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gucciwins · 1 year

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a talk show and a surprise

word count: 1827

a/n: okay, don’t know if you’ve seen haley lu richardson being surprised by nick jonas on FaceTime during an interview and it gave me this idea, and it’s something short and sweet i hope you enjoy, mis amores

_____

Talk shows were not your specialty, in your opinion. It felt weird talking to a host and having a live audience told to react at different cues. After appearing in the second season of The White Lotus, there was promo to do as expected. Still, there was a new population of fans following your Instagram tripling your following weeks since the show premiered. Your content was being shared as fans deemed you “real” for posting after-running selfies, photos of you cuddling your parent’s corgi they got after all their children left home. Their favorite was a video of you crying on your living room floor to “fine line” as it played on your record player.

It’s a video that managed to be shared thousands of times. To top it off, your best friend decided to offer them a new treat by posting a video of you at Harry’s Wembley show, happily dancing in the rain. The video ended with you pointing to the stage, screaming that you loved Harry Styles. You were obviously a fan, but your paths never crossed, not that you were surprised you still felt like you were getting your footing on what stardom meant. While Harry literally had the entire world charmed.

Bee assured you it would be fine; a few questions, a few stories, and it would be over. She prepared you for the mention of Harry because hosts loved the views and a good clickbait. It wasn’t your first time and would definitely not be your last. Jimmy Fallon was an angel, and you would be fine.

“Welcome our guest for the night, Y/N Y/LN.”

You walk out dressed in a beautiful black velvet mini dress. It features a lace bib with scalloped trim, diamonte piping, and satin bows. It had a flowing mini-length skirt with romantic blouson sleeves. You loved it from the moment you put it on and knew the crowd would eat it up as well.

Jimmy welcomed you with a hug and gestured for you to take a seat on the couch. “It’s great to have you here, Y/N.”

“Well, thanks for having me.”

Jimmy laughs going on to share about your past works and how you are a well-loved guest on the show.

“White Lotus is just amazing. You’re an absolute stand-out.”

You laugh, trying not to get too flustered as the audience cheers loudly for you. “Thank you. I have had the absolute best time. There’s nothing better than getting to film with Aubrey Plaza and Jennifer Coolidge.”

“While in Italy,” Jimmy adds on.

“The cherry on top.”

Jimmy leans closer, “now tell me, were you even a little bit nervous.”

“Oh, I was a mess. I was sure they cast the wrong person, but Bee, my manager, assured me that they thought I was the perfect fit.” You shared thinking back to when you first heard you got the role.

“Heard Aubrey Plaza got you a gift.”

You laugh, shaking your head as he brings out a photo of you with a signed headshot of Aubrey. “A little birdy told her I was a fan. There was a note that said: Now you don’t have to be nervous around me.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It’s framed in my house.” You share. Not at all lying. “The cast was so welcoming. There was not one bad day. Aubrey really took me under her wing, and yeah, one of my best experiences ever.”

Jimmy holds a hand over his heart, “that’s amazing to hear. It can be seen through the show, so if you haven’t watched it, you can head over to HBO Max and watch the talented Miss Y/N Y/N and the rest of the cast. We’ll be right back.”

After a short break you spent with Jimmy laughing and having your lipstick touched up, the cameras were ready to roll.

“Now, Y/N, I was told you love concerts.”

You nod, “I live and breathe them, Jimmy.”

“Who have you seen recently?”

“Oh too many, my good friend Phoebe Bridgers, Haim, oh Wolf Alice was wonderful recently in Los Angeles. My social media is a surface level of the few I’ve gone to this year. I drag my friends to different shows all the time. They love it. It’s the easiest place to fall undetected. At least I don’t think I’m famous enough to be recognized,” you joke, knowing it’s relatively easy to blend in a crowd when you are not the main star.

“Come on now, all these fans in the audience would say otherwise.”

The chant for you is loud, and you take a moment to take it all in. You’re quick to undermine your talent, but it’s clear that you have an audience that loves you.

“Now, what do you have to say about that?” Jimmy smiles, sensing how the cheers made you tuck into yourself for a moment before you began to blow kisses to the fans, thanking them endlessly.

“It’s surreal. Something I definitely don’t take for granted.”

