long wool coat

Of Snowstorms and Men (Bucky AU Oneshot)

Characters: reader x Bucky, OC Tara (mentioned)

Request of sorts from this post by @whothehellisbella , summary/prompt by @novaya-model:

Hot single dad hires a broke babysitter who happens to need a date to their ex’s wedding and the two get stuck in a snow storm on the drive up there and have to cuddle in the small, tight backseat to keep warm

Warnings: mild swearing? Mentions of cheating and sexy times.

 Word Count: 3.2k (yikes. heh.)

Tags are at the bottom. Permanent list is CLOSED I’M SORRY. 

A/N: Holy crap, you guys. I haven’t written so much so fast in a really really long time. Like, 3k in 2 hours. Whoa. I’m a slow writer usually. I saw Bella’s post though and my fingers just started flying!! This is basically just a huge jumble of tropes and I really hope you like it. Any feedback and comments are appreciated! Love you guys!! 

Full Masterlist


Three Weeks Ago:

“No offense I hope, but…you seem a bit older than most of the other applicants,” said the man who sat before you.

“None taken, I promise. Trust me, I never thought I’d be applying for a nanny job in my late 20s because I can’t get a job even with a Master’s degree,” you replied, laughing nervously.

“Understood,” he nodded. “So, what makes you a good fit for this position, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked, tapping a pen lazily on your resume before him.

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anonymous asked:

I CANT BELIEVE HOW MUCH HARRY'S STYLE HAS CHANGED. From wearing popped collars and those huge purple tennis shoes to stylish, one of kind leopard print coats with satin button up tops, and don't forget the gold sparkly boots. holy hell this boy has blossomed into a beautiful butterfly with an extraordinary and unique taste in style. This subject is extremely special to me.

do yourself a favor and don’t think about teeny tiny little 16yo baby legume harold looking into his future and seeing current harry. standing there in his frankly alarmingly enormous pants and giant ass grape shoes and pop-collared polo shirts and being met with this literally stunning vision of himself at 21. tall and lean and tattooed, majestic mermaid hair falling past his shoulders, draped in the most beautifully crafted clothes anyone could ask for - florals, animal prints, satin, silk, velvet, exquisite embroidery. rings and bracelets and pearl necklaces. hats galore. berets, even! boots made of gold and glitter and pink and silver, all to match his heart. suede and skin-tight denim. long wool coats and tattered old band t-shirts (bands he’s seen and even met, now). big cozy jumpers and t-shirts his boyfriend steals because they smell like home. whatever you do…don’t….think about that.

The Houses as Male Clothing Things


Pull-over sweaters. Hats that shade the eyes from the sun. A fading band logo on an old shirt. Fabrics that never wrinkle. Leather bracelets. Plaid. Dress shoes that leave echoing footsteps in empty hallways.


Soft cotton t-shirts. A tie left untied. Dark-washed jeans. Long wool coats with lots of buttons. Stripes. Sneakers caked with mud. Silver watches that tick loudly if you hold them to your ear.


Pants with lots of pockets. The perfectly pressed collars of nice shirts. Socks with sharks on them. Wire-rimmed glasses. Drawstring backpacks. Hoodies. Well-worn fabrics that smell like home.


Scuffed shoes with untied laces. Button down shirts. Sunglasses. A wool scarf wrapped tightly around a neck. Shorts with silly patterns on them. Khaki. Outfits that look nice no matter the time of year.

(Here you go @belongs-to-moony​ ! I hope this could do your request justice ♥)

Female Clothing Things / Male Clothing Things

Valentine's Surprise

A/N: A little PWP for Valentine’s Day, left until the very last minute, but I hope not too late for @loveinpanem. I didn’t even give @peetabreadgirl or @xerxia31 enough time to beta it properly, so all mistakes are my own.

Rated E, NSFW.

Peeta Mellark paced softly around the perimeter of his classroom, peering over his students’ shoulders in the sun-dappled studio where they perched on stools in front of their easels, transferring the still life in front of them to canvas. Their subject matter was non-traditional, but Peeta had allowed them to choose it for themselves, thinking it would hold their interest for longer than the usual bowl of fruit or vase of flowers. The focus on a realistic depiction of the arrangement in front of them remained the same, even if the objects consisted of an iPhone, a set of earbuds, a water bottle and a clutch of grocery store daisies plonked unceremoniously into a cup usually used for rinsing paint brushes.

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Bad Moon Rising: Part 6 [Modern!Kylo x Reader]

BMR Masterlist // AO3

A/N: Ah! I was having some trouble with this part, but then it took off. I should have Part 7 (what?!) polished up soon, too! Enjoy!!

Warnings: Language. Suggested violence.

Word count: 1,700+

Work had consumed your life, and you gladly let it. Anything to get your mind off of whatever it was that you went through. You didn’t allow yourself to call it a breakup. You were never actually with Kylo. Sure, the relationship was bound to flower into a romantic one. But it hadn’t, not yet. There was only one dinner date, drinks, and a kiss. One solitary kiss. 

But you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about it. You had never been kissed that passionately before. The more you thought about it, the worse it got. Every time you recalled the moment, there was something new you remembered. The way his hands commandingly grasped the sides of your face. The way he pressed you against the wall. You would think that was it. But next time you remembered how his hair ticked your cheeks, or, god-forbid, those damn lips of his. It was enough to drive you crazy. 

But he wasn’t yours. He never was. 

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Blind Love [I]

Genre(Rating): Fluff/Angst (PG-13)

Word Count: 1324

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Summary:  Accidents can be life changing, but so can love.

Part two Part three Part four

Originally posted by sekaisoosgirl

All you remembered was a loud crash that stung your ears, the smell of blood, and the chilling winter night breeze stabbing your ice cold skin. You had been hit by a drunk driver and unfortunately injured your face and head. The drunk driver was killed upon impact, but you were left there freezing, bleeding, and unconscious. Distant and faint police sirens were approaching when you regained consciousness, yet your vision blurred terribly. Your windshield was shattered all over the car and on your clothing. You could see the snow falling slowly and calmly, your bleeding hands quivering, and your steering wheel, yet you felt numb and it was hard to focus on just one thing. You passed out once more, and when you woke up once again, your eyes were covered in gauze. You heard your parents speaking with what seemed to be a doctor, and when they realized you had awoken, they held your hands and seemed to be holding in a secret from you.

