vanilla scented candle

hogwarts houses & autumn aesthetics

gryffindor. oversized jumpers; roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire; laughing hysterically while pumpkin carving; the smell of cinnamon and baking; playing in puddles with bright gumboots; hair blowing wildly in the wind; cute beanies with pom poms; warm, rosy cheeks; burning your tongue when you sip a hot drink too quickly; early morning runs; worn, flannel shirts; pretending to be a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air

hufflepuff. long, woollen socks; vanilla-scented candles; a warm blanket over your shoulders; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves; fluffy earmuffs; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; hanging fairylights everywhere; playing with your pet on a warm rug; thick mittens; a warm bath to relax after a long day; the crunching of leaves underfoot; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera

ravenclaw. people-watching through foggy windows in cafés; reading a favourite book by candlelight; long, thick scarves; staying up late to play board games; wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; oversized, knitted cardigans; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; late nights binging on netflix; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies; the natural silence of the woods; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea

slytherin. cold and misty mornings; warming your hands on a mug of hot coffee; dark lip colours; the dance of walking barefoot across a cold floor; stylish, long overcoats; falling asleep to the pattering of rain on the window; meandering wooded roads; lace-up leather boots; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones; burying yourself in soft, warm blankets at the end of the day

What The Signs Remind Me Of

Aries: late night cruises, loud music in the car. forgetting to do something till the last minute. dirty sneakers, winged liner, black ripped jeans. the colour red. sloppy first kiss, pastel bedrooms, messy sheets.

 
Taurus: flirty conversations, sexual jokes. the smell of coffee in the morning, falling in love for the first time. making cookies late at night, coconut water. leather jackets, comic books. pugs, bad driving. 


 Gemini: late night conversations, random phone calls. swimming pools, the colour purple, long lashes. sweatshirts, new clothes, reading books, watching Netflix, random movie marathons, popcorn. 

 
Cancer: warm hugs, watching your favourite childhood cartoons. oversized shirts, crying alone in the bathroom. rain on windows, the light in someones eyes. vanilla scented candles. video games. 


 Leo: dark red lipstick, nice clothes, long hair. gold glitter, getting over your first heartbreak. neon signs, falling in love, music festivals, laughing. looking in the mirror. expensive things. red roses, partying with friends. 

 Virgo: helping someone in need, floral anything, cats, clean carpets. writing in journals, stacks of books. tarot cards, sun kissed skin, blonde hair, the feeling of not wearing makeup and feeling confident, ocean breeze. late night adventures. 

 
Libra: fresh face, pale skin, soft voices. baking in the middle of the night. exotic eyes. strawberry ice cream. Star Wars, the feeling of being loved by others. puppies, summer weather. long hugs, heart warming smiles.

 
 Scorpio: cancelled plans, uncomfortable silence, movie theatres, the feeling of regret. bad baking, unfinished conversations, cold showers. horror movies. really mean “jokes”. cuddling with cats


Sagittarius: day dreaming, really bad memes. bonfires, hoodies. not listening to people, smoking with friends. smoothies, birthday parties, crowded places, thin hair, bad clothes


Capricorn: veiny eyelids, pale skin, pouty lips, listening to music while doing schoolwork. opens up about themselves at like 3 am in the morning. love story telling, the feeling of staring at someone you love from across the room. spa day, beach holidays. 
 

Aquarius: late night drives, stays up all night playing video games, the feeling of breaking someones heart, emotionless, concert lights, intellectual conversations, trusting someone with your secret, illegal drugs, band t-shirts. 


Pisces: coffee dates, brunch with friends, long car rides, loud music. the feeling of being unwanted by everyone, cute noses, pastel colours, pink lipgloss, “are you awake” texts at 3 am. big cities, brown eyes

Hogwarts houses in Autumn
  • Ravenclaw: Reading in the common room into the late night when the wind is whistling around the tower, earl grey tea, vanilla scented candles, midday naps by an open window, admiring the view of the changing trees from Ravenclaw tower, study sessions in the library on rainy days
  • Slytherin: Cob webs in the common room, the lake rapping hard against the windows on especially windy days, hot coffee, late night studying, the softest and coziest robes, spearmint candles, waking early and seeing frost on the ground
  • Gryffindor: Pumpkin carving contests, sitting by the fireplace telling stories, woodsy and musk scented candles, staying up too late with friends in the common room, evening adventures testing limits near the Forbidden Forest and Great Lake, hot chocolate, wearing their red and gold house colors more proudly than ever
  • Hufflepuff: strolling through the grounds on sunny yet chilly early autumn days, always being the last table to leave the Great Hall after dinner because of the enjoyment of good food and friends, pumpkin scented candles, chai tea lattes, adding a cozy blanket from home to their dormitory beds, opening windows to enjoy the breeze and smell of the earth during fall
Aesthetics for the Houses

Gryffindor: Sucking on sugar cubes, giggling behind your hand, long car rides with friends, opening windows to let in fresh air, running barefoot through grass, burning your tongue on food that was too hot, the view from tall buildings, the sun warming your skin, doorbells, summer camp, fierce eyeliner and bold lipstick, deep v-necks accessorized with a flirty smile, rough hands and soft hearts, brightly colored cocktails, laughing too hard at a dumb joke, crumpling up paper and throwing it into a trashcan across the room, card games, letting your hair down, opening doors, and skinny dipping.

Ravenclaw: Waking up late on a rainy day, warm coffee on a cold morning, scrunched eyebrows, color-coding everything, bags under your eyes, passing notes to your friends, long fingernails, jumping in puddles, charm bracelets, comfortable silences, orchestras, velvet ribbons, french braids, dark eyelashes, chewing ice cubes, train rides, staring out the window, curling up with a pet, being alone in the forest, the smell of the earth after it rains, staying up late to watch the stars, rearranging your room, biting your tongue, painting your toes different shades, cold glasses, chokers, watching a play, musical compositions, roman numerals, doodling on your hand, and mirrors.

Hufflepuff: Skirts that flow behind you, eyes that sparkle in the light, tea, picking flowers for your mom, laughing so hard you can’t catch your breath, denim shorts and crop tops, forts made out of sheets, pixie cuts, scrunching up your nose, rosy cheeks, freckles across your nose, bohemian tapestries on walls, dancing around the room with friends, apartments with brick walls in the city, sleeping by huge windows, drinking alcohol on rooftops, shirts rolled to the elbows, cute buns, birds sitting on telephone wires, fogged up glass, strumming a guitar, smiling so much that your cheekbones ache, climbing tall trees, contagious laughter, Polaroid pictures, and mosaics with colored glass.

Slytherin: Raising one eyebrow, martinis, marble statues, soft fur blankets on leather couches, tapping your fingernails against a hard surface, perfectly winged eyeliner, sly smirks, champagne flutes, pencil skirts, footprints in fresh snow, tree houses, wandering around the city at night, quotes that describe you perfectly, black and white photography, french perfume, black silk, lingerie, combing wet hair, proving people wrong, shopping with your best friends, mint leaves, keeping a diary, silver rings, staying up all night, black coffee, hand mirrors, little black dresses, pine trees, vanilla scented candles, mascara, stone walls, leather jackets and red lipstick, wine corks, and photo albums.

hogwarts houses & autumn aesthetics

gryffindor. the crackling of fire; roasted marshmallows; loud laughs; soft pillows; socked feet; burning your tongue while sipping a hot drink too quickly; jumping in coloured piles of leaves; the smell of cinnamon, orange and chocolate; hair blowing wildly in the wind; oversized sweaters; listening to loud music through headphones; baking with friends and laughing hysterically at the mess you create; watching stars from the rooftop; lying on the floor in a moment of deep thought

ravenclaw. watching people through foggy windows in cafes; overthinking; clouds of warm breath in the cold air; the cold crisp of air against your face; cups of hot coffee in the morning; listening to the hammering of the rain against the window, or the roof; wrapping up in soft blankets; silent chuckles; hidden smiles; the sound of pages turning; soft scarves; muttering something under your breath while concentrating; loose ponytails; deep conversations at night; paint in warm colours; tired yawns; falling stars

hufflepuff. messy buns; the sound of crunching leaves under your boots; knotted cardigans; wide smiles; star gazing; deep sighs; soft socks; rosy cheeks; fluffy earmuffs; vanilla scented candles; hanging fairy lights everywhere; warm and long hugs; hot chocolate with marshmallows; pumpkin carving; staying in bed just a little bit longer; flower crowns; sunny mornings; walking around with flowers in your jeans pockets; delighted laughs; capturing the last rays of sun with a vintage camera; intertwined fingers; cuddles

slytherin. cold fingertips; walking through the woods; inhaling the cold air at night; content smiles; the feeling you get when you can finally lay in bed after a shitty day; pressing your forehead against a cold window; combat boots and oversized coats; dark lip colours; the flickering of candle light in the darkness; misty mornings; black tea; leather gloves; deep, husky voices; amused smirks; walking barefoot on a cold, wooden floor; black, wide-brimmed hats and vintage sunglasses 

