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odekiisu · 3 years

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Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour

I don’t know about you guys, but I have a hard time keeping the terms for various parts of clone armour straight in my mind. So, I decided to make this Guide To Armour, to make my life easier for those times I’m drawing or writing stuff and need to reference what this, that or the other piece is called, how it’s put on or taken off. (I’ve also tried to include/come up with some casual or slang terms for some parts because you cannot seriously expect these guys to use the Right Proper Terminology for everything all of the time.)

This is based on the Clone Wars cartoons, because that’s what I know best. Also, this is just the standard armour of regular troopers; if y’all want something about the possible additions/variations that you could have then lmk and I’ll see what I can put together I guess?

Note: a lot of this terminology is taken from medieval knights’ armour. Many terms are originally French; alternative names provided where possible. I did do a bit of research on medieval plate armour, which is the closest thing I can think of to clone armour, but I am by no means an expert so if you have any input or corrections feel free to @ me. Likewise, if you’ve cosplayed as a clone trooper or stormtrooper, I’d very much like to hear about your experience wearing this stuff, how it moves and how it might be similar or different to the “real thing” so to speak.

Figure 1: Clone trooper armour, front view. Kix got chosen for this because he’s a vain little bastard and loves to be painted. (ETA: this diagram now comes with a second, funnier version.)

(long post under cut)

Figure 2: Back view of armour.

According to Wookieepedia: The armour is produced on Kamino and has UV spectrum markings visible to Kaminoans. It is made of plastoid-alloy composite, and the plates are attached to the bodysuit via magnatomic gription panels. In general, Phase II armour is lighter, stronger and more ergonomic than Phase I, which has been described as heavy and uncomfortable (Wookieepedia also says that it weighs ‘just under forty kilograms’ which sounds like way too much but eh, I’ll roll with it.)

Body glove/bodysuit – the stuff worn under the armour. Provides thermoregulation, some level of protection from things like blasterfire, vacuum, etc. AKA: blacks.

Helmet – The Bucket. Stuffed full of various tech: tracking device, display screen, comlink… Phase I helmets also have life support capabilities, while Phase II helmets do not, requiring an external oxygen supply*. Helmet crest contains comlink antenna. AKA: bucket, I think Rex once called them sun-bonnets, etc… this is the piece likely to have the most slang terms associated with it. Go wild.

* this is according to Wookieepedia; I’m a bit sceptical but I haven’t yet seen the episode it refers to. I headcanon that Phase II is capable of limited life support for emergency situations, but extended missions require external respirators.

Cuirass – there is some conflicting information on whether this refers to just the front chest armour or both front and back. If both, it consists of breastplate and backplate, joined at the sides and shoulders. Shoulder connections appear to be different for Phase I and Phase II: Phase I has a separate piece covering the shoulder seam, implying that it can be opened, whereas Phase II looks like it has an integrated flexible band; it may or may not be possible to disconnect. Either way, the front and back pieces must be able to separate in order to get the whole thing on.

Plackart – belly piece, wraps around the back to protect kidneys as well. Probably flexible to some extent, has been seen to slide down under belt, as demonstrated by Jesse in Figure 3. Might also have to have at least one open-able seam in it in order for troopers to get into it efficiently.

Figure 3: I have no idea how the lower edge of this isn’t stabbing him in the crotch, but *shrug*.

Spaulder/shoulder bell – also known as pauldrons irl, but that term refers to a different item this context (the pauldrons that commanders, captains and ARC troopers wear), so I feel like it might be better to differentiate between them with different terms to avoid confusion. That’s just my opinion though, you feel free to do as you wish.

Rerebrace – bicep plate. Phase I has cutouts in the back to fit pointy elbows (see below); Phase II does not.

Couter – elbow plate. Pointy elbows in Phase I, unpointy elbows in Phase II, as shown on Figure 4. In Phase I appear to be attached to vambraces in the animated version, Phase II is more mobile. I admit, I’m not a huge fan of this word, I kinda prefer elbow plates.

Figure 4: Phase I and II elbows. Am I getting way too into this that it’s gotten to the point of studying clone elbows? *shrug* who knows.

Vambrace – forearm armour. Has wrist-mounted comlink (see below).

Gauntlet plate – covers back of hand. The 212th absolutely calls these “droid-punchers”, no you cannot convince me otherwise. I think I’ve seen fanon that some troopers sharpen the front edge of this plate to do more damage when punching. Decide for yourself if plastoid alloy would do more damage to the metal of a droid’s chassis if sharpened or unsharpened (and therefore sturdier).

Codpiece/crotch plate – covers the front hip and crotch area. Possible slang term, courtesy of @mockingjay34: cockblock

Skidplate – covers butt and back hip. A lot of troopers probably just call this piece their shebs, and once again you cannot convince me otherwise. Note that in the clone wars cartoon, Phase I armour is triangular in the back and has a sort of erm… diaper shape, in that the codpiece and skidplate are connected in the crotch (I cannot imagine that being comfortable in any situation, but then again, I have Thicc™ Thighs. Do clones have thigh gaps? Also, I would not want to get pinched by the armour joint between crotch and thigh plates).

Figure 5: Sniper Butts! (Featuring Echo and Fives in quite possibly the only comfortable position in this armour.)

In Phase II the crotch and butt pieces are separated, which sounds a lot more sensible, as well as having better butt coverage – think cheeky panties vs full briefs.

Figure 6: Hardcase kindly demonstrating the new crotch plate alongside some significant gaps in his armour… please get yourself some bigger shoulder bells my dude!

I’d imagine that, given the amount of time these guys spend fully armoured, there should be some way of conveniently opening some of this up or removing individual plates for practical reasons (and if any particular trooper wanted to use this feature for… other things, well, that’s their own business).

Cuisse/Thigh plate – covers thighs. Phase I and II have different shapes in the back to account for skidplate shape, with Phase II having significantly less coverage in the upper thigh/butt area, but I guess better range of motion.

Figure 7: Troopers Hardcase and Dogma demonstrating the Butt Cutouts, or Buttouts.

Poleyn/knee plate/knee pad – important for maintaining kneecap integrity. Like elbow plates, appears to be integrated into greaves in Phase I, but moving freely in Phase II.

Greaves – cover shins, nothing fancy.

Boots – boots. Do not appear to be armoured, are soft enough to bend your toes for walking/kneeling/whatever you need bendy toes for.

Belt pouches/boxes/compartments – A place to keep your stuff when out & about. I’m assuming this is a Pocket Substitute. Clones deserve pockets too!

Comlink – Generally four large square buttons and one smaller one (live action has more buttons). They also have comlinks in their helmets. Wookieepedia mentioned that they used wrist comms in the show so that the audience could clearly see when characters were talking to each other. Possibly used for long-range communication, whereas the ones in the buckets could be for shorter range?

Life support/those box things on their back – I have no idea what they’re actually called but these also have different designs for Phase I and II. On stormtroopers they contain a power pack and a small oxygen supply, and I guess it’s reasonable to assume that they have the same life support function for clone troopers. Also read somewhere that they have comlink scanner for long-range communication?

Thermal detonator – why would they all have bombs on their back? Seems unsafe. Also I don’t think I’ve ever seen one used? Idk. These things confuse me.

#star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #clone troopers #clone armor #clone wars meta #wow this got long #also damn I've missed just... sitting down with a mug of tea and going down a research rabbit hole or three #star wars meta

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footballxposts · 3 years

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Assumptions - Mason Mount

Prompt: Doing a TikTok live with them.

Recommended listening: Time After Time by Jessica Mauboy (Spotify).

Warnings: v. long, some swearing but mainly fluffy as hell that’s it

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assumption

/əˈsʌm(p)ʃ(ə)n/

noun

a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof.

Sat at the island in your kitchen, you gently brushed your hair swivelling around on a red painted stool, patiently awaiting your followers to join your TikTok live. One by one they started watching, reaching a thousand then two thousand in quick succession. Your account had grown quite well within a short number of months and you had accumulated quite a large following on the app, though you knew it was mainly due to the fact you were very good friends with Chelsea’s midfielder Mason Mount and made videos with him on the regular.

You hadn’t been friends from childhood as such, but you had known each other throughout secondary school, and when you decided to move to London, you reconnected and ended up living together.

You greeted your viewers and began reading out a few questions in the comments before showing them your new additions to your wardrobe from your most recent clothing haul.

‘Where’s Money Mase?’ one comment read.

‘We want to see Masonnnn!’ another appeared on the screen of your phone.

“Guys Mase is in his room I think I’m not too sure.” You replied. “He might not be actually, I think he could be gone out at the moment. I’ll see if I can find him and if he’ll come on for a bit in a short while I promise.” You told them.

After about twenty minutes to a half an hour of showing them your latest purchases, you eventually gave in to the comments pleading with you to find your friend in your large home.

“Okay, okay guys. I’ll go see if I can find Mase now.” You laughed, turning the chair and standing up whilst you grabbed your phone. “I actually don’t know where he is I’m not joking. I think he’s playing PlayStation in the cinema room.” You quietly made your way down the hall, your voice echoing as the ceilings were quite high and there was very minimal furniture.

You opened the cinema room door and peered your head in whilst flipping the camera to show your viewers if he was there or not, but alas he was nowhere to be found.

“Okay I’m guessing he’s in his room since he’s not there so let’s have a look.” you announced making your way upstairs. Knocking on the wooden door of Mason’s room, you heard a ‘yo whatsup, come in’ sounding from inside. You opened the door widely and a cheery male figure in the darkness turned to face you, a gaming headset on his head.

“Found him guys!” You laughed jumping on his bed. A comment read ‘omggg imagine being on Mason Mount’s bed ahhhh!” Mason scrunched his face and furrowed his eyebrows, questioning who you were talking about him to.

“Sorry I’m on live on TikTok and my followers are sick of seeing my face, they want to see yours and chat to you.” You shook your head jokingly.

“Ahhh.” Mason grinned now being in the loop of what was happening that evening. “That’s understandable though my face is much nicer to look at to be fair.” He laughed, earning him a pillow to the face that you had just thrown. Everyone in the chat of live was now spamming with laughing emojis.

“Cheeky fucker.” You rolled your eyes and mumbled so that you wouldn’t get banned but still made it loud enough for both Mason and your viewers to hear. “So do you wanna come on live with me for a bit or are you happy gaming there?” You asked. Mase respected you a lot for always making sure to get consent of him before posting things that he was involved in and making sure he was comfortable before asking him to join you on your lives etc.

“I’ll just finish up this game and then I’ll join you if that’s okay?” He pointed to the screen.

“Of course.” You nodded, allowing him to continue. “So there you go guys the Mason Mount will be joining us in a bit.” You revealed to the live, your viewers count now reaching over five thousand. You decided to sit on the edge of the bed beside Mason’s gaming setup, watching him play his game of Fifa.

“Come here.” He motioned for you to sit on his lap. You sat on his thighs, the light illuminating your face. You already knew for a fact the comments would be making assumptions about you and Mason being in a relationship again despite only being friends.

‘A little too close for comfort Y/N?’ one comment read, another saying ‘I knew it. Just confirm you’re together guys, we support you’. You read them out to Mase and you both erupted into laughter.

After finishing his game, he turned off his PlayStation and you both headed back down to kitchen as you agreed you were both a little hungry. You both sat at the counter-top eating cereal and joking about.

“Should we play a game or something. Like truth or dare but my followers get to choose what we do or assumptions or something?” You asked.

“Sure.” Mason smiled, Cheerios and milk now spewing out of his mouth, hitting you in the face. He burst out laughing at your jaw dropping. You turned to the camera to show everyone the mess he had made on your pyjamas.

“Oh..my..god Mase! Are you being serious right now?” You squealed, giving him a small punch to the arm. He was now tearing up with all the laughter. You were dead set on giving him the silent treatment, but between his puppy dog eyes begging you for forgiveness and you giggling now yourself, you couldn’t stay mad at him. You wiped yourself with some paper towels and began reading some assumption comments.

“Mason you are better at Fifa than Declan Rice?” You read out. Mason clenched his teeth and turned his head sideways.

“Oof that’s a tough one. Uhm, nah you know what? I’m gonna back myself on this one and say yeah I am better than him. Sorry Dec if you see this!” Mason answered. You nodded, reassuring him he’d made the right choice.

“Yes! Confidence! We love to see it.” You joked. “Okay next one, Y/N it’s true that you’ve seen Mason nake-” you began cutting yourself off so that you didn’t have to read the end of it. “Oops don’t think I’ll be reading that one out.” You laughed.

