere within the city. He was not one to socialize amongst the common folk (or much at all), but he let you receive your thanks and declarations of gratitude from the seemingly unending denizens of the Crystarium. Contentment filled him as you finally let go; enjoyed yourself as you danced with the twins, engaged in merriment with the Scions. It took everyone’s mind off the unsure future ahead, knowing that one unsundered Ascian remained. 

Once you had your fill, your eyes met his in a way so fiery that anyone else would have been floored by it’s intensity. The way you so casually strolled up to him betrayed nothing of your intentions; intentions he was unsure of even as you took his hand in yours and led him back to your rooms and pressed him against a wall. He had forgotten how demanding you could be when you were taken over by desire, but he was not wont to deny you as you pressed your lips to his own and his arms brought you flush against him.

For bells did he worship your body much like a beastman to his savage god, finally able to slake his lust as he filled you with everything he had. No ilm of skin went untouched or unmarked, until he saw you claimed fully by him and him alone. Once again, the rightness of it all threatened to undo him; of how well you fit into his arms as he plunged deep within your core, his hands on your hips, his name falling from your lips so sweetly. He took his pleasure and gave as much in return, unhappy until the only words that fell from your lips were cries of his name.

Sighing, he contents himself with running his fingers across your skin, taking note of it’s softness, noticing the marks of bruises forming. You have slept deeply, practically dead to the world as you trusted in his ability to protect you.

Such responsibility you place on him.

He considers himself up to the task.

“I will never get used to this...”

Thancred's words reach him, from even outside the door. Zenos arches an eyebrow as they enter the Ocular, his form tall and imposing compared to the smaller statures of the Scions. When you had arrived, it was hand in hand, not at all ashamed of displaying your togetherness.

The Crystal Exarch politely coughs to gather everyone’s attention, his cowl now back in place. “Well then. While we have an unexpected addition, full glad am I to see everyone hale and whole after last night’s festivities.” He begins, fingers tapping lightly on his staff. “Warrior of Light?”

He watches as your eyes turn to the Exarch, giving him a stunning smile. “Yes, G’raha Tia?” You reply, giggling as the smaller man seems to freeze for a moment. Eventually the Exarch chuckles a bit himself, crystalline hand reaching for his cowl to tug it backwards, revealing his ruby red hair, tinted with silver.

“Thank you.” He beams, red eyes sparkling. “You have all done wonderfully. While saying this might sour the mood, I believe the Warrior should return to Eorzea, to recount the happenings here to your allies back home, as it seems you all are still unable to return.”

“And leave us here with him?” Thancred huffs, not all bothering to hide just who he’s referring to, eyes trained on Zenos’ form. He can’t help but smirk back at the snowy haired man, shifting his stance slightly. “Afraid, savage? Worried that the Warrior won’t be able to protect you when you finally slip up for the last time?” Zenos taunts, grinning at how Thancred stiffens.

He’s not at all deterred by you giving him a firm slap on his arm, scoffing as he sees your pout. 

“Strangely enough, I am unsure by what means this is possible, but I had spoken with Y’shtola prior to your arrival...” The Exarch begins again, drawing attention back to the matter at hand. “Zenos is like the Warrior of Light, in terms of his spirit. He is here with us, body and soul, and should be able to return to the Source without issue.” Alphinaud visibly relaxes at that remark, Alisaie clicking her tongue and clenching her jaw as if she is holding back her rage.

You fingers give his arm a good squeeze, not bothering to hide your smile at the unexpected news. “That being said, I suppose for everyone else, if you have any other business you wish to attend to, now would be the time as the Warrior returns to the Source.” The Exarch smiles warmly at you, though there is a pain in his eyes. “As for you, my friend, if there is anything you wish to take care of before returning to the source, do as you must. Pray return here when you are ready.”

With those words, the Scions depart for the lands they had called “home” in their stay on the First. The goodbyes are somewhat awkward, their eyes drifting to his form as he stands at your side, silently overseeing your farewells. Eventually, everyone has left, leaving you and Zenos high on a tower gazing into the lavender forests of Lakeland in the distance.

“Do you want to go back?” He hears you ask, your fingers running gently over his knuckles. He did not think you to be one so affectionate, let alone so publicly, but has no objections. If anything, it shows those who know about him that you have made your decision.

You have chosen him, and there is naught they can do about it.

“To the Source?” He inquires for clarification, letting you cradle his hand in yours. You touch him in a way that feels exploratory; as if memorizing every ilm of his skin and committing the feel of him to memory. He will never ceased to be amused how someone as magnificent as you still seem so small due to his height and stature.

“Yes. You...I will return. To tell the remaining Scions of the Source what has transpired.” You murmur, fingers tapping lightly across his knuckles, betraying your nervousness. “But...you don’t have,”

“Do not tell me. You want me to remain in Eorzea?” He asks, scoffing as your head shoots up to look at him. “Warrior, you leave me to wonder if you really want me around at all.” He teases, enjoying the way your skin flushes red.

“That’s not it!” You snap, all teeth and power, striking like lightning. “I just know that you probably don’t want to sit here and return to the First, just to sit around and watch me search for a way to bring the Scion’s home.” You fret, eyes filled to the brim with worry.

“You are correct in that researching a way to return your friends home will be most dull.” He drones, smirking at your bared teeth. Sighing, he clutches your hand and brings you against him, giving a snicker at your surprised yelp. “You are foolish to think I would part from you. Have I not defied death, crossed realms to track you down?” He questions, using his free hand to tilt your chin upward to face him. “Perhaps, I should brand it on your skin? I am loathe to keep repeating myself, even for you.” He hums, watching as you get misty eyed.