The interview has been moving on smoothly, Jimmy asking you questions about the show and a few about your childhood. You're thankful he doesn’t have new childhood pictures of you to show. Your mother does that proudly on her Instagram.

“Now, you know we have to talk about this viral video of you.”

“Oh no,” you gasp.

Jimmy and you turn to look at a screen playing the video of you standing in one of Wembley’s boxes, dancing to Harry Styles as he sings to a sold-out stadium. It was a special day because your best friend surprised you with tickets that Bee helped her get. You had been working when tickets went on sale and were heartbroken to hear they were sold out nights. Thankfully, Bee has enough connections that she managed to get you tickets

“That is you at a Harry Styles show.”

You feel your face warm, hoping this interview will never reach him. “Looks like me.”

Jimmy shakes his head, “was that your first time?”

“Nope! It definitely won’t be my last,” you share honestly.

He shakes his head, “I’ve been to my fair share, and boy does he put on a hell of a show.”

“He really does. He’s created such a wonderful environment for many I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

Jimmy grins mischievously, “I have a little surprise for you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “is it a mug with his face on it?”

The audience and Jimmy laugh. You’re too distracted and don’t notice Jimmy’s hand going under his desk until he calls your name. You’re met with a phone, and the shock quickly sets in.

“Hi, love.” A familiar accent you recognize instantly.

You look away from the phone pointed at you, instead bury your face in your hands as the audience's laugh rings loud. Harry’s laugh is the only one that stands out for you.

“That’s–hi,” you manage to breathe out, not believing that Harry was on a facetime call to you. You look around and manage to find Bee on the side. “Is this real?” You ask her, pointing to the phone.

She gives you a big grin and thumbs up. You can’t believe it.

“Are you surprised?” Jimmy questions, clearly knowing the answer.

“A bit,” you express breathlessly.

All the cameras are pointed your way, and you have to face him. Harry’s smiling, and you feel yourself melting in your seat as you can see his dimples clearly. This is not real. Your celebrity crush is not staring at you through what seems like your phone the close you look at it.

“Hi Harry,” you give him a small wave.

“How you doing, love?”

“Good, good. A tad bit embarrassed. Trying to remember how to breathe.”

Harry laughs at your response. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Jimmy cuts in, knowing you’d probably stare at the phone all day, not wanting to hang up on Harry. “Harry has something he wanted to say.”

His green eyes shine bright, and you know he’s enjoying this conversation with you. “I just finished White Lotus.”

“Shut up! You did not!”

Harry nods, “absolutely did. My band and I would get together to watch it every Sunday. Gave us something to relax over during the tour. You were my favorite,” he confesses.

“Me?” You point to yourself. “This is not real.”

“I hope you can come to a show next year. I would love to meet you?”

“I’m there,” you promise him without a second thought.

Harry nods, “good, we’ll be in touch.”

“Can I tell you something before you go?” You look at Jimmy, then back at Harry.

“This is your call, Y/N. Go ahead.” Jimmy grins, urging you on.

“Harry, thank you. I know I can say that you are an absolutely amazing person. Thank you for creating such a welcoming and safe environment at your concerts. It, in some ways, feels like coming home. I mean, you surely didn’t have to do this, but you did, and I’m so thankful. You’ve always shared your kindness with the world from when you were just a teen to now, and it just goes to show how true and honest your character is. Send my love to your Mom. She truly raised a wonderful human being.”

The crowd awes, not having expected such an emotional confession, and neither were you, but you weren’t sure at the next opportunity you would have to tell him. Harry stares at you for a few seconds with flushed cheeks and a timid smile.

“Thank you, Y/N. That is so kind of you to say. I do hope we get to meet soon. I know we’d get on fabulously. All the best to you. Good night, Jimmy. Good night, Y/N.”

Harry hangs up the facetime, and you bring your hands to your face, not believing what just happened. That did not feel real. You hoped, looking back at it, you wouldn’t cringe with embarrassment.

“That happened,” Jimmy jokes.

You reach forward and grasp Jimmy’s hand tightly. “You are my favorite person.”

“After Harry Styles, right?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “Obviously.”

____

After the surprise of a lifetime, you ended the interview and walked to your dressing room, where you tried to process what in the hell happened in the last half hour. Bee walks in with the proudest smile handing you back your phone.

