lol this looked better without any coloring so i left it that way~

Highway (Part 7)

Originally posted by misunderstood-adventures

Summary: There’s a charming man that enters the diner like he owns the place, like he owns the town. And when he’s calling you babydoll, with a devilish smirk on his face and a twinkle of silver in his baby blues, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from falling for the infamous Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Wordcount: 2,923

A/N: lol poor bucky dude

Part 1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Masterlist


The disappearance of Bucky Barnes took more of a toll on you than you’d expected.

You would’ve liked to say that it really didn’t matter all that much because it really shouldn’t have. You knew nothing more than his name and his address and the exact depth of his voice, the exact color of his eyes and brightness of his boyish grins. 

It’s been nearly two weeks without a word from the man that you’d quickly formed a bond with. 

You fancied your pride over desperation, however, so you responded to his radio silence with that of your own. You’d done so with a frown on your face and a yearning in your chest that begged you to search for him. Especially so after his most recent text, one that he’d sent you the night he took you out for a ride; it had been an oddly comforting text message. But then he never responded to your morning text. And then your afternoon text. And then one more after that.

And then you’d surmised that maybe he’d gotten bored with you.

Keep reading

This question’s been sitting in my askbox for WEEKS now, apologies for taking so long to respond to this!

To preface this post it’s important to note: I’m not a professional, and don’t have professional experience.  All thoughts are based on personal opinion, preference, and prior experience designing characters for personal projects!

Click the jump for a big post with me rambling about character designs I do and don’t like, and why I do/don’t like them!

Keep reading

6

SIMS NO FILTER CHALLENGE

Ayyeee.. I wasn’t really tagged but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Challenge by @butterfly-tattoo 

Rules: Take a picture of the sim that’s normally associated with your blog (your legacy founder/lead character in your story etc.), now take away all their cc (except their hair, eyebrows, and skin color), then do a before and after picture.

I’m tagging @plumb-barb, @simtasia, @simgallery@touchmypixels, @cakenoodles​, @girl-just-simming-around​, @fanaskher​, @buckleysims​, @obsimmian​, @pixelddump​, @freckled-pixels​, @lanyxie​, @narusasu-simblr​, @gohliath​, @itsniiaa-simblr 

Notes: I did a girls edition (or at least the more relevant girls that I have). Fenix looks like god either way and tbh for the sake of this I gave her a little more makeup than usual because I normally don’t have her wear lipstick. With Ani I’m very happy I did this because I didn’t realize how much I actually LOVE her with a complete bare face. She looks so different and kind of like this one girl I wanted to model her after.. so she might just wear some tiny lashes from now on and call it a day because I’m into it. And finally there’s Jaide.. she wears the most in game makeup because I spent the least amount of time on her custom skin. I wish I could get her lips the same texture as the one she wears in game.. also her eyes look so different without eyeshadow lol.

P.S. If you did this already then please disregard.. and if I didn’t tag you it’s because I already seen you do it ^_^

The Matchmakers - Part 10

A drabble series I’m working on with @setthestarsxnfire - we wrote this one together! Another long one so more under the cut!

ZEN: Would you just shut up?

Jumin Han: I don’t see why I should.

ZEN: No one cares about your stupid cat.
ZEN: I’m sick of hearing about you and that thing.

Jumin Han: Elizabeth the third is not a thing.
Jumin Han: She’s my companion.
Jumin Han: At least I’m not complaining to everyone about my non-existent love life, like a brat I know.

V: Jumin…

Jumin Han: I, however, do hope that you can find someone who can tolerate your bullshit.
Jumin Han: So that you can disappear from this chat and bother them instead.
Jumin Han: Let’s be honest, people only care about your looks.

Yoosung★: omg

ZEN: Oh, yeah?

MC: Guys

ZEN: Well, I hope you find someone in your life
ZEN: Who’s not in it for the money

Jaehee Kang: O.O

ZEN: But that’s never going to happen.
ZEN: You only care about money and that stupid cat.

Jumin Han: Fuck off, Zen.

ZEN: With pleasure.
ZEN: I feel sick just being in the same chatroom as you.

707: Holy shit

Jumin Han: The feeling is mutual, I have tolerated a brat for too long.

ZEN: Fuck you, jerk.

- Zen has logged off -
- Jumin Han has logged off -

Saeran: What the fuck.

Yoosung★: TnT Why are they fighting now? Did something happen in the photo shoot yesterday?!

MC: No!
MC: Or at least, not while we were in the room.

Jaehee Kang: Something must has happened when we were gone, MC…

V: And it was probably quite harsh to get them to carry the fight all over here.

707: Cat mom and prince charming…
707: T_T My otp orz

Jaehee Kang: Let’s discuss this in private.

***

Keep reading

Aura Reading (Post 3): Aura Colors and Practicing on Humans (break Down)(Very Long Post.. WORTH IT)


The Point of this Post is to concentrate on what we can easily see with our eyes… If we let it ;)

Okay so now that you can SEE auras, What do they mean?

FIRST you should learn “Auric Pairs" 

In my last post, you notice that real colors are surrounded with Auras of different colors. These auric colors are not random.

Here is a list of Auric Pairs of colors for all clean colors of the rainbow (monochromatic colors).

red gives turquoise aura, turquoise gives red aura
orange gives blue aura, blue gives orange aura
yellow gives violet aura, violet gives yellow aura
green gives pink aura, pink gives green aura

The above table applies also to intermediate colors, for example yellow-green color gives a pink-violet aura.

Note: The above Auric pairs are DIFFERENT than complementary color pairs, "color wheels” and “color spaces” promoted by the science and Art on Earth. Every child can confirm that auric pairs listed above are true (their eyes have not been trained to “ignore” things the way ours have)

Looking at Nature will show many Auric Pairs. Take any red colored bird and you’ll notice that it will have turquoise body parts too. The same applies to blue/orange, yellow/violet and pink/green combinations, not only in birds, but in fish, butterflies, flowers etc.. - anything which is vividly coloured by Nature.
Occasionally you will see “the next best” color instead of a perfect auric match. Have you noticed that MOST of flowers on Earth that grow on trees and are surrounded by GREEN leaves are either violet, pink(purple) or red? Auric Pairs in Nature are very stimulating, and frequently induce an overwhelming feeling of beauty and happiness. :) Isn’t that beautiful?

You need to memorize and know well the above Auric Pairs.
Why?
Because if you see a pink Aura around someone in a bright green dress, there is a strong possibility that you see the “Aura” of a dress, not of a person.

How to see and READ the AURA: Part 3

External image

Seeing the Aura

This exercise is designed to see Aura for the first time and/or practice seeing Auras. Choosing good conditions is important: not only you see the Aura better, but also to help you be confident about what you see.

  1. Situate the person in front of a very softly illuminated PLAIN WHITE background. (A colored background will change Aura colors, so you need additional knowledge about combining colors. Some combinations of background and Aura colors may cause misinterpretation problems.)
  2. Choose ONE SPOT to look at. The middle of the forehead is VERY GOOD. This is a location of so called Brow Chakra or the Third Eye. In some cultures (India) they put a mark on a forehead. Such a mark in ancient times could mean the invitation to look and see the Aura.
  3. Look at this spot for 30 to 60 seconds or longer
  4. After 30 seconds analyze surroundings with your peripheral vision, while still looking at the same spot. Continuing the concentration is most important. Resist temptation to look around. 
  5. You should see that the background nearby the person is brighter and has a DIFFERENT color than the background further away.
  6. It looks like a sort of “glow” around their Head/Neck/Shoulders
  7. This is your own perception of the Aura. The longer you concentrate, the better you will see it.

Remember, concentration on one spot increases your sensitivity by accumulating the effect of the Aura vibration reaching your eyes.

Taking a “Mental Snapshot” of an Aura.

  1. After concentrating long enough to see the aura, close your eyes.
  2. For a second or two you will see the Aura ONLY. Be prepared.
  3. You have only one second or two until your photosensitive cells will stop vibrating and sending visual sensations to the brain. And if you miss is, you have to start concentrating again.

Try to experiment how fast or slow you should close your eyes.

Observing auras of other people

The best is to look directly at someone’s brow chakra (third eye or wisdom eye, which is located slightly above the nose, between eyes) and try to achieve the state of mind similar to the concentration technique described above for at least 30-60 seconds.

Advanced Readings: You can looking at throat and heart chakras with similar results. However, if you’re concentrating on someone’s chest (especially women lol) it looks prettty creepy. Like REALLY creepy.
When you look into someone’s brow chakra, you can actually continue conversation, without looking like a creeper. Yaaayyyy

Again, VERY softly illuminated background, with no shadows is best. With practice, any EVENLY illuminated background (such as a blue sky for example) will work alright.

———————————————————-

How to see your own Aura

Stand about 1.5 m in front of a good size mirror. In the beginning it is best if the background behind you is plain white and there are no shadows. Illumination should be VERY soft and uniform not bright. Follow instructions above for seeing Auras.

PRACTICE for at least 10-15 minutes each day to increase your sensitivity and develop Auric sight. Remember that practice is required to develop Auric sight.

Auric sight and after-images 

You Just learned how to pay attention to what your eyes are capable of!

Light sensors in our eyes (Red Green and Blue) are vibration sensors which are highly non-linear and they have memory. The consequence of memory is that they can oscillate for up to several seconds after the visual stimulation has been discontinued.

Science Time: This memory of visual stimulation is frequently perceived as Afterimage. Afterimages have a precisely the same shape as original images. Afterimage of an object surrounded by its Aura is larger than the original image. The increase in such afterimage is due to the vibration of an Aura and actually represents a “snapshot” of an Aura. It is VERY IMPORTANT to focus on one spot when watching the Aura and resist temptation to change the point of focus, otherwise an image of the Aura may become confused with the afterimage of an object.
—————————————————————-
Meaning of Aura and its colors

The Aura is a reflection of our True Nature at any given moment. At this point it is perhaps necessary to explain what do I mean by “True Nature” and why some effort is necessary to “discover” it.

Our Society seems to emphasize symbols, stereotypes, habits, manners, superficial behavior, pretending, following others and submitting free will to some “leaders”.
Our “Education” seems to be based on views and expectations of people who try to control the flock.

Our True Nature is what’s left when we recognize and Throw out all of our habits, stereotypes, manners, pretending, and superficial behavior and become fully conscious, truly natural and spontaneous.

Note: Some people are so attached to the way they think and habits that it is very hard, if not impossible, for you to discover who they really are. The only way to get an instant insight into their personality seems to be by watching their Aura, because the Aura shows their True Nature, behind any facade of superficial behavior.

In general, the more colorful, cleaner and brighter the Aura, the better and more spiritually advanced is the person. Also, the more even, or uniform the energy distribution in the Aura, the healthier and more balanced the person is.
——————————————————————————


THE COLORS (Finally, right? Sorry lol)

Our Aura surrounds the entire body, but the interpretation of colors below relates to the Aura around the Head Only.

Advanced Readings: When you learn to see Aura well, you can verify it for yourself, by concentrating on certain thoughts while watching your Aura, or telling people what their thoughts are when you see their Auras. Super Powers? Yes Please.

Usually, people have one or two dominating colors (strong points) in their Aura. These colors (or their Auric pairs) will be most likely their favorite colors.

In addition to dominant colors, the Aura reflects: Thoughts, Feelings and Desires, which appear like “Flashes”, “Clouds” or “Flames”, usually further away from the head.
For example: a flash of orange in the Aura indicates a thought or desire to exercise power and control. Orange as a dominant color is a sign of power and general ability to control people. Quickly changing “flashes” indicate quickly changing thoughts.
————————————————————————
Meanings of (Clean) Colors of the Aura:
(colors of the rainbow, bright, shiny, monochromatic colors):

  • Purple:
  •  indicates spiritual thoughts. Purple is never a strong point in the Aura. It appears only as temporary “clouds” and “flames”, indicating truly spiritual thoughts.

————–

  • Blue:
  • Balanced existence,sustaining life, eased nerve system, transmitting forces and energy. People with blue strong point in their Aura are relaxed, balanced and feel ready to live in a cave and survive. They are born survivors. 
  • Blue thought is a thought about relaxing the nerve system to achieve the balance of the mind or a thought about surviving. 
  • Electric blue can override any other color in the Aura, when the person is receiving and/or transmitting information in a telepathic communication.
  • For example Michel Desmarquet, author of “Thiaoouba Prophecy”, frequently glows with the electric blue during his lectures, especially when he answers questions from the public.

———-

  • Turquoise:
     indicates dynamic quality of being, highly energized personality, capable of projection, influencing other people.
  • People with turquoise strong point in their Aura can do many things simultaneously and are good organizers.

They feel bored when forced to concentrate on one thing.

People love bosses with turquoise Auras, because such bosses explain their goals and influence their team rather than demand executing their commands.