Mason looked at the phone placed against the cereal box then back at you. “Yeah she has, plenty of times.” He said quite nonchalantly whilst winking. Once again, your jaw dropped.

“No I have not!” You facepalmed yourself, giggling.

“Okay no she hasn’t but she definitely wants to.” He argued. He just didn’t know when to shut up did he? Though in his defence, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Mase!” You sighed smiling at him.

After answering quite a number of football based questions and assumptions, you decided to read out the final two, yawning in the process.

“Okay guys last two. First one is…okay you can answer this one Mase!” You spoke. “You and Y/N fight a lot.”

Mason started laughing once again, smirking at you. “Yeah we fight all the time, she’s a bitch! She’s so annoying honestly.” He teased, nudging you with his elbow. “Nah we don’t, we actually don’t fight at all to be honest. She’s a good egg. Like, she’s everything you could ask a person to be, so there’s very little to even argue over with her. And even if we did, I’d still chose her over and over time after time, cause you don’t get a lot of people like her in this lifetime.” He answered.

Your heart nearly burst with his words. He was so cute, and such a loving person. You could have sworn you were finding yourself falling for him when you both made eye contact after he had said that. Shedding a few tears you heard him ask if you were crying which made him start to wind you up you even further. You gave him a quick ‘shut up’ before continuing to the last assumption.

Mason read it quite lowly, squinting at the screen to make sure he read it right. “You and Y/N aren’t in a relationship you’re just best friends and housemates but you definitely want to be more than that. That’s one for you Miss Y/L/N.”

You froze. You didn’t know how to answer that and you were sure he didn’t either so you were confused as to why he read it out.

“Uhhm.” You chuckled, looking at him. With both elbows now resting on the counter-top, he was now twirling his lip with his fingers, gazing at you. “I don’t really know what to say to that to be honest.” The comments were going crazy with people saying things like ‘they’re definitely in love you can see it in the way they look at each other.’

You took a depth breath still smiling at him. “Well, I mean..I can only speak on my own behalf because I don’t know how you feel about that statement but, yeah you’re one of my best friend’s, you’re very attractive, you make me laugh more than anyone else and if the opportunity presented itself to be more than friends, I think..” you trailed off, unsure if what you were about to say was okay.

“Go on.” He said beaming back at you.

“I don’t know!” You laughed flapping your arms like a toddler accidentally slapping his side. “I think I’d probably take it but obviously it’s a two way street and it would only work if both of us were on board. But that’s just hypothetical anyways.” You shyed away.

“Would you actually? Do you actually fancy me as more than a friend?” He practically whispered. You shrugged your shoulders biting your lip.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with you you idiot.” He stated. Your eyes widened. “I’d definitely take the chance to be more than friends with you.” You couldn’t form any words, so you just sat there taken aback, mouth wide open in the shape of an ‘O’.

“Seriously?” You asked softly.

“Yeah..” he smiled. Reaching over to the button to end the live, he told you to say goodbye quickly so you did, telling your followers you’d speak to them soon. As soon as the live ended, he gave you a quick ‘come here’, a hand placed on your thigh, gripping it whilst the other cupped the side of your face, as he pressed his lips against yours. And in that moment, you finally realised what people meant by feeling a spark and finding your soulmate, little did you know it would be so close to home.

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A/N: I can’t remember who asked for this one but I hope you like it anyways pretty 🧚🏻‍♀️ Also am sorry it’s so long lmao I could write rubbish for hours 💫

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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So, here is this idea that won't let me go today: August finds your tumblr account and presents you with a hitlist of steamy fics you wrote or reblogged in order to make you relive them with him roleplaying...

August Walker x fem!reader

Wordcount: 674

Warnings: Mentions of sex, spanking, daddy kink, sub/dom dynamic, punishment

A/N: Okay sorry it took me awhile (i haven't forgotten about your other prompt, don't worry hihi)

August knew everything and if he didn’t, it only took a matter of time for him to find out. However, when he met you and the two of you started dating, it took him everything not to do a full background check on you, have you on surveillance and put spy software on your devices. He wanted to respect you and your privacy.

But there was something about the cheeky grin or the complete pokerface you had painted on your face whilst being on the laptop, either reading or typing away, that made him wonder:

What caused that?

Like usual, the two of you are sitting at the dining table, both behind your respective device. You stand up, close your laptop and say: ‘I’ll be right back.’

He simply nods, as he is reading something for work, but still receives a kiss before you leave the room. The second you have disappeared, he gets up from his seat and hurries himself to your laptop. When he opens it, he can’t help but smirk when he realizes he was right in time and you don’t have to re-enter your password.

It’s a Tumblr account? Oh, this must be yours… He checks your profile and can’t help but click his tongue in approval when he sees your Tumblr name:

a-babygirl-in-august.tumblr.com

When he strolls through your account, he notices a ton of both reblogged work and some pretty dirty stories you posted yourself. During sex, the two of you were always pretty vanilla, despite him wanting more than just vanilla, but you weren’t ready yet. He knew you were quite inexperienced when you met, so he slowly pushed you into the direction he wanted, but emphasis on slowly.

His well loved title finally managed to slip passed your lips during sex, though he wanted it to be a regular thing. You two would engage in a little public activity and two days ago, you’d allowed him to bring some toys in the bedroom.

But the things you write about and read about, is that what you really want? The spanking, the rough sex, getting caught and not caring, using restraints and giving the other person full control?

It’s like he’s in paradise.

‘August, do you think that— Oh no, stop it!’ You rush towards him, closing the laptop, with panic into your eyes. ‘How much did you read?’

‘Enough,’ he says, pulling you on his lap. ‘Never knew I had such a submissive baby girl sitting here.’

You want to hide your face in your hands, but he is faster, gently holding both of your wrists in his hand. ‘Stop,’ you say, ‘this is so humiliating.’

‘Why is it?’ he asks. Knowing you are on the verge of shutting down, he decides to take a bit of a gentler approach, one he only uses when he is around you. ‘Because from what I saw, there are a ton of things you and I should try out in the bedroom and outside of it. There’s nothing wrong with a little exploring.’

‘August,’ you sigh, ‘we can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because… What I read and write, is how I want it in a perfect world.’ You chew on the inside of your cheek before adding: ‘And that can’t happen, because I am not sexy enough to live in this perfect world.’

You can say all sorts of crazy stuff to him, but this is just plain stupid and unacceptable. ‘What did you just say? You think are not that sexy?’ He stands up from the chair, holding you tightly in his arms and shakes his head. ‘That is officially the stupidest thing you’ve said to me since you and I met.’ He drops you on the bed and takes off his belt. ‘How about a little punishment, sweetheart?’

Your eyes widen, before they start to glimmer with excitement. ‘Why?’ you innocently ask, doing all sorts of stuff to his groin. ‘Have I been bad, daddy?’

He scoffs. ‘Oh, baby girl, you have no idea.’

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker prompt #august walker smut #august walker x reader #august walker x female reader

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

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Male octomer x reader (nsfw) - Mermay story #3

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This has been up on my patreon now for a little while, and folks seemed to like him a lot over there, and the preview I posted got some excitement too, so I hope you’re ready for Caspian!

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As first days went, this one wasn’t necessarily a complete disaster.

However, walking into the specially-designed meeting room at the aquatic and oceanography research station in Starfall Springs with a very suspicious looking (and entirely innocent) wet crotch, you did feel your cheeks heat up. The room itself reminded you strongly of a beach hut or the like, with scrubbed and white-washed wooden floors, and white-painted, ship-lap walls, and a wide window at one end, overlooking one of the sandy beaches of the wider curve of coastline that was Starfall Bay itself.

The research station was built right at the end of a rocky cob; a curving, protective wall which jutted out into the sea. A section of the floor of this room at the furthest end of the station had been cut away to allow a kind of trap door to be opened into the water itself, allowing for merfolk of all kinds to be present at meetings and consultations, without running the risk of drying out on land.

The merman who was currently resting with his huge, bulky, tanned arms on the lip of the opening took one look at your soaked jeans and hitched a lopsided, cheeky smirk. Your feet faltered at the sight of him; not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was also massive. He had dark hair that was cropped very close to his skull in a side-shave that revealed tapering ears which were attractively tinged with an inky purple tone at the tips, while the rest of his hair was longer on the top. Sections of it flopped into his warm, cocoa brown eyes, and your heart definitely lurched in its regular rhythms.

Below him, visible through the rippling water, you could see glimpses his lower body. He was not like the other merfolk you’d met so far since starting work at the station. Eight muscular tentacles billowed gently in the washing currents, the skin a rich, mulberry purple with paler, lilac undersides. You tried not to stare or flush any hotter.

The only other person in the room besides the two of you was Garreth. When the leader of the Starfall Bay Conservation Society saw the slightly soggy state of you, the werewolf tipped his head back and laughed. “I see Naomi forgot to warn you about the tap in the kitchen…” he chortled.

The octomer in the water chuckled softly to himself, a low, amused rumbling, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Not my finest moment. Is everyone here?”

Garreth shook his head. “We’re still waiting on Elliott. He was supposed to have brought me the report on the plastic survey for this quarter, but he didn’t show up yesterday.”

The octomer snorted. “Probably forgot… or got distracted by pearl diving or something…” he said dismissively.

“Let’s hope he brings it with him today,” Garreth said. “Now,” he added, turning to you, “Let me introduce you properly to Caspian. He’s the newest of our three representatives and mediators between the merfolk and the land-folk. He’s also working on a joint project at the research laboratory which is measuring ocean temperatures and the effects on the coral reefs just offshore.”

“Awesome,” you said, stepping over hand holding out your hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Caspian’s upper body was tanned a deep, nutmeg brown, and as you bent down, you saw a smattering of darker freckles across his cheekbones and down the length of his straight nose. His eyes were dark and kind, and they sparkled when he smiled. He really was huge though, you realised as you got close; had he been a human, he might have been pushing seven feet tall, with the broad shoulders and muscles to match.

His hand engulfed yours as he shook it, and his palms were rough and hard as a life-long sailor’s might be. “Looking forward to working with you on this project,” he said. “If our fourth member ever turns up…” He cocked his head slightly and you watched his tentacles tuck in so that he didn’t occupy quite so much space in the hatchway. “Ah… speak of the devil-fish…”

The final arrival shot into view with a stream of bubbles, a splash of water, and a burst of bright orange colour. He stuck his head above the surface, grabbed onto the side, slipped off, waved his long, floaty tail to bring him back to the edge and tried again. “Sorry I’m late!” he gasped. “I didn’t realise the time…”

Garreth laughed. “It’s alright, Elliott. We were kind of expecting you to be late.”

Elliott’s pale cheeks flushed almost as scarlet as his fiery tail, and he looked away. “I did bring the report this time though,” he said, shyly bringing out a clipboard with the report filled in with special pencil on waterproof paper.

The mer looked to be barely into his twenties, with long, flame-orange hair that was currently tied back with a length of seaweed at the nape of his slender neck. Sections of it had come loose, however, and they had plastered themselves to his alabaster face, half covering bright green eyes. Beside Caspian, he looked like an ornamental koi or betta fish, more suited to the safety of a secluded pond than the rough moods of the open sea.

Caspian, however, looked like he could weather anything the sea threw at him.

Your first assignment on the new project - monitoring the health of the reef, including pollution levels in the water - took you out into the field with him as your partner. You, of course, took the small RIB that the organisation owned, and Caspian had promised to meet you out there. True enough, as you slowed the small boat, he popped his head up above the water and grinned at you.

“You made it!” he called, waving.

“There was doubt?” you chuckled, cutting the engine and dropping the boat’s small anchor.

He only laughed. “You want me to check the anchor’s set ok?”

With a smile, you said, “Sure, if you wouldn’t mind.”

When he’d re-emerged, you passed him the various bits of equipment for data and sample collection and he dove down repeatedly, breaking the surface with minimal splash each time before handing you back whatever it was he’d collected for the project.

After the last sample had been stowed safely, he clicked his tongue at you and you looked round, puzzled. “Did I forget something?”

Caspian flashed you a broad grin. “Not exactly. Here…” and he handed you a shell.

