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giffywallsindia · 2 months

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Colourful Wallpaper Patterns for Your Room Wall

Creating a vibrant and inviting space in your home begins with the walls. Colourful wallpaper patterns are a simple yet impactful way to inject personality and warmth into any room. Whether you prefer the boldness of black wallpaper or the softness of pink wallpaper, there's a design out there to suit every taste. This article delves into various wallpaper colours and patterns, including blue, yellow, and white wallpapers, as well as multicolour options. We'll also explore how wall murals and colour wall designs can redefine your space.

Black Wallpaper: A Bold Statement

Black wallpaper offers a dramatic flair, making it an ideal choice for those looking to create a focal point in their room. Paired with the right accessories and lighting, black wallpaper can make other colours pop, providing a dynamic contrast that is both striking and sophisticated. Consider geometric patterns or floral designs in black to add depth and interest to your walls.

Red Wallpaper: Warmth and Energy

Red wallpaper adds warmth and energy to any room, making it a perfect choice for living rooms or dining areas where conversation and interaction are encouraged. From deep, rich hues to brighter tones, red wallpaper can complement a variety of decor styles. Opt for patterns that balance the boldness of red to ensure your space feels comfortable and inviting.

Pink Wallpaper: Soft and Serene

For a softer touch, pink wallpaper is a fantastic option. It lends a serene and calming atmosphere to bedrooms and bathrooms, creating a retreat-like feel. Choose from pastel shades for a subtle look or brighter pinks for a more playful vibe. Floral and abstract patterns in pink can add a feminine touch without overwhelming the space.

Blue Wallpaper: Serenity and Calm

Blue wallpaper is synonymous with serenity and calm, making it an excellent choice for bedrooms and study areas. Light blues can enlarge a space and give it an airy feel, while darker shades create depth and focus. Nautical, stripe, and sky-inspired patterns in blue can transform your room into a peaceful haven.

Yellow Wallpaper: Cheerful and Inviting

Yellow wallpaper brings cheerfulness and light into any room. Its ability to reflect light can make small spaces appear larger and more welcoming. Whether you opt for a soft buttery hue or a vibrant lemon shade, yellow wallpaper works well in kitchens, bathrooms, and children's rooms. Pair it with simple furniture and decor to let the wallpaper truly shine.

White Wallpaper: Clean and Versatile

White wallpaper is the epitome of versatility, offering a clean and crisp backdrop that allows other elements of your decor to stand out. It's particularly effective in rooms that receive a lot of natural light, enhancing the brightness and sense of space. Textured white wallpapers can add interest and sophistication to your walls without overpowering your room's aesthetic.

Multicolour Wallpaper: A Splash of Joy

For those who can't settle on one colour, multicolour wallpaper offers a joyful blend of hues. It's a fantastic way to incorporate multiple colours into your decor without having to choose just one. Floral, abstract, and geometric patterns in multicolour can act as art pieces, adding vibrancy and interest to any room.

Wall Murals and Colour Wall Design

Wall murals are an excellent way to introduce colour and design into your space. They can depict scenic landscapes, abstract art, or even personalized designs that reflect your interests and passions. Colour wall design, on the other hand, involves using blocks of colour or patterns to create a unique feature wall. Both techniques offer a creative way to personalize your space and make it truly your own.

Conclusion

Choosing the right colourful wallpaper pattern for your room wall can completely redefine your space. Whether you're drawn to the boldness of black or the tranquillity of blue, there's a wallpaper design out there to match your style. By incorporating wall murals and colour wall designs, you can further personalize your space, making it a reflection of your personality and taste. Remember, the best decor choice is one that makes you feel happy and comfortable in your home.

#colour wallpaper #colourfu wallpaper #wallpaper for walls

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kaashni-co-in · 1 year

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Colors and patterns for modern living room interiors

Introduction

The living room is the heart of any home, where family and friends gather to relax, entertain, and spend quality time together. The color scheme and patterns used in a modern living room can greatly impact the overall look and feel of the space. In this blog, we will explore some of the most popular colors and patterns for modern living room interiors, with a focus on creating a stylish and inviting atmosphere.

Color Scheme

The color scheme is one of the most important elements to consider when designing a modern living room. The right colors can create a sense of calm, comfort, and style, while also reflecting the personality and tastes of the homeowner. Here are some popular colors for modern living room interiors:

Neutral Colors

Neutral colors, such as white, beige, and gray, are popular choices for modern living rooms because they create a sense of calm and simplicity. These colors also provide a versatile backdrop for other design elements, such as furniture and accessories.

Bold Colors

Bold colors, such as red, orange, and navy, are great for adding a pop of color to a modern living room. These colors create a sense of energy and excitement, and can be used to highlight specific design elements in the space.

Pastel Colors

Pastel colors, such as mint green, pale pink, and light blue, are popular choices for creating a soft and romantic atmosphere in a modern living room. These colors are often used in combination with other design elements, such as soft textures and natural materials.

Patterns

Patterns can also greatly impact the look and feel of a modern living room. Whether you prefer bold and graphic patterns or subtle and understated designs, there are plenty of options to choose from. Here are some popular patterns for modern living room interiors:

Geometric Patterns

Geometric patterns, such as stripes, chevrons, and triangles, are popular choices for creating a modern and sophisticated look in the living room. These patterns can be used on everything from curtains and rugs to throw pillows and wall art.

Floral Patterns

Floral patterns, such as roses, peonies, and daisies, are popular choices for creating a romantic and feminine atmosphere in the living room. These patterns can be used on everything from wallpaper and upholstery to bedding and curtains.

Abstract Patterns

Abstract patterns, such as splatters, dots, and swirls, are great for creating a playful and artistic atmosphere in the living room. These patterns can be used on everything from rugs and throw pillows to wall art and curtains.

Design Elements

In addition to color schemes and patterns, there are several other design elements that can greatly impact the overall look and feel of a modern living room. Here are some key design elements to consider:

Lighting

Lighting is an important element in creating a modern living room. Natural light is always best, but in the absence of natural light, consider using ambient lighting, such as lamps, sconces, and overhead lighting, to create a warm and inviting atmosphere.

Furniture

Furniture is also an important design element in the living room. Consider using furniture that is both comfortable and stylish, with a focus on materials such as leather, linen, and velvet. Modular sofas and armchairs are also a popular choice for modern living rooms.

Accessories

Finally, accessories can be used to tie the overall design together. Consider using decorative pillows, throws, vases, and artwork to add a personal touch to the space. Also, consider using plants and flowers to add a natural element to the living room.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the colors and patterns used in a modern living room can greatly impact the overall look and feel of the space. Whether you prefer neutral colors or bold patterns, there are plenty of options to choose

#slidingwardrobe #homedecor #interiordesign #furniture #modernfurniture #homedesign #wardrobedesign #closetdesign #bedroomdesign #smallspaces #spaceoptimization #SekkeiSlidingDoors #KaashniHardware #architecture #Indaux #Partiglass #Kaashni

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recallingrealities · 4 years

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Aligned, Chapter 2 (Zelda Spellman x Reader)

For Chapter 1, click (here)

Chapter 2: Selene

Zelda Spellman x reader

(momentary inferred NSFW)

You typically had no issue feeling grounded. Masterfully artful in your practice of quieting the mind, you found serenity. In this moment, you found yourself entranced by a surge of new energies. There was so much unseen and old resonance among the Academy’s grounds. It excites you to be surrounded by so much beautiful unknown. It was a dream. As if your stomach was full of dragonflies; buzzing and ricocheting against one another within your chest. You had decided you would take up Ambrose on that tour, but you kept it very professional, not wanting the young man to get the wrong idea and waste away the evening. Your room had already been prepared in the sense it was ready for you to retire to it. Your boxes awaited you on your desk. However, you felt secure they could wait until after you’d explored the grounds to organize their contents properly.

After a lovely dinner with a small collection of faculty, you deemed it time to return to your things. You have come to the decision that one part you enjoyed particularly with homemaking, was the opportunity to reinfuse your space and belongings with fresh energy. There was a power in everything having a place, and so, you decided to collate each book in accordance to its author. If they were nameless, you placed them accordingly before A, by title. Was it necessary for you to acknowledge each book with so much intricacy and care? Likely not. A spell could do the trick, and the packing would take significantly less time. Alas, you found yourself tied to the intimacy of tracing each cover, and honor the care it took to bind it. After placing the last text and observing your work, you took time to arrange your candles particularly.

You were becoming overly aware of how many of these tasks you could have completed with magic. Down to the smallest action, like striking the match and taking care to tend to each flame. It was the intention, you affirmed. The collection of small, intense energies, that had been a piece of your personal growth. You discovered this in meditation. Yes, any witch could use magic to accomplish the same task in quicker time, but even with the small amount of items you had placed in the room, you undoubtedly felt the fresh surge of energy; bustling and reverberating in your new space. It was indulgent, and relaxing. Even if you had only unpacked a little, there would still be plenty of time tomorrow.

Though you had decided to move in darkness, it wasn’t unlike witches to hold strange sleep schedules. The thought had crossed your mind several times that it was destined; your intuition that willed your wakefulness. The Goddess herself had intricately weaved and planned for your exact placement of each item, at its precise moment in time. Perhaps it was the intensity of your faith. But even if it had not been her will entirely, it was her trueness to her own divine femininity, her own divine self that aligned the wills of those who followed her in Serendipity. Your trueness and dedication to what the Goddess had taught you over time, has you feeling as if you are glowing. You are honored enough to witness and note her teachings around you, and it is then you feel how much you’ve grown.

You felt a warm hum of humility pass over you, such wholesome and fully embodied realizations were so satiating to you that you couldn’t help but swell with gratitude. It was that energy that fed back into the space around you; you detected. It charged your spirit and drifted to your candles so they held tall, steady flames.