Turquoise thought is a thought about organizing and influencing others.

————–

  • Green: 
    restful, modifying energy, natural healing ability.
    All natural healers should have it. 
  • People with a green strong point in their Auras are natural healers. The stronger the green Aura, the better the healer.

Alternatively, they may also love gardening and usually have a “green thumb”. Anything grows for them!

Being in a presence of a person with a strong and green Aura is a very peaceful and restful experience.

Green thought indicates a restful state and healing.

————

  • Yellow: 
    joy, freedom, non-attachment, freeing or releasing vital forces.
  • People who glow yellow are full of inner joy, very generous and not attached to anything.
  • Yellow halo around the head: high spiritual development. A signature of a spiritual teacher. Do not accept spiritual teachings from anyone who does not have such a yellow halo.

Buddha and Christ had yellow halos extending to their arms. Today it is rare on Earth to find a person with a halo larger than 1 inch.

  • Yellow halo appears as a result of a highly active brow chakra (which can be seen glowing with violet by many people… Auric Pair).

Highly spiritual people stimulate the brow chakra continuously for many years, because they always have intensive spiritual thoughts in their minds.
When this chakra is observed when highly active, a yellow (Auric pair) halo appears around it, surrounding the entire head.

Yellow thought indicates a moment of joy and contentment.

————

  • Orange: 
    uplifting and absorbing. Inspiring. A sign of power. Ability and/or desire to control people.

When orange becomes a strong point, it usually contributes to a yellow halo, which then becomes gold, indicating not only a spiritual teacher, but a powerful spiritual teacher, someone capable of demonstrating his/her unique abilities.

  • Orange thought is a thought about exercising power or a desire to control people.

——————-

  • Red: 
    materialistic thoughts, thoughts about the physical body. Predominantly red Aura indicates materialistically oriented person.

———————

  • Pink (=purple+red): 
    Love (in a spiritual sense). 

To obtain a clean pink, you need to mix the purple (the highest frequency we perceive) with red (the lowest frequency).

  • Pink Aura indicates that the person achieved a perfect balance between spiritual awareness and the material existence.

The most advanced people have not only a yellow halo around the head (a permanent strong point in the Aura) but also a large pink Aura extending further away.

  • The pink color in the Aura is quite rare on Earth and appears only as a temporary thought, never as a strong point in the Aura.

———

Meaning of Dirty colors: 

  • (colors appearing darker than background more like a smoke than a glow)
  • Brown: 
    unsettling, distracting, materialistic, negating spirituality.
  • Gray: 
    dark thoughts, depressing thoughts, unclear intentions, presence of a dark side of personality.
  • Sulfur (color of a mustard):
    pain or lack of ease, anger
  • White:
     serious disease, artificial stimulation (Ex: drugs).
    Why does the white color in the Aura indicate problems?
    White color is like a noise, rather than a set of harmonious tones (monochromatic colors). It is impossible to “tune” the noise to an orchestra playing harmonious music, hence the white Aura indicates a lack of harmony in the body and mind.

Nature, which we are a part of, is harmonious. This harmony comes in discrete vibration “tones” or harmonics, partially described by the modern quantum physics. 

  • Several hours before the death, the Aura becomes white, and greatly increases in intensity. For this reason in most cultures “death” is depicted in WHITE (not black), because in the past, people could actually see a white Aura before death.

It seems that our ancestors knew much more than we are prepared to admit.

————————————————————————-
Amplifying your Aura vibration and bio-energy

Things which can greatly amplify your aura are:

  1. Meditation (purifying your mind from any thoughts)
  2. Concentration exercise (My post with the pictures of the circles with the cross)
  3. Matching your Aura with the environment

———————————————————————–

Welp, That concludes the Lesson! Hope you Guys enjoyed! Happy Aura Reading!

Namaste,

~ApriL

anonymous asked:

hello shukamod this is embarrassing but what is a UO that you and other people that watch the live is talking about?

Nononono it’s totally fine! I’ve found that it’s actually really hard to learn about this stuff unless you’ve actually been to a live concert or viewing. Which… as some of you may know from experience, is excruciatingly difficult if you’re an overseas fan (꒪⌓꒪)

The short answer: UO stands for “Ultra Orange”, and is a chemical glowstick that glows bright orange, often only for a couple of minutes before it burns out. Because of how short-lived they are, people usually save them for their favorite songs at concerts.

The long answer: I’m gonna talk about glowsticks under the cut! Yayyy :D
Skip to the Cyalume section for the full explanation on UOs :)

Keep reading

24 HOURS | Jungkook

Genre: Fluff | Angst

Characters: Reader, Jungkook, Hoseok, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung

Plot: It was your birthday, the one day you waited for a long time after your relationship with Jungkook became official. You had everything planned, but it seemed like it was not going to go your way.

Originally posted by jungkook-gifs

Word count: 3,850

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble for ‘The Last Dance’ and a gift for my dear @taeminsgirl159​, but it turned out really long so I guess it’s more of a bonus chapter. huhuhuhu~ And also I decided to give it a name, one of its own, I felt it deserved it. ^^ I am dead tired rn so I’ll most probably go to sleep right after posting it. Hope you like it!~ 

1:35 AM

You kept staring at the clock on your phone as if waiting for a sign from him. It was exhausting, but you could not fall asleep either. You would put your phone down and bury your face in the pillow, then pick it up again only to see that not even 5 minutes passed.

Everything felt like a dream after the dance show in which you and Jungkook made everyone’s mouth drop, people were showering you with compliments, more offers came your way, and definitely more recognition. Messages and calls coming from every direction, rumors, headlines, news, pictures, they were almost overwhelming for you, a person not used to the spotlight. There were times when your relationship was on the brink of being discovered, and that put you both under great pressure. But a month or two after the heat died out and things went back to normal.

It had already been half a year since you started dating, a time filled with good and bad things, just like in any other relationship. The only thing making it harder for you was time, or better said lack of it…Meeting was hard, and most of the time it was in the studio, practicing for some event. At times he would crash at your place, making your problems shrink to almost nothing as the everything around you faded to black. In those precious moments it was just you and him. Missing him was something you were used to, but now a special day was just around the corner -your birthday- and you wanted to spend every second of it with the person you loved most. You could not stand it anymore, you had to talk to him, to hear his voice at least, so you called him. The phone kept ringing and ringing with no answer, but just as you were about to give up, he picked up.

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MY ANGEL; JIMIN

                                                                                                 CHAPTER II

Words : 2.8k
Genre : Guardian Angel AU | Fluff, slight smut

part 1

Thanks to Admin L for helping me getting a good start for the ‘smutty’ part ♥

I apologize for any grammatical or mistake in general, please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language (This is also my very first kinda smut so pls bear with me lol)

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Jamie Benn - May I have this dance?

Request: Can you do a Jamie benn imagine where you’re at your best friends wedding and your are the maid of honor and he’s the best man and you just connect and then when it’s time for the slow dance he asks you to dance with him. And then the rest is history

Author’s note: I was excited to see this one since I’m actually going to be a bride’s maid in the next year. A girl can only dream to be this lucky though lol!

Up next: Auston Matthews

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Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 98: When I Jab You With My Sword

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 98: When I Jab You With My Sword

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating: T

Summary:  A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring  Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all  swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to  Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown  out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Missed the beginning? ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74) (75) (76) (77) (78) (79) (80) (81) (82) (83) (84) (85) (86) (87) (88) (89) (90) (91) (92) (93) (94) (95) (96) (97)

Tagging a few people who may be interested: @sailormew4@annaamell@flslp87@emmateo26@fleurreads @doracianstormrose@mermaidswans@bethacaciakay@ultraluckycatnd@allfangirlallthetime@effulgentcolors, @ilovemesomekillianjones@kat2609@brooke-to-broch@missgymgirl @hellomommanerd @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven@charmingturkeysandwich@jennjenn615 @laschatzi@kimmy46@snowbellewells@iamanneenigma @daxx04 @lapi-lazuli@nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior @in-spirational @gillie@manic-pixiefangirl @britishguyslover@ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst@nofeels@holmes-a-holic@kmomof4 @linda8084

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When I Jab You With My Sword

CS Genre: CS future fic (referencing 2x9)

Emma gripped her sword tightly, dancing lightly on the balls of her feet, mentally preparing her attack. She sized up her opponent, adrenaline pumping through her.  She couldn’t afford to fail.  Not again. Way, way too much was riding on this sword fight.

With a fierce battle cry, Emma attacked, springing forward, bringing her sword down as hard as she could. It connected with the honed steel of his blade, and Emma felt the reverberation all the way up her arm. Emma fought fiercely, calling upon all her training, all her cunning, all her physical strength, but her opponent met her blow for blow.  

Finally, in one last, desperate move, Emma used Killian’s spin and attack move.  Her muscles were screaming at her.  If this move didn’t work, she was out of options.

He anticipated her motion, easily disarming her, and she fell to the ground defeated.

Keep reading

Hey guys! This is just my reaction/summary post of the BTS Concert in Newark (Thursday, 3/23)! I’ll be going into a lot of detail, but bare with me. I’ve linked all the fancams I took throughout the post, so you can check that out :)

[Full Fancam Playlist]

BEFORE THE CONCERT

Alright so first things first…I’ve been following BTS since ~May/June 2014, and this was the first time I was actually able to go to a live concert. I WAS LITERALLY BEYOND THE MOON when I got tickets, and I was so excited that I was badgering everyone I knew with my fangirling. BTS means so much to me, they got me through some of the hardest times in my life, and they gave me happiness and hope. So getting to go to one of their concerts, see them and support them in person, was such a blessing.

Keep reading

daddy’s toys (Cashton)

summary: Calum touched Daddy’s sex toys while daddy wasn’t home


Calum came in the kitchen, Ashton wasn’t there. He left a note on the table for Calum. He walked towards the table and read it.

‘Hey princess,
Daddy is shopping with Luke for helping to choose his wedding suit. Next month it’s his wedding with Michael, so excited! By the way, your breakfeast lays in the fridge. I will be back in a few hours

Xx Daddy’

Calum smiled, he was excited too for Michael and Luke. Calum knew he would cry when he sees Luke and Michael kiss in the church as a married couple. Tears of happiness ofcourse.

He stood up and made his way to the fridge. He opened it to see a bowl filled with cornflakes and red fruit pieces in milk. He took it out of the fridge and placed it on the table.

Calum hated lonely mornings, he missed daddy faster than anything, in both ways. Just of the thought (read: memory) of Ashton wrecking his ass with his thick dick, made him horny and stiff, there.

He ate the half of his 'breakfeast’ and walked upstairs to daddy’s room. Calum had his own toys but daddy his toys were bigger and better. He searched for Ashtons toys and found them in his warderobe. Calums eyes widened when he saw a large purple dildo. Ashton never used this one on Calum, would this be Ashton his own?

Calum undid himself from his clothes and layed onto his back on the soft matress. At this moment, he didn’t mind he was in Ashtons room, he needed it now.

He spread his legs and shoved the dildo in his tight little hole. The feeling was painful but Calum liked it. When the fake-dick was all the way in him, he setted it on the highest mode. Loud moans left his lips as the material kept hitting that bundle of nerves that drove him crazy.

He started moving his hips at the same rhythm the dildo does and moaned daddy’s name. Even when the dildo was thicker and bigger than the real dick of Ashton, Calum could still imagine that Ashton was giving him this feeling.

Calum took the lube from under Ashtons bed and lubed up his own dick and hand to stroke himself afterwards. He moaned loud and thrusted his own dick in his little lubed hand. Calum threw his head backwards and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, two tight grips grabbed his wrists and places it on each side of Calum. Calum opened his eyes in horror and saw that it was Daddy. He wasn’t happy, but angry.

“Been sneaking in my room, huh?” Ashton said aggressively in his princess’ ear. Calum only swallowed. Ashton pulled the dildo almost all way out and pushed it back in, touching the spot that brought Calum over the edge. The boy underneath Ashtons touch yelped.

“To play with Daddy’s toys, huh?”, Calum looked at him with eyes that couldn’t describe how hot Ashton was for him. “Answer me!”.

“S-sorry Daddy” Calum stuttered and looked at him with sorry eyes (catch fire af lol).

Ashton pulled out the dildo and layed it on his night stand. “You broke more than three rules at once, babyboy. Do you how hard daddy have to punish you?” He whispers in Calums ear. “N-no Ashto-…D-daddy”.

Ashton looked at him with cold eyes. “You are in so much trouble” he undressed him fully.

“Daddy is going to destroy your little ass” he said and grabbed the crook of Calums both knees to push it on the matress next to Calums head with much force. It looked like Calum losed his control, he didn’t make any move. Without a warning or preparation, pushed Ashton all the way into Calum. He still got Calums knees pinned next to each side of his head.