At first, it looked like an ordinary scallop shell; pretty enough, but nothing special. Frowning with mingled confusion and curiosity, you turned it over and saw that the shell had a strange, dark colouring to it. The natural discolouration, however, resembled a little smiley face, with two eyes and a little curving, slightly wonky mouth that very much reminded you of someone… You held it up next to his face, laughing, and snapped a picture on your phone. “Looks just like you!” you said. “I didn’t know scallops painted portraits…”

Indignantly, Caspian cupped his hand and slapped it into the water, sending a large wave spraying straight at you. With a shriek, you lurched away from it, caught your calves on the side of the RIB, and fell backwards into the water.

Panic flared instantly and you flailed and sucked in a mouthful of water before you could stop yourself. In a rush of dark tentacles, Caspian grabbed you and practically threw you back into the RIB. Coughing violently, you rolled over onto your hands and knees, and he cursed.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t… Are you alright?”

You couldn't answer immediately, and when he got no response, he started to haul himself up onto the boat to get to you. The flimsy thing rocked alarmingly and then began to tip under his enormous weight, and you flapped your arm at him to try and get him to back off. It wasn’t going to sink, but he could still roll it enough that the contents - including you - might very well all roll out. You hadn’t the breath spare to tell him you just needed a moment.

He seemed to get the message and flopped disconsolately back into the water, still clinging to the side of the boat and staring at you with wide eyes.

With a tentative croak, you said, “I was not ready for that…!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think that… Well… I guess that’s it: I just didn’t think.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes stinging from the salt water, and still streaming from coughing so hard, and you saw the worry in his big brown eyes. You pushed yourself upright, sitting back onto your knees to catch your breath, and ran your hand through your dripping hair. “Good thing I dropped my phone into the boat when I fell,” you said wryly. “If I’d have lost that, you’d really be in trouble.”

His lopsided smile flickered back into life across his face as the worry receded, and you shook your head. “Are you alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “If you were a landfolk guy, I’d at least make you buy me a drink for that,” you grumbled. “Jeez, now everyone’s going to think I’m completely incompetent. Can’t work a simple tap on my first day; can’t stay in a simple boat on my second… ugh.”

“You can tell them I did it,” he said.

“Yeah?” you snorted, raising your eyebrows. “And who do you think they’ll believe? The handsome genius researcher, or the clumsy new kid?”

Caspian blinked at that. “What?”

“Yeah. Just what I thought. Look, I’m going to get these samples back to the station before they all get cross-contaminated or something, and get me into some warm, dry clothes. It might be summer, but the wind is freezing out here. I’ll… see you back at the station when the results are back, I guess.”

“Wait,” he called as you started towards the outboard. “Wait… are you angry with me?”

You’d started to shiver with the windchill on your soaked body. “No,” you sighed. “No, I’m not angry. I’m just… cold. And embarrassed, I guess. I’m not a very good swimmer and I panicked. Look, forget it, ok? I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, you just left him and turned the RIB back to the station.

Garreth was standing on the jetty, watching you come in, and when he saw the state of you, his eyes widened. “What the hell happened?”

“Caspian.”

The head of the team scowled. “What? Are you ok?”

“Fine,” you snapped. “Just cold.” You tossed him the line and he secured the RIB for you.

“I’ll sort all this,” he said, gesturing at the samples. “You go inside and get dried out.”

With a watery smile of thanks, you brushed past him and headed inside.

But of course, you had no spare clothes with you because you’d left the bag - which you’d deliberately put out that very morning for just such an emergency - in the hallway of your apartment. “Fuck!” you cursed as you realised where it was. “Fucking perfect.”

It was only then that you noticed that you were not alone. A very sheepish and unusual-looking creature was standing at the research station’s main entrance, staring straight at you. “Hello?” he said in a quavering tenor.

He was one of the strangest mer you’d yet encountered, with a large, orange shell behind him, and crab legs sticking out the bottom of it, while a humanoid torso rose out of the opening so that he looked a little like the mer equivalent of a drider or arachnid.

You turned to him and said, “Can I help you?”

“I… I’m here to talk to Garreth about some activities for the children’s summer camp… but if this is a bad time?”

“It’s a bad time for me, but not for him. He’s just tying up the RIB out back. He’ll be here in a moment, I’m sure.”

A second or two later, Garreth’s heavy boots on the wood announced his return. “Leo!” he grinned when he saw the hermit-crab mer standing there awkwardly, blushing and trying not to stare at your chest where your t-shirt was now plastered to your skin. Garreth turned to you and said, “Did you have some spare clothes?”

Miserably, you shook your head.

“Hang on. I’ve got a t-shirt you can borrow at least. You can hang anything else over the chains on the jetty. With this breeze and sun, they’ll be dry in no time. Just… tie them down well, ok? No need to lose them and have you going skinny dipping…”

You all snorted a laugh at that, and in no time you’d put on one of Garreth’s huge t-shirts and had hung your shorts over the little safety chain along the jetty. It felt a bit indecent to be sitting there in the sun wearing only your underwear and a colleague’s t-shirt, but there was no one there to gawp.

At least, you had thought you were alone until you glimpsed the smooth, billowing movements of a now-familiar octomer swimming through the waters of the harbour towards the station.

You’d been trailing your toes in the water, leaning back on your hands, but as he changed course and swam directly over to you, you sat forwards, hunching a bit and tugging the t-shirt down as far as you could. It still only grazed the top of your thighs. You felt the heat flushing from your face all the way down to your collarbones, even before he surfaced.

Caspian, for all his rugged size and good looks, appeared even more flustered and awkward than you as he stared at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off your bare legs for a very long time, and when he did, he swallowed thickly and took a couple of goes at speaking before anything actually came out. “So… uh… I… I hoped you’d still be here,” he finally said.

You just raised your eyebrows. He really didn’t deserve to be given such a hard time over this, but you were embarrassed.

The octomer smiled sweetly and said, “I… I had hoped our first job would go better… You see… I’ve never worked with a human before.”

“I thought you were doing a joint project with the research lab in town?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded. “I am. The team is composed of non-humans.”

“Oh.”

“You said… You said if I were landfolk you’d make me buy you a drink…”

“Huh, I did, didn’t I?” you smiled.

Caspian’s chocolate coloured eyes drifted downwards again and you watched the thick tentacles writhe below the water.

“Look, it’s fine,” you chirped before he could speak. “I fell overboard, I got wet, no harm done. Let’s put it behind us. But next time I’m definitely not standing up at all in that thing.”

He hitched a lopsided grin, conjuring a dimple in one tanned cheek. “Listen, if we’re starting over, I want to ask you a question. Do you know about the Moonlight Festival?”

You frowned and shook your head. “No.”

Caspian swallowed and licked his lips nervously. “Ok, well… it’s… it’s a long-held festival in the bay. On certain summer nights, the sea glows. Way back when, we used to think it was magic, but now we know it’s actually just bioluminescence caused by a species of dinoflagellate called Noctiluca scintillans…” he broke off at the slight smirk of amusement growing on your face. “Fuck. Way to take the ‘magic’ out of it. Look, it’s a big festival, and the sea glows, and the landfolk like it, and the merfolk come and piss around in the water, and it’s pretty. I thought maybe you’d like to come. With me. But…”

“Caspian,” you said, laughing softly. “You’re not at all what I expected, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, a touch defensively.

You took a deep, slow breath and shrugged. “I went to college with a lot of guys who looked like you.”

“There were octomer at your college?” he blurted.

“No!” you laughed, tipping your head back and cackling at the thought of a bunch of eight-limbed octomer flip-flopping down the corridor of a very human-orientated, landlocked college. “Oh man, I wish there had been. No, I just meant there were lots of big, handsome, sporty-looking guys who relied a lot on their looks and ‘charisma’ to get what they wanted. I honestly thought you were one of them… Clearly, I was very wrong.”

His face was a mask of confusion. On the one hand, he looked pleased, and on the other, somewhat deflated. “So I’m just a huge nerd?”

“You want to know something?”

“Go on then.”

“I’d rather go to a festival about bioluminescent plankton with a nerd than with one of those guys…”

Caspian bowed his head and rumbled a laugh. “Alight then. And I promise to behave this time…”

You stood, self-consciously holding the hem of the over-sized shirt close to your thighs, and looked down at him. His jaw was ever so slightly slack, and his eyes shone. You bit your lip, unwilling to entertain the idea that the huge octomer could be attracted to you, despite the evidence to the contrary. Deciding to be a little braver, you let go of the fabric of the shirt and let it blow about a little in the breeze.

Caspian’s throat bobbed and he ducked a little lower in the water. “I’ll… yeah I’ll see you then,” he mumbled, and then he vanished.

With a boost of confidence like that, you felt a little bolder about your choice of outfit for the festival. When the evening came round, it found you wandering down through Starfall Springs towards the beach wearing loose summer clothing and simple sandals. Little lanterns had been lit all along the beach, and you were astonished to see the sheer number of merfolk in the water. You’d not known there were so many who were willing to interact with the landfolk.

Like a pod of beached dolphins, some had even hauled themselves up onto the sand and were laughing and chatting with the landfolk, while others played about in the water. You could see a faint blue glow as they breached and splashed, but the sun was still up, and the full effect of the bioluminescence was not really visible yet.

You hadn’t been in Starfall Springs all that long, so you didn’t really know very many people. In fact, you didn’t know anyone outside of work at the research station yet, and that job was only a part time one that you’d secured until you could find another that was full time. Following your instincts, you headed away from the crowds and towards the research station at the far end of the bay.

You’d not arranged a place to meet Caspian for the festival, and since your fateful first trip, your schedules had not actually aligned. You figured that without having organised anything, the station was the logical place to go. Plus it stopped you looking like a lemon, standing on the beach on your own.

All was dark and quiet inside the station, and you didn’t even bother going inside. Instead, you made your way round the outside, following the boardwalk until it became the jetty, and sat down to watch the sunset with the curving wall of the cob behind you.

Time passed, accompanied by the rush and hiss of the sea, and of the laughter and music of the festival in the bay beyond the station. There was a lonely kind of peace to it, and you took your sandals off and trailed your toes in the water again. A silvery blue shimmer rippled through the water as you moved, and you smiled at the sight of it. You’d seen videos of the phenomenon before, but had never experienced it in person.

A shadow moved in the water and you instinctively recoiled, drawing your feet up. Sliding his head out of the water, Caspian looked up at you, his handsome face highlighted with blue and white lights as the bioluminescence ran off him. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

You lowered your legs back in and laughed. “It’s fine. I was a bit lost in thought anyway. You found me then…”

He smiled and swam closer, the water flashing in mesmeric pulses around his body. “I figured you’d come here,” was all he said in answer. He raised his hand and the plankton flashed across his fingers. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, swinging your feet back and forth and watching the lights dance.

Caspian watched your movements as though captivated.

“Can I ask you something?” you said after few moments.

“Sure.”

“When you said you’d never worked with a human before, does that also mean you’ve not really been around many humans at all?”

He flushed and looked away. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re staring at my feet as though they’re something… alien.”

“I can’t imagine what they’re like, that’s all. What it’s like to have only two limbs… to walk… to… yeah. I’m sorry.” He broke off, scratching the back of his head.

“You can touch if you want,” you said, perhaps a little coyly.

He turned in the water and looked up at you with eyes wide and alive. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Just don’t tickle me. I don’t want to kick you in the face.”

“You’re not that angry with me then, or you wouldn’t have warned me,” he grinned as he swam even closer and raised his hands in the water.

He slid his cool fingertips over your ankle and the top of your foot, and the moan you let out was not a sound you’d expected or intended to make.

“Is that ok?” he asked, touch faltering.

“Mmhmm,” you said. His fingers were surprisingly gentle, if tough, and as he closed his fingers and thumbs around both ankles and gripped experimentally, you inhaled sharply. If he’d wanted to, he could have dragged you off the jetty and into the water in a flash, but instead, he simply explored you with a stunning degree of reverence and delicacy.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, pulling himself slightly closer to you through the water. His limbs trailed behind him in the water, but you could see they were all flared wide, like an open parachute.

“So are you, Caspian,” you replied. “And you’re the most beautiful colour… you know that?”

He smiled and ran his palm up your calves.

You’d parted your legs before you knew what you were doing.

Caspian’s touch faltered and he looked away. “I…. probably shouldn’t…” he whispered.

“Caspian?”

“Yeah?” he said, his rich baritone hoarse and rasping all of a sudden.

“Can you… I mean… Can octomer leave the water at all? I know octopuses can, but… I actually don’t know all that much about your kind…”

He nodded. “Sure we can. Not indefinitely, but for a good amount of time. Why? You want me to come up there and join you?”