“What is this?” You asked, trying to touch the gauze around your eyes and temples. Your body ached severely, but your confusion numbed the pain. After a brief moment of silence and a sniffle from your mother, an unfamiliar voice began speaking. He informed you that the accident you were in had caused you to go temporarily blind, and that it would take a long time before you gained back your vision. Your mouth hung open and you felt your eyes tear up and you just stayed silent until you were left alone. When you were finally discharged, your parents had aided you in settling into their home, moving out of your apartment due to your disability.

Months went by, and it had been pretty rough since you left the hospital. You were an artist and your eyes were everything to you and your career, but you hadn’t touched a paint brush since then. Though you strayed away from your passion, your friends still spoke to you and made sure to visit twice a week. Bora, your childhood friend and coworker, visited one morning and offered to cook you some soup and make some tea. The two of you conversed happily and nothing felt abnormal to you, except when you couldn’t see her new shoes she had bought a week ago. “So, I had this idea but don’t yell at me,” she started. You attempted to roll your eyes, crossing your legs and arms. “What is it?” you asked, smiling. “I met this guy right and I know you don’t like going out as much as you used to, but I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with him?” You heard her smile when she finished and when she sat next to you, you sighed and put your feet back down. “A date? I can’t believe you’re trying to make a real life pun out of me,” You were giggling but also you were serious. Who would date a blind girl? Who would even dare put up with one?

“Okay, that might be true but I can’t see you spending your days shut inside your parents’ house! You’re 24! You gotta go out and have some fun.” You appreciated Bora and her effort, and you did think about it for a little bit and finally decided to comply. “All right. Who’s the guy?” Bora grinned and held your arm, leaning her cheek on your shoulder. “His name is Minjae. Lee Minjae, and he’s a lawyer.” Bora sighed heavily and continued, “He’s so hot! But don’t get me started on his muscles, girl!” Bora laughed loudly, pushing you playfully. You had to laugh with her.

Once she had given you the date, time, and address, she offered to take you there, but you shook your head and said, “It’s not that far from here, so I could just walk with my dad.” After eating your breakfast, Bora left after hugging you tightly, and you just sat on your couch, facing the window and imagining what the snow looked like on your front lawn.

When the date of your meeting with Minjae arrived, your mother helped you out with your clothes. You went to the date wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath a long wool coat. Considering the icy temperature, you put on jeans and boots on and began walking to the restaurant with your father who had bundled up in his coats. “Thanks Dad,” you said softly, shivering from the wind. He laughed and patted your arm which he was holding tightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave before he can see me!”

When you entered the restaurant, you asked the waitress for help and told her you would be eating with a Lee Minjae. She directed you and helped you sit down on the leather seat of a booth. You appeared to be alone at the table, so you assumed Minjae was in the bathroom or something. “You must be (Y/N)!” You jumped a little at this sudden loud voice coming from your right. “Ah, yes. Are you Minjae?” You heard the man sit down across from you and felt his warm hand grab yours. “Yes, I am.” You nodded with a smile and took off your sunglasses, setting them down beside the plate. Setting your walking stick down as well, you heard Minjae mumble something inaudible. “Oh, you’re blind?” he asked, sounding a bit disappointed. Your heart began pounding and your shoulders tensed. Did Bora not tell him? Your cheeks flushed red and after a couple seconds, you weakly said yes. “Ah, Bora didn’t uh tell me that.” He sounded uncomfortable now and you automatically felt ashamed. “Is that..a problem?” you asked nervously, holding a part of the coat you never took off.

“Well, it’s not a problem. I just wasn’t told by your friend, so this is a bit shocking to me..” He fell silent after the waiter took order of the your drinks. Your hands were trembling despite how warm you felt. Sweat accumulated on your back and neck and you only wanted to go home now and bury your face in some pillows. “I actually have to leave. Something important came up..” Minjae patted your arm awkwardly and just up and left. You heard him talk to the waiter up front and then heard the doors open and close. You sat in the booth, blinking and in disbelief. Your eyes felt warm and heavy, until tears dripped down from them. Wiping the tears quickly, you started gathering your things and was assisted out of the restaurant. When you were outside, you began walking back home, holding your phone to dial your dad’s number. Of course, you dropped it and it devastated you that moment. You bent down to try and find it, but it was hopeless. “Are you looking for this?” You heard someone ask. They placed your phone gently between your hands and when you thanked them, they held out their arm and offered to take you home. “Um, who are you?” you asked, a bit worried about the current situation. “I’m Do Kyungsoo. I’m actually your neighbor, but I moved in only a few months ago.” You nodded your head, finding his name familiar and bowed your head in gratitude before holding onto his arm as he took you home.

“Thank you so much,” you said with a weak smile. Your face was basically frozen, and smiling was harder than walking home. “No problem. If you need any help getting to places, just call me okay?” He handed you a post-it note with his phone number and after he took you up the stairs to the front door, he gripped your hand tightly for a second and walked to his home. When Kyungsoo reached his front porch, he took a glance at you as you walked inside and for a moment, a faint smile appeared on his lips.


Men’s coat circa 1787-1792. Wool. French in style. I like this coat because it’s an example of a coat in mid shift from the styles of the 1760s & 1770s and the coat styles with the cutback waists that would appear in the early 19th century. In the collection of the Met. 

I also like the bright orange buttons. 

The pieces in the top figure aren’t original with the coat, but they are contemporary to the time period and also show the changing fashions.

Monday Morning

Nick Amaro Imagine Series

Imagine: Nick is interested in the new detective, it’s the Monday after the weekend of her date. Nick wants to know how the date went.

For the first part: here.

The busy precinct buzzed with chatter. The smell of coffee swirled around the precinct. Everyone was just fighting for their caffeine fix. Nick was never a fan of the coffee at the precinct, so he got up extra early that morning. He stopped by his favorite cafe and bought a cup of coffee for himself, and a cup for Serena. Sure, it was a really nice thing to do, but he’s not going to lie and say he doesn’t have an ulterior motive. What was a better way of striking up a conversation, than offering a cup of coffee?