You realized that you had no idea what time it was, the moonlight pouring through the space between your rich velvet drapes. It could be late that evening still, or early the next morning and you would be none the wiser - completely content with being guided through the unknown of your intuition.

After a beat of harmonious silence there was a sharp knock at the door. Not necessarily loud, but distinguished enough to send a wave of energy towards you, breaking the silence you were swimming in. It was then, the sight hit you hard. Your fingers gripped the side of the desk, catching yourself as your legs buckled. All under a startling vision of the High Priestess, which was now filling up your entire consciousness.

She gave you a fiendish grin, running her tongue across her teeth before dragging her manicured nails down your inner thigh. Her left hand was gripping you with a bruising force, your thighs trembled beneath her touch. The graze arose in stinging red lines, hot and aggravated with prickling pleasure. She smirked before her lips moved towards the hem of your skirt, her hot breath just below your rear before the second knock rang through your chamber, breaking the vision.

You clear your throat and turn to face the door, leaning against your desk in a quick attempt to ease your composure.You realized now that the back of your thighs were in fact trembling. You had... felt her somehow. The sight was enrapturing, but this electrified you.

“Do come in”

Your words chime in sync to the Directrix’s entering. The way she commanded the energy of the room to fall on her was impeccable. You were empathic, no doubt. Intuition was a part of the sight, but her energy was as clear to you as a demand you might have received from the Goddess. A level of intensity to this day, you haven’t grown used to.

“I came to check on the status of your new office - it has been some time since its last resident lived here.”

She touched the wallpaper observantly, her firm powerful voice, directed towards you. She turned and gently shut the door with the back of her right heel..

“Does everything appear to be in order?”

“Yes, High Priestess”

You said clear and softly. You knew your appearance remained cool and collected, but you were finding it difficult to find your words with the sudden heat that was knotting in your throat.

“I see you’ve begun moving into your office. How charming.”

Her words articulated quickly and carefully. To be honest you could hardly keep up. You couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, but you preferred to sense it as genuineness. At this point you were focused on solely regrounding yourself.

“And your living quarters, is it to your pleasure?”

At that you attempt to soften a hard gulp, as the word pleasure escaped her lips. ‘Holy fuck’ you think to herself. You realized the insanity of these few moments. Just a beat ago, you were fine, and even now appeared so - and yet, you feel as though you can’t get that… premonition? out of your mind. It was making it insatiably hard for you to focus. You had never had a vision take you like this before. Though they were sudden, yes, you had learned to try and ignore them, just long enough so not to impose your will on the situation. Though you knew your relaxed shoulders and calm breath disguised it, you knew you were distracted. Wondering how and when does that happen? You hardly even knew her-.

It was then you realized you had not replied.

“If I am being honest with you Ms. Spellman-”

You pause, standing from the edge of your desk, walking towards the bookshelf that held the classic “hidden room” behind it. You rested a hand on the aged, ashen wood before giving her a breathy smile.

“I hadn’t even thought to look. I am sure it’s marvelous.”

You felt your cheeks warm slightly.

Zelda held a cigarette fashioned to her holder, and leaned over to light in on the candle next to her. A smile subtly showed on her lips as she held the cigarette to it.

“Thank you. For checking up on me. It is… incredibly hospitable of you to check in on someone you barely know. Tell me… what time is it? If I am being quite frank with you, I have lost complete awareness of the time”

You let out a slight chuckle, one you felt escape from you residually. Between the dim floating lights of your candles and the moon’s gaping rays, it was beautiful in here. Of course, you were content, between getting lost in the ambience, and now, the beauty standing by your doorway. You did however, feel it would be best, contextually to know when Ms. Spellman decided to check in on you. You cock your head to the side, allowing yourself to smile, your teeth grazing the side of your cheek.

“Please, sit down. You have no reason to loom at the door.”

Your feel as though you’ve finally relaxed, now swimming in this mysterious energy that was your new Priestess. As she breathed twirls of smoke, the room smelled of Mahogany, Tobacco, and warm cinnamon. It intrigued the Spellman the way warmth seemed to radiate off you now. It had seemed she wasn’t the only one with keenness for consideration.

“Well, tell me this. Do you think yourself a wolf, or a hungered cat?”

Zelda moved to sit on the arm of the leather chair. The question seemed nontraditional at the very least.

“I suppose a cat; but I’ve always felt drawn to the moon. What do felines have to do with mornings?”

You smile. You are enjoying watching her statured composure relax as the hours weaned. She was still the same composed woman as before, but it was as if you saw her muscles relax around her neck and shoulders among the warm glow of candles. The blanket of serene moonlight was bouncing off her skin, you could almost see her heartbeat pulsing in her neck. Were you staring at her and had she noticed?

“A hungered cat knows when to find the early bird”

Her eyes met yours, as she pulled another long breath. The crackling embers reflected in her softened gaze. She was so intense… but so were you, and she noted the reflection of your eyes, only a steps distance from her. She didn’t feel as though you were reading her memories this time. Only that they were beautiful.

You couldn’t help but grin yourself, moving to tuck a displaced lock behind your ear, shaking your head before returning your eyes to her.

“To answer your question” she purred “It's early. Before the birds but I suppose at a perfect hour to admire the moon as well”.

You felt your breath waver as you watched her lips relax into a smile. You had never seen her smile before. And though this moment came without warning, or formality, it was simple… and utterly romantic. You took a moment to exist in the quietness, only hearing the gentle wind and the waving maple apexed below your window.

You allowed your mind to wonder if the Goddess had planned this timing so beautifully. Or perhaps Lillith knew you would set the mood yourself, a fan of letting your candelabras burn low almost every evening.

Zelda couldn’t help but let her eyes drift across your silhouette as you gazed out the window. Your head was turned away just so, to let the moon drape your figure and fair skin. She couldn’t tell if it was the moonlight, or your aura that entranced her. A faint hue of indigo drifted from you in her mind's eye. She wasn’t fantastic with reading aura, one of her less polished skills, but it had seemed to radiate off of you, almost obvious. She had noticed it earlier when you had first stepped foot in her office.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes before she flicked the cigarette into the wastebin beside her. The quiet tssst, drew your eyes drift peacefully back to her.

“I should allow you to make up your room - I am extinguishing any chance of you getting sleep before the sun rises. Though I must say, I am grateful-”

She restored her posture, and voice to that of a more astute regality.

“to have enjoyed a moment of peace with you. I feel as though enjoying peace and quiet can be a rarity in this day and age, let alone quiet with accompaniment.”

Though she didn’t say it, you knew she had felt in those minutes, she had gotten to know you better, and you her. The brashness of your vision had faded from your mind for that moment, and you felt grateful to have witnessed a glimpse of what you think had been her unaltered self.

“It is said in silence one learns more about the world than in a lifetime of study”

You stand gently, ambling past her to open the door in courtesy. It was now you realized, you felt honored to have seen her like this, to have spent more than a moment, bewildered in her presence.

“I see now how meditation has been so enriching for you now”

She sighed gently and drifted towards the threshold, before pausing. She was only inches away from you.

“Goodnight Y/N”

#Zelda Spellman x Reader #CAOS fanfiction #Zelda Spellman #Zelda Spellman Fanfiction #CAOS #the chilling adventures of sabrina #chilling adventures of sabrina #self insert #reader insert #miranda otto #Aligned fic #mine

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 5 years

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All is Fair

Oh, Dear God. I’ve had an idea for a fic. Tommy is bored with his OBE, MP life. In an attempt to cheer him up, Ada invites him to a fundraising soiree she has organized, and Tommy becomes horny intrigued by a bright young thing.

“I’ve lined up Picassos, Muchas, a couple of Lalique glass figures — lots of up and coming artists.” Ada paced back and forth before Tommy, counting on her fingers the artists whose work would be shown at the charity auction she’d helped to organize for the Grace Shelby Institute. “I snapped them up for a song, but with the crowd I’ve invited all trying to outdo one another they will bring in thousands…” Ada stopped mid-step and stared at her brother. He had insisted on meeting her before the start of business, and after summoning her at such an ungodly hour he didn’t seem to be listening to a single word she said.

“Tommy. Oi, Tommy! Are you listening to me?”

Tommy had been listening. He absorbed every word spoken in his presence, even while he seemed a million miles away. Smoke from a dwindling cigarette curled in a graceful column before his eyes. He was mentally weighing how much money the auction would bring against the amount in his charity reserve account. Of course, he could singlehandedly fund the Institute with the stroke of a pen and skip this whole event, but that wasn’t the point. Publicity was important, and Ada had arranged for all the right people to be seen at his party. That was the point. He knew the rules of the game, but it weighed heavily on him. He was bored with pretending to care about the issues and opinions of the upper-middle class. He craved the gritty realism of Small Heath; the honest observations of the working class meant more to him than the relentless droning of his new peers.

“Yep, Ada, got it,” he sighed as he stood up from his desk and pulled on his jacket. He crossed the room to where she stood and lit another cigarette, seemingly forgetting the one he left burning in the ashtray on his desk. “It should be a resounding success. Thank you for all of your hard work.”

In the clear light of day, Ada could see the strain of the last few years playing out on her brother’s face. His pale blue eyes used to snap with electricity, but now they were slower, deeper, and more contemplative. Not quite sad, but worn and weary. “I know it’s hard for you to go to these things, Tommy, but I’ve invited some bright young people who will make it a bit more bearable. Who knows? You might have fun,” she shrugged and smiled hopefully.

The energy that it took to keep up the façade of a legitimate businessman and Member of Parliament had sapped every ounce of fun from his life. “That wouldn’t be fair, now would it?” he mumbled as he stepped out into the hall and out the door.

