Yes, they’ve done it again. Japanese brand Visvim delivers two exclusive down jackets for the season with exclusive being the word of order here - the patchwork on each jacket is unique and differs from one to the next. Due to the vintage fabrics reminiscent of bandanas, blankets and African prints, no jacket is the same, adding a whole new meaning to the uniqueness Visvim is known for.
Summary: A University AU. You have been studying in the library all weekend, although the sexy librarian has been distracting you. Turns out you’ve been a bit of distraction for him also. Warnings: Explicit (+18) smut, public sex, no condom & oral. Also swearing
University was hard and stressful but you loved every second of it. You had made friends with all the History majors, your dorm roommate was hilarious and the campus coffee pop-up stand was a lifesaver, literally. University was everything you expected to be and more, you did think it would be more partying at 4 am but you did go to the occasional one or two at the weekend.
Except for this weekend. This weekend is spent in the library on campus, researching medicine in the 18th century. You had been arriving as soon as the doors opened and staying to just before closing time.
Also, you couldn’t lie the man running the library this weekend was hot. When you walked in on Saturday morning, he was perched behind the oak desk with a book, glasses perched on his nose and long hair tied back into a bun. White button up shirt tucked into blue denim jeans. He was intimidatingly handsome, rugged with the unshaven face but adorable in the sense his mouth moved as he read; muttering the words to himself.
You had, admittedly, been slightly creepy with the staring when reading about history became boring. He was just so intriguing to you. You hadn’t seen him work here through the week, you hadn’t seen him around campus either, he was an enigma to you. You wanted to know more but yet, you didn’t want to go up and just talk to him. So, you kept to sneakily peeking over the mountain of books at him.
When you walked in on Sunday morning it was dead. Everyone had gone out partying Saturday night, leaving the library to be empty on Sunday as they all nursed their hangovers. He was there, sat silently behind the desk, till he glanced up at the door opening and smiled at you. Pride and Prejudice perched in his right hand.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m really loving these character and this series. Thank you for your wonderful responses. A special thank you to the people who looked this over for me.
This is unbetaed, all mistakes are my own
***THE TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED**
“Your turn,” Dean hands you the shovel, “I dug the last one.”
“Oh come on Dean,” Sam protests, “she’s had more than a month off, she-”
“She’s standing right here,” you look pointedly at Sam, taking the shovel from Dean, “I got this, you boys just stand there and look pretty.”
Sam rolls his eyes, Dean chuckles, “Do you remember how to do this sweetheart, it’s been awhile.”
“Shut up, even rusty I can dig a grave twice as fast as you,” you can’t help but smile, pushing the point into the ground, taking out the first shovel full of dirt.
“Do you want me to time you?”
You flip him off, continuing to dig as they talk for a bit, discussing the corpse that in a matter of time you will be salting and burning. After about ten inches, another shovel hits the hard ground a few feet from yours and you look up to see Dean there, “You were moving too slow.”
Magnus Bane’s S2 Wardrobe: a Study | Coats & Jackets (part 1) ↳ While a lot of his coats and jackets are on the grittier side with chunky chains and studs, Magnus also has a repertoire of softer garments; his several black velvet jackets are a literal example of this. In his collection there’s also a number of toned down jackets without much embellishment or flair to them. These are usually worn to make other statement pieces pop; like a simple black jacket worn with a boldly colored/patterned shirt, or a bundle of silver necklaces that stand out against an otherwise black outfit. The red thread that weaves through all his outerwear is the dark color palette that mostly consists of dark blue and black. The exception to the rule is the black jacket with a red pattern, which was appropriately worn during the body switch with Valentine and can be interpreted as a visual cue that something is wrong.
AU where Harry randomly calls home to ask Draco about his day and he interrupts him at every end of a sentence with an “I love you, you know that right?” And Draco keeps rolling his eyes because sappy Potter just can’t stop being so extra. Draco later ends the call because he has to go back to his paperwork and Harry asks him to take care.