“I think it’d be easier than me trying to tread water…” you smiled.

“I’d hold you up,” he said, but he made his way towards one of the sturdy pilings which supported the jetty and latched his limbs around it. They were as muscular and powerful as the top half of his anatomy suggested, and with relatively little effort, he hauled himself up with a rush of glittering water.

Once he was on the wood of the jetty, with phosphorescent lights running down the lines of his bulky yet sinuous body, you felt your own mouth go very dry. He loomed over you while you remained seated, and he used his tentacle-like legs to pull himself towards you.

“Not too freaked out?” he said.

“Not at all.”

You turned to face him and he settled himself down beside you. You raised your hand and tentatively traced the lines of his collarbones and down his pecs, almost testing to see if he were really there, and not some salt-water hallucination. Caspian sucked in a breath at your touch, goosebumps prickling all across his torso.

“Ticklish?”

He shook his head, drops of sparkling water scattering around you.

“You like that?”

Mutely he nodded, and, feeling emboldened by his reaction, you continued to touch him, working lower and lower until you came to his hips. The skin at the transition between his human upper half and his octomer lower half was a bruised, inky purple, and the texture of it changed too, from smoothly human to a thick, tough sensation, almost like wet leather. His breathing hitched as you passed on down and shyly ran a fingertip along the top of one of his massive tentacles.

It coiled tightly and then went slack on the wood of the jetty. He started to keel over to one side, as if he were melting under your touch, and he barely caught himself on one arm. “Fuck…” he gasped. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His head lolled backwards slightly and his lips parted to let loose ragged breaths.

You glanced down at his body and saw between his limbs that something else was becoming visible. When he saw you looking, he huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Look at the state you’ve got me into,” he snorted, and he started to pull back, pull away from you.

“Caspian, don’t…” you said. “You don’t have to… I… I want this… if you do…”

He fixed you with an unreadable look. “You mean it?”

You nodded. “You’re gorgeous, and funny, and intelligent… and… I trust you.”

He let out a shaky laugh and bit his lower lip hard. He put the flat of his hand gently onto your leg and began to slide it upwards, pushing the material of your clothes up with it, never breaking eye contact with you. He shifted closer on that writhing mass of limbs until he was rearing up above you. He let one tentacle slide around your ankle, and another began to creep up your inner thigh.

You tipped your head back and closed your eyes at the strange sensation of it. When he discovered a moment later how aroused you were, he moaned and rumbled something that might have been a half-swallowed curse. “You’re so warm,” he said, letting the tip of that tentacle play over your skin.

Fire shot up your spine the moment he began to circle and nudge you, and you arched your back. He caught your face tenderly in his hands and kissed you. His lips tasted of salt, but as his tongue found yours, you suddenly didn't mind. He continued to play with you while he kissed you, teasing you with the smooth, cool tip of his tentacle. When he sought out the heat of you more deeply, you felt yourself clench around him as he pushed gently inside you.

“More,” you gasped, loving the stretch of his tentacle inside you. “Please…”

He nodded and eased you down onto the jetty behind you so that you were lying flat on your back. He used two of his tentacles to undress you and then spread your legs, and once you were open for him, he began to squeeze around you, coiling and covering you with four of his limbs around each of your legs.

“Gods, you look so beautiful,” he said, face alight with wonder as he gazed at you. “You’re so beautiful…”

In the soft light you could see his cock now, flushed purple and fully hard, and weeping a pearly pre-come profusely down its length. It was shaped like a smaller tentacle, thick and ridged towards the base, with a more pointed head, and it coiled lazily in the summer air, drooling drops of his pre-come down onto your thighs. “Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked.

You nodded.

With the highlights of bioluminescence in his hair and on his body, he looked incredible, and it was hard to believe he wasn’t some sea god or something, come ashore for the night as if out of a fairytale. As it was, you didn’t have time for any more lust-filled musings. He slipped the tip of his cock inside you and you gasped as he stretched you. The stretch grew until he filled you utterly, and as he seated himself fully inside you, he bowed his head over you, his whole body tense and taut.

“Gods, you’re so hot…” he hissed. “I mean… the heat of you is… it’s…” he shuddered and then began to move with an embarrassed chuckle as you grabbed his hips.

He started slowly, but soon his rhythm picked up pace. The tentacles that were wrapped around your bare legs began to grip you more and more tightly, each of the suction cups forming a delicious counterpoint to the intense pleasure that the ridges of his cock gave you as he pistoned in and out. His breathing deepened, quickening to match his pace as he lost himself in the feel of you, of being inside your heat. He used his hold on your legs for leverage, and tilted his own hips a little until he caught that spot inside you that made you see stars, and you yelled with pleasure.

“Yes! There… don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you whimpered, and he obliged. He fucked into you hard, the tip of his cock catching you over and over as you felt your orgasm building.

The white hot heat of it rushed up for you and as he squeezed your body just a little tighter with his muscular limbs, he grunted and tipped over the edge first. As the heat of his release filled you, you followed him a second later. Clinging to him, you felt yourself clenching around his cock, drawing his release from him. Caspian’s eyes rolled closed and he bellowed as he emptied himself into you in a series of powerful thrusts.

When he finally finished, he suddenly went limp, his tentacles losing all their strength and sliding off you, unfurling and falling to lie weakly on the jetty. Occasionally one would spasm and then lie quiet again. He just caught himself from crushing you completely, and propped himself up on shaking arms.

“Caspian?” you whispered, still dazed and still clenching around his cock whenever he shifted.

“Mm?”

“You ok?”

“Mm.” He swallowed. “You need me to move?”

“Not just yet.”

“Good, because I’m not sure I can… That was… That was incredible. You’re… You’re incredible.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead since it was all you could reach. He responded by nuzzling gently at your neck and kissing you there.

When he’d recovered, he rolled off you and lay on his back. You turned and watched him for a moment or two, enjoying the sight of his spent, glistening cock still lying openly amongst his limbs.

As you glanced down at your own body, you laughed and groaned at what you saw.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cracking one eye open and looking at you.

You pointed at your legs. “Either I’m going to have to wear jeans tomorrow, or I’m going to have to say I’ve got chicken pox or something…”

He squinted, and when he saw the spiralling patterns of circles that the suckers of his tentacles had left on your skin, he laughed. Some of them, the ones where the tops of his limbs had been, were almost as big as the palm of your hand. “Sorry.”

You shrugged and lay back down beside him. “I might feel differently about them tomorrow, but right now, I couldn’t care less. You know, for your first time with a human, I’d say that was pretty good.”

“Being a scientist though, I can’t just rely on one experiment.”

You elbowed him hard in the ribs and he grunted. “I’m not a curiosity fuck, you know?”

“I know,” he replied, turning more serious. “But would you like me to do it again anyway?”

Turning your head to face him, you saw the way his eyes glittered playfully in the dark. “Yes,” you said very quietly, and you were met with a broad, happy smile. “Would you?”

One hand moved down his body to take his hardening cock in his fist. It writhed gently in his relaxed fingers, still covered in his come and once again leaking everywhere in anticipation of more. “Very much,” he said, and this time, it was you who straddled him.

************************************

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#octomer #exophilia #merman #mermay #octopus monster #gender neutral reader #starfall springs

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mars-in-chaos · 5 years

Text

Princess - J-Hope/Reader

j-hope one-shot

Summary: You can’t get over how lucky you are to be in a relationship with Jung Hoseok. And honestly? Getting to go to every show really isn’t as bad as one might think.

Themes: fluff, smut, brattiness, teasing?

Word Count: 2702

You didn’t expect your summer to go in the direction it had. You didn’t expect to be dragged around the globe, stopping in many different countries. You didn’t expect to be attending the same concert over and over and over again. You didn’t expect to enjoy it more and more every time. You didn’t expect your life to have taken the turn that it did.

Honestly, you didn’t expect to be in a relationship with Jung Hoseok either, but here you are. In a relationship with sunshine and rainbows personified and you’re still in shock and awe every time you think about it. A chance meeting at a small coffee shop, tucked away in the back corner of a less-frequented shopping plaza in the city where you work. A series of exchanged jokes and happy laughter, along with heartfelt smiles led you two to keep in contact. It wasn’t immediate, the feelings weren’t reciprocated instantaneously but they did grow. What started as an innocent friendship later blossomed into something more serious, between texts and FaceTime calls, whispered words of “I miss you” when he was away on the last tour. When he came back and had a few months for a break, when he went home to visit his family for his birthday, he stopped to see you as well, hugs and happy tears aplenty at that pleasant surprise.

Somewhere along the line, the feelings grew strong. You weren’t perfectly fluent in Korean, but he did always say that “language should be no barrier to love” and that meant more to you than anything. You both tried hard for each other, tried to learn each other’s languages so that barrier would be broken down.

When you traveled to South Korea initially, you were expecting to do your job and enjoy the culture. You would go to school each day and teach English to bright young minds who were eager to learn from their pretty young teacher. You would go home each evening and reflect on the day with your fellow English-speaking coworkers. You’d go out on the weekends and drink and dance at nightclubs, not a care in the world. Working hard all week long to ruin it all in that short forty-eight hours allotted to you at the end, and you loved it. You were happy with your life. New scenery, new experiences, new culture, new everything. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more.

And then Hoseok came into your life and flipped it around. But in the best way possible.

You were a fan of BTS prior to coming to Korea, their music was inspiring. It helped you to realize what you truly wanted to do with your life, and while your friends and family teased you relentlessly over your decision, you couldn’t be happier with it.

You never thought your decision would lead you to the best relationship you had ever been lucky enough to get into. You had only been together since February, dating on the super down low, but it was more than enough time, considering your extended friendship.

Hoseok is literally the sweetest man you’ve ever met, and you have had the pleasure of knowing all the men in BTS, so the competition is pretty strong. But somehow you are lucky enough to be with actual sunshine himself. ‘How the hell is this even re-‘

“Gongjunim!”

Your thoughts are interrupted by the cheerful sound of Hoseok’s voice calling you by that pet name you so dearly loved, albeit a little winded, having just finished FAKE LOVE.

“Hobi! You did so amazing! I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” you say with a wink, smiling devilishly. You had been alone in your thoughts, but your eyes had been on him the entire time, standing in the wings of the stage, off to the side just enough that the audience couldn’t see you but still within the sight of the mainstage.

He shoots you a cheeky grin and runs over to you, excited to see you even though you hadn’t left your spot since he went on. Throwing your arms around his neck, not caring the least bit about the sweat on his face, you plant a big kiss on his cheek, lifting your legs off the ground as you hang on him.

“Are you a monkey, gongjunim?” he asks with a grin, wrapping his arms around your waist and swinging you around. You narrowly miss a stray speaker and you squeal loudly, catching a few stray glares from various staff members. You know that you should be quieter but over the sound of Yoongi singing Seesaw, you have a feeling that you’re in the clear. At least for now. But all the same he puts you down, both of you laughing happily as you try to regain your composure.

He stares at you with a wide smile on his face. Your laughter is the sweetest music to him, your smile more beautiful than any constellation in the night sky, and he can’t help but think about how lucky he is to have you. And he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the night, watching you, being with you, just existing next to you. He frowns slightly, knowing how hard it is for the two of you to be together under the close eye of the fans.

You look over at him and shake your head, that big smile still plastered across your face. You reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it lightly as you pick up on what is whirling around in his head.

“Hobi. Babe, we have all day tomorrow to be together. As far as ARMY knows, I’m just another staff member,” you say reassuringly, disappointment lightly painting your tone. It’s hard not to be even just a little bit upset over having to be so secretive with your relationship, but it’s known how crazy fans can be and you’ve heard stories.

He gives you a half-hearted grin and starts, “I know, but-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss, standing on your tiptoes. Sometimes, you just have to curse your height difference, even though it honestly looked so cute in pictures.

Pictures.

Those are another thing. You can’t post them. Not the selfies, not the cute candids, not a single one. And it hurts, the thought that you can’t show the world how much you love and appreciate your boyfriend.

But in all honesty, if you have to be open about it, Hoseok is your whole world. And you make a point to at least show him how much you love and appreciate him on a semi-regular basis.

“Go finish the concert. I’ll be right here, in the wings, waiting for you. And then when it’s over-“ you glance over to each side a couple times and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more, pulling him down to your level and catching him in a kiss, which is quickly reciprocated.

