#''i'll invite you to the wedding i will make you a bridesmaid but you can't be the maid of honor cuz THEN it'll be awkward''

[imaginarydaughterz]

i have to know more about these two women.

#impractical jokers #i'm always on the brunette's side #also if streaming platforms don't stop restricting screenshots soon i'm gonna kill myself #''i'll invite you to the wedding i will make you a bridesmaid but you can't be the maid of honor cuz THEN it'll be awkward''

[smoooothoperator]

What A Shame

01: Red

Driver! Charles Leclerc x Singer! OC (Juliette Morelli)

Exes to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Childhood Sweathearts

Summary: two once lovers see each other again after ten years. Will things go well?

Words: 2.3k

a/n: hello and welcome to my newest fic!!! I really hope everyone enjoys this story since it's the first one I write after a long time!

Every interaction is very welcomed!!!!

Masterlist

next part

Just to get some things clear:

this fic happens on 2030 and there will be some flashbacks of previous years, making Charles be 32 years old

most of the songs I'll be using or make references are from Taylor Swift, and if you want to I could post the playlist I'm listening while I write

🎤

Maid of honor. The most important woman of the bridesmaids, the person that will be there for the bride whenever she needs her. Historically, the maid of honor was the attendant of the a queen in royal households or the most important woman of the house; she was a maiden that never have been married and a virgin. A woman that could be there for someone superior or more important for her.

When you have years of experience being the maid of honor, supporting and helping your friends on their most important day, you get used to the term. It's easy to joke and laugh about it, to ignore the ache on the chest when friends ask one more time to be their maid of honor.

"You should work as a wedding planner" the parents of the bride use to tell me, patting my back and congratulating me for my great job.

"Too bad I'm a singer, huh?" I use to answer them with a smile, hiding the pain of their words.

They never ask why I'm always the maid of honor. Why I'm always there for their daughters, making sure everything is perfect and ready for them, telling always the same line after my speech.

"With love, Juliette: always the maid of honor but never the bride" I use to say, turning off the mic and smiling at my friends, hearing laughs and people clapping, not knowing that it hurts admitting to myself that I'll never be on that spot of the table wearing a dress that makes me look like a princess.

So, when Valerie didn't ask me to be her maid of honor, it took me for surprise. Valerie was always by my side when he left me, giving me her shoulder to cry and her spare room to stay when I needed it. Valerie was like a sister for me, someone I would say yes no matter what she asked me to do.

"I know you hate it" she sighed. "I won't torture you, I know you always joke about that but deep inside you are in pain. I won't put you on that position ever again. But I want you to be there on my wedding"

How could I say no? She's my best friend and actually the first person that took that tag of the maid of honor off of me.

"I want you to be happy, Juliette" she sighed.

"You know I can't " I sighed looking at my hands. "He hurt me and there's no way I can get out of that whole"

"You can, you know you can and you will" she said sure if herself, like making a promise. "I heard Pierre will invite some of his friends, I bet you'll find someone out there"

Pierre Gasly, Valerie's boyfriend for many years and nod her fiance. He's a known racing driver for some years now, being famous and all it comes with that. The wedding will be an important event, media wants to know every small detail of it and share it to the world. Now it makes sense why Valerie didn't ask me to be the maid of honor.

But I was with her all the time, dreaming, looking at her trying all those white dresses and wishing it was me for once, trying the cakes with her on our sleepovers and wishing to have someone cutting the cake with me, looking at the pictures she sent me of the flowers and imagining myself holding them when walking to the aisle.

I wished, again, that I was the bride.

The wedding was coming, looking now at the calendar it was closer than I thought it was going to be, making me search for a dress desperately, not wanting to use of of those dresses I used as a maid of honor.

"Wear something simple" Valerie said sitting on my bed. "Maybe one of those satin dresses you like"

"But that's too simple" I frowned. "It's your wedding, Val"

"I don't care, Juliette" she said smiling, shaking her head. "Plus, you look amazing on those dresses. The red one you wore on that charity gala last month was amazing, you could wear it on the rehearsal dinner"

"But what about the actual wedding!"

Finding a dress was harder than I thought. As the maid of honor I had to wear the dress the bride wanted, but now I could choose whatever I wanted to wear.

"Hey, hey, relax. Just... Relax, okay? Just wear something you feel comfortable with" she said trying to calm me.

So yeah, I did what she asked. I bought a dress on a random shop, something I could wear with the most comfortable heels I had on the wardrobe, and put everything I needed on a suitcase.

Valerie and Pierre were going to do their wedding on a nice villa, with vineyards and all the luxury you can imagine when both of them have lots of money, and since his family is religious they will do the wedding on the cozy church of the village with a small group of close friends and family.

The dinner rehearsal will be there on the villa, making sure that the next day everything will be ready and will work smoothly.

The red dress was hanging on the door of the closet, brighter than ever. I used to like red, he made me love it. It was his dream since he was a child, watching the red cars drive under his balcony around the streets of Monaco, and imagining that once he was older he would drive one of those.

"I'll be your Michael and you'll be my Corinna!" he used to say while we sat next to each other on the floor as kids, watching the TV and how Michael Schumacher won those races with his red Ferrari.

Using red after him felt like a punishment, a self torture. How can I be so stupid? So weak to not move on and we drowned on self pity?

I took a deep breath, taking off the silk robe and getting dressed while looking at myself on the mirror.

"Come on, why can't you be with someone?" I said to the reflection of myself. "You are freaking Juliette Morelli, a well known singer! You fucked with freaking Shawn Mendes and the Sebastian Stan flirted with you! You can do better than him"

At this point I was too desperate to forget him. I needed to stop thinking about him, it happened nearly ten years ago. How can I be so stupid and still not move out?

But still... It feels like if that happened yesterday.

"I'm sorry, Juliette" he said suddenly after he sat on the couch of the livingroom. "This isn't working anymore, I need to focus on my job and you are distracting me. It was funny while it lasted. I wish your career goes good as well"

I can do better than him, a stupid driver.

When I walked out of the room, with the purse hanging on my shoulder, the hair down and the red dress hugging my body, I felt confident. I knew I can get over him.

"Wow, Juliette!" Valerie gasped when she saw me walk inside the big room with some of the important guests. "I told you that dress looked amazing on you. Red has always been your color"

"You are right" I smile, somehow sure of myself, believing my own words. "It looks better on me"

🏎️

The moment Pierre asked me to be his best man I didn't waste any second to say yes. Even if I knew that he wanted another person to be his best man, someone that is not longer with us, I said yes immediately.

"I know what you are thinking" Pierre sighed patting my back. "He'll be with me there, but I need my best friend right now and I need it that day too. Tonio would be so glad that you'll be there for me"

"I know, but..." I sighed, taking a deep breath. "I'll go, I promise you I'll be there. But right now I just realized that it's only you and I that's left from that group of innocent kids that only wanted to drive and have fun"

"Come on dude, don't talk like if Esteban is dead!" Pierre laughed. "We have arguments, we're no longer friends... but he was on the pictures too and he's still in this world"

"You idiot" I laughed rolling my eyes.

My best friend is going to get married. He's still with the girl he met when he finished high school and now they will spend the rest of their lives together, form a family.

I promised that to someone long time ago. I promised that I would be there for her and that I'll let her be there for me.

"You know, Valerie asked her to sing" Pierre sighed iling weakly at me.

"Huh? Who?" I frown, being taken out of my thoughts.

"You know who" he sighed.

"Oh... That's cool" I nodded. "Cool, cool, cool, cool... Yeah, all cool"

"When was the last time you saw her?" he sighed closing his eyes.

"You know the answer of that" I said looking down at my lap.

The last time I saw her I tried to not look at her. I walked inside her apartment and stayed there for less than five minutes, hearing her heart break and walking out of it before she talked. I had to be heartless, leave for her and my own good.

"You are so coward, dude" he sighed shaking his head in disapproval.

"I did what I had to do" I frowned looking at him. "Plus, her own career was starting to grow and I couldn't be distracted because of her"

I saw Pierre shaking his head disappointed, patting my back and walking away. I already know what he's thinking, that I shouldn't let her go.

I still remember how I felt when I walked out of her apartment, how the tears were blurrying my eyes and I had to take a deep breath and wait an hour to start driving to my own apartment. I still remember how I felt when I heard the song that made her fame grow, those three letters of the title laughing at me knowing damn well that she wrote that song pouring all her heard on it.

The next months of preparations of Pierre's wedding were intense. The season was still going on, since he planned getting married on our summer break in August, so we had to plan everything on the time we had free, making it easy for us since we spent most of the time together.

It was only the week before his wedding when her name came to my mind.

Juliette Morelli. Valerie's best friend. And my ex.

Pierre told me she was going to sing on their first dance, that she was going to be at the dinner rehearsal and that she was going to stay in the villa the whole weekend.

"You just have to not go on her way" I said talking to myself in the mirror on my own room of the villa. "Try to ignore her. Maybe after all this years she won't recognize me, right? Yeah, yeah, she won't recognize me"

I have to focus on the rehearsal. I need to work along side with Valerie's sister to coordinate everything and make sure that the flower girl is comfortable and I have to make sure that I don't lose the rings. Easy peasy.

But that focus slipped away from my mind the moment I walked inside the big room, with a small group of guests, and I saw a red dress.

But what unfocused me wasn't the dress. Was who was wearing it.

"Oh, I finally found you" Pierre said and looked at me, then who I was looking at. "And you found her"

"Does she know I'm here?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of her.

She's so much more beautiful than before. More mature. Oh God, how much I missed her laugh, how she played with her hair when she was feeling comfortable and relaxed.

"Earth to Charles" Pierre said nervous. "Come on dude, this is about to start and you are just staring to your ex. That's creepy, by the way"

"Shut up, mate!" I exclaimed, shutting him up covering his mouth with my hand. "Don't you dare to tell her I'm here. I'll make sure that she never sees me and in that way none of us will know about the other this whole weekend. Okay?"

Pierre nodded and then I let him go, looking at him carefully.

Juliette can't know that I'm here, I'm not ready to talk with her. After all those years I'm not ready to face her and even hear her voice, even if all this time I have heard her songs.

"Come on, everything is going to start" Valerie's sister came towards me, taking me out of my thoughts.

I nodded and took a deep breath, standing in my position and looking at the door, ignoring the need of searching that red dress between the people that was there. I can't look at her, I really can't.

But then I heard it. A gasp. And not of Pierre looking how Valerie walked towards him practicing how she will do it tomorrow, not the parents of the flower girl walking in with her little basket and doing like if she threw petals.

No. The person that gasped was the person I wanted to avoid. The one I hurt the most in this room. The one that right now is standing and walking out of the room, the red dress walking out of the room.

"Good job trying to avoid her, Leclerc" Pierre whispered looking back at me. "Another one of your plans working perfectly bad"

#f1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 serie #formula 1 fic #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

[holdmytesseract]

The Baby Fever Wedding...

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th

Baby Fever Crew and fellow readers... It's time to assemble, because I'm searching for some helpers, who are interested in becoming my fellow wedding planner!

Huge thanks to @muddyorbsblr ! She helps me coordinate all this a lil' bit and is my right-hand woman. 💖 Also, kudos to @lokisgoodgirl , who gave me the idea to do little tasks. (I know, it's been months ago since we talked about this, but nevertheless... Thank you, friend!) 🩵

And this is how it works...

How to participate...

If you are interested and want to sign up to this, just leave a comment on this post. That's all!

How do I choose my helpers?

That depends. I have 14 tasks. If just enough people sign up for this (not more or less than 14), you'll definitely be chosen. If more people want to participate, I'm going to put all names in a pot and randomly draw 14 names, so a bit of luck is needed.

What awaits you if you get chosen...

I'm going to give you a little task, in order to help me organize Y/N's and Loki's wedding. For example: Design the wedding rings or choose the flowers. You have enough time to think about it and tell me what you want. I am going to write it.

Rules & Other information...

Please only comment once. Makes things easier for me.

Please be patient. This is a huge project for me and I never did something like this before, so...

You are allowed to name two tasks in your comments, which you'd like to be assigned with. I can't promise that it's going to work out for you, but I'll try to have consideration for it!

Example: @ holdmytesseract Wedding rings & flowers

You have three days to sign up, so no pressure!

If you have questions, please send me an ask or a DM! Don't be shy!

And these are the tasks...

Design the wedding rings!

Choose Y/N's wedding dress, shoes and jewelry!

How should Loki's suit look like?

And how his armour?

Their hairstyle. (Do they need a new hairstyle or even a haircut?)

Y/N's bridesmaids (Natasha, Wanda, Pepper & Jane) are in need of dresses, too!

Loki's best man (Thor, of course.) needs a suit and armour, too.

Since the wedding takes place on Asgard, we need a few Midgardian pre-wedding/wedding traditions, too!

Flowers are a must have!

Create the invitations for the wedding!

A cake will be needed as well!

Where on Asgard takes the ceremony place and where the festives? We also need some decoration, right? (I feel like this is a two-man task!)

One of the most important things... Music! Do we have a DJ perhaps?

I'm in need of a entertainment department as well! Do they play party/wedding games? Karaoke? Are there Asgardian wedding games? Something entirely else? (I think this is a two-man task as well!)

I think that's it. I hope I didn't forget anything... Well, with that being said... Let's start this! I'm beyond excited!

Tagging the Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokisrealpurpous

#the baby fever au wedding #the baby fever au #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[aritany]

sorry to be nosy, but do u have any insights as someone who went through a divorce at a young age?

don't be sorry - what a fascinating question! it's STORYTIME. i don't know if this is so much my 'insights' as it is ruminations, but i digress.

i guess my number one tip would be: don't marry a bigot,,,

i'm kidding. mostly.

i'm very transparent about why i got divorced (if you know me in real life, you know how true this is), but that's what it boiled down to. i got married VERY young, 95% due to deeply religious family on both sides, 5% because i truly believed i had found the person i was going to be with forever. if you're going to be together forever, why not just bite the bullet and get married young, right?

i came out to my ex-husband as bisexual super early on in our relationship (i think 2 months into dating) because i obviously needed him to a) know i was queer and b) be cool about it, and he was. if i recall, he said, "oh. ok, good for you."

(later, he told me that that moment was almost a dealbreaker for him. i NEVER would have known, based on how he reacted in the moment.)

as a married couple, we were awesome roommates and very good friends and overall a wonderful team. then i started properly deconstructing christianity around the same time i started thinking about gender, and covid hit immediately after. i didn't come out to anyone as nonbinary until march 2021, and when i did, he was the first person i talked to. he was... significantly less cool about it than he was with bisexuality.

here's the thing. he LOVED having a wife. in hindsight, it's really easy to see that i could have been anyone, and he was really ready to settle down. i have to give myself some credit, because i think i'm excellent, but i do think that to some extent i was in the right place at the right time and checked off a lot of his boxes. if that sounds a little cold to you -- a SHOCKING amount of cishet men do this. it's weird.

anyway, i was His Wife™, and while i was by no means a traditional christian wife, i was still a very she/her slay queen girly.

then i started committing sins. (got some tattoos. started writing about The Gays. started speaking out against the church. Cut My Hair Short [cue gasps]. started dressing more androgynously.)

he couldn't get his head around using gender neutral language for me. to his students (he was in education at the time) i was His Wife. to his family, i was His Wife, even after i came out to them too. classic wifeguy stuff.

my current partner (who is SO wonderful) was in the process of becoming that best friend you have really confusing gay feelings about, and had to deal with me talking about this and how i was just going to have to settle for being with this guy who wouldn't respect my gender, even when that disrespect started actually making my skin crawl when he'd get close. because hey, marriage is for life. it didn't even occur to me that we might get divorced until about 4 days before The Conversation. i was genuinely ready to stick it out with this guy who refused to really See me, because i thought that was what i had to do.

then came The Conversation. i'd been invited to be a bridesmaid in his sister's wedding and had agreed to wear a dress, because hey, it's her wedding. if she wants bridesmaids in dresses, sure. (i was still very much reeling from my own wedding, but that's another story i'll tell if anyone's curious.)

anyway. dresses. i go to a fitting. i stand there numbly while wearing the most godawful dress i'd ever seen, feeling like Garbage. i go home. i step in the door, i burst into tears. sobbing, on the couch, i tell him that something's not right. i can't wear a dress to this wedding.

i think that was when he realized i wasn't going to grow out of being nonbinary. we had a really long, brutal conversation, mostly about how i was probably going to want top surgery one day, that ultimately resulted in him ending our marriage.