100 Art Objects, Historical Artifacts, and Miscellaneous Loot
  1. A marble bust of a large-nosed woman
  2. A richly woven carpet with nautical patterns
  3. Soft, clean bedsheets sewn with golden thread
  4. A portrait of a bashful looking tiefling
  5. Eight matching silver cups
  6. A ceremonial helm with a daisy motif
  7. A coil of silken cable, intricately braided and tasseled
  8. An ancient fertility sculpture
  9. A nautilus shell
  10. A stack of fine vellum
  11. Richly embroidered blue sleeping robes
  12. A huge tortoise shell
  13. A polished silver looking-glass
  14. A set of gem-encrusted cutlery
  15. Silk handkerchiefs
  16. A necklace thickly adorned with bright feathers
  17. A small dragon skull
  18. A collection of beautiful glass bottles of all colours
  19. A snake skin of tremendous length and quality
  20. Well preserved tapestries depicting an important historical event
  21. A set of fine jewelcrafting tools
  22. A chess set of excellent quality
  23. A set of non-magical but intricately etched daggers
  24. An ermine coat
  25. Soft doeskin boots beautifully crafted for small feet
  26. A collection of flags and banners once flown by nations now extinct
  27. White silk gloves
  28. A satchel made of glossy crimson leather
  29. A rattle made from a cloven hoof
  30. Paper pouches full of dried herbs and spices
  31. A red and silver scepter
  32. A porcelain doll garbed in a beautiful ballgown
  33. A large bismuth crystal
  34. A box containing several elaborately decorated animal masks
  35. A glass orb containing a tablespoon of quicksilver
  36. A vase containing numerous exotic feathers
  37. A golden ceremonial shield featuring an unfamiliar charge
  38. Ten large glass marbles of various colours
  39. A richly illuminated, leather-bound manuscript of local history
  40. A rare coin collection
  41. A massive scarlet crustacean claw
  42. Pots of powdered henna, turmeric, and indigo
  43. A long spiral antelope horn, polished and banded in silver
  44. Two oblong pearls of modest size
  45. An exquisitely preserved fish fossil
  46. A set of lavish quills and two pots of deep blue ink
  47. Three canopic jars, and the broken lid of a fourth
  48. A hand-carved, gold leaf frame, sans painting
  49. A masterful portrait of a stern couple, sans frame
  50. Beautiful horse tack
  51. A glass jar filled with layers of sand of various colours
  52. A snow leopard skin in fine condition
  53. A huge vanilla scented candle
  54. A wooden case containing two dozen bars of sealing wax
  55. A hand-carved mash paddle made from black wood
  56. A silver locket containing a lock of silver hair
  57. A crystal bottle of perfume
  58. A carving made from jet featuring the head of a gorgon
  59. Twelve fine drinking glasses wrapped in cotton
  60. A brass cast of a skull
  61. An ancient ceremonial sword of a powerful queen, its blade half rotted away
  62. A silver flask
  63. A wooden frame containing a complex gear mechanism of unknown purpose
  64. Pouches of very rare seeds that grow into valuable plants
  65. A geode
  66. A tome of forgotten ballads written by a legendary bard
  67. A terribly gaudy cuckoo clock elaborately inlaid with silver and gold
  68. A half-finished bolt of patterned cloth, still attached to the loom
  69. A large tangle of coral
  70. A church bell featuring a religious tale in bas relief
  71. Gold candleabras
  72. A brass statuette of a religious figure
  73. Two oak barrels of alcoholic spirits
  74. A sack of bathing salts
  75. A box of lace
  76. A folder stuffed with dwarven beer recipes
  77. Spools of excellent leather cord
  78. Medicated creams and ointments
  79. A box of colourful makeup
  80. A pouch full of glimmering pearlescent fish scales
  81. A silver dog whistle shaped like a howling wolf
  82. Ivory spice shakers
  83. A jar of herbal honey
  84. A large incisor on a leather thong
  85. Powdered animal parts
  86. Gold false teeth
  87. A bulk lot of mundane smithed items, including locks, hinges, etc.
  88. An empty silver lockbox with key
  89. Elegant red skates
  90. Blue suede shoes
  91. A dried caul
  92. A taxedermied platypus
  93. A censer
  94. Three wax likenesses, one slightly melted
  95. A telescope
  96. A set of tinkling hand bells
  97. Coffee beans
  98. Tortoiseshell combs
  99. Copper bottom cook pots
  100. A flanged steel plug of some kind
the houses as autumn aesthetics
  • slytherin: cold and grey mornings, walking barefoot on the cold floor, drinking coffee in the morning, wool socks, relaxing after a stressful day
  • ravenclaw: waking up early, looking out the window while drinking hot tea, staying up for too long reading a book u like, falling asleep to the sound of rain
  • gryffindor: sweaters that are too big, walking in the forest while quietly singing, sitting infront of the fireplace when its cold, vanilla scented candles
  • hufflepuff: wearing jackets that are too big, taking a walk while its raining, wool sweaters, kicking leaves while ur walking, autumn scented candles
What The Signs Remind Me Of

Aries: late night cruises, loud music in the car. forgetting to do something till the last minute. dirty sneakers, winged liner, black ripped jeans. the colour red. sloppy first kiss, pastel bedrooms, messy sheets.

Taurus: flirty conversations, sexual jokes. the smell of coffee in the morning, falling in love for the first time. making cookies late at night, coconut water. leather jackets, comic books. pugs, bad driving.

Gemini: late night conversations, random phone calls. swimming pools, the colour purple, long lashes. sweatshirts, new clothes, reading books, watching Netflix, random movie marathons, popcorn.

Keep reading

Boxes and Lemniscates

Title: Boxes and Lemniscates

Summary: Logan stumbles across something called a comfort box and decides to make one for Virgil. However, he quickly discovers that he’ll need Patton and Roman’s help to make anything worthwhile—because it’s not like he can make anything good on his own, after all.

Word Count: 3,481

Warnings: minor self-loathing

Ship: polyamsanders

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst, @pippa-frost, @cup-of-blue, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @prplzorua, @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries, @madelynnaa, @sanderships, @ace-anxiety-sanders, @frustratedwaffle, @the-diaries-of-a-nerd

beta’d by the exceptional @randomslasher and @thuriweaver!

Logan is scrolling through Tumblr (an act which, he has discovered, greatly assists him in learning modern slang vocabulary) when he stumbles upon a post regarding boxes. Ordinarily, he would scroll right past it, but as he does a word catches his eye—anxiety. His curiosity is immediately piqued. Any information about the other sides is useful.

This, while perhaps not about Thomas’ sides directly, may allow him further insight into others’ dealings with anxiety, which might in turn offer him a greater grasp on what Virgil deals with. Perhaps it’s a long shot, but he’s willing to try. No time spent trying to understand one of his boyfriends can be considered wasted.

Besides, cubes are his favorite shape, after lemniscates, and a box is basically a cube.

The post, however, turns out to be less about boxes and more about what’s inside of them. It details a thing called a comfort box, which it insists can help ease anxiety if used appropriately. Suggested contents of said box are objects that appear to engage as many senses as possible in a soothing way. By doing this, the post declares, the box can serve as both a distraction and a comfort for those who suffer from heightened anxiety.

Logan is, to say the least, skeptical. He has often found that the best way to calm Virgil—and thus anxiety—is by talking their way through whatever troubles him. Patton’s hugs and cookies (snickerdoodles, specifically, although the peanut butter ones will suffice as well) also seem to help. Roman’s boisterous stories and jokes, too, usually serve to make Virgil relax—sometimes they even get him to laugh.

But, Logan supposes, extra comfort can never hurt—and he knows himself well enough to know that he won’t stop thinking about the possibilities of this box until he’s run an appropriate experiment.