You decide that there’s still enough time left in the remaining solos to show him a little appreciation, so you run your tongue along his lower lip, hoping he’ll catch your drift. And catch it he does, parting his lips to grant you that access you want, allowing you to deepen the kiss.

You run one hand up into his hair and reach back with the other, feeling around for the speaker you two had almost crashed into. As soon as your fingertips made contact, you lean back, grasping at it, finding it just enough to move back towards it. It’s fairly big, tall enough for you to sit on and be able to kiss Hobi without having to pull him over so much. He takes the hint and puts his hands around your waist, lifting you up to sit upon it, never once breaking the kiss. You, in turn, lean into him, loving the feeling of his hands on your waist.

They don’t stay there for long though, you notice as they begin to trail upwards, underneath your hoodie, at an almost innocent pace, until they come to rest on your breasts. He gives them a light squeeze, grunting slightly in annoyance at the presence of your bra, and pushes himself between your legs, spreading your thighs apart where you’re seated, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your bare skin, against what isn’t covered by the tiny excuse for shorts you decided to wear today. He keeps his hands there and stops kissing you, pulling his head back slightly. Not too far, but just enough to look you in your eyes, which mirror his in an intense darkness of desire.

“Gongjunim-“ he mutters, retracting his hands from your hoodie, to rest them on your lower back, pulling you into a tight embrace. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the softness of your hoodie and inhaling the sweetness of your scent. “I don’t want to hide.”

You tilt your head, resting it against his, and smile softly, taking in a deep breath. “Me neither.”

The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, despite only being maybe a few minutes or so, existing within each other’s presence, no words exchanged as the two of you hold your embrace.

You don’t get to have tender moments with Hoseok like this in public very often, or ever really. And it feels so nice to just be held by him. Even when he starts moving his hands downwards to rest at the top of your ass as he places a series kisses against your neck where his head is nestled. You gasp lightly at the feeling of those kisses becoming more needy, lingering, becoming more intense. You can feel him suckling the side of your neck and you crane it further to the side, loving the sensation that is washing through your body.

A gasp escapes your lips when you feel his teeth sink down lightly into your soft skin, followed by the caress of his tongue and more sucking, this time harsher than before. You stifle a small moan at the graze of his teeth, feeling it shoot right through your core.

”Hobi- not now,” you whine quietly, knowing exactly what he is trying to do. His goal is to get you all hot and bothered, as if you aren’t already, and then when this was all over, back to the hotel for a little one-on-one appreciation. ‘If we even make it to the hotel.’

You squirm slightly, hearing the last few verses of Epiphany. ‘When did Jin start his solo?’ You know that he’ll be called back out onto stage quite soon, but he’s too distracted with decorating your neck with plumy-pink bruises, and while you love it, you don’t want to disrupt the flow of the concert. You feel like you already cause enough issues, you don’t want to mess up the performance either.

“Ho-Hoseok-“ you mewl as he places another mark on your skin, running your fingers through his hair. “Epiphany is- Epiphany is over,” you manage to croak out with a quiver. He knows your neck is one of your most sensitive areas and you know that he loves to mark you relentlessly, staking his claim over all parts of your body. You don’t mind in the slightest, in fact you welcome it. You love that feeling of belonging to him, of belonging in general.

“One more, gongjumin,” he mumbles into your neck before nipping lightly at your sensitive skin, drawing another gasp from you. In all honesty, he almost wants to say, ‘screw the show, I’m ready for this performance.’ But he refrains, knowing that you’ll be just as willing at the end of the show as you are right now and that once ‘The Truth Untold’ is over, they’d be getting to the encore soon enough.

You hum, accepting your fate as he attacks your now-tender neck once more with a loving kiss, Jung Hoseok-style. You smile to yourself, rubbing the back of his head with the pads of your fingers, relishing in the attention he’s giving you, via his mouth. You’re having the same thoughts as him and want to bail just as badly. The words hang on the tip of your tongue, but you’re quickly shaken out of your head at the sound of the stage manager calling out “J-Hope!” So with better practiced restraint than that of your boyfriend, you pull away.

“They called you, Hobi.”

He steps back and cocks an eyebrow, tonguing the side of his mouth as his gaze settles on the space between your thighs that he had just occupied. You stare down at his lips, focusing on where his tongue is prodding the edge of them and you huff softly, closing your legs quickly, realizing where his mind has wandered and where his focus is now aimed.

“Jung Hoseok! No! Not now,” you say almost too quickly, leaning forward to cover the tops of your thighs. You can feel that ever familiar warmth growing between them and you want nothing more than to have him right there, but-

“No?” he asks, raising his sightline to meet yours, an inquisitive look in his brown eyes.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. “Not yet,” you correct yourself, giving him a small smile before shooing him back to the stage. “Now go before you get me in trouble!”

Satisfied with your response, he nods and smiles back. He turns on his heel to walk back out but pauses, whipping around to give you a quick kiss and to mutter softly in your ear “do not touch yourself” before dashing out onto the dark stage, thunderous chants of ARMY welcoming him and the two other rappers back now that the vocal line was done and off stage.

You watch him as he retreats onto stage, trying to ignore the wetness that has now made its presence known in your shorts, the feeling of your panties sticking to your core, a direct outcome of his dominant tone. He may be all smiles and sunshine in public and with his brothers, but with you, with you he was a different breed altogether. Still sweet and caring but so in control and sure of himself, so sure of what you need and how to give. Just the thought of what he might do later has you wiggling in your seat. You glance down at where your thighs meet the speaker and purse your lips before looking up and around quickly. Maybe you can get away with a little much needed friction while Hoseok was out there, performing ‘Outro: Tear.’

So, with one more careful glance around and a declaration of a clear coast, you start to sneak your fingers between where the hem of the shorts and your thigh meet. You just barely make contact, feeling the slickness of your arousal with your fingertips, when you feel eyes on you. You shyly look up and meet the eyes of your boyfriend from where he’s stood on the stage, your eyes growing wide before a thought runs through your mind. He isn’t performing just yet, Namjoon still in his verse.

Smiling a coy smile, you trace the outline of your wet folds with two fingers, your breath hitching slightly at the feeling, before pulling them out. You maintain eye contact with your boyfriend as the music starts and bring your fingers up to your mouth, watching as he mouths out your name with a pained look on his face. You cock your head to the side with a bratty smirk and slowly take your own fingers in your mouth, sucking off the evidence of your arousal, all while your boyfriend watches from the stage until he’s forced to look away. You know you’re going to pay for that later but for now, you were content to watch him squirm.

With a laugh on your lips as you watched Hoseok start rapping once Namjoon had ended his verse, one thought playing repeatedly in your mind: ‘This is definitely not how I expected my summer to be at all.’

#j-hope #j hope #j hope x reader #hobi x reader #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #fluff #18+ themes #jung hoseok #j-hope x reader #jung hoseok x reader #i put off writing part 3 of bunny to write this lol #oops

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diningpageantry · 6 years

Text

You Take Me to The Stars

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390507/chapters/36027609

Chapter 4 of 4 of Room for The Two of Us (read chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 here, as well as their corresponding tumblr posts here, here, and here)

Word Count: 3584

Description: Christmas Eve dinner at the Pitch manor doesn't quite go as well as one would hope, but the night isn't completely set ablaze.

Tags (for this chapter): Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort

hey guys there’s a spotify playlist that i made that goes very specifically with a certain part of the fic! i would highly recommend reading the fic before listening to it (and to say, yes, baz is listening to the fist song on the playlist). besides that, i hope you enjoy the finishing wrap up of the fic! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did

BAZ

Snow’s obviously never dressed properly in his life, but he’s a killer in a sharp suit and brushed hair.

Thankfully, he let me do that much to it. I offered him some gel and he looked at me like a madman, so I kissed the look off his face. He kissed me back, tasting like hot chocolate and the little peppermint marshmallows he kept sneaking earlier today.

He tastes like the excitement of a falsely working heart skipping a beat.

He tastes like the knowledge that my father is disappointed in me, but that doesn’t matter. It won’t matter in less than a year, at most, when I drag Snow off somewhere for us to hide from the currently brewing war. We’ll be happy there, and I won’t have to endure the comments about how it’s unnatural that I like men.

I’m nothing close to natural with or without my queerness, but that’s not addressed.

Bigotry is only fashionable when you’re able to be public about it, I suppose.

But I won’t let it stop me; I won’t let it stop my beautiful mess of a boyfriend kiss me in the foyer, snowflakes dusting his hair after I nearly lost it at Nicodemus. I won’t let it stop my sneaking smile as he tells me that he’ll make proper use of my ridiculously large bed that always felt like a sea of untouched satin and silk. It’ll never stop the fact that I’m going to dress my star-shine explosion for the gods for dinner before taking his hand, kissing scarred knuckles and leading him to the table, fingers still keeping an iron-tight grip over his hand.

Father’s icicle-sharp eyes follow our pressed palms and matching scents (Snow’s wearing my cologne; his call), stabbing their sharp ends into my chest as I keep a leveled gaze, lips curling into a half-smile. It’s fake. “Holding up the festivities for us? Oh, you truly didn’t have to.”

SIMON

Everyone’s sat at the table, looking like they’re about to meet the bloody Queen. (Maybe they already know the Queen? I wouldn’t be surprised; this house is practically Buckingham Palace, without all the guards) (Maybe Baz is supposed to be the guard?) (Oh, now I have to get him a knockoff hat). Even though it’s the holidays, it’s a ghost town. He has extended family, obviously (probably), but for what’s usually a huge family dinner, it’s just Baz’s step-siblings, his dad, and his step-mum at an awfully dramatic set up, and they’re all dressed to all hell’s length.

It’s clear that Baz fits in with the posh attitudes and stature of his family. Makes sense why he was fussing over what shoes I was wearing to dinner, despite the fact that I kept trying to tell him that “Baz, it’s indoors. Why do we need shoes?” But he got me in them anyway, telling me I look dashing.

He thinks he can call me handsome and it fixes everything. I mean, it usually does, but that doesn’t matter. His regular compliments feel alien, especially given the fact that he’s so particularly soft when he does it that he calls me Simon properly, without a tone of sarcasm.

It took some adjusting. That, and he likes kissing. A lot. And everywhere. If I’m even changing my shirt, he’ll find a way to kiss my shoulder before I put the new one on. Can vampires mark their territory? Or is that too much like a werewolf? If vampires can, then I’m going to assume that that is exactly what Baz is trying to do. I think. He tried snogging me in a corridor during one of our last days at Watford before break and I had to spell us invisible so a second year wouldn’t catch us with my hand up the front of his shirt.

I like it, though. It feels awfully natural to have Baz on my lap, or his hand pressed against my hand.

It feels more natural than most other things I do.

Being here, even with his family’s eyes (or, mostly it’s his father’s) staring daggers into us as we sit side by side, close enough to keep our hands locked as dinner begins feels natural.

It’s relatively quiet for the first bit. Foods pass around, Baz turns it down (I hold his hand tighter), and everyone eats in what seems to be their own private bubble. Some conversations pop up, like Father Christmas or classes at Watford and how they’re different from Baz’s parent’s day.

Which, of course, provokes the conversation of the old days. Baz holds my hand tighter as his father begins to go on.

“Back when I attended Watford, it was proper magic families, with proper power.” He looks at me, avoiding to look between us. Baz’s knuckles are a ghostly white as he squeezes the life out of mine. Mr. Grimm continues, glancing at Baz. “When I attended Watford, the boys would date girls, as they’re supposed to. And they’d marry in roughly as powerful families, with roughly the same amount of magic, give or take a little.” His voice seems to lower but doesn’t tremble in the slightest. “It’s all about keeping the bloodlines pure, isn’t it, Basilton?”

I can feel his anger bubble up even before I dare sneak a glance at his face. It’s stone cold, as calculating as ever. Then he smiles that venomous smile of his. “The concept of purity is obsolete,” he says slowly, the stiff grin plastered across his face, “if there can’t be an allotment for happiness.”

The air is starched rigid as his father shoots a look at our hands before looking back up at Baz’s face, a smile mimicking his with all the intent. “You’re a disappointment to the bloodline.”

And that’s where Baz snaps.

BAZ

I barely feel my own body as I untangle my hand from Snow’s, throwing the neatly set out napkin that previously took seat on my lap onto my empty plate as I stand, chair scraping aggressively against the floor. Good, I think as father cringes. I meant that. “Excuse me, I’m going to my room. No need to follow, because either way, I’ll still be a disappointing faggot.” I shoot him a lasting grin before stomping off, heading off and slamming the door behind me.

