#my favorite season flips between spring and fall and winter

[church73josefsen]

Reese Getty

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#replica chloe bags #chloe bags replica #chloe replica #chloe marcie replica

[letyukisayfuck]

i see we’re starting off dissociation with a Big Mood ™

#ruby.txt #haruhi liveblog #i'm home and awake and it feels good to read a book. #my favorite season flips between spring and fall and winter #i am decidedly not a summer person

[quillsareswords]

For the Valentine’s Day blurb I could imagine Damian showing you his art book along with the drawings of you he did over time while saying how much he loves you how grateful he is not those words exactly but just Valentine’s Day Damian talk you know

Kick off the the celebration y'all, happy wallowing season ✌️

MASTER LIST in BIO

It's sitting on your bed when you get home from a class. At first glance, you don't realize what it is. Some skinny black square sitting atop a bed that definitely wasn't made when you left.

You set your bag down and step closer. That's when you recognize the elegant golden embossed D.W. on the corner. He's stuck a red bow on the opposite corner, beside a white envelope. You're glad to see he's still putting that calligraphy course to good use, the way your name is scrawled so beautifully that you almost don't recognize it.

You pick up the card first. He didn't stick it shut, so the card slides out easily.

It's rough white parchment. The front boasts a gorgeous top-down bouquet of roses, all different colors, all outlined in black ink that acts as a barrier the watercolor paints don't respect. On the back, a gentle pink camellia.

It's hand painted.

You open it carefully. In true Damian Wayne fashion, he's spared no expense when it comes to paint. There are little vines of flowers crawling around the corners and slithering between the clusters. The words on either page are perfectly spaced and centered.

On the left page, "To my shining moon and glittering star; my only love and favorite muse; let this remind you how beautiful you really are."

On the right page, "You know I'm not a poet as I am an artist, but I'd try anything for you. This isn't all I'd like to give you today, but it is the gift I'm most proud of. I truly hope this will dismiss all those foolish ideas your mind crafts about yourself. I can't always be there to remind you in person, but this should be a decent placeholder. I love you terribly, my dear. [Signed,] Your Mr. Darcy, Damian."

You haven't even opened your gift yet and you're already close to tears. You set the card on your bedside table, propping it open so it stands up beneath your lamp.

And then you settle down against your headboard and pick up the sketchbook. It feels familiar in your hand—as it should. You weigh it passively in one hand, swimming through memories of summer evenings spent in the gardens, rainy spring mornings in front of his open balcony door, fall afternoons spent in the corner of a cafe, winter nights spent fireside. The number of times you've picked it up to hand it to him; the hours spent curled into his side, drifting in and out of sleep to the sound of graphite against paper.

The first page is Batcow's portrait. The second is a quick outline of a scene from the city park. On the adjacent page, a robin in the same style.

You spend the next two hours flipping through it. At first, it's just animals and landscapes, a few harsh scene sprinkled in—because who would Damian be with the shady darks to break up all the beauty. Somewhere after the more troubled images (zombies and battlefields and zombie battlefields and one you think might be the stronghold he was raised in being razed to the ground), his focus seems to shift. There are whole pages dedicated to practicing different human forms at different angles, and the farther you get, the more familiar they start to seem.

And then it really changes. The first one is rough; unerased guide lines, too-sharp angles. There's something about your face that's just off, but it is unmistakably you. The next is of the same stronghold, but this time it's cast in the flow of a messy watercolor sunset.

You watch his skill develop across the pages. And you watch yourself evolve along with it. You see the way you wore your hair in eighth grade, the phase of experimentation with makeup, the earrings you wore for three months solid, that ratty hoodie that's rotting in your closet. You watch your smiles get brighter while his painting improves, your confidence grows with his expertise. The closer you get, the more abstract his work becomes; the more emotion he pours into it.

There's one toward the end that nearly knocks the breath out of you. It's done from the perspective of his reading chair. His room is sketched out carefully, from the paintings on his walls to the clothes scattered lazily around the floor, it's all painstakingly captured in pencil and pen. He's used the colored pencils you'd given him for his birthday the week before to engrave the moment perfectly. The early rays of the morning sun are just spilling into the room, painting everything in gentle light.

You can hardly image yourself as the subject of such a piece, but there you are, settled among the blankets and pillows spread out on his bed like an angle laying in a cloud. You look– gorgeous. If this is how he sees you, it's no wonder you get to pick stars out in his eyes every morning.

You really hate him now. Jesus, he's the absolute worst.

He's surprised you with this– this home-run, heart-wrenching, emotionally-ruining, year-making gift on Valentine's Day. And he's alluded to have more to give you. And what did you get him? A booklet of handmade coupons for hugs and kisses, and a batch of your grandmother's brownies that he would not shut up about after Christmas. That bastard.

Guess you're gonna have to call the other grandma. This seems like a job for Grammy's famous cheesy veggie casserole.

#listen ok im not a poet either dont @ me #but anyway yea I'd ugly cry fs #quillsvalentines #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

[matwith1t]

A/N: Back with some fluff!! Straight fluff. No angst nonsense. Any & all feedback is appreciated! Words of affirmation is my love language so 🔪 please🔪 Also, my requests are open 🥳 I’m working on one now, so if you have any ideas, my inbox is open!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/night!! 🤩

Summary: Mat tries to guess your favorite color, and even though he sounds absolutely positive with his answer, he’s wrong. But you don’t have the heart to tell him, so he spends your relationship knowing your wrong favorite color.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: two swear words, slight drinking // WC: 4K // Fluff

A slight spring breeze whistling through the air caused goosebumps to form on your legs. Everything was always a little better in the springtime; the weather started to warm up, parks began to become full of life again, and you were able to sit outside without freezing off your toes. Although there was still a crispness in the air––the last remnants of winter hanging on by a thread––the sun shined down, and you could peacefully sit outside.

On the balcony of Mat’s apartment, the two of you sat on the cushioned couch together. With your head in his lap, you had a book raised above your head, engrossed with the words on the page. And Mat, he had an arm lazily draped over your collar bones as his other hand scrolled on his phone. You thought he was engrossed with whatever game he played, but with his semi-serious tone of voice behind his question, you could tell he got lost in his head.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You dogeared the page you were on, closed the book softly, and placed it on the ground. You flicked your eyes up to see Mat already staring down at you, “My favorite color?”

Mat nodded his head, “We’ve been going out for a few months, but I was thinking about you and I––I don’t think I know it.”

A smirk slowly grew on your face as you teased him, “You were thinking about me?”

With a smile on his own face, he rolled his eyes at you, and with the arm he had draped across your upper chest, he gave your shoulder a squeeze, “I was,” he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, “So, what is it?”

The feeling of your stomach flipping at his confession made you feel anything but nonchalant. At his words, your stomach swarmed with an amount of tingles that you only felt when you were with him; the air smelled a little sweeter, his touch felt a little warmer, and you felt yourself fall a little more for him. Because even though you were physically with him in this moment, he was also consumed with the thought of you.

“What do you think my favorite color is?” Your tone was light and airy, excited to hear his answer.

Mat’s chest expanded as he took in a deep breath and then let it out through his nose. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as he stared straight ahead. When his eyebrows rose, it was like you could see the light bulb go off in his head.

He looked down at you, the reflection of the sun in his eyes made them shine bright, “Blue.”

A laugh escaped your lips, and his smile grew, “And why do you think that?”

“Because you always steal this sweatshirt,” he tugged on the strings of his blue Islanders sweatshirt that you currently wore, “You always talk about how nice the sky looks, always get excited whenever you see one of those blue butterflies.” His shy smile grew more timid as he listed reasons why he thought blue was your favorite color, “And you always write with a blue pen.”

Blue. He said it so confidently. And he listed so many reasons that you didn’t even notice about yourself as to why he thought blue was your favorite color. The warmth you felt whenever you were around intensified as you sat in silence.

“So?” Mat’s soft voice brought you out of your head.

He was so sure of his answer that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that your favorite color was not blue.

“You guessed it,” you said with a nod of your head. The smug smirk on his face widened as he sunk a bit further down the couch and caused you to chuckle, “What?”

Again, Mat only shrugged his shoulders, “I’m always right.”

A laugh that caused you to screw your eyes tight and clutch a hand to your stomach echoed off the city buildings. When you opened your eyes, you saw Mat adoringly gaze down at you like he thought he was the luckiest person on the planet. You reached an arm down to grab your book, but before you could resume reading, Mat lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute,” he whispered.

With your book long forgotten, you raised your hand up to your shoulder––to where Mat’s hand lazily drew circles––and laced your fingers between his. He gave your hand a squeeze and a smile took over your face as nuzzled against the soft fabric of the sweatshirt he was wearing. And in record time, your eyes shut and you fell asleep.

–––

A week after Mat guessing your favorite color, he showed up at your apartment.

It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and you were up to your elbows in chores you had been putting off. So you decided that today was the day to get them done. A fairly loud knock on the door cut over the music playing through your headphones. While you would have answered it, your hands were a bit soapy from doing the dishes, so you asked your roommate if they could get it.

You were back to listening to music and washing the dishes, but then your roommate walked into the kitchen with a wide smile on their face, “It’s for you.”

With your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you nodded your head. After washing the soap off from your arms, and drying your hands, you scrolled through your phone to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss on plans with a friend. But there was nothing.

When you reached the front door, you smiled when you saw Mat waiting.

Without a greeting, he raised his hand that held a bouquet of blue flowers that made your heart melt. There were blue peonies, blue hydrangeas, blue tulips, and a few other blue flowers that looked like they were just thrown into a bouquet.

He looked shy with his free hand curled in a fist, stiff at his side, as his index finger lightly picked at the skin by his thumb. He looked unsure of himself––which was uncommon for him––but his rosy cheeks and timid smile made you think that he had never shown up at a person’s house with flowers before.

“Mat,” you said his name slowly; the brown paper they were wrapped in crinkled under your hand as you carefully took the flowers from him, “These are…” You glanced up at him and he still looked nervous as ever as you brought the flowers up to smell, “Amazing, thank you.”

While the presentation of the flowers was less than ideal, that didn’t matter in the slightest. Because in a matter of a few weeks, the flowers would be dead. But the memory––the giddiness you felt––of Mat showing up out of the blue with flowers would last for a lifetime.

He let out a shaky breath, “They’re––They’re blue.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you waved him further into your place. “That they are,” you chuckled as you went into your kitchen and opened up a few cabinets for a vase. Once you found one that would fit the flowers, you filled it up with water, “They’re really pretty, Mat.”

It looked like he had just come straight from a workout; athletic shorts, sneakers, and a dry fit t-shirt. And normally after workouts, he was almost as confident in himself after scoring a goal. But he still looked shy.

“I was walking down the street when I saw them,” his voice held a bit more strength to it, “They’re your favorite color.”

You had just finished re-arranging the flowers into the vase to have them all fit when he said his last sentence. They’re your favorite color. For a moment, you forgot that you fabricated the teeny tiny lie about your favorite color. But it made sense as to why he sounded so confident about that sentence than all the other words he spoke.

Because he truly believed that he knew your favorite color.

A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach as you gazed at him with a smile. With the flowers safely in their vase, you walked over to Mat, the smile slowly growing on your face with each step. As if he knew what your next move was, he opened his arms for you, and you wrapped your arms around his waist in an embrace.

While Mat still smelled faintly of sweat, you still took a deep breath of him in, “Yeah,” you mumbled with your face pressed up against his chest. He gently rubbed his palm and fingertips along your back, “My favorite color.”

–––

Summer came along and with Mat not having nearly as many hockey commitments, you were able to soak up time with him like you soaked up the sun.

While the sport wasn’t taking up his time, Mat continued to spend time with his teammates that stayed in New York for the off season. He received a pool party invitation from a teammate and immediately called you up, “It’s an Islanders Island pool party,” he sounded so excited. But you told him it was a terrible play on the name of Gilligan's Island for a pool party.

But you agreed to go with him, and that’s how you found yourself in the backyard of someone’s house with a pool.

And it really was an Islanders Island pool party. The whole house was decked out in traditional Islanders colors, everyone was required to wear an Islanders color, the food and drinks provided could all be found at the arena, there were custom Islanders balloons hung on fences and trees…It seemed as if this was a team bonding experience to get the players excited for the upcoming season.

You were sitting on the ledge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, as you caught up with Tito’s girlfriend. The two of you were laughing until you heard Tito call out “Hey! No cheating!” Both of you paused your conversation to turn your head toward the commotion. And like you guessed, Mat was doing anything in his power to win at a game of chicken.

Mat and Tito were standing in the water, as they both held up two kids on their shoulders, who wrestled each other until the other made a splash in the water. Mat’s infectious laughter––head slightly tilted back, eyes and nose wrinkling, with an open mouth––caused a smile to light up your face.

“You can’t go for my ankles,” Tito sneered at Mat, who again, laughed in his face.

The two teams continued to fight, with Mat trying to hook one of his legs around Tito’s ankles to cause him to fall. The chicken fight was quite captivating, but before you knew it, right as Mat tried to hook his leg around Tito’s ankle again, he kicked Mat’s thigh in retaliation.

“Cheater––”

But a loud splash happened before Mat could finish yelling at his best friend. The kid who was on Mat’s shoulder swam to the surface, and Mat popped up with a gasp. As Tito and the kid who was on his shoulders celebrated with high-fives, Mat splashed them with water. And with a pout on his face, he walked over to the ledge you sat on.

He walked slowly over to you as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. You predicted his movements right, because right as you slightly opened up your legs, Mat came to stand right between them. He rested his elbows on your knees and leaned the side of his face on his arm as he looked up at you.

Knowing how much he hated losing, you smiled sympathetically down at him and ran a hand through his hair, “Cheaters never win.”

Mat’s head popped up just as fast as his jaw dropped, “I didn’t––”

“You went for my ankles,” Tito said from behind as he splashed Mat. You flinched as some of the water sprayed up on you.

“You kicked my thigh!” Mat turned to look at his best friend who pushed himself up from the pool to sit next to his girlfriend. He then turned to look at you with an even bigger pout, “I thought you were on my team.”

A small laugh escaped your lips, “I’m always on your team,” Mat looked like he was going to interject about how that wasn’t the case with your previous comment, but you spoke before him, “When you don’t cheat.”

“Ha,” Tito gloated.

Mat glared at Tito, but as if their mini-rivalry and cheating scandal didn’t happen, Tito asked if Mat wanted to get some food. And with a shrug and a nod of his head, Mat lifted himself from out of the pool. He sat on the ledge next to you for a brief second, “Want anything?”

You thought for a moment, tilting your head back and forth as you kicked your feet around in the water, “A cookie.” You smiled up at Mat.

He reciprocated your smile before leaning in and capturing your lips in a short, chaste kiss, “A cookie it is.”

Mat and Tito walked away, lightly shoving each other’s shoulders, and you picked up conversation with Tito’s girlfriend. Fifteen or so minutes had passed before you saw Mat’s blue swim trunks in your peripheral vision sit next to you. He handed you a small blue paper plate with a blue frosted cookie.

“Thanks,” you smiled in appreciation. You were about to take a bite before Tito scoffed.

“He damn near killed me to get that cookie for you,” Tito’s tone of voice was joking, but your eyes widened as you turned your head to see Mat ducking his chin into his chest, face turning red. “I told him that there were other cookies at the table, but he said he needed to get the blue cookie for you.”

Blue.

Mat avoided eye contact with the group and shrugged his shoulders, “It’s your favorite color,” he softly said only for you to hear, as he kicked up some water with his toes, “It was the last one. I needed to get it.”

Favorite color.

Lightly, you knocked your shoulder against his. With his face still red, Mat looked up at you with a small smile. You pressed a kiss to kiss cheek, “Thank you,” you whispered.

Mat shrugged his shoulders, downplaying his actions as if he didn’t do everything in his power to make sure you got your favorite color. The appreciation you felt for him went beyond anything you could verbalize, so you offered him a bite of your cookie.

Maybe blue could become your favorite color.

–––

Mat had spent the past few December’s in New York, not being able to get as much time as he wanted to spend the holiday season with his family…but this year he had you.

Dressed warmly in scarves and winter coats, you had your mitten clad hands wrapped around Mat’s arm as you walked down the street to Tito’s place in the city. The air was brisk, and the wind felt like icicles hitting your skin, but with your face pressed firmly into Mat’s side, the cold air didn’t feel that bad.

The party was small, a few bottles of wine were opened and shared with one another. The night was full of laughs, Mat whispering softly in your ear, and gentle touches from him that caused an electric jolt in your body whenever he brushed his fingertips on your lower back. You met some new people, caught up with people you already knew, but when the night dwindled down to just you, Mat, Tito, his girlfriend, and another couple…That’s when the fun started.

Tito had taken out board games to play…But added a few drinking rules to them. And by the end of the second game of a non-sober Candy Land, everyone started to feel a slight buzz. And that’s when Tito’s girlfriend had the idea to play a couple’s game…A how well do the couple’s know each other game.

Tito gathered up spare paper and pens from around his place and handed them out to everyone. And his girlfriend tore up paper into rectangles and wrote questions on them to make a deck of cards. The rules of the game: a couple picks up a card from the deck and they have fifteen seconds to write down on their paper––without looking at their significant other’s paper––matching answers.

If you got an answer wrong, you took a drink. If you got the answer right, you kept the card. And whoever ended up with the most cards at the end was deemed the winner.

The questions were easy; Where did you first meet, What is your boyfriend’s favorite dessert, What is your girlfriend’s pet peeve, Where was your first kiss…Very simple. But there were some more challenging questions; What is your girlfriend’s shoe size, What is your boyfriend’s least favorite candy, What was the first picture you took as a couple…

You and Mat were on a roll, only having to take a sip of your drink three times. Tito and his girlfriend were only a few cards behind you. And the other couple tapped out after they had to take a sip of their drink after every other card they pulled.

“Tie game…” Tito deviously smirked across the table at you and Mat, “One card left.”

“So if Mat and I don’t get the question right,” You looked between the feuding best friends, both of them wanting desperately to win, “do you two have a chance to steal?”

“That seems fair,” Tito’s girlfriend nodded at you as she took a sip of her wine.

“They won’t need to steal it,” Mat glared at Tito, the competitiveness coming out of both of them in their glare off, “Because we’re going to win.”

Tito continued to taunt Mat, “Wanna bet?”

“Remember that you two do play on the same hockey team,” you placed a hand on Mat’s shoulder as you raised your eyebrows at Tito.

“That’s irrelevant right now,” Tito narrowed his eyes more on Mat.

Tito’s girlfriend chimed in, “And remember that you two are best friends––”

“Not important,” Mat flared his nostrils.

You and Tito’s girlfriend looked at each other, helpless gazes as you both sat next to your bickering boyfriends. With a shrug of her shoulders, Tito’s girlfriend rolled her eyes at their antics and took a rather large sip of her wine. You followed suit.

With a deep sigh, you had a hand placed on the card ready to flip it over when you were given the go ahead. When the timer was set, and you said ‘ready,’ Tito started the fifteen seconds when you flipped over the card.

What is your girlfriend’s favorite color?

Mat tipped his head back, eyebrows raised high, and let out a loud laugh. Immediately he wrote his answer down with a smug look, “We have this in the bag.”

With a roll of your eyes, you wrote down your favorite color on your piece of paper. And when the timer chimed at the end of fifteen seconds, Mat looked too proud of himself as he drummed his fingers on the back of the notebook where he had his answer written.

“On three, flip your notebooks,” Tito said with a disappointed voice, upset that you and Mat had gotten possibly the easiest question in the whole game.

When the magic number three was said, you and Mat turned your notebooks around. At the answers written on your papers, both Tito and his girlfriend’s jaws dropped wide open. Their faces beamed with smiles as they high-fived each other excitedly.

“We can steal!”

Mat, confused at their celebratory high-fives, scoffed, “What are you––”

“You don’t have the same answers!” Tito looked as if he was about ready to jump up from his seat on the floor as he got ready to write down the answer to his girlfriend’s favorite color.

Mat’s jaw dropped as you heard a silent gasp of shock from him, “That can’t be right––”

“You wrote blue,” Tito smirked victoriously as his eyes shifted to you, “She did not.”

Blue.

Your jaw dropped just as Mat took the notebook from your hands, not believing what his best friend said. You saw his eyes scan repeatedly over the paper that had your handwriting; eyebrows rising high in disbelief as he continued to read a color that was not blue.

Slowly, he lowered the notebook and connected his dismal eyes with your shocked ones that were already locked in on him. With more than enough glasses of wine in your system, you forgot that Mat believed that blue was your favorite because of that one spring afternoon.

Mat’s voice was quiet, low-pitched so only you could hear him, “Your favorite color isn’t blue?”

“I––” Your voice got caught in your throat, knowing that you had to truthfully answer him this time, but with his pitiful eyes gazing into yours, you felt your heart crack because for months he was so sure that your favorite color was blue, “Not really…” your voice trailed off at the end.

Mat let out a small chuckle, a light-hearted smile tugging the corners of his lips upward, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking down into your wine glass, “When you said the reasons why you thought blue was my favorite color,” you looked up at him with a small smile, the fond memory replaying in your mind, “You looked so happy, I didn’t want to say you were wrong.”

Mat snickered as he shook his head at your reasoning. He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you easily fell into his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “So you didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Over a color?”

“I mean––”

“So all this time you thought blue was her favorite color?” Tito laughed as he took a sip of his drink. “Is that why you’ve only worn blue suits before games this season?” Mat’s cheeks turned red as he flipped off his friend. But Tito kept provoking him, “And the pool party over the summer––You pushed me down to the grass to get a blue cookie––”

“Shut up,” Mat playfully glared at Tito.

But like any best friend, Tito continued to poke fun at Mat, “Or, oh––that time we saw a blue––”

And like any best friend on the opposite end of some light hearted heckling, Mat got up from his spot on the floor and tackled Tito before he could finish his sentence. While the two of them wrestled on the ground, Tito’s girlfriend came and sat beside you.

Her eyes were on both of your boyfriend’s as they continued to roll around. She let out a chuckle, “Blue is a pretty nice color.”

And with your eyes trained on Mat, you looked more closely at his outfit for tonight. He wore blue jeans, a navy blue sweater, and thinking back to your walk in the beginning of the night…the jacket he wore was also blue. Although it came a few moments to late, it was the details at which he paid attention––Like how he noticed you always stole his blue sweatshirt, complimented the blue sky, got excited when you saw a blue butterfly, or how you only wrote with a blue pen––that solidified you changing your favorite color.