Calums mouth hanged open as his body was covered with a thin layer of sweat. Ashton kept slamming into Calum, making a loud sound of skin slapping skin. Their balls were touching every time Ashton would push into him.

Ashton came with a full load in Calums hole. Ashton pulled out, earning a whine from Calum. He still hadn’t come. “You can come in round two ”. The golden haired boy turned his princess, so he was facing princess’ ass -that was drooling cum of him-.

Calum whined again, his dick was hardly pressed against the matress. Ashton pushed Calums knees forward, so he was sitting on his knees. “You ass looks so pretty when it drools my cum”, he entered Calum again, this time with more force. Calum jerked forward but Ashton pushed him back. The younger boy his mouth was half open and eyes were closed. With every trust Ashton gave, jerked the younger boy forward, but it made him just more overwhelming than ever.

“Still so tight, after being fucked for billion times” Ashton said through gritted teeth and took Calums leaking dick to wank him at a roughly fast place. Calum made high pitchy pornographic moans and bit in the bedsheets to quiet them.

“Cum for me, Princess. My bedroom walls need a new color, I prefer white, could you make them that color, huh?!” Ashton groaned and fasten his pace around Calums penis. Ashton jerked Calum onto his chest with his hair and Calum came hard onto the walls.

“You did great babyboy, I hope you never gonna do something like that again”, Ashton came for the second time into his princess. When they both had collapsed and caught their breath, covered Ashton their naked sweaty bodies with the bedsheets.

“Princess need his beautysleep”


you can still send me request in my inbox ;) xx

To Dance Beneath the Stars: An ACOTAR/ACOMAF (Feysand) Fanfic

IT IS DONE.

Well, in celebration of ACOMAF coming out tomorrow, here is the third installment of my Feyrhys/Feysand series of one-shots: “To Dance Beneath the Stars.” There are a few minor spoilers from the very beginning of ACOMAF (from the first 2 or so chapters), but nothing major. This is my own version of the Spring Court wedding (based on a few posts/headcanons that I’ve had) and what would happen on Feyre’s wedding night, a la ballroom style (since so many people were dying for this scene). I had lots of fun listening to a bunch of whimsical, romantic music for this, not gonna lie. 

Anyhow, I know this is long–29 pages, dear lord–but if you take the time to read it, I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! XD

Love ya, guys! :D

Also, if you want to check out my earlier Feyrhys/Feysand one-shots (which take place chronologically after this one-shot), here are the links! “Fighting Lessons with Rhysand” and “I’ll Stand by You.”

Alright, now I’m gonna go collapse lol

————

I looked in the mirror and saw a porcelain doll–delicate, beautiful, and breakable: me.

The doll looked perfect and absolutely Fae, thanks to Ianthe and Alis, with her brassy hair pulled back in loose curls, wreathed in Spring’s most colorful wildflowers: blues and pinks and purples.  They glowed like jewels in the late afternoon sunlight that came in through the window, splashes of color against the huge, white dress that suffocated the doll.  With the fine makeup and the delicate gold jewelry, she truly lived up to her namesake, beauty.

And the image would have been perfect, if her blue-gray eyes–my eyes–didn’t look so lost, so empty; if the swishing white dress I wore didn’t whisper the truth as I stepped closer to the mirror.

Liar, murderer, worthless human.  

For I was still human where it counted, despite the pointed ears and this immortal body I could barely control.  Because no amount of dresses or makeup or magic could change my human heart, and no amount of white could erase the blood that stained my hands. The eyes in the mirror knew it, and it was that knowledge that created hairline fractures in the careful glamour Alis and Ianthe had so carefully crafted when they dressed me.

I lifted one hand, palm out, to touch the glass, to will some light into those beseeching eyes–and froze.

Because another eye–a feline one–was staring back at me from the center of my palm, dark against my skin. Watching.  

Then it blinked.

I gasped as I snatched my hand back from the mirror to look at Rhys’s tattoo–the mark of my bargain with the powerful High Lord of the Night Court–but it didn’t blink again.  In that moment, it could have seemed like any normal tattoo, if not for the fact that the dark ink seemed to absorb the light around it, as if it were made from the night itself.  

“Everything all right, Feyre?” Alis appeared behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I tensed, looking into the face of the Summer faerie in the mirror.  Her eyes were warm and glinted with concern.

“Of course she’s alright,” Ianthe replied, as she too walked into the room with a long box in her hands. “It’s her wedding day.”

I finally turned away from the doll in the mirror, gripping my skirts tightly as I watched Ianthe place the thin box on the oak table.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the tight feeling in my stomach. I was nervous for the wedding; that had to be it. “What is that?” I asked.  My voice was quiet, but it carried easily in the dressing room.

Ianthe smiled sweetly as she lifted the box’s top to reveal long, white, silk–“Gloves, of course.”

My breath caught, and my fists clenched the folds of my skirts more tightly as a zing shot up my tattooed arm.

“We can’t have…well, you know,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to everything beyond the gloves she was taking from the box.

I glanced down at the dark vines and flowers that crept up my arm to the elbow.  Rhysand’s mark on me; his claim.  The reminder that happily ever afters didn’t come without a price.

But today the Spring Court didn’t want to remember that price; today was supposed to be a day of happiness, when I would finally marry Tamlin and maybe begin to make the false image in the mirror a little more real.

The tattoo sent another spike of energy up my arm, but I took the offered gloves anyway and grimly slipped them on.

My stomach tightened still further to see the black ink hidden beneath the silk, as white as freshly fallen snow in the Winter Court.

Nudging Alis out of the way, Ianthe stepped up behind me and placed her hands lightly on my shoulders to turn me back toward the mirror.  Her smile was serene as she looked over my shoulder, into our image, and crooned, “There. Perfect.”

She tucked a stray piece of golden-brown hair behind my ear. “Ready, Feyre?”

I closed my eyes, shutting out that sick feeling in my stomach, the tingling in my arm. Tamlin, Tamlin, I’m marrying Tamlin, my mind chanted. A spell against the darkness of my thoughts, against the guilt that clung to me like a shadow. This will get better, it will. For him, I can do this. For him, I can be happy. I love him.

When I opened my eyes, I unclenched my fists and let the tension from my shoulders release. Even so, the words felt heavy as they crossed my lips, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet the eyes of the doll in the mirror when I whispered my response.

“Yes.”

***

The Spring Court had truly outdone itself when it came to the wedding decorations.  I tried to focus on them as I left the marble halls of the manor to take the winding cobblestone path toward the garden where the guests–and Tamlin–waited for me.

In the last light of day, the garden was spectacular.  White and yellow, red and pink and deepest blue, the flowers of Tamlin’s parents’ garden were in full bloom.  Their mixed scents were a bit cloying to my new sense of smell, but I hardly noticed with everything else.

In front of me, on either side of the aisle, were rows upon rows of faeries–Tamlin’s court, faces bright as they beheld their false savior.  I didn’t recognize most of them, but it hardly mattered. My eyes slipped away from them like there was some glamour on me: Fire Night all over again.  

Breathe, breathe, I chanted in my head as I closed my eyes.  Breathe to calm that coiling anxiety that was snaking up my spine to wrap around my ribs, my lungs. Breathe to slow this treacherous human heart.

I opened my eyes to see Tamlin standing at the other end of the aisle, Lucien beside him, and I felt that snake recoil inside. I pushed it down–down, down into the shadows as I took one last shaky breath.

And smiled at him.

He was magnificent, my High Lord.  Dressed in deepest hunter green with his golden hair pulled back, he was Spring personified, and the flecks of amber in his emerald eyes glinted in the light of the dying sun as I walked to join him at the end of the aisle.

Ianthe began the ceremony.

I could do this. I could ignore the hundreds of eyes on me–their expectations–and focus on being with Tamlin. Not the High Lord, not the warrior, but the Fae I loved. The Fae I had done so much for, had…killed…for…

The sick feeling reared up again as I remembered those faces and the blood. Oh Cauldron, no, not the blood.  I pushed the memories back, back, back, focusing on Tamlin and his small smile as he recited the vows I could barely hear.  

“–and you have been so good to me. I promise to–”

Good? No, no, I wasn’t good, I wanted to scream. I’m not, I’m not, it’s all a lie! I’m not your savior–I’m a murderer!

I was damned, damned for the blood on my hands. I would drown in this guilt and this terror and this blood–this blood that encircled my fractured soul in a vise that would never, ever let me go until I shattered–

Tamlin’s hands tightened around my own and I knew he was waiting for my response–for my yes–but I couldn’t, I couldn’t. I was suffocating. I had to say no–needed to say no–and I opened my mouth to say the impossible–

But I didn’t have to.

Because just then, as the sun yielded to the night as it always must, thunder boomed and darkness flooded the garden in a massive wave.

The guests screamed, falling from their chairs as they scrambled to get away.

And amidst the chaos, I heard a familiar chuckle, a laugh that caressed the very marrow in my bones.  

Out of the darkness, straightening the lapels of his jacket, strode the High Lord of the Night Court.

Rhysand.

“Hello, Feyre darling,” he purred.  

Behind him, someone screamed. Rhys merely raised an eyebrow in amusement, and suddenly there was no movement at all. Ianthe, Lucien–everyone around me was frozen.

Everyone, that is, except Tamlin.

My High Lord stepped in front of me, a growl building in his throat.  Those lethal talons were fully extended as he said, “You weren’t invited, Rhys. Go.”

“Rhys,” I whispered. I was cold and burning all at once as those violet eyes fixed on me.

Rhys merely tsked, casually tucking his hands into his pockets and cocking his head to the side as wisps of starlit night extended toward us. They parted around Tamlin to caress my arms and waist, my cheeks and neck, before honing in on the glove of my tattooed arm. For a moment, the virgin white of the glove became pitch black, became deepest night, before the glove simply…fell away, leaving my tattoo bare for the frozen Spring Court to see.

“There,” he said, still ignoring Tamlin, “much better.” He rolled his neck, as if this were all nothing. As if crashing another High Lord’s wedding and holding hundreds of faeries frozen in place were as simple as falling asleep. And for him, maybe it was.

I felt a tingle of warmth climb along my tattooed arm. Looking down, I sucked in a breath as I saw pinpricks of starlight settling into the swirls of ink, glistening against those midnight petals.  

That bond attached to my center gave a strange tug, and I looked up to meet Rhys’s eyes again. Though Tamlin stood between us, I could still clearly see them glinting in the darkness, an echo of the starlight on my arm.

“Now,” he purred, focused on me. Tamlin remained silent, tense and wary.  “I must say, I’m rather upset.  No invite to the wedding, Feyre darling?  And after everything we went through together Under the Mountain. I’m insulted.”

I snorted.

Rhys’s lips crooked up on one side.

Raising my chin, I matched him look for look and said, “What do you want, Rhys?”

Rhys inclined his head, acknowledging my move. “You know why I’m here.”

My stomach tightened.  No, no, not now.

“Me.”

Those violet eyes burned.  “You,” he agreed. “And I always enjoy crashing a good wedding, of course,” he remarked, brushing an invisible crease in his sleeve. He was undoubtedly enjoying the tension that gripped the entire frozen Spring Court.

When I glared, he gave me a cheeky grin, adding, “Plus, it’s about time for me to start collecting my end of the bargain, don’t you think? You should be happy; I gave you several months of respite before calling in. Isn’t that generous of me?”

If looks could kill, Rhys would be dead. Sadly, that wasn’t the case, though my anger did cause several of the crystal goblets on the reception table to shatter.  My magic.

Rhys tutted as he leaned back on his heels, eyebrows raised. “Still as ungrateful as ever, I see. Some things truly don’t change, do they? You may want to work on that control, though.”

Tamlin had finally had enough.  Roaring in anger, he strode toward Rhysand, claws extended.  But before he could land a hit–before my High Lord could even get within five feet of him–he met an invisible shield.

Beyond Tamlin’s reach, Rhys looked unconcerned, though I could somehow sense the small spark of fury behind those eyes.

“Now that,” he crooned, “was a very bad idea.”  And then suddenly there was a rush of wind and darkness–a mighty push–and Tamlin was thrown backwards, landing in a crouch at my feet.

Tamlin was ready to go at Rhys again, to cut him to pieces, when Rhys took a single step forward.  Shadows danced and shifted around him, hints of the nightmarish monsters waiting in the dark.  The pressure in the air heightened as Lucien and the other members of Tamlin’s court fell to their knees, grasping their heads in pain.

“Do you really want to start a war, Tamlin?” Rhys asked softly.  I thought I could see the misty outline of those enormous wings behind him, the curved talon on each apex. Beautiful and dangerous, the High Lord of the Night Court. “You know the consequences of breaking a bargain.”