That night, he excuses himself from his boyfriends’ movie-watching extravaganza, and they let him go without much of a fuss. For a moment, he allows himself to feel immensely grateful for them. They’ve begun to understand—he needs to focus, he needs to work, and if he needs to do that instead of watching a movie with them (not that that’s not fun, it’s just not his idea of mentally stimulating) they’ll let him. Of course, if he begins skipping every night, he’s certain that they’ll question him. They’ll let him exercise his mind, but they won’t let him run himself into the ground and oh, how he loves them for it.

The first thing he does when he slips into his room is conjure up a box. Its dimensions are 16x16x16 (all in inches), leaving it with a volume of 4,096 cubic inches, which Logan thinks is suitable for the items he’s selected. The first things to go in are a DVD copy of The Black Cauldron, followed closely by an MP3 player with several My Chemical Romance, Fallout Boy, and Gorillaz albums on it. Next is a jigsaw puzzle of the galaxy with one hundred pieces—simple enough that Virgil shouldn’t become frustrated putting it together, but complex enough that it should encourage him to focus.

After that, he slips in a package of peppermints—the kind that make Logan’s tongue burn and the air feel cold when he breathes through his mouth, sharp and piquant. A pair of noise-cancelling headphones go in next, along with a small box of Logan’s favorite herbal teas. Finally, he puts in a small card with crisis hotlines on it. His gut clenches as he does, and he hopes that Virgil never has to use them, but—but just in case, they’ll be there.

Once he’s done, he crouches in front of the box and takes a moment to study it. It seems much emptier than he had envisioned—perhaps he had miscalculated the volume he would need to fit everything inside. Unlikely, but possible. So maybe if he conjures up another one, but smaller—

A sudden hammering knock at his door startles Logan from his thoughts. “Logan, Patton is making cake and he wants to know if you want any. Do you want any? Logan? Are you listening to me? Do you have headphones on? Are you listening to that silly piano guy again? What’s his name? Bait oven? Whatever. That’s nerd stuff. But hey—hey, Logan. Logan, do you want any cak—”

Letting his breath out in an enormous whoosh, Logan crosses to the door and opens it to reveal Roman. “No, I do not want cake, and for your information, it’s Beethoven, and he’s not just a piano guy, he was one of the most important and influential composers of the—”

“What’s that?” Roman peers curiously over his shoulder.

“It’s a box.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I meant why do you have a box?”

“If you meant ‘why do you have a box?’ then why didn’t you just say ‘why do you have a box?’ instead of ‘what’s that?’ Really, your communication ability leaves something to be desired. It—”

Roman waves him off. “Quit deflecting. If you don’t wanna say, don’t say.”

Logan pauses and frowns. Deflecting? He’s not deflecting. He’s merely attempting to eradicate Roman’s ignorance (an everlasting and thankless job) but, well, he supposes he is avoiding the question. And why? It’s not like the box has to be a secret. Secrets are irrational.

Still, he wishes that maybe, just this once, he could’ve done something nice for someone without help. It seems as though he always needs help to be kind, and he dislikes it—extremely.

Looking back at his bare, empty little box however, he knows that perhaps (the facts have added up, over the years) he simply cannot be kind on his own. Certainly he can try, but he must be missing something—some essential thing that the other three have, a thing that enables them to create and love and protect.

Something better than mere intelligence.

“It’s a comfort box for Virgil,” Logan says, sighing. He’s not selfish enough to try to do something on his own when the blatant fact that he can’t is clear. His box isn’t good enough for Virgil, but maybe with Roman’s help, and perhaps Patton’s, it can be.

“A what?”

“A comfort box. It’s supposed to soothe feelings of anxiety by stimulating the senses and allowing an individual to distract themselves, although I’ve no idea how accurate that statement is, as I’ve yet to test it myself.”

“The box does that?”

“Well, more specifically, the contents of the box. You can look, if you want.”

Roman goes to sit on Logan’s bed, picking the box up and rifling through it—although he is, Logan is pleased to notice, putting everything back where it belongs once he’s examined it. “This is cool,” he says. “A little minimalist, but—”

“Yes, exactly, that’s the problem,” Logan says. “So you should help me.”

“Help you what?”

“Fix the box.”

“I mean, there’s really nothing to fix.”

Logan stares pointedly at the box in Roman’s arms, plain and unassuming and minimalist. “That was sarcasm, correct?”

“No, I’m serious. I think it’s really—”

“Can’t you just—oh, I don’t know, add something?”

“Like what?”

“Be creative.”

Roman snorts. “If you insist. First things first—we’re looking for comforting things, right? Like self-care stuff?”

“That sounds adequate, yes.”

“Great. In that case—” Roman twirls his hand and an array of items materialize on Logan’s bed. There are bath bombs (lavender and lemon and mint, if Logan is recognizing the colors correctly) along with vanilla-scented lotion, small candles in a variety of soothing scents, and a bar of milk chocolate. “How’s that?”

Logan stacks the items neatly into the box, and now it’s more than halfway full. “Good,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Oh, wait—one more thing.” Roman conjures up a coloring book of intricate patterns and a box of colored pencils. “Here. And then maybe we could put something on the outside of the box, too.”

“Hm, that’s—not a bad idea, actually.”

“Okay, here. Take this and draw something on that side. I’ll work on this one.”

“Like what?” Logan asks, critically examining the navy marker that Roman hands him.

“I dunno, math equations or something, whatever. Just make it seem like you.”

Logan does not think that he is very comforting, and thus nothing he makes will be, but he’s willing to entertain the idea if it’s Roman’s. Despite the fact that many of Roman’s ideas are completely ridiculous, the few that aren’t are often impeccable. After a long moment of contemplation, Logan sketches a graph on his side of the box and plots a lemniscate on it.

“Oh, that’s cute,” Roman says, when he finishes his side—it’s an intricate picture of himself in a crown. Well, it’s the thought that counts, Logan supposes. “An infinity sign.”

“A lemniscate.”

“What language is that?”

“English,” Logan says, baffled. “The shape is called a lemniscate.”

“No, that’s an infinity sign.”

“Perhaps in the common vernacular it can be addressed as such, but its true name is lemniscate.”

Roman holds his hands up. “Okay, okay, fine. Your box, your weird lemniscate.”

Logan nods, satisfied, and hands his marker back to Roman. “Very well. Thank you. Go and fetch Patton now, please.”

“You don’t think that’s suspicious?”

“Why would it be suspicious?”

“This is Virgil we’re talking about. Everything is suspicious to him. I was supposed to come down, like, ten minutes ago, and now I’m sending Patton up to your room? Sounds sketch.”

Logan waves him off. “Let it be sketch, then, just don’t let him come up here.”

“You got it.”

Roman slips out of his room, and Patton comes bounding in not two minutes later. “Heya, Teach, what’s up?” he asks.

“I need you to help me with this box.”

“You need my help? Oh, golly gee willikers, I thought this day would never come.”

“Yes, yes, enough gloating. It’s a comfort box for Virgil, so put comforting things inside of it, please.”

“Oh my goodness that is such a cute idea—you’re just the nicest guy, Lo—”

Logan shakes his head—he’s not nice or he would’ve been able to do this by himself. All he can do is nudge the others in the right direction. They’re the ones that actually do the nice thing. “Come on, before Virgil decides to come and investigate what we’re doing.”

Into the box Patton puts bubble wrap, stickers, a small stuffed dog, a fluffy black blanket, and a glitter jar that even Logan concedes looks fascinating when it’s shaken. On his side of the box he draws hearts and stars, puppies and kittens, and a large smiley face. “There,” he says, once he’s done. “How’s that?”

Logan looks contemplatively at it. One side of the box is still plain, but perhaps Virgil can color on it to make it more his. It’s quite full now, too, and Logan feels something untwist in his chest. He has done a good thing—albeit not alone (he can never do good things alone) but the point remains. “It’s adequate,” he says. “Thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Do you want me to go get Virgil?”

Logan hesitates—but he doubts he can make the box any better than it is. If Roman and Patton are finished with it, then there’s nothing more for him to contribute. “Yes, please.”

Patton practically skips down the hall, calling, “Virgil, Virgil, Logan has a surprise for you, you’re gonna love it, c’mere c’mere c’mere—”

Virgil appears grudgingly in his doorway several seconds later, flanked by a bright-eyed Roman, and a Patton who is nearly trembling with excitement. Before he can speak, Logan holds the box out to him. “What’s that?” Virgil asks, making no move to take it.