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To continue this? Or? It’s gonna be super angsty, like Dean-Winchester-has-an-awful-past angsty. WDYT? Destiel AU, obviously.

“Six dollars? For coffee? Is that a joke?”

The girl, pigtailed and snub-nosed, stares at Dean in utter indignation as he holds out her decaf, sugar-free, no-foam monstrosity. It’s got so much fake caramel syrup in it that it barely even qualifies as coffee at this point and it definitely isn’t worth six dollars but hey, he doesn’t make the rules. Bored, Dean wiggles the paper cup at her.

“Yuh. Don’t like it? There’s a Starbucks across the road, go get diabetes there, instead.”

Affronted, the girl huffs and puffs at him while she digs in her purse and Dean dumps the coins in the cash register with an extremely fake, ‘Have a great day!’ before leaning back against the sink and rubbing the back of his neck. Outside the sun is shining but it’s chilly and autumnal and red-brown leaves skitter and swirl along the sidewalk, carried by a gentle breeze and stopped in their journey by people’s boots and sneakers. It’s warm in the coffee shop and he tugs restlessly at the deep V of his black t-shirt, leaving a smear of wet coffee grains on his collarbone. It’s a rare moment when the shop is quiet, and he takes in their few customers listlessly. Two girls sit huddled together on their iPhones, giggling at something, wrapped up in scarves and mittens despite the indoor warmth. An Asian kid, Kevin he thinks his name is, is dozing off in front of his laptop and a pile of textbooks in the corner. A couple sit in silence, both staring out of the window with empty cups in front of them, tension pulling into faint lines at their mouths. And a cute guy with short, military-cut hair and pouty lips talks on his phone loudly, laughing as he talks about some woman named Anna. Dean rolls his eyes. One of his many, many pet peeves is hearing someone yack loudly on their cell phones in public. He turns away, washing his hands under too-hot water and wiping down the bar. He had averted his eyes from the father and son sitting near the door, the kid colouring in a picture energetically and the father ruffling his hair with a fond smile. The boy only looked about eight years old. He swallows bitterly and grits his teeth, muttering to himself. Only two hours left of his shift then Ruby will be here to take over from him and he can head home to catch up on Dr Sexy and maybe hit the gym.

The bell at the door signals someone’s arrival and Dean plasters on his usual fake smile, feeling it melt into a small, more natural one as he sees his customers. He even manages to ignore the flurry of leaves that have blown in with them. These two are regulars, coming in together most days, sometimes twice a day if it’s cold and blustery like today. They’re both blue-eyed and painfully handsome, and today wearing matching blue scarves; one of them is in a slightly ill-fitting tan trench and the other in a long wool thigh-skimming coat with a black beanie covering a shock of dark hair. They’re twins, and the most identical twins Dean has ever seen. They’re talking intensely about something as they approach the bar, one of them shaking his head and laughing, and their faces split into identical smiles as they see their barista.

“Dean! Hi!”

“Hello, Dean.”

And Dean’s lips incline just a tiny bit, the closest to a genuine smile he ever manages when it comes to customers. Or to most people, really. He doesn’t exactly like these two; they just annoy him less than most people. They're… he has no other word for it. They’re both sexy. Nice to look at. Some might say intimidating. They seem to walk with the kind of purpose that evades most people, like they’re constantly on some sort of heaven-sent mission, and he’s forever watching other customers follow them with their eyes whenever they leave with their coffee cups clutched in their hands.

“Hi.” He wipes his hands and tosses the towel. “The usual?”

“For me, yes. Please.” Tan trench-coat smiles at him, pulling a black leather wallet from his pocket. Black beanie is tapping his teeth wth a manicured fingernail and looking up at the board behind Dean’s head.

“You’ve got plenty of new drinks. Pumpkin spice season is always my favourite. Is there anything you recommend?”

“No. Are these to go?”

“I’m so glad I asked, thank you for your expertise.” Black beanie grins at him, displaying a row of flashing white teeth, and trench-coat elbows him.

“Jimmy, be nice. And choose your own drink. Yes please, Dean, both to go.”

He knows they’re called Cas and Jimmy, and he knows they own Novak & Novak, an art gallery a block away, but he can never work out which twin is which. Normally he has to wait for one to say the other’s name, because firstly it feels rude to ask but secondly, he doesn’t really care. They’re Cas and Jimmy. Why should it matter to him which one is which?

“Fine, I’ll have… a vanilla brûlée latte with foam and extra whip please, Dean-o. And a slice of carrot cake, or whatever that is.”

Jimmy smiles at him again and Dean’s teeth ache from the amount of sugar in the drink the man is requesting. Around Jimmy’s neck is slung a camera, a white and tan Olympus with matching strap, which he has to push aside to find his wallet in his pocket. Cas elbows him before he can pull it out.

“My treat. Your turn tomorrow. And what about you, Dean?” Cas’ smile is more reserved, almost shy, but his blue eyes twinkle as he turns back to the bar. Nonplussed, Dean just stares at him.

“What about me?”

“Can I buy you something? You look like you’ve had a long day.”

“Oh, gee, thanks pal.” Dean rings up their order, irritably. He hates being told he looks like shit. “Way to make a guy feel good about himself. And no. I don’t want a coffee. I get them for free anyway.”

“Oh. Right. I…” Cas has gone pink all the way to the tips of his ears. Jimmy is staring at the floor, a lock of dark hair curling onto his forehead, and he looks like he’s got his lips clamped tightly together to suppress a laugh. Or a giggle. Jimmy Novak looks like the type to giggle. “I apologise, Dean. I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Whatever.” He hands Cas his change and turns away. “Your drinks will be ready soon, gimme five.”

“Alright.” One of the twins responds, then Dean is sure he can hear whispering over his shoulder. Or hissing, more like. One twin berating the other about something. Their voices sound so alike he can’t tell who’s speaking, and he doesn’t really give a shit anyway. He’s used to being talked about. People have been talking behind his back ever since his thirteenth birthday, he’s grown a thick enough skin that it doesn’t bother him any more. He doesn’t care what they’re saying.