“You’re the fool...” You sniffle, burying your face into his chest to hide your tears. He smooths a hand down your back, the motion slightly more natural to him now. “What hunter looses his quarry once it is caught?” He asks, wrapping his arms around you. He should be frightened at this closeness he desires, he can feel it lurking in the back of his mind. It is such a monumental change, for who he had been alone for so long.

Not having known the touch of another aside from him blocking their fist, their blade slicing his skin, their foot pinning him to the ground. Your caress differs from those he had felt from the courtesans he had attend him during his life. The warmth of your body feels soothes him in a way your blood does not.

Not to say that the sight of you beaten and bruised does not excite him. Oh, how he hungers.

“You have not caught me yet.” Your smile is coy, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Is that so?” He responds, playing along as he arches a delicate eyebrow. “Elaborate if you would.” He prompts, smirking as you crook a finger at him. Bending slightly, he shudders as your hands brush his hair to the side, your lips close to his ear.

“You still do not know my name.” You whisper in a way that is both sensual and charming. His hands reach for your hips, pressing you flush against him. As if you were not close enough already.

“Shall I go threaten the Scions with murder to find out?” He jests, growling playfully as you nip at his ear in reprimand. “Do that again and it is not your name that will be falling from those sweet lips of yours, hero.” He warns, enjoying the feel of you taking your turn to shudder against him.

“What would your countrymen say if they saw you Zenos? Their prince being so amorous, with the Warrior of Light no less.” You purr, setting his blood aflame. To take you here would not bother him in the least, after all he was never one to feel shame. It is only in consideration of you does he repress his urges despite your teasing.

“Would you prefer if I withdrew my attentions?” He asks, pressing a kiss of his own to your neck that has you sighing dreamily into his hold. 

“I would prefer if you called me by name.” You answer, giving him a light squeeze. You are pliant against him, molding against his body perfectly. He can feel every breath you take, feel the thudding of your heart against his own. 

“Then by all means...I am listening.” He murmurs, breath stilling as if you are both trapped in this moment where there is only the two of you.

When you lean in even closer and whisper your name, he cannot help the grin that spreads across his face.

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Shadowbringers #kykm

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: Of Fruits and Photoshoots

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.8k Rating: G Time Frame: Later in Maki’s 1st and Nico’s 3rd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

Authors Note: Thank you to those who offered ideas for possible locations for the background scenery of the second NicoMaki UR pair in SIF.

I will post the pic at the end for those who need a refresher on its appearance, and because I adore it and look forward to their release to WW.

“How about these?” Nico help up a handful of rhinestones. “Maybe make a hair clip out of them or something?”

“The rubies certainly match your eyes.” Eli approved as she continued to work on another accessory. “And pearls would stand out well in your hair.”

“I meant for her.” The raven-haired girl clarified.

“Then the pearls are definitely a decent choice for accents.” The blonde nodded. “Otherwise, on their own, the rubies might get lost in her hair.”

“Yeah, that too. And I was also thinking about using these for me.” Nico indicated a pair of red ribbons with thin white stripes.

“Ah, I see.” Eli nodded. “A good match.”

“Think she’ll notice?”

“Do you want her to?”

“And so what if I do?” Nico scrunched her nose at the unexpected return question. “Anyway, red and white works for her strawberry theme.” She began attaching the faux gems to a clip. “And my watermelon theme as well.”

“Shouldn’t it be red and green for you? Or red and black if you went with the seeds?”

“The rind is white.”

“I suppose.”

“Though I was kinda hoping I could find some diamonds…” Nico admitted before thinking better of it.

“Didn’t we just have a birthstone set?”

“Yeah, but… oh, never mind.”

Eli rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the accessory in her hand.

Nico knew Eli saw straight through her, but she wasn’t going to admit it out loud. So what if she wanted to have a few accessories match with Maki? It wasn’t the first time they had similar things on their outfits and probably wouldn’t be the last… hopefully. Besides, it wasn’t like the younger girl would notice anyway, so what harm would it do? It was just a little something that made Nico happy, and that alone was worth it. And if Maki did happen to notice, then all the better.

“So, what do you think?” Eli spoke up after a moment.

Nico blinked back to reality to inspect the item in the blonde’s hand.

“Nozomi will love it.”

“It’s not for…”

“I know.” Nico interrupted. “But red is a good color for you, especially in your hair. And Nozomi will love it. And will undoubtedly comment on it.” She smirked. “Probably lewdly.”

“Nico…”

“Turnabout is fair play.” The raven-haired girl stuck out her tongue.

The blonde pouted, earning a laugh from the other girl. But after a moment of getting past her embarrassment, she joined in with a chuckle of her own.

Under different circumstances, Nico might have used an overdramatic display of disgust when it came to the topic of her fellow third-years and their public flirtations. It was an act the three of them knew she used to deal with her jealousy over what Eli and Nozomi had together; what Nico wished she had with the girl she liked.

But today she was in higher spirits. Today, she and Eli were preparing accessories for an upcoming photoshoot that included a set for which Nico had been matched with Maki as the focus pair. It wasn’t summer yet, but the set’s theme was something about vacations, swimsuits and fruit. Each girl had chosen or been assigned a fruit and would wear two outfits designed with it in mind.

Maki ended up with a strawberry theme. Granted, the redhead often found herself in hues reminiscent of her hair, but she always looked good in them, which probably lent to the repetition. And Nico was excited to see the results, as well as show off her own.