“We’ll head out at twenty.”

You take the time to slip off your heels and rest on the couch, unlocking your phone and seeing you have three new messages. It’s all from a new contact that you know you did not have before today.

Harry S.

It was lovely chatting with you.

Heard you’re going to be in London in a few days, would love to get dinner with you.

This is Harry, by the way.

Yeah, it seemed your life was about to get very interesting.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry story #harry fluff #harry love #harry x reader #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry one shot #pleasing #harry love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic rec

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skullamity · 10 months

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Hey who wants to see pics of my garbage idiot cat children?

Unexpectedly photogenic Parsnip (black long hair) and Ham (grey tabby shorthair with white bib and boots) cuddling at the top of the cat tree where they DEFINITELY both fit, don't question it:

Immediate top ten anime betrayal moment:

Dusty (grey and peach torbie short hair) and Parsnip chilling in a window together even though she find his deaf ass The Most Annoying:

All three of them are goblins, but for completely different reasons and in completely different ways. They're all super cute, though, so everybody should look at them right now!

If anyone has questions about what it's like to live with a young deaf cat (as opposed to an old cat that has gone deaf), feel free to ask and I will be glad to answer, but otherwise I'm not typing up an essay.

Bonus:

an extremely cryptid photo of Parsnip mid-stretch that reminds me of

#cats #catblr #behold my horrible goblins #Parsnip #Ham #Dusty

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chic-a-gigot · 2 months

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Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 7, vol. 16, 18 février 1894, Paris. 1. Deux toilettes de ville, dessin de M. Rocault. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

(1) Toilette en sergé fin amande sèche et surah assorti. — Jupe ronde formant deux pattes à la taille, de chaque côté du devant quille de surah drapée en coquillé terminée sous les pattes et retenue par des boutons de velours. Corsage court froncé à la taille devant et dans le dos, agrafé an milieu du devant, ouvert du haut sur un plastron vagué en surah surmonté d’un col droit; ce plastron s’agrafe sur le côté; manche unie en sergé recouverte jusqu’au coude par un bouffant en surah.

(1) Toilet in fine dry almond twill and matching surah. — Round skirt forming two tabs at the waist, on each side of the front a surah quille draped in coquillé finished under the tabs and held in place by velvet buttons. Short bodice gathered at the waist in front and back, stapled in the middle of the front, open at the top on a wavy surah bib topped with a straight collar; this bib clips on the side; plain twill sleeve covered up to the elbow by a surah bouffant.

Matériaux: 6 mètres de sergé, 4 mètres surah.

—

(2) Toilette en diagonale rouge dahlia et noir, galon mohair noir. — Jupe cloche cerclée de plusieurs rangs de galon mohair, par-dessus jupe drapée ouverte sur les côtés, corsage blouse froncé devant et dans le dos, recouvert par un collet garni comme la jupe, agrafé sur l'épaule, col droit, manche à coude garnie au bas de 4 rangs de galons, ceinture ronde en diagonale lisérée de galon agrafée de côté, chapeau de paille de riz orné satin antique, boucle strass et plumes noires.

(2) Diagonal dahlia red and black ensemble, black mohair braid. — Bell skirt encircled with several rows of mohair braid, over it draped skirt open on the sides, blouse bodice gathered in front and back, covered by a trimmed collar like the skirt, stapled on the shoulder, straight collar, sleeves with elbow trimmed at the bottom with 4 rows of braid, round diagonal belt edged with braid stapled to the side, rice straw hat decorated with antique satin, rhinestone buckle and black feathers.

Matériaux: 4 mètres diagonale rouge, 6 mètres de noire, 15 mètres de galon.

#Le Petit écho de la mode #19th century #1890s #1894 #on this day #February 18 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #cover #cover redo #description #bibliothèque nationale de france #dress #gigot #collar

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skinskisurf · 19 days

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#Cycle #Female cyclist #Bib shorts #Women in bib shorts #Black bib shorts #White bib shorts #Lycrq #Lycra shorts #women in Lycra #Women in Lycra shorts #Black Lycra #White Lycra #Jersey #Women in jerseys #Female

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crackedpumpkin · 5 months

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Trolls.

I have been inspired by TROLLS.