He slides Cas’ extra-shot latte across the bar to him, frowning when the other man offers a shy smile. Cas is possibly, maybe, potentially the more attractive of the two, at least in Dean’s eyes. He’s got to know the twins a little since they moved to Vancouver last year, after Jimmy almost fell into the coffee shop with an exaggerated gasp about his need for caffeine, and in that time he’s noticed a few subtle nuances about the men that make them different. They’re so subtle, however, that most of the time he still can’t tell them apart at a first glance. Jimmy is the more talkative of the two, and seems the more energetic. Cas is shyer and more studious, and has a few more fine lines at the corners of his eyes than his brother, lines which Dean notices now as he looks at him and immediately feels irritated with himself. Why has he even noticed? Stupid of him. Cas must be at least a decade older than him. Eight years, maybe.

He finishes Jimmy’s drink and hands it over, turning away abruptly before either of them can attempt a conversation with him. He isn’t interested. He’s tired, crankier than usual, and just wants to be left alone. Honestly, he feels like Shrek half the time, wanting to be left in peace in his own solitary life. But, annoyingly, people do keep insisting on talking to him.

“Well, bye Dean-o.” The nickname grates on him. Jimmy sips his drink thoughtfully then nods, apparently satisfied. “See you tomorrow, I’m sure!”

“I’m already looking forward to it!” Dean matches Jimmy’s cheerful tone with unconcealed sarcasm and both twins bark out identical laughs. Jimmy gives him a two-fingered wave and saunters off, fussing with his camera, while Cas lingers.

“Did you forget something?” Dean asks, blunt as ever, and Cas turns his blue eyes on him, eyes as clear as the ocean and for a split-second Dean is captivated. Then he coughs and looks away awkwardly.

“No. I just wondered… I just thought…”

Cas is tracing a swirl in the rustic oak bar top with a finger and Dean follows its path. Cas has nice hands, objectively. If he were interested in peoples hands, or in Cas, he would say they were nice. Strong. Artistic, if the dents in his knuckles are anything to go by. They look like they would be nice to hold, his fingertips smooth and his palms soft, nails short and well-kept but not groomed like Jimmy’s. Dean would think those things if, you know, he was interested in Cas at all. Which he isn’t.

“If maybe you, uh,” Cas falters and stops and Dean has to resist drumming his fingers on the bar. The bell at the door rings again and a small gaggle of teenage girls come in, jostling each other out of their way as they approach, all clutching their phones and with a little too much make-up on for Dean’s tastes. Cas, oddly, goes beet red and seems to think better of whatever he was about to say.

“See you, Dean.”

“Uh, OK, bye…” He scowls, watching Cas walk away to join his brother by the door then they both leave in another flurry of leaves. The hell was that about? “Weirdo,” He mutters under his death then turns to the teenagers with his fake-happy smile plastered on his face.

“What can I get for you guys?”

Reckoning-Michael Gray and Alfie Solomons Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: violence, some sensuality, some language

A/N: This is a sequel to A Tangled Web to Weave so read that before you read this one.

Originally posted by all-about-that-fandoms

Originally posted by littlesati

    There were no stars in the sky that fateful night. Amongst the sounds of couples laughing, drunks hollering, and whores cooing at potential customers was the sound of a pistol being beaten against a skinny black man’s head. It was a dark alley in London so no one would really pay it any mind—-especially when they noticed the two large black men in long wool gray coats standing at the entrance whilst Y/N and Octavian Y/L/N handled business.

   The man cried out again as Y/N cracked a bone in his shoulder with her silver pistol. He covered his head with his blood-streaked hands and curled further into himself on the cold ground, but Y/N wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. She knelt down and grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar, glaring at the quivering man in front of her.

    “Tell the Harpers this is what happens when you do business on the West End and don’t let them even think about the East End,” she hissed.

    “P-p-please, let me go,” he sputtered in blood.

    Y/N scoffed and dropped him back on the ground, pivoted, and walked over to Octavian, who was smoking a cigarette and looked dapper in his black tuxedo with his black trench coat draped over his shoulders. His brown eyes shimmered with mischief.

    “Theo and Ron will haul him back over to the Harpers,” Octavian said, handing Y/N his handkerchief.

    Y/N happily took it and wiped the blood off her pistol. “You would think the Harpers would know better to stay in the south. North, East, and West London are ours.”

   “Can’t blame them for being ambitious. You did quite a number on him, Y/N.”

   “Thanks, I learn from the best.” Y/N slipped her pistol back into her beaded silver clutch.  

    Though Octavian usually flexed his muscle when the twins had to handle business personally, sometimes Y/N would lash out on those who did them wrong herself. Usually, it was because she had some pent up aggression that wouldn’t be expressed the same way through dance. The Michael and Alfie situation had definitely fueled her with enough aggression to last for a while. A few months had passed since they both admitted their feelings for her and nothing had been quite the same since. Alfie was strictly business during their meetings and Michael gave her the cold shoulder. Y/N knew she was to blame, but she also knew that she cared for them both for different reasons and Octavian chastised her for not making up her mind. Rather than take her anger out on him, she took it out on junkies who hadn’t paid them or competition that was trying to move in on their territory. While it didn’t solve any real problems, it did satisfy Y/N’s bloodlust for a while.

   Fifteen minutes later, Y/N and Octavian were strolling into their London town home. Olivia was waiting for the twins at the door, but she looked a lot more anxious than usual.

   “Good evening, Olivia,” Y/N slipped off her brown mink coat and handed it to her, “we had a spectacular night at the club.”

   “And the after show wasn’t that bad either,” Octavian said with a smirk.

   “Well, you might want to put your coat back on, Miss Y/L/N, because Mr. Solomons just rang and said that you must go to the bakery immediately; it’s an emergency.” Olivia glanced at Octavian. “Both of you.”

   “If it was really important, Alfie could’ve come to the club and told us himself,” Octavian said.

   “This is Alfie we’re talking about—-he hates clubs and jazz and Sabini’s got men in the Onyx all the time.” Y/N prayed that she wasn’t shaking too much as Olivia put her coat on over her shoulders. “Thank you, Olivia. Please prepare some chamomile tea for our return.”

    “Yes, Miss,” Olivia said.

    “I won’t need the tea.”