"i can't make you be somebody you're not," he told me. "but you can't make me attracted to you."

that's right, folks! the thing that ended my marriage was my tits.

we'd sat through and endured many conversations in which i shared my feelings about the church, about christianity, about the patriarchy, about gender as a whole, but in the end, the thing he could not get his head around was a version of me that didn't have a chest.

i won't lie, that shit stung. the constant rejection of my gender expression had sort of eroded any romantic love i felt for him at that point, but he'd been my closest confidant for so long by that point that i really had to work through some shit about worthiness in the weeks after. it was just surreal to me that me With tits was good and worth being married to, but a hypothetical version of me with a flat chest was so repulsive that he'd rather end a marriage than endure it.

and like, i get being a boob guy (trust me), but damn.

p.s. some really interesting notes: he waited to have this conversation with me until literally the week after i received the first 5-figure portion of my book deal advance, which meant when we were settling affairs, it counted as "marital income" and he got half, and then he hired lawyers behind my back after we said we wouldn't do that.

in hindsight? maybe it was never about the tits at all. ;)

#alex talks #storytime #divorce #storytime with alex #personal #asks #i love talking about the bullshit that happens in my personal life it's very fun to me #if anyone else has questions about this or anything else u know where my inbox is babey #full disclosure? getting over him was EZ and genuinely took about 4 minutes. getting over my PARENTS? holy fuck #(they didn't take the divorce Or the gender very well)

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Just for the Weekend 8/10

Summary: You and Jason go to a wedding.

Pairs: Reader x Jason Todd

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Fluff, swearing.

Part 7

Jason and yourself take your seats to the left of the makeshift altar. Your eyes sweep over the large garden adorned in even more flowers, twinkling lights and golden ribbons than you knew possible. The afternoon sun streams through the palm trees that Jamie and Sunny have chosen for their backdrop and as the western wind blows through you can almost feel the magic in the air. Weddings are always like this, you think, full of magic and love.

Jason's arm rests naturally around the back of your chair. Your brain is still going over the last few minutes, the kiss, the casual way he held your hand as you walked down to the garden. It's a lot to process, but you don’t want to ruin it by talking about it or over thinking. So instead you clasp your hands together and wish that the weekend would never end.

The chatter of the other guests quiets down as the celebrant announces that the bride will be arriving soon. Jamie spots you in the crowd, looking so happy in the dress they’ve chosen, the dark, deep forest green almost black against the sun, the crisp white shoes peeking from underneath. You give them a big thumbs up, noticing the tears already forming in their eyes as the pianist starts to play a slower version of "this is what dreams are made of".

The bridesmaids all look lovely in their soft lilac gowns of all different styles, the large sunflower bouquets with colourful wildflowers woven through, they look like a trail of beautiful fairies. The pianist rounds the chorus and you start to weep at the sight of Sunny. Her golden dress glitters with every step she takes, a large pointed tiara on her head, her hair held in soft waves behind her, she looks every bit the fairy queen of the procession. Peering back at Jamie you see they're full on crying at how etheral Sunny is.

"Here," Jason says, pulling out his pocket square and handing it to you, "don't want to ruin the makeup."

You give him a small smile, dabbing under your eyes and taking his hand in your free one, giving him a little squeeze, "Thanks for coming," you whisper.

Leaning over to press a kiss into your hair he whispers, "best decision of my life."

The ceremony is short, Jamie and Sunny exchange vows and suddenly they're walking down the aisle and inviting everyone to cocktail hour while they have their pictures taken.

"I'm just going to go touch up my face," you excuse yourself, "will you be ok by yourself?" finding yourself in need of a minute to compose yourself. You have so many questions for him, for yourself. At the very least you need to wipe the dopey ass smile from your face. You can’t seem to shake it, can’t stop hearing those words he whispered in your ear.

"Yeah, I'll go find Margie. She was great. Wait," he says as you start to walk off. "I forgot," he kisses you, a short simple peck on the lips but it makes your tummy do somersaults.

Jason spots Margie almost immediately, her bright pink suit giving her away almost as much as her height. She's at a table alone, drinking what looks to be sangria, "bit sad to drink alone at a wedding don't you think?" He asks, taking the seat opposite her.

"On the contrary, keeps me out of trouble." She smirks, downing the whole glass and pouring herself and Jason another. "Drink with me then, tell me about how you managed to sweep my little dear off her feet."

"I was actually wondering if I could ask you something," he takes a drink and relishes the sweetness.

"Want more stories about her rambunctious youth?"

"I would like to know what he, Jonathan, said to her last night,"

"Want to go hit him yourself?"

"Something like that,"

"No need for that, she defended you well."

"What?"

"She didn't tell you? Oh, he was saying terrible things, but our little spitfire wasn't having it."

"Wait what?" He can't seem to wrap his head around it. You hit…you hit the guy because of him?

"Poor dear, she lets him say the worst things about her, but the second he started on you," She pauses, "well you saw what happened."

"I thought she- that he-"

"She really loves you, ya know, I can see it in the way she looks at you."

"I- "

"You're very lucky, she's a special kind of woman."

"That I do know," he agrees, finally hearing something that doesn't sound insane. Why would you do that?

"Now be a good lad and go get me more sangria."

"Yes ma'am."

Jason's mind spins as he goes over what he just heard. So you did it to defend him and not yourself. He can barely believe that anyone would care, but then she said… was it true? Did you love him? Until yesterday you could barely stand to be in the room with him.

Then there was the kiss, that kiss on the balcony that made his stomach spin and his knees go weak. And the little kiss before, he can barely believe this is happening. He's not going to screw this up. He can't. Shit, after a few kisses he doesn't think he can go a day without feeling your lips on his ever again.

"Hello there handsome," you say, grabbing the glasses from the bar, "Margie already got you doing her evil bidding I see,"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He answers, looking at you kind of weird, in a good way. Like he's got stars on his eyes.

"Sangria, always was her drink of choice."

Xxx

"Can you see my name?" You say as you peer at the seating chart.

"Yeah, right here. It says second prettiest woman at the wedding,"

"Second?"

"Well, the bride obviously has to be first," he jokes.

"Thin ice, Todd. You're on thin ice," you playfully glare at him. His hand falls to your lower back as you walk to your table. You try not to think about how right this feels, how perfect he feels beside you. Instead zoning in on the small table which is obviously designated as the old school friends table. You thank Batman that Jonathan was sent home, you do not want to deal with him.

"Can I ask a favour?" Claire says as she sits down next to you, "just while Lizzie is fixing her hair?"

"Depends on the favour," you can see Jason from the corner of your eye peering around you. Is he worried that maybe this will be round two? Sure, you were a bit envious, or a lot. But you had never felt the urge to hit her. The issues you have with Claire have nothing to do with her and everything to do with you and your own expectations.

"Could you sign this for me?" She pulls out from her purse a copy of your first book, "I've been meaning to ask for ages. But we just never seem to bump into each other."

"I didn't know you read my book,"

"I tried, but romance really isn't for me. Lizzie though, she loves them and it would really mean alot-"

"Give it here, have you got a pen?"

"Yeah," she hands you a golden marker from her purse, "I know it's not a great time to ask, but I really appreciate it. She’s going to be thrilled."

"It's really no trouble, " you smile signing the interior cover, "Dear Liz, I hope Claire brings you as much joy as Red brought me,"

"Thank you, she's really going to love this," she grins like a kid in a candy store. "It really means a lot,"

"You're welcome," you beam back. Never in a million years would you have imagined that Liz of all people would be a fan. She's never said anything, though you suppose with avoiding them at all costs you probably didn't deserve to know. A nudge on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, "yes?" You turn to Jason who's just looking at you with confusion and wonder, "why are you looking at me like that?”

"Red? I thought your first book was about Finnley and Felix? "

"How do you know that?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"I told you, I dabbled. I may have read one or two of your books, "

"One or two? But you know the names of the two love interests by heart?"

"Maybe, I read them more than once,"

"You did not,"

"Enough about me," Jason attempts to change the subject. You did not need to know that he had read all your works, except one apparently, "Who's this Red? And how is there a book before The Prince Problem?"

"Oh, that's the official first. But The Red Viper is my first unofficial book. I published it myself in college under a pseudonym. I just wanted to see how it would go. It sold pretty well, I just didn't think any of my friends aside from Jamie had read it."

"Then how did she know it was you?"

"Easy, I released free coupons for copies in my newsletter a few years ago, Liz must be on my mailing list.”

“Free?”

“Yeah, I do that sometimes. There’s no point charging for something like that."

"A huh, and has Dick read this book?"

"Jason, are you telling me you think Dick can read?"

"Good point,"

The night drifts on, speeches are told, cakes cut and dinner eaten. All the while Jason sits close, both of you touching, your knees, your hands, your shoulders, always touching. It's easy and it doesn't even feel fake anymore. Not that it ever really did to you.

The band picks up after the newlyweds first dance and the lead singer invites everyone to the dance floor. You feel reluctant, but with how pleasant the conversation has been between Claire, Liz, Jason and yourself, your mood has gone from nervous to joyful.

The band starts to play your favourite song and you find yourself tugging Jason onto the dance floor behind you.

He's certainly not his brother when it comes to dancing, but he manages to keep up with you. His hand never leaving your waist as you move to the music together. “What kind of move do you call that?” you ask when he starts twirling his arms around.

“Whirlybird?’ he laughs back, grabbing your arms and spinning them above your head, “Might not look cool, but it’s fun,”

His hands slide down your arms, taking your wrists and wrapping them around his neck as you stay to sway together.

“You know you’re a lot more fun,” you start when he spins you under his arm, “when you don’t spend your days glaring at me,”

“And you’re more fun when you don’t run away from every room I enter,”

“I never did that,” he stares down at you, “ok, maybe once or twice,” he raises his eyebrows, “Or a few times,” you press your hand on his chest, “in my defense, you did stare at me like I was robbing you.”

“You were,”

“I was not trying to steal your brother,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh love,” he brushes his nose against yours, “You were stealing something much more valuable than my big brother,”

“Oh yeah like what?” you tease, “Your bike?”

“Sweetheart,” he leans down, “You wouldn’t be fast enough to take her,” his breath in your ear, “And you still don’t know how to ride,”

“Fair. Maybe I can get Dick to teach me when I get home?” the choking noise that comes from Jason's throat makes you snort, “What? He’s been asking for ages,” you wink coyly, drawing yourself from his hands and giggling when he turns you back in.

“Let me teach you,” his hand slides up from your back, his fingers brushing up the back of your neck,

“You going to glare at me while you do it?”

“Only if you run away,”

“Will you chase me?”

“Would you like me to chase you?” his fingers push into the soft skin of your neck tilting your head up.

“Maybe,” you reach up onto your tiptoes, grinning from ear to ear, your lips touching his. His hand grows firmer on your neck, deepening your kiss, you wrap your arms tight around his back.

“That a shiver there love?” he laughs into your kiss, his other arm wraps around your waist, “Do it again,” he hoists you up, your feet dangling above the floor as he kisses you again.

The night gets later and despite how drunk everyone around you seems to be getting, you and Jason are too busy enjoying yourselves on the dance floor to have the time. "Last song," the singer announces, "how about something a bit slower?"

The band starts out slow and you hear the man's voice lower as he starts to sing Adele's make you feel my love.

Jason pulls you close, his hand holding tight on your waist, bringing yours up to his shoulder, "wanna see what Alfie taught me?" He winks and you give him a small nod, "follow my lead,"

He steps back, gliding you along the dance floor, his eyes never leaving yours and a bright smile on his lips. The hot and horny feelings leave you as you feel something deeper and stronger pulling at your chest. Like a string being tugged from your heart and wrapping around where your hands meet, connecting you both together. The world melts away as you get lost in his eyes and the feel of his strong hand on your back.

“Spin,” he says, stretching your arm out as the song reaches it crescendo and you spin out, your dress fanning out around you and when your back in his arms he drops you into a deep dip, his large hand on your thigh, his full form leaning over to meet your lips, his tongue dives into your mouth and you think you might just feel whole for the first time in your life.

Part 8:

AN: Last update for a bit. I'm off to Sydney to hang out with my fam.

Taglist:

@goblinhobo @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hungry-hungarian @megumisbabymomma @ilikw @gone-batty-fics

#reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #x reader #jason todd #reader x red hood #red hood x reader

[senditcolton]

🐝 any intel on that mikko/jt threesome fic idea? 👀

how about I give you both? because, why not?? 🐝🤍

🔥Unnamed Depravity🔥

This time, I can at least give you the *vibes*. Mikko is the one in charge; not all the way dominant but he makes it clear that you are his girl (I have a rough dialogue idea of him telling you, “Your first orgasm is mine”). Whereas JT is more passive; not submissive but he lets you and Mikko guide him. He knows this is a once in a lifetime opportunity so he’s careful not to step over any lines but he’s also attentive because, since it is a one-time thing, he wants it to be good.

💔We’re A Bad Idea (4)💔

I – once again – only have ‘stage directions’ so I'll give the rough, non-spoiler outline. A year after leaving for LA, you are back in the city to be a bridesmaid in your brother Scotty’s wedding. And who else would be invited to the wedding but Matt Martin? It's unfortunate and unavoidable but you still try to avoid him for as long as you could. But you can't avoid him forever and when you do reconnect, Matt seems… sad? Regretful? Whatever it is, he makes it clear that the power is in your hands. It’s your choice to talk to him. It’s your choice to dance with him. It’s your choice to take him up on his offer to walk – and only walk – you back to your hotel room. And if you let him back into your bed for this one night… that’s your choice too.

#health & happiness celly

[sburbanrelapse]

i held an apple in my hands and dreamed it a heart

it's not your fault. never really was. you've never asked for any of my adulation, not a lick of my obsession. i sit here dancing on telephone poles and choking myself to death in power lines and you're supposed to take responsibility for the hanging corpse gently swaying in the breeze? no, no; you were innocent. you were under no duress, no pressure. you made the best choice you could

and i'm happy

because if i set aside my all-too-characteristic trepidation for a second i can tell you'll be happy, too

but i was born with a void in my stomach i only ever filled by weaponizing you. and so now i'm left with nothing but this gnawing, crushing misery, that hollows me out as if with a spoon. scraping, scraping, scraping away at my cilia, at my flesh, at my bones

want to know something awful? does it matter, if you do? i've trampled all over you with my presumptions already, anyways, one more can't hurt

every foghorn in my mind screams that none of this will work for you. calling out that it's too soon, too quick. that all this is being made under too much duress. your boyfriend made a group chat just to worry about you and he's so close to the brink of a mental breakdown it'd be tragic if i wasn't a monster who didn't care even a lick about him. he can't handle this, those traitorous speakers whisper into my ear, blaring at a hundred sixty decibels. he's already falling apart. he's already sacrificing his other relationship for you. all this is doing is keeping the cage around him shut tight

i'm smarter than the foghorns, luckily. i know that he loves you. that you love him. that nothing else matters, but that. that i should check to see if i can get a bridesmaid's dress in black

if you aren't fiances, frankly, you might as well be. his parents may as well be yours by now, given the job your father's so steadfastly failed at. he's as much a home to you as you are to me, and you've seen how i act around you. want to go ring shopping? there's pop-up jewelers all over the streets here, i know a place if you want to sign all that away, away, leave me behind as you finally embrace that light you'd shown me

maybe it'll be too quick. maybe it'll hurt. i'll try not to say it's good if it does

christ, look at me. you're inviting this into your house tomorrow? all this? this ruined, thorned wreck of a woman who can't make up her mind as to whether she wants the best for you or the very worst, who aided and abetted the revelation that's blinded you instead of waiting for it to shatter you naturally, this crying, desperate girl begging you not to leave her when you have to go out for groceries for an hour? terrible. why? why do you tolerate me at all?

why do you care about me?

why do you like me?

why do you love me?

i should have talked to you sooner. immediately after that campaign. i was already intrigued by you then. i could have coaxed you out of your shell, instead of the other way around. i could have wormed my way into your life like a parasite so much sooner. we could have been together, by now. and you'd be straining against the stitches waking up every day and wondering why you felt like dying just that little bit more

all i had were the mad fantasies of a gibbering fool, all along. you don't like women that way. even if you did, you'd never like me. i'm so resolutely not your type you'd catch frostbite in seconds. but,

but i wish,

god, i don't even know why, i know it's not going to amount to anything, i hope,

i pray,

i wait for the day you get married to him. what was it i said, earlier? i can handle planning your wedding, but not your funeral? i stand by that. so i wait. think about what i'd do to make that day all the more special for you. wonder how many amaryllis flowers are too much, too tacky

and when you walk down the aisle, hand in hand,

i'll be sitting there, radiant in my delusions, waiting for you to leave him there and take me with you

i'm so sick. bring me a bucket? i want to vomit all this out.

#kicking it in the asylum #a normal and healthy amount of love expressed in a safe and adroit manner #poetry for broken little girls with cracked porcelain faces

[hermo-dactylus]

I think we need to shed more light on how fucked normie american society's wedding expectations are. These past 6 months have been absolute hell on earth for me. I've fallen down into the deepest depression I've ever had, my PD has gotten so bad where I'm basically having an attack every day, my room is a mess because I have no life outside of work and planning and I'm too overwhelmed, I'm losing weight, my hair is falling out, my face is covered in stress acne, i literally can't go 💩 bc I'm so stressed, i have absolutely no appetite.