Here is an unsolicited review in shortened important bullet points.

Trollstice was the friend we made along the way.

The king is an immigrant

The trolls are immigrants

The chef is a wannabe zuko (with no redemption arc.)

No kissing allowed in troll town.

Branch x poppy is grumpy x sunshine

Their theme song is black eye by vernon

He fell first, she fell harder

He’s in DENIAL

“Little slappy, make daddy happy?”

They have tresus (troll jesus)

The king gristle is a short king <3

The forest holds unspeakable horrors

The forest is an ally

King gristle is a latino

Fishlegs wants people to call him “his royal awesomeness”

Bridget is bi, she came out

The emergency bib

Branch has RIZZ, poppy is OBLIVIOUS

Branch got that apocalyptic rizz

They can cure depression with singing.

“Depression takes away your glitter”

They shitted in her eyes

Justin timberlake is anti-depression

Justin timberlake is the cure for depression

Justin timberlake = ally???????

#CPRambles #trolls #trolls dreamworks #broppy

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lilac-nites · 7 months

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I made coords with recent purchases. I bought The Black Ribbon's blue apron from LM to wear with Meta's Violet Bouquet skirt. I also bought Meta's Frill Ribbon JSK set in Beige.

The Black Ribbon apron is very cute and made with a great fabric. The apron is a really great piece and it covers the gaping that happens with my other blouses. The bib is removable and there are pockets that can fit my phone. The straps are adjustable with two buttons. I was hoping that it'd give a more classic look to this coord, but it looks very sweet.

I bought the JSK and under the knee socks in Antique White. I love how this looks and it gives the sweet-classic/country vibes that I'm aiming for. I just need a straw hat to wear with it. The Meta set also came with a large headdress that I still need to figure out how to wear.

I still have more purchases planned from Atelier Pierrot and I'm looking for a short-sleeve and long-sleeve ivory and white blouses.

#lilac talks #lolita fashion #sweet lolita #country lolita #lilac coords #excuse the bad lighting and the state of the mirror #and the sock caught in the door (╯▅╰)#black lolita community

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sleebyfrogs · 1 year

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The shirt for my historically accurate Toy Soldier cosplay is done!!!!!

[Image: two photos, both taken in a mirror, of a young, transmasc person in their bedroom, wearing a reconstructed, white Victorian dress shirt. It has a shield-shaped bib area and a tab below the placket, with a detachable rounded collar and cuffs. The front placket and collar have a narrow black edge, and everything is fastened together with pearlescent shirt studs and cuff links. In the first image their face is blurred out, with comically simple eyes and a moustache doodled on top. In the second it is obscured by the body of a mandolin, held by its neck in one hand. Their short, dark hair is visible under an antique black-and-red military cap. End ID.]

(*almost historically accurate, and almost done)

After all this time!!!!! I started in September(?) and it’s now May but a lot of that was just putting off starting the twenty eight hand-done gimped and tailored buttonholes this ended up requiring because I can’t do anything by halves

If you’re wondering, I used this pattern, which worked wonderfully for me (special thanks to this tutorial too for demonstrating some of the more difficult parts), but I spent a long time trying to alter it to fit me, and to fit flatteringly, as I have never made a garment this complex before and I do not have the body an average men’s pattern expects. I had to do a lot of things multiple times over, but I’m really glad I did, because it’s definitely the most effort I’ve ever put into anything like this, and the finest sewing work I’ve ever done. I feel very dapper and handsome.

I did machine-stitch most of it because I knew, knowing me, that I could either end up with an ahistorically-sewn shirt or no shirt at all as I would procrastinate sewing all of that by hand just. Forever. I did hand-stitch a lot of it though, mostly the felled seams and fiddly collar bits. And the buttonholes. God so many buttonholes. The black edge is bias tape that I folded in half and ladder-stitched to itself through the shirt/collar fabric. (Also the horizontal seam you can see near the bottom in the lower picture exists solely because I didn’t have the fabric to cut the front out in one, and that part gets tucked into the pants anyway. Piecing is period.)

I’m still working on combining my various incomplete bits of antique cuff link and stud sets in the least-mismatched way, and the shirt itself is definitely not perfect (and there are still some minor adjustments I want to make), but all this to say I’m delighted with my work and excited to move onto the next item, which will probably be either the trousers or waistcoat, and I intend on documenting those too! I learnt so much from this experience and one day I’ll likely make another shirt much like it.