    “I’ll drink yours then.”

    Y/N did her best not to show her apprehension during the drive to Alfie’s bakery. She had seen him a couple of days ago, but he hadn’t said much and barely looked at her. So why did she care if her burnt orange frock with the satin tie around the waist looked pristine or if her bob was still smooth? He never noticed the difference anyway, but she still wanted to look good for him. But she also liked looking good for Michael too.

    Finally, they reached Alfie’s bakery and Octavian helped Y/N out of the car. They walked slowly side by side into the bakery, being greeted by the few men Alfie had working to near morning hours. They found themselves escorted into his office and the strong, cockney Jew was sitting at his desk, smoking a cigar. Two glass tumblers filled with rum were set on the desk in front of the two seats in front of his desk. 

     “Octavian, Y/N, I see you got my message,” Alfie said.

     “Yes, what is the emergency?” Octavian asked.

     Alfie stood. “We’ll get to that in a moment. No one took your coats? Bloody ‘ell, can’t fin’ good men anywhere anymore.” He walked around and took both of their coats off though the twins did protest. Then, he hung them up and had the twins sit.

     Y/N narrowed her eyes at Alfie. He was more skittish than usual and something grave had occurred. “Alfie—”

    “You want a smoke?”

    Alfie handed her one of his and lit it. Y/N took a long drag before blowing a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. It helped her relax a little more but didn’t curb her suspicions of her Jewish business partner.

     “And have some rum, please,” Alfie said as he sat back down.

     Octavian sipped his first and nodded. “It’s good, but we all know you didn’t call us here on an emergency just for a smoke and a drink.”

    “I figured it’d help soften the blow.” Alfie folded his hands on his desk. “There’s no easy to say it, but, earlier today, Tommy gave his family up to the police.”

    Alfie’s words echoed in her ears but Y/N wasn’t quite making the connection. Tommy Shelby, the same man who managed to screw over the IRA and get out from under the Russians for his family had handed them over to the police? The same police that were in his pocket? That made no sense. But if Tommy got them put in prison, that meant that Michael was in prison.

    Y/N gritted her teeth at the thought and took a large hit off of her cigarette. For the first time in a long time, she wished it was stronger because she could feel the panic begin to rise inside of her. It started from her hips and was working its way up. If it got to her heart, she might snap. 

    “Why would he do that? Tommy’s family is everything to him,” Octavian said.

    “He got into some trouble with a priest and there was an issue with his son—-”

    “When did you find out about this?” Y/N interrupted.

    “Excuse me?” Alfie asked.

    “You heard me.”

    “I found out about a minute before I called your house, thought you two should know ‘bout our partner.”

    “If nine tenths of the Shelbys are in prison, the Blinders are screwed, which means we’re all screwed,” Octavian said in a level tone.

    “No, the Shelbys may be the core of the Blinders but the Blinders are made up of several men loyal to their family. However, they could be paranoid since they could be next,” Y/N said.

    “As long as I still ‘ave my business, I can loan a few men to help you,” Alfie said.

   “Thank you, Alfie, for telling us.” Octavian stood. “We should be on our way.”

   “I’ll leave when I finish my rum,” Y/N said, her eyes trained on Alfie.

   The older man looked concerned and it was appropriate.


   “It would be rude for me not to. Besides, I have some things I want to discuss with Mr. Solomons. He’ll get me a car home or you can wait here, your call.”

   Octavian hesitated. “Very well then, I’ll be waiting outside.”

   When Octavian left, the panic within Y/N was right at her ribs and the cigarette was shaking in her hand.

   “Y/N, ‘m sorry about Michael. ‘m sure e’ll be out in no time, you know Tommy.”

   “That’s the problem, I don’t know Tommy.” Y/N grabbed the rum and downed it in a gulp. “Pour some more.”



   Alfie sighed before filling her tumbler again and Y/N held it in one hand and her cigarette in the other. 

   “Did Tommy get his son back just for selling out the rest of his family? Oh, but he probably has a clever idea to get them all back, doesn’t he?” Y/N spat. “It might not work this time though and if it doesn’t then…then the whole family could be taken advantage of in prison. You know how criminals are treated by the guards, imagine having the bloody Shelbys in your block. What’ll they do to poor Ada, Polly, Finn, John, Arthur…”

    “Michael.” His name came out in a dead pan fashion from Alfie and his eyes seemed to darken at the name. “That’s the one you really care about anyways, innit?”

    Y/N took another drag. “I care about all the Shelbys.” 

    “But not in the same way as you care about Michael. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other—-looks right disgusting some times. He looks at you like he hasn’t seen the sun in days and you’re it and you look at him and…and you would look happy.”

    Y/N sighed. “Trust me, Alfie, he hasn’t been looking at me like that lately and neither have you.”

    Alfie banged his fist on the desk. “You’re so frustrating! Of course I ain’t lookin at you the way that boy does because I ain’t no boy! I’m a man and I take what I want! Even if I’m angry.”

    His nostrils were flaring and his face was beginning to redden. Y/N had definitely touched a spot with him and she thought she liked the reaction. As she downed the rest of the rum, she could feel it shoving the panic back to the pit of her stomach. She took one last drag of her cigarette before putting it out in Alfie’s ash tray.

    “Really, because you haven’t taken what you want in months, barely even spoke to me,” Y/N said.

    Alfie groaned. “Because I was mad at ya! But unfortunately for the both of us, you stay stuck in my mind, like the pain my arse you are.”

    “But you still thought you should tell me about Tommy and…and Michael.”

    “Because I knew you’d be pissed if I didn’t and because I care about yeh.”   Alfie relaxed back into his seat and it seemed like he got most of what he wanted off of his broad chest.

    “Oh please, you’re probably grateful that your only competition is rotting in a jail cell right now!” 

    Alfie slowly stood in his feet. “Be careful how you speak to me.”

   “Or what? You’ll hit me, beat me like one of your men who fell out of line?” Y/N taunted.

    The rum and nicotine had put her in a provocative mood and being provocative was better than panicking. Alfie slowly walked around the desk, like a lion stalking its prey. He grabbed Y/N by the shoulders and yanked her out of her seat. She tried hitting him and scratching him, but it was though she was trying to harm a boulder since he didn’t react at all. Alfie kept staring into her dark eyes as he carefully backed her into the wall. Y/N went to hit him again but Alfie grabbed her wrists and pinned them to each side of her head.