It’s 3AM and Harry still isn’t home. Draco gets another phone call from him and he yells at the phone the moment he answers because “Fuck Potter, I’m worried sick where the fuck are you??” But it’s not Potter, it’s Kingsley.
It’s 4AM when Draco arrives at the ministry and Kingsley tells him the news.
5AM and Draco is clinging to Harry’s jacket, breaking down in Pansy’s arms because “Fuck you, Potter why didn’t you tell me.”
It was 4 in the afternoon when Harry had been badly injured and rushed to St. Mungo’s, and all he kept asking for was his phone because he knew he wasn’t gonna make it, and the last thing he wanted to hear was Draco’s voice.
I just wanna say like thank you all so much for the wonderful support on this story, i’m seriously gonna miss writing it SO MUCH! It’s crazy to believe i’m already done, but I mean, I did upload like everyday lol. Anyway, thank you all again so much.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.
Pairing:Richie x Reader, and Loser’s Club x Reader, also slight Stan x Reader
Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones.
“It’s coming back now.” Stan explained, nodding at his friends who surrounded him. The group was silent, standing around Stan, battered by what had just happened in the sewers but happy that it was over and their friend was standing before them alive. “Only bits and pieces, but I remember IT just suddenly being there and that’s it. Then I woke up with you guys around.”
Silence echoed Stan’s words, as he slowly let his eyes move around the people surrounding him; hesitant to ask what was on his mind. “What happened?” It was obvious what had happened. IT had come back, just like you’d tried to tell him but Stan had been too stupid, too in-denial to listen, that’s how he found himself here. But, it was almost like there was more; like the day and a bit he’d been gone more had happened then he could ever imagine.
“Y/N t-told us about how IT had taken you.” Bill finally answered, his eyes landing on you for a split second before gazing back at Stan. “She said s-she found the words “W-WHERE’S STAN?” written on h-her ceiling in blood. A-After that, w-we came here to find you.”
As Bill explained, Stan’s eyes fell on you as you looked to the ground. The last time you’d spoken, he’d left you just standing there after practically begging for help. No part of you was mad, but you could tell he felt guilty, just by his gaze. And it didn’t help that he’d bee wrong, that’d just been proven after what’d happened.
“And um- Henry’s dead.” It wasn’t needed, but you felt like you had to say it. Henry was terrible to you but you’d still killed someone. You didn’t know what would happen, though you knew none of them would ever say anything but you’d physically murdered someone; didn’t matter if he was an asshat half of the time. “So there’s that.”
Richie noticed your discomfort, and could only imagine what you must be thinking. Leaning over, he grabbed your hand; ignoring the looks he received from the others. “You did what you had to do.”
“Richie’s right, Y/N.” Eddie interrupted you, turning to look at you with a sincere gaze. “Henry would’ve killed you if you hadn’t done what you did. He deserved it.” Richie squeezed your hand as you reluctantly nodded, giving a small smile his way.
“But, we’re glad you’re okay, Stan.” Beverly smiled, her blue eyes brighter than before. Despite the fact that you’d all just come from a fight with a murderous clown and quite literally from a trip in the sewers, everyones faces seemed a whole lot brighter. Even you yourself, you felt less empty than you’d felt for so long. The world seemed brighter and a lot more colourful, rather than the dull black and white you’d been seeing it in for the past four years.
“Yeah.” Mike agreed, nodding with a smile on his face.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.
Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see) Stan x Reader and slight Richie x Reader
Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones, mentions of sex, and sexual abuse (mild)
It was only five in the evening, yet the sun was setting and the sky was black instead of a peaceful blue hue. Being the month of January, it made the days shorter and the nights longer, something of which you hated. Night was the worst, it reminded you of all the worst things. The dark was a treacherous thing and you despised it.