Don't let anyone push you into some dumb and expensive wedding for literally a couple hours of your life. Getting eloped or court married is not "the wrong way". The modern wedding industry and wedding culture in America is a giant money sucking vampire that needs to be kissed by a wooden stake a thousand times.

I have to babysit a large group of people (most of which are my massive family and didn't have a say in inviting or not) and make sure they don't get "offended" that our ceremony is polytheist, that we have (god forbid!!) Lebanese food (ofc included vegan, vegetarian, and gluten free options but it's not hotdogs and BBQ so), no garter toss, etc. I have been getting shit from my entire family the whole way, yes they are technically working their asses off with me but that doesn't negate the fact that I've been fighting them the whole time and it adds a significant amount of stress to my life.

I can't talk to my grandma anymore without me going into an anxiety attack bc just talking about wedding stuff triggers me. I also hate the social obligations- i got yelled at for talking to a friend i haven't seen in 5y at my bridal shower and my mom is hyping me up saying I'm going to be talking to so many people i won't be able to eat, yeah no lol. After all of this i don't want to speak to another person besides fiance again for the next 600 years.

There's also so many god damn extra costs like I'm already sacrificing my sanity and my life force energy and my money for this whole function and you're telling me i need to pay all of my bridesmaids and get them gifts?? NO! I have to spend extra money on food for people that don't like Lebanese? NO! I have to get "real" favors? NO! I don't care about being a "bridezilla" at this point I'm so done.

I wish i could go back in time and badger my fiance into letting us elope bc i remember bringing it up a bunch when we first got engaged and he told me he would feel bad if we "didn't do it the right way" prime example of how society grooms people's expectations of what's "right" and what's "improper" now we're both reaping bc I'm stressed as a cat in a rocking chair factory and he feels super guilty about not being here bc we're LD. Mega regret was had on both sides.

This is basically a giant rant and i honestly have zero excitement for my wedding next Saturday. I just want it to be over at this point. I think I'll be more excited the week after the wedding honestly bc that's when we move in together and get to do all the fun stuff like decorate and cook together.

End of rant and if you made it this far ily 💕

#tw mental health #tw panic attacks #tw anxiety #wedding planning #wedding culture #rant #a giant rant

[sissybridewearwhite]

Planning a wedding means there's no shortage of bridal magazines laying around; old or new... my fiancee doesn't mind. She's just soaking up all the ideas she can whilst she plans our perfect day. But I have had to put my foot down a couple of times, when she's had an outlandish idea.

"What the fuck is that?!" I exclaimed, noticing the horrendous outfit on the cover of the Confetti magazine.

"A pageboy." she told me.

"He's wearing tights!" I stated, before querying that it is a boy.

"Course he's a boy. That's how pageboys dress these days."

"You're not thinking of dressing Michael like that are you?"

"Not exactly like that." she said.

"He won't want to wear anything remotely like that." I stated.

"Well it's not his wedding." she retorted. "It's ours and I want it to be perfect." she said, pecking me on the cheek.

"So do I darling but... pageboys usually just wear a suit."

"You're so stuck in last century." she teased. "And he is wearing a suit." she added, turning her eyes to the magazine.

"And tights, and a blouse." I stated, peering a little more closely. "Has he got make-up on too?"

"Just a touch." she told me. "I love his shoes. It's a pity you can't see them properly."

"Are they heels!?"

"I think so. I like the lacy laces."

"Michael won't." I stated.

"It's not Michael's wedding." she reiterated. "Anyway he'd have worn heels if you'd have let him be a bridesmaid." she said. "And it was your idea that he be the pageboy instead." she reminded me. "I thought at twelve-and-a-half he was too old but you said that most pageboys are aged between ten and thirteen these days."

"Yes but not dressed like that!" I retorted. "Pageboys just wear a suit. A normal men's suit... like I'll be wearing."

"Not these days." she insisted. "I thought you'd been reading all about it?"

"No it was on Woman's Hour... I was only half listening and picked up on the bit when they were talking about how the pageboy used to be young... five or seven years old tops." I recalled. "But now the boys in that age group are flowerboys or bridesmaids these days... and the new pageboy is older; a tween or young teen."

"Yes. I listened to it too." she concurred. "So you missed the bit about how the pageboy suit has evolved?"

"Erm... I heard the bit about them wearing a boy's suit, unlike the flowerboy or the boys unfortunate enough to be a bridesmaid." I told her. "Or BoB." I added, smirking a little. She grinned. I mansplained the acronym, but of course she already knew that 'BoB' means the Brother-Of-the-Bride.

"So... did you listen to the bit about the girl's influence?" she quizzed. 

"Well. yeah... boys can be bridesmaids these days, flowerboys wear dresses and poor old BoB has to wear either a bridesmaid's dress or a dress to match his mother's." I grimaced. "The girl's influence put boys in dresses." I surmised.

"Erm... not quite, but anyway..." she said. "Did you listen to the bit about the girl's influence on the pageboy suit?" she specified. I shook my head. As mentioned, I was only half listening to Woman's Hour. My main concern that day was talking her out of wanting my son (from the previous marriage) to be one of the bridesmaids. I'm glad that wasn't the thing when I was a kid, I mused, wondering how awful it must be to be invited into the bridal party. I can vaguely recall being a six year old page boy, and I wore a suit... a normal long pants, smart shirt, waistcoat and jacket type suit. "Are you listening?!" she snarked.

"Sorry... yes... erm... no... sorry... I was miles away."

"Oh it doesn't matter."

"No, tell me." I insisted, apologising for not paying attention the first time. In a nutshell, she told me that a few decades ago, pageboys were largely forgotten in favour of the ringbearer. Then the page was invented, that being a girl acting as the pageboy. The page was often older than the traditional pageboy and being a girl, the traditional elegant Fauntleroy suit saw a sudden resurgence that was soon followed by a speedy reinvention. Taking influences from the super cute Lolita style, along with Kawaii, Ouji and Victoriana, the pageboy suit got short, and frilly, and flouncy. Mary Jane's with cute anklets, knee high pop-sox or white wispy tights were essential with the popular 'pumpkin' shorts or longer knickerbockers. Their blouses were trimmed with lace and full of frills and many page-girls would have their hair cut short or put into an up-do to give it a more boyish style, and then adorned with a big bow and little ringlets. "...yeah but, they were girls." I stated.

"Yes... and then about ten years ago, when the idea of having a pageboy instead of just a page became popular again, the style carried over and this..." she tapped the photo on the cover of the magazine. "...is the kind of suit that all pageboys wear these days."

I gulped. "Michael's not going to be happy. And if I'm perfectly honest, I'm not happy either." I said. "He'll be the laughing stock if he dresses like that."

"It was your idea!" she reiterated. "You said he should be the pageboy instead. In fact, you insisted." she told me. "I gave in about his being a bridesmaid but I'm not giving in on this."

"He'd probably rather be a bridesmaid." I sneered. 

"Well the choice is his." she said. "Anyway he's already said he'd be the pageboy instead." she added after a moment's silence. "...and he probably knows exactly what a pageboy suit looks like. He'll be fully aware how girlie they are these days."

"I errr.... might have told him that he'd just be wearing a normal man's suit." I cautiously informed her.

"Well you'd best tell him that he'll be wearing a normal pageboy suit." she sternly stated. "Or a bridesmaid's dress... the choice is his."

I sighed and rubbed my brow. This is not going to be an easy conversation. I gulped at the magazine cover, then my eyes dropped to one of the headlines 'Lingerie for her... and for him'. "You're not still thinking about buying me some of that groom's lingerie are you?" I asked.

"Not really." she said. I sensed she was toying with me. "I've already bought you some." she grinned.

"But... we were going to talk about it."

"We did talk about it." she told me. "...and you agreed that no one's going to know what you're wearing under your suit."

"But that doesn't mean I want to wear lingerie... it'll be all itchy and..." I grimaced and scratched my lap.

"You'll be having your legs waxed." she stated in a worrying 'matter of fact' tone. "It'll feel fantastic."

"I'm not so sure." I frowned. "Can I see it?" I hesitantly asked.

"No it's a surprise!" she grinned. "Anyway you're supposed to be having a word with Michael." she reminded me. "..and he needs to make his mind up quick. The bridesmaid's are having their first dress fitting next weekend."

I sighed and rubbed my brow. This is not going to be an easy conversation.

[cate-eblanchett]

( t e x t ) you had me at 'she has to deal with you' and i felt a little better 😜 wait- you're saying you haven’t managed spoilers from her ? and you think I can ? now that's whacko. you can offer her a lot more then i can, dude ---- do you want me to pretend i wouldn't have been offended if you didn't ask ? GASP, bridesmaid, i do accept ❤️ i'll let you save your knee's. lady i'm already on it, i'd like to think my years of hangover's have prepared me for the exact moment. I don't think i could ever speak at your wedding and not mention the entire vegas story, i leave no detail out, nobody's safe. so send those invitations to those other lady's you left voicemail's to as-well, i'm sure Michelle pfeiffer will RSVP. okay, okay. you got the part, mom. can i insist we get matching crocs ? i've been asking the same question ! shits fucked up, i'd just like a play where being mother and daughter isn’t a thing anymore, that'd be a tad weird.

(text) we can't how messy we can be together. jules needs to spend more time with both of us in the same room, after that, if she still wants to marry me, it will be the biggest proof of her love for me. yup, can you believe it? that's the meanest thing she has ever done to me, i try every day and i will keep trying, well you are sarah fucking paulson, she respects you, maybe you could get some information. do you want to hear something juicy? i have made a big jealousy scene to jules one because of her costar and other or others because of her best friend, uhum, i act like a fucking teenager, you can slap me. sarah paulson you better watch out because the maid of honor is one of your allegedly lovers, aka jessica chastain. your speech will be the best though, i am sure you are going to maje me blush all the fucking time. I gasped when I read Michelle Pfeiffer, don't do that! it's dangerous, i could die or something!! oh no, god, no! playing mother and daughter would be a big fantasy for some perverts but we are not that kind of perverts. you should make a play about two lovers, i will play your daughter, because i am young enough to be your youngest one. @srahpaulsons

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Chapter Eight

۞

It wouldn't open.

He'd been staring at the damn thing, willing the envelope to just burst open for what might have been hours now. It was still on the desk, where he'd left it a couple of days ago, somehow hoping it would disappear. Unsurprisingly, it hadn't. Figures. Things he wanted like his collectables and unread books vanished daily – if Gray really thought he didn't know it was him, he was an even worse psychologist than everyone thought – but that bloody letter was still lying there, taunting him with its unopenness.

Ciel heaved a sigh, a familiar throbbing behind his eyepatch that always reared its ugly head when he was stressing out.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the letter that he was getting so bent out of shape over. Maybe it was easier to focus his irritation on the letter and its sender than on Alois and his idealistic words the other day.

He'd be damned if he was going to start listening to the blond psychopath now.

...And there he was, letting his thoughts crawl back to that conversation, again.

The letter wasn't going to open itself, Ciel finally relented. It should have done, because he wanted it to, but the world really wasn't working in his favour today. With the umpteenth sigh of the day, he rose from his bed and dropped into the deskchair.

He'd already cleaned his room, or at least rearranged the mess, twice. Every item on the desk apart from the letter had been moved, moved, moved again. All his books were in alphabetical order, his dozen identical clothes neatly folded.

Glancing around the room, he realized with a sinking feeling that there was actually nothing left to do but to read the letter.

The envelope only said 'Ciel' in her painfully familiar, even now, elegant hand. There was patches that were slightly off-colour, and somehow he knew she'd stuck little stickers there but thought better of it. He wondered if she had agonized over this letter as much as he was.

He tore open the envelope.

Dear Ciel,

Auntie Ann says that she'll give my letter to you. I hope she does, she's been so forgetful since she got engaged to Arthur. Speaking of which, I'm going to be a bridesmaid! I'll get a beautiful dress, new shoes, my hair done, the full works. The wedding is going to be the summer of next year, which will be nice, though I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. That means we'll have to wait a whole year! They should have the wedding in winter! What's more romantic than snow?

Do you still like the snow, Ciel? I wonder. We used to always play in the snow, though you'd always be mean and push ice down the back of my dress. At least until your chest starting getting bad. I think of you whenever it snows. Wondering if you can breathe all right. You always managed to lose your inhaler. It was lucky Auntie always carried an extra for you.

I think of you when it doesn't snow too. I've got a whole drawer full of letters I wrote, but never gave to Auntie. I'd read them when I was done writing and think how pointless they were. Meaningless ramblings about my day, about my friends whose names you don't know nor care to, about events that I'll have forgotten all about by the time you read about them. Those letters just seemed like they'd waste your time. Maybe one day I'll show them to you, when you come home.

You're probably wondering why I'm sending this letter if I didn't send any of the others. Remember when we were little, and our Mothers would joke about the day we'd get married, planning all the little details to make us blush, like the little snowflakes on the invitations, and my orchid-bouquet? They'd make us practice our waltz, because they wanted that to be our first dance, even though you could never quite get the hang of leading me. It was fun, wasn't it? Even when you stepped on my toes, I was having fun.

I'm engaged, Ciel. You probably don't remember him, you never had much of a head for names and faces. I can't show you his face, but his name is Leo Baskerville. He's very good to me, takes me dancing and out to fancy meals, buys me pretty things and treats me like a princess. I think I love him. You'd think he was an idiot.

For the longest time I put off setting the date. No one, even myself, understood why I was so adamant not to pick a day for the wedding. Then I realised. I said I'd wait for you, Ciel. Back then, when Auntie Ann came in tears and told me you wouldn't be coming home, I promised that I'd wait for you. I suppose a part of me, the part who didn't want to set the date, was still waiting for you. But I can't wait any longer, Ciel. It's funny, isn't it? A little girl always dreams of her wedding day. The big white dress, the roses, the beautiful church. And for me, when I pictured my groom, I pictured you. Not the little you who stepped on my toes when we danced, but the man you would grow to be. I never thought as a little girl that I wouldn't know that man.

I'm going to marry Leo. Our first dance will be the waltz, he's a beautiful lead, and my bouquet will be orchids. I guess I'm just selfishly trying to ease this guilt by writing to you. I feel as though I betrayed you, the you who I grew up with and whose last name I'd add to my first name in my head, by not waiting. But I still hope. I hope that one day you'll come home. Not to be my husband, because I will be a loyal and loving wife, but just so that maybe I can get to know the man you've become, Ciel.

No longer yours but always with love,

Lizzie.

And Ciel smiled, a genuine smile, maybe the smile that he'd given Lizzie once upon a time when they'd danced and she'd only giggled when he'd damn-near trampled her dainty little feet. It had been the longest time since he'd smiled like he was smiling now, and it almost hurt.

Little Lizzie Middleford was getting married. She was right that he didn't remember that Leo person, but regardless, he mentally changed her name to Lizzie Baskerville, and it sounded right. So much better than Lizzie Phantomhive would have sounded, no matter how many times she may have chanted the name in her head.

Ciel tried to picture just how Lizzie might have looked now, but couldn't. To him, she would always be the beaming girl with the doe-like eyes of enchanting emerald and hair like liquid gold. With her shrill cries and streaming tears when she didn't get her way, but her tinkling laugh and that warmth she gave everybody without reserve.

Little Lizzie was getting married, and she had the blessing of the man Ciel Phantomhive had become.

۞

The elation simply wasn't destined to last.

“Late...” Ciel muttered to himself, twirling a pawn between his fingers. As pathetic a competition as Ash proved these days, he found himself bored enough to wander out into the leisure room that night. He was beginning to wonder whether Ash had again been struck by one of his too numerous to be innocent illnesses, when someone opened the ward door.

He frowned, but greeted, “Hello, Hannah.”

“Hello, Ciel,” that voice that was so soft it was a whisper responded, the woman coming over to the empty chair, the dim lamplight doing little to illuminate her. Ciel had to squint if he wanted to see her at all.

“Ash ill again?” He set the pawn down, moving it to the most advantageous place mechanically. He wouldn't have to try with her.

“It would seem so,” she responded, mimicking Ciel's movement with little to no thought.

They played in silence for a while, the game doing nothing to lift Ciel's boredom, before Hannah spoke again. An unwelcome question.

“How are your sessions with Dr. Faustus going, Ciel?”

He looked up at that, and she must have moved at some point, because he could see her properly now.

“A-Ah-”

Bile rose in his throat.

A plastic smile twisted her lips, feral, mirth glistening in her eyes as the colour fled Ciel's face.

His first thought was that it grew back, but even in such a sickened state, Ciel wasn't stupid and knew that was impossible. Eyes didn't just grow back, especially not when they were clawed from someone's very skull.

His second thought was oh christ I know that colour, and he did. It took but a second to place the murky grey that had glared at him oh-so-many times for whatever unknown slight, that had once belonged to Peter, that now stared out at him in amusement as he tried to look away but couldn't.