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh as Mat put Tito in a headlock, and you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your growing smile, “It’s growing on me.”

#Mat Barzal #Mathew Barzal #Mat Barzal fluff #Mat Barzal imagine #Mat Barzal fic #Mar Barzal blurb #Mat Barzal writing #Mat Barzal x reader #Mat Barzal one shot #Mat Barzal oneshot #Mathew Barzal blurb #mat barzal new york islanders #mathew barzal new york islanders #new york islanders #isles #vibe check!!!! not too well bc i hate tags with my whole heart #light a candle!! say a prayer!! send good vibes!!! #tell me the islanders don't have pool parties for team bonding #if i'm not invited to an Islanders Island pool party in my lifetime 🔪

[crispycrimebrulee]

🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 11: Hisoka x Festive🎄

You would think, knowing Hisoka all this time, looking through his closet, inspecting his day-to-day outfit, studying his personality and all its nuances, that you would have figured out what types of things he likes to wear. In his closet was nothing but designer heels and crop tops, mixed in with fancy turtlenecks and couture brands and cuts and patterns, equal to that of a VOGUE Model’s closet. Bright colors, expensive fabric, you’d think the answer would jump out at you, but no. Here you were, sitting around, unsure of what to get him. Hisoka always made sure to look the part of the season too, at least once during all the festivities. Although those outfits were rare, he made sure they had their debut, retiring them for a year before pulling them out again. Winter Wonderland by Eurythmics 

Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow , @lifescreams27, @twistedsmth​, @dukinaxael​, @weeb-chick-181920 @errorpeachy​ @my-child-gaara​ @absolute-flaming-trash​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @demon-hugger​ @whistlingastronaut​​​

Getting up, you walked over to his section in your closet and ran your fingers over his clothes, admiring the expensive fabrics as they passed between your fingertips. You couldn’t get him something overly expensive, seeing as that would make your bank account cry. Besides, picking out an item from a couture brand was never a good idea in terms of Hisoka, his tastes were peculiar but particular, being very picky about the pieces he owns. Moving your hand over to his jester get ups, you could see the small patching and different stitchings in them, suggesting the tears and rips had been sewn up by him or a tailor, but covered up nonetheless. It was almost unnoticeable if you weren’t close enough, but the outfits were somewhat tattered and well worn. Few things he had a love for, but his outfits were clearly one of them. You flipped through them, a sense of confusion slowly crawling into your mind. He had one in black and gold for New Years, one with hearts on it for Valentines Day, and every holiday up until Halloween, but the festive outfits stopped there. He had no Christmas outfit. The gaudiest possible outfit he could probably put together, and he didn’t have one at all. You’d been with him for quite some time, at least two Christmas’ together, but the most he’s ever had in terms of outfit was a Christmas hat, or the star and teardrop he adorned would be red and green.

Pulling one of his outfits from the closet, you set it on the bed before you, taking note of the fraying threads and patterns, thinking of perhaps fixing his outfits for him. Fixing them would be a gesture in itself, but not necessarily a gift. It was more like a thought of courtesy, or a simple act of love you could’ve done any other day of the year. You also knew getting him a gift from his favorite brands would also be a bit of moot point. 

On thoughts of earlier, it’s much easier to get a gift shrouded in a show of money, or shrouded in the capability to spend said money than find an appropriate gift that is an act of heart and thoughtfulness, because you realize the person you’re trying to gift has so many qualities and wonders that you’re trying to convey with the gift, that again, buying something generic, or something they asked for, or even a gift card was easier to produce. On another note, it’s quite difficult to impress Hisoka, furthermore difficult still to catch his attention with something. He’d said so himself in terms of your relationship; he was impressed by everything you are, and he’d admitted to you that you had most of his attention, being absolutely captivated by you. What could you give him that would captivate him, have all of his attention yet be a direct gift of heart, a gift full of meaning, conveying all that he meant to you. 

Running your fingers over the fabric inattentively as you let the gears turn, trying to figure out what would be suitable, you nearly jumped out of your skin to feel Hisoka’s breath tickle your ear. He always did have a knack for sneaking up on you when he wanted to.

“Somebody's brooding, I’d love to know what about~” Hisoka implored, using a lovely manicured nail to turn your face towards his own, his eyes boring into yours.

You pouted, seeing as you almost hurt yourself from being startled. You huffed in response to him, which earned you a giggle from the jester.

“Seems like I scared sweet y/n, eh?” commenting on your pout as he ran his fingers over your lips, his stare passing between them and your eyes.

Rolling your eyes you pulled away from him and picked up his outfit, making your way to put it back to the closet, but not before he pulled you back gently, quietly clicking his tongue.

“I don’t even get a hello, y/n?,” he began, poking your cheek and then poking your nose, “you clearly missed me, seeing as you’re fiddling with my clothes, dear~”

You scrunch your nose, and swat at his hands.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t” choosing to indulge his ego just a bit with your response.

Clearly it had as he pressed you closer to him, allowing his lips to hover over yours, making your chest tingle with anticipation, unable to deny that his kisses always held some sort of power over you. You grew antsy with him being this close to you, getting quickly fed up with his teasing. He took note of this, chuckling and closing the gap, allowing you to taste strawberry chapstick and bubblegum, soft and sweet, contrary to the actual person in question. 

He pulled away, humming at your pleased expression, poking your nose again as he let you go.

“I suppose you’ll tell me what you were brooding about now?” he queried again, cocking his head slightly as he watched you put his outfit away.

“No”, you answered, walking back to him and briefly peeking at banding on the clothing on his waist before passing him, “I won’t. It’s a secret.”

“A secret? Oh dear y/n secrets are hard to keep from me!” gushed Hisoka, clearly excited at the revelation of a secret. 

In truth, it was indeed difficult to keep secrets from him, intentional or not. He always had a way of knowing things and finding out secrets. You knew he was going to do everything in his power to figure out what this secret was, and you knew your plan was now that much harder. 

“Try not to get your nose too deep in my business, Hisoka” you muttered, moving towards him to check him for injuries, something that’d become customary in the relationship. Stopping at some blood on the back of his shirt you looked at him, ready to start patching him up.

“There’s blood on your shirt…” tugging at his shirt as you spoke, worry filling your voice.

“Not mine, dollface~” beaming at you in response.

Of course it wasn’t. 

Later the next day on your way home for work, you stopped at a fabric store and wandered the aisles, looking for the brightest red fabric available. You’d already taken the measurements from Hisoka’s clothes in the morning when you’d left for work, writing them down, careful to keep them hidden just in case he was lurking around. Picking out a red fabric, you moved and picked out a white one, and then white feather strip with bits of sparkly tinsel in them, planning on making a classic outfit. As a last minute decision, you picked up a red and white ribbon, remembering the banding around Hisoka’s waist. You had an only sewing machine at home, and you were prepared to sit down and watch a lot of tutorials so you could make your gift perfect.

Eventually arriving home, you were relieved to find Hisoka out of the house, knowing he wouldn’t be back until late. You got to work, following countless youtube instructions and tutorials, nicking your fingers ever so often with sewing in the minute details of your handiwork. Bits of feathers and tinsel would fall around you, as well as bits of red and white fabric in small strips, leaving the area around you look like an arts and crafts nightmare. You’d spent hours, but you finished, of course with some loose ends to cut and bits of this and that to sew in and overall perfect your work. It was one of Hisoka’s classic outfits but in a much more festive fashion. A red base fabric with white hearts and feather strip hem, tailored pants that tighten at the ankle to match, and a homemade Christmas hat to top it off. For under the shirt, his classic banding was red and white ribbons, adding a gentle sheen to the matte fabrics. Your hands were sore, and your thoughts sluggish. It was well into the night, and you had yet to clean up the mess you’d made. 

Although it took some time, you’d made the living room spotless, you showered, tucked Hisoka’s new outfit away in a box and tucked it under the bed and crawled under the covers and dozed off almost immediately, content with the gift you’d created. 

Rummaging around with the occasional thud was what woke you slightly, not enough to promptly spring into action, but enough for your drowsiness to be mixed with weariness. Propping up on an elbow, you squinted into the dark only to be met by the telltale silhouette of Hisoka approaching you and you let yourself flop back down on the bed as he crawled in next to you, pressing kisses into your shoulders, quietly talking your ear off, seemingly also drowsy.

Once again awoken by slight morning noises you groaned and rolled over, trying to see just what Hisoka was up to this time. Although your vision was clouded by sleep, your heart sank, rose and began beating out of your chest all at once upon realizing what you were looking at. Hisoka had the box you’d hidden, open on the bed staring in pure shock at the gift you’d prepared, an expression you rarely got to see.

“Hisoka...nooooo….” groaning as you sat up and crawled towards him, reaching for the box.

He moved his hands and the box away from your grasp, causing you to whimper.

“Y/n...do tell me, what’s this?” glancing at you as he whispered, clearly in awe.

“It was supposed...to be a surprise,” you started, your heart sinking again, feeling absolutely defeated, “it wasn’t finished yet…”

Hisoka seemed to connect the dots in that moment, remembering you in his clothes and talking of secrets and he gasped as he pulled it completely out of the box. You curled up as he inspected it, quietly giggling as he held the matching hat, trying it on, finding it to be a snug fit. He was clearly in a state of pure genuine joy, a most precious smile on his face as he played with the ball on the end of the hat and squeezing the fuzzy fabric. 

“It wasn’t good yet…” you whimpered, upset that he’d found out early, and he stopped, looking at you as he took note of your voice.

“Oh hush y/n..,” his voice full of veneration, “this is perfect, love..”

You glanced up at him, and you could tell he meant it, that look of astonishment, he was fully impressed, his attention was well caught.

“I still have to fix some of the stitching…”

“When? I’d love to wear this soon!” he exclaimed, turning the shirt this way and that.

“Well-” 

“OH y/n you shouldn’t have” Hisoka gasped, picking up the shiny ribbon bandage you pieced together, running it through his fingers, his eyes ablaze as he inspected it.

“Well I could fix it now, I suppose,” you sighed, getting up and getting the sewing kit you put together. Coming back, you sat down and essentially put the final touches on the outfit, cutting the frays and rough bits of extra fabric, and watched him try on the outfit, seeing Hisoka grinning from ear to ear, looking festive as ever. It was gaudy, in a sense, but perfect for him in his own way. You could only sigh happily, seeing him this way.

Hisoka materialized in front of you, catching you off guard and making you yelp as he planted kisses across your face, taking you out of your disgruntled mood, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’ll have to ask you for clothes more often, y/n,” he said in the middle of pressing kisses into your neck, “this fits wonderfully~”

You nodded as you let Hisoka drown you in early morning affection. In a cheesy sense, you could say Christmas came early for Hisoka, but one should leave cheesy endings for another day. 

#anime #anime fluff #anime headcanons #anime imagines #fluff #Headcanon #headcanons #imagine #Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter headcanon #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter fluff #hunter x hunter imagines #hxh #hxh imagines #hxh headcanons #hxh fluff #Hisoka #hisoka x reader #hisoka headcanons #hisoka fluff #hisoka morow #25 Days of HXH CCB

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

5: Just how old are they?  And how are they heating this place?

AO3 link

@asilcorner

Age is a fickle thing, for toons.  Some toons are created old, with a backstory they never lived.  Some toons are made to be adults in their prime, never aging, never older or younger despite the passage of time.  Some are made to be perpetual children, to never grow up.

They fall into that third category.  They think.

See, they were out for a little over half a year.  They had a contract, they did vaudeville shows with a crew of older comedians, many who liked them and one who hated them, and they never reached what one might call a birthday before they were locked up.

The one who hated them, he taught them what it was like to be hated, for someone to despise them that much.  He was the first they knew personally.  They didn’t know that he was a template for everyone else, eventually.  That the whole world would mirror him soon.

“Do you think we’re gonna get older?” Wakko asks one day, out of the blue, and Dot and Yakko glance over at him.

“Why would we?  We’re toons,” Dot responds.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re made to age,” Yakko agrees, and Wakko shrugs.

“I guess.  I think I just wanted a birthday party.  Cake and ice cream...,” he drools just thinking about it.

“Do we even have a birthday?” Dot asks, and there’s a thought.  They all pause, and Yakko gets a smile on his face that promises something interesting.

“Why not pick one?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The conversation ends there, but it’s brought up again, later, and Yakko pulls out the calendar one day after lunch.

“You guys thought about it?” He asks, and at their questioning looks he continues.  “The birthday thing.”

Dot shrugs.

“I guess.  It seems weird to just pick one.  We were made, not born.”

Yakko rolls his eyes. “That’s semantics,” he shoots back.

“Your main form of comedy is semantics.” She’s quick to reply.

“Touché.” He grins, because it never gets old to have someone you can go verbally back and forth with.

“I’d like a birthday,” Wakko pops in, and Dot sighs.

“Well, I wanna go first.” She clasps her hands and raises them to her cheek.  “I’m a spring girl, a blossoming flower.”

Yakko makes a face. “That saccharine makes me wilt,” he snarks, and she glares at him.  “How about the first day of spring?” he offers, raising his hands in surrender.  “It’s either the 19, 20, or 21st of March.” 

Dot considers this.

“March is such a boring month.  What about May?  It’s more the month of spring than March.  And the 21st, because I only ever shop at Forever 21!” She strikes a pose.

“Pretty sure that company doesn’t exist yet, so you’re not getting a sponsorship anytime soon.”

“I can try anyway!”

“Didn’t they go bankrupt?  Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

“Yakko!”

“May 21st it is!” Yakko marks it on the calendar with a strained grin, and Dot poses victoriously.  “Wakko?” he asks.  

“I don’t know.  I don’t think I have a favorite season,” Wakko taps his hands on his seat to a random beat, tilting his head to the side.  “Maybe Halloween?  I like getting free candy.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, but then you’d have to share the day with all the trick or treaters!  This is your day,” Dot hops up to stand on her seat.

“October 1st?  Same month as one of your favorite holidays, but far enough away that it won’t steal your thunder,” Yakko suggests, and Wakko thinks for a moment, and then nods.

“Okay, sounds good.”

“Good,” Yakko marks it down.

“What about you, Yakko?” Dot asks, leaning her elbows on the table and propping her head up with her hands.

“I was thinking uhh....December 31st,” He has a specific reason for it, one he isn’t going to share, but as is his siblings don’t need one.

“That’s awfully close to Christmas,” Dot frowns.

“And it’s right before New Years,” Wakko adds.

“I know, I know, but—I just like it.  And besides, what better way to ring in the new year than to celebrate me, huh?” He grins, and Dot rolls her eyes.

“Okay, but it’s kind of hypocritical,” she tells him.

“There goes my place on Santa’s nice list, then, huh,” Yakko writes it down.  

According to when he started marking the calendar, they’ve passed Dot’s birthday and Wakko’s.  He frowns.

“Guess I’m the only one getting a party this year,” he mutters, looking down at the count.  He’d based it off of the last date he could remember before being put in the tower, and how long he thinks they’ve been in here.  The thought makes his frown deepen/

“Dangit!” Dot curses, causing Yakko and Wakko to jump.  “I wanted a party,” it’s a whine.

“It’s not like there’s anyone besides us to celebrate it,” Wakko says it a bit bluntly, a bit morose, a bit matter of fact, and Dot flinches like she’s been hit, and starts to cry.

“Wakko!” Yakko scolds, and Wakko just blinks. “What?  It’s the truth.  I try not to think about it but—” he looks away, unexpectedly numb about the whole affair.  “They’re not gonna let us out just cause it’s our birthday.”

“Just shut up!” Dot shouts.  “Maybe I don’t wanna think about it!” She stomps off, and Wakko watches her leave.

“What’d you do that for?” Yakko asks, because Wakko isn’t dumb.  He knows what he’s saying will hurt.

“I don’t know,” Wakko replies.  “I think I’m just tired of pretending.  I don’t think we’re ever gonna leave.”

And Yakko, well, Yakko didn’t know he had it in him to be angrier at the ones who locked them in here, to hate them all even more, but he does, because the expression of defeat on Wakko’s face should never be there.

“Yeah, but who can throw a party better than the three of us?” He tries, and Wakko smiles a little, hopping off of his stool.  He grabs some food out of the fridge and disappears, likely upstairs to eat and maybe set off some bombs.

Yakko hangs up the calendar, flipping it a page and staring at “Yakko’s Birthday!” written in his typical cursive, on December 31st.

The oldest day in a year, on the cusp of the new one.  Kind of like him—old and young at the same time.  14 and 30, a brother and father, and a million things in between that threaten to tear him half, like every day he’s struggling to be the kid he wants to be and the adult he needs to be.

He’s very tired, for not even a year old in existence.

He finds Dot, teary eyed in her bed, and jokes away her sorrow.  Later, Wakko will apologize—he won’t take back what he said, however.  Because nothing he said was a lie.

Whoever said the truth is better than a lie never lived the life the Warners have.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

See, they’ve been using fire for light, for cooking, for practically anything that requires heat or light, because they can’t figure out how to put in electricity.  They can summon the incidental lightbulbs that appear over their head in the presence of a sudden idea, but those flicker out fast.  They can summon things that require electricity, but to actually use them they need power.

They can tell that it’s nearing winter, because the Tower is getting colder.  Metal doesn’t insulate, and they’ve had to start wearing socks to keep their toes from getting frostbite.  And toons who don’t have to wear shoes being forced to wear things on their feet is a serious form of torture.  Rugs could work, but Dot says that they’re tacky, and so they’re only reserved for certain areas.  Even then, the rugs get cold too.

“We can’t summon an outlet,” Yakko paces back and forth in the first floor living room, and Wakko and Dot watch this both for entertainment but also out of concern, because Yakko takes worrying to a professional level.  “We can make batteries, but those don’t last long.  We don’t have enough toon power yet to make our own electricity...”

“Have we tried drawing one?” Wakko asks.  “You have pens on you all the time,” Yakko looks up, blinks, and slams his fist into his palm.

“That’s got to be it,” He pulls out a calligraphy pen, shuffling over to where they planned to place a TV, and he sits on his knees, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“Do you know how to draw an outlet?” Dot pipes up from behind him, and Yakko rolls his eyes.

“Of course I know how to draw an outlet!” He responds, as if he’s offended she would even ask, but then he stares at the wall for about a minute and then slumps over.

“So?” She makes sure to add a bit of smugness to her voice.  

“Do you have a picture of one?” He manages, embarrassment tinging his voice.

“I don’t know.  Wakko?”  Wakko searches through his gag bag, and pulls out a book.

“Right here!” He scampers over to Yakko, opening the book to the right page, and then Yakko finally gets to work.

Once the outlet is rather perfectly drawn—those are Yakko’s words, not theirs, and Dot rolls her eyes when he says it.  All they can do is wait and see if it works.

“If this works, I’m using it to straighten my hair before we use it for anything else,” She grins, and Wakko crosses his arms across his chest.

“Hey, I was the one who thought of drawing it!  I want to make some good food.  We won’t have to use the icebox anymore!”

Yeah, they don’t exactly have a fridge.

“Well, I drew it, and I’m the oldest, so I’ll decide what to do with it,” Yakko interrupts the two of them.  He squints at the drawing, and reaches over to add another bolt.

“I thought you said it was perfectly drawn.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” Yakko rolls his eyes, and Dot grins, but they are interrupted by Wakko’s gasp.

“It worked!” He points, and sure enough, where there was once a wall with a drawing is now an outlet.  Yakko wastes no time in pulling out a heater and setting it up.

“We’ll figure out everything else later,” he says, “But we need heat or we’re gonna become popsicles.”

“I’d like to be that tasty,” Wakko rubs his tummy in thought, licking his lips.

“That’s gross, Wakko,” Dot deadpans.

“Eh.” Wakko shrugs.

Yakko shakes his head at the two of them, but he’s smiling.

Electricity makes the entire tower better.  Wakko is most excited about the TV and fridge, and Dot is just glad that she can actually see without having to light a match every two seconds.

Yakko is happy with the fact that they have heat, and that’s his opinion on the matter.

They burn their socks.  It’s a good day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They’re sturdy, for toons, but they aren’t invincible.  Contrary to popular belief, injuries to toons can occur.  Injury, sickness, etc, it’s all a part of a toon’s life, to a lesser extent, and honestly, Dot is surprised that one of them hasn’t gotten hurt sooner.

The first few months they didn’t do much.  Then they were just getting into the groove, and then they were constantly redecorating, and then there was the talk of birthdays, and then there was the whole electricity debacle.  They haven’t had the time, not yet, to be wild enough to warrant serious injury.  Wakko’s stomach thing doesn’t count, because that wasn’t him being silly so much as it was the dangerous situation.

But, Dot thinks, it was going to happen eventually.  

Wakko goes off on his own more often than they do.  Yakko doesn’t really seem to like alone time, and Dot doesn’t like to be without her siblings for too long.  Even if they’re just background noise, that is more comforting than being alone and knowing they’re on a separate floor.  She does, of course, have days where she needs to be alone, but those are few and far in between.

Wakko likes to be alone.  He has his own adventures, and maybe that’s just in his nature.  The quiet one, to flit in and out of their lives.  She doesn’t like that thought, but it comes unbidden to her some days.  Of course, he hangs out with them more than he spends time alone, but still.  She wonders.

She’s playing with different hairstyles up on the second floor, and Yakko is downstairs,  pouring over the encyclopedia he managed to summon—evidently, he’s a history buff, and it doesn’t not make sense but it doesn’t make sense either—while Wakko messes around on the third floor.

And then, they hear Wakko cry out in pain, and suddenly Yakko is just there.  She doesn’t even think she saw him go up to the second floor before he’s just at the third, because by the time she gets up there he’s already cradling Wakko close.  Wakko keeps trying to reach for his ankle, left leg curled to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I-I tripped when I was running to the canon, and my ankle hurts!” Wakko cries, whimpering, and Yakko shushes him, soft.

“It looks twisted,” she whispers, more to herself than anything else.

Yakko turns his head to her sharply. “What do we do?” he asks, as if she would know.  She shrugs.

“I dunno!  I think—don’t you ice stuff like that?  At the very least he should lay down,” she fumbles for a solution, but Yakko takes it, nodding and picking Wakko up.

“Sound good, buddy?” he asks.  Wakko buries his face in Yakko’s chest in response, and Yakko’s frown deepens.

Dot gets the ice pack while Wakko gets situated, rushing over to wrap it around his ankle.  He hisses at the cold, but relaxes as the numbing feeling takes effect.