***

“Lia, wake up!”

Sunlight streamed in through the window, painting the backs of Lia’s eyelids pink and warming her face. She had stayed up late talking with her cousin the night before, catching up on family gossip and getting the lowdown on her new job.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled and pulled the sheet over her face. Her mind lazily drifted to thoughts of the upcoming day. She was to train as an assistant librarian; a position made possible by her cousin’s connections at City Hall. Even though she was grateful for the job, the temptation of a few more minutes’ sleep was tough to resist.

“Now! It takes a while to get across town. I stuck my neck out to get you this job, and I won’t have you being late on your first day.”

The rapidly approaching clacking of high heels on hardwood let Lia know that her cousin Jenny meant business, so she threw back the covers and groaned. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“You’d better be,” Jenny called. “I’ve got fresh scones and tea.”

Jenny’s two up two down in Small Heath, Birmingham was like all the others in her street, except where the other houses were filled to capacity with large families, hers was all but empty. Her mom and dad had moved back to the country, and her brothers were off with their own families, so in order to stave off loneliness, she wrote to invite her favorite cousin to come live with her in Birmingham. “It will be great fun, and there’s a position coming open at the library. They promised to hold it for you. After receiving the letter, Lia and her family decided that the change would do her good. The country was stifling Lia. If she stayed, she had no prospects for anything other than marriage to a local farmer and a brood of children. Birmingham meant freedom and adventure for the restless young woman, so she went.

The pale yellow frock Lia wore stood in sharp contrast to the sooty dark patterned wallpaper in the kitchen. At one time it must’ve been green with pink flowers, Lia mused as she sipped her tea which was the approximate color of the flowers on the wall.

Jenny laid a plate of scones down on the table and eyed her cousin. “You’ll need to get darker dresses, Lia. The mud and soot of Small Heath will make a hash of that.”

Lia rolled her eyes and smiled, “I plan on doing just that with my first paycheck. In the meantime, maybe I should help myself to your closet.”

“Not with those knockers you won’t,” Jenny teased. It felt good to have her cousin in the house, and despite the early hour, they were both in the mood to laugh.

Jenny sipped at her tea and flipped through the morning post until one envelope, in particular, caught her attention. Her lips moved as she whispered under her breath, and her eyes read and reread the writing on the heavily embossed card.

“What’s that?”

“My boss has forwarded an invitation to me. It’s for an art auction at the Grace Shelby Institute.” Jenny’s eyes were wide. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I’ve been invited!”

“That’s great! Wait, do you have to go with your boss?”

“No, it’s my own invitation, and I get to bring a guest.”

The name Shelby rang a bell with Lia. Jenny read the look on her face and lowered her voice as if Arthur Shelby himself were lurking just outside her door. “Yeah, those Shelbys. But they’ve gone legit. The leader is even an MP now.”

Lia arched an eyebrow, “Legit? How exactly does a razor gang go legit?”

“The Shelbys can bloody well do whatever they want, and we are going to this event. It means a lot to get invited to these things, and I need to show that I can fit in.”

***

The pale blue dress that Lia wore had a low cut back and fringe at the knee, not at all the stuff of a librarian’s wardrobe. She had worn it to a formal engagement party the year before and had been pining away for a reason to wear it again. In a room full of tweeds and sensible shoes, she was a flash of blue sky on a stormy day. Her cousin dressed to blend in with the crowd—perfect for a work event, and Jenny was certainly all business tonight.

While Jenny circulated around the room, Lia availed herself of several glasses of champagne and studied the paintings on offer. As the daughter of a farmer, she had not had many chances to go to museums and galleries, but she loved art and soaked up everything she could read about it. There was an amazing selection of work at the Institute including a cubist piece by Picasso, but what really caught her eye was a group of Art Nouveau paintings by Alphonse Mucha. She stood, sipping her champagne and smiling at a depiction of a woman in a gracefully flowing gown on a backdrop of stars.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” A sweet feminine voice with a Brummie lilt drew her out of her reverie. Lia turned around to see a woman with porcelain skin, dark bobbed hair, and piercing blue eyes extend a hand toward her.

“Ada Thorne, and you are…”

“Lia Montrose,” she managed to answer in a relatively confident manner. Jenny had mentioned the Shelby’s sister on the way there, but Lia never thought she’d end up in a conversation with her.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You know, at most of these things people only glance at the paintings and then try to make business deals for the rest of the night. It’s nice to see someone actually appreciate the art for a change.”

She held up a perfectly manicured finger in the direction of a waiter who immediately brought over a tray of drinks. “Champagne?” She handed Lia a fresh glass without waiting for an answer and then took one for herself. She smiled conspiratorially and raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen the Max Ernst yet?”

“You have an Ernst?” Lia asked, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she realized and closed it.

“Yeah, it’s in the next room. Come on.” She hooked her arm in Lia’s and led her to the next room where, indeed, the promised painting hung.

“It’s bloody amazing,” Lia whispered.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m sure you could have it for a song. None of the tossers here will recognize its significance.” Ada gently shook her head, and the rubies around her neck caught the light. Lia blushed and looked down. She had not near enough to even make a starting bid on any of the artwork. Ada led Lia around talking about the various works up for auction. She was genuine and warm. Not at all what Lia imagined a Shelby would be like. When Lia explained that she couldn’t actually buy any of the art because she had just started a job as a librarian, Ada commiserated with her about the low pay.

“I was a librarian myself for a time. If it weren’t for my brother Tommy… well, let’s just say I know what it’s like to live on a librarian’s pay...and much, much less”

Ada didn’t expand on her role at Shelby Company Limited, except to say she dealt in imports and exports, and Lia didn’t pry. Even though Ada spoke with a candid ebullience, it seemed safer not to ask questions. As they were discussing the merits of public reading rooms a man entered by a side door and motioned for Ada to come over. “Oh, dear. If you’ll excuse me, I should go to make sure that everything is running smoothly. It was so nice meeting, you Lia.”

“Likewise Mrs. Thorne.”

“Call me Ada,” she warmly smiled and was on her way.

Lia was positively buzzing. She had lost track of time and of how much champagne she had quaffed while talking to Ada. She squinted across the hall into the main room and scanned the crowd for Jenny, who was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to her, someone had been watching in admiration as she strolled along.

Another Picasso caught her eye, and she stood squinting and biting her bottom lip as she looked at it. She was so astonished by the colors and lines that she hardly noticed the gentleman who had come to stand beside her and ask her what she thought of it.

“Vastly overrated. I much prefer his blue period...”

As she spoke, she turned to find herself under the gaze of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He took her in with an intensity that was slightly lessened when he raised one corner of his mouth and tilted his head a bit. His voice was a low, raspy rumble and Lia felt it in her gut when he tutted and spoke again.

“If our Ada were here, she’d tell you all about how it represents the chaos of war and the destruction wrought by the powerful…how mechanization renders people obsolete…turns us into interchangeable parts.”

Lia stared at him as her mind lurched toward the realization that maybe she shouldn’t have been so candid. Our Ada? “Are you…”

He turned his whole body to face her. “Thomas Shelby. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs…”

As he kissed her hand her breath caught in her throat. She was toe to toe with the most powerful man in Birmingham, and his warm soft lips were currently on her skin. Tommy did not fail to notice the little shiver of electricity that passed between them.

“Miss… Miss Lia Montrose, and the pleasure is all mine.” The heat from his lips on her hand made its way up to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and swirled the champagne in her glass. “Great party.”

“Party, event, fundraiser, no matter what you call it it’s all about separating this lot from their money. Since my Picasso is shite, tell me, which ones do you like?” There was a hint of mischief in his voice as he spoke.

Tommy liked that there was something different about her. She was younger than the usual patrons of local charities, but the difference seemed to do more with the light in her eyes as she surveyed the room. Bright. The word Ada had used to describe their special guests sprang to his mind. She was one of those bright young things who Ada invited to try to make him have fun. There was a distinct lack of pretense in the way she carried herself. She had spent the evening looking at and chatting about art instead of business, and her honest reaction to his question did not surprise him in the least.

Lia giggled a little and apologized. “I didn’t mean to insult your taste in art, Mr. Shelby…”

“Call me Tommy.” He lazily caressed her body with his eyes.

“…I didn’t know who you were when you asked me.” Lia’s voice quivered, betraying her surprise at the bold way he was looking at her. After all, he was Tommy Shelby, and she was taken aback by the open way in which he was flirting with her.

He took a step closer and raised his eyebrows. “Had you known, would it have changed your answer?”

Lia bit her lip and fought back a smile before answering, “Well, no, but I would have used a bit more tact.” She looked up through her lashes at him.

Tommy held her gaze and waited for her to answer what he had asked previously. She seemed a bit dazed, so he repeated the question. “Which ones do you like?”

She glanced around the room, gathering her thoughts and began, “I really like the Mucha paintings. They are much more organic in how they reflect the beauty found in nature and…” As she trailed off, she realized that Mr. Shelby was still looking directly at her. His unwavering attention coupled with the champagne made it very hard for her to concentrate.

Tommy could see that she was having some difficulty in expressing herself, and he was having quite a lot of fun teasing her. He narrowed his eyes and ran his tongue along his lips. “What makes you think the Picasso is shite?” he asked in an exaggeratingly sincere voice.

She drained her champagne. Liquid courage could only help her current situation. “Personal preference, I suppose. It’s ridiculous,” She leaned closer to him in a conspiratorial manner. “It’s overwrought and pretentious.”

As soon as the words left her mouth Jenny came into view. Her eyes were huge as she gingerly approached Lia and Mr. Shelby.

“Oh, Jenny, let me introduce you to Tommy. We’ve been discussing his art collection.”

Tommy offered a warm greeting to Jenny, who hid her surprise as best she could. “Mr. Shelby, thank you for extending an invitation to my cousin and me.”