SIMON

I don’t follow him immediately. Partially out of fear, partially out of shock. It takes a few seconds and a few empty, unknowing glances to his family (are they really letting this happen?) before excusing myself nearly silently, pushing my chair in behind me before starting back towards where I saw Baz disappeared off to.

In all honesty, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going in this house. It takes a good five minutes of looking for landmarks (a painting, a statue, something) to find even a familiar hallway, then another ten to find Baz’s room.

Fortunately, it’s not locked, so I step in to try to find him. At first, I don’t see a sign of him until I notice that his bathroom light is on, flooding out from the crack underneath the door.

Silently, I shut the door and make my way over, creaking open the bathroom entrance, and there he is. His jacket is unbuttoned, and he undid a couple more of the buttons on his shirt. His god-awful indoor shoes are thankfully abandoned as he just sprawls back in his ridiculously luxurious bathtub, earbuds in as he listens to god knows what. Whatever it is, it’s nearly deafening, even from here. Heavy base, blasting pump by pump in his ears. I see his head movements go along with it to it, eyes shut and mouth soundlessly following the words. It’s aggressive. He’s aggressive. His lips curl as he silently spits out long phrases, and when it’s just instrumental, his brow furrows as he nods to it. It’s reckless.

He is reckless, and I love that. Even with sad smiles and worried tugs at my heart, I know inside me that it’s just Baz being his dramatic self.

I walk over, sitting in the tub with my back to him before laying against his chest, taking his hands in mine and kissing them, loose presses of my lips against the knuckles that were earlier holding on for dear life. At first shoots his eyes open to watch me, then he relaxes against me, body shifting to accommodate my mass existing between him and the outside world. He accepts me into his own bubble.

“Why’d you pick the bathtub?” I ask as he turns off his music, setting his phone aside. He takes the moment to push my hair back, lips ghosting over my forehead.

“Because,” he begins, his voice dipping to a private murmur. “It’s the only place that I know you’re mad enough to look for me in, but nobody else would take the effort to find.”

I smile, sinking into him. He’s the ocean, and I’m an anchor, drifting against his current, but sinking to the bottom. He holds me there, arms cradled against mine in a protective clutch. I can’t be swept away, so I just settle against him, letting the world surround us in its allowing embrace.

BAZ

“Did you know,” Snow fills the air, head lolling back to perch against my shoulder. I steal a few kisses from his cheek. He smiles, continuing, “did you know that-that I thought about you constantly? For years, Baz. Years.”

I chuckle against him, trying to refrain myself. It comes out anyway. “I would hope so; we’ve been sharing a room since we were 11, Snow.” He pinches my hand.

“Stop being cheeky,” he whispers back, smiling. Good. Smile. “I meant… I guess… You know…” Snow exhales slowly; I watch his chest deflate as I rest a hand over his heart. “I followed you around and watched you sleep and… and… fuck, this is embarrassing, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Who do I have to tell?” I remind him, undoing his shirt buttons carefully and painstakingly slowly before pressing my fingertips to his skin. Warm; heart pulsing under his skin.

He seems to watch my hand as it rests, his head turning to fill his face into my neck. He breathes in. “I may have thought of you while kissing Agatha sometimes,” he mumbles into me. I can feel him blush. “Used to think it was because I was thinking of you going off and doing some shit, or because I was worried about you stealing Agatha way, but I… I guess not? I don’t know. It’s stupid. I would chase after you and watch you sleep. Christ, Baz, I was a nutcase. I’m stupid.”

My fingertips trace circles around his skin before sliding down a little to let my palm rest. “It’s not stupid at all. Do you know how often I thought of you, Simon?”

He shakes his head once. Twice.

“I spent the majority of fifth year hating myself and you because I felt like I could never have you. That’s why I essentially went off that year on you; I was hurt. I was angry at myself, I was upset because the world wouldn’t let me have you. You, Simon, are always at the forethoughts of my mind.” I stop, shifting us a little so I can look into his eyes. They’re perfectly him. “Have you ever really taken a look at the clear night sky and watched the stars?”

Snow shakes his head again, listening intensely.

I relax us back again, pulling him close, feeling all his working life pump against my empty body; I don’t mind it at all anymore. Snow has enough life for the two of us. “I used to; mum would tell me how she hung the moon for my father. Even after her death, I’d gaze up and count as many stars as I could before I’d drift off to sleep, dreaming of constellations. I always wanted to be a story in the sky; remembered for eternity. In my dreams, I’d reach up and pluck a star from the sky and keep it close, let it keep me warm. We’d be symbiotic, the star and I.” My lips press to Snow’s head, breathing him in for a second. My star. “You’re a supergiant, Simon. You burn brighter than anything I’ve ever seen, and you burn me from the outside in. I’m just the floating black matter, surrounding your phenomenal pull and I can’t back away, clinging to your existence.

“Father told me that holding a star would hurt me, and Crowley, I burn when I hold you, but you’re a sickness that I never want to recover from. I close my eyes are there you are, my match in the dark. I open my eyes and you’re still there, blinding me with your UV rays. Each time you kiss me, you shoot me out into the oblivion of the universe and we dance among the swirling galaxies and the bursting supernovas of your aura. You take me to the stars, Snow, and I breathe in the bursting gas-flames of your life because that’s all I’ve ever wanted; a star in my hands.”

He looks up at me like I’ve pulled him out of my pocket, leaving a burst of stardust behind me as he shoots up into my sky in a smile, kissing me and filling my inky-black hole of a life with his sunshine. He lingers, hands shooting into my hair to hold me in place as he kisses me sweetly.

Eventually, he lets back, eyes exploring my face. “How long’ve you been working on that one?” he breathes, lips twitching into a grin. I grin back.

“A little too long,” I whisper back, a hand resting against his hip. “Much longer that I’d care to admit.”

He seals that with a kiss, shutting me up for a good while.

SIMON

He’s so ridiculous.

That’s what I love him for.

BAZ

Snow presses an extra kiss against my cheek once he breaks apart, analyzing me. Studying me. I wonder if I’m his favorite book to read.

“If all of this,” he waves over us briefly, “never happened, what do you think would’ve happened? Would you have told me?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“I don’t want anything but that.”

“Well,” I say, shifting him in against me. “I would’ve probably taken it to the very end. You’d have a swing at me, crash that sword into my chest and then, then I’d finally tell you. I’d let it out at the very end, in a brilliant blaze of glory, and I’d kiss you with my last breath.”

He snorts at me. Not the response I wanted, but maybe the response I needed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He kisses my cheek, giggling just the slightest.

“No, really, what is it?”

“It’s just… so you. Make me suffer after killing you. Last bow, eh?”

I grin. I suppose he’s right, it is very in-character of me. “It’s better than never telling you; it needs to be put out there. Life isn’t unlimited, and therefore our thoughts and feelings are limited, too. Human existence is finite. One day, neither of us will exist, and it’s pointless not to let it out before that happens.”

His eyes bare a hole into my face, scorching it. I meet them.

SIMON

I can’t help but watch him, heart tugging. He’s right. We’re only here so long, and maybe I’m here much shorter than he is. Maybe we’re both not here for so much longer. “Where do you want to be in three years?” I know my answer; anywhere. Alive somewhere. Alive and holding Baz’s hand.

He blinks blankly, staring at me before cocking an eyebrow. Not the expected question, probably. He lowers it after a moment, looking over me. “I’m serious, Baz. I want to know.”

Baz clears his throat, seeming to think. “Okay. Alright, I want to be in uni. I want a flat in London. I want a black cat to live there with me, preferably with a ridiculous name like “Muffins”. That flat should have high ceilings and a balcony, and room for a boyfriend to be there with me when he pleases. A golden boyfriend who responds to Snow.”

I smile, biting my lip. “I just want to be alive,” I whisper. His eyes flash to mine and I see him flinch in the slightest. He knows what I mean.

“Merlin, Snow, I didn’t mean that we were going so soon. Don't say that sort of shit we’ll be just--“

“Baz,” I whisper, holding his face and grinning. “It’s not something we can avoid, so we enjoy it now. You said it yourself, we’re limited. So, just kiss me, okay? That’s good enough for me right now. It’s more than good enough; you’re more than good enough.”

“I’m not—we need to figure out something, Snow. You’re not going to—“

“Human existence is finite,” I echo, eyes darting around his face. He needs to listen. He needs to know. “If we don't make it, or even if it’s just me who doesn't make it out of this year alone, that’s fine with me, because we’re here right now.” Listen to me, Baz. We’re not in some fantasy world where everything will be all daisies. This will all end one day, and maybe too fast. Listen to me, Baz. Please.

BAZ

He’s acting like I don’t know. That I haven’t woken up every morning since our first morning as “us” thinking about how limited we are. That I don’t trace my fingers around his moles, making constellations on a ticking time-bomb as I stand in the blast-radius.

He’s acting like I might step away later to avoid the radiation.

I don’t want to.

No, it isn't that I don't want to; I can’t.

No matter how much he might want me away then, I’ll be superglued to his side. I’ve got him on a fucking leash (not literally; we’re not really that kinky yet) (and I can’t imagine that Snow would be the one on the leash) (now’s not the time for that). I’m with him until it all goes up in blaze, whether it’s glorious or not.

And I tell him that.

And he stares at me with his big Simon-Snow-Eyes.

And he kisses me with that beautiful Simon-Snow-Mouth.

And he holds me with his strong Simon-Snow-Arms.

And I just hold him, trying to calm myself against him. He’s here, I’m here. We’re here for now, and when he pulls away, I make a quick getaway to his moles, trying to get lost again, trying to get drunk off of him alone, but he holds me back, looking into my eyes. He’s trying to get through, and I’m trying to get out.

But I let him in, because he’s always allowed into me.

“Can we at least act like happy boyfriends right now?” I crack; I shatter.

He’s right there, though, with the glue. “Okay, yes. I’m sorry, yes. We… we... Yeah.” He shifts against me, fingers trailing back to my hair. That’s always where he goes. “We’ll talk about something else. We’ll—“

“We’ll fake it?” That was a tad meaner than I meant, but it’s the truth.

He looks like I’ve stabbed him, his face dropping the slightest. He knows I’m right. “No.” No?

“No?”

“No. I won’t fake what I’m actually happy about.”

I lick my bottom lip. “And what is that, Snow?”

“When you confuse me,” he says softly, “I used to hate when you’d confuse me. I didn’t know what to do, and it just made me angry, but I’m happy that I can figure it out now.”

Merlin, Snow. I bite my lip, stopping a smile. I never wanted to smile this much. I’m going to get back at you for that one day.

One day, I’m going to make you smile so much that it’ll hurt.

“I’m happy that you let me touch your hair.”

My heart strings are pulling, Snow. Please.

“I’m happy that you kiss that spot on my neck. I’ve figured it’s a mole by now, and I quite like it.”

“Snow…”

“I’m so happy, Baz. I’m happier than I could have ever imagined—“

“Simon,” I breathe. He shuts up. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to. I want you to know, Baz. I want you to know every word, because nothing else matters to me anymore. It’s because we’re limited. I don’t care about anything else anymore. I’ll jump off a fucking cliff if you told me to because you’re all that matters anymore in this fucked up world. I know you want us to be optimistic, but I want us to just exist. I’m so much happier just existing, Baz, so please. Just let us exist.”

I’ll give him this. I’ll give him his world. “I…”

He smiles, kissing my sentence short. “Look, I know I’m shit at talking, and you’re shit at listening, but I’m trying.”

My lips turn up against his, keeping there. He’s right. “You’re right, for once. You are shit at talking.” We kiss again. It’s a sweet peck. “I’m happy about that.” Peck. Peck. “I suppose I’m also happy that we’re existing, love.”

He closes his eyes. Peck. Then one sticks, staying as I hold his shoulders.

He falls back for air, eyes meeting mine. “Love?”

I grin. My cheeks ache. “Love,” I breathe, going back to him for more.

#snowbaz #carry on #fanfiction #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #baz #simon #fanfic #mine #fic #playlist #room for the two of us

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carpethefanfics · 7 years

Text

Polaroid.

“Ginny has a surprise for each of her boys, well, maybe two.”

Inspired by @sirussly and @asktheboywholived and @kapitan5o with these two lovely polaroid posts here and here, thank you.