“That should be long enough for it to set.” Nico thought out loud about the adhesive she had applied to hold the gems to the clip. “Who’s next?”

“Ma~ki-cha~n!”

The redhead turned toward the voice calling her from behind. “Nico-chan.” She greeted with a nod.

The raven-haired girl running up to her was dressed in a watermelon themed outfit with green overall shorts covering a white shirt with green stripes. It wasn’t the overly stylized version for this part of the photoshoot, but the pastel shades offered an adorable softness that was well suited to the image Nico always tried to portray. And of course, no outfit the girl wore was complete without pink, so ruffles on the sleeve and collar of the shirt filled that role. Maki allowed herself a moment to take in the view as Nico closed the distance between them.

Even if Maki had wanted to, she would have been hard pressed in denying that Nico looked incredibly cute right now. Not that she wanted to deny it anyway. Probably. But it did bother her how cute Nico could be at times. Like now. Maybe.

“There’s one more thing before we begin!” The third-year held out something that glittered in the stray light from the nearby set.

“Hair clips?” The first year inquired on recognition.

“Yup!” Nico chirped before reaching up. “Hold still a sec.”

“Did you just find these or…?”

“Nope. Nico made these just for Maki-chan.”

“Then why not hand them out with all of the rest?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nico furrowed her eyebrows. “Nico made these just for Maki-chan. So she wanted to give them to Maki-chan personally. Got a problem with that?”

“N-no… uhm… Th-thank you?”

“And there we go.” Nico grinned as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. After a moment, she turned to the photographer’s assistant. “You guys have a mirror?”

“Oh, yes.” The young man replied before moving to a nearby counter to retrieve the requested item. “Here.”

“Take a look, Maki-chan.” Nico held the mirror up.

“They are quite pretty.” Maki reached up to touch the clips in her hair.

Was it her imagination, or did the clips kind of match the striped bows in Nico’s hair? Maybe? Even if not, Maki decided she preferred to consider it a match because it made her feel good, for some reason.

“I know, right?” The older girl interrupted her thoughts. “Nico knows her accessories.”

“Thank you, Nico-chan.” The younger girl’s thanks was more sincere than the one she had given prior.

“You two ready?” The photographer suddenly asked.

“Yeah, sorry.” Nico replied. “Be right there.”

The two girls made their way onto the set. In front of the greenscreen they found a couple classic poolside style chaise lounge chairs and a few small side tables. Off to the side, on a counter, was a decent selection of props from which they could choose.

“This set is nice.” Maki commented, touching a tray on which sat a glass tea set filled with a red liquid.

“Of course Maki-chan goes for the red things.”

“Well, my fruit is a strawberry…”

“True, but you often choose red things.”

“I like red…”

“So you like your cheeks then.”

Maki pouted, earning a laugh from the other girl.

“And I suppose it’s a good thing Nico’s eyes are red!”

It took a moment for the implication to click in Maki’s mind, but once it did, she balked. “Buweehh?” She turned to find an amused glimmer in said eyes accompanied by a toothy grin, the combination of which made it difficult to get upset.

“Anyway, Nico is going to use this.”

The twin-tailed girl grabbed a plate of what looked like cake with decorative icing and two scoops of sherbet.

“Alright.” The photographer spoke again. “If you could each choose a seat, we can get started.” She motioned to the chairs.

Maki did as instructed and leaned back onto the plastic slats. “You know… kyaa!” She cried in surprise as her ankles were suddenly grabbed. “Nico-chan?”

“I think this will work better for the shot.” The older girl replied, moving Maki’s legs off the side. “How is this?” She asked the photographer as she knelt where the younger girl’s feet had been a moment ago.

“That will work just fine.” The woman responded, giving an affirmative gesture.

“So you’re not going to need this?” The assistant asked, moving to the empty chair.

“Nah, I’d rather be here, closer to Maki-chan.” Nico replied, grinning at the blushing redhead and scooting in a few centimeters more.

The young man nodded and removed the unneeded prop.

“So, you were saying?” The raven-haired girl prompted, lifting the fork in her hand as though to take a bite of the fake cake.

“Oh, right, uhm…” Maki scrambled to recover her derailed train of thought. “I was going to say that the décor reminds me of the place in Demark.”

“Copenhagen, yes, I can see that.” The photographer stated. “The background we are using could be seen as reminiscent of the buildings around the canals of Nyhavn. But I don’t believe there are palm trees in Denmark.”

“Not along the canals, no.” Maki agreed. “But I do remember seeing some last time we were there… maybe in the botanical gardens?”

“Maybe.”

“Then is the background of the painted ladies in San Francisco? They have palm trees there.”

“I’d have to double check the file, but I thought it said it was shot in the Canary Islands? I could be wrong.”

“Maybe Northern Ireland? Spain?”

“Whitehead and Vilajoyosa? I don’t think either was it.” The photographer shook her head. “I can check for sure while you two change for the next part of the set.”

“Alright.” Maki agreed before shifting her gaze to find Nico staring at her. “What…?”

“Does Maki-chan have a vacation house in all of those places.”

“No, but I’ve visited most of them.”

“Hrmph…” Nico huffed. “Must be nice; traveling the world all the time.”

“Not always.” Maki admitted. “A lot of it was for business, so my parents would be busy the whole day. And since I was too young to go anywhere on my own, I would just spend the day reading at the hotel.”

“And the place in Denmark?”

Maki realized she could detect a bit of jealousy in the older girl’s voice. “It’s not ours.” She clarified, shaking her head. “One of our old doctors moved to Europe after he retired. He lets us use that place when we want.”

“Must be nice.” Nico repeated.