(Also, I’m happy to answer any questions about it!!! I know I could have used footsteps to follow in when I started this project)

They/them

#The Mechanisms #The Mechs #The Toy Soldier #Cosplay #Victorian #Fashion #Sewing #Historical sewing #Shirt #Dress shirt #19th century menswear #Toy Sewldier #Is my new tag for this project holy shit #Doriginal #One step closer to becoming a full-time dandy #It begins

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lore-gore · 8 months

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Reposting this for Jane Doe week!!!

Name: Jane Doe

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 17

Sexuality: Asexual lesbian

Appearance: She wears a grey knee length high waisted v-necked pleated pinafore over a white Juliette sleeved high necked lace blouse with black ribbon accents on the collar and puffs. She also wears white knee high socks and black Mary Janes. She is thin and tall. She has a small chest. Her skin is pale and dull. She is headless, and wears her dolls head as a replacement. Her heart-shaped face is porcelain white and paler than the rest of her body. Her eyes are big and round and appear completely black, including the sclera. (They are actually just empty sockets.) Her hair is chin length light blonde ringlets with fluffy curved bangs that fall above her eyebrows. It's styled in a way that almost looks like a heart. She wears a thin black headband. She has long black eyelashes (including drawn-on lower lashes) and her thin eyebrows are black as well. She has a button nose and rosebud lips. Her cheeks are pink and her lips are dark pink. Her nails are short. She carries a headless doll dressed in a white floor length high necked lacy dress with puffy sleeves and a square bib collar. She moves like a broken marionette, with head bobbing, mechanical head turning and tilting, side to side walking, barely bending knees, blinks a lot, staring rather than looking, neutral facial expression, occasionally parted lips, mouth moves up and down like a puppet when she talks, dangling stiff arms with fingers that don't bend often, when she walks she sometimes leads with her head. Her voice is echoey, singsongy, and dead. She is cold to the touch.

Personality: She has amnesia due to losing her head, and cannot remember who she was, not even her name or what her face looked like. She is often confused. She is creepy, morbid, and gloomy. Despite this she is quite sweet and kind of silly. She has a melancholy air to her. She has the personality equivalent to a shattered mirror. She is lonely. She has accepted that she is dead and that she will never know who she is as no one else does either. Despite this she has this slight glimmer of hope that one day she will. She does not understand personal space, nor social cues. She is touch starved and seeks warmth like a moth. She is curious and asks a lot of questions. She is book smart and often shares morbid facts. Probably autistic.

Backstory: The one unidentified body of The Cyclone Roller Coaster Disaster. Everyone knew everyone in Uranium, but no one could recall this member of the choir. There were rumors of a girl who joined at the last minute, but as the choir conductor, Father Marcus, died of a heart attack seven hours after the accident, therе was no one left to verify. Somе believe that perhaps she was never in the choir at all. All one knows for certain is that a body was found in a Saint Cassian uniform without a head. So... a mystery.

The most forgettable girl in town.

Facts:

- high pain tolerance

- very light and can be picked up easily

- sleeps with arms over chest like a corpse

- mutual crush on Ocean but is unaware that's what it's called

- likes horror movies

- watches said movies silently without any reaction to the scares

-relates to many of them

- Noel and her are besties as they both like drama

- picks up wild animals/tries to pet them

- puts things in her mouth that's she's not supposed to

- she has the head of a porcelain doll while her body moves like a marionette as she is essentially puppeting her own dead body

- she joined the choir the day of the fall fair

- she was quiet, and after failing to get to know her they just assumed she would come out of her shell when she was ready, and shifted their attention to the fair instead

- because of this, they don't know her name, and can't really remember what her face looked like

@janeya @janedoeweek

#jane doe week #rtc jane doe #jane doe rtc #jane doe ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone jane doe #jane doe #ride the cyclone musical #ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc headcanons #ride the cyclone headcanons #janedoeweek #tw death #tw decapitation #tw body horror #tw implied gore #tw unreality #got the shattered mirror part from bi-shop

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starlitangels · 1 year

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Freeborn

Here’s the other idea I had for Darlin’ plausibly being alive in the Imperium that I mentioned to @dollscircus ;-) 2.5k words (Part 2)

CW: character death canon to Imperium, blood

—

Sam stopped on his walk home from the dentist office front. He sniffed at the air, wrinkling his nose.