“Is something the matter, Ciel?” she asked softly, innocently, and that eye followed his hands as he brought them up to cover his mouth.

There were still faint lines around her eye where stitches had clearly been, and he didn't know why but seeing those barely-there scars were what sickened him the most.

“G-Gonna be sick-” Ciel choked out, jumping from his chair so quickly it clattered to the floor. Hannah didn't move to stop him as he stumbled away from her as fast as he could, his own eye glued to his door, needing to get into his room even though the door wouldn't lock and she could easily just come after him, but it was his room and that meant safety-

He wasn't surprised when hands wrapped around him, but that didn't stop him from thrashing around, trying to escape their grasps. His skin crawled everywhere he felt their touch, and if he'd been able to, he would have clawed at the flesh to stop that revolting crawl.

“Shh, Ciel,” he heard Hannah say distantly, a hollow echo of comfort in her tone.

Two of the triplets, nameless as far as he was concerned, held him steady as the third knelt in front of him with the needle. Hannah's hand grasped his cheeks, keeping his head still.

The default thought so instilled in him that it came as often as air returned, that maybe if he just kept still, let them do as they please, retreated inside himself and waited, then it would all be over soon enough, maybe even painlessly.

And, as always, Ciel killed the thought. Like hell would he be forced to his knees.

It was so hard to remember that resolution when the drug spread through his veins like wildfire, burning all sense away. He fell limp in their hands, his body no longer listening to his screams to escape them.

۞

That heartbeat was a vicious flutter beneath his fingertips, so like the wings of a butterfly caged by hands, loose enough to live but tight enough to ensnare. There was a thrilled satisfaction that he was the one making his heart beat in such a frenzy, furthered when the boy's hands clung to him instinctively as his head broke the surface. Clutching so tightly at his arms, because he was his lifeline, he was relief from the pain – ah, but you are the one inflicting it, aren't you? only for his own good, always for his own good – and the boy knew it.

Ciel choked and spluttered, couching up water that was more like ice, lashing his captor and saviour with a glare colder than any freeze. His chest rose and fell, heaving heavily, his breath a wheeze.

“What did you do, Ciel?”

The same words as always transpired between them, and it was the unspoken words weaved between the spoken, I want to help you, I want to make you better, I want to free you, that fell on deaf ears as Ciel resolutely kept his lips together.

He almost sighed, “It's unfortunate you're being so stubborn, Ciel,” as the boy left him no other choice than to force his head beneath the water's surface once again.

Claude tightened his arm around the boy's waist as he flung out his arms and legs, not a fraction of aim, just desperation to hit the man as his lungs burned and spots danced before his eyes. He tightened his fist in the silken cobalt hair, making sure Ciel didn't get air until Claude granted it to him.

As Ciel's back hitched, movements becoming more frantic, Claude pulled him back towards his chest again. Water flooded the linoleum floor they were knelt on, every inch of Ciel saturated through.

“What did you do, Ciel?”

His skin was ice to the touch now, body racked with violent tremors, but Claude knew that had little to do with the temperature and more with their proximity. Ciel was too busy forcing the water from his body to pull away though, even when Claude began to aide him, rubbing small circles on his back.

Again he could feel that heartbeat, fingers skimming over his collarbone, so brittle and fragile. Just a little pressure, a little too much force, and the bones would snap, the fluttering heartbeat would cease.

But of course he wouldn't do that. No, he thought as Ciel finally caught his breath enough to try wrenching away from the too-intimate hold Claude had on him, because the powerful protect the weak. We protect that fragile heartbeat, and we fix those broken bones.

“What did you do, Ciel?”

And the first step to fixing the weak was, of course, to make them see just how broken they were.

۞

“Ciel?!” His voice missed its usual exuberance, so heavy with worry that it almost drew him to waking.

“Wha-What's wrong with him?” She knew, of course, had seen it before, but could think of little else to say. Her speechlessness was unusual enough that it almost pulled him to consciousness.

Oh god, it hurt. Head was pounding, like something was inside his skull trying to claw its way out, and had he drank fire because his throat burned so damn much, and where was all the air?

“What do we do?” That voice was never calm, yet now they were taking charge of the situation, and it was so funny he wanted to laugh, but there wasn't enough air to breathe, nevermind laugh.

The voices all melded into one and he could no longer put a name or even a face to them, and then he couldn't hear them at all.

۞

“Joker!”

“Sebastian!”

“Joker!”

“Sebastian!”

Anyone with any experience at St. Victoria's would attest with utmost honesty that Soma Asman Kadar, information-bank and self-proclaimed Prince, was a child. Even at twenty years old, he was a child. If he wasn't the centre of attention, if he didn't get his way, if the curry Bard made was just that little bit too hot, all hell broke loose.

Soma was very aware of how people viewed him. He played on it, even. Which was why, at times like these, there was nothing he loved more than the looks on people's faces when he acted his age.

“Freckles, Ciel's shivering has gotten worse. Go and get your quilt for him,” Soma instructed, looking very much the Prince he pretended to be as he lounged in Ciel's deskchair, gesturing the girl away.

She tore her eyes away from Alois, scowl now being thrown his way, but after a quick glance at the trembling mess on the bed, she nodded and stalked out the door. Alois hmph'd, folding his arms across his chest.

Soma had already been discarded from the argument. He'd been ready to go and get Agni to help, but neither Alois or Freckles were very agreeable. At least Freckles disagreed in a more agreeable way, though.

An awkward silence developed between the two boys, broken only by Ciel's rattling breaths.

Soma never did handle silence well.

“So... Nice weather we're having, huh?” He injected as much enthusiasm into the words as possible, but the poisonous look Alois shot him made clear the attempt was unappreciated.

“Yeah, the weather here usually sucks. Now, winters in India, man are they something!”

Were those crickets he could hear?

“... I hear there might even be snow next week!”

Alois just carried on glaring at him.

“Y'know, that's pretty impressive, Alois. I could never go that long without blinking. My eyes get all tired and scratchy and blurry and-”

“Stop talking.”

“Yessir.”

It was anyone's guess who was more grateful for Freckles' return. At least until Alois caught sight of who was following behind her.

“I said no, you stupid cow!” the blond hissed, and if it had been anyone else on the receiving end, they'd have retreated as quickly as they could. As it were, Freckles was more than used to Alois' mood swings – she was fairly sure his even worse than normal temperament towards her was solely down to her gender and his dislike of said gender – so she just flipped him off.

Joker gave a sheepish grin, “Nice to see you too, blondie.”

“What the hell is he gonna be able to do to help? Nothing we couldn't do. We need someone from the staff-”

“No staff! They can't be trusted!” Freckles cut off, bordering shrill.

Soma just sighed. That was pretty much the back-and-forth they'd been having for the past hour and a half. As Freckles and Alois resumed their circuitous argument, Joker came over. He rested his good hand on Ciel's forehead, grimacing.

“Don't need a thermometer to know that ain't right.”

“We can just toss him in the shower and run the cold for his temp. It's his breathing that's the problem,” Soma informed, and as if on cue, Ciel broke out into throat-tearing coughs. It wasn't the coughs that concerned them so much as the trouble the unconscious boy had regaining his breath afterwards.

Joker frowned.

“Well... for a start, I don't think more covers are a good idea. We need to get his temp down, not jack it up more,” as he said it, the man ripped the blankets away, “What he needs is his inhaler...”

“Which is why we should get Sebastian! He'll help!” Alois jumped at the slightest hint in his favour.

Freckles groaned in frustration. Honest to God, she wanted to slap the blond psychopath. Preferably with a brick.

“What part of no staff aren't you getting-”

“As loathe as I am to disagree with a lady, I'm thinkin' blondie has a point. Sebastian's a good bloke, s'far as I've seen anyway, risked his ass to help me out. God knows I'd be missin' more than an arm if he hadn't come alo-”

“That was Smile, not him!” Freckles looked positively betrayed, and Joker couldn't help wincing. The idea that the person she thought could solve all the problems, he was painfully aware a lot of the other patients saw him that way, was willing to actually ask staff for help. It was nothing short of sickening.

“Doll,” she softened at the rarely-used petname, “Smile wouldn't have gotten as far as the door without Sebastian's help and you know it. He needs our help, and you being stubborn over this isn't helpin' at all. There's no way we're gonna be able to get his inhaler by ourselves.”

Freckles looked everywhere but at Joker, face crumpled somewhere between thought and anger, and it was all he could do not to scrap the idea just to get rid of that expression so unbecoming of her.

She didn't say anything more, didn't relent to Joker's reasoning, but her silence was the most permission she was going to give them.

۞

“I mean, you've got to appreciate the work he's put into it!” Ronald beamed, eyes shining with mirth behind his thick-rimmed glasses, skipping along beside the fuming Sebastian. When said livid man turned the most ferocious of glares on him, the younger man only seemed more amused.

“The stitchwork! I didn't know he was capable of that, must have practised for weeks. He'll have been working on it alllll night long.”

How was this person still alive? Surely someone should have murdered him by now. Sebastian was seriously considering taking the job himself. While he was at it, may as well take care of that demented, overly-flamboyant, excessively loud, argument-for-an-entire-human-race-genocide Grell Sutcliffe.

“Hey, Sebastian! Have you got a... flurgle.”

To those less versed in the language of Soma, 'flurgle' is the approximate translation of 'oh wow, that Grell guy has stitched his name onto your ass, but whoa, you don't look happy and if I laugh I'll probably die.' Unfortunately, thanks to Agni, Sebastian was rather fluent in Soma-nese, and the purple-haired man's attempts to swallow his laughter only served to further annoy him.

Tittering, Ronald sauntered away, leaving the two alone.

“Have I got a what?!” Sebastian hissed, really not in the mood for more laughter at his expense. It would have been fine, except Grell had somehow managed to get at all of his pants, and had hidden anything and everything he could have used to get rid of the branding.

Soma masked a bark of laughter as a cough before recovering himself.

“C-Can you spare a sec?”

Sebastian followed the clearly giggling man, frowning as he realised where they were going.

He'd never been inside Ciel's room before. It was just as he expected it would be, though. A little larger than this own, and much nicer. Plush carpeting where his was wooden flooring, new-looking wallpaper where his was discoloured and peeling away, everything was a royal blue. There were two bookcases on opposite ends of the room, completely full. Not only with books but with figurines, a quite excessive amount of snowglobes, a flood of toys – if Ciel had been conscious, he'd have made clear that they were collectables, not toys – and so many different board games. There was a large desk, papers scattered across the surface, along with a myriad of sweet wrappers. The room itself was as messy as its inhabitant, clothes sprawled across the floor, the cupboard open and a mountain of broken toys tumbling out. He had an itching to start tidying up a little, just enough to actually be able to see the floor.

There was even an ensuite bathroom.

“He's sick.” Joker's voice pulled him back to the moment, and it was more the fact that Joker was there than his words that alarmed Sebastian.

Ciel did not like people in his room.

There were five people in his room.

It was a good thing he was unconscious or he would have blown a gasket.

He was whiter than white. You could almost see the veins spiderwebbing beneath his skin, he was so pale. The sweat plastered his hair to his face and neck, the sheen making him look even more translucent. His chest heaved, and Sebastian could almost feel how painful every difficultly-drawn breath was.

“What's wrong with him? He was fine yesterday,” Sebastian stated, crossing over to take a closer look. Like every other person in the room had, he rested a hand on Ciel's forehead, frown deepening at the heat.

“He's got asthma or somethin'. Gets worse when he gets a cold, I guess,” Joker offered, shrugging one shoulder, “He had a session with Faustus, so I'm guessing he got tanked.”

Filing away the term for later investigation, Sebastian made to pick Ciel up, “I'll take him to the Infirmary.”

“NO!” four voices bellowed unanimously. Soma even jumped up from his seat.

He'd have argued, but Ciel chose that moment to worsen his gasping. It sounded like every breath was the first after drowning, resisting every step of the way to go to his lungs. Unconscious of his movements until he was actually doing them, Sebastian turned Ciel onto his side, and the wheezing thankfully subsided.

His clothes were soggy and the heat was literally radiating from his body.

After working at St. Victoria's as long as he had, Sebastian didn't argue, trusting that the patients knew what they were talking about, “So what do we do then?”

“He needs medicine,” Soma spoke up, “But more importantly, his inhaler.”

Sebastian was moving immediately, glancing around the room.

“Nah, mate. It ain't here. It got confiscated after... an incident with Faustus.”

Joker and Freckles started snickering, Soma grinning. At Sebastian's confused expression, Freckles enlightened him.

“Well, Smile don't like being touched, and Dr. Faustus can get real handsy with him. In his defense, Smile did tell him to get his hands off. He didn't, so Smile made him. Let's just say that Dr. Faustus didn't wear glasses before that day.”

Joker cut off his laughter abruptly, “Yeah... it was funnier when he could breathe though...”

“His inhaler is somewhere in Dr. Faustus' office. Get some medicine from the Infirmary and get the inhaler, then get your ass back here before he suffocates or somethin',” Freckles instructed.

As much as he hated being ordered around by people younger than him, especially when they were copping an attitude for some reason, Sebastian heeded Freckles' words and was out of the ward in minutes.

۞

If Sebastian had been on such a mission a month before, he'd have been darting around corners, hiding behind plants and skulking in shadowed alcoves every step of the way. As it were, he had more than a little knowledge now, so walked the hallways free of fear. Laden with the essential flu treatments, cold compresses and cough medicine etc., he made his way towards Claude's office.

People who saw him in the corridors didn't ask why he wasn't at his post, didn't enquire as to why he had half the Infirmary's stock in his arms, didn't even demand to see identification. It was no longer odd to him; everyone went about their own business, and nobody asked questions about other peoples.

There was not a single camera in any corner either.

Dropping his loot into one of the chairs outside, Sebastian rapped on the door of Claude's office. He had a fleeting hope that maybe the man wasn't there, which was crushed as his dulcet tones granted him entrance.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Claude, but I was hoping you could spare a minute?” Plastering on his best for-the-boss smile, Sebastian shut the door behind him.

Claude was sat behind his desk, poring over some papers, and actually looked put-out. Well, if that wasn't almost an emotion. Miracles do happen.

“...I'm rather... busy at the moment, Sebastian. What is it you need?” His tone was clipped, and Sebastian was fairly sure that was irritation in those amber eyes.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry,” the sarcasm seemed to be lost on the bespectacled man, “But I just needed to enquire about the protocol for leaving the Hospital grounds? Agni tells me there's a process that needs to be gone through first.”

Every time Claude adjusted his glasses, Sebastian had to bite back his smirk, picturing Ciel spraying Claude right in the face with an inhaler. He could just see the smug expression on the boy's face, could imagine how very satisfied he must feel whenever he saw Claude donning his specs.

Claude appeared to be weighing the pros and cons of telling Sebastian to bite him. Clearly, the cons won out, and he gestured for Sebastian to take a seat.

“Given the importance of our work and for the patients' safety, security is rather tight. You'll need to submit a request for temporary leave, which the Chairmen have to authorise, before you can go. If it's not too personal a question, why exactly do you need so sudden a leave?”

He had to be careful of his answer there. After all, he didn't have any contact with the world outside of the Institute, so blagging a relatives death was out of the question. Besides, he had no intention of actually going anywhere, so it needed to be something easily cancelable.

“It's not terribly sudden; my sister was pregnant before I came here, getting on in months, and she'll have had the baby by now, I believe. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't show face at least once.”

He didn't have a sister, and he hated babies. He could easily forge a letter off his imaginary sister announcing her travels, making it impossible for him to meet up with them.

Claude nodded.

“I see. Excuse me a moment while I go get the necessary documents,” he stated, rising from his chair and leaving the room.

No sooner had the door clicked shut behind him than Sebastian was on his feet. Going by what little he knew of Claude Faustus, and half of that was Sebastian's musings on what an asshat he was, things like confiscated 'dangerous' items were probably kept in his desk.

Could the man be more predictable?

The inhaler was lying in an otherwise empty drawer, looking almost like a trophy given its own special place.

That wasn't creepy at all.

He shoved it in his pocket, closing the drawer. As he was crossing back around the desk to the chair, his hand grazed over the papers on Claude's desk, knocking them to the ground. Biting back a curse, he stooped down to pick them up.

Soma stared up at him listlessly from the discoloured photograph attached to one of the sheets of paper. His face was missing the usual beaming grin and shining eyes that Sebastian was so used to seeing, and maybe it was that that ignited his curiosity.

His eyes scanned the topmost paper.

Thursday 29 th March, 2008:

Patient X27 displaying marginal improvements. Has been in Room 1800 for six days since the incident. In today's session, admitted to forming friendship with Aleister Chambers and asking Chambers to take him outside 'for fresh air'. However, still denies any acts of violence towards Chambers, insists that Chambers' death was completely accidental.

Saturday 31st March, 2008:

Patient X27's emotional state deteriorating. Use of the wire caused severe panic and produced no positive results. He still maintains that Chambers' death was not his doing.