The jealousy wasn’t going away. What to say? Uhm… “It is a lovely city.” No, that didn’t seem like something that would diffuse the situation.

“Then if Nico becomes a famous idol,” Nico suddenly preened “she’s going to have to get her own place in Copenhagen. And the Canary Islands. And San Francisco. And maybe a few other places Maki-chan hasn’t even been yet.”

“You mean when you become a famous idol.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“Hrm?”

“Your place.” Maki found herself getting a little excited. Not only had Nico’s mood improved somewhat, but the idea of taking a trip with her was surprisingly appealing. “Or places, any of them, really, when you get them.”

“Of course!” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Someone like Maki-chan would be welcome anytime. Nico thought that much would be obvious.”

“I’ll hold you to it then.” Maki lifted her cup as though to propose a toast, despite the other girl lacking a beverage of her own, fake or otherwise.

“And I think that’s the shot right there.” The photographer spoke up again. “But let’s take a few more to be sure.”

The two girls gave their affirmation and the photoshoot continued.

UR Pair Referenced:

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishkino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

[dailydoppidoppio-blog]

Would you be willing to share your gem head-canons? 0:

dklsalkffkld putting under a readmore cause its embarrassin////also got dailyabbs permission to post cause they’re in the chat too lmao

mostly about charoite, purple pearl/obsidian, and my pink diamond diavolo

Sailorbeefcake-05/10/2017Hm What sort of personality do you think they’d have?Futes-05/10/2017i feel like they’d be a smug bitch tbh “since we’re so dedicated to our diamond, obvs we’re the best and most loyal ”Sailorbeefcake-05/12/2017Man tho, other than being a jerk makes me wonder what their personality is like!I bet that they’re, hmTERRIFYINGLY goal-focused Probably also rather smug, tooFutes-05/12/2017yessssssssssswould deff be super super focused on their goalwould also aim to getting perfect marks on their missions too if they ever got any like a higher up asking them to get then a drink and they come back ten secs later with onehigher ups probs wouldnt really care about how fast they got it for them but theyd be smug about iti can also see them super beating themselves over any mistake they do no matter how smallSailorbeefcake-05/12/2017Eeee, nice! And yeah goddamnPoor thing would probably unfuse whenever they messed upFutes-05/12/2017>accidentally places the fork on the wrong side WELP TIME TO DIE defusesSailorbeefcake-05/12/2017FUCKFutes-05/12/2017lmao thohow tf would dopp and abba even meet if theyre under different diamonda????Sailorbeefcake-05/12/2017Diamonds interact a lot!They seem more like a family than likeRulers of different kingomsKingdomsFutes-05/12/2017OHHH DO THEY???Sailorbeefcake-05/12/2017But yeah, the diamonds seem to be very closeFutes - 05/12/2017AAWWWW QWQokay then yeah it would be be possible that those two have met before lmaoi can see diavolo being a lazy diamond and making pearl dopp go to everything for himSailorbeefcake - 05/12/2017Ye!Or less lazy and more paranoidMaybe he escaped an attack on his life or something?Futes - 05/12/2017and with that power thing you gave abba, wouldnt that make him more valuable/higher up?ppffttt poor dia, even in a gem au where hes a diamond and loved hes still paranoid

Futes-Last Saturday at 7:17 PMkicks down ur door with more gem au stuffso I W A S THINGKIHNwell idk how the pink diamond/diavolo is in this au but assuming he still has the same personality, bitch is still paranoid af rightand with how abba/obsidian specializes in looking back into the past and shit would be something diavolo would be very intrested in, probs would want/request abba to look into whatever thing hes currently paranoid like he thinks someone went into his, do diamonds have rooms/places they mainly stay at?????, well w/e but would probs think someone tampered with his stuff or thinks other gems are trying to conspire against him and would want abba to see if its true or notidk how abba is to other diamonds, or how other diamonds feel about having their gems used by other people but