Ripping his gaze from Rhysand, Tamlin looked at his court on their knees.  He was shaking with fury.  “You will not take her from me.”

Rhys’s gaze shifted from Tamlin to me.  “That is not your decision but hers.”

My breath froze in my lungs as I held his gaze and felt that tug along our bond.  And I knew in that moment, knew that despite what he said, he had come here at this moment because of me: because of my fear and panic.  Through our bond, he’d known, and he’d answered the silent call I hadn’t even realized I’d sent.  

I remembered what he had done for me Under the Mountain, how he had fought for me at the end against Amarantha as she broke me on that marble floor.

Not your enemy, someone whispered in my mind.  I didn’t know if it was him or me, but in that moment I decided to trust it.

I would not let Tamlin make the choice between me and his court. Rhys was right; this was my decision to make, and I would own the choice I made Under the Mountain.  

I would honor my vow.

Stepping forward, I gently grasped Tamlin’s shaking shoulder and bent down to lightly kiss his cheek.  

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his ear.  “But I made a bargain, and I will keep my word.  I’ll be okay; don’t worry.”

I felt Tamlin’s shoulder slump beneath my hand–caught the hurt look in those emerald eyes I loved so much–but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.  The talons were gone, for the moment at least.

Steeling myself, I let go of him and straightened to my full height.

At the other end of the aisle, still surrounded by a darkness deeper than the navy blues and plums of dusk around us, Rhys waited.  He stretched out a hand in silent invitation, his gaze never leaving my face.

Eyes narrowed, I huffed a breath, loosened my shoulders, and crossed the distance between us with my chin held high.

A thought not my own echoed in my mind: You’re using my tricks well, I see.

And I realized that was exactly what I was doing. Head up, shoulders relaxed, no fear.

I’m a fast learner, I thought back.  Rhys’s returned smile was small but real.

Before I knew it, I was standing before him, and I paused for just a second, the merest breath, looking from the High Lord’s outstretched hand to those violet eyes that twinkled like stars.  The monsters in the shadows had vanished, as had those magnificent wings.

Rhys’s eyebrows raised, the slightest question, and I didn’t flinch when I took his hand.  The grin he gave me then was stunning as he pulled me to him, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but look up at him.  His face was too close–I could count the lights in his eyes–and I tried to stifle the shiver that ran down my spine so he wouldn’t feel it across the bond.

Rhys leaned his head down a bit, filling my vision, and flashed a knowing grin.  

Cauldron boil me, he was such a prick.

Something glinted in his eyes then, and I only recognized it for what it was after he’d pulled away from me and was bending down on one knee: mischief. What I had seen was the inkling of mischief in his eyes, and now it was full blown as he looked up at me, white teeth flashing in a wicked smile that made my insides squirm.

I tried to take a step back, but he gently caught my tattooed hand. “I almost forgot,” he murmured, voice as deep and gentle as a lover’s.  

“What are you doing?” I squeaked, face flaming as I felt one of those large hands skim the sensitive skin of my ankle.

Oh no, he wouldn’t.

But Rhys’s eyes were twinkling as his hand slid up my calf, beneath my dress. I felt my eyes widen as I stuttered a breath.

His dark hair created a halo around his head, but the look in his eyes was devilish as his hand crept up, up, up to the garter belt resting above my knee.

I felt his warm, strong fingers wrap around it, grazing my lower thigh and sending icy fire along my nerves as he watched me and murmured, “I do believe it’s customary to remove the bride’s garter belt at her wedding, no? I must say, humans do have some traditions right. I find this one particularly…delightful.”

I gasped for a breath as he slowly tugged the garter belt down. My legs were trembling, my knees weak, and I was burning, burning, burning as I stared into those bright eyes.

He trailed taunting fingers down my leg, the garter belt hooked in his grasp, and I lightly hissed: “My husband is supposed to remove the garter belt.”

Rhys huffed a laugh, scooping the belt over my ankle and holding it up to examine briefly before grinning cheekily up at me. “Semantics,” he said, before rising to his feet and hooking his arms under my knees and shoulders to lift me easily into his arms.

“What–” I yelped.  I slapped his chest. “Put me down.”

Tamlin, who had been as shocked as I’d been, was seething again, canines and talons out.  “How dare you–”

“Ah, ah,” Rhys said, sparing Tamlin a glance. For a few seconds, Tamlin froze, but the full effect of Rhysand’s magic didn’t last for long.  After a few blinks, my High Lord was moving again, though at an incredibly slow pace.  He was pushing through Rhys’s magic, but only just.

Rhys’s attention was already on me again.  

“Oh, but I like this human tradition, too, Feyre darling,” he purred, and I could feel the vibrations in his chest.  “How does it go again? Death of the old life and birth of the new one? Aren’t I supposed to carry the bride over the threshold to commemorate this moment?”

I ground my teeth, utterly exasperated.  “Yes, your bride–which I’m not.”

Rhys’s smirk just widened and his eyes–those violet eyes of darkest blue, swirling with those galaxies of light–seemed to flash with something I both did and didn’t understand.

I huffed to cover the strange feeling and crossed my arms, knowing the action must look ridiculous in this dress, in his arms.  “You are not my husband.”

Rhys’s hold on me tightened just a bit, and I shivered when my breast brushed against his chest.

“And again, I reply: semantics.”

I made a rude gesture at him.  Rhys just laughed, striding a few steps toward the head of the aisle where Tamlin still made his slow progress.  As he did, he hiked me up against his chest and freed one of his hands.  When I looked down, I saw that he still held the garter belt.

He paused several yards from Tamlin, and grinned.

Leaning his head down, Rhys whispered in my ear, “And now for my favorite part.”

Then Rhys threw the garter belt into the air, simultaneously releasing the Spring Court from his hold.  Chaos ensued as faeries screamed and scrambled and knocked each other in their mad dash to escape.  And through it all, I watched the arc of the garter belt through the night air, falling, falling, falling–

–onto Lucien’s surprised face.  Metal eye revolving wildly, Lucien stumbled mid-leap as he grabbed at the garment.

Rhys burst out laughing at Lucien’s shocked expression. “Well, what do you know:  Fox-boy. Congratulations on the upcoming nuptials–I do hope you’ll invite me this time.”

Lucien snarled, but didn’t come any closer. What could he do against the High Lord of the Night Court that wouldn’t start a war?

Rhys turned his attention from Lucien back to Tamlin, the only one still working against the power of Rhysand’s spell.  

Rhys beheld Tamlin for a moment, and I felt his grip tighten on me.  “Now,” he said, and his voice was soft–meant for Tamlin’s and my ears alone–“I think this arrangement is only fair.  You got her for the wedding day; it only makes sense that I get her for the wedding night, don’t you think?”

“Rhys!” I shrieked, glaring up at him, but he just held me tighter against his chest, grinning down at me happily.

Then an earth-shattering roar split open the sky, and Tamlin broke his way out of the spell, transforming into the snarling beast that could tear out Rhys’s throat.  

Still grinning like mad, Rhys spared a minor glance for Tamlin and drawled, “Ah, that’s my cue. Hold on, love,” before he took a single step back.

One second Tamlin was in mid-leap, bearing down on us with claws extended, and the next: nothing.

Only darkness, only shadows, and Rhys’s warm body against me. Wrapped in his arms, I could feel his laughter echoing into my chest and along my bones, and all I could see was that stunning smile so close to me and those grinning blue eyes looking at me, seeing me–

And then Rhys took a step forward, further into that darkness–through it–and we crossed over the threshold together. The pressure released, the true darkness faded, and I knew deep in my bones–as the world realigned and the stars shown above and the cold mountain air tickled my cheeks and hair–that I had finally arrived.

The Night Court.

It was…not what I’d expected.  In my nightmares, the Night Court was much like Under the Mountain, a place of fear and darkness and terror, full of screams and torture and blood.  My imaginings had painted the court in ghastly grays and blacks, the darkest reds and browns of smeared and drying blood.  

But I couldn’t have been further from the truth.  

No longer laughing, Rhys’s low voice sounded by my ear, an honest, curious question.  “What do you think?”

It was a good thing he was still carrying me because I would have had trouble standing on my own.  We were at the threshold of a large balcony inlaid with shimmering moonstone, and beyond it…

Beyond it was a sea of stars that were shining, stark and brilliant, through the depths of the blackest night, twinkling and dancing above rugged, snow-capped peaks. Tonight there was a winter’s moon, full of memory and promise as it hung among the stars, an anchor for the ever-moving sky.

It was haunting, and beautiful, and shadow, and light. Lovely.  And I felt something go quiet within my soul as I beheld it all, as I drank in that never-ending sea of stars and light and darkness.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered

The gems of starlight on my tattoo flared briefly in response.

I hardly noticed when Rhysand set me on my feet, as I took those few steps to the edge of the balcony to look out at that endless, glorious night–an echo of the moon and stars on my bureau drawer a lifetime ago.

I was so entranced, I was unable to stop myself as I tripped over the petticoats of my ridiculous dress and–there was a loud, awful tearing noise.

I winced, feeling heat lick my face.  Looking down, I saw the tear, several inches along the bottom. Irreparable. Ugly. Ruined.

Just like me. Just like the wedding.

Oh Cauldron, I’d ruined it. Not just this hideous dress, but the wedding.  I was going to say no and Tamlin–

Breathe, breathe, breathe. But I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as heat built up inside me–anger and shame and humiliation and–I had to get out of this dress.  

So I reached down and with my inhuman strength I tore at the rip. Tore and tore and tore, until I’d lost an entire layer and my fingers hurt. I felt like screaming and crying and hiding and what had I–

“You know,” said that cool voice by my ear, breaking through my thoughts, “if you really wanted to take your clothes off for me, you need only ask for help. I’d hardly deny you.”

I whipped around, even as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.  In my anger, in my panic, I’d forgotten where I was, forgotten he was still there.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of Rhys so close, of his golden skin–no longer pale from Under the Mountain–and his burning eyes against the magnificent palace of moonstone behind him, against that star-kissed sky.

I reeled myself in.

“Shut. Up. You. Prick,” I snarled, face reddening. From anger, I told myself, that’s all.

I felt the caress of those talons across my mind, the chuckle behind his words as he whispered into my head, Are you sure, Feyre darling?

A growled rippled from me, entirely Fae.

Rhys merely smirked, cocking his head to the side as he surveyed me up and down, looking at the tears and tatters at the bottom of my dress.

“I don’t know, Feyre. I’d say it’s an improvement–at least you can actually move now.”

I crossed my arms, glaring up at him, hating that he was right.  

“What do you want, Rhysand?”

The High Lord of the Night Court placed his hand on his chest in mock hurt, no better than a common minstrel player.  “Rhysand, Feyre darling?  I’m hurt; I thought we got past that Under the Mountain.”

And I couldn’t help the burst of memories in my mind.  Not of that villainous mask he’d worn as Rhysand, but of the male beneath that calm facade.  I saw Rhys as he picked up that ash dagger and lunged at Amarantha to protect me, as he screamed my name like he cared, as he got up again and again and again until he was bleeding and gasping beside me on that cracked marble floor.  As we stood together on that balcony Under the Mountain and I confessed the secrets of my shredded human heart and he’d listened.  As he told me about the wings, and the flying, and that he didn’t want me to fight alone. Or die alone.

No, we had gotten beyond that, hadn’t we.

I am not your enemy, Feyre, he whispered in my mind.  And despite everything, despite what everyone had been telling me otherwise, it felt like truth.

But I didn’t give him the satisfaction of calling him Rhys. He wasn’t my enemy, but that didn’t mean I knew what he really was yet. And just because he wasn’t my enemy didn’t mean I shouldn’t be wary. He was still Tamlin’s enemy, after all.

So didn’t that make him mine as well?

Something in the back of my mind answered in a whisper–the softest of sounds–not your enemy, not your enemy, not your enemy.

Setting my teeth, I ground out my concession: “Fine. But I still don’t know what you want.”

Satisfied as a cat, Rhys began circling me, and a different memory flickered across my mind of another night when he’d done the same. The night we’d met: Calanmai.

“I thought we already established what I wanted back at that delightful yet disastrous wedding,” he said, hands in his pockets.

I watched his movements, turning my head slowly so he was always in my line of sight.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” I deadpanned.

Amusement flickered in his eyes, and I felt it along our bond.  “You’re learning our ways, I see,” he crooned. “Very well.”

He stopped, facing me.

“I want to help you,” he said.  As if it were that simple.

“You want…to help me,” I said, skeptical.  I leaned back against the railing, welcoming the support.

He just looked at me, that light flickering in his eyes. A challenge, a beckon: come on, his eyes seemed to say, ask me why.

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my curiosity, but I couldn’t help myself. I squared my shoulders, the tattered dress forgotten as I asked, “Why?”