“Better?” Yakko asks, and Wakko nods.

“Sorry,” Wakko shrugs, sheepish.

“Be more careful next time!” Dot scolds, but not too harshly.  The last thing they need is Wakko crying because she was rude.  Yakko already looks stressed enough.

They give Wakko dinner in bed, even though technically they’d agreed not to do so since they’re sharing a bed, because this is just an exception. Dot practically bullies Wakko into being careful and clean while he eats.

“If I feel a single crumb on my side of the bed, I’m coming for you,” she pokes him in the chest once, and Wakko chuckles nervously and nods.

Once Wakko and Yakko are asleep, Dot hops out of bed to the dining room table.  She pulls out a book—one on first aid.  The last thing she needs is another situation like this, where one of her brothers is hurt and she doesn’t know the solution.  She opens the tome, and gets to work.

Yakko finds her there hours later, asleep and drooling on the book.  He carefully pulls it out from underneath her, and carries her to bed.  He glances at the cover.  First aid?

Well, isn’t that useful.  He knew his sister was smart.

He dog ears her page and flips back to the beginning, skimming through the page as he gets ready to make breakfast.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Time continues to move onward.

They decorate for Christmas.  They celebrate Yakko’s birthday, and then the New Year, and then every holiday after that.  Yakko discovers Shakespeare and nearly bores his siblings to death with it.  Wakko makes weirder and weirder combinations of food, as well as elaborate machines that serve little purpose.  Dot learns how to use makeup after many, many attempts that leave her brothers in stitches, and styles her hair a million ways.

The world goes on without them, but, well, they move on without the world. Turnabout’s fair play, after all.

#animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #kitkat1003 #tower tales

[robinrunsfiction]

Baby, You’re A Haunted House

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General (TW for blood, mentions of a suicide) Requested By: None Word Count: 6,330 Author’s Note: Here is my first story for spooky season! I had hoped to have it up sooner, but life has been busy. This story has been in my mind since this spring. I intend on writing a little bit about the location it’s set in because it’s real! It really is a seminary that was converted into apartments in my hometown. I’ll link to the post here when it’s written. And yes, that is a picture of it below!  Also!!! There is a reference to another one of my favorite bands and one of their albums, first person who can correctly point it out wins... a prize? My admiration? Not sure yet, but shout it out if you know it!

It all seemed too good to be true.

(YN)’s roommate had let her know that she was going to be moving out of town for a new job and the thought of looking for a new apartment or roommate was overwhelming. She was dreading the process, but the next day while eating her lunch at work, she spotted an ad in the paper for Holy Name Heights. The description stated the apartments were newly renovated and located in a historic building on the edge of town, so she called right away to set up a tour.

Later that week she was touring the building that had previously been a seminary for many years. The diocese had sold the second and third floors of the sprawling building to a developer who converted the rooms into apartments, while leaving the first floor as office spaces for the diocese, a Catholic charity organization, and a small museum about the history of the church’s presence in the area.

“This place is beautiful,” (YN) marveled at the space. While being only one bedroom, it was spacious, had a washer and dryer so she wouldn't need to haul her laundry anywhere, assigned parking, not to mention a beautiful view, but a question nagged at the back of her mind. “How much is it per month?”

“$850 per month including utilities,” the agent replied with a smile.

“Oh! Ok, yes, I’d love to apply!”

A few weeks later as (YN) was moving her things into her brand new third floor apartment, she realized how quiet the building was. She paused briefly at each door as she walked by, straining to hear if anyone else was there. As she arrived at her own door with another armload of boxes, the door next to hers opened and a dark haired man stepped out. She shot him a quick smile as she fumbled for her keys. 

“Do you need some help?” He asked.

“That’d be great,” she laughed and he took the box from her so she could get her keys straightened out. “I’m (YN).”

“Gerard,” he replied as she got the door open and took the box back from him.

“Have you lived here long?”

“Just moved in last weekend. I’m glad I’m not the only one up here anymore.”

“Wait, seriously? None of these other apartments are occupied?”

“I don’t think so, I haven’t seen many people around. I guess an old seminary might be kind of a hard sell.”

“Yea, I’m not sure I would have considered it either if I wasn’t in a bind. Thanks for the help with the box,” (YN) smiled as she shifted it in her arms.

“No problem, I’ll see ya around,” he smiled before continuing down the hall.

“See ya,” she called after him. (YN) closed the door behind her and shook her head. Cool apartment, good price, cute neighbor. It all seemed too good to be true.

~

The next day (YN) got up, made a pot of coffee and set about unloading the box that held her mug collection. The fact that she didn’t have to share cupboards with a roommate delighted her, as she didn’t have to worry about any of her favorites getting damaged. She put on some music and made her way over to the living room window as the smell of brewing coffee filled the room. 

Her view was of the front of the building. Trees with bare branches lined the hillside that the building sat upon and a long driveway led up to the front of the building. She loved knowing that the leaves would soon be filling those branches, and then in the fall they’d turn beautiful shades of gold, red and orange. She also liked the idea of being able to see who was coming and going up the driveway. 

After enjoying her coffee, she got back to work unpacking her apartment. The hours flew by as the pile of broken down cardboard boxes piled up near her door. As she wiped her sweaty brow, she realized she had no idea what to do with the boxes and trash that had accumulated. Had the agent even shown her where the dumpsters were? Then she had an idea. Gerard.

Should she bother him? She didn’t even know for sure if he was in. She took a deep breath as she approached his door and knocked. She wondered how long she should wait if he wasn’t there, or didn’t want to answer. She’d never interacted much with the neighbors at her old apartment building, so maybe she was being totally obnoxious. (YN) was so deep in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice that the door was opening.

“Hey (YN), what’s up?”

“Hi, umm this is probably super dumb, but I don’t know where the recycling bins and dumpsters are. The agent never pointed them out, and I didn’t think to ask until I realized I was knee deep in broken down boxes,” she laughed nervously.

“I can help you carry boxes down,” Gerard offered with a smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” (YN) could feel herself blushing.

“It’s no problem.”

“I mean, if you insist!” (YN) laughed and he followed her back to her door. They each took an armload of boxes and Gerard led the way to the staircase that was at the end of the hallway next to his apartment. (YN) glanced over her shoulder at the dark portion of the staircase that led up to a door, most likely the attic. She quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but continued after Gerard.

“So what do you do?” (YN) asked, breaking the silence that hung between them as they headed down the stairs.

“I’m a comic book writer,” he replied almost sheepishly.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool,” (YN) replied genuinely and Gerard lit up.

“Thanks! A lot of people think it’s kinda lame, but it’s just a different type of writing, ya know?” (YN) nodded in agreement. “What do you do?”

“Boring office work,” she said shaking her head. “I wish I had time to do creative stuff like write or draw.”

“You should try, even if it’s just a little bit at a time,” he said as he opened the door leading out into the bright sunshine. “The dumpsters are back here.”

“Thanks,” (YN) smiled as she dropped her share into the recycling bin. "And maybe I'll try to find some time to write, if inspiration strikes."

"You'd be surprised how ideas can pop up when you least expect them," Gerard replied as they made their way back to their floor.

~

Winter started to melt into spring, and (YN) had settled into the routine of her new apartment life. Or at least she thought she was. 

It quickly became clear that she must have been a lot more absentminded than she realized, and her old roommate must have been picking up her slack. She could have sworn she had more milk left when she put the carton back in the fridge, but when she grabbed it the next morning for her cereal there was almost none left. And then there were all the things that just seemed to disappear for no reason that never reappeared, no matter how hard she looked.

One thing that didn’t seem to disappear was her crush on her neighbor Gerard. Interacting with him also became part of her routine, as it always seemed they were running into each other walking into the building or by the mailboxes.

It just happened that it was one of those lucky days, as (YN) had just walked in with her bags from grocery shopping when Gerard walked by. 

“Hey (YN),” he smiled. 

“Gerard,” (YN) started, trying to stifle a laugh. “ I’m not trying to be mean, but do you know how to cook? I feel like I’ve only ever seen you with take out, but never groceries,” she said nodding to her own bags.

“I know how to cook! I am a functional adult,” he replied with feigned offense.

“If you say so, enjoy your dinner,” (YN) replied as she entered her apartment.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he called just as she was about to shut the door.

She poked her head out the door, eyebrows raised. “Oh really?”

“Tomorrow night? 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” she replied with a smile. When the door was shut behind her, she couldn’t help but let out a squeal of delight.

The next evening (YN) was digging through her drawers looking for the sweater she wanted to wear to dinner with Gerard, but she absolutely could not find it. 

“This is crazy, I know I saw it when I was putting away laundry,” she muttered to herself. She got up and went over to the closet housing the washer and dryer, in hopes it had just fallen between the machines, or maybe was still in the dryer. She looked all around but found nothing, and trudged back to her room.

‘Wait, I didn’t turn the light off,’ she said, flipping the switch back on with a shake of her head. “I need to get more sleep.”

Giving up the search, she threw on a different top and checked the time. It was a few minutes past 7 and she hurried out the door.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Gerard said with a smile as he let (YN) in.

“Hmm, seems familiar,” (YN) giggled. “Oh dinner smells great!”

“Thank you,” Gerard smiled proudly. “We’ll be having spaghetti and meatballs. Umm, I don’t drink, so I have soda or water,” Gerard offered.

“Water is fine,” (YN) replied as she sat down at the table. “How’d you day go?”

“Good, I think I have a new story I wanna work on,” he answered as he placed plates on the table and sat down himself. “How about you.”

“Pretty boring actually. I’ll have to admit, knowing that we’re gonna be having dinner got me through my day.”

Gerard smiled and (YN) could have sworn she saw a blush creeping across his cheeks as he glanced down. "I'm glad I could help."

Conversation lulled as they dug into their meals, and The Smashing Pumpkins played softly in the background.

"Ok, I have to apologize for that dig yesterday about you not cooking, this is very good,” (YN) smiled.

"I have to admit, I bought the sauce, and the meatballs were frozen," Gerard winced.

“That’s fine! I do the same,” she laughed and Gerard looked relieved.

(YN) was having a wonderful time hanging out with Gerard and she felt like she could listen to him talk forever. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm, it drew her in and she hung on his words. They laughed and joked and the time flew by until (YN) found herself stifling a yawn and she glanced down at her watch.

"Oh, it's late! I should get outta your hair."

“Well m’lady,” he said, affecting the same posh accent they had been joking around in earlier and bowing before her, “I do hope this evening has lived up to all your expectations.”

“It most certainly has,” she said with a laugh as she curtseyed holding out an imaginary skirt. 

Gerard reached out and took her hand in his and placed a kiss to the back of it, catching her off guard as he looked up at her from behind his lashes. "I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

(YN) nodded. "Yea," she said almost breathlessly. "I'd love that."

Gerard walked her to the door and when she glanced back at him when she reached her own door, he was leaning against his door frame.

"Night," she waved before walking into her apartment and he smiled and waved back.

(YN) could hardly sleep that night, as she was absolutely buzzing.

~

Weekly dinners soon became a tradition between (YN) and Gerard, with both of them taking turns hosting the other. (YN) knew she was terrible at both flirting and picking up when others were flirting with her, but she couldn't help but feel like Gerard might just like her too.There was something about the way his friendly hugs and touches started to linger longer and longer.

One night when they had been hanging out Gerard had casually mentioned going to hang out with his brother on his birthday, so (YN) took it upon herself to bring him his present before he left that day. As she stood at his door, she felt just as nervous as the first time she was at his door asking for help with her boxes. Once again she was totally lost in thought when Gerard opened the door.

"Hey (YN)!" He greeted her.

"Hi! Happy birthday!" She smiled, holding out the plate of chocolate chip cookies and the card she picked out just for him. 

"You remembered my birthday?" He asked, his eyes going wide and pink dusting his cheeks.

"Of course I did!" She laughed. “How could I forget?” She added a little more softly.

The smile grew on Gerard’s face and (YN)’s heart fluttered. “Thanks,” he finally replied, shaking his head. “Hey (YN), I was wondering, if umm, you’d like to maybe like go out on a date, like a real date some time? Don’t feel like you have to say yes just because it’s my birthday.”

(YN) laughed again, and she could feel herself blushing. “Yea, that would be really nice,” she nodded. “And I definitely would have said yes, even if it wasn’t your birthday.”

“Great!” Gerard grinned, but the buzzing of his phone grabbed his attention. "Oh, Mikey's here."

"Have fun with him," (YN) smiled and waved as she turned to go while Gerard grabbed his jacket and keys.

"Wait," Gerard said as he locked the door and jogged over to her, just as she was reaching her door. She looked up at him expectantly and he seemed nervous again before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thanks again for the card."

"No problem," (YN) smiled before ducking into her own apartment to swoon.

~

A few days later, it was finally the day of their first date. Gerard suggested they go to the art museum and grab coffee. Even though they hung out all the time, the fact that this was actually a date made things ever so slightly awkward. As they walked into the museum, their hands brushed a few times before Gerard took her hand in his. She glanced over and smiled up at him and he seemed relieved. They chatted and joked happily as they walked through the exhibits before they went down the street to the cafe.

Finding a table tucked away from the others, they settled in with their coffees. The sun that had been shining when they walked in was soon covered in dark heavy clouds, and big heavy raindrops began to beat at the windows. Something about it made a shiver run down (YN)'s spine, a feeling she’d almost grown accustomed to.

"Gerard, can I ask you something kinda weird?" She asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Sure," he nodded.

(YN) sighed and looked down. "This is gonna sound crazy, and maybe I'm going crazy, but sometimes things get moved in my apartment, or I feel like someone or something is watching me. I've checked every inch of it and there's nothing there, but I dunno. Have you ever felt that in your apartment?" She finally looked up and was startled by Gerard's expression.

"Yea," he said softly, a look of unease on his face. "I totally know what you mean. I notice it when I’m at your place mostly, but sometimes when you come around," he trailed off.

"But, I mean, ghosts and stuff aren’t real though, right? Like It’s probably just the vibe of it being an old building.”

“Yea,” Gerard nodded with a tight smile. “Ghosts aren’t real, vampires aren’t gonna hurt you, zombies aren’t gonna eat your brain while you’re at the mall.”

“Right! You are right. I’m sure it will pass.”

After the rain stopped, they headed back to their building and headed up to the third floor, stopping in front of her door.

“I had a lot of fun today,” (YN) smiled.

“Me too,” Gerard nodded. “I, I really like you (YN). I hope we can do this again.”

(YN) grinned and nodded. “I really like you too Gee, and yes I’d really love to go out again as well.”

Gerard’s face lit up, any nervousness alleviated. He reached up, cupping her cheek gently, as her eyelids fluttered closed. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly, before pulling back just as quick.

“I can’t wait to do that again,” Gerard whispered.

“Then do it again,” she replied.

Gerard didn’t hesitate for a second longer, leaning back in and kissing her deeply as she kissed back. His hand found her waist as she clutched his jacket. When they finally pulled back, they were both breathless and smiling.

(YN) knew that it was the start of something special.

~

Summer arrived with warm weather and abundant sunshine, but that didn’t stop the cold drafts that would breeze through (YN)’s apartment, even when the air conditioning was off. But then the noises started. Thumps and knocks in the middle of the night, jolting her awake. Once she was convinced someone was hammering frantically on her door. In the middle of the night. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, checking through the peephole to see who was there. But there was no one. 

The solution that seemed to be working best was spending as much time away from the apartment, specifically out with Gerard. From picnics in the park, to going to movies, cafes, wandering around book stores or comic book shops for hours, (YN) loved every moment of it.

One evening they were watching a movie in her apartment, happily curled up on the couch together when the thumps in the wall began behind them.

“What was that?” Gerard asked, startled.

(YN) sighed. “No idea. It’s been like this for a while now. I called the maintenance guy, but he doesn't think anything is in the walls. It’s why I’ve been so tired lately, I haven’t been sleeping, like at all.”

“Do you wanna come stay over at my place tonight? Maybe you’ll sleep better,” he offered.

(YN) smiled back at him. “Ok sure,” she nodded. When the movie was over, she changed into pajamas and they made their way back over to his apartment for the night. The next morning when she woke up, she stretched and sighed happily as Gerard held her close.

“Sleep well?” Gerard asked sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, looking up at him. She reached up and brushed away the hair that was falling across his face. “Best I have in a long time.”

“You’re welcome here anytime you want, sugar,” he said leaning in and kissing her sweetly.

"I worry that I'll overstay my welcome if I’m over here that often," (YN) laughed.

"Not possible, sugar," he said with a smile. "I love getting to spend my nights with you. Days too. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you, (YN)."

“I love you too Gerard,” she replied before leaning in and kissing him deeply.

~

September arrived and Gerard was going to be gone for the weekend with a few of his friends on a guy’s trip for his brother Mikey’s birthday. (YN) was a little nervous at first about being alone at night, to the point where she was considering going to visit her parents for the weekend. Surprisingly, she was able to sleep through the night without any noises or strange occurrences waking her up.

The next morning she got up and went to retrieve a mug from the cupboard for her morning coffee. Without warning, a glass flew down from the top shelf, smashing into her forehead. (YN) yelped in surprise and stumbled back, glass shards littering the floor. Tentatively she reached up and touched just above her brow and when she pulled back, her fingers were covered in blood.

"Shiiiiit," she groaned as she carefully stepped over the broken glass on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she felt nauseous at the sight. Blood dripping from the gash landed and streaked down her cheek like tears, accenting the dark circles under her eyes that she just couldn't shake after so many nights of interrupted sleep. She looked like death.

"Gee must really love me if this is what he's looking at every day," she muttered as she dabbed away at the blood with a washcloth.

A few hours later while walking out the emergency department with a fresh set of stitches, she decided she may as well fill in Gerard.

Happy friday! guess where i just left!

From Gerard 💖: Work let you take a half day?

Hospital 😬 

She dropped her phone back into her purse as she made her way across the parking lot, but by the time she got the door unlocked, Gerard was calling her.

"What happened?!" He asked frantically as soon as she picked up.

(YN) sighed. "A glass fell out of my cupboard and I got a cut above my eyebrow. Just a couple stitches and I wanted to make sure they got all the glass out," she replied, downplaying the accident. She knew he'd be back in a few days and he'd know she wasn't telling the whole truth about the cut, but she didn't want him to worry or end his trip early.

"But you're ok? Do you want me to come back?"

"Yes, I'm ok. But no, don't cut your trip short, I'm gonna go straight over to my parents for the rest of the weekendI think. It's one thing when we're losing sleep with weird noises, it's another to be attacked like this."

"You… you think," he sighed, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "That a ghost did it?" Gerard asked in a hushed tone.

"If the glass was off balance and simply fell out of the cupboard it would have gone straight down. This was thrown at me, Gee. There was force behind it."

"Fuck," Gerard muttered. "I'm sorry sugar."

"Don't worry, I'm ok, I promise."

~

(YN) was grateful that Gerard believed what she told him about the haunting of her apartment. He could have easily dismissed her or her fears as crazy and ghost her, but he didn't. He was just as concerned about the situation and her wellbeing. After that weekend they began talking about moving out as soon as their leases were up. 

It had been a couple weeks when Gerard had a meeting in the city that was going to run late into the evening, so (YN) was stuck spending the night alone in her own apartment for the first time since the attack.

As she got in bed, she wondered how long it would be before she would be woken up at night. The noises always managed to cut right through her slumber to wake her, no matter how exhausted she was when she fell asleep. And exhausted she was as her eyelids were heavy as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She wasn't sure what time it was when the noise woke her up, but she sat up in bed and looked at the ceiling. It sounded like skittering, and she wondered if it might be something as innocent as an animal stuck in the attic. 'Wouldn't it be something if it was some animal all along,' she thought as she laid back down and closed her eyes again.

What felt like only moments later she opened them again, but she was not in her room. She wasn’t even in her apartment.

“Gerard?”

He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor in front of his couch with a look of concern and fear on his face unlike any she had seen before. “(YN), are you ok?”

“No, I’m- why am I in your apartment?”

“I was asleep and some noise up in the attic woke me up, but before I could fall back asleep there was this loud bang and I went up to check what was going on because it sounded different from anything before, and you were up there on the floor like you fainted. You didn't even stir until just now when you woke up.”

(YN) shook her head. “I heard the noise too, but I went back to sleep, I didn’t even get out of bed, I went right back to sleep until I just woke up here. What could have made me faint if I wasn't even awake and can’t remember what I saw?”

Gerard ran his hand through his hair, considering her question and when he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I… I dunno (YN). After I brought you down from the attic, I went back to your apartment so I could put you in your own bed and your door was locked.”

“But that’s not possible unless I took my keys and locked it behind me. Should we go up and look for them upstairs?”

“No!” Gerard said quickly. “I mean, I don’t want to make you stay here if you don’t want, we can call the maintenance line to let you in, but I don’t wanna go up there again. Tonight, I mean.”

(YN) climbed off the couch and sat next to him on the floor. “I’ll stay here, you know that's fine but,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “What did you see up there Gee?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “We can talk about it in the morning? It’s late.”

(YN) swallowed hard and nodded. "Yea, that's a good idea."

Gerard got up, offered her a hand, helping her up. He placed a kiss to the back of her hand before leading the way to his room.

(YN) always felt safe with Gerard's arms wrapped around her holding her tight, but it was still a very poor night of sleep for both of them. The next morning (YN) and Gerard were sitting in his living room, sipping coffee in silence before (YN)'s curiosity got the best of her.

"Can you tell me what you saw up there now?" (YN) asked suddenly. 

Gerard looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes matching hers. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Do you really wanna know?"

(YN) nodded. "I wanna understand what happened last night. Well as much of it as I can."

Gerard drew a deep breath. "Ok. I went up there when I heard the second bang. I was kinda surprised the door was open. And then I was shining my flashlight around and," he drew in a breath and shook his head. "I thought I saw someone at the far end of the attic, but my flashlight went through him. I started to panic and that's when I realized you were on the floor. I grabbed you and carried you back down here and, well you know the rest."

"You saw the ghost?" (YN) asked, her voice cracking with fear.

Gerard nodded solemnly. "I think so."

~

Gerard's words kept ringing through (YN)'s mind. There was no denying it now, she was being haunted by a ghost. She was, generally speaking, freaked out about the whole situation, but also a little curious. That's when she remembered the museum on the first floor.

The space was small, no larger than an office. Shelves were filled with books and bibles, and old black and white photos lined the walls, but one picture stood out as different from the rest. An elderly woman stood before it, gazing up at the portrait of the young man.