“My pleasure. The fine work you’re doing for our city has not gone unnoticed, and I’m happy to show my appreciation. Do you have opinions on art, Miss Montrose? Your cousin is partial to Mucha.”

Lia giggled and smiled up at Tommy, “Well, yeah, of course, I prefer him to Picasso.”

Jenny’s eyes shifted from Lia to Tommy and back again, as she could hardly believe what she was seeing. There was an obvious attraction between them. Lia was fresh from the country and had no way of knowing the gravity of the situation she’d stumbled into. But Jenny did.

She took the empty champagne glass from her cousin’s hand and placed it on a passing tray, “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mr. Shelby, but we must be going.”

Lia frowned, and Tommy’s demeanor cooled as he turned to face Jenny. “Won’t you stay for the auction?”

“We would love to, but…” Jenny’s excuse was mercifully cut short by an announcement that the auction was beginning.

Tommy shifted his attention back to Lia and slowly shook his head, “It’s a shame, you know. I could use your expertise to run up the bids.”

Lia looked over her shoulder as she walked toward the door and smiled sweetly, “That wouldn’t be fair, now would it, Mr. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby x oc

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keishiko · 5 years

Text

Rewrite

It’s never too late to change your mind.

[Oneshot <3,000 words | Rated: Explicit (but only for a short bit) | Angst/Romance (Natasha x Steve) | Spoilers: “Endgame”]

. A chill wind howled across barren rock as he haltingly climbed the last few steps. He shivered in the cold. No, he corrected himself. His suit was designed to insulate him comfortably even from subzero temperatures. This cold seeped from emptiness, bit to the bone, clawed inside his skull.

He glanced around but there was no sign of life or movement. Perhaps, with the loss of the Stone, its red-skulled guardian had gone as well.

Recognition squeezed the breath out of him as he turned his gaze to the two craggy spires and the desolate ledge beyond. Shuddering, he willed himself to approach the edge of the cliff, one heavy step at a time. His mind seemed to be planets away when he noted a blackened, blasted hollow where one of Hawkeye’s arrows must have detonated. After what seemed an eternity, he reached the edge and, with another supreme effort, looked down.

A long, long way down to where the horrific drop ended in nothing but blank, gray stone.

He forced himself to keep looking, keep his eyes open against the rushing wind. Where was she? He had begged Clint to describe her to him. Clint hadn’t wanted to. But he had alternately yelled and pleaded and the two men had nearly come to blows until Clint broke down and told him what would ever after haunt his dreams.

Steve peered down, down, down into the wasteland chasm, searching in vain for a broken black-suited figure at the very bottom, porcelain skin white like death, fiery hair streaming like blood.

He deserved to be haunted, he told himself. It was the least he could do for her memory, if he never slept again.

It was only when the wind blew icy across his face that he felt the tears searing down his cheeks.

He’d almost forgotten what he’d come for. He fumbled for the tiny, slippery thing that thrummed in his hand, blazed against the black of his glove. For a moment he stood at the cliff’s edge, suddenly irresolute.

Then he flung it into the void.

He stared as it bounced off the rock—once, twice, three times—and then sent up a blinding ochre glow that suddenly flooded his vision...

“Lost something, soldier?”

He would know that voice anywhere.

He whipped around, heart in his throat, hope making him light-headed. She stood in front of him, smiling, looking for all the world like she had just made another peanut butter sandwich at the compound. He staggered forward, frantic with gladness and relief.

“Nat!”

He stopped short. He could not get closer. She remained just out of reach, smiling at him sadly.

He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He found himself tearing up again. “We won.”

Her gaze serene, she was as beautiful as ever in the golden haze. “What did it cost?”

His response tore out of him in a sob. “Everything.”

The glow dimmed. He reached for her again, but already her smile was twisting into a snarl and then she was Red Skull, blazing with fury, lunging toward him. The glow abruptly faded and Steve felt himself slip on the icy rock as it crumbled beneath his feet and then he was falling, falling, falling—

“Steve!”

He opened his eyes with a gasp. His throat felt raw. He found Peggy’s brown eyes on him, still dull from sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped after a moment. He was still trying to catch his breath.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Peggy pressed a kiss to his cheek—wet with tears, he realized—and lay back down beside him, draping her arm comfortingly across his chest. He sighed, burying his nose in her dark curls.

His return of the Soul Stone had been much less eventful. No, he hadn’t seen Natasha’s body anywhere. He had tossed the Stone into the abyss. It had disappeared.

And then nothing had happened.

After a few minutes of waiting—hoping, praying, wishing—he had reopened his eyes to find nothing changed. He was alone on the cliff. The wind still whistled around him.

As he started to descend the stone stairway he saw, out the corner of his eye, a dark figure materialize on the ledge behind him, a hostile energy begin to burn. But he heard nothing, felt nothing. He reached the bottom of the stairway unmolested.

When he had returned the last Stone to the Ancient One he had hesitated.

She had then asked him if, perhaps, as a small gesture for saving the world, there was anything she could do for him.

Now he settled back in the too-soft bed, stared up at floral wallpaper and shadow-flecked ceiling, and told himself to go to sleep. His hand tightened on Peggy’s elbow; he breathed deeply of the smell of her hair. All he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever dreamed of, all he’d hardly dared to dream of, for years and years.

The future—cozy and quiet and peaceful—stretched before them.

“How you’ve changed,” Peggy mused, as if to herself.

He started guiltily. He’d thought she’d fallen asleep. “How’s that, Peg?”

She chuckled, patting his arm. “Nothing important. Sweet dreams, Captain Rogers.”

He waited, but she said nothing more. When she was in a mood like this, it would not be shaken. Soon, despite his unease, he found himself nodding off to her quiet breathing and the susurrus of the wind in the tree outside their window.

A small echo of her voice drifted to him from what seemed like very far away through an impossibly misty fog, as he tipped over the cliff’s edge into slumber.

“She must have been somebody very special.”

It was a much harder landing this time around.

From streaks of gold and chrome light the world outside his helmet flashed into blurry darkness as he tumbled end over end on what felt like a hard stone floor, slammed into some kind of wall, and crumpled in a daze. Gasping for breath, he deactivated his helmet. As he struggled to reorient himself he became dimly aware of several indistinct faces gathering around him in the gloom, curious, staring.

Then came a panicked shout from somewhere he couldn’t see, in a guttural, familiar language—

A dark shape flew through the air, crashed into the wall above him. He twisted just in time not to be crushed by what turned out to be an inert human male.

Before he could react, another limp body toppled onto him. He had barely worked his head free to breathe when another body tumbled onto him, then another, and another. Chaos had erupted inside the half-lit chamber as his senses finally regained focus. Harsh shouts of command or warning, gunshots, shrieks of pain; the crunch of bone, the pop of joints. The thrum and crackle of blue-bright electricity. A faint smell of burned flesh drifted in the dank air. Horrified, Steve struggled to get up under the growing pile of not just bodies, but debris: a fallen filing cabinet, a broken metal crane, a huge, splintered desk. But the quantum leap had weakened him and he found himself straining futilely under the weight.

He realized dimly the noise had ceased. A last scream choked off with a sickening snap of sinew.

He wondered if he should call out.

Then he felt above him the weight being shifted, shoved off of him, pushed aside. He tensed, willing energy and strength to return to his muscles as he waited to be discovered. It hadn’t sounded like there were very many people carrying out the attack; only two or three at most, stealthy, practiced, sure. If they weren’t enhanced, maybe he could still get out alive. He bided his time, sensing the last few bodies being laboriously hefted from on top of him. This person was not as strong as he was.

There was a soft, feminine grunt as the last weight was rolled off him.

He stared up at green eyes, green eyes he’d know anywhere, green eyes he’d missed like his heart and soul had been ripped out of him, green eyes he’d longed to see again even lying in bed next to the love of his life in the long, quiet nights of suburbia.

Green eyes mirroring his own shock.

“Steve?!”

He was dreaming. He pinched himself. She laughed at him. While crying. Still a dream.

He was afraid to call her by name. Maybe he’d wake up.

Before he could say or do anything she had shushed him, ushered him through a corridor, a cabinet, an air vent; a tunnel, a catacomb, a sewer. A manhole. A side street. A blind alley. She propped him up against a brick wall, panting from the exertion.

Sunlight, fresh air. It reminded him, ironically, of his and Peggy’s neighborhood. He blinked at her, still dazed. Still hoping against hope. “Nat.” It came out a plea, not a question, not a statement.

She pulled off her cowl. Dark hair tumbled down her back. But the smile was the same.

“Steve,” she breathed, and she kissed him.

He crushed her to him, and when they ran out of breath they broke the kiss and just held each other laughing, tears streaming down their faces.

“What happened with Thanos?” she whispered.

“We won,” he told her. He would explain later.

They picked up supplies, with mute exchanged glances slipping with long-practiced ease into old covers of boyfriend and girlfriend. This was convenient, too, as Steve found himself unable to stop touching her, keeping hold of her—lightly, fearfully, as though she might disappear if he clung too hard. He grasped her arm, held her hand, entwined his fingers with hers. At first she stopped and looked at him searchingly, but there was no time for questions, and she squeezed his hand back.

As night fell she led him to her safehouse, the basement of a run-down apartment building in a decrepit area of town. She shut and secured the front door behind them and he dropped down onto the bare concrete floor, leaning up against the wall, suddenly exhausted. She smiled at him fondly, already on her way to the refrigerator.

“Let’s get some food into you.”

She had always been a competent cook—she tended to succeed at everything she tried, he reminded himself—and soon the tempting smell of soup roused him from weariness. As he came to her little dining table he found himself looking over her small but cozily furnished space and almost laughed aloud at the sense of relief that abruptly washed over him: Her bed had only a single pillow. There was only one mug (chipped). There was only one photograph, set up on a cluttered bookshelf, showing her with a dog.