Wednesday 4th April, 2008:

Patient X27 began pleading for bathing rights. His continued state of unclean is beginning to distress him. Possible guilt over his hand in Chambers' death, Chambers' blood still coating him an unwelcome reminder? Continue observation.

Friday 22nd April, 2008:

Patient X27 has reverted to childlike behaviour. A ploy to lull into false sense of security? Monitor this. Refuses to answer any questions, rejecting food and drink, progressed overnight into rocking in the corner of the room and crying.

Monday 8th May, 2008:

Patient X27 released from room 1800 after childlike behaviour ceased and he attempted to strangle Dr. Phipps. Granted a bath. Returned to ward. Continue observations, risk level raised to six point five.

It wasn't until Claude's approaching footsteps reached his ears that Sebastian tore his eyes away from the page, hurriedly replacing it on the desk and taking his seat. With difficultly, he trained his face back into its polite smile, trying to keep his panic at bay.

Soma had killed some former member of staff? After 'forming a friendship' with them?

Sebastian forced the thought from his mind, accepting the sheets Claude handed him with a smile and taking his leave from the office.

Agni wasn't necessarily in any danger. It could just be a misunderstanding. After all, Sebastian didn't have any faith in how 'mad' some of the patients were, no matter how much the other staff members would insist upon it. Why should he believe that Soma had murdered someone-

blind faith in someone who may be planning to use Agni to get out of the ward and kill him as soon as? Agni didn't know, Agni couldn't know, Agni genuinely felt something for Soma (murderer) and wouldn't believe something like that even when Soma had his fingers wrapped around Agni's throat-

he had to warn Agni.

۞

When Sebastian got back to Ciel's room, Soma was the only one there with the sick boy. He greeted Sebastian with a bright grin.

“Hey! Thought we were gonna have to send a search party out for you.”

Sebastian didn't answer, overly aware of just how close Soma's hands were to Ciel's neck.

Soma jumped up from his chair and Sebastian tensed.

“Here, gimme the inhale-”

“You can go,” Sebastian cut across, words sharp enough to cut, “I'll take care of him.”

Soma faltered, grin slipping away. The coldness of Sebastian's words and the unreadable look in his eyes stung the younger man, and he took a step back, putting a little space between them. He wondered for half a second if he'd angered Sebastian, but could think of nothing offensive he'd done.

Forcing his smile back into place, he decided Sebastian's mood was simply worry over Ciel, and his dismissing was simply because he wanted to be alone with the youngest boy, “Right. I'll see you later then, Sebastian.”

۞

“Ciel, wake up,” Sebastian said, shaking the boy's shoulder. His temperature had gone down a lot over the last two hour, thanks to the compress and what little medicine he'd managed to give Ciel during the short period he'd been awake earlier. During that period, Sebastian had been witness to something very few in the World could claim to have seen; a delirious Ciel Phantomhive.

Sebastian could honestly say it was the single most oddest thing he'd ever seen.

Ciel Phantomhive, in his experience, was serious, proud, independent and so many other things. He gave off an air of superiority without even trying, without it seeming conceited; it was simply how things were. He kept everyone at arms length and even that distance was a privilege. When he looked at you, you were the only person there, everyone else seemed to melt away.

Today, though, he was a child.

“C'mon – no, keep still – you have to take it,” Sebastian insisted, beyond exasperated. Still groggy, Ciel rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, effectively avoiding the spoon of medicine. Complaints of its taste were muffled by the cushion, and any time Sebastian attempted to roll him back over, Ciel just shuffled further away, closer and closer to the side of the bed.

Sebastian was starting to entertain the prospect of letting the little bugger just fall off.

“You take it!” Ciel snapped, tearing the cold compress from his forehead and whipping it at Sebastian's too-close hand. He had a full-on pout on his face now that would have mortified the usual Ciel.

“I'm not the one who's sick, Ciel,” Sebastian sighed, clinging to the last dregs of his patience.

“Neither am I!” The statement would have been more convincing if it hadn't trailed off into wheezing coughs. For the hundredth time, the boy sucked on the inhaler.

“Yes, you're the picture of perfect health.”

Sebastian took the momentary distraction to shove the spoon into Ciel's mouth, clamping a hand over his lips to make sure he didn't spit it back out. Again. Ciel took that as a chance to smack him around the face with the compress. Again.

If he'd known how much effort playing nurse was going to be, he'd have left Soma to take care of the brat, murderer or not.

His mind was still reeling over the information, and he decided to take advantage of Ciel's current state to get some answers he probably wouldn't have gotten if the boy was healthy and aware. Still, even sick and acting like a five year old, Ciel was still Ciel, so subtlety was called for.

Ciel, fully medicated, curled back up on the bed. If the glare was anything to go by, the boy was sulking.

“I heard a name today. Aleister Chambers. I think he used to be a member of staff here?”

Ciel's glare worsened.

“He was a complete and utter ponce.”

Sebastian cocked a brow.

“You weren't fond of him then?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Any particular reason?”

Ciel shrugged, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.

“'Cause he was just irritating.”

“I was under the impression you found everyone irritating,” Sebastian couldn't help stating.

“You're irritating,” Ciel muttered beneath his breath, sitting up and rooting through a drawer in his bedside cabinet. He looked more and more depressed as his hand went deeper, until he let out a cry of victory, pulling his hand back out.

“Thanks... So I heard he was rather close with your friend, Soma?”

Pulling the wrapper off the lollipop, Ciel examined it closely before sticking it in his mouth, “Soma? Not particularly. Don't think they ever said two words to each other, actually.”

Sebastian didn't question Ciel's honesty. In the less-than-pristine state he was in, Ciel had no reason to lie, and even if he was fully healthy, Sebastian still would have believed his words. He'd already invested too much in the boy not to trust him, after all.

Still, he had his doubts. Sebastian knew perfectly well that, at least before he started working at the Institute, Ciel had spent most of his time in his room. Soma could have befriended Chambers without Ciel's knowledge. It was hardly as though Ciel made other people's friendships his business.

He had enough doubts to be worried for Agni.

۞

“Hey, Sebastian. How's Smile doin'?” Freckles asked, closing the door behind her. She was over her previous bad mood already, just glad that Ciel had gotten his inhaler back. He looked much better than before. He wasn't panting for breaths anymore, some colour had come back into his face and he was sleeping soundly.

“Much better. He'll probably sleep through the night now,” Sebastian yawned, stretching out of the hard plastic chair. Taking care of the boy was much easier when he wasn't conscious.

“It's almost eight, so I'll take over for ya. Figure I'll just crash in here.”

“Right,” Sebastian rolled his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness, “I'll check in tomorrow then. Good night.”

“W-wait!”

Sebastian paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder at the uncomfortable-looking girl.

“Hm?”

“Um... just... thanks, y'know. You, er, you really helped us out... G'night.” She turned her back to him, but not quick enough to hide her slowly reddening face. Sebastian chuckled, leaving the room.

It was on his back towards the dorm building that Sebastian came across Agni, who greeted him with a cheerful wave.

They chatted work for a while as they made their to their rooms, and it was when Agni mentioned Soma, and smiled so damn happily, that Sebastian snapped.

“Stay away from Soma.”

The words were out of his mouth before he'd even thought about them, more a sharp order than a simple request. Agni's face fell, but not into a frown. A frown Sebastian could have handled, a frown Sebastian was expecting.

Agni glared.

Sebastian had known Agni for so many years now, had certainly pissed the man off with his cockiness and flakiness plenty of times, had endured exasperated lectures from him whenever a woman he spurned took out her hurt on Agni, had been insensitive and just a downright asshole to him sometimes, yet Agni had never glared at him before.

“Look, I can't explain how I know, but... he's dangerous, Agni. He's using you. If you let him, then he's going to hurt you-” Sebastian hurried to explain himself, but Agni was hearing none of it. The usually impeccably polite man ceased the flow of words with a sharp wave of his hand, grey eyes hardening.

“Enough.”

It was a single word, but said with such ferocious anger that even Sebastian had to step back. A part of him, a part that was getting increasingly larger as Agni's glare grew more venomous, was angered that Agni was trusting Soma over him. Had they not been friends for years? Had Sebastian not helped him get through some of the most difficult moments in his life? And yet Agni was willing to place more trust in a person he barely knew, had barely known for such a short time?

“Fine. What happens has nothing to do with me,” Sebastian snapped.

He washed his hands of the matter.

۞

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter Nine

۞

Steady hands cracking it open in a skilful way rarely seen in that kitchen, the egg dropped into the pan without a single scrap of shell. The yolk sizzled, breaking the silence in the room, and soon enough several strips of bacon joined the fray.

Ah, perfection. Not a single smell of burning, either.

“Yo, Sebastian!” Bard strode through the kitchen doors, grinning widely, ever-present cigarette hanging unlit from his teeth. His chef's apron was already stained an ashy black.

“Smoking in bed again, I see,” Sebastian observed, filling the kettle.

Bard's grin turned sheepish.

“Heh... well, y'know, these uniforms, bloody flammable....”

“Coffee?” Sebastian asked as the water boiled, moving around Bard fluidly while the blond began his own breakfast.

“That'd be crackin'. Want me to take care of that for ya?” He gestured to Sebastian's masterpiece.

“No. Don't even look at it.”

There was a theory circulating the asylum that Bard's mere gaze could turn the most exquisite of delicacies into poison. Sebastian was a firm believer in it.

Sebastian had become something of a permanent fixture in St. Victoria's kitchens over the past two weeks. His ongoing argument with Agni had only worsened in that time. It was probably the already present annoyance there that made him abandon any semblance of manners in favour of edible meals and outright demand that Bard let him make his own. Half expecting to be flamethrower'd, he was pleasantly surprised when Bard just told him to 'knock himself out' and happily handed over ingredients. Since then, Sebastian had been coming down every morning to the kitchens and having breakfast with them. While certainly not his first choice in company, they were a lot more tolerable morning companions than Will and his death traps or Grell and his... well, he was a trap in and of himself.

“That fucktard Ash was down here yesterday. Gave me a right lecture about sanitation and how I 'must use the proper cooking utensils'. Bollocks to him, man's never used a fork for more than food, I'll tell you that!”

Bard was of the opinion that if you hadn't circumcised a man with a spoon by the time you were twelve then you just couldn't call yourself a man.

“And get this; the prissy SOB said they're cutting my funding! 'More important things, a drain on our resources, blah blah blah'.” Sebastian was quite a fan of Bard's Ash impression. It was quite on the mark.

“He's not your boss. Surely he doesn't have the power to cut your funding?”

“That's what I said! Where he gets off preaching to me...” Bard trailed off in an aggravated mutter, skewering the food formally known as sausage. No doubt he was imagining it was a certain lilac-eyed man.

As Sebastian sat down at the table, the other two musketeers dragged themselves into the room. Finny dropped into a chair and let his head fall to the table with a dull thunk! Meirin wasn't even conscious enough to blush when Sebastian greeted her.

They soon woke up when Bard skidded their plates across the table to them. Honestly, the two had stomachs of steel, and god knows what unearthly substance their teeth were made from.

“It's hardly as though they gave me that much in the first place, yanno?”

Finny blinked sleepily up at Bard, shovelling the food clumsily into his mouth, “Whatcha talking about?”

“The Pillock.”

His maiden name, of course.

“Huh? You too?” Meirin exclaimed, “Angela came to see me yesterday! She said the cost of the plates that got broken are coming out of my pay cheque.”

“Me too! She said my mowing was uneven and told me to use a ruler.”

Sebastian was fairly sure Finny had never touched a ruler in his life. His baffled expression only reinforced that.

The entirety of breakfast was spent bitching about the siblings, and Sebastian found he didn't mind all that much. Yes, the trio was far from his usual type of company. Bard's overall coarseness and fondness towards all things flammable, Finny's excessively childish disposition and Meirin's complete inability to look him in the eye without her head imploding were dampeners, that was for certain. However, he found himself becoming, if not warmed up to those attributes, at least accustomed to them.

Well, there were worse ways to spend a morning.

۞

It wasn't snowing. It should have been, but that's English weather for you.

For as long as he could remember, Snake had always abhorred Christmas. There was just something about the day itself that he simply couldn't tolerate.

Maybe it was the good cheer. Don't get the wrong impression; Snake could be very cheerful, though most found it hard to tell, and liked other people to be too. It was contagious, a smile, a thing he very much liked to see. However, the good cheer at Christmas was just so... false. Adults spending money they didn't have on toys their kids didn't want but would have to pretend to like. Well, should pretend to like, though most didn't opt for sparing the gift-givers feelings. The awkward and tense social gatherings of in-laws who hated each other but acted otherwise, with hugs like punches and kisses like bites, asking how their year had been and feeling sorely disappointed to learn their house hadn't burnt down.

Maybe it was the fakeness of the holiday itself. The image of Christmas was one of warmth, massive banquets, a beautiful sheet of snow falling at just the right time, family and friends banding together. In all his twenty years, not one of his Christmases had been like that. Not that he expected them to be, but it was certainly false advertising.

Even the religious aspects of the season were lost on him, faith not something he ever recalled possessing. He didn't even believe in Santa Clause.

Maybe if it had snowed last night, he'd feel better, Snake thought as he stared out the window. He usually avoided looking out the window, the thick bars across the glass caging him in and making him restless, but he always made an exception in December. Maybe that second he looked would be the second the first snowflake would fall.

With a small sigh, Snake tore his eyes from the window, rolling onto his side. The arms around his waist tightened, and he felt a little better.

“No snow,” Drocell murmured, and it wasn't even a question anymore.

“No snow,” Snake confirmed, inching closer to his companion until their chests were touching and their breaths were mingling.

“Snowin' in Alaska,” Drocell yawned, words slurred with sleep, “Lot o' snow there.”

Snake always loved a sleepy Drocell. His violet eyes hazy and unfocused, copper hair a shaggy mess, and always so much more clingy than he ever let himself be any other time. Not that his partner was particularly distant, but he was so very careful to keep any physical contact, even the slightest brush of hands, to a minimum outside of their rooms. God forbid any of the staff knew, knew to use this against them.

“Definitely Christmas in Alaska then.”

“Pagans, whole lot of 'em.”

Snake much preferred the idea of Winter Solstice than Christmas. No particular reason, maybe the name was just better to him. Drocell had told him all about it back on their first Christmas together. Honestly, Snake could remember little of the details, but the name had such a nice ring to it.

A crash from outside the door set them both on guard, all sleepiness abandoning the elder man as his arms tightened further around Snake.

A rapping on the door, vaguely resembling Jingle Bells but only vaguely, had them relaxing.

“A lady's present, let's keep it PG, boys!” Without further warning, Joker flung the door open and bounced into the room with a grin. Beast followed behind him, ready to shield her eyes if she needed to, looking as happy as Drocell at the early morning call.

“How can you sleep in on Christmas?! Up, up!” No matter how many years had passed, Joker's December enthusiasm had yet to let up in the slightest.

Beast nearly nodded off where she stood, until Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room, no doubt to harass everyone else too.

“He's not human, getting up so early in the morning,” Drocell grumbled as he pulled himself out of the bed, dragging a hand through his dishevelled hair. Snake followed suit, already missing the warmth of sleep. Once they were more-or-less dressed, they trudged into the leisure room.

Joker had worked his way around the bedrooms and roused almost everyone, the groggy masses collapsing onto the couches and chairs, cursing their unofficial leader and his impenetrable good cheer.

Soma was the only one unaffected by the early hour, bouncing up and down in his seat and humming some mishmash of Christmas songs off-key. Everyone in the room collectively damned him to hell.

“Ow – come on, Smile, it's – okay, put the toy down, it's pointy – sorry, collecta – Yeesh, fine, man!” Joker huffed, skidding out of Ciel's room and just missing the door hitting his arse as it swung shut.

It was an annual thing. No-one would have bothered if it weren't for Joker, and it wasn't as though anyone else really exchanged gifts apart from him. He was doing his rounds now, handing out little things he shouldn't have had that he'd accumulated over the year; books that weren't paperback and so faded you couldn't make out the words, comics, new hair and toothbrushes, real soap, not that industrial crap they usually got, even food that was deemed too nice for them. Joker made sure everyone got something, and something they'd want, the only reason he wasn't flogged for dragging them up at eight in the morning.

Snake accepted his gifts with a small quirk of the lips, “Thank you.” Christmas may not have been his favourite time of year, far from it, but what Joker was doing had very little to do with the actual season, and he couldn't have been more grateful for it.

More than the little trinkets Joker handed them with a grin, he was giving them a sense of normalcy despite their title of patient, the idea that they were doing the same thing people all over the world were doing.

It was nice to feel normal every once in a while.

“Incoming!” Soma hollered from over by the door, hiding his stash beneath him on the chair. Everyone else followed suit as the familiar beeping rang out and the ward door opened, the staff on shift spilling in. When the purple-haired man saw who was coming in first, his eyes narrowed, but a smug smirk formed on his lips.