"Excuse me, do you know any of the history of this building?"

The elderly woman tore her eyes off the photo and looked back at (YN). "Well, I should say I do. What can I help you with?"

"I don't know how to ask this delicately, but, umm, is there any reason to believe that it might be haunted?"

The elderly woman nodded slowly. "Well, yes, I suppose there would be," she replied before glancing back at the portrait. "This was my brother, Joshua. He was in the seminary and was going to become a priest when he met her."

"Her?"

"Elenora. She was beautiful," she paused, studying (YN) for a moment, "actually you remind me of her. But he was so conflicted, he wanted to be a priest, but he was so enchanted by her. He convinced himself, and her, that the only way they could be together was in death."

"Oh no," (YN) gasped.

She nodded. "They were to jump together from the roof. He went first, she never went."

"I'm so sorry," she replied softly.

"It was 60 years ago. I had known Elenora my whole life, so I blamed myself for introducing her into his life, but I didn't blame her! I still don't. I don't admit this to many people, but we're still friends."

"You have a very forgiving heart," (YN) smiled. "Thank you for telling me all that."

She nodded. "That is what I am here for," she replied as she walked around to a small desk and picked up a dust rag before turning back to one of the shelves.

(YN) made her way back to her apartment and shut the door. "Joshua, if that's you, please leave me alone," she said. 

Nothing happened and (YN) shrugged.

~

The cool fall weather settled in and October was filled with the warm glow of red, yellow, and orange leaves on the trees outside, but by Halloween, the branches were blown bare, leaving dark, imposing branches reaching toward the sky.

Gerard's friend Frank invited them to his house for a Halloween party, and to celebrate his birthday.

A night out, dressed as Bonnie and Clyde, was exactly what they both needed after all the time they spent living in a real life haunted house for almost a year now. (YN) also loved spending time with Gerard's friends. They quickly made her feel welcome and made her future with Gerard seem even better.

It wasn't too terribly late when they decided to call it a night and headed home. "I'm gonna go change and I'll be over," (YN) said before heading into her apartment. Gerard nodded and headed to his own door.

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket over the back of the chair when she felt a cold rush of air blow past her. She closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her whole body. When she opened them, again the cold air was surrounding her, wind blowing her skirt around as a freezing rain started to pelt her arms and face. Frantically she looked around, realizing she was on a rooftop. Before she could get her bearings, phantom hands were on her, pushing and pulling her toward the edge.

"No! No! Get off of me! Let go!" She screamed, flailing her arms, trying to shake off the attack. She seemed to break free and started to run toward the hatch to the attic.

The hands grabbed her ankle and sent her tumbling to the rough surface of the roof. When she looked over her shoulder, a figure made of a shadowy mist was pulling her by the leg toward the edge.

"No! Stop it! No!" She screamed again, her hands scratching at the roof, trying to make purchase.

From behind her she heard a bang. She looked up and saw Gerard at the opening to the attic. "(YN)!"

"Gee! Help!"

"Let her go!" Gerard commanded as he ran to (YN), pulling her off the ground and wrapping her in his arms protectively. She buried her face against his shoulder as she clutched his shirt. "Are you ok? I got you sugar, you’re safe now."

"No, no I'm not ok," she sobbed.

"Come on, let's get inside."

Gerard helped her down the ladder and carried her down the stairs to his apartment. He set her down in the bathroom and set to work cleaning the cuts across her hands, legs, and feet.

"Gee, I don't wanna stay here tonight, I can’t stay here anymore, I have to move or I’m gonna end up dead!" (YN) cried as Gerard wiped the blood away from her palm.

"I know sugar, I'll get you cleaned up and we'll go find a hotel room tonight, ok?" (YN) sniffled and nodded in agreement. “And then in the morning we’re gonna find a new place to live, you and me.”

(YN) had been watching as he worked, but hearing him say that she looked up at him. “Together? Even after all this? What if it follows me?!"

He reached up and wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheek. “Together. Nothing's gonna come between us, not even a ghost."

A smile finally broke across her face as he placed bandages on the worst cuts. Then she finally changed out of her soaked and bloodied Halloween costume and into a pair of Gerard's sweatpants and an old hoodie. She didn't have shoes, but she didn't care. She wasn't going back into her apartment until the day she was going back to pack it up and move out. And even then, she was considering hiring someone to do it for her.

"Ready to go?" He asked when she walked out of his room.

"Let’s get away from here," she nodded and he took her hand. They hurried through the cold rain to his car and she sighed as she sunk into the passenger seat. She finally felt free.

Gerard started down the long tree-lined drive when suddenly a large tree limb came crashing down in front of them. (YN) screamed as Gerard slammed on the breaks.

"Shit! Are you ok?" He asked breathlessly.

"Look!" She whimpered, pointing a shaking finger out the window. Gerard looked as well at the ghastly figure on the other side of the branch. Gerard put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Gee, what are you doing? Gee? Gerard! Stop it, get back in here!" She cried frantically as he got out of the car. Not knowing what else to do, she scrambled out as well.

"Give her to me!" The phantom wailed, striking cold terror through her. "I gave my life for my love, she belongs to me!"

"This is not your love!" Gerard shouted back.

She moved to stand next to Gerard, interlacing her fingers with his. "I'm not Elenora! I've never done you wrong!" She pleaded. "Gerard is my true love! Let us pass!"

The phantom's face contorted, snarling, teeth growing long, fingers becoming claw-like. (YN) screamed in fright as Gerard stepped in front of her. As the ghost launched at them, headlights came up the drive, shining bright in their eyes, and the phantom faded into nothing.

The other car stopped and the driver got out. "Need help moving that branch outta the way? Woah, you two look like you've seen a ghost," the man laughed.

Gerard shook his head and looked back at (YN) sympathetically. "Well, it is Halloween."

~

A few months later (YN) and Gerard had settled into their new place. There was nothing in the new place that (YN) would describe as too good to be true. Their commutes were longer, they had to go to the laundromat to do laundry, and they were paying more in rent, but they were together and they finally had peace. And that was worth every penny.

“Hey Gee,” (YN) said as she padded into the living room one Saturday afternoon, holding something behind her back.

“Yea sugar?”

“So I’ve been working on something. I’m not sure it’s any good, but I think it’s finally ready for you to look at.”

Gerard sat up and looked up at her curiously. “What is it?” (YN) handed him a binder. “The Haunting on Holy Name Hill."

“A long time ago, back when we first met, you said I should try writing or drawing if I’m interested in it because you never know when inspiration will strike, and since moving out of that awful place I’ve been trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. So I started writing about it," she shrugged. "I fictionalized some of the events and changed our names, but can you read it and tell me if it’s any good?”

“(YN) I’m so proud of you,” he said with a smile as he got up and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna read it right now.”

“If you insist. I’m gonna go to the laundromat.”

A while later when (YN) came back, Gerard wasn’t on the couch where she’d left him. “Hey Gee, did you finish reading it yet?”

“Yep,” she heard him reply as he came back from the second bedroom they’d set up as his office. “And I have something to show you too.”

“What’s that?”

“First of all, wow, the story is so well written!” he grinned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, you’re a natural! And second, look,” he said handing her a stack of drawings.

“What are these?”

“I was thinking, if you want, we could pitch your story as a graphic novel and these are some drawings I did when I was reading it. This is your character, this one is me.”

“Gee, these are amazing! And you really think that it’s publishable?”

“I really do,” he nodded.

“Ok yea, let’s do it. Other than being the place where we met, there should be some kind of good that comes from that awful place. And maybe serve as a warning to everyone else about things that seem too good to be true."

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

[vinatintasupernovita]

“You’ve got everything, dear?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Your jackets? Your good chitons?”

“Mom, you know they don’t wear things like that on the isle. Or anywhere else anymore.”

“They could wear party hats and capes for all I care, you’re a respectable god. And as such, you’ll dress like one, hear me?”

Persephone sighed as her mother Demeter started another lecture. Every fall it was the same. She wouldn’t even see her for the next six months, why did it matter to her how ‘respectable’ Persephone acted, especially on a place like the isle?

“And another thing, don’t bring home anymore knives or other sharp objects. I’m tired of having to throw those out.” Demeter said as she straightened out her own outfit in the mirror, wiping a stray bit of lipstick from her mouth before deciding everything looked just fine.

“Well I can’t leave them at dad’s.” Persephone said, leaning on the tall handle of her suitcase. “Hadie will mix it up with his and by the time I’m back I’ll need a new one anyway.”

“Here’s an idea- don’t get one to begin with.” She said. “You shouldn’t need one in the first place.”

“Not a good idea.” Persephone swayed back and forth on her heels. She hated how long her mom always took. She knew it was just stalling to keep her home for even an hour longer. “You could just let me-“

“Absolutely not.” Demeter cut her off quickly. “I will not have that type of thing in my house. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes..” Persephone groaned, only to brighten up as Demeter opened the front door.

She all but raced out the door to the royal limo that was waiting outside to pick them up. One quick stop at the castle and Persephone was off. Back to her father and her brother and her- well, she didn’t have a word for what Pain and Panic were to her, but they were family nonetheless. Demeter followed behind, slowly locking up their house and flipping the sign to the flower shop that occupied their bottom floor to ‘away’, taking forever to get in the limo. Persephone had already shoved her bag into the back of the limo and gotten comfortable before her mom could even open the door to sit.

The limo drove across the city to the palace, where King Adam and Queen Belle awaited them. Beside them was their only son, Prince Ben, waiting to say goodbye to his best friend for the winter months. They hadn’t much time to say their goodbyes everytime- fall had to come sooner rather than later- but they had been doing it for as long as they had known each other.

Ben watched out the window for any signs of the limo, tapping his fingers against the window sill as he waited. Belle and Adam looked between each other, and smiled. He was always like this when Persephone was leaving or coming- and though they had always been wary of the gods and everything that came with working with them- they were at least glad Ben had a friend as close to him as Persephone. Maybe once he was king and she took her spot as Goddess of Spring, there’d be less complicated custody requirements to go through before a new season could be rung in.

“They’re here!” He said as the limo pulled in, smiling brightly.

The three of them went down to the front together to greet them- Adam and Belle had learned the hard way that gods preferred the royal treatment even in the presence of actual royals.

Persephone got out of the limo first, running to hug Ben. She towered over him, but it didn’t matter much as they embraced.

“Hi Benny boy.” Persephone smiled as they pulled apart.

“Hi Seph.” Ben smiled back at her. “You’re ready to go?”

“The seasons don’t wait for anyone.” Persephone shrugged, but nodded all the same. That’s when she noticed his parents, and waved. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Florian, your highnesses.”

“Hello, Persephone. Lady Demeter, always a pleasure.” Belle said as she and her husband nodded graciously to the older goddess who walked up behind Persephone. Demeter nodded back to them.

“Your graces.” Demeter greeted. “Good to see you again.”

“Mother, Father, Lady Demeter, do you mind if Persephone and I step away for a moment?” Ben asked. “I just- have something to talk to her about before she goes.”

“Yes, Ben, you can go.” His parents said.

“Of course, young man.” Demeter said. “Behave, Persephone.”

“Yes, Mom.” Persephone said, but didn’t really listen to her as Ben led her off.

“Ok, Ok,” Persephone said. “What is it you’ve got to show me?”

“I’ve finally got it, Seph.” He said with a huge smile. “The perfect first decree.”

The two of them went quickly to Ben’s private study. He had been hauled up in there for forever- which, was Persephone’s way of saying more than three days- drafting plans for his first official decree as king. He had a little over half a year until the day came, but he wanted to make sure it was perfect. Classic Ben.

He held up a paper draft that had been scribbled down as fast as Ben could write. He handed it to Persephone and she read through it.

“I, King Ben, decree that we enac-“ Persephone stopped as she saw the next lines. “enact a system to bring children from the isle over to Auradon.. as a second chance for them..” Her voice broke as she looked up at him. “Ben.”

“Surprise.” He said. “What do you think?”

“What do I- Ben!” Persephone smiled brightly as she hugged him. “That’s amazing! You have no idea the amount of good that’ll do- there’s so many kids on that isle that need this.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted you to be the first to hear it.” Ben said. Persephone blinked.

“Wait,” She said as she pulled away. “Your parents don’t know yet?”

“Im waiting for the right time to tell them.”

“Wow, Benny boy’s acting all rebellious and secretive.” She chuckled. “Im proud of you. This is really good, Ben.”

“I’ve still got a few kinks to work out of it, but, it’ll be ready by coronation day.” He said. “You’ll be here for coronation day, right?”

“Unless you want a jump from winter to summer, ‘course I will be.” She said. “Any ideas on who you’ll bring first?”

“Not yet.” He said. “I wanna make sure I can pick kids who will have an impact.”

“Well, if you want my advice, which, eh.” She wiggled her hand back and forth. “You’re gonna need big name villains’ kids. I can give you some names if you want.”

“That’d be great! Any off the top of your head?” He said as he went for a pen and paper. Persephone sat on his desk and tapped her finger against her chin in thought.

“Let’s see..” She said. “First off, Hadie. Second, Hadie.”

“Seph-“

“Ooh! Third! Hadie.”

“‘Sephone.”

“Fourth.. no, probably Hadie.”

“Seph!”

Persephone huffed as she looked at Ben, who gave her that tired smile that everyone gave their best friend when they were trying to be clever and failing.

“Sorry, Ben, but my brother’s the most important person to me- besides you, ‘course.” She said. “Hell, he’s just a kid. He deserves to grow up somewhere safe.” In reality, Hadie was 16, but to be honest it didn’t matter how old he was because he’d always be her kid brother. A 10,000 year age gap did that.

“He’s one of the first to come, I promise.” He said. “But, I need more than one kid.”

“Oh.. alright.” She said. “I’ll get you a real list by the time I’m back.”

“Thank you.” Ben said. “And don’t worry- if he still wants to go see your dad like you do, he can- it’s all a matter of getting them and Auradon’s people used to eachother first, before there’s any possible talks of free travel.”

“Right.” Persephone nodded. “Speaking of, I probably need to get going. They’re waiting for me.”

“Be safe.” He said as she hopped down from the desk.

“I would be if my mom let me keep my knives.” She said as the two headed back down. “It’s so rude, she always takes them. She even took the one Heidi found me!”

“No- that one was your favorite!”

“I know!”

———

#oop this has been in the drafts awhile #ben and persephone’s friendship :) #fresa’s fics #descendants #fresa is talking about her ocs

[bungou-stray-dingus]

Seasonal Headcanons

Anime : Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters : Fyodor Dostoyevsky , Dazai Osamu , Atsushi Nakajima , Edgar Allan Poe

(Why is it so flipping hard to find Poe gifs. Poor baby needs more recognition 🖤)

Winter

Fyodor Dostoevsky

* Loves winter time, it reminds him of home, especially when it snows. He finds it beautiful, especially when you stand outside, your hands upturned, trying to catch the flakes in your hands.

* Gets you your own Ushanka after seeing you try it on. “This will keep your head warm.” He says, putting it on for you. “Hmm, seems I have given you mine.” He takes yours off and switches it with his own. “That’s not right either.” He bites his thumb as he thinks. “Ahh, it’s you. Okay, here you go.” Slips your hat back on, he thinks you look perfect, especially when you give him that shy smile as a way of thanking him.

* Kisses the tip of your nose after you come in from outside. The cold turns your nose and your cheeks a bright red. “Gorgeous.” He says, tapping the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

* Already has a fire burning in the fire place for you to warm up next to. He pulls out his cello to play for you. He likes when you hum along to the tune, your head swaying in time.

* If he notices you look cold he’ll take his cloak off and wrap it around your shoulders. Even if you say you don’t need it, he won’t believe you, so you might as well just go along with it.

* It’s cute how much he cares about you. “I’ll need that back before I leave.” He’ll say, but you’ve already dozed off. Having his cloak around you was second best next to having his arm around you.

* On lazy nights, when the fire was burning slow and the snow was falling, he would pull you on his lap on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

* Those were your favorite times, when everything was quiet, the only sounds were both your hearts beating in sync and the crackling of the wood in the fireplace.

* “Beautiful...” he’d say quietly when you’d fall asleep in his arms, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

* He’ll lift you slowly, cradling you in his arms, making his way to the bedroom and laying you gently down and tucking you in, pressing his lips to your forehead.

* “Sleep well, my darling.” His lips still brushing against your skin as he said it.

* The winter was beautiful, but he just might have found something more gorgeous than the season.

Spring

Dazai Osamu

* He didn’t really have a favorite season until he met you.

* “The leaves are growing on the trees!” You’d cheer while looking out the window. He started sharing in your excitement at the act of nature.

* He liked laying on hills, your head in the crook of his elbow as you pointed out the shapes in the clouds. You’d turn to look at him, the sweetest smile on your face.

* You’d grab a fistful if wild flowers and you’d sit on his lap, making daisy chains and flower crowns. He proudly wore them, just to see the smile on your face when you put the crown on his head.

* You taught him how to make the crowns, and he came home one day with a beautiful crown. “For the pretty princess.” He said as he placed it on your head. The blush in your cheeks matched the pink of the flowers in your hair.

* He’d hold your hand in his as you took walks through the park, he’d twirl you around in the middle of the sidewalk making you blush a deep red.

* You’d wear cute dresses, something that made him thankful that winter was over. He loved seeing the bare skin of your legs in the short dresses that flared out whenever he spun you around.

* Your hair was always up in a ponytail or a bun, making it easy for him to kiss your neck.

* Picnics. He’d take a day off work just to take you out for a picnic when the weather was nice.

* He’d try, but fail, helping you start a flower garden. He’d rather sit back and watch you delicately handle the seeds, talking to yourself about how beautiful they’ll be once they sprout.

* Spring was his favorite season now. Everything came to life around him, but it was your smile, your cheerful exclamations about nature in full bloom, everything about you in spring time made him feel alive. He loved spring.

Summer

Atsushi Nakajima

* You planned sweet vacations for your favorite boy.

* He deserves the best, and you were going to give him just that.

* “Where are you going?” He looked terrified as you stuffed ‘essentials’ into the suitcase. You had to sit down with him and explain to him over and over that you weren’t leaving him, and that you had packed his suitcase too for vacation.

* Poor boy doesn’t know what a vacation is. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him to let you surprise him. He worries about work, you tell him you handled everything already.

* That’s why Dazai was looking at him weird all day.

* He grips your hand tightly as you make your way through the airport, not wanting to get lost in the masses of people.

* Once through the TIA he’s slightly more at ease. You walk hand in hand to your gate and find a seat close to the window.

* He was nervous about getting on the plane, after the whole Moby Dick experience, so you soothes him, running your thumb over his knuckles as he gripped onto the arm rest.

* “We’ll be fine, take a nap.” You said as calming as possible, and he sighed, resting his head on your shoulder, letting himself slowly drift off to sleep.

* The flight was long, and when you had finally landed for your layover you were exhausted and your legs felt cramped.

* He tried to be sweet and let you sleep in when your alarm went off in the morning, so the two of you had to run through the airport to get to make your flight.

* He felt so bad and you couldn’t even be mad at him if you wanted to be.

* The plane landed in Nassau, but even the view from the air was beautiful.

* You booked a room for a week at the Grand Hyatt Baha Mar. It was beautiful, and the view of the ocean was amazing.

* You and Atsushi spent the mornings sight seeing, the Ardastra Gardens and Zoo, Fort Fincastle, the National Art Gallery and more.

* He always looked surprised when you took off your bathing suit cover at the beach, showing off your bikini, a new one every day.

* “Ah... you should put on some sunscreen.” I mumbled nervously, his eyes wandering over your bare skin.

* “Would you want to put it on for me?” You asked, and he nodded quickly, grabbing the bottle in his shaky hands.

* He would glare at the men who looked at you, but he wasn’t one for confrontation, so he walked next to you, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into the water with him.

* You spent the evenings either out for dinner or sitting in your hotel room, ordering food to your room.

* The climate seemed to change him, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, his hands lingered over your body during late nights.

* You loved this side of him, he kept you up every night until the sun began to rise, golden light shining in through the window.

* You were covered in hickies and he was covered in scratches, you both wore them well, you practically flaunted them when you were on the beach. You were his and he was yours and people would know.

* The vacation ended too fast, you both were slightly tanned and your daily and nightly adventures.

* “Can we do this again next summer?” He asked, his head on your shoulder as you sat on the plane.

Autumn

Edgar Allan Poe

* The first leaf fell, and the others fell soon after. It was your favorite season, everything had a gold and orange hue.

* The air became crisp, the season itself had its own smell, something that you couldn’t quite name, but it was a smell that you enjoyed and looked forward to.

* Afternoons were spent at cafes as Poe worked on new mystery novels, you watched him as he worked diligently, occasionally sipping on his drink and smiling to you before turning back to his work.

* Horror movie marathons, curled up on the couch with Carl in between the two of you. He would use themes and ideas from the movies for the novel he was working on.

* “This is a lot of candy, do you think Ranpo would like if I got him some?” He would ask as you walked through the aisles at the grocery store.

* “If you want to get him some candy you can, honey.” You’d say, stopping your cart so Poe could fill it up with bags of assorted candies.

* Halloween is your favorite, planning your costume for the best night.

* “Maybe I can be a dark and mysterious mystery novelist.”

* “Poe, honey, you’re supposed to dress up as something you’re not.” You’d say, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you walk by him.

* He helps you decorate, reaching the high places that you can’t.

* He carved a portrait of Carl into his pumpkin, he did it quite well. You proudly displayed it in front of your house.

* Your costume was a favorite, he was a wolf and you were red riding hood.

* He loved your costume, but got a little upset when a bunch of guys whistled at you.

* You didn’t stay out late, deciding to go home after an hour to hand out candy.

* He had drank a bit, which made him less reserved, not that you minded it.

* He didn’t remember much in the morning, but when he saw the love bites that trailed down your body he wished he could.

* You spent chilly evenings lounging on the couch, his head on your lap as you read his novels out loud.

* At night he would make love to you gently, your moans would mingle with the sound of the wind that whistled outside.

* His arms snaked around your body, the warmth emanating from you seemed to envelope him completely.

* He fell in love with you in October, and that’s why he loved fall.

#atsushi nakajima #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #edgar allan poe #atsushi x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #poe x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons

[nelvana]

In which another expedition begins

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the god of antimatter is met Previous: In which preparations are made

    “So, you’re all heading out now?” Gardevoir asked, leaning her back against the door frame of the base.