Futes - Last Saturday at 8:00 PMjust diavolo sending doppio to go bother abba for this shit constantly and sometimes forcefully dragging abba away since dopp would only care about making his diamond happy, fuck everyone elseand them getting fused a lot becuase charoites a fucking slut that wants to please every higher up as long as its a diamond praising them and making them feel like their better than other gems because they got direct praise for the diamondsk thats all ive been thinking about these past two days tyim trying to work on that pic but i cant get that ass spanking shit out of me head and i want to hit youSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:17 PMFuckOmg that all sounds awesome! Except for hitting me about the spanking shit lmaoBut yeah, I could see it!Diamonds often make use of gems belonging to other diamonds.Futes - Last Saturday at 10:19 PM///////////////////////////////// its ahrd to come up with shit cause idk how the diamond/hoomeworld i think it was called? idk how they work n shitSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:21 PMYeah, it’s pretty mysterious in general! Most of the gems we see much of are criminals who defected.But yeh, I could see Obsidians being passed around a lotFuccFutes - Last Saturday at 10:21 PMhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:21 PMJust thinking of Diavolo like, grabbing AbbaSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:21 PM‘You. Fuse now’Futes - Last Saturday at 10:22 PMBUT YESAND LIKE if i rememebrwhen lapis and jasper fused, did whatever gem that was keep the water powers?Sailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:25 PMYep!Malachite was incredibly powerfulAnd another gem who has the power of seeing the future appears to keep the future-vision in her fused stateFutes - Last Saturday at 10:26 PMokay so charoite would also def still have the ability to look into the past so diavolo would def be making dopp and abba fuse cause charoite would be easly to order around than abba>diavolo throwing doppio like a football at abba YEETFUSE DAMN ITSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:30 PMFUCKPoor fucking babies, my godFutes - Last Saturday at 10:32 PMdoppio has probs stopped caring lmaowould deff be used to being diavolos little bitch anywaysSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:32 PMFugI could see Abba being kinda upset about it'I am Buccellati’s gem’Futes - Last Saturday at 10:33 PMi feel like diavolo would deff be worse personality wise as a diamond tbh since everyone would know who he is and isnt really going into hiding/cantreally snappyprobs sensory overloaded all the timeSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:35 PMYeah fuckSpecially scary since Diamonds are fucking hugeFutes - Last Saturday at 10:35 PMFUCK LMAO I FORGOT ABOUTNOW PICTURING HUGE DIAVOLO THROWING TINY DOPP AT ABBA OR DROPING HIM ON HIM(edited)LMAO RIPSailorbeefcake - Last Saturday at 10:36 PMFuck, hahahaFutes-Last Saturday at 10:37 PMhhmm now i wonderhow do diamonds feel about destroying their gems? cause i can deff see diavolo getting rid of some if he really felt like they’re traitors but idk how thats handled in show or if its even brought upSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:43 PMYeah, Blue Diamond threatens to shatter a Ruby for fucking upAnd I think Yellow holds the same viewsShe talks about shattering an entire caste of gems because of the actions of oneFutes-Last Saturday at 10:43 PMOOHHHHHHHHi see nice nicethen yeah diavolo would deff be using abba/charoite to weed out 'traitors’if they’re really traitors or not is probs a mystery since this is diavolo we’re talking aboutSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:45 PMFugPoor bastards :Wonder if Abba would end up taking a stand against it and getting shattered himselfOr at least threatened with itFutes-Last Saturday at 10:46 PMpearl dopp keeps a blank face/outlook on it all probs cause hes seen some/ALL shitoooooohhhhhhhhhnooooooooo abba ;w;rip babyif abbas ability isnt all that rare then diavolo would probs break him rip. tbh at this rate i might end up desinging a pink diamond dia since i forgot that there’s already a canon pink dia that someone else owns oppsSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:48 PMI’d say it’d be relatively rare!But not like, unique just to himHmItFutes-Last Saturday at 10:50 PMhmhmmhmhmh then abba would probs either just get hurt or something since his ability would deff be too important for diavolo to get rid of just like that if its hard to findSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:50 PMIt’d probably be in his best interests to keep Abba tho, since he’s already somewhat familiar with himFutes-Last Saturday at 10:50 PMyaSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:50 PMAnother Obsidian could be even more troubleFutes-Last Saturday at 10:51 PMya and a new dopp fusion with another obsidian would probs not be as obedient as charoite>tfw you want to kill this obsidian because it keeps talking back about how you run things>but the fusion game? ridiculousSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:53 PMFugMan thoI worry about Abba and DopThey could start to lose their sense of self if they were made to be fused too often and for too longFutes-Last Saturday at 10:55 PMi can deff see that start to happen tbh, like the gem au has the whole homeworld/gems that went to earth war shit going on ya?Sailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 10:55 PMYeMan :Dop could feel betrayed if Abba ended up siding with Buccellati’s gang, who’d def be the traitorsFutes-Last Saturday at 11:02 PMhhhhhhhhhhhi honest to god have no idea how hed even react other than a silent shut down?like idk if gems start to get attached to other gems they fuse with a lot but i can see doppio not understanding how someone could just betray their diamonds just like that, esps someone he’s worked with a lot and probs one of the few other gems hes really fused with and wouldnt know what to do other than to do nothingSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:08 PMPoor Doppio, goddamn :It’d probably be pretty lonely, his jobFutes-Last Saturday at 11:08 PMyeahhhhhhhhhhhh lmao probs would be?cause on one hand you have diavolo probs getting rid of gems left and right, and on the other traitorsand heres dopp stuck in the middlehe’d probs only end up staying with diavolo cause its all he has leftSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:10 PMYeahPoor baby, goddamnFutes-Last Saturday at 11:15 PMfug thowhite diamonds kinda hotSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:22 PMYeHa ha Abba’s diamond is better than Dops!!!Futes-Last Saturday at 11:22 PMfuqNO BULLYPINK DIAMOND MAY BE A SHIT BUT DOPPIO STILL LOVES HIM maybe????????????whatisloveSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:24 PMFuckPoor DopFutes-Last Saturday at 11:25 PMthe only relationship i can see diavolo having with dopp is probs a lowkey abusive one?like if dopp wasnt uncaring and if charoite was a top fusion, probs would have shattered him by nowi can see diavolo going through pearls like they’re nothingSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:32 PMSighI’m imagining it nowHe could just smash them to blow off steamFutes-Last Saturday at 11:35 PMprobs deff during an sensory overload episode and he’s v stressed out and double paranoid, like one slight thing someone does wrong or gives diavolo the wrong idea S M A S Hhow loud diavolos area is that day are probs days you avoid himSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:36 PMYeah, fuckFutes-Last Saturday at 11:38 PM>makes all these ideas for an au i know shit about 8’)how did we get to this bifihow did we go from me doodling to all thisSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:39 PMFuckYou tell me lmaoIt’s cool tho!Poor Doppio though, god damnFutes-Last Saturday at 11:40 PMdopp went from a blank face gem cause i thought it looked good on him to a blank face WITH REASONSabba some how got looped in all this au talk too ripSailorbeefcake-Last Saturday at 11:42 PMFuck, poor guy :At least his and Dop’s fusion is still damn cool!Ooh manCould be interesting if they wound up fusing AFTER Abba defectedFutes-Last Saturday at 11:42 PMFf u u uuuu uuckckckckgodddddddddddthat would fuck abba up more if anythingsince charoite is more for diamonds only??? like idk how hed be if he got ordered around by say bruno, probs an intresting reaction would probs feel funny about it but not really in a bad way but still would be pissed that someone as low as him is trying to order him around. but i can deff see charoite not really sure what to do, since hes fused with someone thats now a traitor but wants to go back to serving diavolo tho he know he would most likely get killed on site.