“Mornin', Sebby!” Soma greeted, overtly cheerful.

He'd been hurt, at first. Ever since that day Ciel had been sick, something had changed between him and Sebastian. At least, something had changed in Sebastian. He was fairly sure he'd done nothing to warrant such blatant hostility. It was almost scary, how cold Sebastian had become. Sure, they'd hardly been bosom buddies or anything before, but they'd at least gotten along. Now? Now, Soma was certain Sebastian wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire. And a lot of his fellow patients were pyromaniacs.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Sebastian was doing everything he could to keep him away from Ciel. Well, he could go straight to hell. Screw him and his mancrush, he was Ciel's best friend – despite what Ciel and Alois said to the contrary – and some bipolar pretty-boy wasn't going to change that any time soon. Although, his increasing clinginess to Ciel was probably annoying Ciel more than it was Sebastian. Still, a point had to be made! Sebastian could glower all he wanted, which he certainly was, but he wasn't going to change anything.

Hurt had quickly made way for anger when Soma had learnt that Sebastian was the cause for Agni being so out of sorts lately. Sebastian being an ass to him was one thing, but he was meant to be Agni's friend. Best friend, if Agni's fond words over the past few years were any indication. That was another thing entirely.

Sebastian didn't scare him, that much anyway, and he wouldn't chase him away.

“They... got along just fine, if I remember. I wonder if something has happened,” Snake mumbled to his companion, watching the exchange of glares between Sebastian and Soma in puzzlement. Drocell followed his gaze.

“Odd.”

It was the way he said the single word that threw Snake off.

“...Drocell?”

He was looking unusually thoughtful. Drocell thought non-stop, but he rarely showed it. He blinked slowly, dragging his eyes from Sebastian.

“I can't help wondering... the longer stays in The Room, Peter's death, Joker's arm... Yes, they harmed us before, but there was at least a degree of subtlety, but now...” It was more like Drocell was talking to himself than to Snake, but Snake listened ardently, a knot forming in his stomach, “We knew something was changing... but when did it start?”

Snake was being addressed now, and his brow furrowed.

“The changes?”

“Hm.”

“I... I'm not sure.” That was the truth. Snake did his best to block everything but them out of his mind. It was the easiest way to sleep at night.

Drocell's eyes crawled back to Sebastian, “...I reason that it began shortly after that man started working here.”

۞

“Oh, here.” Sebastian sat up in the chair, grabbing the post-it note from his back pocket and handing it to Ciel. Ciel rolled onto his side, plucking the note from Sebastian's fingers. He quickly scanned it, rolled his eye exasperatedly, and put it on the bedside cabinet.

Ever since Finny had learnt of Sebastian's friendship, if that was the right word, with Ciel, he'd adopted Sebastian as messenger boy and constantly gave him sweets and notes to pass over to the boy. Before, he'd have just said no, but since no-one was going to see now, Sebastian saw no harm in it. Besides, whatever Finny was writing on the notes sometimes elicited the most curious expressions from Ciel that he probably wouldn't have seen otherwise. He was sorely tempted to read the notes himself.

A few days after Ciel had been sick, he'd learnt of Sebastian having been in his room. Sebastian had expected him to blow a fuse, yes, but he'd hardly thought he'd be quite that angry. Throwing a few choice words Sebastian's way, Ciel had disappeared into his room and not re-emerged for a good three days. Then, apparently over whatever little hissy-fit he was throwing, he invited Sebastian inside. Of course, the door had to be left open, but Sebastian didn't fail to see the significance of Ciel's invitation. Sure, people like Alois and Soma burst in whenever they wanted to despite the less-than-welcoming reception they received, but Sebastian had been invited. Was some of the trust he'd invested in the boy being returned, at least a little?

Sometimes they played a variety of the games Ciel had at hand. Sometimes they just talked.

Today, Ciel was in one of his rare talkative moods.

“Tell me about yourself,” Ciel more commanded than requested, looking very at ease lounged on his bed.

Sebastian blinked up from the book he'd been reading, found amongst the mess on the floor. One of these days someone was going to have to tidy up. He doubted very much it would be the owner of the mass of crap.

Shaking his head with a smirk, Sebastian replied, “You wouldn't find my story very interesting.”

Ciel tossed him a scathing look.

“You think I waste time on people I'm not interested in?”

Well. He hadn't expected that. Coming from Ciel Phantomhive, that was quite the incredible compliment. Succeeding in keeping the smugness from his face, Sebastian relented.

“Alright. I was born in Los Angeles. I've never known my Father, never particularly wanted to, and I get along well with my Mother. We were neither rich nor poor, moved around a lot for her work, and we eventually settled down in New York where I got a good education. Once I left college, I started moving around a lot on my own to wherever a job I wanted was. Now I'm here. Like I said, nothing terribly exciting there.”

Ciel nodded, chewing on the nail of his thumb, a habit of his that made Sebastian wince.

“Hmm. So, where during the 'good education' did you meet Agni?”

Sebastian frowned. Seeing that, Ciel continued, “You used to mention him quite often. Lately it's like the name is taboo. What, have the two of you had a little lover's spat?”

Uncomfortable with where the conversation had turned to, Sebastian decided a topic change was in order.

“We're... having a misunderstanding. Nothing serious. So, what about you? What's your story?”

Sebastian didn't miss the way Ciel tensed, biting down on his thumb hard enough to draw blood, before he answered, “What was the misunderstanding?”

Annoyance surged up at the blatant dismissal of his question.

“Nothing of significance,” Sebastian bit out, the sharp tone making it clear more questions weren't welcome.

“Significant enough to stop the two of you talking though.” Ciel, unsurprisingly, chose to ignore the warning tone.

“Clearly. Are you going to answer my question?”

Ciel rolled his eye mockingly, “Contrary to popular belief, I'm quite the boring topic. Ask another question, maybe I'll answer it.”

It was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Another question? Alright. Fine. How about you tell me about The Fire?”

The colour drained from Ciel's face at an almost comical rate, and Sebastian cursed his irritation getting the better of him. He just couldn't help it though. Never before had he invested as much in a person as he had those past few months with Ciel, and he was getting tired of the take, take, take. He never answered questions, and on the so rare they were non-existent occasions he did, it was in bloody riddles and hints. He'd let him out of the ward for Christ's sake! And with his albeit limited knowledge of what St. Victoria's was like, he doubted getting fired was the worst punishment for insubordination. He'd taken a risk in the boy; would it kill him to return a shred of the trust Sebastian had given?

“You've... read my file.”

It wasn't a question, and unsure what to say, Sebastian stayed silent.

A wicked smirk fell over Ciel's face, “I wasn't aware Orderlies had those rights.”

Sebastian knew he'd crossed a line, but damn it all if he was going to back down.

“Surely nothing about this place surprises you anymore? I've answered your question. In fact, I've answered every single question you've ever put to me. Isn't it about time you answered one or two?” Sebastian challenged.

The smirk flickered, more plastic than anything else, and Ciel was just looking right through him now.

“Leave.”

۞

If you had walked down the twelfth hallway on the third floor of St. Victoria's Staff Dormitory on Saturday 25 th December 2010, you'd have seen a man with a face of thunder. His annoyance with the world was positively palpable, complete frustration in every step he took. You'd have done well to turn heel and run, because that man was not one whose path you wanted to cross that day.

Sebastian stormed down the hall. First Agni, now Ciel, who the hell else could he completely piss off? Well, he still didn't think the whole Agni thing was his fault. It was Agni who was refusing to even look in Sebastian's direction, just because Sebastian actually gave a damn about what happened to him, and not many people could claim that.

Ciel, though... well, that may have been his fault, a little. Still, he did have a point. Sure, he probably shouldn't have let slip he'd read the brat's file. Probably shouldn't have asked about something he'd read in it. Especially when it was obviously a sensitive topic – what the hell wasn't with the brat though – but even so, he did have a point. He was damn tired of knowing nothing about Ciel yet being expected to go along with whatever he said, and-

Sebastian paused mid-step. His head was swimming, and he stumbled over to the wall for support before he fell to the ground. His throat closed up and he couldn't breathe, panic swelling in his chest. No-one was around to help, he couldn't breathe let alone call for help, and-

then it stopped. Air flooded his lungs, his head cleared and his feet were once more steady.

The abrupt sickness was gone, but unease remained, twisting his stomach into knots. On edge, Sebastian pushed off from the wall and continued back to his room.

۞

Steady hands cracking it open in a skilful way rarely seen in that kitchen, the egg dropped into the pan without a single scrap of shell. The yolk sizzled, breaking the silence in the room, and soon enough several strips of bacon joined the fray.

Ah, perfection. Not a single smell of burning, either.

“Yo, Sebastian!” Bard strode through the kitchen doors, grinning widely, ever-present cigarette hanging unlit from his teeth. His chef's apron was already stained an ashy black.

“Smoking in bed again, I see,” Sebastian observed, filling the kettle.

Bard's grin turned sheepish.

“Heh... well, y'know, these uniforms, bloody flammable....”

“Coffee?” Sebastian asked as the water boiled, moving around Bard fluidly while the blond began his own breakfast.

He paused as he went to sit down at the table, that same uneasiness from the previous night coiling around him again. That sickness hadn't returned, and he'd felt right as rain that morning, but something didn't feel right. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

“You won't believe this. Ash came to see me again yesterday. He's signed me up for some fire safety course! Utterly ridiculous. I know how to use fire safely,” Bard ranted, divvying up the food between two plates.

Sebastian frowned.

“Why are you only setting two plates?” he asked, and Bard paused mid-rant to give him a confused look. Before Bard could reply, Meirin stumbled into the kitchen, and Bard handed her one of the plates, sitting down himself with the other. Sebastian glanced over at the doorway for the missing player, but no-one else came through the door.

“Where's Finny?” Sebastian asked Meirin. After her usual fluster that Sebastian was actually talking to her had passed, she scrunched her nose and gave a breathy laugh.

“What do you mean? Who's Finny?”

Sebastian looked over to Bard, expecting to see a bemused expression to match his own, but his face was a mirror of Meirin's.

“Alright. What's the punchline?” Sebastian sighed, half-expecting Finny to jump out from behind the door, to laugh with the others at the joke. No-one jumped from behind the door, though, and there was no amusement in either of the faces looking at him. Only growing concern.

“What're you talking about, man? You feeling okay?” Bard asked with a worried frown.

The unease that had coiled around Sebastian tightened. There was no joke here. God knows none of them could lie to save their lives. They... genuinely didn't know who Finny was.

۞

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

۞

Chapter Ten

۞

“Man, this place has really gone to the dogs since last time, huh?” Freckles commented, scrunching up her nose as she glanced around the garden. Ciel nodded absently, eye roving the unkempt lawn. She was entirely right. As far as he remembered, the gardens were always surprisingly nice, considering where they were. Sure, a little messy, but still tasteful. Now leaves coated the ground like a carpet, the bushes were haggard and in desperate need of a trim, the branches of the trees starting to become gnarled.

Even the bench the two sat on was dirt-encrusted.

“They should get a gardener or somethin'.”

Ciel just nodded absently again, barely listening to what she was saying, so Freckles stood up with a sigh and ran over to join Dagger and Jumbo.

Ciel frowned as she left, the pounding at his temples making its presence known once again. With a hiss, he pinched the bridge of his nose and bade the headache away. For the past two days, his head had been splitting, no matter how much he tried to sleep it off.

Stupid Sebastian.

The headache was, of course, Sebastian's fault. In fact, anything that happened that Ciel didn't like lately was Sebastian's fault.

Stupid Sebastian and his stupid sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

How the hell had he even gotten his hands on his file, anyway? For fucks sake, Claude, get a lock for your drawer.

Ciel tossed his legs up onto the bench, laying down for a bit of cloud-watching.

He didn't know what exactly was in the file. It wasn't as though he had ever had the opportunity to read it. Somehow he doubted he'd want to if the chance presented itself. Still, Sebastian had known about The Fire... If he knew about The Fire, what else could he know about?

Them? What they'd done, or worse, what he'd done?

The thought chilled him. More than he'd imagined it would. It went without saying that he didn't want anyone knowing what he'd done, but why did the prospect of Sebastian knowing twist his stomach into knots so much?

Seriously? Playing blind can only go so far. You know perfectly well why-

Ciel bolted upright on the bench with a snarl, banishing the little voice from his head.

۞

He'd long since surpassed confusion and was well into the realm of completely fucking baffled.

With a well-practised ease, Sebastian smoothed the frown from his face, the usual slight smirk taking its place.

Either every single person in St. Victoria's was a master liar or not a single person knew who Finnian was. It had been a long morning of cornering staff, both those he knew and those who didn't even register in his mind, and trying to wheedle any slight hint of foul play from them. So far, he'd received nothing but blank faces and concern for his well-being.

He doubted they were all lying. Even if they were masterful in the craft, enough so to catch him out by some miracle, there was the question of why Finny? After all, the boy was nothing but a minor character in the grand scale of things. The none-too-bright gardener was hardly an important player. So why would he be targeted by whatever was going on?

Better yet, why was Sebastian the sole exception?

It had been just over a week since his fight with Ciel, and Finny's disappearance. Although Ciel had made in perfectly clear in that time that he had no intentions of reconciliation, Sebastian threw caution to the wind and made his way over to the boy's room.

Ciel was the expert of St. Victoria's, its veteran patient. If anyone could shine some light on the situation, it would be him. If he hadn't been affected, that is.

“What the... Get out!” Ciel snapped as Sebastian strode into his bedroom, ignoring protocol and closing the door behind him. He ignored the boy's indignant spluttering, walking up to the desk where Ciel was sat, looking him dead in the eye.

“Finny.”

One word was all it took for Sebastian to know that whatever was going on had happened to Ciel too. There was no recognition in his eye at the name of his friend, just a flicker of confusion amidst the annoyance Sebastian's presence caused.

“What?” It was quite astounding how much irritation Ciel could inject into the one short word.

Ignoring him, Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, dropping onto the edge of his bed. The sheer amount of exasperation and anger was like a ton of bricks falling on him, and he needed a moment to clear his head.

This was getting ridiculous. People didn't just vanish off the face of the planet! A person couldn't just be erased like that! Sebastian had found no-one like himself who remembered the blond, found no trace of him within St. Victoria's. Yet he remembered, remembered only a week earlier when he'd sat and had breakfast with him, talked to him, endured his bubbliness with far more patience than he usually would have. He clung to that memory as he raised his head to return Ciel's impatient look, and tried again, “Finny.”

“Why do you keep making that noise?”

No. There was nothing. No spark of recognition, just more confusion than before.

“It's a name, Ciel. Your friend's name,” Sebastian stated, watching his face intently for any sign of... of anything. The only thing he saw was Ciel's increasing discomfort under such blatant scrutiny.

“What the hell are you talking about? I don't know anyone called that... Has Grell slipped you something?” Ciel leaned forward in his chair, returning the assessment with mild amusement.

Sebastian almost shuddered at the idea. Honestly, if he hadn't have taken a leaf from Will's book and started booby-trapping his room after the unfortunate pants incident, he wouldn't have put it past the deranged redhead to do just that.

“Look, this is going to sound weird – it is weird – but just listen, alright? You're mad at me, I get that, and if you really want to then we'll talk about it later-”

“There's nothing to talk about. You had no right-”

“Listen. Up until a week ago, there was a man – Finny, Finnian, whatever – working here. He was the gardener. The two of you got along, it wouldn't be completely wrong to say you were friends. But a week ago, he... he disappeared. Not just disappeared, but it... it's like... it's like he was never here at all. It looks like I'm the only one who remembers him.”

He was going to say more, but stopped as he gauged Ciel's reaction. He'd expected the boy to laugh in his face, make some sarcastic comment, something along those lines. He did none of that. Rather than mirth on his face, there was pity.

Before Sebastian could continue, Ciel shook his head, “There's no 'Finny', Sebastian.”

“...Yes. There is.”

“No. It's only to be expected. This place, it does things to your head. Believe me, I know. Quite a weird little fantasy you're cooking up, I have to say, but it's just that; a fantasy.” Ciel's words were laced with the same pity that lay in his eye, the traces of anger from before draining away as he looked at Sebastian like there was something wrong with him.

Alright, he hadn't expected Ciel to just agree with him straight away, but what the hell was this? The brat was talking to him like he was the mental patient!

“Environment effects mind. It's a proven fact. I'm actually surprised it took this long for the place to start taking its toll. Take the day off, get some sleep, rethink this Finny thing tomorrow when your mind is more rested.”

It was unbearable, the sympathetic and downright patronizing tone used to spoon-feed him advice. He didn't want rest, he didn't need rest. This wasn't some side-effect of being in the Institution too long – or was it?