“It’s a comfort box,” Logan says. He doesn’t meet Virgil’s eyes, but it’s not because he’s scared, of all things. It’s only—only, well, he really hopes he hasn’t overstepped his boundaries and made Virgil embarrassed or made himself look like a fool or—

“A what?” Virgil says, accepting the box from Logan and setting it on the desk to open.

“A comfort box. It’s supposed to help with feelings of anxiety by—” Logan stops, his words momentarily rendered unimportant upon seeing Virgil’s face as he begins looking through the box. Logan, having studied body language quite intently during Thomas’ acting lessons, thinks that his expression hovers somewhere between wondering and stunned.

“This is for me?” Virgil asks quietly.

“Yes,” Logan says. “Do you…like it?”

The smile that Virgil bestows upon him then is one of his rarest—bright and open and adoring, his eyes crinkled at the corners and dimples showing. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I like it just a little bit.”

Patton squeals and wraps Virgil up in a joyful hug. “Oh, I’m so glad. You deserve it, kiddo.”

“I, too, am pleased that you find our labor of love to be satisfactory,” Roman says, straightening his shoulders a tad arrogantly, Logan thinks.

“It was Logan’s idea,” Patton says. “Isn’t he just the sweetest thing, oh my goodness—c’mere, Lo, pretty please.”

Logan crosses the room to stand before Virgil, back straight and eyes averted. Patton latches onto his arm and does his emotions thing, nuzzling his face against Logan’s and making happy sounds. “It was nothing, really. I merely found the idea on Tumblr—”

“You’re on Tumblr?” Virgil asks, startled.

“Never mind that. I gave the others the idea—which, mind you, was not technically mine in the first place—and they did most of the work. Patton is over-exaggerating the role that I played, but I do find myself pleased that you enjoy it.”

“Patton? Over-exaggerate? Why, always,” Roman says. “However, inexplicably enough, not this time. It was Logan who motivated us to make the box—although I shall take credit where credit is due and say that I clearly drew the best picture.”

“Thank you, Lo,” Virgil says, and when Logan finally meets his eyes they’re wide and unbearably fond.

“I didn’t do all the work,” Logan protests, glancing away again. “It was primarily Patton and Roman. I merely gave them direction, as per usual.”

“Hey, come over here.” Virgil holds an arm out and Logan slides under it, fitting himself to Virgil’s side. At least this way Virgil won’t try to catch his gaze anymore. “I know you didn’t do everything—and thank you, Patton, Roman, very much. But you are the one who gave them direction, Logan, so don’t think any less of yourself for that.”

“But that doesn’t matter,” Logan says, his frustration with—with himself, with this whole ordeal, finally boiling over. “Anyone could have seen the post on Tumblr, anyone could have said ‘why don’t we make a comfort box for Virgil?’ and it would have been just as well constructed without my help. It may even have been better. When it comes to doing nice things, that’s not—that’s not me. That’s them. I just tell them what to do. They’re the ones who get it done.”

The other three fall completely silent. Patton and Roman both fix him with shocked gazes and Virgil’s arm drops off of his shoulders. For a moment, vulnerability is a quivering and terrified thing in the center of Logan’s chest. He shouldn’t have said that. He should be celebrating the gift they’ve given Virgil, not complaining about what he can and cannot do. That was self-centered. He’ll have to apologize. Patton says apologies are polite and necessary if you’ve done something wrong. So—

“I’m sorry,” Logan says. “That was a poorly-timed outburst. Please disregard—”

“No,” Virgil says, and suddenly his arms are back around Logan, pulling him into a tight embrace. “No way in hell am I disregarding that.”

“Oh, honey,” Patton says, stepping closer and running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Of course you can do things by yourself.”

“Yes, I am aware of that,” Logan says, his voice muffled by confusion and Virgil’s shoulder. “But I cannot do anything good by myself.”

Roman takes one of his hands, unlatching it from its death grip on Virgil’s hoodie (when had he begun to clutch that?) and lacing their fingers together. “You certainly can. Whatever makes you think otherwise?”

“Now is not an appropriate time for such introspection. We should be allowing Virgil to examine and appreciate his box, or at least—”

“Now is the perfect time for such introspection,” Virgil says, fingers scratching gently over his spine. A shiver twists its way through Logan as he does. “You’re more important than fussing about a box—however lovely that box may be. So—what makes you think you can’t do anything good alone?”

Logan sighs and relents—his boyfriends, whilst endearing, are also hellishly stubborn. (And oh, how he wishes he could believe them. Maybe, technically, they are right, and he can do good things by himself, but—but he just doesn’t know how, and that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?) “I was going to make the box alone, at first, but I wasn’t creative or emotional enough to obtain a satisfactory end product. It’s the same with most everything I do. Certainly, I can do some things—many things—but they will never be as nice as they could be when I have all of your help.”

“But that’s the same for all of us,” Patton says. “We can all make things on our own, but they’ll never be as good as they are when we work together.”

“I know, but—you see, the things that you and Roman and Virgil create alone will always be better than what I create alone. Patton, the things you make are full of—of love or joy or sadness, and they’re always brilliant. They have the ability to move others emotionally.”

“Aww, Lo.” Patton’s voice sounds suspiciously wobbly. “Thank you.”

“And what Roman creates is always, naturally, creative. He’s an artist, that’s what he does, and he does it well. He can create something out of nothing, and it’s rather incredible.”

“True,” Roman says, “and thank you. But—”

“And Virgil, the things he creates are—well, negative, yes, but they manage to be both creative and emotional. Some of the things he thinks up terrify me, and I, rationally, know that they are not real and cannot harm me.”

“Thank you, I think?” Virgil says.

“But the things I create are—are boring,” Logan says, hunching his shoulders. “There’s nothing admirable about them, save perhaps that they can be useful, from time to time, and encourage the three of you to do something even better.”

“Logan, you—hey, look at us, please,” Roman says, and Logan reluctantly lifts his face from the safety of Virgil’s shoulder. “The stuff you create is awesome. Like patterns! I use patterns all the time when I’m creating things, but I wouldn’t be able to use them without you. Like—like you literally made an infinity sign out of a mathematical equation.”

Logan glances at the box and his lemnsicate—boring, plain, unnecessarily complex. “I’m glad you like them, but—”

“And routines,” Virgil adds. “You make routines that work for us, which helps me feel a lot better. It’s comforting. You’re comforting.”

Well—well, perhaps that’s one way to look at it. (Another is that he’s a control freak.) “I’m happy that you think so, although—”

“And body language,” Patton says. “The way you understand what people are feeling just by analyzing how they stand, or how they move, it’s fantastic—and it’s really helpful when I’m trying to decide how to respond.”

Maybe. “Okay, so I may possibly—”

“There’s no possibly about it,” Roman says. “The things you create alone are just as good as any of the things the rest of us do. Okay?”

Logan drops his head and sighs into Virgil’s shoulder.

“Logan, okay?” Roman says, cupping the back of Logan’s neck. “Understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” Logan says—and he does understand. Even if he does not believe it, he understands what they’re saying, and maybe—maybe they’re right. Maybe. “Maybe you are correct.”

“I know we are,” Roman says.

“You’re wonderful with us or on your own, sweetheart,” Patton says, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple.

“And Logan?” Virgil says.

“Hm?”

“Thank you. I really like the box. The infinity sign is a nice touch.”

“It’s a lemniscate.”

“A what?”

“The shape is called a lemniscate.”

Virgil laughs and brings a hand up to cup the back of Logan’s head, ruffling his hair. “Okay. I really like your lemniscate.”

A smile tugs at Logan’s mouth, although he’s careful to keep it hidden against Virgil’s hoodie. “Thank you. I—I like it too, I think.”

“Good.” Virgil pulls back enough to give him a crooked smile. “You should.”

“I hate to interrupt this emotional moment,” Roman says, glancing towards the doorway, “but does anyone else smell something burning?”

Logan pauses, sniffing the air and yes, that smells like smoke. “Oh. Was it—perhaps—Patton, did you ever take your cake out of the oven?”

Patton freezes for only a moment, his eyes widening in horror—and then he bolts for the stairs, shrieking, “My cake!”

Replenish (Jimin AMBW Smut)

Sorry for the wait- here’s your request @tropicalwinchesters I hope you enjoy!