    “I told you to watch your mouth,” Alfie whispered in that rough Cockney accent.

    “Why don’t you watch it for me?”

    Alfie closed the little distance between the two of them, pressing his mouth against hers. As Y/N kissed back, she felt the familiar burn of his beard around her mouth and smirked into it. When she tried to lean into him more, Alfie pushed her back against the wall before kissing her more aggressively. She kissed back with just enough passion and soon, Alfie released one of her hands to lock the door without breaking their intense embrace. Y/N took advantage and trailed that hand across his shoulder and Alfie growled as he grabbed her right leg and wrapped it around his hip, pushing them closer together. The heat seemed to have gotten the best of them and soon, Y/N’s hands were clawing at Alfie’s hair while Alfie was holding himself back from ripping off her dress. When he began kissing down her neck, Y/N huffed and smiled at the feeling of his facial hair tickling her neck. With her eyes closed she was able to focus on the feeling and the feeling brought her to a different memory.

    It had happened a couple of weeks after Y/N met Michael. It was late and she had come to Birmingham to check on the Blinders spreading hers and Octavian’s product around the area. She ended up running into Michael at the Garrison and they played several hands of poker with Arthur, John, and Isaiah over bourbons. After several drinks and hands, the Brummies realized just how good at cards Y/N was.

    “Bloody ‘ell, she took all my money!” Arthur announced angrily.

    “’s not my fault that the cards favored me,” Y/N grinned. “I’d like to collect my three hundred pounds now.”

    All three of the men muttered curses at her as they gave her their money, but Michael couldn’t help but laugh. 

    “How did you get so good at poker?” Michael asked.

    “Years and years of practice, Shelby.”

    “It’s Gray.” 

    “Makes no difference ‘round here, really, but Gray works better with your name.” 

     Y/N caught the cheeky looks that Isaiah, Arthur, and John shot Michael as they left, but she pretended not to as she shuffled some cards and sipped some more bourbon.

     “I can’t believe you and your brother are related, you’re like two different people,” Michael said.

    “We only share half of the same genes and it would be so boring being like Octavian.  Micromanaging the books, micromanaging the men, and micromanaging me must get old.” Y/N smirked. “But I do envy how much he gets to use his fists.”

     “If he’s the smarts and the muscle, what’s your role, if you don’t mind me asking,” Michael said.

    Y/N smirked. “Exactly that: I’m charming and people—-especially men—-underestimate me, so they wouldn’t be surprised if I drugged them or they wouldn’t question me if I lured them into getting jumped.”

   Michael raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.”

   “And what’s your role in Shelby Brothers Limited?”

   “I’m a manager.”

    “So you don’t get your hands dirty.”

    “I wouldn’t say that.”
    Y/N chuckled as she took another swig. “You’re full of surprises, Michael Gray, and I like that.”

    After countless drinks, Michael had Y/N pressed against the wall of a secret passageway in the back of the Garrison. They had started out making out passionately before Michael began trailing his mouth down the side of her neck. Y/N had to bite her plump bottom lip to keep herself from moaning. It wasn’t until Michael’s hands began scrunching up the sides of her dress, that she found herself sobering up.

    “Michael, stop,” Y/N said. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

    Slowly Michael let go of her dress and looked into her eyes. Though they were slightly bloodshot, they seemed serious when he said, “Fine, I’ll wait for you then.”

    Y/N blinked and realized that the scratching on her neck was because of Alfie and that she was in Alfie’s office still. She shouldn’t be doing this, not now. She slowly grabbed his hands and pushed him away. He frowned at her.

   “What’s the problem?” Alfie asked.

   “I can’t do this. I’m only doing this to try to forget about Michael and I can’t. I’m so sorry, Alfie,” Y/N said.

    Alfie stepped away from her and it was obvious that he was mad and hurt. “So, you were just going to screw me until he came back?”

    “No, I…I can’t do that; I couldn’t do that.” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “You deserve so much better than this.”

    Alfie shook his head. “Save the speech and leave ‘fore your brother thinks we did something we haven’t.”

    Y/N moved slowly as she grabbed her hat from the floor and slipped on her coat. She really cared about Alfie, but not in the way he wanted her to. He would find someone else someday, but it wasn’t Y/N. She would’ve told him that if she didn’t think it might break him in some way. So, she quietly slipped out of his office, fixed her hat on her head, fixed her lipstick in the reflection of a picture hanging on the wall, and strolled outside.

    “Must’ve been some important discussion,” Octavian said when Nathan, their driver, closed the car door behind Y/N.

    “It was extremely eye opening. I’m going to Birmingham tomorrow, Octavian, and you can either join me or stay here.”

     Octavian wound up tagging along with Y/N to Birmingham, the prison to be more specific. It was weird for both of them since they knew that it could’ve easily been them holed up in the large, gray building with barely bread and water for food and drink. Plus, the guards would love to break in their new batons on the twins who ran a lucrative drug ring. However, he did make his presence useful by helping Y/N persuade a guard that the Shelbys once had in their pocket to sneak Y/N into the prison. After a promise of an eight ball of coke, Lieutenant Pendleton happily led Y/N into Michael’s cell block.

      Most of the prisoners moaned or catcalled when she passed, but Y/N blocked it all out. All she knew was that she was going to see Michael again and it was the only thing that mattered. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel nervous or anxious about talking to Michael, but she felt calm instead. She didn’t feel like shouting it from the rooftops unlike some girls, but telling Michael to his face was close enough.

     Finally, they reached Michael’s cell and the guard blocked Y/N’s view as he unlocked it. “You’ve got five minutes.”

     “Thank you, Lietutenant.”

     “Just make it quick. They’ll rotate in six so I’ve got to get you out of here in a minute.”

     Y/N nodded and walked into the large, but sad cell. It was four dark gray walls of nothing. There was nothing to lie on and no sort of bathroom. Off to the far left, Michael was laying down on the cold floor, wearing a white t-shirt and black suit pants. He was still toned but slimmer than the last time Y/N saw him. Part of her wanted to beat the men that had done this to him and the other part just wanted to hold him.