    Nelvana nodded, “yeah, no sense in waiting any longer than we already have. We had breakfast, we had a good night’s sleep, and we’re all packed item-wise.”

    “Ah, alright,” Gardevoir sighed with a small smile. “Sorry, I’m just a bit worried. That’s natural though. I’m sure that you all will be fine.”

    “I… Yeah, we will,” Nelvana replied after a moment’s hesitance, “how’s your telepathy? Do you think you’ll be able to talk to us at the end of the day at least?”

    “We’ll see…” Gardevoir murmured, “I hope so.”

    “Me too.”

    Scrambling back down the path over to the other two, Keahi skidded to a stop next to zir partner. Zie shook out zir feathers, and then looked between the two with a broad grin.

    “Getting in some goodbyes?” zie asked, receiving nods in response. “Cool! I think we’re just about ready, so everyone else will come up to say goodbye to you too, Gardevoir.”

    “Alright, that’s good. I wouldn’t want to have you all go without any goodbyes,” Gardevoir chuckled, “how long do you think you’ll be gone, by the way?”

    “Depends on how well everything goes, but I did double-check the maps, and with any luck we’ll be back here at the base after a little over a week or so!” Keahi chirped.

    “I’m glad to hear that,” Gardevoir hummed, “I do hope you’ll be back soon and that everything goes well.”

    “Thank you! And we all hope that things stay good back here too!” Keahi replied, “can I get a hug before we go?” zie requested, spreading out zir wings.

    Gardevoir giggled, “of course!”

    Bending down, Gardevoir reached her arms around the torchic to give zim a hug. They didn’t linger like that for too long, Keahi clearly too excited to be restrained for too long, but regardless, they enjoyed the embrace. Nelvana silently opened her arms up next, and Gardevoir hugged her as well. They stayed like that for a bit longer, and by the time they let go, the rest of the group had wandered back over to the base to give their farewells to their friend who would be staying behind.

    “Aw, do I get hugs too?” Ceebee asked, faking a whine in her voice. “I’ll be splitting off from the rest of you for a few days too!”

    Keahi laughed, “if you want hugs!”

    “Of course, I want hugs!” Ceebee gasped, and then laughed as well before going around to hugging her friends.

    As with goodbyes always were, especially surrounding large groups such as this, it took several minutes before everyone got through all their hugs and said what they wanted to say to those they would be departing for an unknown amount of time. Eventually though, there was nothing more that needed their attention here, and they realized they would have to depart.

    “Well, before I get too sappy, I should head off,” Ceebee sighed, “I’ve got all my items and this map to get to Murky Cave, so I should be good to go,” she said, “well, alright then! I’ll see you all later, some sooner than later! I’ll let the judge know you say hi!”

    “If you get the chance, could you check in with Mienshao too?” Damien requested.

    Nelvana nodded in agreement, “maybe see how they… handled Ninetales too.”

    “I’ll see what I can do! No promises though, we are in a hurry!” Ceebee told them, “I guess I’ll be off then! See you all!”

    Not wanting to wait and then be dragged down in some sort of delay, Ceebee gave one final wave to her friends before taking off to the sky. She simply swirled upwards into the air at first, before doing one final flip and then flying off eastwards.

    Alex snorted, “always a show-off…”

    “I suppose we should head off as well,” Tsuki said, “we would not want to fall behind any sort of progress.”

    “Of course,” Dusknoir agreed, “let’s get going then.”

    “Whoohoo!” Edgar cheered, doing his own flip in the air. “My first expedition! I’m so excited!”

    Keahi giggled, “yeah! I’ve never gone this far up north before, so this will be a new experience for all of us! In a way.”

    “Good luck, again, to you all!” Gardevoir hummed, beginning to wave at the remaining group.

    “Goodbye Gardevoir! We’ll see you later,” Nelvana responded.

    Tsuki stepped up beside Nelvana, closer to Gardevoir. She seemed to want to say one final thing as well, but swallowed her words back down as well, simply smiling at her friend.

    With that, the group of seven set out on the path heading west. There was no direct path out north right away, so they would have to start west before taking the turn out to where they actually needed to go. There was, of course, always the possibility as well that the path wouldn’t last the entire way there, but for the beginning it seemed safer to stick to the dirt road ahead of them.

    Nelvana and Keahi naturally took the lead, though Tsuki and Alex were never far behind. Every so often Tsuki would sniff ahead of the group, but would then fall back again to let the two team leaders take the lead. The three ghost-types made up the rear of their clunky lineup, though Edgar would hover around everyone, sometimes also hurrying off ahead, and other times even going off path and weaving through the trees before rounding back to everyone else.

    In general, they all managed to make their hike fairly swiftly. Damien had been getting more used to traveling for long distances, so he did not request frequent breaks like he had at first when he and Nelvana had been traveling to Murky Cave themselves. Everyone else was used enough to staying active that they were able to keep pace.

    After a few hours, the path became completely shrouded by piles of multicolored leaves coating the earth. Many trees above them were already bare, though the majority of them still managed to display the artwork between their remaining leaves.

    “Wow, I don’t usually get out by leafy trees like these in the autumn to really see this,” Keahi murmured in awe, purposely kicking leaves up around zim as zie walked. “It’s really pretty out here, isn’t it?”

    “Yeah…” Nelvana gasped, unable to tear her gaze away from the leaves. “Do… Do the leaves do this every autumn? How come?” she asked, crouching down to scoop up a small handful of leaves without pausing as she walked.

    “Oh, yeah they do! They lose all their leaves or else it’d be too heavy with the snow that comes in the winter,” Keahi explained, “I… I had almost forgotten that you hadn’t seen this before, I’ll be honest.”

    “I must admit that I have not either. The Frosty Forest remained in winter all year round. This will be my first proper autumn as well,” Tsuki commented.

    “Me neither! There weren’t any trees at all up at Sky Tower!” Edgar added.

    “Really?” Keahi gasped, “have none of you really had an autumn before?”

    “I have, don’t worry,” Damien answered, raising his hand from the back of the group.

    “That’s still only two out of… out of seven of us here! Wow!” Keahi exclaimed, “you all have been missing out! Summer is still my favorite season, but autumn is probably the prettiest. I bet you’ll like winter and spring too though! When there’s a new coat of snow on the ground, everything sparkles! And while spring starts out being yucky, it’s really nice when all the flowers start growing again!”

    “Mm… I look forward to all of it,” Nelvana hummed, dropping the leaves she had picked up and watching as they scattered behind her as she walked away.

    “I’m so glad that we actually get to see all this,” Alex agreed with an exhale, some of his stiffness going away with his breath.

    “What about you, Dusknoir?” Edgar asked, looping back around to the pokemon in question. “Don’t you think this is nice?”

    Dusknoir looked away from Edgar, “it… it is nice, I suppose.”

    Alex scoffed, though said nothing to Dusknoir’s lackluster answer. He wasn’t about to waste his breath in a pointless argument about the such when he could just enjoy what he had here right now.

    Keahi continued kicking up the leaves as zie walked, and soon Nelvana couldn’t help but mimic the action. She shuffled her feet through the warm colored mixture, reveling in the noise of the cracking.

    “They’re crunchy,” Nelvana commented quietly, swishing her tail behind her now as well.

    “Mhmm! It’s because they aren’t connected to the rest of the tree anymore!” Keahi told her cheerfully, “you know, sometimes when my family would go out to where enough leaves fall, we would make leaf piles and then jump in! Most of the leaves should have fallen by the time we get back, so maybe we could do that once all this is over!” zie suggested.

    “I’d like to try that,” Nelvana replied.

    Damien smiled as well, “oh yeah, leaf piles are tons of fun. The raking isn’t, but it is worth it.”

    Curious about the other two kicking around the leaves, Alex relented and decided to give it a go instead. Taking a few quick steps ahead, he kicked up a bunch of leaves, which all flew back at him, some landing on himself. Keahi burst out laughing first, and it wasn’t long before most of the group joined in. Most of the group.

    Dusknoir narrowed his eye, “you all should quit messing around. We shouldn’t be wasting time playing around like a bunch of children. If case you have forgotten, we could be being pursued.”

    Nelvana stiffened at Dusknoir’s tone, gripping her club close to herself and shifting to walk without kicking up the leaves as much as possible for now. Alex narrowed his eyes back in return, brushing the leaves out of his face before turning back to Dusknoir.

    “Oh, buzz off Dusknoir. Just because you aren’t happy that we aren’t stuck in hell doesn’t mean you get to ruin others’ enjoyment of an actually good life,” Alex hissed, “this isn’t slowing down our travel time any, I would know about that more than most. So just shut up.”

    Dusknoir’s eye narrowed more, and his hands clenched into fists, though Edgar floated in front of him before he could speak back in retaliation.

    “Hey! Come on, we shouldn’t be arguing about something like this!” Edgar insisted.

    “There’s no harm done by kicking up some leaves, so leave it be,” Tsuki added, shaking her head down at the ground which she refused to look at from.

    “Leaf it be?” Nelvana joked under her breath, lacking enough courage to speak any louder in this moment.

    Despite how quiet Nelvana was as she spoke, Keahi did still pick up the pun, and chuckled softly in return, patting zir friend’s back with a wing. Dusknoir scoffed, but didn’t push his point any further despite no longer having any interruptions.

    Even as they continued walking silently through the forest, something began to boil and burn within Nelvana. Frustration surged against Dusknoir, against him and how he tried to act like the responsible one despite what he’s done. She wanted to do or say something, to get him to back down and stop bothering her and her friends, but she feared him more than she hated him.

    Somehow, despite this, she managed to reach down with shaky hands to collect a large handful of leaves as she walked, having to pause this time to hold such a pile in just her left hand. Every fibre of her being felt tense.

    Spinning around suddenly to face the rest of the party behind her, she tossed the handful of leaves into the air, switching her grip to hold her club with both hands afterwards just in time to hit the bunch of foliage with her weapon, spreading them directly at Dusknoir. He flinched back from this, reacting to the simple leaves as if she had thrown dozens of blast seeds at him instead, and many of the others stepped aside from surprise.

    Still burning inside, mind whirling, Nelvana wanted to say something, but no words came out of her open mouth. Breathing heavily, she continued glaring at Dusknoir instead, whose eye was still wide in shock and confusion at her sudden outburst.

    Finally, her fear bubbled up again to drown her anger, and she turned back around and fled further up the path, kicking several leaves up behind her in her retreat.

    “Nel! Wait!” Keahi cried out after her, immediately going to hurry after zir partner.

    Alex hesitated for a moment, letting out a low hiss under his breath and sparing a sharp look back at the others, before bolting after the other two, dropping to all fours to pick up more speed.

    “Er… well, you did say you wanted us to hurry,” Damien quipped at Dusknoir, holding more bitterness to his tone than intended.

    With that, while he did not run, the gengar picked up his pace to pull ahead of the others and continue down the path to where the other three had disappeared into the thicket. Tsuki nodded along to Damien’s words, before exhaling with a growl.

    “We don’t want to fall behind,” she stated, before picking up her pace as well to follow the rest of the group.

    As they continued, Edgar positioned himself in front of Dusknoir, purposefully keeping his own pace slow enough to fall far enough behind Tsuki so that she and the others would be out of earshot. Still confused by all that just happened, and mildly planning to give everyone else a head start, Dusknoir didn’t notice what the duskull was up to right away, but by the time Tsuki’s white fur had fully disappeared, he began looking to get around Edgar and hurry along.

    “What do you want, Dusknoir?” Edgar asked quietly, continuing to subtlety angle himself to block Dusknoir’s path.

    Dusknoir narrowed his eye at him, “what do you mean?”

    “What do you want here, now that you’re in this timeline,” Edgar clarified, “you mentioned wanting to serve Dialga again after this, so is that it? You just want to follow them again?”

    “Of course. I am nothing if not loyal, and Dialga did bring me back here. I can only assume it would be to further my services,” Dusknoir answered.

    Edgar hummed, pausing for a bit before continuing, “that sounds boring. Do you not want to do anything else with your life?”

    “You don’t understand,” Dusknoir sighed, “Dialga has given everything to me. Why do you ask so much about it anyhow?”

    “Because!” Edgar twisted himself in the air as he floated. “Because… there’s more to life than that,” he said, finally settling on his own answer after much thought.

    Dusknoir shook his head, crossing his arms behind his back as they continued. With both of them floating and the rest of the group much farther ahead by now, none of the leaves crunched around them. Without that noise, the woods felt strangely silent.

    “Do you ever want them to like you? Or any of us, really,” Edgar asked, “because it gets harder for us to like you when you hurt our friends,” he added.

    “Why do you ask all these questions?” Dusknoir snapped, but then sighed and regained his composure. “No, I don’t care what any of you think of me. After this mission, we should be parting ways anyhow, so that does not matter.”

    Edgar’s eye darkened, “do you… really understand what you’ve done? Why they don’t like you?” He drifted downwards momentary before floating up again, as if gravity had become stronger for him in that moment. “That night you first showed up, I don’t think any of us had ever seen Alex so angry, or Nel so scared. You bring out the worst of them. Every time Kangaskhan calls Tsuki her child, I think Alex wishes he could hear his mom say that one more time. Nel has amnesia, and she still has nightmares about you, even before you showed up here. You will always haunt them, and you dare say that it doesn’t matter?” he seethed.

    Dusknoir paused for a few moments, stiffening at Edgar’s darker tone. Even haven only been around the duskull for less than a week, he knew this was unusual for him to say such things like this. Regardless, Dusknoir did not falter.

    “Why do you tell me all these things? It won’t change anything,” Dusknoir questioned.

    “I think it will. Because I think you do care, even if you say you don’t. I think you like this timeline, but you’re scared to admit it because that means the things you did were wrong,” Edgar answered, “and if you ever did want to make things better, you need to admit that to yourself.”

    “You’re naïve,” Dusknoir told him, “you are still young, you don’t understand what’s going on.”

    “Maybe! Maybe that’s true,” Edgar replied, returning to his usually cheery voice, which sounded hollow as Dusknoir looked into black sockets of the skull Edgar had as a face. “Maybe it is naïve for me to think that. Not many people see the sins of someone every time they look at each other and still dares to say that they can become better. But let me tell you something, Dusknoir, I’m not as naïve as I used to be. I’ve learned a lot, and a lot of that credit goes to what I’ve been shown in my time with Team Galaxy. They’re good people, and if you dare say that you don’t care that you’ve scarred them deeper than physically…” He trailed off, his voice growing softly strained; he wanted to cry. “Dusknoir? How many of your scars are actually from Nel or Alex? Because I only have this one, and it’s from the time I used to live under a legendary.”

    Bursting out from the forestry ahead, Tsuki padded up to the conversing pair just as Edgar finished his final response. She appeared oddly rushed, with her widened eyes and the obvious rush she had been to get back to the two others. Though after a few seconds of looking them both over, any previous nervousness was blinked back into her usual tension from being around Dusknoir; sensing his past disasters like Edgar did. Breathing out a relieved sigh, she spoke up.

    “We were getting worried about you when you fell behind,” Tsuki told them, “come on, the others are up ahead.”

    Almost as if relieved to be released from the conversation he started, Edgar nodded eagerly, the light returning to his eye as he hurried ahead of Tsuki to catch up to the rest of his friends. Dusknoir followed wordlessly, keeping his slower pace from before as he stared down at the natural canvas of color around all of them.

    Many hours later in that day, the group settled down to set up their camp for the night. Eventually the earlier tension left most of the party, allowing them to enjoy the rest of the day.

    “Alright, I can go get some firewood, does someone want to come with me? Buddy system?” Damien suggested, standing up from the small circle of rocks he had made up while most of the others had been discussing between themselves.

    “A fire?” Alex repeated, swiftly looking up at Damien as he spoke.

    “Er, yeah? For warmth and light in the night,” Damien responded, “it’s… nice.”

    “But we…” Alex trailed off, before his shoulder sagged as he looked back down at the small firepit. “Nevermind, go ahead,” he muttered under his breath, relenting to Damien’s wishes.

    “But what? Is there something wrong with a campfire?” Damien questioned, glancing over to Nelvana for clarification.

    “But we’re being tracked,” Dusknoir finished for the grovyle, “light in the darkness can attract unwanted attention,” he added.

    “The Lake Guardians shouldn’t be anywhere near us right now, it’s fine,” Alex groaned, sitting up again from his slouch. “Go ahead and get the firewood, forget I said anything.”

    Damien paused, but then nodded, “okay, if you’re sure then…”

    “I’ll go with you,” Tsuki volunteered, standing up from where she had been laying down and padding over to the gengar.

    With that, the pair headed off into the already growing shadows of the forest, leaves and the rare branch cracking under their feet.

    Nelvana picked at the grass beside her, “I wonder how Ceebee is doing. And everyone back at the base,” she murmured.

    “Has Gardevoir gotten in touch with you yet, or are we too far already?” Keahi asked, sitting down beside the cubone, who mimicked the torchic’s action and sat down as well.

    “No, I haven’t heard from her… Maybe that’ll change in a dream?” Nelvana said, then chuckled. “We’ve come full circle; me waiting to hear from her in a dream.”

    Keahi giggled, “guess some things will never change,” zie replied, “say, I forget, was Ceebee supposed to contact us tonight, or will she be silent during her trip to Murky Cave?”

    “We agreed that she’ll send us something through telepathy to let us know she’s alright,” Alex answered, “though, depending on how far she goes, that may be short since she may get tired.”

    “I miss them all already…” Edgar sighed, “but this has been really neat so far! Will this be forest all the way there, or will it open up a bit?”

    “We should pass through some valleys, and maybe actually up on some mountains eventually!” Keahi told him, “this is going to be quite the expedition.”

    “Ooh, that sounds really cool! I can’t wait!” Edgar cheered.

    Dusknoir silently observed. His gaze drifted, but more often than not lingered on Edgar. While he wouldn’t want to admit it, he hadn’t really been able to stop thinking about that strange conversation from earlier.

    While he wouldn’t want to admit it, the answer to Edgar’s last question had been only half.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the god of antimatter is met Previous: In which preparations are made

#galaxies above #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #writing #my writing #fanfiction #drawing #art #my art #digital art #team galaxy #nelvana #cubone #keahi #torchic #alex #grovyle #tsuki #absol #edgar #duskull #ceebee #celebi #damien #gengar #gardevoir #dusknoir

[thoughtslikeaminefield]

Seasons

We Can Spin The Sun Around (Summer)

Summary: Dean comes to see her after the events of First Blood in s12.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY,  lots of sex, some angst, references to infertility, comfort sex, longing for more, consent is sexy

Words: 2,700

Author’s notes: Aurora is my favorite Foo Fighters song.

All The White Horses (winter 2011 - s6) |  Mirror In The Sky (spring 2001 - pre-show) | I Bleed When I Fall Down (fall 2009 - s4)

She jogs up the outside stairs to her loft apartment, swinging her keys in her hand to find the one that fits her door. She had an invigorating day, and one of her yoga students, who she’s been slowly becoming friends with, asked her to meet for drinks. She agreed to do so after a shower and a change of clothes.

When she reaches the top of her stairs, she realizes that her door is already unlocked and instinctually reaches for the 9mm tucked in the side zip pocket of her backpack. She cautiously enters her loft then relaxes when she catches the familiar aroma of marinating steaks.

“Dean,” she sighs happily, safely stowing her weapon and rushing inside. She shrugs her bag into a nearby chair as she makes her way to the kitchen area.

He’s there, thin t-shirt pulling across his chest and worn jeans hanging on his hips, feet bare and skin unseasonably pale. She runs to him and buries herself in his scent as he grins and holds her tight.

“Surprise,” he says, brushing his lips in her mussed, sweat-dampened hair, inhaling deeply. He always says he loves the way she smells, even – especially – after a workout.

A thought occurs to her. She gasps and rears back to look him in the eyes. “How long do I have you?” she asks, beaming, her face heating and her lips pleasantly pulling.

She smiles so much when Dean’s there – every time, except that one September – that her face aches for days after he leaves.

Dean takes a breath, and she sees the cloud of uncertainty pass over his eyes. “Couple days,” he answers, cagey. “Sammy’s workin’ a few things with Mom and Cas, so I ninjaed.” He musters a smile.

She hikes onto her toes and kisses him, quick but hard. When she drops back to her feet, he follows her lips with his, dips into her, spins her and pins her to the kitchen island. He keeps kissing her until she can’t breathe, and his hands are under her flowy tank top.

“I should shower, I just finished class,” she whispers as his lips skim her jaw and her throat. He licks a line upward and groans.

“Nah,” he says, pushing a knee between her legs and pulling her tank top over her head to toss it aside. “I like you damp and dirty.” He braces his palms on the edge of the island and slants his smiling lips over hers, kissing her mouth again.

She tastes the salt from her skin on his lips and melts between her quartz countertop and his solid torso, slides her hands up under his t-shirt and around his back. She savors every second she gets to touch him, every inch of him, every sound and reaction he makes.

He keeps kissing her as he drags a stool around the island then pulls her leggings down over her hips and thighs as he slowly crouches at her feet.

“Can I have you right here?” he asks, looking up at her, those thick lashes and freckled cheekbones. How does his face always take her breath away?

“On the barstool, on the floor, on the countertop, the couch, your bed…” He knocks her flip flops to the side before tossing her pants over his shoulder, holding her gaze as he goes.

She pulls her bra over her head and tosses it to join her pants. “Let’s start with the barstool,” she answers, hopping up onto the padded seat. “Get up here.”

Dean grins and stands between her open, bare legs, hooks a hand under each knee and yanks her forward as she yanks his pants open. “Just like this?” he says, looping her knees over his forearms so he can brace his hands on the edge of the island.