Rhys’s smile widened. Wickedly handsome, the High Lord of the Night Court. And dangerous.

He was going to be the death of me.

“I have my reasons,” he said.

“Like hell you do, prick. Tell me,” I said, taking a step toward him.

Rhys didn’t back down–not at all.  In fact, his eyes were positively dancing as his voice brushed lightly across the threshold of my mind.  There’s my Feyre.

But aloud he said, “You really want to know my reasons?” He took a step forward as well, so we were only a foot apart. I could feel the heat from his powerful body, see the wisps of shadow that floated off of him to swirl along the lines of my tattoo, flirting with the starlight on my arm.

I didn’t back down, didn’t back away–didn’t even think to. I was burning, more wide-awake than I’d been in months.   

“Yes,” I said quietly, into that small space between us.

Rhys leaned a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself.  Those white teeth flashed in the darkness, inches away, as he murmured, “Then let’s make another deal.”

Bad idea, bad idea, my mind bleated.  My heart pounded as my eyes narrowed.

“And…what would be the terms?” Shut up, shut up, shut up, my common sense yelled at me.  But it was hopeless; I never did seem to be able to keep my mouth shut around Rhys.

Rhys didn’t blink as he breathed, “A trade.” And then a little more loudly, “During your time here, I’ll get to teach you what I want, and in exchange I’ll tell you my reasons for why I want to train you; why I want your help.”

My stomach tightened. Why would the High Lord of the Night Court have such an interest in helping me? And why did he need my help?

Suspicion tickled the back of my mind, making me ask, “What type of lessons?”

“Oh, you know, helpful ones,” he said nonchalantly, voice smooth as night. “Fighting, magic–I wasn’t lying at the wedding when I said you needed to get that under control–and…others.”

I had a bad feeling I knew what would fall under others.

“Others such as…?”

He clicked his tongue. “So many questions tonight, Feyre darling.”  He watched me for a moment, face blank, before smiling slowly. “Alright, why not?” he said. “We’ll throw in mind shielding and reading lessons, too, but only because you asked, love.”

“No,” I growled, seething. Damn it, damn it, damn it all.

He placed his hands on either side of me on the balcony railing, not threatening but still present.  “Really?” he crooned, and his face was so close to mine that I tried to stare at his forehead, his nose–anywhere but those captivating eyes full of fire and challenge and…something else I couldn’t name.

“No reading lessons.” I could deal with the others.  The magic, the fighting–I’d been wanting to learn those things for weeks now, but Tamlin hadn’t let me, had been too busy.  And to be able to shield my mind…to learn that from Rhys–I’d be a fool to not take him up on his offer, if it meant I could protect my thoughts from him or others like him. To protect Tamlin and the Spring Court from enemies.

But not the reading. I couldn’t face that shame, my own fault, my stupidity that would have gotten me and Lucien killed during that second task Under the Mountain if it hadn’t been for Rhys.

A warm hand gently but firmly took my chin then, so I was looking into Rhys’s eyes.  They were burning, and I caught the flicker of anger there–but it wasn’t directed toward me.  “You are not stupid, Feyre,” Rhys murmured. “Never ever think that.  It is not your fault that you can’t read, and if you set your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll excel at it like everything else you do. It’s just a matter of practice.”

My face flushed again. I didn’t know what to say. I looked for that taunt in his eyes, the mockery that must surely be there.

But there was none.  Only that fierceness, that challenge, and beneath it a strange warmth. The bond tugged before relaxing, stretching almost as if in a languid yawn.

Reading had been my weakness Under the Mountain, and it had nearly gotten me killed. It was one thing if my illiteracy harmed me, I realized, but it had almost killed Lucien, too–had almost consigned all of Prythian to an endless tyranny of death and blood. And I knew–knew that if I were to become Tamlin’s wife, I would need to defeat this weakness; that I would be expected to know how to read and write, if only for correspondences.

But also, if I admitted it to myself, a small part of me wanted to know for me, too.

Bracing myself, ignoring the warmth of his finger on my chin, I answered the challenge in those starry eyes, and nodded.

Rhys grinned then, triumphant, as he purred, “Excellent.”

I let out a shaky breath, glad it was over, glad–

But then that smile turned wicked–turned absolutely feline and predatory.

“What?” I said sharply.

“There is one more condition,” he said, still holding onto my chin, “to seal the bargain.”  A breeze ruffled his midnight hair, and star-flecked darkness hovered like a crown there before wisping away.

I tensed.

“It’s another one of my favorite wedding traditions, you see,” he murmured, face inches away. “And since it is your wedding night after all…”

He wouldn’t–“I am not sleeping with you,” I blurted.

Rhys raised his eyebrow, but there was a hint of steel in his voice when he said, “Rest assured, Feyre, that I would never force you. Ever.” Shadows flickered in his eyes–the ones I knew were still in mine.  I felt my stomach clench, remembering.

Amarantha’s whore, they’d called him. Oh Cauldron, what I’d just said, what she’d done to him…

His grip on my chin loosened as he lifted his other hand from the balcony railing and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.  In the light, the burnished gold of it looked like starlight.  

Rhys’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he added, more teasingly, “Trust me, if you are ever in my bed, it will because you want to be there.” He paused. “It is your choice. Always.”

Truth again. I felt my heart leap as I reached for him through the bond, to somehow communicate all the things I couldn’t say aloud.  Thank you and I’m sorry. Sorry for what I said, sorry for what she did to you. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

And amazingly, I felt a warmth seep back across that bond.  It made my breath catch as it flooded my core, rising to wrap around my heart, my lungs, until I almost felt like I was floating.

What type of bargain had we made Under the Mountain?

“I–” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat.  Rhys still watched me, inches away.  “What tradition?”

The warmth and playfulness in his smile at that moment mirrored the heat that still radiated in me, that made me feel lighter than I had all day.

Leaning closer, Rhys brought his mouth to my ear, his cheek brushing mine, as he whispered, “Why, the wedding dance of course.”

I braced my tattooed hand on his shoulder–to shove him away, I told myself.

“What?” I asked. I’d meant it to be sharp, but my body betrayed me and it came out breathier than I wanted.  

Rhys didn’t back away–just turned his head slightly so his lips brushed my cheek.

“The first dance,” he whispered, laughter in his voice.

I blinked. Turned my head a little to look at him. Gripped his shoulder: to pull him closer or push him away, I wasn’t sure.

What was I thinking?

I took a small step away but didn’t let go. Traitorous hand.

“Why?” I asked, keeping my breathing steady.  

Rhys tilted his head slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes. His hair was messy from the wind, and I had the strangest urge to touch it, to run my fingers through it.  

Was his hair as soft as it looked?

Rhys gave me a knowing smile, lifting my free hand–slowly, slowly, watching me the entire time to see if I wanted to stop–to rest it on his head, where the starlit shadows still danced.

My pale hand was stark against the darkness of his hair. I didn’t move my hand–didn’t move at all as my eyes trailed down and our eyes locked.  

Rhys raised a brow at me.

And my heart stuttered. Holding my breath, my other hand still braced on his shoulder, I allowed my eyes to lift from his gaze again, to my hand in his hair.  

Slowly, I drew my hand through it, wondering at its softness, at how it pooled in my hand.  Soft, like a cloud, like ravens’ feathers.

Rhys was still watching my face when my nails accidentally scratched his scalp, a light motion.  He purred.

And that woke me up.  Face burning, I yanked myself away, taking a step back.

What was I doing?

Rhys just gave me one of his feline smiles, straightening to look at me more fully.

“So that dance, Feyre?” he asked innocently, stretching out his palm.

I looked at the palm, and then at him.  “You still didn’t tell me why you want the first dance.”

“Does a male ever need an excuse to want to dance with a beautiful female?”

I glared at him.

He chuckled.  

“No ulterior motive, Feyre, I promise.  I just want to dance with you, and you deserve to have a better wedding night considering how your wedding day went.”

A dangerous offer.  I stood there and contemplated him.  It would be safer and smarter to say no, to turn away and demand that he take me to my room so I could sleep in peace. And yet…

And yet, there was still that warmth in his eyes, and he had saved me from saying no to Tamlin in front of his entire court.  

And if I were being entirely honest with myself, a small part of me wanted to dance with him, to see what it was like–what he was truly like.  This male beneath the mask.

Rhys.

Shoving my common sense into a corner of my mind, I stepped forward and took his hand before I could convince myself otherwise.

Rhys’s face flashed through several emotions: surprise, delight, and a few others I couldn’t yet name.

His hand tightened around my own. I hadn’t realized how much larger it was.

Before I could take it back, before I could even begin to question the wisdom of my decision, he was already leading me to the balcony’s entrance.

And then we crossed the threshold, and any breath left in my lungs swooshed out.

A ballroom.

A gorgeous ballroom, with pillars wrapped in streams of gauze that fluttered in the breeze: blues and greens and violets and golds.  The windows–if you could even call them that–were huge and open to the night, giving us an open view of those snowy mountains beneath the star-strewn sky.  A breeze whispered in through those windows, surprisingly warm–magic?–, and it lifted the edges of my tattered skirt as Rhys led me across the marble floor, toward the center where the image of a mountain crowned with three stars was engraved: the insignia of the Night Court.

Above us, floating magic lights flickered into life, encased in colored glass: warm yellows and oranges, cool greens and blues. And beyond that, far above our heads, a dome of clear glass: a sea of stars.

I drew my gaze back down, back to Rhys, and couldn’t help but watch how the colored lights shifted across his face, playfully chasing the shadows there as we stood in the center of the room.

My hand still in his, Rhys swept a bow, looking up at me playfully.  His eyes beckoned, shimmering in that colorful light.  

“Would you honor me with the first dance, Feyre darling?”

Still not your wife, I couldn’t help but shoot down the bond. Rhys just smirked cheekily, and with the exasperated sigh of the long-aggrieved, I murmured, “Yes.”

That bond tightened between us.

And then something rather obvious hit me.  “But wait,” I said, as Rhys straightened from his bow and drew closer, “there’s no music.”

“Don’t worry, Feyre darling,” he purred, taking my tattooed hand in his own and placing his other hand on my hip.  “There will be.”

I looked at him suspiciously, before slowly placing my hand on his shoulder.

We paused, looking at each other.

I raised an eyebrow.  Rhys grinned mischievously.

Then there was music–glorious, beautiful music playing in my head, across that bridge between us, and I knew it was music from the Night Court, from one of its dances, its celebrations. Full of soothing strings and ghostly pipes and triumphant brass and instruments I couldn’t name, the music spoke of life and its spark–its passion–and the wakening of the dark at the dying of the day, of endings and beginnings and the endless cycles in between and–

And we were off.

Rhys swept me across the floor, laughing quietly as I stumbled to keep up at first.  His movements were smooth and practiced–feline–as he led me through the unknown steps, the ducks and swirls and twirls, the drawing together and coming apart.  At first, I stumbled and stepped on his toes–serves him right, I couldn’t help but breathlessly think–but the music was relatively calm at first, at its awakening, and I had time to learn the steps with him, time to mirror and then to guess where he would move next, time to add little flairs into the dance–something entirely my own.

And at some point–I couldn’t say when–the music got faster, crescendoing as the creatures of the night would awake and stretch, as they’d give into the urge to dance and run and fly over mountain tops to chase those brilliant, brilliant stars–the ones in his eyes as they twinkled and he laughed with me, as he drew me to him and twirled me in his arms faster than I thought possible. He flipped me so my back was against his chest, his hand splayed flat across my stomach, and we moved in this sensuous dance that somehow, somehow I seemed to know the steps to already, like some half-remembered dream.

The music intensified, and the room blurred around us as we circled each other, skimming each other’s arms and torsos as the other danced out of reach. I gasped and laughed–I was laughing for the first time in months, I realized–as I lunged for him and he skirted around me, grazing his hand along my arm and up to my shoulder as he drew close and I could see the laughter in his eyes. That perpetual challenge was there, staring back at me: play with me, dance with me.

And I answered that call. Yes, yes, yes.

I caught his hand, drew him to me, and we danced and danced and played.  We were flashes of black and white–darkness and light–across the floor, as the torn skirts of my wedding dress flared to wrap around his dark pants and boots when we drew together, as they then separated once more when we whipped apart.

As the music in our heads hurdled toward the climax and the violins soared, it was hard to tell where one of us ended and the other began, and at some point his wings–those lovely, membranous wings–materialized behind his back.  In the light of the lamps and the stars and the moonlight, I saw that they weren’t solid darkness like I’d originally thought.  As Rhys drew me close to lift me up and spin me, his wings spread out behind him and I realized:

There was color in that darkness.

Shimmers of gold and amber, of deepest crimson and the blues of midnight, his wings were both darkness and light, and if that part of me weren’t broken, I would have loved to paint them.