“Ughhhh.” You groaned softly as you leaned against the door with your body groggy and completely done with the day. You gripped at your keys dragging them slowly from your purse to stick them into the keyhole turning it slowly so that you could unlock the door. Your feet were throbbing from the long shift that you worked in your heels. Your job required you to dress the part and sometimes wear heels and today was one of those days. It felt like your feet had their own heart beat with each step you took into the house. Though you started off looking good your hair was becoming a big poof ball resulting in you putting it up in a bun as you tried to get through the day. Once you were inside of the house, you took off your shoes throwing them down onto the floor beside the door. You shut it before placing your purse on the couch as you walked through the front room towards the kitchen smelling the food aroma that filled the air. You could hear the distinct sizzle of the pan and a soft melodic laughter slipping from your lover’s lips as he listened to something on the television screen.

“Baby.” You called out weakly as your hands gripped onto the counter, you pulled out a chair to sit in, the bright light from the kitchen triggering a slight headache as you stare at the back of your lover. He was holding a fork in one hand poking at some meat in the pot, he had on baggy sweat pants and a long sleeve red shirt that showed off his biceps. He turned around to look at you tilting his head with a slight smile, his tanned skin glowing as he flashed his teeth. His dark brown hair falling into his eyes parted down the middle.

“Baby you look like shit.” He admitted softly trying to get you to laugh.

“Gee thanks baby you’re so encouraging.” The corner of your lips dropping down into a frown as you watched him. He clutched at his heart playfully as he gripped at a plate turning back around to fix food onto both plates, and moved to slid them into the oven. Once it was set he moved towards you, walking behind you he gripped at your shoulders giving them a deep squeeze causing you to let out a strangled cry from how good it felt for him to take away some of the tension there. Your shoulders seeming to match the throbbing of your feet.

“Someone had a hard day at work huh?” He asked softly pressing a kiss onto the back of your neck as his hands moved across your skin kneading and gripping onto your flesh. You nodded your head looking at the pan where the food had just been feeling your stomach tighten and ripple out a growl. “Do you want talk about it?” He asked softly and you shook your head huffing.

“No, I just really want to get over today and have some distractions.” You admitted as you tried to look up at him.

“Then.. Wait right here. And no touching the food.” Jimin warned stealing a kiss from your lips. And like that he was gone leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your fingers drummed against the table as you laid your chin against one of the palms of your hands. Your eyes skimmed from the stove to the television and back. Jimin’s words rung through your ears but your stomach was resisting the will for you to behave and head warnings.

“Stop looking.” Jimin joked as he trodden back into the kitchen going to the cabinet to grab at a clear wine glass for you. He sat it down on the counter before he opened the fridge to get out your favorite bottle of wine. He poured the red wine into the glass sliding it to you with a gentle smile on his lips. He waited for you to take a few sips before he was picking you up carrying you into the room. He let you hold onto him as he sat you down on the bed, he let you finish the wine as he started to push the upper half of your body back against the bed. He gripped at the tight pencil skirt you had on sliding it down your legs before he reached for your button up shirt. Undoing the buttons slowly, you watched him with hooded eyes feeling your want for him creep up but you were so damn tired. Jimin made sure to undo each button before he pushed the shirt over your shoulders letting it pool against your wrist. You finished off the glass of wine and he waited patiently for you to do so but once you were done he gripped at the glass sitting it down on the stand beside the bed. He stood you up to slid your panties down your legs and he moved to grip at your bra unsnapping it from behind you letting it slide off your shoulders. He picked you up bridal style, shutting the light off into your room turning your lamp on so that it was dim in the room. He carried you into the bathroom and a soft gasp left your lips. He had music playing in the bathroom from the stereo on the wall. There was a mix of red rose and vanilla scented candles that light up the room along the sink and the tub. The water had rose petals into it and bubbles that rose in different designs. Jimin smiled at you as he sat you down into the tub gently, letting you relax. He stripped off his shirt at first just sitting beside you, reaching over to take your hair down from the bun it was in. You released a soft groan and he just watched you as his hands rubbed at your scalp.

“Does it feel good?” He asked softly and you nodded your head, leaning into his touch with your eyes finally dropping closed. He pulled back after some time to grab at a towel letting the water get onto it, he lifted it up to squeeze the water and let it cascade down onto your hair wetting it. You smiled gratefully as he took care of you dampening your hair. He moved to get the shampoo, getting on his knees he poured some into your hair letting it lather up before he started to wash it. He made sure to scrub and get the soap all over your head making sure to clean your hair before he rinsed it and put conditioner next. He had been with you for so long he knew how to take care of your hair better than you did sometimes. He smiled lovingly at you pressing a kiss against your lips as he soaped up a towel next starting to wash your body off. His touches were soft and gentle the cloth moving down the valley of your breast and over your stomach. He lifted your legs up washing them off one by one, before he sat them back down and let the towel get wet once again before he started to rinse your body off. Once he was done he was going to leave but you reached out for him opening your eyes with a pout.

“Sit with me and relax? I want daddy..” You mumbled slightly looking into the water. Sometimes you just needed to be taken care of and tonight was one of those nights. Jimin nodded his head, stripping off his clothes he moved to crawl into the tub behind you pulling you onto his lap. You sat in a quiet silence just listening to music and vibing together. The steam rose off both of your bodies as the hot water enveloped your skin. Jimin let his wet hands lift to rub soothing circles into your hips as he started to talk to you about everything and nothing all at once.

His voice had gotten deeper due to the relaxed state he was in while he was with you. His hands moved across your stomach so that he could press the pads of his fingers harder into your skin loving the groans and mewls he was eliciting from your lips. His hands trailed lower to your thighs, he was on a roll making sure he was touching the spots that made your body react with little litters of goosebumps. He hummed softly leaning down to start and pepper kisses along your jaw until he was letting his lips rest against your neck. He inhaled your scent, loving being this close to you he realized how needy he was for you in this exact moment. His hands started to wander, his legs lifted your up and parted your thighs, his fingers moving to dance across the insides of your thighs massaging the skin there. He let his fingers start at the skin against your knees before he trailed them higher up your thighs right against your heat on either side but he never once touched you were he knew you were starting to want him the most.

“Jimin.” You groaned softly and he shook his head swiping his tongue across your neck.

“Patience kitten.” He cooed out as he slid his hand back down your legs and once again back towards the inside of your thighs. His hands were becoming bolder in movements. Sliding up from your thighs to the lower part of your stomach he let his nails slightly drag across your bottom stomach and you shuddered moving around his lap softly. He let his tongue drag across your pulse point, one of his hands moving to dip down and press against your pussy causing you to gasp in pleasure.

“Jimin, please.” You whined out, wanting it but not wanting to be exhausted.

“Let daddy help replenish you.” He muttered hotly against your ear, a smile curling on his lips. His hand covered the area of your pussy, one hand rested against your lower stomach as he let his hand move up and down the whole length of your pussy, teasing it and playfully dipping his finger down between your lips only to pull his fingers out. He teased your pussy a bit more before his hands were pressing down against your clit. He let the pads of his fingers rub against your pert bud, chuckling to himself at how your juices slipped into the water. Your eyes drifted shut as your hips pressed against his hand, trying to meet his motions with little thrusts of his hips, you could feel your lust slowly build up as he rubbed at your pussy. Jimin was great at pushing your buttons. He knew your body well and knew when you would tick from the right things especially when you were tired. His fingers slowly slid down your slit as he spread your pussy lips wide to let the hot water press against you. Your hips jolted and Jimin slapped your pussy lightly before he let his middle finger slowly circle around your entrance. You bit on your bottom lip tilting your head slightly to feel his tongue on your skin more. He pushed in his finger slowly, pushing it until he made sure his knuckle was buried deep inside of you. Your mouth parted to let his name roll off your lips softly. He started to pull it out of your pussy dragging it slowly against your walls before he pushed it back in. Your hips pushed back against his lap and grinded against his finger every time he entered it inside of you. He slipped in his ring finger next, just letting the both of them sit inside of you. He was stretching you out, but in his own way as he held his fingers there.

“Jimin!” You whined out looking at him. He gave you one look that made you shut up your protest as you looked off pouting.

“Fuck, you’re so cute when you’re needy.” He teased as he fingered you slowly, scissoring his fingers in and out of you, making a come-hither motion inside of your pussy. You enjoyed the feeling of his fingers pushing deep inside of your pussy, your hips rolling around in a circle. “Do you like it when I touch you here baby girl? Do you like how I finger your pussy?” He questioned softly as he added another finger inside of you, his free hand moving up to cup your breast. He let his fingers pinch at your nipples before he started to roll his fingers over the flesh his fingers grazing at your nipples. Your body was becoming on fire, little hitches of your breath left your lips as he pleasured you in the tub. The water cascaded down your thighs as you bucked your hips up against his hands. Jimin pushed his thick fingers deeper, using his wrist to flick his fingers deeper inside of you pressing right against your spot.