     “Michael?” she called. 

     He didn’t move nor respond.

     “Michael, we haven’t got a lot of time,” she said as she walked closer to him before kneeling down behind him. “Michael.”

    Y/N slowly reached her hand out to touch him but before she could, Michael slowly sat up and looked at her. He looked upset, pale, and bruised. He narrowed his eyes at her.

    “What are you doing here?” Michael asked.

     “I heard what Tommy did and I had to see you. Are you all right?”

    “Did you talk to Tommy?”

     “Briefly. It is much more complicated than you think, but, Octavian and I are helping him get you and the rest of your family out.” Y/N ran her hand through his hair but he flinched. “Someone hurt you.”

     “Happens when you’re a Blinder and you get thrown in prison. How are you here anyway?” Michael’s eyes widened and he stood, bringing Y/N up with him. “You’re mad to be here. A guard could see us any second–”

     “I bought us some time, Michael. My brother and I have a little pull with the coppers here.” Y/N hesitated at she looked up into his light eyes. “When I was told about you being in prison, I panicked because I thought I would never see you again. You’re the finest drinking buddy a girl could ask for and you have this beautiful way of being polished and put together but also tough and scrappy. You’re corrupted but pure at the same time. You’re so sweet to me and you shouldn’t be. I’m so not worth your time and you never pushed me to do anything more than I wanted.”

     “Is that all you have to say?” Michael asked.

    “No, I am so sorry for what I put you through with Alfie. I never thought that two men would be interested in me and gangsters nonetheless. For a while, I thought that I was dividing my attention equally between the two of you, but then I realized that it’s wrong not to give someone you love all your attention and that I was giving one of you more attention than the other because I cared about them differently,” Y/N said. “I love you, Michael Gray, and I cannot lose you.”

     Michael slowly cupped Y/N’s face and stared intently at her. “Do you know how much you drive me mad? Even when I was furious with you, I still thought about you constantly. I wanted to talk to you, but I  wouldn’t let myself out of pride.” He kissed her sweetly. “You will never slip through my fingers again.”

    “Never,” Y/N whispered before kissing him back.

    For once in her life, Y/N was truly happy. In the back of her mind, she knew they only had a few minutes left before Y/N had to leave, but she cherished it. Michael, Polly, Arthur, Finn, John, and Ada would be out of prison if it was the last thing she did. 

Fuck OMG so my uni has this wooded area with paths and I was walking through it and there was this like dark mysterious clearing and sitting there was a pale pretentious ginger boy in a long wool coat smoking a cigarette and reading and in short that’s the story of how FRANCIS ABERNATHY IS REAL AND GOES TO SCHOOL WITH ME

anonymous asked:

Can I get how got7 would react to their gf having an intimidating vibe ( like always dressing in ripped jeans and black leather jacket) but she's actually really weird and dorky? Thank you 💜

Sorry for the late reply, I just changed the request a little bit just so I could work with it more, hopefully you still like it! :)

Anything in italics is your personal thought, anything in bold italics is the boys personal thoughts and lastly Y/N means your name :)

JB: You were running late of your date with JB and he was patiently waiting on the couch waiting for you to finish, but you still didn’t have an outfit ready to wear. 

“Y/N are you ready yet?” 

“Almost I just need to finish my makeup, and pick out an outfit.” You shouted behind the closed restroom door.

“I can pick out your outfit!” JB got up and started to make way to your room, he opened your closet to see your clothes broken up into two sections, the left side it was your ripped jeans and black clothing and the right side was all your Disney and band merch tshirts. JB was laughing at all the dorky shirts you had. You heard a knock on the restroom door and once you opened the door there was a JB holding a red Mickey Mouse t-shirt with black pants. “Jagi you would look cute in this.”

You slammed the door in JB’s face, while rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re a cute dork!! Come on y/n. Open the door! STOP BEING MAD AT ME!!” 

Mark: “Mark! Hurry up the movie is about to start!” It was friday night, which means it was you and Mark’s weekly movie night and it was your week to pick the movie.

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” He was holding the blanket and the bowl of popcorn. “What movie are we watching? I forgot to ask.”

You grabbed the bowl of popcorn, before you could answer the opening scene of Star Wars Episode IIII started to play.

“Star Wars? Really? I never thought you would be into this sort of stuff, you’re more into those documentary films..” Mark turned to face you.


“You’re so weird but I love you.” He put his arm around you and brought you close to him and gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

Jackson: It was Wednesday night and typically you do facial masks while you try to catch up on the shows that you missed on Monday and Tuesday due to work. You took off your combat boots, jeans, black long sleeve and switched into your Little Mermaid sweatshirt and yoga pants. You walked to the restroom and after you applied your avocado mask, you heard the front door opening.

“Babe where are you!?!? I’VE MISSED YOU!! COME LOVE ME!!” 

There was your annoying but lovable boyfriend who came home 4 hours early. Shit what do I do!? “I’m in the restroom! I’ll be out in 20!” Panic mood started to panic, so you locked the door.

“Why do you need 20 minutes in the restroom?” Jackson asked while walking closer to the restroom. “Why is the door locked, Jagi open the door!! LOVE ME!!”

“Jackson I’m busy!!” 

“Can I see your face?? Pleaseeeee.” Jackson’s voice was getting to the point where you couldn’t say no to him. You unlocked door and gave him your resting b***h face look. His eyes got really wide “You look really cute and funny like really funny but mainly cute! Stop giving me that intimidating look just love me already!!”

Junior: “Junior don’t you have enough books at home?” You were bored out of your mind, your boyfriend smooth talked you into going to the book store with him. The was the seventh book he picked out and still was deciding if he wanted to get this one or something different.

“Jagiya, I’m looking for the right book. Go look around the store maybe you’ll find something that catches your interest.” 

You groaned and turned away to leave your boyfriend to his books. You walked aimlessly around the store until you something did catch your attention. It was the comic book section. I wonder if they have the comic that I’m missing.. Hmm.. After 5 minutes of searching you found it! You found Batman/Superman #29, the newest one of the series and you were super happy. Just as you were about to start reading you heard your name.