The music flowed and dove off that cliff, falling from the climax in a controlled dive–then a shallow glide, coming slowly down, down to the end of night and the coming of dawn.  It swirled around us, urging us to slow, to breathe, to hold on as we drew together.  Rhys twirled me once–so slowly, so gently–and drew me to him, my back to his chest.

A lover’s embrace, the music seemed to whisper in my mind, but I brushed the thought away, tucked it in the corner of my mind with my common sense as I placed my hand over the one Rhys had settled on my waist, as he drew me still closer and caught my tattooed hand to draw it up, up, up, skimming our hands of shadow and starlight over my stomach, my breasts, to lay at the hollow where my collarbone met my neck.

An embrace: of shadow and light, of night and stars and something–something else.  I arched against him, in that embrace, letting my head fall back to rest against his shoulder, and as the last traces of the music ebbed and flowed, down on the breeze and out to the sea at dawn, there was the lightest brush of lips against my temple.

Gentle, and warm.

I tilted my head, as that last note rang out in our minds, and looked up into Rhys’s face.

Beautiful. He was so beautiful–still the most beautiful male I’d ever seen.

I felt something stir in my chest, felt that bond tighten between us once more–thought I saw my own blue-gray eyes looking up at me for the briefest flicker of time–and my tattooed hand was flaring between us, a brilliant white against the petals and the darkness, an echo of Rhys’s eyes and the stars above.

In the next moment, I was myself again, and we were standing, locked together, in the center of the ballroom, back on the mountain insignia of the Night Court.

Into the silence, eyes brimming with light, Rhys whispered for me alone, “Thank you. I…thank you.”

I tightened my grip on his hands, still on me, and answered the only way I could in that moment: with a smile.

He tightened his arms around me, a brief squeeze–as if he didn’t want to let go–, and then he released me, stepping away and letting those wings of darkness and color vanish once more.

Bowing, he said, “The bargain is sealed. I’ll show you to your rooms now, Feyre.”

I simply nodded, feeling the tiredness creeping through my bones now as the high of the dance wore off and I remembered what came before this wedding night.  The wedding, and Tamlin, and my own panic.

How would I ever fix this?

Rhys led me down a series of hallways to a bedroom on the main floor.  He paused at the door to my room, remarking, “Your room is next to mine, and we have a connecting door should you need me.  I will not use it otherwise, but this way any of my court members foolish enough to get ideas will think more than twice before trying anything with you.”

He looked back at me, raising an eyebrow in question: okay?

I couldn’t argue with that, and if he really wouldn’t use the connecting door other than when I needed him…I remembered his words again: I am not your enemy, Feyre.

“Okay,” I said.  

Rhys nodded, and opened the door. When I stepped inside, my breath was stolen away. Again.

I really wasn’t going to be a prisoner here, it seemed. I truly wasn’t Under the Mountain and I…

I wouldn’t feel trapped here.

Because unlike my room at the Spring Court, my bedroom here was spacious, with a large bed, huge open windows looking out on that sea of stars, and above–above me was a large skylight showing the endless skies.  

When I woke up from my nightmares, I could never feel trapped here, not with that open sky above me, around me.

I felt something loosen in my chest, and I thought I might start crying.

Trying to lock up the sob in my chest, I turned my head slightly so Rhys, standing behind me, could hear.  “It’s…it’s perfect.  Thank you.”

Thank you for not locking me away, thank you for not making me feel trapped, thank you for this gift of a sky.  

Rhys placed a hand on my shoulder and gripped it tightly. In understanding, in shared pain.  I had only been locked away in the mountain for several months, but he–he had been trapped there for 50 years.

The horror I felt for him in that moment…

I lifted my tattooed hand and laid it over his fingers, squeezing them gently. The light streaming along the petals of my tattoo flared again.

And a question that had been tickling the back of my mind for most of the night spilled from my mouth.  “Why did you take off my glove at the wedding?” I blurted, slipping out from under his hand as I turned around.

Rhys lowered his hand to his side, watching me speculatively.

“Because,” he finally said, voice dark, “it was wrong. Those fools at the Spring Court wanted to erase your sacrifices; they wanted everything to be perfect and turn you into a doll.” He spat the word, as if it were disgusting.  His eyes were brimming with shadows, with anger.  “They dared to–”

He stopped.  Took a breath. And then the anger was extinguished, the shadows gone, his calm restored.  “They wanted to make you pretty and helpless, their perfect, harmless beauty.”  He reached up a hand, as if to touch my hair–but dropped it to his side.  “But they’re wrong,” he whispered.  “You are not a helpless doll; you are at least the equal of every one of them.”

I stared at him. Blinked. Swallowed.  Felt something beneath my skin roar in agreement, but I shoved it down.

“And what about the light show?” I asked, lifting my hand and waving my fingers for him to see. Anything to get off this subject; anything so I didn’t have to think of Tamlin or how much Rhys’s words hurt–how true they felt.

“Ah,” he breathed. “That.” He stepped forward and picked up my tattooed palm between us, tracing his finger along the vines, the glistening petals of shadow and starlight.

I watched him trace it, frozen as the fire from his touch raced up my arm.

“This,” he murmured, looking up from my arm and into my eyes, “was a reminder: that light cannot exist without darkness.  And that darkness can still exist in the light–that it never truly goes away. That you can live beyond the darkness and see the light again, even if that darkness is still in you.”

He paused, cocking his head to the side, and smiled. “And, Feyre,” he purred, “it is a reminder that without darkness”–he skimmed the dark ink on my skin, and it was like he was brushing my soul instead, so intently was I listening–“we cannot see the stars.”

Cauldron boil it, I was going to cry.  I didn’t want him to see, couldn’t let him see, so I just said, “Good night, Rhys.”

Rhys dropped my hand and stepped away, turning for the door.  I was going to break down; I was going to shatter and drown in this darkness, and there was nothing I could do.  He was wrong, wrong about the light in the dark, because I couldn’t see it.

Rhys paused on the threshold to his room, the connecting door half-open.

“Oh, and Feyre darling,” he crooned, “did you still need help with removing that wedding dress? I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Darkness forgotten–for the second at least–I saw a flash of red.

“Still not my husband, you prick!” I yelled, chucking a pillow at his head.  

Rhys didn’t even dodge–only laughed as he stepped through to his own room.  “Semantics, my dear,” he said tauntingly.

And then, more casually, “See you in the morning for breakfast.”

I tried to throw another pillow at him, but the door was already closed and Rhys was gone. For now at least. Until breakfast.

Oh Cauldron, the High Lord of the Night Court was going to kill me.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I let the tears fall silently as I stripped off my torn wedding gown and the terrible day as well.  Kicking the hideous gown into a corner, I fell into the bed and tried to breathe.

Tamlin, Tamlin, Tamlin. My heart was cracking, that black ichor spilling out, filling my heart, my lungs, me.

I was going to say no, I was going to say no. I couldn’t do it; I’m not good enough, never good enough.  I had too much darkness, too much blood on my hands.

Liar, murderer, worthless human.

I turned my head on my pillow, gasping in air as I looked first at my tattooed hand–still shimmering and dark all at once–and then beyond, into the star-kissed skies of the Night Court.

Without darkness, we cannot see the stars.

I tried to swallow the ball that was suddenly in my throat.  I had wanted to tell him that I had too much darkness, though, and couldn’t too much black cancel out the stars?  Couldn’t it swallow them whole, swallow me whole?

I had brought light to everyone else, but I was still lost in that darkness, still locked away–alone–in my cell Under the Mountain.

Alone, alone, alone…

A caress of warmth came along that bond, embracing me, soothing me, lulling me to sleep. But as my eyes began to close and my mind to wander, I saw those gems of starlight shimmering against the darkness of my tattoo. And in that last moment, hovering on the threshold between sleeping and awakening, I could see both: both the darkness and the light.

And then my vision was blurred and they were swirling together, coming together and apart in their perpetual dance.

A dance beneath the stars…

KnB One-shot: (flustered) Hanamiya x (oblivious) Reader

Words: 1793

Characters: Hanamiya Makoto, reader (female)

A/N: when a nonnie requested a flustered!Hanamiya with his crush, I was blank. Like, how this guy could be flustered?? At first this was going to be a short thing but I felt that if I had to explain how and why he was a nervous mess around his crush, I needed more words. So here I am, with my first one-shot for the blog lol. I made the girl like he likes girls: a stupid one. But I don’t think he likes literally stupid girls, just oblivious and innocent girls. And! I headcanon Hanamiya having a crush on a kouhai. Enjoy the reading!

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“(Not a) Daring Woman” Jungkook/You

sorry this took so long, and it ended up being pretty short >.< (it was a case of ‘this is as good as it’s gonna get’ and the fact that Daring Woman kinda bummed me out, so don’t be looking for a happy ending..sorry anon lol)

Being with Jungkook, used to be easy, like breathing. Now it’s like someone shoved a brick down your throat and is waiting for the same results.

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Troublesome Twins (Akiyoshi Zaizen)

Prompt: “Imagine person A of your OTP is pregnant and having to put up with some kicks and squirms from the baby which are rather bothersome to A. B then sings to the baby which seems to calm it down or rather lull it to sleep.”

I was so inspired yesterday that I wrote this lovely Akiyoshi fic all morning long.

:) I would write more but my hand is all cramped up lols so, enjoy!


The end of the work day was at last approaching. Each minute seemed to tick by slower and slower; not that it would matter anyway. Your husband, and also your boss, Akiyoshi, behaved in his usual work tyrant manner.  Demanding your completed article before the day’s end. It was already long overdue. Since Seasonelle went to print tonight, and published tomorrow morning… It wasn’t a completely absurd demand. Another glance at the clock told you that was definitely not happening. You couldn’t help but groan aloud, the desire to bang your head against your desk was strong. If you could reach it you definitely would have.

You glare down at your 8 month pregnant belly. Damn them. If it wasn’t for their rowdy antics all day long the article would have finished ages ago. But alas, the soccer game they seemed to be playing inside kept you distracted. Additionally heartburn, constant need to pee, and the desire to cry at almost everything. The list was endless, and the joys of pregnancy seemed to stop ages ago. Perhaps it was time to take Akiyoshi up on the early maternity leave offer. Your pride can go to hell! Who the hell thought it was a good idea to work right up until your due date anyway? Oh that’s right, your foolish past self. The idiot with a ridiculous righteous obligation of pulling your own fair share. Your feminist side who didn’t want to let having babies keep you back. Well damn them. And damn that inner feminist goddess voice. None of those assholes have to birth babies.

“Kelly?” You swivel around in your chair, thank god for those, and see your worried husband. The one word from their father is enough to set off another round of painful rowdy kicks.

“Oh Aki, I haven’t finished yet.” You massage your belly hoping to calm them. But it doesn’t help, not even out yet and they are already causing a ruckus. Akiyoshi’s hand twitches at his side, like he wants to join yours. But he is still in boss mode so he doesn’t dare.

“It’s fine. I’ll finish for you. Go on ahead home.” A quick glance around the office shows you that everyone else has already left. Not surprising they all left without saying goodbye. They have been tip toeing around you for a month now, too afraid to ‘anger the beast’. Assholes.

“But-”

“No. I could tell you weren’t feeling well today. Go. Home.” Akiyoshi stresses and growls out the last two words. Damn he’s serious.

“Alright then, thank you.” You pucker your lips hoping for a kiss and can see the hesitation in his eyes, but it’s only for a moment. Akiyoshi swoops forward with a gentle kiss, before helping you stand up. You sway a little, still not adjusted to your new balancing act. The rambunctious kicking tykes are not helping whatsoever. Akiyoshi wraps an arm around you best he could to help steady.

“Are you okay?” Your poor conflicted husband, you know he’s afraid to let you go home alone now.

“I’ll be fine, they’re just rowdy today.” You smile, hoping it is convincing enough, and grab your purse. With any luck you can leave before he changes his mind. Waiting a few hours in discomfort so Akiyoshi can walk home with you is the last thing you want to do.
“Aki please, I’ll have dinner all ready for you, and I just feel like soaking in a hot bath. Maybe it will calm them down so I can sleep for once tonight.” You squish your belly against him so you can reach, and nuzzle your head into his broad chest . Your short height and large pregnant belly has made simple tasks more difficult lately. You couldn’t even kiss your own husband for goodness sake!

“Fine, but keep your phone on you just in case. And call me if anything, and I mean anything happens.” Akiyoshi hugs you tight as best he could reach, and growls his reluctant words out.

“Mine died earlier, I forgot to charge it last night.” You could hear another growl from above you, you’re surprised he doesn’t reprimand you about it. Instead he makes you take his phone with you and reluctantly sends you on your way.