“What’s so funny?” She was smiling at him, he realized belatedly. He must still be so damn transparent to her.

He tried his best to lie anyway. “I didn’t know you liked dogs.”

She turned back to the refrigerator with a smirk. Humoring him. “Belongs to a friend of mine.”

Soon he was savoring a steaming bowl of hearty soup with excellent brown bread. Almost as hungrily he devoured her with his gaze as she sat down at the table next to him with her own meal.

She flushed under his scrutiny as she talked quickly but gently, oriented him in time and space as if she were merely debriefing another agent. Steve almost laughed at the thought, then found himself blinking back new tears. The familiarity felt good, as good as nothing had felt in years.

She had woken up, she said, in an abandoned facility in Belarus, twenty-one days after that fateful snap of Thanos’s fingers. Knowing the timeline had been compromised, she had kept a low profile in the years since. Establishing a discreet new identity had been easy enough, but she had soon found herself falling into old habits, picking up on intel despite herself, and now ran what self-imposed missions she could to uproot or expose clandestine new terrorist or paramilitary organizations.

“What you arrived in this afternoon, practically by sheer accident, was the underground lab of a Neo-Hydra cell based outside Nuremberg.” She ladled a second helping of soup into his empty bowl even without his asking and he couldn’t help smiling to himself. “Some months ago Pym and Van Dyne’s research was stolen, so I’ve been monitoring this group and a few others in case something would turn up.” Her grin turned teary-eyed. “I didn’t expect that you would.”

He shook his head. “Our turn in the quantum realm won’t happen for another few years yet. I’m no physicist but I’m guessing those bastards did something right.”

She laughed, even as a tear ran down her cheek. “Too bad I killed them before I could thank them.”

He chuckled back. “Maybe next time.” Without thinking, he reached out to wipe her tear away.

She stilled under his touch, lowering her eyes to the table. “Steve...”

“Natasha.” He luxuriated in her name. He hadn’t said it out loud in a very long time. She hesitated, then clasped his hand in both of hers, cradling it against her cheek for a moment.

“What happened, Steve?” Her eyes on him were urgent, her tone deliberate.

She needed him to be honest with her, he knew.

“I missed you,” he said simply.

He’d always been honest. But he had never been so forthcoming. Steve, in his old age, was done waiting.

They made love tentatively in the shower, exploring each other tenderly, retracing old paths, discovering new ones. They had slept together in the past a few times, sought comfort, sought relief. They’d been careful to keep up boundaries, respect the limits of their friendship. But this time Steve was focused, devoted. He could sense Nat’s surprise—her surprise and her heightened pleasure—and cursed himself for never having really paid attention before, never actually noticing how earnestly she met his every move, how her face glowed with passion when she looked into his eyes.

They nearly fell out of her single-sized bed more than once, each time melting into smothered laughter; with teeth and tongue she plotted the delicate shift of muscle and vein down his neck until he could stand it no longer and pulled her down for a growling kiss. He remembered to deadly effect how she wanted his mouth between her legs and she came helplessly, sobbing, holding on to the headstand for dear life, because it had only ever really been him.

Maybe it was the super serum, maybe it was too much energy after what felt like a lifetime of lonely duty. Heck, maybe it was the soup. But he found himself lying awake under her softly snoring form, not restless, just thoughtful. He watched as the approaching day splashed ever-lightening blues and purples on the wall across from her only window.

For the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to the sunrise.

fin

[The Russos want multiple timelines?? Let’s give ‘em multiple timelines!! (I actually can’t bring myself to watch “Endgame” a third time, just for the heartache...💔)]

#fix-it fic #oneshot #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #captain america #black widow #steve x natasha #avengers endgame #romanogers #steve x nat

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heyitsgigisadventures · 3 months

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The Ultimate Light Feminine Bundle To Change Your Life

The Ultimate Light Feminine Bundle To Change Your Life A guide, a printable workbook and a style guide: here’s everything included in this Ultimate Light Feminine bundle! You’ll learn everything you’d possibly want to know about this lifestyle, and approach your glow up with a more practical mind thanks to the printable workbook. Hey, pretty people! The Light Feminine isn’t exactly a new…

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queenbeez-blog · 4 years

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ghost neon

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unmanageable-day · 5 years

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When words are not needed

Genre: fluff, romance

Starring: Son Hyunwoo (Shownu of MonstaX) x OC

Hyunwoo couldn't believe that love-at-first-sight thing actually happened to him. It was all started when he was attending a birthday party threw by Soyu, his senior at the office. Hyunwoo never really liked being in a crowd. Night club was never his first choice to hang out or spend the night in. Being in a crowded and noisy place simply exhausted him and drained his energy in a snap.

That particular night he was dragged along to attend Soyu's birthday party at a night club in Hongdae. Fortunately Soyu made a VIP reservation so the guests were not more than 200 people. Enough for Hyunwoo to breathe and secure his personal space.

After greeting the birthday girl, he chose to sit at the bar, having a drink by himself while watching his buddies on the dance floor. His eyes kept scanning the whole place and when he landed his sight to where Soyu seated, his eyes caught this girl dressed in black blouse, peach pastel skirt, and black high heels. She looked so neat, probably she went to the club after work.

He'd never seen her before. At least not in his office area. And not realizing it, Hyunwoo had been monitoring this girl for a while that Bora caught him off guard.

"I didn't know you like that type of girl."

Hyunwoo flinched in surprise, not knowing Bora was already sitting next to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Wait here. I'll tell Soyu." Then she walked away stomping her feet with mischievous smile, ignoring Hyunwoo who shouted at her in panic.

The expected thing was about to happen before his eyes. Hyunwoo became restless and uneasy as Soyu came approaching him. Walking along beside Soyu was the girl he'd been secretly looking at. His eyes were unfocused when the girls were just a few more steps away.

"Hey, what are you doing here all alone?" asked Soyu.

Hyunwoo gave a look at her. He knew she wouldn't ask bullshit for nothing.

"What?" Soyu blinked her eyes innocently. "Anyway, Hyunwoo, meet my friend. Her name is Sehee."

This Sehee girl flashed a smile. Hyunwoo smiled back at her, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. He was getting more nervous from the chic and elegant aura from this girl. He noticed her hair was a messy bun when greeting Soyu. But now she let her hair free hanging loose. The bun left a natural wavy hair and it successfully made him hard not to look at her.

"And this guy is Son Hyunwoo. My feeling says that you two are going to get along really well." Soyu turned her head to face Hyunwoo. She winked at him, expressing 'no need to thank me' face. "Okay, so, Sehee, talk to him for me, okay? It makes me sad to see this giant Pooh bear alone. I have more guests to greet so I'll leave you, is that okay?"

Sehee nodded. And with that, Soyu left.

"Hyunwoo, right? I'm Go Sehee. Nice to meet you." She reached a hand.

Hyunwoo shook her hand. "Yes. Pleasure to meet you, Sehee."

The first thing he noticed was her height. She looked taller from distance. Now that she stood up before him, her eye level was only up to his neck. Without her heels, probably her sight would go straight to his chest.

He beamed a daddy smile and his eyes disappeared forming eye smile. He already liked the atmosphere although they hadn't talked more after introducing each other.

That daddy smile caught her attention that instant. The smile was kind of soothing. She wouldn't mind seeing it for a long time. And she did. "You resemble my father somehow," she muttered, smiling warmly.

Hyunwoo got that a lot. He was that kind of person who always had this daddy smile and also father-ish personality. "Well, my bandmates call me father sometimes," he responded, chuckling.

Sehee let out a chuckle too. "Of course. I'm sure they do."

There was a long pause between them. Looking like enjoying the silence, none of them moved an inch from the bar. They were just doing the same thing: scanning the whole place. Until their eyes met, smiling to each other.

The music slowly got louder as the dance floor now was getting packed. Sehee looked at her wristwatch to see it was almost midnight.

"Anyway, is there any chance that we could meet again?"

"Hm?" Sehee gestured that she didn't catch what Hyunwoo just said due to the loud music.

Hyunwoo scratched his head, looking embarrassed that he had to repeat what he said. "Well, I don't usually ask this the first time I meet someone," he mumbled.

Sehee flashed a smile in confusion, waiting for him finishing his words.

When finally the music paused before changing to the next song, Hyunwoo gathered his courage. "Are you free next Saturday?" he asked, smiling shyly.

It had been three months since their first meeting and everything was going steady without any official confession thingy. Soyu was right. Hyunwoo and Sehee were getting along very well because they had similar personality. Mainly it was them being quiet while shooting sharp gaze. Not many words came out from their mouth. When they were like that, they actually looked cool and chic. Although they didn't really talk, they actually found the silence between them comfortable.

"Hey, I finished earlier than I thought," Sehee talked over the phone. She took off her hair tie and ran her fingers through her long hair before made it into a messy bun. "Should I wait at the theater or?"

"I'm still at the academy. How about coming over?"

What Hyunwoo liked the most was the little movement or words Sehee made, showing that she cared. Just like him. He simply couldn't believe the female version of Son Hyunwoo actually existed.

Sehee arrived at a dance academy for children where Hyunwoo teaches dancing. Sometimes he practiced there too because it took more time to go back to the office.

Hyunwoo was in the middle of practicing when she came into the practice room. There were only Hyunwoo and Wonho.

"Sehee, you're here," Hyunwoo exclaimed as he caught her reflection on the mirror. He sounded like a robot but there was a certain bit of happiness. His light steps brought him towards Sehee who was standing by the door.

Meanwhile Wonho couldn't stop grinning, ready to tease his hyung. "So, this is why you often go out by yourself."

