#(the shoulders that go with the bodice are actually pretty cool and i used some astral currency on them but not for this outfit)

[anghraine]

Finally playing GW2 semi-regularly again and decided it was time for a new costume!

[tssdresses]

Orange Poll Dress | The PlanTM

Hi, everyone, and happy pride month!

Now that I've officially ordered all the materials I need for this outfit, I wanted to give you all an idea of what my plan is.

This outfit is going to consist of six (seven, depending on how you count) pieces, plus shoes. In order from head to toe, that's:

Hat

Dress

Removable/optional sleeves

Blazer

Corset

Underskirt/petticoat

Shoes

I've also ordered some accessories, including sunglasses and some fun jewelry inspired by steampunk looks-- specifically by Dahlia's outfit from the Sexy Photoshoot video, because it slayed. I also ordered one of those antique looking pocket watches, because it looked cool and fit with the vibe.

The materials I ordered included, of course, fabric for the dress, underskirt, and sleeves, but also a hat (y'all I was not about to try and make a hat this go around), a Simplicity pattern for the dress that I'll alter, a spool of bronze chain, and even through the poll results for charms were to just focus on chain, I wanted to get some gear charms. Every time I tried to picture this outfit, it felt incomplete without the gear charms, but they will be sparse to reflect your choice. I also ordered a corset as opposed to trying to make one-- it is on my bucket list to do! Just not for this project.

So, in order, here's The PlanTM:

For the dress, you all voted for a high neckline with a basque waist and bishop sleeves. The bishop sleeves are pretty easy, but... I live in the US American South, and summer was fast approaching when the time to actually plan this dress came around. It's summer now, as I write this. It's hot. So, I wanted an option to remove the sleeves, and to make them a lighter material. As far as the literal construction goes, though, the sleeves are easy.

I made a high-necked dress for Logan's dress and it went... okay. It worked, I mean. However, I wanted to actually follow a pattern for this one, so I tracked down a turtleneck dress pattern to use.

The basque waist I have no idea how to do, full stop. So, I'm going to cheat, and use the corset to make that.

Putting this all together, I am going to follow the dress pattern I've purchased to create the bodice, and then alter the pattern to add fullness and pockets to the skirt. The corset on top will give some contrast and layering, as well as adding the basque wasitline (also, y'all need to forgive me if I ever type baroque instead of basque-- they live next to each other in my head and I so desperately want to call the v-wasit a baroque waistline, and one day I'm going to be too excited to share something with you that I'll screw it up). When I add the fullness to the skirt, I'm also going to hike it and sew it in place to create the asymmetrical element.

The underskirt will be made of a dark blue thin tulle, to provide some contrast to all the orange and neutrals (white, black, brown, bronze, etc.) we'll have going on, and if it works the way I hope it does, will peak out of the negative space made by the asymmetrical fall of the skirt. If I have enough fabric, I'm going to add some of the blue tulle to the cuffs of the sleeves.

The sleeves are going to close at the upper bicep and at the wrist and be made of an orange crystal organza, leaving my shoulders exposed and being easy enough to remove/make optional to the outfit. Most likely, when the sleeves are off, the blazer will be on.

Speaking of the blazer, what's up with that? Well, I found an old grey/brown blazer in my closet, I have truly no idea where it came from, and I'm going to alter it to go with the look. So, that's the story of the blazer.

The blazer, corset, and hat will all be pre-existing items which I will alter and embellish with the chain and gear charms to make them more steampunk-y. If I have the time and energy, I'll probably go in with my embroidery thread, too! This also goes for the shoes, which are back heels that already look like they'd fit in a steampunk setting! Thrifted them for like three bucks, too, so that's epic.

I came *this* close to buying a fancy cane, but ended up not getting it (unfortunately, I've chosen an expensive hobby, so I spend a lot of time budgeting to buy the best quality materials I can, and the cane didn't make the cut).

My goal is the various layers will all work together to make a fun steampunk cosplay! Materials should hopefully all be here by the end of the week. I'm getting a tattoo on Saturday (!!!), and then I'm hoping to start working on the dress this weekend. I'll keep you all updated!

[maliciousalice]

Hii Do you have a fave Janeway out-of-uniform look?

Ohh this is such a hard choice! There are so many reasons I like her out of uniform-- A lot of the time it's because we get to see who she is behind the veil. That couldn't be more apparent than in Resolutions, she flirts, explores and relaxes while she struggles to maintain her identity. She has like, 5 costume changes in that episode, albeit modest in design, they are quite revealing in a sub-textual way. Funnily enough, I actually would like to catalogue each time she is out of uniform and break down how it relates to the narrative etc. I sometimes ponder about the choices that have been made with hair and costume. We don't actually know much besides a few articles and scattered pieces of media--Most behind the scene information is about set design, which in it's own right is cool, but sometimes feels like it’s highlighted due to the male audience and as a result the other artists aren't valued enough. In theory, I'd like to uplift them because their efforts transform the lack frontal, narrative-body of some characters- we consequently learn things such as the fashion of the era, character’s states of mind, setting, etc, simply through what they are wearing– Do I dislike that? No. Because I understand the format of Star Trek is limited by the nature of being a 24 episode per season show. Sometimes things appear rushed or incomplete but if you look in the right direction, the work that was produced is just as rich as most shows, if not more. For the most part don’t think audiences appreciate the conditions that this show was made under.