Keep reading

ireblogstuff-andineedalife  asked:

Neko!Pastel!Dan getting spanked for teasing Punk!Daddy!Phil. Can there be like choking,pain kink, and just overall kinky Love ur blog btw 😊

I am all for this lol xx thank toy ily
(Sidenote- I’ve written this seven times, but my computer crashes when I try to post it)

(Other side note- feeling v subby right now someone come talk to me?)

(Other- other- side note- a ruined orgasm is like edging, but you pull away right before they cum, and they do anyway, but they don’t get any pleasure, they’re still hard, and it feels like overstim xx)

—————

-All day, Phil’s been too busy to play with Dan, and now he’s in the middle of a live show. Dan would go interrupt, but he’s not allowed on live shows anymore, since last time when he “accidentally” called Phil daddy. Surely, if he comes onto the live show, Phil will pay attention to him? Dan sneaks past the office and into his/Phil’s room, softly shutting the door behind him. He strips out of his tee shirt and sweatpants, replacing them with one of Phil’s favorite outfits on Dan; a white crop top, thigh highs, pastel purple booty shorts, and a matching pale flower crown crookedly perched on his ears. To top it all off, Dan grabs one of his grape lollipops (aesthetic) and goes to the office, carefully opening the door and leaning against the doorframe.

-”Phil,” he calls quietly.

-When Phil notices him, his eyes darken. For a moment, Phil turns his attention back to the screen with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, that was just Dan.” He pauses. “You want him to come on camera?”

-”Fine with me,” Dan purrs, and instead of getting into the second chair Phil gestures at, Dan slings himself into Phil’s lap, legs over one arm rest, back against the other, right arm across Phil’s shoulder, left holding onto his lollipop. “Hey everybody, what’s up?”

-”Kitten,” Phil whispers in Dan’s ear, too quietly to be picked up by the camera’s built in microphone. “You’re on thin ice.”

-”Why?” Dan asks with feigned innocence, punctuating it by rolling his lollipop over his lips.

-Instead of responding, Phil keeps interacting with the chat, talking to them about this and that. He stiffens when Dan starts innocently shifting his weight in Phil’s lap, and grabs Dan’s upper thigh in what seems innocent to everyone, but is actually firm and clearly a warning for Dan. Ever a tease, Dan just presses himself further into Phil’s lap and sucks in a more suggestive way instead of taking it down a notch.

-By the end of the live show, Phil is radiating anger and dominance, nails long since having begun to dig into Dan’s thigh. “Daniel,” Phil growls upon shutting his laptop. “You are in lots of trouble. Bed. Now.”

-Dan can’t hold back a whimper as he scampers to their room, flinging himself onto the bed and stretching out, still rolling what’s left of his lollipop over his tongue. The first thing Phil does when he gets into the room is yank away Dan’s lollipop and toss it in the trash a couple feet away.

-“Such a slut that you couldn’t wait, hmm?” Phil asks, stripping off his black tee to reveal brightly colored tattoos. Dan just whines, tail curling around himself. “You know I’m going to punish you, kitten. You were very naughty, teasing me during my live show.”

-”Punish me then,” Dan breathes, propping himself up on his elbows and looking over Phil’s body, licking his lips when he sees the bulge in Phil’s jeans.

-Milliseconds later, Phil is on top of Dan, pinning him down and biting his neck. “I intend to, Kitten.” His hands run up Dan’s sides until he reaches the hem of the crop top, and moves away from Dan’s neck to lift it off and toss it to the side. Then, Phil moves his attention lower to Dan’s nipples, taking one into his mouth and biting it gently, rolling the other between his fingers. Once Dan’s gasping and reaching for Phil’s hair, he switches sides, making Dan writhe against the bed and buck his hips upward for friction. Phil pulls away from Dan’s chest with a smirk, and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Dan’s boy shorts to ease them off, but leaving the thigh highs and flower crown alone.

- Without hesitation, Phil starts jerking Dan off, occasionally nipping at Dan’s inner thighs. “Daddy, close-” Dan gasps, wrapping his tail around Phil to hold him there. Right as he’s starting to come, Phil pulls away, and Dan chokes off in a small sob, cumming, but not getting any relief. “Why didn’t- fuck, please, Daddy, make me feel better.”

-”Language,” Phil reprimands, slapping Dan’s thigh in warning. “It doesn’t matter why, all you need to know is that I’m not through with you yet. Can you get me the lube, Kitten?” Somehow, Dan manages to get it out of the drawer and pass it to Phil, who coats his fingers in it. Teasingly slowly, Phil pushes two fingers in at once, watching Dan’s face for any signs of discomfort, and scissors them to make room for a third. Dan whimpers when he adds it, so Phil presses a kiss to Dan’s waist, right up against his sharp hipbone. “Shh, doing so well.” Then Phil starts hunting out Dan’s prostate, finding it quickly from experience, and starts rubbing it relentlessly, smirking and leaning forward to breathe warm air over the head of Dan’s cock. “I’m going to suck you, baby,” he warns, and then takes Dan into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. Not too long of a time passes before Dan’s close again, his hands buried in Phil’s hair, hips snapping upward to essentially fuck Phil’s mouth. As soon as Dan’s cumming again, Phil pulls out his fingers and moves his head away, prying Dan’s fingers free from his head with his clean hand. “I want to fuck you,” Phil drawls, running his fingers through the cum on Dan’s stomach. “But I don’t know if you’ve earned it. Kitten, why don’t you beg for my cock?”

-”Daddy, please, need your cock in me so bad. So desperate, such a slut for you. Fuck me, please, Daddy. Put your thick, hard cock in me and come inside.”

-”I dunno,” Phil says in a sing song voice, despite starting to spread lube on his cock.

-”Please, Daddy!” Dan screams, fists tightly clenched in the sheets. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk! Choke me and make me so full of your cock. Daddy, I need it, please! Use me! Use me like you’re personal fuck toy, please! DADDY!”

-At his last word, Phil pushes in, instantly setting a punishing pace. Each thrust sends the headboard banging against the wall, Dan moaning loudly and once again encircling Phil with his tail in an unconscious effort to make him stay this time. Phil reaches up one hand to close around Dan’s throat, applying pressure until Dan moans loudly enough to drown out the sounds of skin on skin and wood on plaster.

-”Such a whore for me, aren’t you kitten?” Somehow, Dan manages to nod. His hips stutter off the bed desperately, overstimulated and needy. “Going to come for me one more time? Cum from my cock?” Phil asks, staring at the cum on Dan’s stomach. “Put your fingers in it. Good boy. Now suck it off, clean yourself up.” Dan struggles to swallow around Phil’s hand, but obeys. By the time Phil’s close, Dan’s eyes have gone glazed over, and he keeps gasping out little “ah, ah, ah”s and “Daddy”s. “Kitten, I’m gonna come. Come with me?”

-Dan comes in silence, back arching off the bed and screaming silently. His clenching tightly, accompanied with the overwhelmingly erotic sight, are what finally drive Phil over the edge, coming with a low moan.

——————–

I didn’t write any in, but esp. after a scene like this- AFTERCARE IS VERY FUCKING IMPORTANT KIDS DON’T SKIP IT

Send me your sins

How To Restitch An Alpacasso Mouth: A Tutorial

Hey! Today I’m going to teach you how to restitch an Alpacasso mouth. This is useful to know if you have an older alpaca whose mouth stitching has become loose from wear and tear, wasn’t stitched properly in the first place, or simply if you don’t like your alpaca’s current mouth stitching and think you could do a better job! Sloppy mouth stitching personally drives me nuts so it was either learn how to do this or keep buying more of the same alpaca in hopes of getting one with a better mouth. Obviously, I opted for the former. But anyways, let’s just get right to it!

*Disclaimer: By making this tutorial I am not saying that this is the only way to restitch an Alpacasso mouth and I am not responsible for any personal mishaps or failure. Attempt this only at your own discretion.

Things You Will Need:

1. An alpacasso in need of a makeover

2. A seam ripper

3. Embroidery thread (in the color of your choice)

4. Crafting needle

5. Scissors (not pictured, whoops!)

6. Paper (optional)

7. Pen or pencil (optional)

Step 1:

*Disclaimer: You will NEED to open a seam for this. Sorry I don’t know of any way around this but if you do please let me know!! Also keep in mind that this is not the same way Amuse stitches the original mouths! I’ve tried doing it their way, but whenever I attempted it the little loop that holds the thread at the bottom middle point of the mouth always seemed to get compromised if I stitched it too close (which you have to do if you don’t want that snaggletooth look). Please do not move on with the tutorial unless you are okay with this variation.

Alright, so you will need to open a seam and create a hole big enough to stick your hand into so that you can fish the needle and thread back and forth through the muzzle. I suggest using a seam ripper to cut open the seam going down along the back, it is the easiest and least offensive way to get access to the mouth. 

Step 2: 

Next you will need to remove some stuffing so that your thread doesn’t get completely caught in it and also to make the actual stitching easier. 

Here is a picture of what the muzzle looks from the inside. Pull out at least half of the mouth stuffing through that little hole, but not all of it!! You CAN do this without any stuffing inside the muzzle if you’re concerned about your thread getting stuck in the poly-fil or would like to tie off your thread as closely as possible, however, keeping the muzzle semi-stuffed makes sewing the mouth design a lot easier (there is less chance of an uneven mouth). 

Step 3: 

The last step before we get to stitching is to remove the original mouth! Just use a pair of scissors to cut through the middle of each section and pull out the thread (the top left piece will need to be pulled out from the inside because of the knot).

lol so disturbing 

Step 4 (optional):

It is a good idea to practice your design beforehand and see what it will look like on your alpaca before you permanently sew it on. In order to do this you will need to draw your design out onto a piece of paper and then cut it out (around the lines) and place it on top of the muzzle. I don’t suggest drawing directly onto the fabric because it will compromise the end result, so this is the best way to figure out placement. Secondly, do some test runs on a scrap piece of fabric (I have a picture tutorial on how to do this at the end of this post). 

Step 5:

**Before we begin stitching, I wanted to mention that embroidery thread is made up of 6 individual pieces. I find that to be a bit too thick in comparison to the original Alpacasso mouth so I pull out two strands and use 4 individual pieces instead, but how many strands you use is completely up to your preference!

Now to begin, get your needle and thread ready by making a knot on one end - I wrap it around my finger to create a thicker knot (you can look up tutorials on how to do this) - and then start by fishing it through from inside (always through the little hole in the muzzle) at the top left point of the nose. 

Then take the thread and measure out your next point by pulling it straight across like this:

Once you’ve picked where you want your nose to end, take your needle and stitch it back through the hole in the muzzle to the other side. Then take it back through the hole once more (always through the little hole in the muzzle!!!), make a stitch at the bottom of the middle line of the mouth, and pull it out to the front like so: 

Now take your needle and go underneath the thread of the nose FROM THE TOP. Here is an example:

You can pull the thread down until you get your desired shape and then stitch it through to the other side in the same way as before. You end up with something like this:

Your next stitch will be from the inside, out at the farthest left point of the mouth (my bad, I must have forgotten to take a picture of this). You will then move onto the next point of the mouth which is the second most left point a little farther down from the previous stitch.

(dat pose)

You can get an idea of how the left side of the mouth will look by pricking the needle through the fabric at the second point and pulling it up to the bottom of the middle line. If you are satisfied, stitch it through to the other side. Here is what you should have so far:

The next stitch will be from the inside, out through the bottom of the middle line. DO NOT stitch it through the same hole that you made in your third stitch, but directly underneath. It should look like this: 

Then finish the line by stitching it through the same hole you made in the stitch before.

Sorry I skipped another picture!! You’ll then stitch from the inside, out through the farthest right point of the mouth. 

Then simply repeat the steps you did for the left side to finish off the right side.

(hayyyyyy)

Once you’ve stitched your thread through the last point, pull it out through the small hole in the muzzle and tie it off with a knot! Don’t worry about there being a lot of extra thread, once you restuff the muzzle it will keep your design from unraveling. Now all you have to do is restuff the rest of your alpaca and use a blind stitch to close up the hole you made on the back (preferably with white embroidery thread) and then you’re done!

Step 6:

Show off your mouth stitching skills!

LOL don’t mind him looking like a monkey. I didn’t stuff his head right so his left eye looks wonky but it’s okay, he’s my experiment alpaca (◎ヮ◎)

Thanks for reading!! If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to message me!