Hyunwoo remained silence and tried to stay cool, yet his ears were all red due to blushing as Sehee took the towel off his hand to wipe the dripping sweat all over his face and neck.

"Sehee, meet Wonho," Hyunwoo said, not realizing his hand already landed on Sehee's waist in a slightly possessive way. Probably he was aware of how pretty Wonho was.

After that simple introduction, Wonho excused himself to go home, leaving Hyunwoo and Sehee alone.

"Shall we go? To the theater?"

Sehee turned her head to look at him. He looked tired after a full day of non stop dancing, yet she knew he was pretending he was full of energy. A comforting smile was curved on her lips.

"Don't you want to take a shower first? My apartment is only two blocks away."

Hyunwoo couldn't say no as he secretly desperately needed a shower to wash the fatigue away. "May I?" he unnecesarily asked, showing his bunny smile. His heart was racing just thinking about visiting her house. On top of that, he was happier that Sehee could tell what he needed without even talking about it.

A mix of vanilla and strawberry scent welcomed Hyunwoo as Sehee opened her door. The room overall was not as big as his, but he found it very cozy. Pastel colors dominated the whole room, starting from the wallpaper, the curtains, and the furnitures. Sehee caught him exposing his fatherly smile again, which confused her a little what he was smiling at.

"I'll be in my room, I've got something to prepare for tomorrow," told Sehee. "The bathroom is that way."

He nodded.

He only took five minutes in the bathroom until he came out to find Sehee was still in her room. He was expecting she would be ready to go out again. When he tried to approach her room, he could hear her talking over the phone in formal language. Pouting his lips, he dragged his feet towards the living room. As soon as he landed his body on the sofa, a yawn slipped out of his mouth. That expected lazy feeling when you got home and had a bath finally came.

"Sorry, Hyunwoo.. ah," She hung her words when her eyes caught a teddy bear sitting on her sofa, sleeping while hugging a pillow. A smile instantly grew on her lips. She decided to come back to her room to finish her work as soon as possible, letting Hyunwoo have some good sleep for a few minutes.

Later on, Hyunwoo finally woke up to the coffee aroma. Rubbing his eyes, he was half awake trying to summon his souls and identify where he was. He was about to call his roommate, Minhyuk, but then he realized he wasn't at his home.

"Oh, you're awake?"

The familiar feminine voice got him a grip. How he fell asleep was not a new thing, especially after taking shower. He took a look at his watch, genuinely surprised by the time read on his watch. It was almost midnight. It seemed quite impossible to catch a movie. A few minutes that Sehee planned turned out to be two hours. It was all because she liked watching him sleeping and she didn't want to wake him up.

Hyunwoo got up heading to the kitchen where Sehee was busy preparing snacks. "Hey.."

"Had a good sleep?"

A shy smile was slowly formed as Hyunwoo rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "About the movie..."

Sehee gave him a reassuring smile. Bringing one big bowl of caramel popcorn and one pack of taco chips, she walked off first towards the sofa in her living room, followed by Hyunwoo.

A pile of DVDs on the table caught his attention. Hyunwoo turned his head towards Sehee, who already had four DVDs in her hands.

"So, Hachiko, The Martian, Miracle in Cell No.7, or Glory Days?" she asked cheerfully.

Hyunwoo was flustered. They were supposed to watch a new released movie that starred Do Kyungsoo. He knew how Sehee had been waiting for that movie since she was a big fan of Do Kyungsoo. If only he didn't fall asleep.

"Sorry, I..."

"No. I'm sorry." Sehee reached a hand to hold Hyunwoo's hand. "I shouldn't have left you to do my work. Sorry."

He, having no idea, somehow felt touched by her words. His hand held hers back. His eyes disappeared forming two lines as he grinned wide.

"So, The Martian?"

"Yeah, sure." Hyunwoo shrugged, smiling.

Sehee went to the kitchen again to grab their coffee, while Hyunwoo arranged the sofa into a sofa bed as Sehee requested. She took a seat next to him, leaning her body on to his. And they were this close that Hyunwoo could feel his heart racing. He didn't expect Sehee to be this close, and from how she seated, she looked very comfortable.

Their first ever physical contact, which was holding hands, was only one week ago. It was Sehee who finally made a move since Hyunwoo was too shy to grab her hand. After that he kept gathering his courage to be bold to finally be able placing his arm around her shoulder or waist in confidence. These days he preferred to hold her mostly on the waist. He felt somehow secure that way.

"Didn't you say you've been to a jungle that looks like Mars?" Sehee chuckled as she recalled his jungle experience.

Hyunwoo replied her with a chuckle too. "Yeah, it was amazing there."

Suddenly his eyes got wider as Sehee put her hand on his stomach, and repositioned her head leaning against his shoulder. He tucked one arm behind his head and cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn't notice how nervous he was.

To his surprise, Sehee stretched up her neck to take glance at him. She flashed a loving smile as she hugged him by his waist.

Hyunwoo couldn't help but smiled back at her. This was a moment he wished to last, because he just liked it so much. No words needed between them as they seemed to understand each other by looking at each other's eyes.

Hi hello, there! I have posted this fic to AFF under the username joyful_joy titled ‘Meet Son Hyunwoo’ but I thought it was a boring title so I changed it here lol

#kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #monsta x #shownu #son hyunwoo #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenario #monsta x fluff #kpop fluff #fluffy #post by yourblinkies

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carrieautumn-blog1 · 7 years

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Lilly Cobb

This was a request for Waldorkler, a short story involving their OC. Thanks for the request!

https://lilly-cobb.tumblr.com/

Lilly Cobb

The vapors of a dream drifted up from the dying embers of a violet cigar; the various aristocratic faces caught in the curling tails of smoke began to fade as the young Lilly Cobb stirred. She had fallen asleep in the parlor, lying face first on an antique settee, patterned in wilting silk flowers. Her cigar holder rested precariously between two thin fingers, threatening to catch the rug on fire. She couldn’t decide if the mansion set ablaze would be an awful way to go or not, there was something appealing with the idea of the Cobb Estate pershing in a glorious blaze with it’s last remaining occupant. Yet, she thought again that perhaps it should remain standing as the largest mausoleum in history, a hollow symbol that stood for the loss of an entire lineage.

The Cobb family had been cursed. The entire bloodline had slowly began to vanish, as one by one each member had perished, until the sole remaining member was the young Lilly Cobb. Lilly was not a lonely girl, for whatever reason, the spirits of her late family still roamed the estate. It was not quite the same as when they had been alive, the large estate that had been filled with the constant bustle of life was quieter now, but even so she was never in want for company.

Lilly stretched and pulled the twirls and tangles from her long lavender hair, retrieving her lacy head wear that had fallen to floor. She collected herself, lit another cigar, and began to explore the mansion to see if she could find any of her family and discover what they might be up to. With no purpose in her mind, she eventually came to the nursery. It was made up of two large, adjoining rooms. One was the play area and the other filled with bassinets and small beds. She admired the room that had once held her and many small cousins for generations. She noticed some toys were strewn about the floor and one of the rocking chairs was slowly coming to a stop. Oddly enough, the room was empty. Emptier than a home filled with wandering spirits could be, that is. It was strange, but she moved on chasing the phantom smell of something cooking downstairs.

China lined the entire length of the long dining table. The other banquet tables had been brought out and were also set up, as if to reenact a family gathering. As of late this display was something normally that was reserved only for the rare guests, that occasionally wandered into the mansion. The faint smell of food she had followed downstairs was gone and the dishes remained as vacant as the chairs set before them. Interesting.

The members of Lilly’s families all spent the afterlife in their own way. Some liked to try to rekindle the pleasures or habits they had had when they were alive, with varying levels of success. It was difficult to imbibe earthly pleasures when one was essentially hollow, after all. Others had not taken as well to their new state, despite being in the warm presence of family. They wallowed in their sorrow or madness and displayed uncouth or even violent tendencies. Yet, Lilly only had a smile waiting for them, because what else could she do. Today it seemed she’d find no one in the dining room or kitchen areas so she moved on again.

Before she could return upstairs she saw a flash of light and made a new discovery of her old home. The flickering light illuminated an invisible space between the wall. She ran her fingers over the floral wallpaper until she felt air hit her finger tips. She gave the wall a gentle push, something clicked and the door came open. A gleeful surge came over her as she entered the narrow passage. It was completely dark except for a glowing ball at her feet. It must have rolled down the path and created the light she had seen, the crystal orb bumping on the uneven floorboards. She picked it up and found it was very cold, it’s innards swirling with a pretty white smoke. She used it to light her way down the hall that had more turns than she was anticipating. Lilly followed on, barely able to make out some old portraits of family members she had never seen before. Other odd trinkets like clocks or a compasses were also encased in shadow boxes on the wall, defeating their purpose.

Eventually she came to a room and saw a glowing claw on the table that must hold the orb she carried. She placed it into the hand and the room lit up with star light. Tiny lights began to twinkle throughout the room, a candelabra and sconces on the wall ignited with soft flames until the room was bright with flickering pastel shades of blue, green, lavender, pink and orange-red flames. Now she could see all that awaited her in the room.

Books lined shelves that encircled the room in all the languages of the world, and some that were a world apart. Small herbs and mushrooms grew in a garden that thrived in darkness. Rocks with strange symbols and crystals of all kinds were sorted into slots and glass vials. Cabinets were filled with jars and objects that were labeled with numbers and letters. There was more too, in chests and in alcoves, hanging from the wall and ceilings. All of it, the entire room carried a smell she had never known until now, but she knew it surely, Magic.