#black butler fanfiction

[ink-stained-words]

I don't have enough thoughts at the moment to make a proper post so this is probably more of a "things I'll forget otherwise" list

-The very specific way I fix my necklace now. It's deliberate. I fully pause before fixing it, as if acknowledging 1, how often it gets messed up, & 2 how you kept insisting on fixing it

-I have my own Monster can collection now. It consists of 1 can. Bc I refuse to drink the angry peach ring drink & just have the one I bought for your sleepover

-Legitimately never going to rearrange that shelf. I have no idea how you were color coding it. There're two red books in the middle. But I love you so it's just gonna stay that way

-I moved Heartstopper over by the yellow books. I think its new placement will probably annoy you more than before

-I started tying my curtains back with some of the ribbons I've acquired from you. It's pretty

-Jenga has now been permanently associated with you in my head. That's your legacy. Really good at Jenga. I'm gonna write a poem & rhyme something with Jenga /hj

-Help what rhymes with Jenga

-Google suggested "magenta". This is promising for future poem writing. Even if those words absolutely do not rhyme

-I mentioned wedding shopping in the tags of a post from a few days ago & I'm genuinely quite fixated on how much fun it was for tiny me

-Not tiny tiny me, at my parents' wedding. That was 2005. I don't remember any of it. But my aunt's wedding was in 2010ish & I remember trying on high heels

-It was so cool. Watching the adults try on boring bridesmaid dresses was boring but the shoes were awesome. Quite sad you weren't there. We could've found the best ones

-On the note of "things you absolutely could not have been present for, but I'm sad you weren't anyway", we went on a trip to Leavenworth in 2018 & it snowed so so much

-It was a family reunion so the Airbnb was huge & quite pretty. And the town was so lovely, we would've had a blast exploring it

-We could've had a snowball fight. It would've been great. Why weren't you invited to the family reunion that took place 3 years before we met, this is a tragedy

-I finished rwrb & it was very good

-Oh and also the other book by that author, about the girls on the subway. It's not really a spoiler, plot wise, but there's a part I remember

-At some point one of the girls goes to a party & gets very drunk. Drunk party girl calls the other girl & is sad that she isn't at the party & is like. "I should just carry you around in my pocket on speaker"

-And then she does??? She walks around the party with the other girl talking through her phone, responding to conversations & stuff??

-And I decided that was absolutely something I would do, inevitably sleep deprived

-No way in hell I'd get drunk at a party you weren't attending

-I wouldn't even get drunk at *that* party, bc I'd be worried about you & would assign myself as the designated driver

-Can't believe you're gonna refuse to play Candy Land with my tiny cousins some day

-Next you're gonna tell me you're not gonna play Monopoly Jr, which my aunt bought last time I was there /t

-My dad also banned my brother's friend from sleeping in his room, but they weren't nearly as invested in finding loopholes. Just slept in separate rooms. Quite boring of them

#writing #list #I'll add more to this later #edit: I have a lot more thoughts than previously anticipated #but I don't have the energy to make a post #so it's just gonna be a list #a list of things I kept meaning to tell you #tada

[hollandroos]

ah can you do a part two to the angsty tom blurb after y/n walks out?

Part one

Tom had made a lot of mistakes in his life.

He had turned down roles that he later looked back on and realised he was a fool to reject. He had sworn at his mum when he was fifteen - which he later apologised for and never did again. At one point he let the fame get to his head and he had treated some wonderful people as though they were the dirt beneath his shoes.

But the biggest mistake was not showing you the love you deserved while he had you.

It took Tom six days of no calls and texts from you - and blunt replies from your closest friends when he asked if you were okay for him to get onto the next plane and fly home. He'd admit that it was entirely his own fault. If anything you were giving him a taste of his own bitter medicine.

What Tom didn't expect when he walked into your once shared home was for the kitchen to be empty of your favourite coffee mugs. Apart from the one he got you - that one was sitting next to the sink.

It was clear as day that you'd long left, your winter throw was nowhere to be seen and the coffee table was already beginning to collect dust.

What hurt Tom the most was seeing your shared bedroom - now clearly just his. The room looked naked without your clothes scattered across the wooden floor. There was an indent in the bed where you once lay, a small reminder of what was missing.

Your wedding planner sat on the cabinet previously filled with your clothes. Within the first month of him being gone, Tom had told you to keep planning and not wait around for him. He wanted you to have your dream wedding.

Tom feels an unbearable amount of guilt pooling in his stomach when he remembers how you'd send him photos of cakes and decorations. Bridesmaids' dresses and cutleries. You kept demanding he be included in the planning of your shared wedding. To which he kept shrugging you off, telling you he was busy with filming.

That left you to pick out the invitations, the cake, the gifts for the wedding party. You had done almost everything except pick a date. Tom remembers you asking him about his upcoming schedule numerous times. He kept telling you he'd get back to you but if he remembers correctly, he never did.

He realises now you were trying to pick a date.

Had he really been absent for that long?

Your jewellery box was gone but your engagement ring - a silver band Tom had spent weeks trying to pick out sat exposed on the bedside table. If that didn't cut deep enough, there was an unopened letter beside it.

Scuffling over with tearful eyes, he picks up the letter and opens it with shaky hands.

Tommy,

I hope this letter finds you well.

You've probably already noticed that I'm gone. If there's anything there of mine that you don't want just feel free to donate it, I have what I need. You won't be seeing me again - or at least not for a while.

I won't lie, you absolutely ripped my heart out. Day in and day out I waited for you to make some sort of effort. I watched the postman go past our house every day without stopping. Still, every day I hoped he'd stop and you'd have sent me something. A card, flowers, just something to show you were thinking about me. But as you already know, I got nothing. I hope you enjoyed the gifts I sent you for your birthday - though I didn't hear anything from you about whether or not you received them.

I already rang the jewellers, you can still get a refund on the ring if you take it in within the next few weeks. I managed to get a refund on most of the wedding items so don't worry - it'll be as if we were never even engaged in the first place. I'll cover the few things we can't get refunded if it means I don't have to hear from you.

I hope that you look after yourself and continue following your dreams. If I'm being painfully honest, Tom, I just don't think you have any time or space for tagalongs right now. You need to be alone for a while to figure out what is important to you.

You'll always have a place in my heart, but I can see now that I no longer have a place in yours.

Endless love,

Y/N.

Nothing could prepare Tom for the pain that came with the realisation that he had most likely surely lost you forever. This was the type of heartache that flowers couldn't fix. No amount of 'I love you's and 'Im sorry's could bring the two of you back together now.

Tom had been stupidly blind not to see how he was tearing down the person he loved the most. How with every ignored text, every short-lived facetime call and every day without reminding you how much he loved you he was slowly killing the relationship he had spent years building.

Picking up your engagement ring, Tom twiddles in between his fingers. Holding the last piece he had of you close.

You deserved better. You saw that, and now so did he.

#Tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader insert #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland oneshot #marvel #mcu #peter parker

[goldenpogue]

What is Love

Drew Starkey x Reader (angst)

Summary: You and Drew used to have something. Although you thought you had moved on from it, you can't help reminiscing about the past. (recommend listening to say you won't let go by James Arthur and too good at goodbyes by sam smith while reading to add to the mood)

warning: sad alert, one cuss word, kinda long

Today was a special day for Madelyn and Chase, it was their wedding day. You couldn't express how excited you were for them. When Madelyn asked you to be one of her bridesmaids, you didn't hesitate to say yes. They decided to get married by the beach, in a nearby chapel. The chapel was surrounded by glass so you could see the ocean view. It was perfect. You wouldn't have missed this moment for the world. Her walking down the aisle and the amazed tears in Chase's eyes made this moment the most beautiful sight to see. You found yourself thinking about how you couldn't wait to be in this position. Newlywed, happy with the person you love- the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. Your eyes teared up at the thought. Spotting Drew looking at you from your peripheral vision, you chose to ignore him. Turning your attention back to the couple as they begin to state their vows.

Chase clears his throat and begins, "Before I met you I didn't think I'd find someone who matched me so well. Someone who understood every aspect of me, the good and the ugly." He let out a breathy chuckle before continuing as everyone let out soft laughs, "Even the parts of me that I don't even fully understand myself. I knew when I first saw you that you had to be the one. You truly are the other half that I never knew I needed and for that I promise, for you, I will aim for the stars and beyond to make you happy. Through thick and through thin, I'll be there. When things get tough, just look right beside you and I'll be right there."

You smiled faintly through your tears, taking in every word Chase said. You finally made eye contact with the one person you had been avoiding this whole time. You thought about how you first met, at a party Madelyn had invited you to come to. You two clicked and the rest of the party was spent getting shit-faced together. That night you ended up staying at his place and mostly throw up while he held your hair back. The next morning, he teased you about how you couldn't hold your alcohol as he made you breakfast. You couldn't help, but to smile as you knew you gained a bond that day you had never had with anyone else. As the days went by, you began to fall in love with him. Everything he did made you love him even more. Even the things he didn't like about himself, you loved.

Your smile fades away as you shake your head, shaking away the thoughts. You wipe your tears and take a deep breath as it's Madelyn's turn to give her vow. "Well, I don't know if I can beat that but I'll try," everyone laughs before going quiet again.

"I love you so much, I can say that every hour and it still won't add up to how much I really do. I love you with all my heart. I was afraid that I wouldn't find the person that would love me the same way I'd love them until I met you. The way you make my heart race, the way you give me butterflies, the way you make me smile is like no other. I am grateful to have you in my life. I will, from this day on, be your forever as you are my always. I'll hold your hand and walk with you through any obstacle that comes your way, and I promise I won't let go."

"I won't let go"- the same words he said to you on your first date. You went hiking in the forest, something you weren't to fond of doing at first because you didn't like the thought of insects and possible wild animals. However, being with him made you comfortable. He wanted to show you what he called "a beautiful sight", but you had to climb a bit to get there. While climbing over the ledge you slipped and scrapped your knee. He made sure you were okay and grabbed your hand. You were a little reluctant to continue after that until he reassured you. "It's okay. I won't let you fall again, I promise. I won't let go." He softly squeezed your hand as you nodded in agreement.

You started going on multiple dates after that and you assumed that meant the feelings you had were being reciprocated. The truth was far from it. You sadly didn't realize that 'til you saw her. His arm wrapped around her, the same way he wrapped it around you. His eyes looking at her, the same way he looked at you. In that moment, you questioned everything. Had it been one sided this whole time? He'd say no. He'd say he loved you, but you knew the truth. He may have loved you, just not the same way you loved him. You had accepted every gift and every loving word from him with devotion. His love to you was everything, but your love to him was replaceable.

Your thoughts are interrupted once more by the cheers of the crowd. You look up to see Madelyn and Chase kissing. Smiling, you start cheering along as Chase picks up Maddie up and begins walking down the aisle. Everyone follows them out of the chapel and Madelyn decides to throw her flowers towards you and the other bridesmaids as they get into their car. The flowers fall in your direction and you instinctively catch them. People around you cheer as you glance at him. He looks at you with a look of slight sadness and regret.

Sometimes you love people and they don't realize how amazing that is until they don't have you anymore. You have to learn to appreciate those people for the experience, but not to dwell on them. If they didn't appreciate you when you were around, they don't get to try after they hurt you. It's sad, but its true- they aren't worth it.

You turn to Maddison and hand her the flowers, "I think you deserve these more than me." She exchanges smiles with you and accepts them. You look at Drew one last time, your smile remaining as you turn to walk away.

Authors Note: thank you for reading.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x you #drew x reader #drew starkey x y/n #outerbanks rafe

[dreaminpetals]

💐 COMMISSION: fem s/o's wedding with andrew (sfw & nsfw) 💐

thank you so much for the commission! please consider checking out my emergency commissions here ! i hope you enjoy !

SFW ;;

♡ Andrew has always longed to marry somebody. Being a religious man, he's dreamed of filling a church with people who are dear to him as his beloved bride walks down the aisle.

♡ He's only glanced at weddings, an outsider looking in. The brides and grooms having the best nights of their lives made his heart feel fuzzy. Nobody would ever dare to wed him, but the idea was certainly a pleasant one. It helped him sleep. It comforted him when he needed it most. He wanted to look down at his hands and see a ring that reminded him someone out there loves him.

♡ He grew up with not even a penny to his name, so he knows having a luxurious wedding would be completely out of the picture for someone like him. Until he met you.

♡ You helped him get back on his feet and the two of you worked together to save up enough money for a wedding ceremony and reception, along with a honeymoon.

♡ Most honeymoons are spent lazing by the beach, but due to his body being constantly at war with sunlight, you decided to book a trip to a lovely cabin hidden away in the woods, a private place for just the two of you.

♡ He honestly thought you'd end up getting married in Red Church, surrounded by cobwebs and broken glass, but you insisted that you two would find a way to escape the manor and you'd have a proper wedding.

♡ It took months of promises and longing, but the seal keeping everyone trapped in the manor finally snapped and let everybody escape. You took Andrew's hand that day and promised him that a brighter future was upon you.

♡ Your wedding was surprisingly inexpensive. Despite your days in the manor being long gone, many of the survivors stayed in touch with you and were more than willing to help. You don't need to hire a whole team of wedding planners with the survivors by your side.

♡ Michiko and Violetta teamed up to sew you the most gorgeous dress you had ever laid eyes on.

♡ Emma designed your bouquet and enveloped the chapel in beautiful flowers.

♡ Norton prepared your rings using the finest gems he could find.

♡ Margaretha found the most wonderful songs to play and arranged dances.

♡ Vera styled your hair and Fiona did your makeup.

♡ Victor handled the invitations and did a fantastic job. So on and so forth.

♡ You and Andrew were on good terms with almost everyone, so they were all pumped to see how your wedding would play out. It was the greatest team effort they put into anything since the escape of the manor.

♡ You two had lots of practicing to do before the actual wedding. For one, Andrew didn't know table manners. You'd have to lovingly teach him gestures like how to cut his meat and how to do a toast before even daring to eat at the reception.

♡ Dancing together in your rooms was what Andrew enjoyed the most, though. Margie planned several dance routines, so you had triple the practicing to do when it came to dancing.

♡ Andrew was surprisingly agile during fast-paced dances, he loved to twirl you in the air like in a movie and dip you so low you thought you were going to crash into the ground. Each yelp only spurred him to play with you more, drinking up your reactions and getting all giddy because it's you.

♡ As for slow dancing with Mister Kreiss? You're so lucky to say you're familiar with it. He hums along to whatever music you play in the background, and puts so much love into every step or twirl that you feel like your heart might burst. It's agony waiting to dance with him in a suit and dress rather than your pajamas.

♡ You're blown away when you see the wedding venue for the first time. It's pure white with shades of red sprinkled in, the same colours Andrew has hated about himself now repurposed to be something he'd look at fondly for the rest of his life. It was beautiful. Like him.

♡ You noticed a chair with an unfamiliar name on it. When you asked Andrew who it belonged to, he answered that it was for his late mother. She would have loved to come, he said.

♡ He doesn't take the day of the wedding very well. What do you mean he can't see you until the ceremony?! He wants to greet you, kiss you, practice some extra dance moves to be extra sure... he's grumpy while the guys of the manor dress and hype him up.

♡ "Alright, let's do this! THREE CHEERS FOR OUR MAN ANDREW!" William would cheer so loudly the girls would hear it from the other side of the church and burst out into laughter.

♡ Andrew couldn't stop his hands from shaking, though. His lifelong dreams were finally being realized. The love of his life was going to marry him tonight. Willingly. He could barely believe it.

♡ As for you? You're brimming with excitement at the idea of walking down the aisle and shooting an arrow of love straight into Andrew's heart. The girls are envious of you as they powder your face and tighten the seams of your dress.

♡ "I remember when you first met that boy," Michiko would say to you as she styled your dress, beaming at you through the mirror. "You were too shy to even speak to one another... ah, young love."

♡ It took a million checks to make sure you were ready to present yourself to everybody. Your hair, makeup, dress, veil, bouquet... everything had to be absolutely perfect. It was a bit difficult having so many girls look after you, because Tracy's idea of perfect was a little bit different than Michiko's. There was a lot of playful arguing, but you knew they just wanted this day to be flawless for you.

♡ Once the petals were strewn down the halls and the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their appearances, you finally presented yourself.

♡ It took everything in Andrew to not fall to his knees when he saw you. You were angelic, your white dress cascading down your back with a stunning hairstyle he's never seen you in before. Your bouquet was made of all your favourite flowers, and he could see the perfect shade of lipstick beneath your vail. You captured Andrew's heart as he leaned onto Luca's shoulder for support.

♡ Andrew wasn't the only one who had his breath taken away. Practically everyone was gawking at you. It made Andrew feel a little... possessive, seeing everyone's eyes on you. He was going to be marrying you. Not José, not Norton, not Victor but him.

♡ All of his negative feelings disappeared the moment you were in arms reach. He extended an arm to take your hand as you gladly obliged. When he felt the fabric of your dress against his wrist, electricity shot through his body for a second time.