She nods. “Kiss me,” she whispers as he pushes inside her.

~~~~~~~

She showers while he grills the steaks, asparagus, and potatoes. When she comes out, she remembers her prior engagement.

“Oh, crap,” she says. “Where’s my phone?” She spins around looking for her bag. “I have to call-”

Dean walks toward her, her phone extended from his hand, a small smile on his face. “We kinda knocked it on the floor when…” He shrugs and smirks.

It isn’t broken, thankfully, and she blushes as she accepts the phone from him then quickly taps out an apology and an excuse for not coming out to meet for drinks. Having an “unexpected visitor” isn’t a lie, but she still feels slightly guilty for forgetting.

“I set the table out on the deck,” Dean says, wiping his hands on a towel, eyeing her cravingly. “And grill packs are ready. Wine or beer?”

She sighs with a smile. “I missed you so desperately, you have no idea. Wine,” she answers.

Dean smiles and shoos her toward the open sliding doors leading to her deck. As she burrows into her chair, the setting sun shining through the thick aspen leaves and the river running loud but comfortingly, she hears the cork pop and feels a lump in her throat.

They’ve talked about it – it isn’t possible. But what if he could just be here every day when she comes home? She can support them both. No one in his life knows about her. He could just leave, couldn’t he?

Logistically, yes, but his spirit, his heart, his soul would be torn to shreds. She knows this.

Since Dean’s stint as a demon, there’s been a lot more transparency between them. They talk about things more. They share things. He told her about The Mark and his subsequent death and that he stayed away from her for a reason – to protect her – and how to deal with it if it ever happens again. Still, she wishes they could just throw it all into a fire and start over together.

Dean walks out onto the deck, two wine glasses dangling from one hand and an open bottle of Cabernet in the other. “I Googled wine for steak and asparagus.” He shrugs.

She grins and chuckles a little. Dean isn’t a wine drinker, but he will be if she wants him to for a night.

“Perfect,” she says.

They eat dinner and watch the critters surrounding her place. She’s since purchased the entire building and converted the lower level into an art studio for herself and space she rents to owners of a coffee and wine bar. Her loft feels like a treehouse and the deck is on the back of the property, so they have plenty of privacy.

She tells him about her new friend, and he tells her why he looks worn to the bone this time.

“Jesus, how long were you in there?” she asks, draining her glass.

“Six weeks, had to call in a favor from Billie,” he says, filling her glass again and rolling his eyes.

“The Reaper?” She’s reasonably alarmed. “Dean, that’s-”

“Cosmic consequences is what she said,” he cuts her off, refills his own glass. “But let’s just…” he shakes his head and sighs then looks her in the eye. “Let’s not talk about Billie.”

“Okay,” she answers with a mollifying smile. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Dean returns her smile. They both know their time together is precious and tentative and delicate. While they don’t keep secrets from each other, they also try not to dwell.

When they’re done eating, Dean uses his toe to drag her chair toward him. She giggles once he finally grabs the arms of the chair and pulls her the rest of the way. “C’mere,” he says, patting his lap.

She climbs astride him wearing an easy sundress and no underwear. They kiss, he runs his hands all over her, up under her dress. She pulls his t-shirt over his head and he gets rid of her dress.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, cupping her breasts in his hands and burying his face between them, laving and sucking her nipples, thumbing them.

“I dream about you,” he says, his voice quiet as his hands start to roam again, palming her hip, gripping the back of her neck, slipping between her legs and sliding a finger through her wetness. “Day and night,” he mutters around her lips.

He pushes his middle finger inside her, crooks and twists it, and she bites her lip on a moan before he pulls out and lifts it to his lips as he speaks.

“Sometimes I’m just driving, and I can almost taste you.” He slides that finger inside his mouth and closes his lips around it, sucks it clean with a groan. “I think about how tight and wet you are,” he continues, pushing two fingers inside her. “Every time I get off in the shower.”

He kisses her again, thrusting his fingers, curling them, brushing his thumb over her clit. “Every fucking time,” he whispers, dragging his lips over her jaw and down her throat, across her collarbones, taking a nipple between his lips. “Do you think about me?”

She nods, undulating, as she rides his hand, gripping his bare, broad shoulders. “I can’t get off unless I do,” she says.

It’s true. Even the time he spent in Hell when she never thought she’d see him again, no one made her feel the way Dean makes her feel.

He smiles and nips at her nipple, and she hisses. “Yeah?” he asks, flicking his eyes up to catch hers. “Tell me about it.”

“I try to imagine my hands are yours, I try to pretend that dildo is your cock – but nothing compares,” she gasps. He grinds the heel of his palm over her clit. “Just like that, I can’t- my hands aren’t big enough, and your body…”

Dean stands and pushes plates and glasses aside – some fall to the wooden planks of the deck, one glass breaks. He lays her on her back and drapes himself over her. She needs his weight on her; he can hear it in her voice.

“Like this?” he says, fingering her, sucking her nipples into his mouth, putting as much weight on her as he can in this position.

She nods, running her hands over his shoulders and down his back. “On the floor,” she says. “Inside. Fuck me on the floor.”

Dean doesn’t hesitate. He picks her up and carries her into the house, to the area rug in the living area, lays her down as he kneels between her legs and pulls his button fly open. He pushes the jeans as far down as he can to get as much skin on skin as he can. He wants to give her what she needs.

He lays over her, touching her everywhere and slides inside her. He’s kissing her as they grind across the rug, holding her face in his hands, his forearms tightly bracing her shoulders. The fact that his jeans are still bunched around his knees gives him the ability to work harder, to fuck her like she wants.

She opens her legs wide, bends them slightly at the knees. “This… God, Dean,” she moans. “No one… nothing feels like you do.”

He doesn’t have to ask – he can feel her coming. He can feel the familiar ripple and shake. “Fuck, make me come inside you,” he says, twisting his fingers in her hair.

“Yes, yes,” she says, digging her nails into the curve of his lower back, lifting her hips to meet his, calling his name.

~~~~~~~

He takes her again in bed before they finally fall asleep to the sound of the river. When she wakes in the morning, it’s the feeling of his lips on her shoulder and his hand splayed on her lower belly.

“Sometimes I wish…” he whispers when he knows she’s finally awake.

She wraps her hand over his, twines their fingers together. “That time’s passed,” she answers.

It wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t; Dean can’t be a father. He’s told her as much and she knows it just as well as he does. But when they’re in this bubble, they dream and wish and pretend.

Dean drops his forehead to her sun-freckled shoulder, nuzzles into the crook of her neck. She pulls his hand up to her lips and kisses his knuckles one at a time. His breathing picks up and she isn’t surprised when he rolls her to her stomach.

“Hungry,” he mutters, mouthing his way down and between her thighs. “Pop this perfect ass up and open, sweetheart.”

She grins and obeys, hugging her pillow tight, arching her back, feeling the stretch and pop. She groans when his tongue swipes up the crack of her ass, rims her tight hole. He’s so good at this.

He sucks and licks her until she’s jelly, slides his tongue down and inside her pussy, sucking the slick from her, tonguing her lips, pulling her clit into his mouth. Then he pushes two fingers inside her, pushes her open wider with his shoulders and settles on his elbows, the pads of his fingers rubbing rhythmically over that spongy patch behind her clit. Then his lips and tongue are working her ass again.

He wants to make her squirt.

“Dean,” she groans, rolling face down into her pillow, wrapping it around her ears, shutting out all other sensations.

He’s holding her in place, arm wrapped around one hip, hand in the middle of her shoulder blades, his own shoulders keeping her propped up for his other hand and his mouth. The third finger and his tongue pushing inside her ass is what does it.

She screams – not his name, not anything coherent – just months of tension and need leaving her body in shrill sounds and a gush of wet.

She’s catching her breath as he slowly climbs over her, knees on either side of her thighs, drops to all fours and pushes inside her. He starts with a slow but brutal pace, jerking her up the bed. She grips the headboard and whines.

“So good,” she breathes. “Come on.” She encourages him with words as she lies there boneless, taking him.

She briefly wonders if he fucks everybody this thoroughly before forcing that thought from her mind. They aren’t exclusive, even though she long ago stopped wasting her time on anyone but him, and she’s agreed to it; it’s logical, rational. But that doesn’t mean she needs to remind herself of the hundreds of other women he’s been with.