Blood. And a lot of it. Not too far away.

He wasn’t surprised. A lot of fights broke out in this area. His office was near the outskirts of the main city. More space between buildings usually meant more skirmishes.

Sam pivoted and followed the scent. If anyone was close to death... well. He could offer them a way out that benefitted him.

The buildings blurred past.

In seconds, Sam was on the scene.

It was carnage. A once-green patch of grass between two parking lots stained red with blood under bright streetlights. Three bodies torn in half. All three of them with vampire fangs on display.

Two living shifters huddled over the body of a dying one. A fourth shifter, Core fading and heartbeat so slow the other shifters probably thought they were already dead, lying a short distance away, naked and covered in deep wounds. Many of them vampire fang punctures.

“David,” one of the living shifters pleaded, holding the dying one in his arms. “David, c’mon. Stay with me. Stay with me, please!”

“Ash...” the dying one choked out, coughing up blood. “Take care of them. I love you.”

Sam heard the moment the man’s heart stopped. Felt his Core disappear.

The two living, uninjured shifters both broke down in sobs.

The fourth shifter was still alive. But only just.

Sam glanced at the other two, clinging to David’s body. They wouldn’t notice.

He ran in, scooped up the broken body of the fourth shifter, and rushed back to the dentist office.

—

I gagged on a clot of air making its way into my lungs, coughing and coming back to consciousness.

“Oh God,” I complained. “Why does Hell have to look like a dentist’s office?”

I heard a chuckle. “You’re not in Hell, darlin’,” a deep, Southern voice remarked. “You’re in Dahlia.”

“Even worse,” I muttered.

I was lying in the patient’s chair, the bright light over me shining down on the fact that I was still absolutely naked—though someone had covered my modesty a bit with those papery bibs and an excess of bandaging.

“Look, you don’t have a lot of time,” that same voice said. A figure moved in the shadows I couldn’t really see due to the light above me. “I was only able to heal you enough to get a few minutes-a consciousness before you bleed out again. You were on Death’s door. Still are, as a matter of fact.”

“So what do you want?” I growled out.

“It’s not what I want, darlin’,” the voice said.

“Stop calling me that,” I snapped.

The man scoffed. “Look, I can let ya bleed out on my chair, or I can give you a deal.”

“What is it?”

Pearly white fangs and silver eyes glinted in the light from the overhead lamp. “You can bleed out, or I can turn you into a vampire. And save your life.”

That was about the moment all the pain came back to me and I remembered what had been happening before I blacked out. I swallowed the tears that wanted to make their way to my eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“My name’s Sam. You?”

“Pack calls me Tank.”

“But it ain’t your name.”

“Only name that matters to me.” I swallowed again. “Are you in the Mass-Maker program?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Let me bleed out,” I said. “I’d rather that than end up enslaved to the Imperium.” I scoffed. “Anymore than I already was, anyway.” I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes so he couldn’t trance me into drinking his blood.

I heard the creak of a chair, like he’d sat. “Well, see here, darlin’, I just turned in a new progeny to the Imperium last week. They won’t be expectin’ another one from me for... at least another week or so.”

“So?”

“So, if I did happen to turn you... it’d be easier’n usual to just... not tell the Imperium.”

“What?”

“You know a man named Ash?”

“Asher. Yeah. My alpha’s mate.”

“He thinks you’re dead. He and the smaller shifter were both huddlin’ over the one they called David, leavin’ your body alone several paces away. There was barely anythin’ left of your Core and your heartbeat was so slow that a shifter in human form wouldn’t be able to hear it. I don’t blame him for thinkin’ you were already gone. Especially if that David was his mate.”

I ignored the tears that pricked my eyes. David was gone, then. And it was my fault. I couldn’t blame Asher and Milo—who had to be “the smaller shifter”—for spending David’s last moments with him, rather than paying me any attention. Especially since his death was my fault.

“What does it matter that my pack thinks I’m dead?” I asked, voice thick with emotion while I tried to hide it.