Check them out but, warning, your heart may will absolutely hurt after

Enjoy.

She’d been sitting on their bedroom floor for nearly three hours

A circle of photos around her

An endless pile of boxes

An array of tiny scrapbooks that looked so full they may topple over

And every single photo that decorated her floor was moving

Small polaroids with scribbled handwriting

And dates written in blue ink, black ink, pink ink

She didn’t think she’d stop smiling since she sat down

Or crying

Because her cheeks had definitely not dried

And each time she picked up a new one it was like she was flooded with the memory behind it

Like she was with them in the photo

Instead of the way she desperately wanted to be

Because the box she opened first was from when she was younger

When Fred used to braid her hair and Percy would kiss her bruised knees

When she had woken up one morning covered in black splotches from a prank gone awry

Or when she had painted her entire face red with the muggle lipstick her dad had bought her mum

She ran her fingers over the ones of them all together

Huddled around a table much too small and laughing because she had wished for peace during the war

But she would give anything for the kind of chaos again

The box she opened second came from Luna

A series of photos she had taken throughout their time together

Some from Hogwarts, some from the last few years that had flown by

A series of images she had collected from other people

Ones where Ginny was diving for a snitch

Tumbling through muddy grass

Arising victorious in her first professional game

Ones where Ron was red in the face from arguing with Hermione

Ones where Hermione was surrounded by books in her London flat while no other furniture yet decorated the space

She was rewriting the Werewolf Registry for the third time

And then there was Harry

Down on one knee in the Burrow

His cheeks red and his hair more mussed than usual

Looking up at Ginny with a grin itching to break open at the corner of his mouth

Her mouth full of toast and her eyes round saucers at the sight of him right before she lunged forward

The two of them tumbling to the floor over and over and over again in the photo

The third box, the one she had just opened, came from Andromeda

And Ginny hadn’t been able to get through it just yet

Each photo in her hand was too happy, too light, too much hope in each pair of eyes for a future that had never came

Images of two barely swollen bellies

Bellies much bigger than Ginny’s was now

July can’t come soon enough, February 1980

Images of her uncles, arms wrapped around shoulders

F and G sweaters knit in unfamiliar colours

Christmas Gifts from Molly, 1970

A sight so similar to photos of Fred and George

But much too old to be them together

The air had emptied from her lungs at the thought

Her eyes dry and red from staring so long, too long

And then there were images of Tonks toddling around

Her hair an array of flashing colours

Her front teeth long gone, the freckles on her nose disappearing and reappearing

Dora doesn’t like to be called Dora, 1977

Ginny had held that photo to her heart for a while

Held it close to her barely showing belly

Hoping that Tonks was looking down on her

Wishing that she’d had the chance to meet the ones to come

But the photo she held in her fingers now

The one she had been staring at

The one that had tears dripping down her chin

Was of Peter

The soft sandy blonde hair and blue eyes of a nothing more than a boy

A boy who hadn’t known malice yet

A young man who was smiling at his friends in complete and utter adoration

And there was Remus

His face not nearly as scarred as when Ginny had known him

A cigarette between his lips

A bruise decorating his neck that she was certain not just a bruise

His eyes were on the man next to him, shimmering

And there was Sirius

His hair thick and dark and curled around his face

No tattoos plastering his skin, no hollow cheeks, no sunken eyes

Nothing but a cheeky smile and a glint in his silver eyes as he stared back at Remus

And there was Lily

Her arms wrapped around James’ neck and her thighs around his waist

Her hair a deeper red than Ginny’s own

Her eyes so strikingly similar to the ones Ginny had fallen so madly in love with

And her lips pressed to the neck of the man she had wrapped herself around

James

The same tousled mess of curls

The same soft, dark skin

The same unbearably handsome smile

The same look on his face Harry had when he was ready to topple over into bed but kept refusing sleep, kept refusing to miss this

Never could hold our firewhiskey, 1977

Ginny let her tears hit the photos

Cursing the hormones of her barely there pregnancy already coursing through her

Hoping that the gifts she had compiled would bring her boys the same joy

‘Gin?’

And she heard his voice

Deep and low and warm

And she heard the pitter-patter of familiar feet against hardwood

She waved her wand around the room

The photos finding their place back in their boxes

The boxes piling themselves away

Sliding back into the closet

All but the books she had created left before her as the door swung open

‘Teddy’

His hair flashed a brilliant red as he tumbled over to her

His small arms wrapping around her neck

His face slowly covering in freckles as she laughed

‘You always give me the best hugs’

She squeezed a little tighter as she finished wiping the wetness from her cheeks

Harry’s eyes narrowing, his brows furrowing as he saw her

Worry lines that never left him spreading over his face

She waved her hands at him as Teddy spoke

Stop worrying, I’m okay

Promise

‘Harry said you have presents!’

Ginny laughed

‘I do have presents, would you like to see yours?’

Teddy’s smile grew wide as the freckles on his skin began to fade and his hair faded back to its regular turquoise blue

Ginny patted her lap as Teddy took a seat and slid the book into his lap

It was small and bound in brown leather with a silver moon on the front cover

‘You remember all those questions you asked me last week?’

Ginny was looking at Harry as Teddy’s hand rested on the book

‘Bout mum and dad?’

‘Yeah about mum and dad. I thought you’d like to see some stuff about them?’

Teddy’s head spun back to look at her

‘See?’

Ginny turned down to look at him and then untied the binding of the book

‘Yeah, see.’

As she slipped it open she could feel him go still in her lap

And his hair suddenly turned a shade of pink she hadn’t seen in many years

‘Mum.’

Teddy’s little fingers glided over the photo of Tonks

Graduation Day, 1993

Her Auror robes much larger on her than expected

A smile bright on her face as she looks up to the camera

Obviously laughing from the predicament

‘Yes mum… And dad too.’

Ginny slowly turned the page

Rightful Head Boy, 1977

Teddy’s hair changed to a golden brown, soft curls over his forehead and down his neck

‘Dad.’

He ran his fingers over the photo again

One where Remus was holding a Head Boy badge and smiling up at the camera

Before turning around and being tackled by James

The red and gold badge flying out of frame

‘And Harry!’

Ginny laughed as Harry stood and came to kneel beside them

And she could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watched the photo replay

‘That’s my dad Ted.’

Teddy turned to look up at him and his eyes became as dark and warm as Harry’s before turning back to their usual golden amber

‘More! More!’

Ginny kept flipping the pages

And she could feel the warmth in her cheeks, the welling of her eyes

She could feel Harry tense against her as her wrapped his hand around the back of her neck

Pages upon pages of photos

One of Remus reading, a black hat on his head, a long fresh scar across his nose, a mug of steaming hot tea floating beside him

One of Tonks lying on the floor

Dora, August 1997

Her hair a soft lilac, her nose scrunched up, a brilliant smile on her lips that broke into a laugh

A laugh Ginny wished she could play for Teddy

One of Remus, a wide smile, his eyes glued to the floor, a tie around his neck

The beginning of the scruff that never left this cheeks dotting his jaw

Then one of Tonks in a simple white dress

One neither Harry nor Ginny had seen before today

Her cotton candy hair the only part of her head visible as her face was cradled in Remus’ neck

A haggard pair of dress robes hanging off Remus’ sullen frame

The barely there sway of them two of them pressed together

And a softness on Remus’ face

His hands braced around his new wife

His eyes closed, a look of utter peace there that Harry and Ginny thought they may never see

And when they got to the end of the book Teddy lifted it up

A small polaroid that barely fit them

Edward Remus, April 1998

And there he was

Snug and lying sound asleep on his father’s chest

Remus sprawled out over the couch

And Tonks, curled around him with her face resting against Teddy’s side

All of them fast asleep

‘Me.’

Ginny bit her lip as Teddy spoke

‘Yeah bubba, that’s you and mum and dad.’

Teddy turned to her

‘Again?’

Harry squeezed Ginny’s neck as Teddy crawled off her lap and laid on his stomach

The book in front of his face

His eyes glued to the pages

‘As many times as you’d like Ted.’

She moved her hand back to brace Harry’s

‘I have one for you too you know.’

Harry’s eyes grew wide

‘Do you now?’

The endless shades of green there swirling in intrigue

Completely mesmerizing her

Ginny leaned forward and laid it before them

‘Would you like to sit in my lap too?’

Harry laughed as he moved from his kneeling position to sit next to her

She slipped it a onto his legs

A brown leather bound book just like Teddy’s

She could hear him take a deep breath so she laid her hand on his thigh

I’m here You’re safe Let’s do it together

Her eyes peering up every so often to glance over at Teddy and the ever changing rainbow of his hair

That beautiful lilac and striking cotton candy pink

And the half a dozen shades of golden brown

Then she turned back to Harry

His hand braced on the cover

As he flipped to the first page Ginny watched the subconscious upturn of his lips

Pages upon pages of his family

Of a life before him

Of the people he became

His mother with her arm wrapped around a young blonde

Hysterical laughter written all over their faces

His father with antlers sprouting out of his head

McKinnon and her Ideas, 1976

Then his godfather working on his bike

A dark shed, a few barely lit lamps

The first sprouting of tattoos that would soon cover his arms

The disapproving eyes of Remus

Moony ‘I’m never getting on that blasted thing’ Lupin, 1976

Harry peered up at Ginny

‘Keep going’

Her voice encouraging, her eyes glossy

So Harry did

Flipping through more and more photos of moments he never thought he’d see

Finally Hitched, 1979

His parents wound in a close embrace

A few people gazing at them in the background

But their eyes locked on each other

A photo similar to the one he had taken with Ginny only a few years ago

Harry Meets his Uncles, August 1980

A small bundle of black tufts being handed around

A look of utter horror on both Peter and Remus’ faces

A look of complete joy on Sirius’

And Harry hadn’t realized yet that he was crying

But as he dotted the tears away

The book came to a close

And his heart stopped in his chest

Coming Soon, 2004

There was no photo, just a caption with an empty white space

His eyes found Ginny’s

Wide and shocked

A feeling of utter panic settling in the pit of his stomach before a calming realization settler over him

‘We’re having a baby’

He spoke quietly to himself

Letting unfamiliar words touch his tongue

‘We’re having a baby?’

His mouth broke into a soft smile

Ginny’s hand still gripping his thigh

The tears still trailing down her cheeks

‘Dear Merlin, we’re having a baby!’

And then he was lunging over her

Just like she had the first time she kissed him

Just like she had the day he proposed

And they were tumbling onto the carpet

And Ginny’s laughter was thick in his ears

As he peppered her face with kisses

As he let his hand find its way to rest between them

And then Teddy was standing above them

His hair a soft blue

‘What’s wrong?’

Harry smiled and looked down at his hand

Ginny’s words leaving him breathless

‘We’re going to have a baby Teddy’

‘A baby?’

Harry peered up at him

And this voice caught in his throat as Ginny spoke

‘Would you like another someone to play with Ted?’

And Teddy was smiling

His small chubby hand finding its way to Harry’s

‘Okay’

And now Harry was imagining their scrapbooks

The photos he would take just like his parents and uncles had before him

Of a family to come

Of tiny Holyhead Harpy jerseys and little practice wands

Of a breakfast table bustling and exploding with too many bodies

Of the disaster their house would become

But most importantly

Of a family that was all their own

Of a family that was all his own

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unleashthebeees · 7 years

Text

Let me be your Sunshine

Okay so this is a new fic that is mainly fluff at the moment, I mean if you guys like it I can turn it into a series! I hope you enjoy lovelies :)

Massive thanks to @princess-of-erebor1992 for proof reading even though you don’t like superheroey stuff, but you’re awesome anyway <3

Overview: reader is best friends with a classmate who both live in the same apartment complex together, but will they stay “just friends” forever? Will Peter ever know the real reason behind their crazy, hyperactive lifestyle?

Warnings: a couple of swear words!

Italics recall the past

You were known in the halls of Queens high school as "the colourful one with ADHD", despite constantly being consumed by how dull the corridors were. Your outfit of the day was simply characterised by what kind of weather it was outside: Rainy day? Fluorescent orange and navy spotted umbrella that terribly matched the crimson dress and purple docs. Cloudy day? The infamous rainbow pompom scarf that you had knitted yourself, terribly in fact, according to a YouTube video. You didn't care that it looked shabby, you just enjoyed making people smile knowing there is a rainbow somewhere in the clouds. On a rare sunshiney day in Queens? That would call for the stripey magenta tank top with grey skinny jeans and worn out, paint splattered combat boots completeing the look. You enjoyed having people involuntarily looking your way, not for attention at all, just so that you could see the glimmer of sunshine that appeared in the dark stormclouds shadowing their lives, knowing that you were that sunshine they so desperately longed for. Sometimes you didn't even know the kid, but it didn't matter in the slightest. But the one person you absolutely loved seeing happy was your neighbour, and classmate, Peter Parker. The dorky nerd who lived a couple floors above you in the apartment building you didn't know you shared.