Uncertain of how much life she had left to claim Lilly was ecstatic at the prospect of this new hobby. What girl wouldn’t want to study the wonders and potential esoteric horrors of magic? It was determined instantly in Lilly Cobb’s mind that she would become a witch. That task would be proven easier said than done, shortly.

The first part was organizing, she had to sort the piles of notes and books into an order she could use. First were the books that were written in languages she could understand, and those were sorted into what contents she could even begin to comprehend. This severely narrowed down the resources she could use, but that was helpful in it’s own way. Finally she settled down into trying to decode the notes and books, taking notes of her own. Trying to break the frustrating shorthand took hours, and Lilly found herself tired before even beginning to reach the lower branches understanding. She closed her books and rubbed her eyes. She went off to find food or rest, whichever came to her first, carefully closing the passage behind her, in case any relatives had any ideas about disorganizing her notes. As she began to make her way upstairs once again, she heard a voice.

“Lilly,” It called to her in a high feminine voice she did not recognize. She approached the hand calling from a darkened corridor at the end of a hall. “This should help you.” The voice told her, handing over a blue book with silver moon embossed on it’s moleskin surface. Lilly looked up from the book to say thank you, but the darkness had vanished and so had the pale reaching hand. It must have been a relative she hadn’t met she reasoned, and thought that they might have had something to do with the crystal ball that lead her to the secret room in the first place. After all it was unlikely that ball had rolled off the table and through all those twists and turns on its own.

The next time Lilly entered the room she had the blue book, and when she opened it things began to click. It was written as guide for someone without understanding, and contained an index of simple enchantments and spells. Lilly found the idea of a new wardrobe appealing, specifically for when she was here in the Witches’ Lair. It was as good a starting point as any.

Following the instructions carefully, reading them three or four times, Lilly took spider’s silk from a vial and placed it on old spinning wheel. Chanting a few clumsy words while touching it’s surface, it began to work on it’s own and would make the process far easier. When it gave her piles and piles of gossamer thread, far more than she should have been able to yield. She placed the soft, silky pile carefully on a dressforms’, headless, neck and began to envision what it was she wanted. But first she would need a wand.

She took her cigar holder, and dipped it into a smoking poultice she had made from strange herbs with strange symbols in their names. Then she held it over a flame until the whole of it turned burning orange, yet it never warped or turned to ash. She whispered a few words, and a small puff of visible air came from her lips wrapped around the holder and began to spark. She took it between her fingers, held it up to the mass of thread, ready to test that she had done everything correctly.

She said the words that needed saying, and the thread began to work it’s way down the form like water. She played with the layers, moving her wand like a conductor, shifting the shape this way and that. Finally, with sweat fresh on her brow she was finished. She took the outfit from the dress form and slipped it on, it had an icy burn from the fresh magic still crawling over it’s stitching. Lilly stood before the mirror and admired herself, a proper conical hat with a wide brim and a dress that lightly sparkled, maintaining the webbed pattern from the spider’s silk, with flowing sleeves. The outfit was of course purple, and brought out the stunning shade of her features.

Tired, but overjoyed in her success, Lilly retired her spellcraft for today. Cleaning up her newfound workspace, she felt eager to to begin conquering her next feat. One a little more difficult, not to mention dangerous. She could already picture it, sailing over the estate, casting a shadow over the moonlit graves.

A few weeks had past, but Lilly was finally ready. With a flick of her wand her cannon began to glow and spark. She had tried to enchant this thing a few times before, and each time at this stage it always went wrong. The last attempt had nearly destroyed the cannon. This time she knew she had it, without breaking connection, she lifted her arms up and then brought them down commanding a cascade of energy onto the cannon. She caught her breath, looking at the cannon, before grinning. This was it.

Lilly Cobb adjusted her cannon skyward before sliding her legs in. She angled herself over the rim while pointing her cigar holder-wand back at the fuse. With a single word the fuse ignited, and so too did the young girl’s heart. She settled into the cannon and looked up at the sparkling sky. She closed her eyes, took a serene breath and felt the blast begin at her feet. The boom of thunder, the crack of lightning, and Lilly flew across the horizon. Up and up the magic carried her until the heat of the had blast faded away. Lilly kept her eyes on the stars, the world leagues behind her, and smiled again. Soon she would be among the cosmos. A dying smoke trail and a faint twinkle beside the moon would be all that was left behind.

#request #short story #short fiction #witch #witchcraft #lilly cobb #oc #waldorkler #cobb manor #ghost #haunted #cannon #writing

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atelierfresh · 5 years

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THE POTTINGER HOTEL | A Tasteful Escape to Colonialism with Breakfast at Gradini Ristorante E Bar Italiano

MODERN CLASS. When my girl, Ketty Shan, told me she was finally visiting the city again, I knew we had to do it right! Stop, Pause, Break & Rewind! We are so glad we made it to The Pottinger Hotel to get the best out of Hong Kong, in all its richness, classiness and history! If I were to call time to stop again, it’d be here!

Pottinger Greetings

Tucked in the bustling vibes of Central, this hotel is the best to get the full immersion of Colonial Hong Kong during your short stay. With the historic Pottinger Street (Stone Slabs Street) running alongside it, and expats and white collars scurrying around its Neo-classic entrance, this was the perfect place for Ketty, who was coming back to the city for only a 2 day stay to sort out her errands.

We were so lucky to be welcomed by beautiful sunshine during the weekend and formally greeted by the very generous Hotel Manager, Gina Tam, as well as all the smiling staff. The lobby was brightly lit with soft tones of neutrals, and antique gold inlays of Art Deco lines and marbles finishings contrasted with the stone slabs outside.

Lobby with lavished with classic furnishing for casual sitting and enjoyment of the animated streets behind. With the large glazing and beautiful weather, I would have loved to enjoy the space as a perfect sunroom with a book, if it wasn’t situated in such a public realm of the hotel.

Ketty is one of my favourite girls, with so much life! We worked together back in 10Design, one of those fancy funky architectural design firms in Hong Kong. Leaving the city a year ago to work in Kuala Lumpur, she’s much more super free spirited than I am.

Breakfast was waiting! With light layering of make up, and a toss of hair, my girl is ready for breakfast. She’s got the French in her that I can only adore and admire but never possess. Lots to learn, lots to learn Janet. The only culture I have, is maple syrup.

The Gradini Ristorante

If there was one thing I loved the most about this hotel was its casual luxury - the Gradini Ristorante was a perfect emblem of this perfection. In soft pastel greens and pale neutrals, the decor of the restaurant took me out of the concrete city and back into our colonial days, our richer and cultured times. Beautiful animated wallpapers, with birds perched on peaceful white branches, were captured in white detailed wooden frames. These frames manifested itself in its glass panes and high ceiling details. Very detailed yet passive artistry of work. A beautiful feminine collison of European and Oriental aesthetics.

We got the perfect seat in the far left corner, looking out over the trees I never notice existed in the glassy Central. The breakfast was a choice between the Continental or the Pottinger Breakfast set, both inclusive of a sumptuous salad bar with fresh fruits and yoghurt and oats. Ketty obviously needed her croissants and I needed my sausages and eggs. I could never say no to meat.

The morning was quiet here and I could spend hours here savouring the moment and refreshments while watching people below. Around us were other hotel guests, mainly European or American couples who rushed off into their day soon after the meal. I had no plans to rush anywhere, and Ketty only had to meet her banker before noon. We definitely spent out time nicely, pigging out and laughing ourselves to tears. Mainly laughing at how obsessive we were at taking the right photos of our breakfast, but also a lot of catching up on life. It’s been almost six months seeing this girl, and I am so proud of where she is in life! We’ve both really come so far, it was definitely great to come share it with each other!

The Peaceful Staycation

Our Deluxe Room was perfect as well, embracing all that the city could give. The soft curve glass at the corner window was highly animated, with the reflections of the glass skyscrapers around us, the moving traffic below, and soft diffused sunlight that stayed through the day. With Chinese-inspired decor and wall finishings, the soft room interiors gave me the comfort and peace to return to my zen. Studio Anetta was the interior designer for this hotel. Home away from home. A bubble to jump into to stare out into the city - to be a spectator amidst the noise. This holiday treat came to me at perfect timing!

I assure you, these beds looked much better when we first entered the room! This is the best attempt of remaking the bed setup after they had been sleep in. The night lighting after we checked-in was too dim for photoshooting. The cute round cushions were perfect to hold as we watched TV in bed and the wall scounces mimicked Chinese paper lanterns. The decor truly looked effortlessly tasteful and refined.

The Hotel Manager was terribly sweet, and welcomed us not only in person but also with card greetings and digital greetings scattered throughout the room. The staff were all very cute and kind as well, very unique to this boutique hotel. The experience was so personal and so loving, something so different than the world outside the glass windows. Don’t we all miss this kind of loving and kindness? To receive this in the cold busy Hong Kong definitely got me all warm and fuzzy.

While Ms. Ketty left for the bank, I returned back into the room to finally wind down after some rough times at work. A book, a camera, and some music - that‘s all I needed to get my energies and soul back straight. Some of you might have resonance with me in some sort of way. Because I found myself holding the book like a poser, barely reading it, just drifting off into nothingness. With brain levels still on high and vibrating in tense frequency from workdays, I am only a paralysed corpse on days returned to myself.

I must have zoned out quite a lot, because I forgot what happened with the time, very soon my Tahitian sunshine came back already to spend the rest of the afternoon in silly giggles and girly poses with me.

If our breakfast wasn’t already full from the scrumptious salad bar, the hungry hippos we are, we’d already feast ourselves at the colourful fruit bowl that came into our hotel room. Bananas, kiwis, apples and dragon fruit!

The Girlcave Bath!

If men had a mancave, this would be my girlcave.