He holds her shoulders and thrusts into her over and over until he’s stuttering, muttering, then coming with an intensity of his own.

~~~~~~~

She packs him a lunch. He cooked for her when he got there, but she always finds a way to take care of him. That’s how she shows love. She gives him all of her and anything else he wants, plus more. That’s what she has and it’s his.

She doesn’t tell him to be careful; she stopped doing that years ago, but she kisses him longer than usual this time.

“You know that I’ll miss you and that I’ll worry and that I don’t want you to go, so I won’t say any of that,” she says, smoothing hands over the freshly washed cotton t-shirt and the warm breadth of his chest.

“And you know I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to,” he says, tucking her hair behind her ear then dipping in to kiss her lips again. “Fuck, I want you.” He groans, gripping the strap of his duffle bag with one hand and her hips with his other.

She feels his body tense, warring over dropping his bag and dragging her to the couch, and walking out the door as planned. Sam and Cas and Mary need him back at the bunker.

She pulls back, presses her forehead to his. “Go,” she says, swallowing tears and resentment and regret. There’s a delicate balance that comes with what she’s chosen. She’s chosen Dean, but she won’t punish him for it.

He nods and she can see his lip tremble, feel him swallowing his own tears.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says as he reluctantly pulls away and she nods in return.

Then he turns and walks toward the door. He doesn’t look back as he straightens his stance, his shoulders wide and strong – and he walks out into the sun.

If you like what you’ve read, please let me know and/or buy me a coffee!

I Bleed When I Fall Down (fall 2008 - s4)

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader

[dreamingsushi]

Eternal Love of Dream - Episode 31

Hey there! It’s been a while since my last recap and I hope everyone is safe.  For many reasons I wasn’t able to keep watching, this has been a really stressful period for me as for so many other people my job is affected by the COVID-19.  In fact at the very moment I might be laid off in the next hours and it’s hard because I gave a lot during those past months, bringing people back home from around the world.  Bringing them back home to safety while I was facing the danger of getting infected and transmit the disease to my family members. I felt really depressed earlier this evening when I first heard about it, because it’s not just a job, it’s a life style, but then I thought that it’s okay.  We are all together in this and we will grow stronger from all of this.  I am going to use all that free time to do stuff I like and that includes giving more love to this tumblr of mine.  And I hope that my recaps once in a while make someone out there smile.  So everyone, please be stay safe, stay home as much as you can, this shall pass.

And now enough with my life, enough with things that worries us, let’s dig into the fantasy of the Pillow Book. I left last episode just right when Donghua is starting to feel something for Fengjiu. In the sense that he is touched that once in his absolutely long life someone doesn’t expect for him to protect them, but even jumped in to protect him.  Something very new and which makes him somewhat happy. He probably also feels less lonely. I believe Donghua must be really lonely actually, he lived for so long, is considered superior to all the other immortals from the Nine Heavens. I would feel left out too if I was him. Well anyways, that’s where we are now.  And I missed the opening theme, I love it so much. Haha. I’m like a granny, always saying the same things.

So Fengjiu and Donghua are now in a badroom and Fengjiu seems to have caught a cold. She’s calling for her mom crying and when Donghua leaves her side, she starts crying louder until he comes backs and she grabs his hand.  When she wakes up, she’s using Donghua as a pillow and she gets nervous, well probably worried that she said or did something, but Donghua just keeps reading his book like nothing weird happened. Well nothing too weird happened, but the whole situation there is weird. She’s embarrassed but still thanks him for saving her from Miao Luo’s spell/poison whatever it is. But it’s not enough to make her forget that he left her in there six months, if he didn’t, she wouldn’t have to be saved. Then she asks him why he didn’t push her away while she was sleeping, if he did, she wouldn’t have tried to “climb”on him again and he says that since she came to him of her own will for once, why would he want to push her away?

Then, when she’s about to leave, she sees a silhouette at the door: it must be Ji Heng, so she tries to hide under the blanket with Donghua and tells him to remind silent so she won’t misunderstand - right if she finds you under the blankets, she won’t misunderstand... - and he’s why would I be afraid that she misunderstands, I think you are the one misunderstanding me and he flips her on the bed as if he’s about to kiss her. Poor Fengjiu, she’s trying so hard to supress her feelings for him, well at least to hide them, and he does that.  That’s too much of a tease Donghua, spare the poor girl, but then again he doesn’t know about her feelings - how could he when she’s acting so cold to him. So he goes to get medicine for her and tells her to lie down properly so she could rest and heal faster. When he gets to the kitchen, he refuses Ji Heng’s help and she looks pretty unhappy that Donghua takes such care of Fengjiu. Jelly girl.

When Fengjiu finally comes back home, Yan Chiwu is so relieved to see her.  They both couldn’t find the pinpo fruit. Oh wow. She’s asking again love advice from Yan Chiwu. I am actually curious to see what he’s going to say. He’s my favorite love expert, definitely. Oh god. Amazing. Best explanation ever. So according to him, Donghua is doing it on purpose to make Ji Heng jealous and hurt her feelings. That’s priceless. Donghua probably doesn’t even know that Ji Heng has feelings for him and if he does, he most likely doesn’t really care about them. That’s Donghua for you.

Siming and Chengyu are thinking about Fengjiu when she was little, they remember how naive and cute she was. Once Zheyan told her that she ate peaches that would make a little baby grow inside of her. She cried so much that he ate the peaches himself to prove him that it wasn’t true and she would look at Zheyan’s belly everyday until she was convinced he wasn’t pregnant. Then Siming worries about Lian Song having his doubts about Fengjiu and also reminds Chengyu that Donghua and Fengjiu used to not have a common fate together.

Donghua pays a visit to Miao Luo. She’s like, watch out, I am about to come out and I saw your weakness, a young lady wearing white. He uses his spiritual energy to strenghten the seal and then leaves while she laughs like the mad woman she is.

Fengjiu sees Donghua coming and escapes from behind using her fox form. Yan Chiwu finally realizes she’s the fox tribe crown princess (not exactly the right term here though). So Donghua asks him how long they have shared the same house and his tells him to switch rooms with him. At first, Yan Chiwu refuses until he realizes that he would be living next to Ji Heng by doing so. And then he’s like hell yeeeeaaah! Poor Yan Chiwu... She’s never going to be yours though... I can feel it, you’re like... too naive, exactly the kind of character that never gets the girl. It breaks my heart. When he tells Ji Heng that they are going to live together, she looks so distressed, even more when he tells her that he used to live with Fengjiu, which means that now Donghua lives with her. Oops. Broken heart much.

Xiangli Meng bumps into Fengjiu and tells her that there is only one season in the Fanyin valley which is winter. It’s a remember not to talk about Alanre who liked very much spring, summer and fall before she died. It’s a taboo subject so he won’t say more. Then she asks about the box he always carries with him but he doesn’t want to tell her about it and runs away.

Fengjiu finally notices Donghua is living next door and confronts him a little bit about it. He says she now has to look after him. He kind of threatens her about letting everything out about how she planned on stealing the pinpo fruit and gets her to cook for him. While she exits, she loses balance on the door thing and Donghua magnificiently catches her in this so weird gesture. Like why is her leg so high up like a ballerina and why does his arm is lifted up like this? Is this the Nutcracker? Are they going to dance ballet? Maybe it’s supposed to look romantic. Intense exchange of looks. She notices his arm is bleeding.

Yan Chiwu is sad and drinks with Xiangli Meng. Xiangli Meng comforts him and asks him what he thinks about Donghua moving next to Fengjiu. He says it must be because Donghua likes her and that they seem to be a match. Chiwu is like so happy: when Ji Heng will be heartbroken by Fengjiu getting together with Donghua, he will be the one comforting her. He’s going to try and play the matchmaker between Fengjiu and Donghua.  Hahaha! He doesn’t need to I think.

Fengjiu brings medicine for Donghua’s wound. She’s not too happy to have to put it on for him herself and asks him how come he let himself get injured by a demon that weak, it doesn’t make sense. Did he do it on purpose to force her to keep him company? And he’s like, do I look this bored and she’s like, euh well yes. He says she seems to hold many misunderstandings against him and asks her what she’s going to do about the pinpo fruit and she says she’ll steal it next month.

The master teacher adds Fengjiu’s name on the list of participant for the competition. It’s thank to Donghua and Chiwu uses the opportunity to try to speak well of him and try to make Fengjiu fall for him. She’s like how come you suddenly don’t dislike him anymore and he’s like hahaha now that he did that for you I realized that I had many misunderstandings about him and you definitely shouldn’t refuse his friendship. And she’s like, well he did help me, let me think about it. She leaves and he hits himself because he feels bad about trying to match his friend with someone she dislikes so much.Then Jielv sees him and because of her, he realizes he was the only one not knowing that Fengjiu likes Donghua, is he stupid enough to believe it when a girl tells him she doesn’t like a guy? And then he’s like so when Ji Heng says she doesn’t like me... And she cuts him saying “no she really doesn’t like you”. That girl is priceless and so precious, I love her. She gave up on Donghua so bravely. She’s perfect.

The episode ends on the trio drinking together, like they always do. I love the three of them together, Fengjiu, Chiwu and Chiwu. They’re like the idiot trio <3

And once again, I am going to talk about the soundtrack. I really love it. I usually skip the openings and endings, but never for this one.  So beautiful **

#eternal love of dream #eternal love 2 #the pillow book #sequel #sanshengsanshi zhenshangshu #three lives three world #Dilraba Dilmurat #bai fengjiu #jiuge #gao weiguang #vango gao #donghua dijun #donghua #wang xiao #siming #yuan yuxuan #chengyu #fu miao #xiangli junuo #yi daqian #xiangli meng #zhuang dafei #jielv #zhang wen #miao luo #Liu yuxin #ji heng #liu ruilin #yan chiwu #chinese drama

[ajoycegallogo]

( SEASONS ❄🍃🌞🍁)

( SHORT STORY )

"WINTER" ❄

love is such a fleeting concept nowadays , you can keep saying " I LOVE YOU " to someone and it wouldn't mean much .

I used to be one for romance, one of those who would sing about how love conquers all or one of those who still

believed that true love still exists , but as the seasons changed , so did my perspective on love .

It was during the first days of winter , the snow slowly falls on to the paved roads , the leaves have started

to wither , and my heart freezing over, reacting to what had just occured .

I was patiently waiting at the diner where my boyfriend and i frequented , the familiar smell of the eggs and bacon

from the kitchen , the soothing music of the jukebox permeating the room , and kind smiles of the waiters would always

put my mind at ease , we were set to meet there for our dinner date and i was planning to ask a very important question.

as I saw his figure approached the door , his face seemed gloom . he then sat down on the chair from mine .

" what's the matter baby ? " I asked

" We need to talk." he answered meekly , "This is not working out anymore ."

Taken back i answered , "what do you mean baby ?"

" stop calling me that! " he yelled at me.

after that everything was just a blur of colors and a jumble of word . that conversation lasted about 20 minutes before

before he decided to leave , i was too shock to give chase . as i sat there thinking about how everything went wrong ,

I took the small box from my coat pocket only to open it and wonder what am i gonna do with this couple ring that i am

planning to gave him as a gift for our anniversary . I felt as if my world has been turned upside down , after 2 years

into a relationship I thought that we were strong enough to last a lifetime . after wallowing in my sorrows for about an

hour , I decided to go back home and never come back to that diner but before i went out the door , i wanted to leave

a parting gift to the place that had hold so many memories .

I placed the the box with our two rings inside in the counter with a note that reads , " I didn't had much luck with this .

I hope that it would be more useful for you ." and left the place .

the walk home that night was a lonely one , the winds were singing a harrowing tune, the sound of the birds are nowhere to

be heared , and even the annoyance of traffic is nowhere to be heared , my heart that day was as frozen as the winter day .

(SPRING 🍃)

Nicole , a few friends , and i went to the salon and went to buy clothes is done .

As we arrieved at the place , I can tell that the air is fresh and relaxing filled with the smell of vanilla coffee,

oh how i missed this place .

the girls took their time taking pictures and posting it on their social media accounts .

while I would love to join nicole listening to music while enjoying the view . I decided to step

out a little far from where they are and get some time alone feeling the place where i can see the swing

that reminds me of him .

I've always love the night air , the view of the city lights makes me feel lightened up the absence of car noises

is calming .I then decided to ride on the swing to emmerse myself , and to think .

looking back, I found myself asking questions like ; why i didn't see it sooner ? was it my fault ? and why

have I let myself go ? these and thousand more questions were swimming in my mind , a part felt like screaming at the

world , thinking what I did do to deserve such a fate . As I put my hands on my face , hurt at everything that had happened

, I found out that I was no longer alone .

" Wow, A guy said from other end of the bench , " you look terrible everything okay , there ? " i will never forget the

first time I looked upon that manly figure , his beautiful deep brown eyes pierced right through my soul .

"Hello? he exclaimed ," not much of a talker are you ? well dont mind me then. " he then takes out a little pad and

starts to scribble something on it .

"what you got there ? " I finally asked .

" we'll someone finally decided to talk ! he said and smile, " well if you really want to know , I usually go out on quiet

night like this to draw . and tonight I found myself drawn in this place .

" Are you like some sort of an artist ? '"

He then laughs a hearty laugh " oh I wish I was that good , but no this is just something I love to do to get my mind

off of the things that stresses me out . " she then caught eye that I kept looking at his sketch pad , " would you like

to see some of my drawings? "

" I would love to . " he then handed me his sketch pad and as i flipped through his work, my eyes laid feast on beautiful

pencil work of buildings , nature , people , and all manner of beautiful scenery . " Wow , you are amazing at this !"

" Thanks ... " he replied , " the name's Yuki by the way ." he then reaches out to shake my hand .

" I'm jillian , care to share what are you doing here by yourself ?

" we'll if you see right there , " I said as I am pointing at my friend taking pictures , I was with those girls a bit

earlier but I decided to step out and get some time alone ,"

" Well if you want to go have some fun , I know a spot that is pretty awesome ." he said while standing up and holding

out her hand , " so do you want to come with or not ?"

I took his hand and exclaimed , " alright , lead the way ." t

he said with a big grin on his face while he drags me to a place that I wa unfamiliar with . Thinking about it now ,

why did I trust him so easily? he was a complete stranger and yet I feel like I already know him .

after around 10 minutes of walking we arrined at the place called " solace "the place was not crowded but kinda lively

. it was a small cafe on the edge of the town , the atmosphere there was so much more realxing than the place that

i used to go . " what do you think of the place ?"

" wow ,I said while I was scanning the place full of vintage knink knacks and paintings , " this place is amazing . how

did you find this place? ' I've lived all my life in this city and I'VE Never found this place ."

" This place just opened up, a friend of mine owns it , So if you come here with me , you can get a discount ."

" sweet , you must have some interesting friends ."

" Ha - Ha yeah ." a moment of awkwardness then ensues .

" i think we should take a seat ." I said in attempt to break the atmosphere .

" Oh right , I know a good spot . " he then leads me to a spot on the roof everlooking the countryside .

" you're right . this is amazing spot ".

" yeah ... OH I already ordered us their most amazing drink , I'm sure you'll love it . It's bavarian coffee

and it is by far the best coffer I have ever tasted ."

" I'll take your word for it " , as I said that , the waiter brought us the drinks , " Well speak of the devil ."

" cheers ." he said as he raises his glass . as we drank the coffee , the bitterness of the coffee started to dance

on my toungue , as well as something sweet , is it milk / fruit ? or maybe it's the coffee itself? eaither way ,

that coffee huh?"

" definitely never tasted something like that before . i love it " the night then continue with some lovely conversation

between strangers . We were so preoccupied with each other that the staff had to kick us out because the place was

closing .

"Wow !" she exclaimed , I didn't realized we were talking that long ."

" yeah me neither ." I commented , But I had a really nice time with you."

he smiled shyly , Hey do you want to do this again sometime? "

" Yeah , I'd love to . " we then exchanged numbers and went on our seperate ways . that night I went back home that day

with my friends , a smile on my face , and once frozen heart started to bloom once more.

(SUMMER 🌞)

A few months passed and we kept seeing eachother , sometimes to small places , like our favourite hangouts , other times

to some place special , like a masked ball . we gotten to know eachother very well . and as the summer times roll in ,

we had dated for about two months , " hey there sweet cheeks ." he said to me in a sweet manly voice ,

" what do you want to talk about ?"

"hey there big butt." I said as I try to keep the atmospehere , what's the rush ? can't we just eat and drink first ?

he started to stare me down ,suspicious of my intentions , what's the matter yu?

" you're acting really suspicious right now," he said that as the waiter brought us our food , " did my food had poisoned?

"what ? no ! why would I even do that? "

" I dont know maybe you think im annoying but breaking up with me is too hard and now you're getting rid of me

the old fashioned way. "

I sat there with a bland look on my face . " yu that doesn't mean make any sense , If I found you annoying , why would

I be asking you to move in with me ?

he sat back with a stunned look on his face , " what ... you want me to move in with you ?"

" We'll we've been together for a while now and I think we're ready to take our realtionship to the next step ,"

as I said as I handed him the keys to my apartment , " so yu would you like to move on with me ?"

I stood up , he grabbed me and kiss me on the foredhead , " yes ofcourse I would love to but wouldn't it be better that

we built our own house after this ?

" we will get there yu ."

" I love you jill "

" I blushed ... " I love you too yu ."

at a loss for words , I did the onlt that I was appropriate to do , he ran to me and embraced me . " thank you , he said

our favorite stuffs and ourselves , we meant the world to eachother and nothing can separate the both of us .

I felt like the most luckiest man alive to have you by my side ."

A few more months passed and I our love only grew during those times . We knew everything about ourselves .

(AUTUMN🍁)

YU'S POV

that day , we were supposed to meet by the park where we first met . The autumn leaves were starting to fall , the

wind had started to turn cold , and I was sweating with anticipation . WE were together for 10 months , that's not

a long time , I bought her the ring last week , it wasn't the fanciest ring out there but I thought that she would

okay with it , I waited for her at the bench where we met each other for the first time , I was lost in thought of

our future together , the family we would make , when I heared the screaming ,

I immediately ran towards it , it was a car crash and as I move through the crowd and I saw a body lying on the ground,

it was jillian ... I wa shocked , I immediately ran towards her , held her and yelled , " Somebody please ! Somebody

call an ambulance ! frustrated at the slow reaction of the crowd , I carried her all the way to a nearby hospital .

I slammed through the door and screamed , " Somebody help! Somebody help my girlfriend ! " One of the nurses took her

and send her to the operating room . I followed close behind but was stopped by one of the staff. ' i'm sorry you

have to wait here ." and then it started the most frustrating few hours of my life . it was agonizing , the uncertainty

of what is to happen , the self - blame that I had to endure , and the feeling of helpless was consuming me .

after a solid 5 hours , one of the doctors came up to me , " So doc , when can I see my girlfriend ? "

the doctor just stood there , unsure of how to break the bad news , but i could already tell.

I'm sorry ," the doctor said as I began to break down in tears , " we found this in her backpack . I think

you would like to keep it ." he handed me his a box and as I opened it there are two rings inside a couple ring

the last thing of hers that I held . I sat back down looking through her at the morgue with her cold body .

my eyes filled nothing but tears .

A week after her death , here we are now , at her funeral . Her family asked me to do a speech on her behalf .

I'm nervous , anxious about what to say . and worried that I don't get to say what I need to say . But as I

walk towards the altar and as her coffin is being burried , "My love for her will never falter and yet my heart

has dropped and may never rise again just as the leaves of an autumn ."

( END)

@queenlupitajones

I would like to apologize sir for passing this after the deadline 🙏

BY : Angel Joyce Gallogo

HUMSS 3

[katsbooks]

Schwarze Nacht - Chapter Six

Walter C. Dornez x Reader

‘All orders by Master Integra Hellsing will be followed to the letter. Any complaints will be given in written form to the Head Maid, who will in turn give them to Master Hellsing. You will have Sundays and Wednesdays off to do as you please, within reason and without violation of Organization policy. Otherwise, you will be in the uniform given to you at all times outside of your room. Your shift will begin at 5:30 am and will end only when the Head Maid, Butler (Sir Walter C. Dornez) or Master Hellsing deems it over.

      If there are any questions or concerns that are not addressed in your pamphlet, please consult the Head Maid or Butler.’

           Walter began (Y/n)’s weapons training the day after the probation period ended.

           Where she was pretty efficient with a handgun and a normal rifle, Walter wanted her to try out a sniper rifle. He had her outside on the rolling grounds of the manor, with a target over 500 meters away. She laid on her belly, the rifle cradled in her hands as she looked down the target sight. Her shoulders and arms were cramping a little from holding the heavy gun for so long and her grip was starting to grow shaky.

           Walter was knelt down beside her, instructing her on how to steady the gun. He reached down and held the hand holding the underside of the barrel with his own, offering a little more stability. (Y/n) aimed carefully, for the heart of the target and held her breath for a second, before firing, releasing her breath.

           “Five centimeters to the left, but you’re starting to get the hang of it,” Walter said with an approving smile. (Y/n) groaned and flipped the safety on, setting the gun down so that she could sit up, rolling her stiff shoulders. “You’ll grow used to the weight and position. It’s always difficult to deal with at first.”

           “I hope so, otherwise I’ll end up looking like a board….” She commented, rubbing her neck and arms to loosen the tense muscles.

           “Hm….are there any other weapons you’re interested in learning how to use?” Walter asked. (Y/n) thought for a minute.

           “…knives.”

           “Knives?”

           “Yeah. They’re easier to conceal, lighter and just seem a little more practical in my personal opinion,” (Y/n) shrugged. Walter hummed as he disassembled the sniper rifle, placing it back into its case.

           “….well, I don’t know much about handling knives, but Master Hellsing and Alucard are quite familiar with blades. I could talk with them about possibly teaching you,” he suggested. “Until then, though, I would like for us to focus on your gun handling.”

           (Y/n) grimaced a little. “Lovely.”

           By the time Sunday rolled around, she ached in places she didn’t know she could ache. Walter had her practicing with that sniper rifle every day, assembling and disassembling it, cleaning it and shooting it. She rubbed the back of her neck, sitting in the galley with her morning coffee.

           “Good morning, Miss (Y/n).”

           She looked up wearily, “Morning, Walter.”

           “Are we tired, my dear?” he inquired, sitting down across from her with his morning tea and a small stack of toast.

           “Mostly body sore, which in turn makes one tired,” she said.

           “You’ll have to grow used to that feeling, working with that rifle,” he stated.

           “I know. I’m just being a whiner,” she smiled a little. Walter chuckled as he stirred in his usual spoonful of sugar for his tea. “Doesn’t training me take away from your own duties, Walter?”

           “Not really. It is part of my job to see that you’re properly trained,” he said. (Y/n) hummed and swallowed a mouthful of her coffee. “So what is the plan today, (Y/n)?”

           “I’m planning on walking to town today,” she said. “I’ve got a letter coming in and a book I’ve been waiting to come out is finally in the stores.”

           “Ah, would that be a sequel to that mystery novel I loaned you?”

           (Y/n) grinned, “You caught me.”

           “I suspected as much when you kept it a little longer than usual,” Walter smiled.

           “Yeah, I really liked it. I might pick up the first while I’m there, too, so I don’t have to keep stealing yours,” she chuckled.

           “Well, why don’t I accompany you today? I’d rather like to get my hands on it as well.”

           “It would be nice to have some company,” (Y/n) admitted. “I was planning on leaving after I finished breakfast.”

           “Very good, then.”

           (Y/n) smiled and turned her attention to finishing up her bowl of sliced peaches. Thinking on it, it really hadn’t felt like she had been there over three months. It felt both shorter and longer than that.

           “Something bothering you?”

           “Hm? Oh, no. Just thinking about how long I’ve been here. It doesn’t feel it,” she said.

           “Is that a good thing?”

           “I suppose so. I feel comfortable enough here to not really let something like time bother me, but then I think on how long or short it’s been since I arrived here and I’m surprised because it doesn’t feel like that much time had passed at all,” she said.

           “When you stay busy and you work with people you enjoy being around, you tend not to notice time passing by,” Walter stated. “Now then, are we finished?”

           (Y/n) looked down at her empty bowl, where her fingers had absently been feeling around in. “…I guess so. I hadn’t even noticed I had finished my breakfast. Darn.”

           Walter chuckled and stood, putting away his and (Y/n)’s dishes as she wiped down the table real quick, before they walked out of the manor together, once he let Integra know where he was going.

           It was a pleasant day, the sky was bright blue and there was a comfortable breeze blowing, the temperature just cool enough to ask for a light coat.

           “It’s growing close to winter,” Walter noted, having donned a light jacket before leaving.

           “Yes, my favorite time of year. I love the cold,” (Y/n) smiled brightly. “I love the snow and the warm blankets and hot chocolate, all of it.”

           “Even the blizzards and ice storms?”

           “Alright, not real big on them, but the results can be pretty.”

           Walter chuckled, “I’m rather one for fall or spring. Nice in between seasons.”

           “Mm, yeah. The colors around that time of year are lovely,” (Y/n) agreed. “Weather’s not too bad, either.”

           “Not at all.”

           They stopped at the post office for (Y/n) to grab her letters, which she opened as they walked to the bookstore.

           “’ Miss (Y/n),

                       As pleased as we are to hear that you have a full-time, successfully paying job, I’m afraid we must decline your offer of returning home, even for visit. Your parents have both decided that it is within everyone’s best interest for you to stay—‘ Oh this is just rubbish,” she scowled, folding it up. Walter looked at her curiously.

           “May I ask why you would have to send an inquiry to return home?”

           (Y/n) sighed, tossing the letter in the trash she passed by to open her second envelope.

           “I mentioned that I moved here from America, on my parents’ pushing. Well…I got into a little bit of a scrap back home, when my parents won the lottery and joined the rich folk. I didn’t approve of the change in behavior just because we had money and they didn’t like that too much. So…hence why I’m here, working for Master Hellsing, instead of living at home with my parents. I guess they got a secretary now to deal with the letters. Ugh,” she shook her head, tugging out the second letter. “Dear (Y/n), really happy to hear that you’re working full time now! So glad to hear that Head Maid got what was coming to her. Sorry this is so short, but expect a present within the next couple weeks! Lots of love, Sammy.’ Hm…what is that girl planning? Her letters are never this short.”

           “Your friend, I take it?” Walter smiled.

           “Yeah, Sammy. She’s something else, I’ll tell you that,” (Y/n) smiled fondly as she pocketed the letter, before glancing over the last three envelopes. “Marriage offer, marriage offer…ooh, what’s this? Oh. Oxford’s rejection letter.” She tossed them into the next trash can they passed.

           “Marriage offers? Because of your parents, I take it?”

           “Because of their money, is more like it. What these poor sods don’t realize is that I don’t see a penny of that money,” (Y/n) shrugged. “If I’m going to marry someone, it’ll be because I love them and they love me. Not because of money or looks or age or whatever…”

           “That’s a very wise thing to do,” Walter hummed.

           “I don’t know about wise. More like just…common sense. Why marry for money or looks if you’re going to be unhappy for the rest of your life, right?”

           “Very true,” he agreed, stepping forward to open the door to the bookstore for her. She flashed him a smile, stepping inside with him behind her. She loved the smell of a bookstore, breathing in the scent of paper and ink.

           “What a wonderful smell,” she sighed happily.

           “Indeed, it is such a comforting scent,” Walter agreed. (Y/n) smiled, and walked to the new books table, finding what she was looking for.

           “Oh yay, it’s a sales week too!” (Y/n) nearly squealed, hugging the book to her chest. Walter chuckled softly, picking up a copy for himself.

           “It’s a pleasure to see you so excited over something so small, Miss (Y/n),” he smiled warmly. (Y/n) felt warmth slide up her cheeks and she gave a sheepish smile.

           “I’m sorry, I just…I really like reading. I’d like to be a writer someday,” she admitted.

           “Really? I’d be most interested in seeing what you would write,” he said. (Y/n) chuckled softly.

           “Maybe someday,” she smiled, heading towards the checkout line. Walter smiled as he watched her for a minute, before following after her with a slight pep in his walk.

#hellsing #hellsing fanfiction #reader insert #reader #walter #walter c dornez #walter x reader #walterxreader #fanfiction #fanfic

[goldenscript]

i like you (a whole latte) (m)

↳ prompt: "i spilled your coffee on you so let me make it up to you” au + wonho

pairing: shin hoseok | reader genre: meeting in a coffee shop au / fluff, smut warnings: oral sex word count: 6,259 description: although the first seasonal drink of autumn has always been the epitome of joy, you find pleasure elsewhere — more specifically, in someone. author’s note: with all my love, i dedicate this to the one and only wonho-loving hoe, @wonhopes <3

At the start of every season is a coffee lover’s favorite occasion. A period of excitement that lasts for a measly twelve-week period until something newer takes its place, much more equipped for the upcoming holiday season, with commemorative flavors that elicit the very nostalgia that comes respectively in the autumn, winter, spring, and summer. Each one more distinct than the other, setting themselves apart by name, taste, and warmth (or lack thereof). Although not all coffee lovers can say they enjoy holiday beverages, you are among the plenty that actually do.

It’s with great pleasure that you’ve taken the time to really bask in your day off work and school with a drink to encapsulate the rest of the autumnal season. Though they’re usually hits or misses depending on the vendor and the baristas, this is a pastime that you’re more than happy to oblige in nonetheless.

It’s barely 11 AM. The usual morning rush having died down a few hours ago, leaving behind a few scattered bodies congregating at the mahogany wooden tables. Another few gathered around the unofficial waiting area, all of which wearing hope on their faces to have their names called already. Some looking a little more irritated than the others, while others look just about ready to fall asleep right where they’re standing. Unlike them, the gruff-looking ones with permanent frowns etched on their faces and an atmosphere of urgency wrapped around them like snow-kissed mountaintops, you are in no rush. Even just waiting in line behind a couple of other people is nothing to you.

Scents of nutmeg, cinnamon, and the coffee grounds waft across the air and cling to the close-knit vicinity. All of which gloriously encompass one of the many passing drinks that have now been exiting the store. You hear a few passersby talking about the new drink of the season, they cited that, apparently, this is a far better cry than the Pumpkin Spice Latté, only encouraging your raging curiosity as the line progresses to the very front.