“Fuck Jimin- shit right there.” Your hand moved to grip at his hair, pulling on the locks he was eager to pound his fingers inside of you adding another finger letting all four stretch inside of you.

“Damn look at how your pussy is taking my fingers. It seems you’re being a little greedy girl tonight. We will have to do something about that.” Jimin promised biting on your earlobe pulling onto the flesh. He moved to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in a circle as he continued to thrust his fingers into your tight pussy and you were on edge. Your free hand moving to grip at the tub as the other hand continued to hold onto Jimin’s hair. His dark locks feeling good to grab at as your orgasm started to swim in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Are you going to let me feel your cum all over my fingers?” He asked and you nodded eagerly as your hips jerked harder against his thrusts. In a matter of seconds, you were cumming on his fingers your back arching as your body locked up, your juices slipping out to mix into the water and onto Jimin’s fingers. He growled softly feeling the wetness and how tightly you were wrapping around his digits. He let you ride out your orgasm until you were done, he pulled out his fingers slowly, pressing them against your lips you parted them to suck and slurp on his digits cleaning them.

“Look at that. That’s right baby girl get them nice and fucking clean.” You heard him whisper to you, feeling his hard dick against the crack of your ass excited you more and you couldn’t help but grind back against him, trying to edge him on. He pulled his fingers from your lips slowly before he turned you around, you looked down at him with hazy eyes your hands moving to rest on his broad shoulders. Jimin wrapped your legs around his waist as he gripped at the base of his cock to rub it up and down your soaking pussy lips.

“Look at how hard you’ve made me. Fuck you’ve made daddy so hard.” He groaned as he pushed you down onto his lap letting his thick shaft slip past your entrance. He stretched you out, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close as he started to lift you off his shaft before he slid you back down onto his cock. Your hands gripped at his hair at the nape of his neck playing with the soft strands as you helped him out, grinding your hips back and circling it every time your hips met one by one.

“You make daddy feel so good. Your pussy feels so good around my cock. You always make me feel so good kitten. I love your pussy, I love being buried inside of you. Let me take your stress. Let it go and enjoy me.” He muttered against your ear as he thrust up against you. His hands moved to grip at your ass helping you grind against him as he did the same. The water started to splash and spill onto the floor creating puddles around the both of you as Jimin took you slowly. He looked around at the candles that were melting and though they were all in place holders he didn’t want to risk the water blowing them out. He picked you up slowly, holding your body as he let the water continue to splash. Your legs wrapping around his waist he carried you out of the tub and walked slowly through the bathroom until he was pressing you down onto the bed.

He looked down at you kissing your lips before he buried his face in your neck his hands gripping at the sheets beside your head. He let his legs spread out to press down against the sheets, your legs draped around his lower back as the heels of your feet pressed into his lower back. He started to grind deep into you giving you long deep strokes. He didn’t fuck you, it was more like he was making love to you, your hands clung onto him, fingers dragging across his wet skin. It was hard to dig your nails into his skin but you tried for dear life. Your head moved to rest back against the sheets of your shared bed. Your hips continued to thrust up against his, you were impatient but you tried to let him take the slow pace, his hand moving down to rub against your clit slowly, your hips started to buck faster against his and he complied moving to push your hips down into the bed rutting into you. His fingers moved faster on your clit, tapping and pressing against the wetness as it soaked out his fingers. He groaned as he felt your walls starting to clamp down around his shaft like a vice. He was becoming a bit rougher with his thrusts moving to lean his head down to suck on your breast, tugging on your pert nipples with his teeth, he let his tongue press against the puckered bud and he enveloped as much into his mouth as he could. Your hands gripped at his hair pulling him closer as your hips ground against each other.

“Please harder daddy. Please keep it there.” You begged out to him, and he continued to snap his hips against yours.

“Come on, cum for me. Let me feel your juices on my dick. I want to feel it all.” Jimin softly cooed against your ear with a hazy voice. You did as told, making sure that you wrapped your pussy around his dick as tight as you could. You met your orgasm cumming on his shaft, as he rubbed your clit but he didn’t stop there he continued to slap at your pussy and rub it harder, causing you to ultimately squirt and cum again as he filled you to the brim with his cum. He picked you up and pulled you into his lap, the sheets were wet from your bodies and the juices from your pussy. Jimin held you and kissed on your skin. Marking your neck and collarbones with hickeys as he bounced you harshly on his lap. Your head was tilted back and broken sobs of pleasure left your lips as he fucked into you. You didn’t think you could cum again, your pussy was sore but you gave into him and let him do what he wanted. Soon you were cumming on his shaft once more and he helped you ride it out holding you close.

“Good girl. So fucking good.” He cooed out letting his lips kiss against yours. He nuzzled your nose before he laid backwards with you on his lap stroking at your hair.

“How do you feel now baby?” He asked softly biting on his bottom lip as he watched you.

“I feel replenished and like I can get a good night sleep now.” You teased with a light yawn shutting your eyes and holding onto him.

“Well, since tomorrow is your day off I’m going to feed you. And then we are going to see if I can get you to black out from how much I’m going to fuck you.” He promised playing in your hair

Birthday Princess

Yikes this was supposed to go up on Ash’s birthday, but you get the point. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Another drunken line of girls passed by me on a determined path to the bathroom, bumping the cheap tiara on my head in the process. I huffed in response while adjusting the ridiculously glittery ‘Birthday Girl’ sash my friends bought and took the opportunity to swipe the newly freed seats near the bar so I could people-watch. An overflow of sweaty bodies wriggled and swayed on every inch of the dance floor free of inhibition due to their intoxication levels. Some men were getting encouraging pats on the backs from their wolf packs of friends before shooting their shot with whichever girl happened to be giggling their way. People throughout the club whooped and hollered when the DJ switched to some vaguely different genre of party music that the lively crowd could fist-bump and grind to.

After straining my neck to check the entrance of the club for the umpteenth time in the past 15 minutes, I turned back around to see a mesmerizing pair of hazel eyes peering into mine. I hadn’t realized how deeply I was staring until the wavy-haired individual tried speaking to me over the loud music.

“I’m sorry, what?” I shouted closer to him.

“I asked if you wanted a refill,” he said loudly while gesturing to my half empty water.

My phone buzzed in my hand, indicating I was getting a text. I briefly looked down at the preview of the message from my friends’ group chat.

Sent at 8:43pm

1: Y/N I’m so sorry honey I can’t make it :( I thought I could cram for this test but there’s way more content than I thought

Sent at 8:44pm

2: ^^ me too :/ my boyfriend’s game went into overtime and I’m pretty sure they’re celebrating after. Maybe another time?

I rolled my eyes and looked back up at the stranger clearing the table of leftover drinks and glasses.

“Actually, I think I was just heading out,” I said standing from my seat.

“So soon?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, clubbing on your birthday just doesn’t have the same ring to it when you’re by yourself,” I replied.

“You don’t have any friends coming to celebrate with you?” He questioned as he wiped the table down and went behind the bar counter.

I followed his trail and answered with evident irritation, “Nope, they suddenly had other plans that were more important this evening.”

“Well,” he planted both of his hands on the counter, “I, in good conscious, can’t let you end tonight as the unhappy birthday girl.”

“And why is that?” I asked curiously.

“Because I’m going to become your new favorite barkeep,” he said with a proud smile. “And it is with this new title that I solemnly promise,” he raised his right hand as if he was taking an oath, “…to ensure that the rest of tonight does not suck for you.”

A small smirk grew on my face at the mischievous man in front of me.

“You can’t be serious, right?” I asked incredulously. “I don’t even know you!”

“How about this, birthday girl” he glanced at a few people walking up to the bar, most likely to order new drinks, “My name is Ashton. I like going on adventures and buying vanilla scented candles. My favorite part of movies are the trailers and I don’t understand how zodiac signs work. I’m gonna come back over here at 9 when my shift ends. If you decide by then that you don’t think an innocent night of fun with me is better than sitting at home by yourself, I will personally call you an Uber and let you go home,” he smiled walking away.

“You should add ‘cocky’ to that little bio of yours,” I playfully said with my arms crossed.

“Not cocky!” He shouted over his shoulder, “just hopeful.”


Promptly at 9:00, Ashton popped out of a room near the back of the club in his normal clothes and re-approached me at the bar.