“No one will notice if I turn you now. Your pack won’t come lookin’ for you either. As far as anyone knows, you’re dead.” He took a deep breath. “Look. At the rate I’m goin’, I’ll make Mass-Maker in about a year. When that happens, you can change your name and we’ll pretend I turned you after I got my title. You’ll be considered freeborn and won’t owe any forced allegiance to the Imperium.”

“Why would you lie to the Imperium rather than help yourself along?”

The chair creaked. I felt warm breath brush over my neck. “Maybe I just want to keep you for myself,” he whispered. A shiver cascaded down my spine. Sam chuckled, running a quick, remarkably gentle finger over the goosebumps that rose on my arms. “Or, maybe there’s still a shred of humanity in me somewhere and I just wanna help you without gettin’ somethin’ outta it myself.”

“That’s a load of crap in this world.”

“Mm. Maybe.” I heard the shrug in his voice. “Choose soon, darlin’. You’re losin’ a lotta blood.”

I ground my teeth, ignoring how bad it hurt. “Swear to me that you won’t turn me in to the Imperium. Swear to me that I won’t be bound to them for twenty years. That you’ll let me be free.”

“I swear. I swear on what’s left of my... unlife. I swear that you’ll be my pretty little secret until I get my title and we can make you legitimately freeborn.”

“And if you’re lying?”

“I’m not. But if I was, then when you reach Mass-Maker and you’re freed from the Imperium’s control, I won’t even fight back when you come to rip my head off. Because at that point I’d deserve it.”

I opened my eyes and met his gaze. “Do it.”

He leaned into the light, raising his wrist—scarred from hundreds of bites to turn progeny—to his elongating fangs. “Drink deep, darlin’. It’ll save your life.”

He bit into his wrist and pushed the punctures against my lips.

I’d tasted blood before. Happened when wolves fought and bit into enemies.

None of it was like this vampire’s. His was almost... sweet.

Which was a bit disconcerting.

He plunged his fangs into my neck and started drinking from me as I drank from him.

My ears started ringing and I could hear my heartbeat pounding in them—

Before everything went white.

—

One Year Later...

—

The door to the house slammed shut downstairs. “Darlin’! I’m home!” Sam called, sounding unusually chipper.

I uncurled from my spot in the bay window of my bedroom and went downstairs. Sam was putting the dentist coat on the coatrack. “What’s got you cheerful?” I asked quietly.

Sam pulled a blood bag out of the pocket of the dentist coat and tossed it to me. I caught it and started untwisting the cap.

“I got my title today,” Sam answered.

My hands stilled. I almost dropped the bag. “Really?”

“Mmhmm. Gimme two weeks, and you can see your family again. Under a different name, o’ course, and they’ll have to swear not to tell anyone that they know you’re alive, but in two weeks, I’ll register your new name with the Department as a freeborn. Some unempowered nobody I found who’d been attacked and bleedin’ out.”

I bounced my eyebrow at the patheticness of that story compared to what I was actually capable of, but it tracked with all the scars I had that even the turning couldn’t heal. And I couldn’t be the scary werewolf I used to be. Not anymore.

The Department’s records of unempowered people were also ridiculously bad, so it was easy to forge records that the new name I’d come up with was someone without magic—someone the Imperium didn’t consider worth keeping track of. Which was ridiculous. Unempowered people were emotionally and mentally stronger than just about anyone I’d ever met. They had to be, to survive in this stupid, messed up world.

But it worked for me.

I finished opening the blood bag and gulped down the contents quickly.

“You’ll have to pretend to be in the bloodlust again, but since you’re already outta it, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

I ignored that comment. “Why two weeks?”

“To make sure all the records are in order. So I’m a verified Mass-Maker. Then there’ll be no questionin’ that you’re freeborn, darlin’.”

“One of these days it’ll actually stick when I tell you to stop calling me that,” I grumbled.

Sam leveled a sarcastic look at me. “Now, now. Is that any way to speak to your maker?”

“Piss off,” I muttered, moving to go back upstairs.

Sam just laughed. He’d always seemed to find it funny when I gave him attitude. Maybe it was because we both knew I couldn’t actually move against him. Any fight we got in, he’d win. Because he was my Maker and he could stop me dead in my tracks if he damn-well pleased.