But yet, as you ran, one foot in front of the other in the quickest motion you could muster, no part of you seemed to care. For the past few days, hell for the past month, you’d been trying to deny what you knew you saw. Tried to tell yourself it was only your nightmares, bleeding into the day and your mind playing tricks on yourself. The images, the memories and the mis-haps, you’d tried to ignore it.
But tonight you were sure, sure that it was IT. It had to be…
When you’d run out of the room and out of the school, you weren’t exactly sure where your feet were leading you. Who could you tell? Who could you tell that wouldn’t think you were a complete mental idiot? Certainly not Henry or any of his friends, and your mother wasn’t an option.
The option was quite clear, and you knew it deep down that it was the right one. But you didn’t know what they’d think, any of them. They’d left you the minute IT was no longer a threat, and from what you’d seen no one even seemed to remember that clown that taunted you all. Wouldn’t they think you were insane as well? The thought pained you, made you feel isolated in your fear… but you reminded yourself that they had been there. You remembered it clearly, they saw IT then, so why couldn’t they now?
You had to tell someone… but your options were limited. Bill? Beverly? You didn’t even know where they were nowadays. Ben? No… MIke? No. Stan? Hadn’t spoken one word to him in months. That only left Eddie and Richie… neither of which you wanted to confront, after the whole episode in the hall. Eddie seemed like the better option, seeing as Richie hated you from what you’d seen… but you knew his mother and knew he’d be home by now. You weren’t getting into that house no matter how hard you tried.
That only left Richie… and you knew exactly where he’d be.
My style is a little bit eclectic; it’s more of a modern look. I like clean lines and structural elements, anywhere from mid-rise skinny jeans to dressy. I hate skirts so much. Ease of wearing is ideal for me, sort of like more masculine, clean; I don’t tend to wear a terrible lot of very feminine things. I think I posted [an Instagram picture] the other day in a floral midi dress with a denim jacket over the top and that is about as girly as I get. Nothing with lace or sequins or sparkles or ruffles or none of that. None of that. More into body con or jeans, and like a button-down, leather jacket.
Prompt: The reader isn’t ready to confront Peter after all that happened the night before. However, the task of avoidance becomes increasingly more difficult as the day progresses. Having a fallout with your best friend is the worst.
Word Count: 3,286
A/N: So I rewrote this part at least six times before begrudgingly deciding to post this version. I kept writing and deleting every version before this one because I didn’t like any of them. I don’t even really like this version, but I figured I made you guys wait long enough for a part two, and this was probably the best I was going to write. I’m sorry for any grammatical errors. I hope you can at least somewhat enjoy this poorly written imagi.
You woke up to the sound of your alarm. As you slowly gained consciousness, the obnoxious noise echoed louder in your ears. You groaned to yourself and fumbled around for the snooze button. Finally getting the blasted thing to shut up, you groggily turned so that you could see the time. It was half past six in the morning. School started in one hour. You begrudgingly rolled (quite literally) out of bed and stumbled as you stood up. You stretched your arms above you head before yawning for what seemed like the longest time. Jeez, you were tired. Why were you so tired? Then it hit you.
Dinner. Relatives. Boyfriend. Peter.
Closing your eyes, your entire body shifted as the memories from last night flooded your mind. You suddenly had the very strong urge to retreat back under your covers and never face the world again. You shook you head. Hiding wouldn’t help anyone. You huffed out a frustrated breath before deciding to head to the kitchen. Maybe a quick breakfast would lighten your spirits. You didn’t get very far though. Not even five steps in, your foot fell on top of a material that most definitely was not hardwood floors. You looked down to find that you had stepped on what looked to be a men’s blazer. You picked the jacket up and stared at it. It was Peter’s jacket. The one he gave you last night before you told him to leave. Before you had your emotional breakdown. Before you had ruined everything. You stared at the piece of clothing in your hands. Tears were already starting to form in your eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself look away. It was all so fresh in your mind.