“So, birthday girl,” he leaned on the counter, “what’s our verdict?”

“Well seeing as you made such an appealing case and I don’t want to put this outfit to waste, I think one night of adventure couldn’t hurt,” I said in a posh tone of voice.

“Then what are we waiting around for?” He asked holding his hand out. I grabbed it and he helped me out of my seat. “Let’s get this party started.”

With that, Ashton led me out of the club and towards the parking lot. He pulled out his car keys and hit the unlock button, bringing my eyes to the flashing headlights on a black mustang.

“This is you?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged and replied opening the passenger door for me, “Well I can’t have the birthday princess walking around on her feet all night now, can I?”

“How considerate of you. And when did I upgrade to princess?” I said getting into the car and reaching over to open his door.

Ashton entered on his side of the car and strapped on his safety belt before brandishing that smile of his once more to answer, “When you decided to spend your night with me.” With that remark, Ashton revved up the engine and we dashed through the streets filled with nightlife.


My eyes scanned the various strings of bright lights and neon signs on the buildings near us as the car slowed to a stop. Ashton and I exited the car and re-joined hands as he led me towards the entrance of a building that had a string of people waiting in line to enter. We approached the bouncer - who could easily be mistaken for a ten-foot brick wall - with an icy glare.

“Sam!” Ashton shouted with open arms. The bouncer turned around and suddenly smiled widely, “Ashton!” The two shared a brief hug and fell into small talk.

“How long has it been man?” The bouncer said.

“It’s definitely been too long, buddy, but I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to show my friend here a good time,” Ashton said gesturing to me.

I shook Sam’s outreached hand and smiled, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Any friend of Ashton is a friend of mine.”

“Do you think you can let us in? I want to introduce her to Mitchy,” Ashton politely asked.

“Of course, but you know the drill man,” Sam giving a side eye towards the line of hopeful club goers beginning to look towards us.

Ashton nodded understandably and leaned towards me to whisper, “Just go with it.”

Before I could ask what ‘it’ was that Ashton was referring to, Sam started shouting.

“Look dammit, I’m not gonna say it again: if you want in you have to wait in line just like everybody else!”

“Fine! No need to get all testy,” Ashton shouted back while we walked backwards with displeased expressions.

While the people waiting in line hooted their agreements at Sam and went back to their own business, Sam winked at us and let down the rope for us to enter while whispering, “You guys enjoy your night,” with a thumbs-up.

I laughed at the switch in his demeanor and followed Ashton into the building. My eyes glimmered and a smile grew on my face as I looked over the chandeliers and walked down the slightly spiraled staircase past a few bottle girls that could very well be models. The all white decor on the top and bottom levels of the building were being splotched with reflections of the blue pink and green lights from the tiled dance floor and the DJ’s station. I was disrupted from my cotton candy dream when Ashton continued to lead me to the bar where a tattooed man in sunglasses stood.

“Ash is that you?” He called out.

“You’re pretty popular around here, huh?” I asked Ashton with a smirk.

“You could say that,” he chuckled and bro-hugged the man at the bar.

“Is this the pretty girl you were texting me about?” The tattooed pointed towards me, causing me to raise my eyebrows.

Ashton turned beet red and the man stepped up to me, “My name’s Mitchy, one of Ashton’s good friends. Unless I’ve got the wrong glasses on, you must be the birthday girl.”

“That’s right,” I said adjusting my sash so the letters were in the right place. “And this one over here is my event guide for the night,” I said nodding towards Ashton.

“Well he brought you to the right place,” he said leading me to a bar stool and going behind the counter. “First two rounds are on me!”

“Mitch, you don’t have to do that man,” Ashton said waving his hands.

“Nonsense! First round is for her birthday, and the second is for yours,” Mitchy continuing to conjure up a suitable beverage to start the night.

My head quickly whipped around to Ashton with my mouth agape, “When is your birthday?!”

“It might also be tonight,” he said nonchalantly with his fingers interlaced in the countertop.

“Seriously?” I questioned.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he shrugged.

I took the plastic tiara off of my head and placed it on his and said, “Guess who’s the birthday princess now?” making Ashton laugh with an accompanying clap.

Mitchy slid two shot glasses towards us layered with various spirits. Ashton reached for one, but Mitchy lightly swatted his hand away and held up a finger as if to say ‘wait for it’ while pulling a lighter out of his pocket. My eyebrows were furrowed until Mitchy sparked a flame and lit the upper layer of our shots aflame.

“Holy shit. What is that?” I said staring at the beverage.

“It’s informally titled flaming liquid cocaine, but tonight it’s your birthday candle,” Mitchy stated proudly.

“In that case,” Ashton began, “make a wish, princess.”

Mitchy counted us off on three and we blew out the flame, quickly picking up the glass to down the liquid. I shook my head as warmth crept through my belly and up my spine. “Oh my god that tasted like Christmas.”

“Lucky for you, not-so Saint Nick has another one of those coming up,” Mitchy said re-sparking his lighter, making Ashton and I whoop in response.


“What do you mean you can’t dance?” Ashton was baffled bringing me onto the dance floor.

“I said what I said! Unless there’s instructions in the song, I can’t dance for shit!” I told him.

Ashton laced our fingers and brought us closer together, slowly beginning to sway us into the tempo of the upbeat song currently playing, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Alright, but don’t say anything when I step in your toes,” I retaliated making his glazed eyes squint while he giggled.

As many times as I stumbled, Ashton kept me on my feet and in a great mood. He wasn’t exactly the world’s best dancer either, so most of our dancing was simply us goofing off with each other and singing the lyrics we knew. Eventually the liquor filtered through his system and he got a lot smoother in his movements. 

It was when Ashton began body rolling that a small circle formed in the dance floor around us with other club goers chanting and cheering his freestyle session on. I giggled when he looked around and realized what was happening before setting his eyes on me. He did a dramatic pause and cracked an imaginary whip, making said cracking sound with his mouth. He then whipped the imaginary rope around me, tightening the knot with both hands and started his gradual pull. When the crowd saw I wasn’t shifting with his faux lasso, a few girls behind me gently pushed me towards him. The crowd got louder as we got closer and the drop in the song was approaching. Ashton “released” his lasso and spun me twice into his arms before creating a picture-perfect moment and dipping me at the bass drop of the song, causing the crowd to cheer and applaud.

We fell into a fit of laughter while the crowd went back to their own dancing. He pulled me upright slowly so I wouldn’t get too dizzy. As our giggles faded, our smiles remained as we recognized how close we were in proximity. The DJ switched the song to a slower, more promiscuous one. Ashton brushed the remaining strands of hair out of my face and my breath hitched when he brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. I took his hands in mine and slid them down to my hips, both of us swaying and grinding softly to the music. I turned around so his front was pressed against my backside like a second skin. He kept his hands lightly roaming on my sides and thighs, rolling his hips against me while I pushed my ass on him as rhythmically as I could. My head lulled to rest on his shoulder, allowing me to feel how quickly his pulse had gotten from our actions. We continued like that, occasionally altering the pace, until the song ended. We faced each other with flushed cheeks, still close in each other’s arms.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He exhaled.


“Oh my god,” I moaned while throwing my head back.

“Fuck, I know,” Ashton groaned equally satisfied.

The McDonald’s cashier behind the counter judgmentally stared at both of us individually going through our second Big Macs.

“It’s even better than the first one!” He shouted with a mouthful.

I gasped and set my burger down to take the bun off and add French fries into it. When I replaced the bun and took a bite, I nearly melted in my seat. “This is the best night ever,” I said taking a sip of my chocolate milkshake.

“I told you!” Ashton victoriously yelled dipping fries into his shake.

And laughed at his boasting and waved away the few other drunks in the restaurant to high five him.

“I’m now your favorite barkeep and newly officiated birthday buddy,” he smiled. “And why do you keep laughing,” he said giggling himself.

“Because you have really deep dimples so your smile is super cute okay! I mean look at you,” I whisper shouted touching his face. “It’s like you’re sculpted to be perfect,” I commented lowly making him blush further.

“It takes perfection to know it,” he attempted to compliment me back, but the moment was stolen by me laughing at the fact that he was trying to bring his straw to his mouth with his tongue and failing miserably.

“Dammit, I’m trying to say you’re beautiful and I’m fucking it up,” he laughed and covered his face.

I removed his hands from his face and kissed his cheek, making his laughter falter.

“Thank you for tonight,” I smiled.