♡ Being able to see Andrew up close was a dream come true. His usual matted hair was thoroughly washed and brushed, it appeared as if José had lent him a hand. His usual flower was still present even as he wore a breathtaking suit. He smelled like cologne and looked so nervous but in love... you couldn't wait to finally kiss your groom.

♡ His hands trembled as he lifted your veil to reveal your features to him. You flashed him a grin and he felt his heart explode. He danced his fingers along your cheeks until they met your shoulders, which he gave an affectionate pat before turning to the priest.

♡ He had Helena help him with his vows. He wanted to blow you away, to use words you didn't think he knew. It took him days to memorize the words of love he was going to bestow upon you. You overheard him talking to himself a few times, but never guessed they were his vows.

♡ He also has some trouble with words of affection. Andrew much prefers to hold you or do favours for you.

♡ "When I first met you, I didn't think I was worthy of love. It's still hard to believe, but... I promise to return to you every affectionate gesture you give to me. I'll love you always and forever, as my angelic wife. I want to grow old with you. I vow to protect you, adore you, and care for you as long as I'm your husband. Our hearts will always be melded together and nothing will ever change that. Thank you for saving me. I love you."

♡ His vows brought some of the survivors to tears. Most of them only knew Andrew as that really quiet guy who hid behind his girlfriend a lot, so to see him spill his heart out for you made the crowd let out a sea of "awwwh"'s.

♡ His face turned scarlet and he almost wanted to run out of the building and hide once he finished speaking. He stumbled over and mispronounced a few words, but you could tell he put his whole heart into it and he meant every word he said.

♡ When he's finally able to kiss you, Andrew dips you low and assaults your entire face with kisses, treading past your lips. He doesn't care about smudging your makeup or embarrassing you, you're finally his wife and he just wants to feel your face after waiting all day to.

♡ The cheers once you become man and wife are astounding. When you tossed the bouquet it was caught by Eli and Gertrude.

♡ Demi helped to bake an enormous cake, one that's almost as tall as you. On top were little toppers meant to look like you and Andrew that you kept as mementos.

♡ The reception was definitely more of a party than the wedding was. Antonio and Margie played music for everyone to dance along to, and a karaoke session was held as well.

♡ Andrew was a little stressed out by how much noise there was, but you reminded him everyone there loved him and he melted. He's not used to all this positive attention.

♡ Your heart burst when he extended an arm and asked you to dance. You had been practicing for so long that when you finally attended the real event, it felt like a dream.

♡ For just a few minutes, nothing existed but Andrew's arms around you and the elegant music brought to you by a live band.

♡ Once all the food is eaten and gifts are exchanged, everyone bids you farewell. The girls cry when they hug you and the guys all pat Andrew on the back, wishing him good luck for... what couples do on their wedding night.

♡ When you two finally arrive home, Andrew is exhausted. He's never been to such a crowded event before, especially one where he's the main focus.

♡ He'd need to lay his head in your lap and relax as he plays with your dress. The fabric felt so pleasing under his fingers. He was so in love with every part of you. He needed to be as close to you as possible after being kept from you, and from being in public with you. He cherished alone time like this.

♡ Once he's rested up, you'd have to unpack all your gifts! Each survivor and hunter gifted you something for your domestic life with Andrew. Matching mugs, blankets, cutlery, paintings... you were drowning in presents.

♡ It took an hour, but you finally unwrapped and stored everything away.

♡ Which leads to...

NSFW ;;

♡ You and Andrew have had sex before. Maaany times. He views it as making up for lost time, it helps with his insecurities, and he enjoys making you feel good. Andrew will do everything in his power to make sure the lovemaking on your wedding night is nothing short of magical.

♡ When you're settled at home and can't think of any more chores to do, Andrew is more anxious than he's ever been. His face is red in a furious blush and he's barely able to muster a sentence as he stands stiffly, lustful eyes on you.

♡ He knows what couples are meant to do on their wedding nights, and he's so excited to make your wishes come true, but this poor boy has no idea how to initiate things. Whenever you make love, it's because he's visibly horny but too anxious to say anything so you take care of him.

♡ You approached your husband, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you stared up into his eyes. He didn't look at you or respond to your inquiry of whether he's okay or not. The growing tent in his pants spoke for itself.

♡ Your eyes widened when you felt his erection brush against your thigh. He could tell that you felt his arousal ー because he hoisted you up bridal style and pressed an openmouthed kiss to your lips. He was going to take you, and he was going to do it right.

♡ His sudden burst of confidence lead to him carrying you to your bedroom, and he gave you another kiss before gently placing you down on the bed.

♡ Andrew wouldn't know what to do next. He wants you eat you out for hours but... your dress is in the way. And he doesn't feel like taking it off just yet. No, he wants to take his sweet time with you. It's your wedding night, after all.

♡ His solution? Dry humping. He's always adored being able to rut against you like a wild animal, and getting to do so in your elegant wedding gear has him rearing to go. He doesn't want to soil your gown, no, he just wants to do something absolutely filthy in attire that's meant to be for a ceremony all about you.

♡ He would spread your legs as far as they possibly could go in your dress. When he hikes your dress up to your lower stomach and finally sees the sweet dessert laid out just for him, he's bucking his hips into the cold air for any sense of relief.

♡ He'd press his clothed cock against your panties and see stars. His lovely wife was so close to him but so far... he wasn't sure how long he could last like this.

♡ Andrew ground against you in a frenzy, arms snaking around your back as his face nestled itself in the crook of your neck, sucking sweet little kisses onto the flesh. He groaned when he rubbed against you just right, aiming to hit the same spots over and over again.

♡ He wouldn't let your needs go unnoticed. Andrew would angle himself to rub against your clit, and he'd pay special attention to your neck as he desperately got himself off with your body.

♡ The low groan that escaped from his lips as he came into his boxers went straight to between your legs. As he rode out his high, he'd push your panties aside and finish you off with his fingers before pulling away. Something about cumming before even getting his clothes off made him growl with need. And it made him desire you even more than he already did; skin to skin this time.

♡ Andrew asked you to undress him. You felt him shudder underneath you as you removed his suit and got him out of his pants. Stripping him reminded you that beneath all the cologne and hair gel, it was still your Andrew. His scarred body yearned for yours and you were more than happy to press a chaste kiss to his chest once he was undressed, your way of telling him you loved him.

♡ Your husband would ask you to sit in his lap, right on top of his aching boner just begging to be touched, and grind against it as he undid the several seams on your back.

♡ Andrew loves mirrors. He doesn't like seeing himself in them, but you? He could watch you be undressed through a mirror all day long. He thinks his hands look good when they're unbuttoning the fabric keeping him from you.

♡ You looked so radiant that Andrew would need to fuck you in front of a mirror just to truly see you.

♡ He would take his sweet time with you, for every untied string he would thrust up to grind against your clothed pussy and nibble your shoulders. Hearing you mewl in his lap causes his hands to fumble as he undresses you. He wondered just how someone could be so cute every time a moan is pulled from your throat.

♡ Andrew felt a little dejected once your dress was ready to come off. He would miss seeing you in it.

♡ ...Those feelings didn't last long, though. The moment he laid eyes on your bare body he was surging with confidence and hunger.

♡ "You look so ravishing... my... my wife..." he muttered, mostly to himself. It appeared he was still in disbelief that you were a wedded couple. Throughout the night he'd periodically mumble to himself that you were his wife, or he'd call you Mrs Kreiss. It had a lovely ring to it.

♡ Andrew wants ー no, needs ー to taste you after being away from you for so long. He would eat you out like a man starved.

♡ Positioning his face between your thighs, Andrew licked a sloppy stripe up your pussy, stopping right below your clit. Then he'd lick back down, avoiding the place where you needed him most. Your frustrated groans earned a soft chuckle from Andrew. He wanted to draw this out... he was in a playful mood.

♡ He massaged your thighs as he teased your folds, finally pulling away to ask you the question that would be the death of you. "Tell me what you want, my... wife..." his voice dropped in volume when he reached your title. He didn't care in that moment how cheesy it sounded, this was the ultimate night to be sappy with his angel.

♡ "Enough teasing, Andrew, please... eat me out," you'd weep through gritted teeth as your husband nibbled your thighs and nodded his head in response your pleas.

♡ Now that he's gotten you riled up for him (he wants to feel needed), he's not holding back. Andrew is the king of being unintentionally rough. He'd leave your core battered from how deep his licks are and how his chin smacks against your soft flesh.

♡ The moment Andrew feels you contract and twitch around him, he's slipping a wet finger into your walls to torture you further. He won't stop his ministrations even as you cum hard around him.

♡ He's extra passionate for your wedding night which translates into him not giving you a break. He doesn't want to pull away from your pussy, he wants to keep his head burrowed between your legs for as long as he possibly can. His tongue is going to commit every inch of you to memory tonight.

♡ If you really want to make this night worth your while, tackle Andrew once you feel overwhelmed and turn the tables on him.

♡ He loves when you take control and take him by surprise. One minute he was devouring you, and the next you've pushed his back against the headrest and you're lowering your head dangerously close to his cock.

♡ He wants you to feel good even as you suck him off, so Andrew will finger you while your lips are wrapped around his dick. He'll angle himself so the palm of his hand rubs against your sensitive nub. It drives him wild how sloppy your strokes and licks are when you're on the verge of cumming.

♡ He'd prefer to cum in your mouth. It's an intimate night, he doesn't want you to be completely covered in his seed just yet. He'd rather save that for the honeymoon.

♡ Chest heaving against your back, Andrew's next move is to pull you into his lap again. Remember how much he loves mirrors? He'll seat you right on his cock and direct your face with his hands to look right into the mirror across from your bed.

♡ "My wife," he'd murmur into your shoulder before snapping his hips into yours.

♡ Having Andrew's mouth so close to your ears means you'll get to hear every gasp and purr that he emits. And he makes a lot of quiet noises he tries to hide.

♡ Andrew made sure to cup a hand around your breasts and kiss your neck & lips as well. He wants to surround you. He wants all of your senses to be overtaken by him until you can't function.

♡ He would whisper praise into your ear, telling you how beautiful you look and how good you feel around him. It's not like him to be this bold and dominant but you're loving it.

♡ Andrew asked to cum inside you that night. When he finally reached his climax, he lifted you up so he could admire the string of cum connecting the husband to his wife. He was addicted to the sight and made sure to capture it in his memories for as long as he could.

♡ After several more rounds of rough licks and hard thrusts, Andrew would want something more soft and classic with you.

♡ Gently lowering you onto the mattress, Andrew would hover over you and press a tender kiss to your lips. With one long thrust, he'd fill you right up and stay like that, your hands connecting.

♡ His thrusts would be slow and sensual, making love to you rather than just fucking you. Don't be surprised if you feel hot tears drop onto your shoulders. This is one of the most sentimental moments of Andrew's whole life.

♡ Your tongues would dance as your lips locked in an intense kiss, you can tell how desperately he's trying to last and make this feel good for you.

♡ Andrew quickly repositioned himself to hit that spot inside of you. He's committed the location to memory, and wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't relentlessly batter it tonight.

♡ Your sudden gasps caused his thrusts to grow frantic, his hot breath fanning onto your neck as he plowed you into the mattress.

♡ You could feel his smirk on your skin when you began to pulse around him.

♡ "Good girl..." he would purr, rubbing circles on the back of your hand as you rode out your high. Hearing your cries of pure ecstasy pushed Andrew over the edge, and he emptied himself into you. You had never felt so stuffed before.

♡ Once you've decided you had enough, Andrew's entire demeanour changes. Before, he was determined to push your limits and hear your cries, while now he's insisting that you take a bath. He feels awful that he ruined your hair and makeup, plus you're littered with hickeys and your thighs are stained with seed... he doesn't know that you wouldn't have it any other way.

#andrew kreiss x reader #idv x reader #identity v imagines #andrew kreiss smut #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss imagine

[nitannichionne]

August's Angel, Chapter 13: Bridesmaid Brunch (A Henry Cavill/August Walker Fanfiction)

Chapter : Bridesmaid Brunch

Week 22

Her nervous system is now sharpening into the five senses we know. Her grip, her vision and her hearing are all stronger now, and she is now one pound in weight and about a foot long! Shining a flashlight on the womb will more than likely get a response, and voices, your heartbeat, and your growling stomach become sounds of the day.

Your body is truly not your own. Eating and living for two is evident not only to you but those around you. Ligaments in the body loosen in hormonal response to pregnancy and the delivery ahead, usually resulting in your foot size going up. You may also experience a protruding belly button, constipation, heartburn, indigestion, faintness, dizziness, leg cramps, stretch marks, and practice contractions for the birth ahead known as Braxton Hicks. Keep those healthy snacks and water around, exercise daily, get plenty of rest, and take breaks from standing a long time. Sensible shoes and comfortable clothing are the order of the day.

Now, everyone knows you’re pregnant, and people may want to touch your growing womb, which is nothing short of a growing miracle. Some are alright with this but if you are not, tell people you’d rather not be touched, step away from them when they try, or be a real smart alek and touch their bellies! Some may laugh it off, but some may instantly understand that even though the baby is there, she is still inside your body and you deserve respectful personal space whenever you want it.

“I can’t believe you’re inviting me to come along!” Madison is thrilled.

You look at your friend, Dana, who rolls her eyes humorously, and yes, Madison. You realize that she is terribly young and pretty, but she is also kind of nice. She even apologized for everything though it was all clearly Saul’s doing and helps with the cages. You find out that she is a college student studying veterinary medicine and she needs the job. He just took advantage and then put her where he wanted to.

“I’ve never been a bridesmaid before,” Madison smiles. “Do we really have to wear ugly dresses, though?”

“I think we should find functional dresses for you, something you can wear anywhere after the wedding,” you nod. “I have always hated that you pay for these dresses you will never wear again, you know?”

“I totally agree with that,” Dana nods. “My mother picked my bridesmaid dresses. Oh, what she did to them! I had to step in and reason with her they were so hideous.”

You laugh at that. “Well, don’t worry, I’m not that kind of bride.”

“Seriously, though, August is hot!” Madison says, her eyes widening. “And he acts like you’re the only woman on earth. That’s so Disney!”

You and Dana laugh.

“It’s true,” Dana says. “My husband does that sometimes, but August…wow.”

“I’m also carrying his daughter.”

“Daughter!” Dana exclaims. “A little girl?” She hugs you. “Oh, my God!”

Madison hugs you, too. “Oh, pink everything!”

“I hope not,” you roll your eyes. “I want her to have all colors.”

“So are you going teal or yellow on the nursery then?”

“Honestly, we’ve been at odds about it.”

“What? You’re arguing?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “He wants a girly girl nursery, but I like something a bit more neutral.” You open your phone and show them two designs.

“I honestly believe this little girl has a tiara somewhere that I don’t know about!” You joke, showing them the pictures.

“The princess one!” Dana and Madison say in unison and start giggling.

“Seriously?” You are surprised.

“Let him have his princess,” Madison says dreamily. “All my dad cared about was my brothers. Thank God for Mom!”

“Hey, if she’s a princess, you’re a queen, did you know that?” Dana says excitedly. “That’s how she’s gonna know how she’s supposed to be treated!”

You smile at that idea. You feel like a queen already, the way he cares for you.

“Or,” Madison rolls her eyes. “You could do the ocean, but put her castle in?”

“Maybe repaint it to look like a sand castle!” Dana’s eyes widened excitedly.

You look at bridesmaid dresses and try to decide:

As they look over their choices, you decide to let them see your wedding dress which is being fitted.

“Oh, you are so pretty!” Madison gasps tearfully.

“Thank you!” you smile back.

"August is going to love it," Dana shakes her head, her smile wide.

Suddenly your cell rings and Dana answers it for you.

"Hello?" she smiles and rolls her eyes. "Hi, August." She nods, listening. "She can't talk right now, she's in her wedding dress--"

"Dana!" You laugh. "Give me the phone!"

"Oh, I guess she'll talk to you," Dana says, walking the phone to you. "Bye."

You take the phone. "Hi." Dana and Madison make their giggling contagious.

"I take it you are having a good time?"

"Yes, we are," you reply, trying to stand still as the seamstress measures and alters you.

"Will you be home soon?"

"Yes, I will be home soon." Your answer causes another wave of giggles from your small bridal party.

"Alright," he purrs. "Question?"

"What?"

"How easy is that dress to get out of?"

"Back zipper," you giggle.

"Mind on the honeymoon!" Madison laughs outright.

"Great."

You can hear the smile in his voice, that sensual one that affects your core, makes your breath catch.

"Making your favorite for dinner."

You gasp, "Wings with your mystery sauce and mozzarella sticks?"

"Yep."

"Okay, Auggie, I'll be home soon."

"I'll be waiting," his voice is a purr again. "Love you."

"Love you."

"Auggie?!" Madison and Dana exclaim.

"You didn't hear that," you whisper, giving them a wink.

Okay, so ocean or princess or blend it?

Which bridesmaid dress?

Let me know!

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