The friendship started accidentally when you had left your apartment a whirl of citrus themed colours sending the guy you didn't know was behind you into a heap of paper and various sized screwdrivers. "I'm so sorry! I'm just too excited to try the new lemon and orange donut from Holey Moely's donut shop that I must've looked like a donut jumping out my front door! Wait that didn't make sense, hi!" You aimed a small goofy grin towards the gorgeous brown eyes behind glasses and realised it was a guy you had recognised from mechanics class at school. He chuckled as you helped him up, gathering the papers together and handing them to him. "Don't worry about it, I was heading there too actually! Wait, don't I know you from school? You're the colourful one with ADHD right?" He asked as he dusted himself down. You did a little happy dance on the spot as you realised you vaguely knew each other from school, but the label he gave you didn't surprise you in the slightest. "I guess I am, although I don't have ADHD, I'm just hyper! I'm Y/N, I recognise you from mechanics class, you built a tiny LED spanner torch." He nodded in agreement. "Yeah I guess I am that guy," he offered his hand out for you, you held out a fist, "Peter Parker. And you're going for a fistbump. That's totally awesome." Once you had exchanged names and engaged in small conversation that ended abruptly, you suddenly remebered why you had left your apartment in a hurry, "DONUTS! Come on Parker let's go before they run out!" You grabbed his hand and raced towards the shabby elevator of your apartment complex.

Peter made his way over to your post-it note covered locker in the corridor, having watched your entire entrance into school turn eyes at the the new addition of crimson red hair to your outfit choice for the day. "Damn Y/N this is a new look! It's a good look though, very, hmm what's the word, 'out there'" You threw your head back and laughed at the compliment. "That's a good one Parker, never heard that one before! Not at all! You're sooooo original with your comebacks" you replied sarcastically, while getting your boooks out for first period. You caught him staring at the curly locks bouncing along as you talked, wondering why he adored them so much. Naturally, you aren't one to shy away from telling the truth; you said you were naturally honest and couldn't hold a lie for more than three seconds; Peter called you blunt with no filter. Shutting your locker, you confronted him. "Whatcha staring at Parker? Is it my awesome ability to be so completely witty that it amazes you?" His cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "Nah, I'm used to that ability, it's your superpower if I'm being 'blunt'," you rolled your eyes with a smile, "I just like what you've done with your hair, it looks nice." You caught a small glimpse of a grin forming on his squishable face. "Well thank you Parker, I thought it's time for a change, in the middle of the semester. Of which we are late for first period! You know you absolutely love Mr Rutherford's retelling of Romeo and Juliet." You nudged his whiny ass along to the English class along the corridor, awaiting imminent death from boredom. ~ It was finally the end of the school day, which meant that it was time for your second favourite part of the day- walking home with Peter after a routine stop off at Willy's cafe just around the corner from home. Your first favourite part of the day was the walk to school where you surprised your best friend with a new combination of colour coordination. A smile, a twirl, and a fistbump was your daily greeting, and since you've been best friends you think some of your fashion sense has inevitably made it's way into Peter's wardrobe, since he seemed to be sporting a bright blue tshirt instead of the regular grey or black printed tee. You both ordered your usual after school snack, yours being a berry smoothie and a rainbow cookie, Peter ordering the blueberry muffin with chocolate chips. After finding out that the elevator in your building had been signposted 'out of use', you reluctantly opted to take the stairs, but by flight 2 you were out of breath. "Wait.. Pete.. 5 minutes.." you huffed out, watching him make fun of your unfit self. "Come on Y/N, that was the second staircase! We have another 3 to go until we ge to your place!" You closed your eyes with a dramtic sigh at the thought of how many flights left to drag yourself up once you had caught your breath. Man, those rainbow cookies weren't one bit good for you but damn they tasted amazing. You flopped onto your stomach after the last flight of stairs that led to your floor and Peter, the cheeky shit, decides to leave you there as he makes his way to your room as though it was his second home, which it had basically become. "Where.. on this earth.. do you get your effort from.. to get up all those stairs.. and not get tired one bit?" You dramatically feigned injury as you crawled your way to the front door of your flat, "WHAT'S YOUR SECRET PARKER??" He rolled his eyes and unlocked the door to your flat, greeting your mom while you followed closely behind, shutting the door. You gently called across the room to your mom, who reclined in an armchair with the curtains drawn, "We're just going to work on a project mom, we won't be too loud." A small nod was sent your way.

Peter jumped on your bright pink double bed, easily taking up all the space while you dropped your bag at the door and made your way to your desk, with the lime green casing illumiating the built-from-scratch desktop computer sitting on it like a million trophies. You were good with electronics, in fact, sometimes better than Peter which he never liked to admit. On stormy days where Aunt May's satelite dish was blown ajar and the cable went out, Peter never seemed to be around. It always seemed to be you lending a helping hand, which you didn't mind. You stayed at his place until he came back late, looking completely windswept and cold. He never told you why he was out so late on days with significantly bad weather, surely he would want to stay inside and watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory, his secret guilty pleasure that you once caught him watching off-guard. You switched your computer on, and waited for it to boot up. You turned to face Peter, who currently had his face buried in your fluffy ragged pompom scarf. "If you want to smell like me I use a mango shower gel that you can get at the dollar store next to Willy's." You stared at the little dork dressed in blue, giggling at his random-ness, knowing that it was completely normal to you. Who were you to say what was random anymore? You were literally the queen of being random and 'out there' as Parker puts it. "If I wanted to smell like you I'd live here constantly, oh wait, I do!" You threw a stray screwdriver in his direction, which he immediately blocked like it was second nature, but you took no notice of it.

This was the kind of friendship you enjoyed having. You had other friends, people who you spoke to on the corridors and in classes where you didn't have a Peter Parker to sit next to and cause trouble with, but the friendship you guys had was more than the odd 'hello' here and there. It might be hard to believe for the people who just took you as "the girl with ADHD" but no one, not even Peter knew why you went out of your way to provide some ray of sunshine to the people who needed it most.

Taglist so far!:

@iwillbeinmynest

#spiderman #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #fic #fluff #iwillbeinmynest #marvel imagines #marvel

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adelearcherwrites · 6 years

Text

I know, I know. I’ve been lying low again. There’s no excuse. Actually, there’s a lot going on and quite a lot to write about, but none of it I actually feel at liberty to write about (I do consider myself a very honest blogger, but at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to play your cards chose to your chest). Anyway, I did write the following piece a week or two back, but it’s in a similar vein to other pieces of mine, so I thought I’d sit on it until you’d forgotten those past pieces (I’m really selling this today, aren’t I?). The trouble is this; my interests that I’m feel free to discuss are simple and few – cats, period drama, and…no, that’s it. So you see with a selectively secretive – yet unvaried – life such as it is, I’ve been all about escapism. As per uzsh. And how does somebody like me find their escapism? Well, I’ll tell you (you already know, but I’ll tell you anyway)…

If you read this blog with any regularity, you’ll be aware I have been reading a lo-ho-ho-ho-ot of historical fiction lately – to the point where it’s a bit embarrassing, really. My husband often catches me with my head in a Kindle whenever there’s a spare moment, and asks (and I wish he wouldn’t), ‘what are you reading?’. And I always wrack my brain to try to invent some very clever reply (or lie). Because some might say that a self-professed writer like me ought to be reading something very avant-garde, something hot off the presses, something of great modern literary interest. But surprise-surprise, I am usually (or always) to be found pouring over something written two hundred years ago, or at a push, in the Victorian in era. Once I’d rinsed and re-rinsed everything of Jane Austen’s and Charlotte Bronte’s – which I did long ago – I moved on to Elizabeth Gaskell and Wilkie Collins (the Victorian forerunner of the detective novel, don’t you know). That seems to be the general direction ‘Austenites’ go (apparently, Google says that’s not a thing; I just made up the term – go me!). And if I’m not doing that, on my days off, I will be re-watching a BBC adaptation (not ITV ones, they’re awful), or failing that, the movie versions of the same old classic costume dramas. Again and again and again and again – because only so many were written and I just can’t get enough. Failing that, I like nothing more than a stroll around some National Trusts houses and grounds, where I can pretend I’m surveying my estate. I know I’m not doing anything particularly unconventional or eccentric or original; many women of my age are a bit obsessed with our historical past (or more correctly, a fictional version of it), but sometimes I wonder why that should be so.

There is something about the fiction written in the Regency or Victorian era. I’m not sure why it has such an appeal; much of the time, nothing really happens as far as plot goes (just read Cranford [that was a bridge too far, literally NOTHING happened at all and had to give up on it]), but they are just periods in history one can strangely lose themselves in. Let’s face it, modern life is extremely stressful; never more than now has so much been expected of a person; hold down a full-time job, be the perfect parent, still manage to have an amazing social life. The pressure to succeed in this is so strong, that some of us crave a simpler time – like in the past. But I don’t know why we romanticise that past to such a ridiculous level.

Let’s get real about this, if I’d be born in the Georgian or Victorian period, and I’d fallen into the same socioeconomic class that I did when I was born in 1971, I would have been born into poverty. Infant mortality was rife, and life expectance was poor. I say this a lot (to myself, at least, possibly to my blog – I can’t remember), if you take into account my own experiences of childbirth, I would have died during labour (on both occasions – not that there would have been a second occasion), because neither of my children were coming out naturally. And lest we forget, there were no antibiotics. I’ve had various infections (one of which was scarlet fever) that I believe would have killed me if these medications were not freely available. Yep, I’d be dead ten times over (if not more), and most likely, so would you. Financially, if I had been lucky enough to even survive into adulthood, my greatest career opportunities would have been as a scullery maid or a seamstress – if I didn’t get sent to the poorhouse first because I was in so much debt. Education would not have been available to me – I’d have been lucky if I could read or write. Some say, modern-times me hasn’t mastered that skill either. Cheeky b*stards.

If it involves period costume or workouts, it’s mine.

No siree bob; a life in the past would not have been suited to one such as me. I have to keep reminding myself that I would have been penniless, and then to cap it all off, I would have been dead. Nothing romantic about that, is there? Yet the literary past of bustles and bonnets; genteel women of means passing their leisurely days by adding to their many accomplishments (music, needlework, languages, painting, reading – that’s all they had to do), balls and plays, it still seems so idyllic – doesn’t it? None of that rat-race crap that the majority of us have to put up with today. And I guess that’s why old books have such an appeal with us, have such a hold over us. Simpler times would wonderful, wouldn’t they?

I know I’ve developed a pattern throughout my life; when I’m hitting the period drama hard, I’m dissatisfied with my current life. And I guess I’ll just have to do something about that. Still, you can’t deny it, there’s a lot to be said for modern times. Yes, a lot of it is absolutely rubbish, but there’s just no knocking what science and technology have done for us. I mean, could you live without your phone or laptop or the internet? I certainly couldn’t. Some would say we are lucky to be alive right now. Perhaps people will write about our era in the distant future with a longing and fanciful air. Of course, we’ll all know about the crappy negatives, but even the 1980s are now being eulogised – even the 90s to a smaller extent (not so much the 70s – I think we’re all in agreement they were horrid – I have photographic evidence of a childhood me in a horrid orange and brown dress to prove it). But I’ve lived through all those decades. And because they all fall into my lifetime, escapism can’t really be found there. For me, at least, only escapism into a past that I actually know nothing about will do. Because then I can pretend it was something that it wasn’t – and I’d have been happier there.

NB: I do have a few other posts in the pipeline that are nothing to do with cats or period drama – honest.

For Old Times’ Sake I know, I know. I’ve been lying low again. There’s no excuse. Actually, there’s a lot going on and quite a lot to write about, but none of it I actually feel at liberty to write about (I do consider myself a very honest blogger, but at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to play your cards chose to your chest).

#adelearcherwrites #charlottebronte #costumedrama #elizabethgaskell #janeausten #pasttimes #perioddrama #regency #victorian #wilkiecollins

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