He smiled back and wrapped me into a side hug, “Right back at ya, birthday princess.”

birthday grays?

Alright, so in honor of Tyler Hoechlin’s birthday and my headcanon that Derek’s birthday is the same day, here’s a Derek birthday fic! (also on ao3)

Stiles had originally planned to wake Derek up with a nice, long blow job. But seeing as Derek was nowhere in sight when he woke up, he had to scramble to come up with a new plan.

Rays of pale sunlight were filtering in through the blinds of Derek’s bedroom window, warming the sheets left cold by the early autumn chill and Derek’s premature departure. The sky outside was still dark, only a slender band of pale pink rising over the horizon with the sun.

A smattering of stars still lingered overhead, twinkling in the early morning light like a herald of the dawn. Soon they would be swallowed up by the sunlight but at the moment they were shining as brightly as they would in the pitch black of midnight.

The moon, nearly full, had long since set, disappearing behind the wisps of cloud hanging in the sky. The coo of a mourning dove sounded from outside, a soothing aubade to welcome the rise of the sun.

Stiles raised a hand to block out the bright sunlight as he slowly drifted into consciousness, luxuriously stretching out with a content sigh. A smirk spread over his face as he mentally patted himself on the back for his wonderful plan.

Derek would only turn thirty once and Stiles had every intention of making his boyfriend’s birthday the best he had ever had. Of course, that meant he would wake up his sourwolf with a nice blow job to start the day.

Afterwards, following some cuddling and slow, lingering kisses, Stiles would slip out of bed while Derek continued basking in his afterglow and wander downstairs to the kitchen. There, he would whip up Derek a breakfast feast fit for a king, or rather an alpha, complete with pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and hashbrowns.

Like the wonderful boyfriend he was, he would gather up all the food and carry it upstairs to his handsome half-asleep boyfriend along with a cup of Derek’s favorite silver needle white tea. And, like the romantic sap that he was, he would also bring Derek the bouquet of flowers he had gotten him the night before; a beautiful arrangement of red roses, dahlia, and ranunculus.

Following breakfast, he would draw Derek a warm bath filled with as many bubbles as possible. He had a pack of lightly scented vanilla tealight candles tucked away under the kitchen sink so he could set the mood for Derek’s bath.

While Derek soaked in the tub, Stiles would sit on the edge of the tub and wash his hair. For whatever reason, whether it had to do with Derek being a werewolf or Derek being Derek, the alpha absolutely adored it when Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, sometimes letting out an almost feline purr low in his chest.

He would let Derek linger in the bath tub for as long as he wanted, neither of them having any other obligations to worry about until much later that evening. When Derek finally decided to leave the tub, Stiles would wrap him up in a fluffy towel warm from the dryer and lead him back to bed where they would spend the rest of the day snuggled up together doing whatever Derek wanted whether it was watch one of his nature documentaries or read one of his books or do something a little less innocent.

Both of them were off work, Derek by chance and Stiles because he had requested off so he could celebrate with Derek properly, so they had the whole day to themselves up until eight o’clock. Because at eight, they would be heading over to Stiles’ house for dinner with the pack and a few others who had been honored with invitations.

There they would gorge themselves on a nice homemade meal courtesy of Stiles and Melissa’s joint effort to make enough food to satisfy a pack of ravenous werewolves with the metabolism of hummingbirds. And after dinner, Stiles had a decadent chocolate brownie cake drizzled with a thick chocolate ganache for dessert.

He figured that over cake and glasses of Derek’s favorite red wine, Derek could open his gifts. That would inevitably take a while, mostly because of the pack’s penchant for overindulging where gift giving was concerned.

Hell, just a month ago on his own birthday, Stiles had left his dad’s house an entirely new wardrobe, various little trinkets, movies and CDs, and a wallet full of myriad gift cards. Oddly enough, Peter was the worst offender. He had a strange affinity for showing his affection through weird, though strangely very meaningful, gifts.

After that, Stiles had plans that strayed as far from innocent and family friendly as possible. He had a bowl of fresh strawberries along with some melted chocolate and a tub of whipped cream hidden in the back of the refrigerator at the loft.

He didn’t plan on leaving their bed for days, until they had finished the chocolate and whipped cream he intended to lick off of Derek’s unfairly toned abs, until neither of them could get it up again, werewolf stamina be damned.

He had spent weeks carefully formulating his plan, debating whether or not he should try for something more adventurous like a short road trip or a sex-nic in the preserve or stick to something more domestic. He had asked Boyd and Erica and his dad for their input and wound up with more questions than answers: Boyd had suggested he do something subtly romantic, Erica had frankly urged him to break out some sex toys and try something kinkier than usual, and his dad had simply told him to follow his gut.

So, with the help of the internet and his own extensive knowledge of what Derek enjoyed on his days off, Stiles had carefully constructed his plan. Hell, he had even jotted it all down in one of his notebooks so he wouldn’t forget anything.

All in all, he thought his plan was a rather good one. But it was pretty hard to put it into action when Derek wasn’t in bed.

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Why the Signs love Fall & Cold Weather

Aries: Hair blowing wildly in the wind; walking barefoot across a cold floor; lace-up leather boots, trudging down damp country lanes full of puddles.
Taurus: The smell of cinnamon and baking; rosy cheeks; a warm blanket over your shoulders; late nights binging on netflix.
Gemini: Playing in puddles with bright gumboots; reading a favourite book by candlelight; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies.
Cancer: Oversized jumpers; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; fluffy earmuffs; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose.
Leo: The colour orange everywhere; early morning runs; stylish overcoats; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves.
Virgo: Watching the street through foggy windows in cafés; vanilla-scented candles; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea.
Libra: Hanging fairylights everywhere; flannel shirts; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera; falling asleep to the sound of the rain.
Scorpio: The crunching of leaves underfoot; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; halloween.
Sagittarius: Roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire;  staying up late to play board games; meandering wooded roads.
Capricorn: A warm bath to relax after a long day; thick mittens; the natural silence of the woods; dark lip colours; the right amount of blankets in bed.
Aquarius: Wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; warming your hands on a mug; being a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air.
Pisces: Cute beanies with pom poms; playing with your pet on a warm rug; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones.

9

Star Sign Moodboard: Libra

Libras love quirky hair colours, vanilla scented candles, and lounging around in bed on Sundays.

Anniversary

Originally posted by mvssmedia


Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Type: Smut

Plot: Jimin decides to take your relationship to the next level on your anniversary.

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Moments (2/5) - Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3581

Plot: The first time Peter asked you out

Warnings: angst(ish), a use of the swear word f*ck, FLUFFITY FLUFF FLUFF

Author’s Note: Yeah so this is the second part of Moments and also the monthly song challenge!  I used the song Only Us from the musical Dear Evan Hansen, and of course, this is really really late (again). My apologies! But I hope you enjoy! :)

Part One

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What is the song challenge? // Lilly’s Version

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Hogwarts Houses as Aesthetics

Griffindor:
ripped jeans with fishnet stocking, giggling behind your hand, messy buns, loud parties, running barefoot through grass, comical laughter, beach sunsets, the view from building tops, red and silver glitter, the smell of books, rough hands and soft hearts, beanies, vintage vans, skinny dipping, varsity jackets, letting your hair down, bold lipstick, and brightly colored cocktails
Ravenclaw:
Starry nights, city lights, boxer braids, old novels, the smell of pine needles, indie bands, cassettes, volks wagons, incense, dream catchers, grunge tumblr posts, scrunched eyebrows, color-coded everything, bags under your eyes, waking up on a rainy day, chokers, doodling on your hand, jumping in puddles, charm bracelets, painting your toenails different colors, dark eyelashes, and mirrors
Hufflepuff:
Warm fuzzy sweaters, bonfires, birds sitting on telephone wires, autumn evenings and hot chocolate, bikes with flower baskets, denim overalls, stuffed bears, carnivals, skirts that flow behind you, vinyl records, country breezes,laughing so hard you can’t catch your breath, washi tape, pretty stationary, forts made out of sheets, bohemian tapestries, dancing around your room with friends, fogged up glass, shirts rolled up to the elbows, and tea
Slytherin:
Motorcycle jackets, raising one eyebrow, alternative singers, blck, fog on city streets, dark polaroid pictures, keeping a diary, quotes about anything, vanilla scented candles, edgy nailpolish, waterfalls, silver rings, stone walls, wine corks, standing around the city at night, sly smirks, footprints in fresh snow, french purfume, and photo albums