I always had a thing for beautiful washrooms since I was a child. Growing up, my parent’s had the most luxurious jacuzzi in their master bathroom. Double height with skylights, the jacuzzi became my favourite reading lounge as a child and it remained a great memory of mine. The bathroom at the Pottinger Hotel gave me back many wonderful flashbacks - it was a space to be enjoyed.

It would be a dream that one day I had a large bathroom again like this to spend an afternoon in. Imagine a quiet bubble bath, with light scents of light bergamot, a lemon drink and a soft acoustic music. Until then, it’d just remain a reality for days I could afford a staycation. I’ll remember you Potting Bathtub - your large marble vanity tops and the natural lighting piercing through the sides of your mirror… Love !

A Comfort to Remember

Like all good things must come to an end, Ketty had to leave and I had to bury myself back into work. We are so grateful for the time well-spent here. For me, it was a chance to get to experience Hong Kong in a humble sumptuous manner. For Ketty, it provided a swarm of experiences being in the centre of action and vibrance. The hotel is one worth revisiting and definitely one worth recommending to anyone: young couples, older couples, bachelorette parties, anniversary getaways, friendly getaways, or just an individual staycation! Its beautiful decor, yet not so overwhelming that takes you off the edge.

Humble staff that releases you off your guard. It was a hotel that made me feel at home and at ease. Truly a gem in Hong Kong and has yet to be recognised even further!

Thank you to the hotel and all its staff, especially Gina Tam for the amazing hospitality!

#hotel #restaurant #travel #asia #hong kong #experiences

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lilac-reading-nook · 7 years

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Ravenclaw × Slytherin (Part 4)

"The Shrieking Shack?!" Ravenclaw exclaimed in surprise.

"Trust me," Slytherin soothed her with a soft peck just above her hairline. He took a few bills from his wallet and pressed them into her hands.

"You get the book and I'll take care of the rest."

"The rest? What are you on about?"

"It's a surprise. A proper one this time, I promise."

"Okay... I trust you. I'll see you... at the Shrieking Shack, then."

"See you soon!" Slytherin called over his shoulder as he sprinted away.

Ravenclaw stared at his footprints in the snow, thinking. What was he planning? She was intrigued... and a little bit wary.

While Slytherin saw to his secret preparations, Ravenclaw made her way to Tomes and Scrolls. The familiar smell of books greeted her, a stark and welcome contrast to the aromatic chaos of Madam Puddifoot's tearoom. That's not to say the book shop offered a single, simple scent. Each volume contributed something unique. Some tomes wore a chocolatey musk on their well-worn leather jackets, with yellowed pages fraying at the edges. Others were fresh off the printers with crisp pages and a sharp pine scent. Age and youth, history and possibility. Black ink given color and vibrancy, knowledge and life through collected experience.

Libraries and book shops were the home away from home that Ravenclaw could count on wherever life took her. She would stand among the towering, overfull shelves to quietly rifle and rustle through pages to her heart's content. Doing so put her mind at ease.

A gentleman poked his balding, age spotted head around a nearby shelf. Ravenclaw recognized him as the shopkeeper.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked. His voice was a touch hoarse.

Ravenclaw smiled kindly. "I could use a recommendation, if it's not too much trouble."

"Why, it's no trouble at all for my favorite customer!" He grinned, the reddened orbs of his eyes nearly lost in the folds and creases of the surrounding skin. His wizened face glowed with renewed energy and vigor.

Ravenclaw was glad that she could bring out this lively side of him during her visits. While she never failed to find a good book on her own, she appreciated his grandfatherly company.

"Well, let's see... What are you in the mood for today, my dear?"

"I was thinking a mystery with a bit of romance, but I'm open to anything, really."

"I see..." The old man nodded to himself, deep in thought, and hobbled down the aisle to find a particular shelf. His arthritic fingers stroked the spines of several volumes before settling on one.

"How about 'The Lycan Auror' by Delphina Perguese? You'll like the main character, I reckon. She had an unfortunate brush with a werewolf, you see, but she's determined to retain her position as an Auror even in the face of her newfound lycanthropy. There's romance too, between her and her longtime partner and friend. Of course, a relationship between two female co-workers, one of whom is hiding her lycanthropy, is bound to cause all manner of drama. It doesn't overpower the plot, though. Sound like anything you'd be interested in?" By the time the shopkeeper had gotten to the end of his question, he'd long since run out of breath and was noticably wheezing. He held the book out to Ravenclaw with a trembling hand.

"Yes, thank you," she accepted with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure, miss," he said, adding, "You know, that book was a favorite of Remus Lupin during his later years as a student at Hogwarts. Smart lad, that Lupin. Used to come here often with young Sirius Black on his heels. Of course, that was a very long time ago." The shopkeeper's expression was wistful.

Ravenclaw thanked him for his time and paid for the book, which she tucked under her arm. She hoped it would suffice for whatever it was Slytherin had planned.

Outside, snow continued to fall. The cold powder dusted her hair and clothes as she began to make her way towards the Shrieking Shack.

Meanwhile, Slytherin was frantically wrapping up his preparations. As soon as they'd entered Madam Puddifoot's, he'd known it wasn't the place for them. Now he had a vision of their date as it was supposed to be. With a few last waves of his wand, his work was done. Everything was as he'd imagined. He hoped Ravenclaw would like it.

The Shrieking Shack awaited her. It was as she had expected, a dilapidated building with boarded up windows. Its wood siding had been weathered and cracked over time. Cautiously, she stepped up to the front door and knocked.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" she called out.

Silence.

Ravenclaw ran her fingers through her hair, as she often did when she was nervous. Where was Slytherin? Was she too early? Should she wait out here, or...? The door creaked open. Ravenclaw's eyes went wide. She took a step back.

"Is someone there?"

A soft light appeared among the shadows inside. It flickered as if beckoning her forward. She hesitated, casting a look behind her. Still no sign of Slytherin out there.

Hugging the book to her chest, Ravenclaw crossed the threshold into the Shrieking Shack. The door slammed itself shut behind her. She jumped and squealed in spite of herself, spinning around to face the source of the sound. The light at her back threw her feminine silhouette onto the heavy wooden door like a shadow puppet screen. It was... unnerving. Even more so when a second shadow joined Ravenclaw's, taller and thinner. It raised its arm to lay a single finger on her shoulder. She shrieked and threw herself sideways at the door.

Slytherin chuckled. "It's just me."

Ravenclaw straightened, one fist clenched at her side, and strode up to him. Even in the dim lighting, Slytherin could see her expression was fierce.

"Of course it's you!" she shouted and punched his upper arm.

He grimaced. "Ow!"

"You deserved that."

"Still worth it. I meant what I said before. You're cute when you're scared."

"Try anything like that again and I'll show you what it means to be scared," Ravenclaw snapped. "I'm the new head of the Hogwarts dueling club for a reason."

Slytherin massaged his arm with a scowl. "You're a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure," he admitted. "Now, if you're quite done punching me, would you like to see the real surprise? Or shall we continue to stand here in the dark?"

Ravenclaw went quiet.

Slytherin pulled out his wand, muttered a spell, and flicked his wrist. Candles ignited throughout the room as if in a chain reaction, illuminating the space with a gentle, wavering light.

Ravenclaw gasped. While she had never set foot inside of the Shrieking Shack before, she'd heard and read enough about it to know what it was supposed to look like. This wasn't it. The infamous peeling wallpaper and broken furniture had all been repaired. A blanket was spread out on the floor in the middle of the foyer, laden with an assortment of foods and sweets from a handful of different Hogsmeade shops. From Honeydukes, there were cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, licorice spiders, treacle fudge, crystalized pineapple, toothflossing stringmints, and -- of course -- two small boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. In addition, there was a meat and cheese tray and--

"Is that fire whiskey?" Ravenclaw asked, astonished.

"Yup. It's best not to ask where that came from."

"Wow. You really went all out."

Slytherin laughed half-heartedly, embarrassed. "No, no. If I learned anything from today so far, it's that going all out spells disaster. This... This is simple. Do you like it?"

"Oh, of course! This is really nice."

Ravenclaw took Slytherin's hand and leaned into his shoulder, admiring the little haunted house picnic he'd set up for them. Coming here to this abandoned building, she hadn't known what to expect from him. This was a pleasant surprise.

Slytherin kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you like it. C'mon, let's sit."

The two fifth-years settled in next to each other on the blanket with their knees touching. They smiled and blushed but did not move apart. Slytherin passed Ravenclaw a cauldron cake. She set 'The Lycan Auror' down on her lap while she dug into the moist dessert. Slytherin glanced at the book.

"That's an interesting title," he said. "I don't think I've ever heard of an Auror who was a werewolf before."

Ravenclaw licked stray chocolate crumbs from her lips. "Well, I can't say I've ever heard of that happening either, but I reckon it must, on occasion. The Ministry surely wouldn't want anyone to know, assuming they would even be aware themselves. So it's entirely possible there's a 'Lycan Auror' on the job right now," she reasoned.

There was a light in her eyes when she talked to someone who cared to listen no matter how silly or outlandish her ideas might seem. Slytherin was content, no, honored to be the pair of listening ears she longed for.

"What did you ask me to pick a book out for, anyway?" she asked.

His smile was shy and guilty. "Well, I needed to keep you occupied while I set up here," he confessed, "but also..."

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Slytherin's sheepish grin grew. "I was thinking that we could read it together, maybe. If you'd like to."

Her face froze without expression. "I think," she began carefully, "no, I know... That is the sexiest suggestion I've ever heard, or read, in my entire life."

Suddenly, she was kissing Slytherin, and he was kissing her, their faces painted in shadow and flickering candlelight.

When their lips finally separated, Slytherin and Ravenclaw curled up together to read. Thus, the two young lovers found a safe haven of their own making in a haunted house and the tender pages of a good book.

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