fusion song chat got cut cause it wasnt really important but we both agreed on a song for themhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uk5M_q9eID0

#this has so much shit and cut chats lmao #becuase we got side tracked a lot

[newsbiteswithjennysok]

Aug 20, 2019

1. YouTube star PewDiePie has found his sweetie pie. The controversial influencer, known for his widely watched gaming videos and crass humor, married long-time girlfriend and fellow social media star Marzia Bisognin in a London ceremony on Monday — in what could be considered the royal wedding of YouTube.

“We are married!!! I’m the happiest I can be. I’m so lucky to share my life with this amazing woman,” the 29-year-old Swedish vlogger, whose real name is Felix Kjellberg, wrote Tuesday on Instagram. The Italian influencer, 26, also posted tons of shots from the big day to her 6.2 million Instagram followers, revealing that their wedding marked the eighth anniversary of the day they met.

PewDiePie proposed in April 2018 while vacationing in Japan. At the wedding, PewDiePie wore an all-black suit while Bisognin, who has a following in fashion, wore an off-white long-sleeve dress featuring a lace bodice and tulle ballgown with a peplum. 

PewDiePie is one of the world’s highest-paid YouTube stars, earning an estimated $14.5 million a year, but has come under fire for posting several videos featuring anti-Semitic jokes or images related to Nazis in 2017. Despite being booted from YouTube’s Red platform, he still makes millions off the site, though he was bested as the most followed person on the platform after decades at the top spot earlier this year by an Indian music label. PewDiePie’s multi-channel network partner Maker Studios, a subsidiary of Disney, severed ties with him and the Google Preferred program also dropped him. Between them, the couple has 107 million YouTube subscribers, 24 million followers on Instagram and 22 million Twitter followers.

2. A business owner in California says she has been forced to relocate after 15 years because of the growing homelessness crisis in the state. Elizabeth Novak, who owns a hair salon in downtown Sacramento, posted a video on Twitter on Friday describing how she often finds people camping in tents across her front door. She told how the vagrancy epidemic gripping the state is affecting long-standing business owners and that her shop has been broken into and she has even been attacked. Novak, who has run her salon for 15 years, said in her social media message that she often has to clean-up urine, feces and used needles left by rough sleepers on her doorstep.

Addressing her concerns directly to Governor Gavin Newsom, she said in a heart-felt pleas for action: 'I want to know what are you going to do for us Californians? I've had a business in downtown Sacramento for 15 years - a successful business. I now have to leave my place of business, I have to close my shop.

'I just want to tell you what happens when I get to work. I have to clean up the poop and the pee off of my doorstep. I have to clean-up the syringes.

'I have to politely ask the people who I care for, I care for these people that are homeless, to move their tents of of the way of the door to my business.

'I have to fight off people who push their way into my shop who are homeless and on drugs because you won't arrest them for drug offenses. I have to apologize to my clients as to why they can't get into my door because there's someone asleep there and they are not getting the help they need.'

At the beginning of the impassioned clip Novak says has been repeatedly sending videos, emails and tweets as well as numerous calls to Newsom in a bid to get a response.

Novak also slammed the Democrat governor's 'liberal ideology' as 'not working' and criticized him for 'sitting in his million dollar home and not having to look at what we have to look at'.

She added in the video: 'I talk to the police officers, they told me to contact you [Newsom]. They want to do something and they can't, you changed the laws.

'So I want to know what you're going to do for us, the ones that are unhappy? You want to make us a sanctuary state, you want to make it comfortable for everybody except for the people that work hard and have tried their hardest to get along in life and now we have to change that because of your laws.'

Novak's Twitter account is now private, but it was viewed around 25,000 times.

Yesterday Novak told Fox & Friends that she was going to have to relocate her business because of how bad the situation had become.

'A lot of people asked why go directly to the governor, why take it to that level and I think it's an SOS for all small business owners. And not just business owners, but employees in the downtown area.

'When I come into work I'm never sure what I'm going to walk into. I've been broken into, I've had my glass broken. I clean up human excrement off of my doorstep every week, cups of urine, things like that.'

She added: 'A lot of people are saying it's a housing issue - it's a drug issue.'

3. Colton Haynes is looking back in an effort to help others move forward.The 31-year-old actor, who has been candid about his battles with depression and substance abuse, shared a series of images Monday from his hospitalization a year ago, in an effort to help others relate and recover.

'I get immense joy when someone comes up to me & says that my willingness to open up about depression, anxiety, alcoholism, & addiction has helped them in some way,' said Haynes. 'I’m posting these photos to let y’all in on my truth. I’m so grateful to be where I am now ... but man these times were dark. I’m a human being with flaws just like you. If ur in the middle of the dark times...I promise you it doesn’t have to last forever.'

Haynes told Attitude magazine in March that the hospitalization came after a week of heavy boozing while locked in a room at the Beverly Hills Waldorf Astoria. He said when he 'was found' he was heavily bruised, unable to walk, had multiple seizures, lost partial vision temporarily and 'ended up in 5150 psyche hold.'In a series of five images in his post Monday, the Teen Wolf actor was seen in a hospital bed fitted with heart monitors. In other selfies Haynes shared from the time frame, he stared into the camera while in a plane and at a residence.