“Y/N! How can I help you today?” Bora asks with the customer-friendly smile, though it fails to hide the faint traces of camaraderie behind it. Her purple locks are pulled back into a low ponytail, with a black cap matching her apron, and despite her best efforts to hide her fatigue behind the fair-skinned concealer, you can still see it. For the most part, she’s still relieved to see you, smiling much more genuinely as you run a hand through your hair to smooth away the perpetual flyaways.

You don’t bother hiding your excitement as you place your order for the Salted Caramel Mocha, an espresso with steamed milk and delectable toppings of whipped cream, caramel sauce, sugar, and sea salt. All of which is supposed to burst with toffee and toasted nut flavors. But without hesitation, you tell her, “the Salted Caramel Mocha please. Make it a Venti.”

She lets loose a laugh, nodding as she punches in the digits for the order. She grabs the seasonal red cup and scribbles down your name in her neat scrawl before she winks at you, “Coming right up.”

In a flash, you pay for your order and watch as she passes on the order to one of her co-workers for brewing. And you stand with the rest of the restless bystanders, only you’re only one wearing a jovial expression and it earns you a few side glances, because it’s barely Monday and here you are looking as if it was Friday.

Of course, you don’t care. Nothing can change your happiness, not the side-eying people, and not even the fact that the cup is scalding hot. If waiting a few minutes to enjoy bliss is what it takes to enjoy the rest of the season then you’re more than willing to exert a special kind of patience you only reserve for moments like these ones.

As soon as Bora calls your name to hand off the drink, she warns you, “It’s hot, so wait a bit, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding, “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She winks, giving you a wave, “‘Course! Enjoy~”

You nod in response, feeling the heat seeps to the sleeve as you clutch it carefully. Walking from your friend, you give a final wave before you turn on your heel for a well-deserved day in your apartment with movies to nestle into.

The contents make your palms tingle with warmth and a very minimal burn that’ll recover once you set the cup down. Albeit the minor interference is nothing to you, so you continue to hold it and catching the way steam snakes out from the mouth in small wisps. You do this for a moment until you walk carefully through the door, knowing fully well how easily you could let the cup slip and watch the almost five-dollar beverage kiss the ground instead of your lips. Luckily, it’s a success.

Sort of. 

You make it about a yard from the building, safe from the horrors that may come from other passersby. Considering it’s almost noon, people should be coming out soon, so you decide to take the shortcut to your apartment. It’s nothing more than a simple turn adjacent to the shop, but the moment you’re about to round there’s a sudden flurry of black and a pressure that has blinding hot coffee spreading across your chest.

Without even a second thought, you stumble back and watch as the cup that was once in your hand tumble to the ground with some of its contents leaking out. However, this only registers for a moment until—

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” The man cries out, looking at you and the fallen cup in horror. “Are you alright?”

You feel your stomach lurch, but the pain on your chest is overpowering any other feeling that’s running through your head right now. You barely even register just how close the strange man is until his takes a step forward and covers the red cup with a running shoe. Then, that’s when your gaze snaps to his, narrowing only slightly as you actually hear him speak.

His voice is urgent, “Do you have any cold compresses? Aloe vera? Antibiotics?”

His gaze shifts to your chest and assesses the damage, because any normal day you might’ve crossed your arms over your chest but you can feel the scalding tingle. And the very composure you’ve kept up until now has faded as you snap, “What are you? A doctor?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, a snarky quip to chase him away or at least elicit some kind of guilt for the injustice of not only your fallen coffee but for your now ruined sweater. (Okay, and burning chest too.) But instead of an affected frown, the corners of his lips twitch just a little as he hands you his dark blue Hydroflask.

“Pre-med, actually.” You raise a brow at the 40-oz bottle in question, “The bottle’s insulated so it should help until you get proper treatment on it.”

As you accept the hefty container, you take the time to actually assess the man. He’s no older than yourself, possibly a student at the university as well considering it does have an exceptional medical program, and he’s really fuckin’ handsome. From the full lips to the mop of dark locks that sit atop his head in a messy disarray. God, even the loose-fitting running shorts that sit on his hips and the black tank that hugs his body, revealing a set of well-defined biceps taut with muscles. You probably wouldn’t have ever talked to him if this hadn’t happened, but the kindness he exerts makes his hulking appearance seem a lot less intimidating. In fact, he actually kind of reminds you of Bora’s friend, Hyunwoo.

“Oh… thank you,” you say, pressing it to your chest. The burning subsides as soon as the metal reaches past the cotton material of your sweater. Much of the heather grey etched in darker splotches from the coffee, doing very little to protect you from the small breeze that passes between the buildings.

He nods, still looking guilty as he asks, “So, do you have those things?” 

You try to remember if you even have a first-aid kit, only to be reminded that a first-aid kit was exactly what you needed to get the next time you went to the store. So, to his question, you sheepishly shake your head.

“I can buy them for you if you want?” He offers, patting his pocket before he lets out a small groan. “Well, I mean… I can go grab my wallet from my apartment and buy them for you if you want!”

“N-no, no,” you shake your head, feeling embarrassed enough. It isn’t like you don’t have money or anything, though you only brought enough for the coffee, you feel guilty taking his money for those things. Last you remembered some of the prices went up by a few dollars at the local drugstore. “I wouldn’t feel right doing that to you.”

His brows screw together, “But I spilled hot coffee on you?”

“Well… true, but we’re broke college students. And making you spend at least twenty-bucks on stuff over a five-dollar coffee seems pretty excessive to me,” you point out, stepping aside when someone walks around you two.  

He gives somewhat of a pout, making your heart do a little flip, “But—!”

You give a huff, effectively cutting him off, “You really feel bad huh?”

He nods, giving you a full view of his face as the tip of one of his shoes taps the concrete. “I mean of course I feel bad. Usually jogging days are a lot easier than this,” he breathes out a soft laugh. “And it really is my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going. At the least, if you won’t let me buy you the stuff you need to treat the burns, then I can give you some? I have some of the aloe vera at my apartment—it’s really close too.”

He really feels bad… you sigh inwardly while considering his offer. I guess it couldn’t hurt.

You decide to nod because he doesn’t seem so bad anyway. Not many people can even say ‘I’m sorry’ when they bump another person on the street, but here he is, doing that and even more than necessary. It’s admirable. And, well, he’s really freakin’ handsome.

“Sure, why not. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you say, extending a hand to him. You can’t help but laugh when it takes him a moment to register your hand, finding him even more adorable than you would’ve thought at first glance. He has a particular boyishness to him that shines through more than what could be perceived as intimidating.

He runs a hand across the back of his head, cheeks flushing as he answers, “Right, sorry. I’m Hoseok.”

He finally accepts your hand and even initiates the shake, appearing a little less nervous and a hell of a lot less stiff now that you don’t appear to be very angry with him. You suppose his act of kindness has just diluted the fire. And honestly, you can’t help but enjoy the warmth that emits from his palm to yours and how it seems to remain there even when you two pull away and settle at your sides.

There’s something undoubtedly comforting with him, from the way that he carries himself to even the way he treats others, you notice. Not only is he keen on helping others, he isn’t afraid to smile at the strangers too. Some of which return the gesture while others flush as they walk on by, not that you can blame them. He even takes the side closest to the street, carefully treading alongside you in case of the off-chance either of you have to maneuver out of the way for people rushing to lunch across the cityscape.

Though you barely notice at first, one of his hands carefully guides you by the small of your back toward a familiar path.

—

“Wait, how do you accidentally lock your friend in a room with a cadaver?” Your mouth drops open, walking over a puddle by Yoo’s Flower Emporium. Luckily, you don’t have to fight around any of the customers ebbing to and fro between the shop and the street. Not that you pay much mind when Hoseok lets loose a hearty laugh, eliciting a smile to inadvertently curl on your own lips.

“He’s the one who said he could handle being around them!”

You scoff out a laugh, shaking your head at him, “You’re shitting me right? That’s your excuse?”

“Okay, to be fair, he stole my DS,” he says, cheekbones prominent as you laugh even harder.

After a moment, you say, “You’re unbelievable.”

He sniffs indignantly, “I care about my gaming systems.”

“Did you get it back at least?” You receive a nod in response, a triumphant look etched across his visage in a really adorable way. Unabashed, you admire it. He doesn’t even notice either, he’s just talking about how he’s had that damn DS Lite (yes, a DS Lite) since middle school and it’s still running.

As the streets become less and less busy, the shopping centers fading out as the housing complexes begin to filter in, it strikes you how this is the way you walk home too. Though your building is a little farther from the rest of the clusters, you’re both still walking. Everything you had once passed by previously all flowing by in a flurry, like the constantly active bus system, a handful of bikers, and even some of the yard workers are still around too.

“Which one’s your apartment?” you ask as you both approach the last block of housing. There’s only two left, the first of which usually given to the medical students just because the university likes to cluster them together; however, to your surprise, he tells you his apartment complex is the cream-colored one by the peeling viridescent one, unmistakingly yours as well.

“Me too!” You remember hearing about a hot tenant on the fourth floor when you were in the lobby a few months ago but you hadn’t given it a thought since then. A part of you wonders if it’s Hoseok, considering just how attractive he is—well-built, pre-med, cute smile, funny—it just makes sense.

His mouth falls open, eyes lighting up as he swipes his ID card, “What floor?”

As he holds the door open, you answer, “Third, you?”

“Fourth,” he says with a small click of his tongue. “Small world huh?”

You nod, tone only slightly mocking, “Who knew I’d meet the notorious hot neighbor because he spilt hot coffee on me?”

“Hey, I said I was sorry!” He huffs as the elevator doors open with a small, high-toned ding! “Wait, hot?”

“I don’t see enough groveling, and,” You pause to press the button for four, replying indignantly, “Didn’t you know? You’ve been the talk of the building for a few months now.”

He shakes his head, letting loose a sheepish chuckle, “I honestly didn’t know.”

You raise your brows at him, only the small sounds from the elevator floating across the air for that brief moment, “You’re seriously telling me that you never once heard any of the other tenants tell you just how hot you are?”

He shakes his head.

“Not even Mrs. Lee?” Your mouth drops open when he shakes his head again, which you genuinely find surprising considering that woman’s always trying to befriend everyone in the building, “I’m actually appalled she hasn’t asked you to help her with her groceries yet. That’s how she wins everyone over.”

“Oh! Wait, you mean Anne?”

You blink, “Anne?” It’s one thing to know Mrs. Lee but it’s also another to actually be on first names basis with her. She’s friendly but not that friendly.

He nods, cracking a small smile as the floor comes to your stop, “She likes to stop by and give me ramen sometimes. I think we met the way you said though. She had groceries and she was struggling to get in.”

“God, she must love you,” you laugh, following him as he takes down a hallway similar to your own. The walls here are a faint steel blue, parts of it are peeling but there are a few photos of flowers and meadows to brighten the area up, with a table housing a succulent adjacent to a high, curved window. It gives the area a light and airy atmosphere, which is definitely unlike the uninviting one below. Between each of the doors, they’re all a plethora of different shades of white, which, to your relief, is still the same as yours. “Or are you two involved?”

He laughs, shaking his head relentlessly, “We’re just friends, I promise.”

He stops about a meter from the potted plant, unlocks the door, and lets you inside. It’s neat enough, nothing too immaculate like Kihyun’s, but still a hell of a lot better than Jooheon and Changkyun’s.

There’s a kitchen to your right with an unclutter isle, going forward is the living room with a grey couch and a television set equipped with a PS4, a shelf filled with videogames, movies, and little figurines of different characters that make you chuckle. Beside the couch is a hallway that houses the bedroom and bathroom, but instead of taking you with him, Hoseok tells you to make yourself at home while he goes to grab the first-aid kit so you do as such.

The wait isn’t long. He returns a few moments after you’ve set the Hydroflask down and he plops down on the cushions beside you. His knees bumps yours—not that either of you pay much mind anyway. He has four things out: a small bottle of aloe vera, cotton pads, a wet washcloth, and an even smaller bottle of antibiotics, though none of them are too familiar to you. Sure, you’ve had a few scrapes and cuts, but no burns until now.

“I’m guessing you don’t know how to treat burns then?” He asks, watching as your blank expression melts away when you meet his eyes. When you let out a nervous laugh, he nods empathetically, “It’s okay. I can help if you want.”

“Well, I’d like to hope you’d be able to do that,” you say, a small smile curling on the corners of your lips. “Anyway, I’m guessing the washcloth is first?”

He nods, hints of mockery tinging his words, “Maybe you don’t need me after all.”

“Do you see Pre-Med in my future?” Just as you take the washcloth for your chest, you stop short at the unsightly tawny stain atop the cream sweater. Your gaze flickers back to Hoseok, finding him with his gaze trained on the kitchen counter, with prominent cheekbones. A gentleman too? How nice.

You smile a little to yourself before setting the washcloth down and lifting your sweater. Considering it’s hardly been half an hour since you had coffee on it, the material is still pretty damp but just as you’re about to place it on your lap, Hoseok extends a hand out, “S’okay, I can hold it for you.”

You give it to him, taking a moment to examine the affected area.

The skin is still quite red but without the sign of major welts at least. It feels tender to the touch while a sting of sharp pain flares up even as you take your fingertips away. There were only ever a handful of time where you felt something akin to a burn—brief, almost non-existent hair curling burns, straighteners too, and that one time your mom thought knock-off oven mitts were okay—but this is just one of those times where it hurts because these aren’t flash burns either. In response, you take the washcloth and relish in the staunching of the phantom flames.

He then says, “I’m going to turn now. I didn’t want to catch you off-guard or anything, but after a few minutes of this, I’ll apply the antibiotics, okay?”

You nod as soon as his eyes meet yours, relishing in those few minutes. Though by the end of it, you’re even more glad to be rid of the lukewarm washcloth. Thin, white cream coats the fluffy pad as Hoseok holds it toward you, his soft voice explains, “Now I’m going to apply the antibiotic.”

It feels like everything happens in slow motion. The warmth of his fingertips are an immediate contrast on your skin. They keep you steady as he has a slightly firmer grip on your bare shoulder, while his other with the pad gently soothes the medicine across the deeply pinkened flesh. His gaze flickers to yours, unwittingly catching you as your eyes shut with relief. Unlike the makeshift cold compress and the actual cold compress, this is significantly times better.

He gulps, almost inaudibly, but you pretend not to notice. You know it should be embarrassing considering everything that has happened, but unlike most people, you find this sort of entertaining. You never would’ve imagined meeting someone in such a way, much less coming back to their apartment for an impromptu patch-up. But with him and given how well you’ve been getting along, it’s not so bad.

“Y’know,” He hums an affirmation, a soft sound that opens your eyes and elicits a soft smile of your own, “you never did answer my question.”

He blinks, slowing down the dabbing on your chest to meet your eyes, “What?”

“Do you see Pre-Med in my future?” you giggle, earning a grin in response. He gives a soft nod just as the fingertips of his free hand brush away stray strands of your hair. They don’t stay put as much as they should, but he tucks them behind your ear for you.

You can feel our heart hammering, and from the pink dusting across his cheeks, it appears that his might be too.

“Perhaps,” he replies with a small scrunch of his nose, the corners of his eyes crinkle ever-so-slightly. “You might be able to one-up me if you’re lucky.”

You nod, watching as his bashfulness sheds away for this brief moment, “So, try to keep your hair from the area. You’ll want to let it dry before we put the Aloe Vera.”

“Alright, so no sweater until then I’m guessing?” When he nods, he glances down at the still damp sweater on his lap before meeting your eyes apologetically. “What?”

“Well, I’m sorry about your sweater, again,” he tries once again. You feel a little bad for guilt-tripping him earlier, especially with that small pout on his face.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I mean I think it’s enough that you’re patching me up…”

“You didn’t that say earlier,” he points out, still sort of pouting. There are hints of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but you can’t even pretend that you’re mad. “Seriously, though. I do feel bad, and I’m more than happy to make it up to you in any way that I can.”

You raise a brow at him, feeling an inkling of bravery, “How so?”

That catches him off guard.

Hoseok’s hickory hues now run over your visage, looking for a clue at what you may be hinting at. Although you didn’t do it intentionally, you truly wouldn’t mind any sort *of compensation from him. Whatever comes just feels right, and you may not know what that is exactly, you’re still more than willing to let it happen. Alternatively, he seems to dig you and he’s hot, so a make-up hook-up is definitely not out of the equation.

“Well, I could… start off by grabbing you a T-shirt if you don’t—um—feel comfortable in just your bra.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip, even his Adam’s apple quivers ever-so-slightly, “Or I could—maybe—buy you another coffee sometime too.”

“Are you asking me out?” you ask, tilting your head at him. He manages a small nod, which only seems to deepen your own smile. “Of course, I’d love that. You can even share your trade secrets at doctoring.”

He laughs, shaking his head at you. He turns his attention back to your chest, taking his thumb to lightly tap the area before he grabs the Aloe Vera. “It dries pretty fast, so I can let you apply this if you want?”

You think for a moment, wondering if you should let him do it or just do it yourself, but ultimately, you tell him, “Can you?”

“A-alright,” he nods, taking the now opened tip of the nozzle to his fingers. He’s slow to put it on your chest, but when his gaze flickers upward to see if your eyes are shut, he comes to find them very much open. But neither of you seem to move, let alone release much of a breath as he draws concentric circles across your chest. It relinquishes a warmth so haunting, you can feel it even as they come to a dying drawl.

His free hand rises from its spot on his lap, swiftly catching the stray hairs now falling back toward the front of your shoulder. But as he tucks them behind your ear, his hand remains at the side of your face and ignites a fluttering in your chest, because you half-expected this outcome and half-expected somewhat of a friendship now that you and him finally acquainted yourselves with one another. It’s always been one way or another with you, though with most chance encounters, these passersby become strangers in no time—nothing more than a memory pressed firmly into the back of your mind.

Unlike them, you find yourself at ease with any of the outcomes that may befall you two. And as you lean into his touch, your hands moving forth as his own body begins to move toward you, you let yourself fall into him. The hand on your profile poises your head upward, engaging in this still moment as both of your eyes shut and your lips meet in a chaste manner.

Of course, it’s only a peck. But you want to keep chasing for more once you start. It’s not pure magic or really anything out of the range of expectation; however, it’s addictive. The very circumstance entice you—how this is something straight out of a drama with how you two managed to meet, how he took you back to his apartment for a treatment, and how you two have managed to come together in such a short amount of time. And you like that. You like how his hand feels half-entwined in your hair and half-caressing your too-warm cheeks. Even his hand still slick with the aloe feels nice on your bare hip.

This feels like it goes on for ages, just kissing one another with the mild taste of mint and what you could decipher as hot chocolate, until you both pull away to breathe. His chest heaves and his lips are an even deeper shade of scarlet. He’s unlike many boys, far too sweet and too considerate, and a lot funnier than most people might pick up on. And, it’s still a mild shock to you that this is happening, that out of all days to lose your chance at your favorite time of the year, you meet someone like him.

“Is this how you wanted to make me feel better?” You ask, feeling your heart still pounding in your chest.

His cheeks go as red as his lips before he shakes his head vigorously, “I—uh—I—well—I mean… it wasn’t what I intended.”

You laugh, moving closer to him and giving his thigh a pat. Your hand remains there as you reply, “S’okay.  It’s half-backwards since you asked me out before this, but… I don’t mind this either.” 

His cheeks do not shy away from deepening, but you adore the way it looks on him. He mumbles something that sounds like an “Okay.”

“So,” you raise a brow at him. “How will you make it up to me?”

“W-well, how about we take this back to the bedroom?” He asks, taking your hand from his leg and entwining his fingers in yours after you nod. He gives your hand a squeeze, with elation overflowing from both of you in more ways than either of you could’ve expected.

His bedroom is neat with hints of navy blue and white on the full-sized bed. The cream-colored curtains are only open a smidgen, enough not to give you too much worry of being seen, while the textbooks and notebooks scattered across his desk are nothing short of neatly stacked. The entire floor space is open and free of any clothing, and you catch a sight of a cute Eevee on the corner of the bed.

Even when he pulls off his T-shirt, he places it on the back of his chair and the running shorts as well. You, of course, shimmy out of your leggings and fold them as neatly as you can before placing them on top of his things.

“Get on the bed,” he says when you turn to look for him. He’s by the bedside table, probably looking for a condom considering it’s just a thing to have those things somewhere in case situations like these arise.  

You oblige him with a nod, the warmth between your legs only growing as you wait in anticipation for whatever else he has planned.

He climbs onto the bed and hovers over you with that small, shy smile of his. His cheeks are burning as he asks, “This is okay, right?”

You nod again, this time placing your hand at the back of his head and pulling him down for another kiss. Instead of the shy one like before, you take the lead and deepen it, pressing in more fervor until you both have to break away for another round of heavy breathing. When he moves closer, he does not press his bare chest to yours, though he does part your legs with a thick thigh in the process. His plush lips break away to his kiss way down, taking precious time to nip at your neck with care unlike the others before him.

As he kisses over the places that can’t be touched, your body acts on its own accord the closer he gets to your aching core. It’s been too long, it feels like. Burning for someone so suddenly. Hoseok is hardly even an acquaintance, and yet here you are, involuntarily quivering at the hips because of his meager pace.

Even from the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath, practically the curvature of his lips a hairsbreadth from your own. He takes his time shimmying the black cotton material before you kick them off without a second thought, because now you’re bare before him and he looks absolutely ready.

“I don’t think I’ll fuck you today,” he murmurs, getting onto his forearms. They’re tucked on the the sides of your lips with full, open access to your awaiting core. “But we can save that for next time, right?”

He looks up at you as if waiting for an answer that has your cheeks burning because that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. “Next time?”

“Would you like that?” He winks, “Maybe even after our coffee date.”

You adjust yourself to your forearms, putting most of your upper body weight onto your elbows so you have a better vantage point for the scene unfolding before you. Hoseok kisses the inside of thighs, the bare places that your undergarments once covered, literally everywhere else but where you want to feel the plush comfort of his lips.

“I’m waiting,” he says against the corner of your slit. “What do you say?”

You didn’t expect him to be so serious, but it doesn’t stop you from nodding.

“I need to hear you,” he says, sending a slight brush of air against the growing discomfort in your legs. “Tell me you want it.”

You want to feel him. You want to know what his lips feel like on your clit, how the pads of his fingers will create pretty patterns against the pink flesh in ways that you’ve only dreamt of.

“I do,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to reach over and push his face into your folds and feel his tongue dance around the bundle of nerves. “I want you and that date.”

He grins at you, planting a strategically placed kissed right on the fold over your clit and only tightening the ever-growing knot in the pit of your stomach.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He runs his hands up and down your thighs, relishing in how the gooseflesh rise and admiring your bare flesh once more. Before he starts, he watches as you shimmy out of your bra, tossing it aside with a careless flick and looking back at him with something akin to innocence.

He gives a sighed laughter that earns a smile of your own. Returning back to his original position with his lips only a hairsbreadth from your folds, he uses his hands to part them and give the entire expanse a languid swipe of his tongue. He puts extra pressure on your clit, using his thumb to create concentric circles of pleasures in a particular rhythm that disrupts the pattern of your breathing. 

He takes this as a sign to continue his ministrations, using his other hand to massage the area around your entrance as well. You mutter an obscenity when he reaches a particular tempo against your clit, doubling that with the subtle entrance of his fingers inside you. He switches his thumb for his lips, suckling at your clit gently at first and then a little harsher when you quiver beneath him once again.

He builds up a rhythm in between your legs, never once ceasing once your breathing becomes semi-coherent moans. There’s a mixture of his name and other things that you can’t even process right now, but he’s inducing a haze across the forefronts of your mind. It blankets everything else as his thumb is back on your clit to an even faster tempo, his tongue replacing where his fingers had been inside you. 

You can feel your thighs fluttering on their own accord, only then do you feel his tongue darting in and out of you as your high is on the tip of his fingers. The very knot in your stomach is slowly coming undone though his pace does not cease in the slightest.

Euphoria hits you right then.

The waves of engulfing you like the dense waters of seawater, eliciting shudders all across your body. Even the strength in your arms gives out, and once your head hits his pillow, your back arches and his name parts your lips in a half-moan and half-whisper. All of which punctuated with a guttural groan and a simple word—”Fuck.”

Hoseok moves off your core, moving up beside you and collapsing right beside you. His warmth reaching the right side of your body, while he wipes off the excess of your release from the corners of his lip.

“Wow…” you mutter under your breath, craning your head to look at him. “That was…”

“Better than that latte?” He turns to look at you with upturned brows, “By the way, I—I’m—”

“—yes,” you interrupt him by leaning over to press your lips to his without any other implications other than the fact that you genuinely found this experience enjoyable. Even if it wasn’t what you expected out of your day off, you can’t say this was the worst of any of the scenarios that could’ve happened—if anything, it exceeded anything else you could’ve done. “Now stop apologizing.”

His eyes glaze over with understanding, giving you a small nod in response.

“Just try not to spill coffee on me on our date, okay?”

He presses his head flat against the pillow, letting out a squeaky laugh, “Alright, I’ll try not to…”

Looking down his chest, you catch the tent in the navy blue boxers, “Need help with that?”

He’s shaking his head when he meets your eyes, a half-smile curled on his lips, “Next time. This was about you.”

“What a good doctor you are,” you laugh, rising from your spot. “Now where’s your bathroom?”

“First door on your left,” he answers, rising from his spot and stripping the bed of its comforter. “As your good doctor, I recommend you come back for proper rest when you’re done.”

Returning as quickly as you left, you shrug on your panties and a T-shirt left at the foot of the bed. There’s a dog-eared corner that becomes you forth, his arms soon wrapping around you.

“Hey,” he whispers to you. “Ask me how much I like you.”

You raise a brow at him once you’ve turned yourself to face him, “How much do you like me, Hoseok?”

He leans in close, nose brushing against yours, “A whole latte…”

Laughter gets exchanged between the two of you, before fatigue soon washes over the two of you with only minutes in between but it’s okay. It’s warm and nice in his arms. And although it’s definitely not how you would’ve spent the first day of coffee lovers heaven, you actually don’t mind it one bit.

#mxnetwork #mxwriters #shin hoseok scenarios #wonho scenarios #wonho au #wonho fluff #wonho smut #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfic #monsta x smut #monsta x fluff #wonho x reader #emswriting #october spoops 2017

[putthison]

Five Suggestions on How to Dress For Winter

Fall and winter are my favorite seasons for clothes. Few things feel better against the skin than wool flannel trousers and brushed cotton shirts; few things make you feel braced for the world like a tweed sport coat. Casualwear this time of year also tends to be more interesting -- parkas, leather jackets, and chore coats, sometimes layered in unexpected ways. There are simply more ways to look good this time of year than in the spring and summer months. 

One of the great things about style this time of year is how affordable everything can be if you’re a smart shopper. You can take the workwear route by pairing raw denim jeans with cotton sweatshirts, military liners, and army-surplus jackets -- each of which can be had for under $75. For something slightly dressier, vintage pea coats and duffle coats can be bought at local thrifts for no more than $150. 

Alternatively, you can invest in just a few pieces -- a couple of good coats, a nice sweater, and some great shoes -- and use those to carry you through the season. Whereas shirts and pants have to be cycled through daily in the summer, you can use one or two coats in the winter without anyone raising an eyebrow. If you get classic pieces, you can build a wardrobe slowly -- a coat purchased one year, a pair of good shoes the next -- which allows you to spread the cost. 

Some suggestions on how to dress your best for winter, whether you like classic tailoring or something more casual:

1. Buy Good Outerwear: It’s worth stretching your wallet a little to get the best outerwear you can afford. If you splurge a little more, you can often get away with spending little on everything else.  

For this time of year, I really like long topcoats. Single breasted, heavy wool, with a length that ends around your knees. Long coats are a bit trendy at the moment, showing up more on runways than they did just three years ago, but they’re also a genuine classic. You can layer one over a suit or sport coat, or dress it down with a chunky sweater and some jeans. The contrast between classic tailoring and casualwear in this case often makes for a good effect. 

2. Accessorize with a Scarf: Scarves add a bit of dash to an outfit. They lend color, help frame your face, and add a bit of visual interest down the front of your chest. Aim for something that’s at least 64″ long, so you have enough material to tie the scarf in different ways, and find a color that complements your wardrobe (I like mid-gray, navy, and burgundy). Merino wool and cashmere will be your softest and warmest options; lambswool can be itchy unless it’s blended with angora; and acrylics should just be avoided. 

3. Get Textured Knitwear: Smooth merino knits can be great for layering underneath sport coats, but textured knitwear is often more striking and visually interesting. You can get them as lofty lambswool Shetlands, cabled Arans, flecked Donegals, or brightly colored Fair Isles (the last is more patterned than textured, but you get the idea). Don’t be afraid of going beyond the classics with your knits -- I find those are often the ones I reach for most. 

4. Find Bad Weather Boots: It’s hard to look well dressed without good shoes, but also hard to find shoes this time of year that can stand up to the weather. Wellingtons, LL Bean boots, and even heavier work boots can be great for casual options. For something dressier, try pebble-grained chukkas or wingtips with a storm welt. They’ll require a bit more upkeep -- polishing, brushing, and the occasional wipe down with a diluted white vinegar to treat salt stains -- but they’ll also look terrific with tailored clothing. 

5. Flip Up the Collar: This is probably the easiest way to make any winter outfit look better. Not all coats are designed in a way that allows the collar to be worn up -- a lot depends on the coat’s material and how the collar has been cut. That said, try popping the back and see how the front splays. A flipped collar can be a great way to keep out the wind, frame your face, and generally make an outfit look more stylish. 

#Fall #Winter