“Do you really hate it that much?” Sam asked.

Yes, my mind thought. But the word couldn’t leave my throat.

I couldn’t lie to him.

Instead, I just growled and stomped back upstairs.

Sam caught up to me, grabbing my wrist. “Darlin’,” he entreated softly. “If you hate it, I can stop. I just thought it was part of your banter.”

“I don’t hate it,” I said sharply. “I just don’t know how to handle it when someone acts like they care about me.”

“There’s no actin’ here. I’ve gotten to know you this past year. You’re livin’ in my house for God’s sake, I should know you. I do care about you. Wasn’t plannin’ on it back when I found you after that fight, but...” He shrugged. “Somethin’ in you speaks to somethin’ in me. Kindred spirits or whatever. Couldn’t help but care.”

I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the blood.”

With that, I slid out of his grip and dodged into my room.

“Darlin’—” His voice was muffled by the door I’d slammed behind me. I felt him heavily rest his hands against it. “Darlin’, c’mon. Don’t... don’t do this. Open the door. Please?” There was no magic in the words. No invocation. He was just asking. Not ordering.

I pulled the curtains shut against the first rays of dawn painting the underside of the clouds. “Goodnight, Sam,” I said softly.

I heard him sigh. “What is it that makes you so reluctant to be cared about?” he demanded.

“Everyone I care about and who cares about me gets hurt because of me, okay?!” I snapped, nearly tearing the curtain rod down. “Everyone! With no exceptions!” I growled and released my fists from the curtains, storming over and nearly tearing the door off its damn hinges. “I can’t see that happen to you!” I ignored the tears in my eyes threatening to spill over. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone’s been in a long time and you kept your promise to keep me free. I can’t... I can’t fight you. Not just because you could stop me. Because I don’t have the heart to. You give me that sympathetic look and all the violence in me just melts away and I don’t know what to do with that. No one has ever made me feel like that and it freaks me out.”

“Darlin’...”

I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close. He didn’t stop me or resist as I kissed him, hard, for a brief moment before letting him go. “Sorry,” I said. “Consent, blah, blah, blah. But I’ve always been better at asking for forgiveness than permission.”

I moved to shut my bedroom door again.

Sam planted his hand on it, stopping it dead, staring me in the face with lips parted in surprise. I could hear his heartbeat thumping heavily in his chest. I couldn’t help it—I swallowed.

He was about to invoke me. He hadn’t had to yet; even through my bloodlust frenzies. But I felt it in my Core. The Maker-Progeny Bond tying us together was burning hot. He probably couldn’t even feel it with the amount of progeny he was tied to. He was about to tell me to never do that again. Order me to never even touch him. Just because he said he cared about me didn’t mean he wanted—

My shoulders curled forward and I felt like slinking back into my room again.

“Do that again,” he said. Forcefully, but with no invocation behind the words.

“I-I—” I stammered. “You... you want me to?”

Before he could even answer, Sam was kissing me. Holding me close with a desperation I’d never seen on him. His strong fingers flexed against the back of my head. The point of his fangs scraping against my lower lip.

I held him tight. He’d been a vampire for like twelve-to-fifteen years. He was plenty tough enough to withstand my strength. Although, I could feel him being gentle with me. Holding back.

Our breathing grew heavy and ragged even as it synchronized. I shoved the fingers of one hand into his hair, twisting my fingers through it to keep him right here. The bloodbond between us was thrumming. Sam’s other hand was pressed so hard into my skin that I knew—even as a vampire now—I was going to have bruises.

I didn’t care. Sam was kissing me and every other thought and concern slipped away.

When I started getting dizzy, I pulled away. “S-Sam...” I whispered.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that. I just... wasn’t sure if you were ready for it. Or even willin’.”

“I’m willing.” I leaned so we stayed pressed tight together.

“You’d have me?” He looked almost surprised.

“Whatever you’re willing to give.”

“Darlin’, I’m willin’ to give you all-a me.”

“Then I’ll have all of you, Sam.”

He smiled. “Then take it,” he breathed.

I yanked him close, over the threshold into my bedroom, and kicked the door shut.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @mainhoesstuff

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Sam #Redacted Darlin'#Sam Collins #Darlin'#Sam

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