Haynes made it clear he was concerned with keeping it real on the social media site, as he said he 'no longer [wants] to project a curated life.

'Worrying about what time to post on social media so I can maximize my likes or being mad at myself that I don’t look the same way I did when I was addicted to pills is a complete waste of why I was put on this earth,' he said. 'I don’t want worrying about if I look hot or not on Instagram to be my legacy.'

He continued: 'I don’t want to skirt around the truth to please other people or to gain economic success. I have far more important things to say than what magazine I just shot for or what tv show I’m a part of (Although I’m very thankful I still get to do what I love).'

The Andale, Kansas native told Attitude that he'd entered rehab for four months last year, and had six months sobriety under his belt at the time.

'I got so heavily involved with drugs and alcohol to mask the amount of pain I was feeling that I couldn't even make some decisions for myself,' he said. 'I was drowning in my own s***.'

Haynes told the publication that his 'downward spiral' into drug abuse began three years ago, and was complicated by a series of major life events that transpired in the time frame. The actor married Kardashian family florist Jeff Leatham in October of 2017 only to split less than a year later, and his mother Dana Haynes died in March of 2018.

4. Jada Pinkett Smith opened up about her life, marriage and her new Facebook Watch series Red Table Talk in a new interview. The 47 year old actress revealed in a new interview with The Guardian that she knew she wasn't going to be a traditional wife when she married Will Smith. She also spoke about her new Facebook Watch series was inspired by talks with three friends, Salma Hayek, Pauletta Washington (Denzel Washington's wife) and Ruby Dee.

'I knew that I was not built for conventional marriage,' the actress began. 'Even the word 'wife': it's a golden cage, swallow the key.'      

'Even before I was married, I was like, "That'll kill me." And it damn near did! So why wouldn't you share what you've been through, when you see that other people are out there, trying to figure this crap out?'

'We decided to make it public because it's part of the healing. I feel like if we don't have real understanding about it, I don't know if interpersonal relationships are possible,' she continued.

She clarified that she loves her husband, her 'life partner,' adding she could not have asked for a better one.

'But I can assure you that some of the most powerful women in the world feel caged and tied, because of the sacrifices they have to make to be in that position, she said.

'So I wanted to talk about how we really feel about marriage. How do we really feel about different, unconventional relationships? How do we really feel about raising children? Honestly,' she said, which lead to Red Table Talk being born.

Smith launched her series Red Table Talk in May 2018 on the Facebook Watch streaming platform, and there was quickly an order for additional episodes.

The second season premiered in May 2019, which reportedly is comprised of 20 episodes, featuring Jada and her mother Adrienne sitting around the table with various guests.

Pinkett Smith added that she did pitch Red Table Talk to conventional TV networks and streaming services, but revealed she went with Facebook because they offered the most flexibility.  

'The others all wanted to add a dancing bear to it. So many dancing bears, when I just wanted us sitting around a table,' Smith began.

'And the other reason I couldn’t go to mainstream TV is that Willow is not built for that kind of conventional set-up. She can’t be there every episode – she’s a little butterfly,' she said.

'Something comes up and she says, "Ma I got to go to the mountains for a week," and I got to let her go. That’s part of her mental health, she needs freedom. You’ve just got to let her fly.'

5. 90 Day Fiance star Ashley Martson has officially moved on from troublesome Jay Smith with Christian Estrada. Christian is currently on Bachelor in Paradise but his search for love must not have completed since he went on a date with Ashley. Over the weekend, the two went to the most magical place on earth, Disney World, for a super fun date. Will there be more dates in the future for this cross-over reality television couple?

Before he started dating 90 Day Fiance’s Ashley Martson, Christian Estrada was searching for love on this season of Bachelor in Paradise. This week on the show, Christian and Jordan Kimball get into a huge fight, seemingly over Nicole Lopez-Alvar. The fight quickly turns physical when Jordan actually picks up Christian and throws him to the ground. Watch Bachelor in Paradise Monday and Tuesday at 8 on ABC to see their fight play out.

Most 90 Day Fiance fans were relieved when Ashley Martson kicked Jay Smith to the curb. He had been unfaithful to her and was seeing another woman behind her back. But it wasn’t the first time Jay Smith had been caught cheating on her. His bad behavior was going on three days after he and Ashley got married.

Ashley caught him using a dating app of all things. It was hard for her to give up on their relationship, but Jay pushed her to the edge and she filed for divorce in April 2019. Although she had previously filed in January and withdrew it, this time was for real. Jay Smith was even bailed out of jail by another girl, Kayla Ann O’Brien, that started a GoFundMe to raise the money. Jay and Kayla are rumored to be separated because Jay cheated on her.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Encore - part of your world - Harry Hook x reader - part 8 - Uma

---

“Hey (y/n)?” Uma called from her chair at the kitchen island, you turned from the pancakes humming to show you were listening “do you think I could come with you and harry to your world?”

You paused, locking your jaw in thought. “I…I don’t know? I would think you would need an anchor like I do” you gestured to your ruby necklace “because my world doesn’t have magic so you could possibly be in danger while your there?” uma hummed, poking a lone strawberry.

“that’s true, maybe we can call kore and ask her?” you shrugged, flipping Gil’s set of chocolate chip pancakes.

“maybe, KORE!” a swirl of teal, fuschia magic appeared and dissipated, leaving the spring goddess in its place.