Mouth Stitching Steps (extra):

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

ey can I maybe have a Fred one shot? basically I have this idea where the girl goes to a quidditch after party with someone else even though her and Fred really like each other, and the guy gets too touchy-feely and Fred tries to fight him, but the girl tries to stop them and Fred accidentally punches her? lol if you need it my names crissy

Ayyyy, here it is! I really hope you like it! x Thank you for the request! (btw haha you change the name Mark to any you like, it’s just the first I could come up with haha lol) x


“Come on already, Crissy!” Mark said, sounding slightly annoyed. You had only taken a second to put your coat over your shoulders since the corridors of Hogwarts were quite cold today. “I’m here, I’m here, don’t worry” you replied flatly and walked next to him, your arms crossed. The way he smirked at you left you rather irritated than flattered – it suddenly became a mystery to you why you had agreed to go with him to the Gryffindor VS Ravenclaw Quidditch after party. He had asked you 2 days ago and for some reason, you had agreed, perhaps out of the pure surprise of being invited to accompany someone.  Right now, you could have punched yourself for your own stupidity, but you felt a bit more relaxed when you finally entered the Gryffindor tower together. The smell of butterbeer was filling your nostrils immediately and people were chatting and shouting, it all seemed really nicely organized and decent. Gryffindor had won, so everything was garnished in red and golden, little flags and someone had put confetti of the same color all over the place. Harry was the first of the team you spotted; he was surrounded by Ron and Hermione, looking quite cheerful. As you waved at him, someone put his arm around your waist tightly. “So, what about we grab some butterbeer, baby?” Mark asked you in a strange, slimy sounding voice. His arm squeezed your waist once again as you didn’t reply for a moment. “Um, okay, sure” you smiled back and gently pulled his arm away from your hips, leaving him quite startled for a second. You wouldn’t let him do anything to you and you were keen to set boundaries – as long as he wasn’t overdoing anything, you were quite convinced you could survive the party and have a bit of fun as well. As you two got yourself a butterbeer, you noticed someone smiling cheekily at you. It was Fred Weasley, standing beside his brother in his Gryffindor sweater – he had seemingly looked at you for quite a while and seeing him actually, unmistakably, giving you sweet glimpses made you blush slightly. Mark had probably noticed that you were looking at someone else and turned around, watching out for the person who had distracted you from him. “Mark, it’s nothing, I was just looking at the decorations-“you said, but he cut you off. “It’s one of the Weasley twins, right? He’s been looking at you quite often, I’ve realized. He’d better keep his nasty glimpse off of you, that ginger git” Mark said, laughing slightly toward the end of his sentence, turning to you. It seemed as if he thought that what he had said had impressed you, but you were utterly opposed. “I think it’s better if you focus on something else now, Mark, just relax” – You looked at him, your eyes squinting a bit as you saw that he probably didn’t get what you were trying to say. Without replying, his hand was once again on your waist with an ungraceful thump, whereupon he pulled you away. You tried to catch a last glimpse at Fred – what you saw looked like an irritated, disgusted face of his.

“Listen, Mark, I really wanted to talk to Angelina, could we just-“you said, turning your face away from him for the second time now, trying to avoid his eyes. “Why are you so stubborn?” Mark asked. His hand grabbed yours and you immediately drew it back with a quick swish. “I’m not stubborn, I just don’t feel like doing stuff right now, I just want to talk to-“you hissed now, but his hands were once again on your waist, this time actually clinging to it. “But you agreed to come here with me” – something about Mark’s voice was slightly menacing and he didn’t let go of your waist, no matter how hard you tried to push his hands away without making it turn into a violent scene. He came nearer, his breath hitting your face, so you turned away again, but he had you in his grip. Trying to escape was useless – a moment later, he had put his lips on your neck. How could he simply start doing this in the middle of the Common Room? Some were starting to give you weird glimpses now. “Mark, stop it” you said angrily, trying to pull away once more. Mark did not react, but only brought his own lips nearer to yours. “For heaven’s sake, Mark, stop it now” you repeated.  You tried to jolt him away when he actually touched your lips, but he pulled you even closer. Now, he certainly had crossed a line. “Mark, I told you” you said angrily, trying to catch his gaze, but you were interrupted by someone pulling Mark away from you. “Can’t you see that she doesn’t like what you’re doing to her, you dimwit? Stop it now” – Fred Weasley glared at the boy that had just tried to seduce you in vain. You slightly blushed when he entered the scene – you had always liked him a lot, but both of you have tended to be rather shy toward each other. “And how on earth are you supposed to know about that, Weasley? Get out of my business, you git. She’s with me, so you better bugger off” Mark growled before turning to you again. Internally, you were so thankful to Fred for rescuing you, otherwise it might have ended with you trying to escape his grip awkwardly and shouting things you normally wouldn’t dare say out loud in public. Fred’s temper was rising as he saw him coming close to you again with his hands tightly on your waist. “I said stop it” you hissed, but Mark was behaving blatantly ignorant toward your words again. “Are you really that thick? Listen to her” Fred said, laughing slightly at his dumbness and pulling Mark away from you again. “You stupid Weasley, think you know everything better. Probably never had a girl before; you know nothing about them. Who would want to be with a Weasley anyway?” Mark responded, now actually turning to Fred to face him directly. He came nearer, tall as he was, and glared at Fred. “Mark, stuff it, stop saying such things” you said determined, but Fred’s cheeks had already reddened. “I’m very certain that being a Weasley is better than being a disrespectful dimwit, thank you” he responded playfully arrogant and glared at his opponent. It was then that Mark put his hand on his arm, pushing him back slightly. “Mark, stop it, now!” you exclaimed and ran toward him before trying to pull him away from Fred, who was now visibly full of anger. He pushed him back a bit stronger. Mark’s face darkened; it was like he was actually going off like a firework, and suddenly, he was thrusting his hands against Fred’s chest with such temper that he almost fell down. Fred seemed equally enraged and walked towards him, butting him back as well. Some people were turning their heads in surprise and desire to gape – it was unbelievable to you. “Boys, stop it, are you crazy?” you hissed and eagerly ran toward the scene. What happened next stunned you and everyone else, for you had chosen a very inconvenient moment to step in and try to make Fred and Mark stop fighting each other. Fred had actually reached back to punch his opponent, but when you tried to separate the two brawlers, you happened to be the one hit by this strong punch of his. You stumbled back, putting your hands over your nose. The thump had left your whole face aching now. “Oh-my god, I am so, so s-sorry, Crissy, I didn’t mean to do that, I-I am s-so sorry” Fred gasped, looking utterly terrified. Some people were laughing at you – all you could think of was running away. Without looking at anyone, you left the scene as quickly as possible, heading for the girl’s bathroom.

A single tear was rolling down your face as you watched yourself in the soiled mirror of the bathroom. Your face was still aching, but what saddened you most was that the night was ruined and you had been involved in this pathetic escalation. Although you had really appreciated Fred helping you out, you were uncertain about him. Of course, he hadn’t hit you on purpose, you knew that, but you were scared your relationship with him was now wrecked completely. Blood was streaming from your nose down to your chin and you bent over the sink to clean your face, but the blood kept flowing, dropping onto your clothes and hands. Suddenly, you heard someone panting and running toward the sinks. “Crissy, there you are” Fred gasped, coming nearer. You doubted that anyone had ever seen him blushing like this before. “Hello, Fred” you said, trying to wipe away the tears and the blood. “Oh, gosh, that looks dreadful, I am so, so sorry” he stammered. It was like he was carefully asking if he could come nearer with his glimpse. “Don’t worry, Fred, I know you didn’t do it on purpose” you replied, trying to sound relaxed, but your voice trembled. “You’re right about that, but still, I should have paid so much more attention. I could fix it for you, if you want. It’s the least thing I can do, I suppose. Only if you’re okay with that, of course” he said. The look on his face was incredibly soft as he drew out his wand. You nodded and gave him a shy, uncertain smile, ashamed of looking at him with tear-swollen eyes, before he flicked it. As a matter of fact, the bleeding stopped. “Wow, thank you” you said. It was surprising how he was able to do a charm like this. “Crissy, please, I think there’s absolutely no need to thank me. Look at your clothes, you want me to fix them too?” he asked. You nodded, and a moment later, the blood stains vanished from your sleeves. “Thanks, Fred” you smiled shyly. Something about his presence touched you; it felt good to have him looking out and caring for you. “Again, I am so, so sorry, I just completely lost my temper with that Mark. I didn’t want to ruin your evening, Crissy. Please forgive me” he explained, dreadfully ashamed of himself. “I really appreciated you helping me out, Fred” you said, trying to wipe the tears away again, “and I understand, Mark truly is an idiot. I don’t know why I agreed to go with him anyway. I just did it, I never would have expected him to be that much of a jerk” Fred chuckled in relief over your words. “Good to know we think the same way about him. But it’s not your fault he freaked out” he replied. His nose reddened again toward the end of the sentence, for he knew it had been somehow his behavior that had caused the fight. “I only lose my temper when I consider it so blatantly dimwitted that it could make me cry, though” he commented after a short period of silence. “Losing your temper about Mark was reasonable, then” you replied. Both of you looked at each other, whereupon a smile traced your lips. “Thank you for stepping in, Fred. It might surprise you if I say this, but I would have preferred to go with you to the party” – “I was actually planning on asking you, but then George told me that Mark had boasted about how you had agreed to go with him. I need to be quicker next time, I suppose” he replied hastily, scratching his head. “Oh, r-really? I didn’t know that. Yes, next time, maybe” – You were both surprised and flattered to hear this, but you would have probably reacted a lot different if you hadn’t been in this dreadful state. “Do you need a hug?” Fred asked suddenly. You looked at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. “Y-Yes, I-er, maybe, yes” you mumbled and a moment later, Fred had put his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back. The smell of his sweater filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly, for something just made it impossible for you to stop crying – whether it was Fred’s affection that touched you or the distress over what had happened, you did not know. You smiled, blushing, and wiped away your tears once again when he let go of you. “Thank you, Fred, that was really sweet of you” you mumbled in between several sobs. “I don’t know what’s going on, I’m so s-sorry” you added, smiling. Fred seemed a little awkward, but he chuckled softly; his last intention was it to make you feel uncomfortable. “There’s no need to be sorry, Crissy, don’t worry about that. You’ve put up with a lot tonight“

The tears had dried, but your nose was still reddish from the sobbing as you made your way down the corridor again, but this time, with Fred by your side. He had offered you to be your company for the walk to your dorm. “Seems like they’re still celebrating” you said when dimmed noises where slightly echoing in the deserted hallway leading to the Common Room. “Yes, they’re ruthless. I hope we can get you through there without any trouble” Fred replied. It made you smile that he put more priority into brining you to your dorm than about the reactions he would most likely be confronted with. Without thinking about it, your hand reached out for his. It was just a light-hearted movement controlled by intuition, it was nothing intrusive, it was just you reaching out for his hand as a sign of affection. Fred took it slowly, looking surprised. A smile traced your lips when you walked on, his hand surrounding yours. At the little stairway that led to the Fat Lady, you stopped for a moment and smiled at him. “A Weasley? Hush, get inside right now, you two lovebirds” the Fat Lady suddenly groused, whereupon you chuckled. “We’re deeply sorry” you mumbled after Fred had given her the password.

Noises and music were now filling up the room; people still seemed to be celebrating. You walked closely to Fred, his hand still in yours, and avoided looking around. Some people were staring at you, or perhaps, they were wondering what Fred was doing by your side - some obviously muttered things under their breathes, but you knew that it would be a matter of weeks until most rumors would have been cleared away. You only turned around once, shortly before reaching your dorm. Mark had left the scene, as it seemed.

Fred and you had withdrawn to your empty dorm now. He was standing in the doorway when you faced him, smiling. “Thank you for everything, Fred. Everything was a bit… stressful, but thank you for having taken care of me” you said shyly, now looking into his brown eyes. “Like I said” – Fred chuckled and looked at his feet for a moment – “There’s no need to thank me. I’ve caused you enough trouble already. I’m surprised by your tolerance, if a guy hit me in the face, we’d most likely be enemies for a life time” Both of you chuckled at his words. “You didn’t hit me on purpose and telling Mark to bugger off was a very decent thing to do. Let’s just regard it as the beginning of something better; perhaps, it was destined to happen” you said, whereupon Fred shrugged sarcastically. “Accidentally punching someone is a very weird way of getting to know each other, but I guess I’ll have another story to tell, then” – Before you knew, he had put his arms around you once again, chuckling. “Have a good night, Fred. See you tomorrow” you mumbled after letting go of him with a bright smile. “Have a good night too, Crissy. Get well… And-if you’re interested, I’m free tomorrow, I could make it up to you by taking you somewhere. Drinks are on me, of course” he smirked.

He was clearly referring to taking you to Hogsmeade and it sent shiver down your spine to know that he had more or less asked you out. “I think I’ll survive, Fred, don’t worry. I’m definitely interested” you said teasingly, smiling at him. “Tomorrow it is, then?” he asked. You gave him a nod and smiled “Very certainly, yes”, whereupon he came closer. “Brilliant. I will make it all up to you, I promise” – the light in his eyes made you chuckle at him. “Thank you, Fred” you mumbled before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.