“Y/N why are you in the comic section?” Junior asked while holding 4 books in his arm. “I didn’t know you were into this sort of stuff..”

“What do you mean by that?” That slight comment angered you because all your life everybody would say that too you since you were a girl.

“Its nothing bad, I mean you don’t dress like you would like it and you never brought it up before.” As soon as he finished saying his comment, he instantly regretted it.

“OHHHH I’M SORRY JUNIOR I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD TO WEAR CERTAIN THINGS TO LIKE COMIC BOOKS! IM! SO! SORRY!! And since I never brought it up before let me do that right now. Superman is a million times better then Batman!” Now that you started you weren’t going to stop. You really didn’t care if people were giving you looks

Is she really going to argue about Superman and Batman? I fell in love with a huge dork. He smiled to himself and just looked at you with amazement.

Youngjae: You told your boyfriend that while he was away on tour you would take care of Coco. He was incredibly happy because the person he loves would take care of the dog he loves. After spending 2 weeks with coco you were upset that she would be going back to the boys dorm soon and you didn’t want her to leave. As you came home after a long day at work there was coco waiting by the door for you to come home. You took off your heels and put your leather jacket in the hallway closet and little coco followed right behind you, jumping so you can pick her up. You grabbed her, headed towards the tv and put on your favorite movie Aladdin and had coco sitting on your lap. When the “A Whole New World” scene come on you got up and started singing to coco and while holding her close to your chest you were dancing all over the living room floor. At the same moment you didn’t hear the front door opening.

“Jagi, I’m home early! I’ve missed you and coco so much! I have to tell you what Bambam did-” Youngjae stopped mid-sentence when he saw what you were doing. 


He never thought you would do something like this ever. 

Why is she so weird? But she’s really cute at the same time. I’ve missed her so much.. I picked the right girl.

Bambam: He invited you as his guest to a fashion show and of course he wanted to go matching because he’s just that type of boyfriend that would be into that type of stuff. Everyone would look at the two of you when you entered the room. Your outfits consisted of ripped black skinny jeans, black ankle boots, black long sleeved shirt with thin white stripes while wearing a long wool coat. After the show ended, you went to the after party where you just mostly kept to yourself because you rather have Bambam be the loud one out of the relationship while you just gave people the vibe that you didn’t want to be bothered. He noticed you were being awfully quiet and knew you were probably getting bored plus he noticed the time; it was getting late and you had to get home soon so you can get some rest for work tomorrow.

“Y/n let’s go.” He flashed a smile and lightly grabbed your hand and took you outside. “Want some ice cream?” You nodded your head yes and started to walk towards the nearest store. After you got your ice cream, Bambam wanted to go to the park and sit on the swings. It was nice outside; it was a starry night, with a gentle wind hitting your face.

“Jagi what are you thinking about?” Bambam noticed you were staring at the stars and were barely touching your ice cream.

“Huh? Oh no you would think its weird.” You still were looking at the stars

“Try me.”

“Bambam do you ever wonder if aliens are real? Like what if the government is hiding everything from us? We have all those really random videos, and theres stories plus NASA could be hiding things too!! Its just there’s so many galaxy’s what if they live over there. Also there could be a parallel universe too and what if there’s also–” You were starting to get on a roll but you were interrupted

“Jagi. You’re being really weird and I’m not use to it but keep going. I like this side of you.” *insert gif*

Yugyeom: You were patiently waiting for Yugyeom outside of the movie theatre, he was running late and told you to pick the movie that you wanted to see and he’ll meet you outside.

Maybe I should call him to see where he is.. Your pull out your phone trying to get a hold of your boyfriend and you hear a ring tone behind you. You felt a tap on your shoulder, as you turn around there was your loving boyfriend sweating and tired. 

“Y/n I’m sorry I’m late. Practice was running late but I made it just in time. Right? Has the movie started? Am I too late?” He was starting to babble and you knew if he kept going you would definitely be late for sure. You grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. While you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. Yugyeom asked another question. “What movie are we watching?”

“Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens!!” 

“Ohh” Yugyeom looked sort of upset.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t know much about the storyline.”

“Wait seriously?” You looked looked at him in shocked. “Well luck you, your girlfriend loves Star Wars so here’s a quick summary. This takes place in the far off galaxy and it’s in the middle of a civil war pretty much in the galaxy and the Empire is trying to get rid of all the good guys who are called Jedis. Okay? So what happens next is…..” You went on and on and you kept getting looks because of the vast knowledge you knew about Star Wars. While you were sitting down in your seats you were still going on about how Anakin only did this to protect the love of his life even though she died.

“Jagi. Jagiya, the trailers are about to start maybe you should lower your voice.”

“oh right sorry!” You had the hugest smile on your face and started to stuff your face with popcorn.

She is a huge dork, but she’s my dork. He kept giving you glances and a tender smile, seeing how excited you were for the movie.

baby, you’re my firework

Genre: Fluff/Romance, Vernon!AU

Word Count: 2368

Characters: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female Character

(a/n): To my always wonderful and lovely @hansolmates, the Yoon Jeonghan to my Joshua Hong Kong, here is your long-awaited belated birthday and Christmas present and I hope you like it! 2016 was an awesome year full of amazing memories and here’s to another of making many more while continuing to be the Seventeen trash that we are.♡


She was sitting on the window sill in her apartment, which was on the third floor of her building complex. Her apartment was situated in Hongdae, the part of Seoul where everyone her age basically went to party every night. She lived across the street from a studio, with a big tree planted right in front of it. Right now it was decorated with twinkling lights for the holidays. White bulbs combined with the snow sitting on the branches made for a picturesque winter night.

She observed the scene outside: people bustling in the city streets below, bright lights illuminating the restaurants and clubs, girls shivering in short sequin skirts, and guys wearing button downs and long coats. It was the one night where everyone dressed their absolute best while trying to stay warm in the brisk, winter weather. The one night where everyone wore as much glitter as they wanted without being judged for looking like a gaudy disco ball.  

It was New Year’s Eve and everyone in Seoul went out with their friends to welcome the new year. Some hoped to drink the regrets and bad memories of the past year away while others wanted to experience one last unforgettable moment.

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