“yes?” she asked, eyeing the pile of pancakes in the oven “is the something you need?”

“yep~” you chirped, shoveling Gil’s pancakes into the oven to keep warm “we were wondering if uma needed an anchor to visit my world?”

“well yes” kora muttered, stealing an apple “as she is mostly a magic-based being, unlike harry who isn’t, she would need something withholding magic to keep her energy and life force up, like her shell necklace”

You and uma nodded, uma lifting the necklace from her chest “so I could use this as my anchor?”

Kore nodded, smiling when you finally handed her a plate, giving in to her eyeing the pancakes.

“precisely, now, im going to go enjoy these, I will return the plate”

*poof* in a swirl of smoke she disappeared

You snorted, yelling out to the two still sleeping boys.

“BOYS! BREAKFAST IS READY!” you heard two thumps, the signs of the two taller boys falling off their beds and scrambling to get downstairs if the rapid thumps down the upstairs hallway was a told you anything.

“pancakes!” Gil appeared first, slightly drooling and hair a mess. you opened the oven, piling his five chocolate chip pancakes onto a plate, sliding it onto the counter for him to take.

“thanks (y/n)!”

“no prob”

Harry trudged down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning “morning sleepy head” you teased, he hummed, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your neck, pressing his lips to it.

“mor’nin” he muttered, rubbing his nose into your hair “pancakes?” you sniggered, leaning away from him, scrunching your shoulder and chin together.

“y-yes, st-stap!” harry had realized what he was doing and began to blow raspberries into the crook of your neck. You dissolved into laughter, wriggling about trying to escape his grasp.

“harry staaaaap!!!” you felt him grin as he tightened his grasp on you, beginning to move his fingers against your sides.

“noooooo-aahhhH!!!” you screeched, reaching out to uma who was ignoring you.

“uma halp!!!” she continued to ignore you, eating her pancakes. “ill buy you ice cream!” she locked eyes with you, smirking.

“three scoops, extra hot fudge and caramel and rainbow sprinkles”

“de-deal!!!” uma flung her hand out, pushing harry away form you, letting you catch your breath.

“t-thank you” you were still slightly giggling, one hand on the counter, the other on your stomach

“ice.cream” uma said slowly, you nodded, reaching out your hand and shaking hers.

“yeah yeah, I know, for dessert tonight”

“alrigh’ “ Harry sat up from the floor, grabbing a plate and opening the oven door, naturally extracting two pancakes. “wha’ time do yeh want teh head back love?” harry asked, spreading butter on his food.

“well” you stared, opening your phone and looking at your schedule “auntie put me in for 12-9 today so I guess…10?”

Harry nodded, smiling before it dropped “wha’ are we gonna do about…ye know who?” you sighed, brushing your hair back.

“I don’t know, let's just hope they don’t blurt this out”

“who are you talking about?” uma asked, tilting her head

“Harrys actor..and yours, they found out”

Uma froze “shit it might not be a good idea for me to go with you guys then?” you shook your head.

“nah, China seemed like she wanted to meet you” uma nodded unsure but finished her food and placed her dishes in the sink.

“Alright, imma get dressed, 10 right?”

Both you and Harry nodded.

=

You nervously jumped your leg on the ground, staring at china’s DM’s, wondering if you should message her about uma.

You sighed, she would find out through the paparazzi anyway so.

Hey…its me? (y/n). The girl whos been seen around harry? Any way, uma wanted to come with us and I was wondering if u wanted to meet her?

…..

If ur busy its fine, but was just wondering.

<Seen>

<China is typing>

Dude yesss, meeting my own character!? That would be soo cool

You breathed a sigh of relief, slumping on your bed slightly.

Sweet, so about 1130 well be at my aunt's bakery, if u wanna meet us there?

Sure! See you!

see ya!

You sighed and stood, cracking your neck, grabbing your clothes and house keys, smiling at the blue gemmed key with Harry's initials staring at you.

Tossing it in your bag, you stepped into the bathroom, quickly showering and getting dressed, drying your hair as best you could and making your way downstairs.

Were Gil and Harry already were playing video games.

“fuck ye gil!”

“harry that’s (y/n)s job ew”

“Gil what the fuck that’s nasty!”

“then don’t blue shell me!!”

You shook your head, walking up to behind harry and leaning down, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“you almost ready hook?”

“aye” he muttered, smirking as he passed Gil, who groaned in frustration “on the last lap love”

“kay”

About a minute later, Harry won, cackling as he finished the last lap.

“ahaha! I won, I won!” Gil pouted, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Yeah yeah, whatever!”

“aww,” Harry cooed, pinching Gil’s cheek “you good sunshine boy~”

Gil smacked his hand away, sticking his middle finger up at harry. Who just flipped his right back.

“alright” you patted Harry's shoulders a couple of times, gaining his attention “it's almost 10, let's start heading out.”

Harry nodded, standing and grabbing his black converse, sitting back down to get them on.

“uma! We’re about to head out!”

“got it!” she yelled back, you grabbed your back, fishing your key out and sticking it in the back door lock.

Uma trotted down the stairs, harry moving forward to meet her and allowing her to use him as a steadier as she jumped off the last step.

“Alright let's go!” you turned the key, the portal behind the door opening, light bleeding from behind the door.

You opened the door, letting uma step through first, harry standing at the edge waiting for you.

“see ya gil! Jay, dude, and Carlos are gonna be here soon right?” gil nodded, waving you off,

“yep, see ya!”

You grasped Harry's hand, stepping through and closing the door behind you.

---end of part 8---

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