The whole show has certainly been more impactful on the cultural zeitgeist than others and I think the reason for that success goes beyond the surface level- It’s not just a simple miracle that it works as well as it does, talented teams of actors, writers and people in costume all combined their skills together to forge it. They did the best they could with what they were given, and I appreciate the costume designers and writers for attempting to provide some semblance of substance in the background. (On another note I wish Paramount had archived their costumes better. Evil that we only get high resolution photography when they're selling them to someone's private collection)

However, to answer your actual question, my favourite out of uniform stint is when Captain Janeway is modified to look like a Klingon in the Killing Game! The disguise worked so well for me that I didn't recognise her on my first watch through.

Interestingly in the brief scene with brainwashed Janeway, we see an acting side of Kate's that is pretty rare. She delivered a unique and entertaining performance. While she has had to get physical on a few occasions as Janeway, and even other roles, she has never had to go full feral mode and I love seeing her in a way that is untethered from all of herself, she yells, bares her teeth, barrels into others, and does somersaults without hesitation. It's delightful choreography, and It immediately makes us question what is going on. Who is this? Can’t possibly be our well-adjusted hero, because whoever this is, is brazenly-fierce and in Klingon attire! But yes we find out it is indeed her, arguably a repressed version of her mind but regardless Janeway is completely transformed both physically and mentally, and that’s shockingly fun. 

Lending to that idea of fun, is the juxtaposingly detailed presentation of the Klingon costume versus the Starfleet uniform. I love the overall shapes, matte qualities contrasting with the metal details, the decorative line-work that leads the eye around, and materials such as swinging chains and fur, that make it look good in motion. From what I’ve seen there is a difference in the female and male armour, with the breast plating and bodice design. The armour’s bulky top half with its shoulder pads deliver a signature look, and it looks great against the simplified bottom. Considering Klingon’s do a lot of close combat, my guess is that it’s design is more about manoeuvrability, and boasting intimidation, rather than heavy defence. Ironically after all that ducking and dodging, ho ho Janeway gets stabbed for leaving her guard down. If I looked, I am sure I could find something to back that up, since Klingons have extremely dedicated lore. 

The makeup on Janeway is really neat too, the orange tones they used on her face make her crystalline eye colour dramatically pop. There is also a delicious parallel to her styling and B'Elanna's mother from Barge of the Dead in the episode that I quietly indulge in BUT I DIGRESS.

Despite the unusual circumstances, I wish we had more photography done of Kate in the unique costumes she wore beyond a few on set pictures, because I want to ogle at a more editorial/detailed press presentation of each one and I believe that everyone should treasure all versions of Janeway.

Blah Blah Blahhhh haha

I feel a little vulnerable spreading my thoughts around but I really appreciate you asking me about them and getting me out of my shell <333.

[waterlilyvioletfog]

“Man in A Dress”, Gone With The Rain

TW: discussion of misogynistic and especially anti-trans tropes/stereotypes/rhetoric in media. I use male pronouns for a character who may be interpreted as transfem, for clarity.

Caveat: I’m white, I’m queer but not transfem, I haven’t watched the whole show and I haven’t read the novel the show is based on. Spoilers through Episode 18.

So it’s a reasonably common trope in cdramas I’ve watched recently to have a male character wear women’s clothes for Sneaking purposes (not usually Sexual Sneaking, but still uncomfortably close to that anti-trans trope) and it’s always played for laughs and it’s always like “oh doesn’t our six foot tall male lead with big broad shoulders look so silly in this maid costume hur dur”. Some dramas (Starry Love) can manage to make this not blindingly offensive, but other dramas like say, Blood of Youth, may have scenes where the male characters are in drag and look ridiculous and “unwomanly” and awkward. Lots of furtive looks and hunching down and hissing because They Are Men.

Gone With The Rain has two examples (so far, I’ve just gotten through ep. 18) of a “male” character dressing in women’s clothes… and they both feel different (at least to me) from this trope, or at least like there is something more substantial and meaningful at work than mere “man in dress lol” anti-trans misogynistic jokes.

The first case is in the first arc when Bai Moxi, our main heroine, dresses Wan Jiagui (a young loyalist soldier trapped in a rebel-controlled city) in women’s clothes and has him act as a body double for her so that he (and originally also she) can escape the city. Wan Jiagui is initially hesitant and embarrassed by this because He Is A Man and also your crush buying you women’s clothes is apparently emasculating or whatever, but the execution… Wan Jiagui is wearing clothes made to fit his body, not borrowed clothes, and there’s nothing sheer or form-fitting going on. The costume he and Moxi both wear isn’t the sort of thing she usually wears, either, with a big draping scarf as part of the bodice instead of her usual jacket, and cool tones where she’s so far mostly worn reds and oranges. It’s still not men’s clothes, but it’s not something that we would expect either character to wear. This makes the dissonance doubled (both characters are out of their usual uniform) and thus reduced (Wan Jiagui doesn’t necessarily look weirder to the audience than Moxi does). And beyond the initial discomfort Wan Jiagui displays, there isn’t much comedy to the disguise. The costumes serve a purpose, it makes sense that he’d dress as her, and he acts pretty much as he has for the last several episodes, including having a chase scene full of tension and danger, all while wearing women’s clothes. The male character isn’t wearing women’s clothes to sneak around the women’s quarters at the palace, he’s wearing them as his most practical choice of outfit for escaping a dangerous situation, with the co-conspiracy (actually, primary conspiracy) of the female lead. Instead of sinister or silly, it’s smart.

The second case is Wu Yin. Wu Yin (played by actress Liu Meitong) is an ostensibly male character who has disguised himself as a woman to infiltrate a women’s school. This, on the surface, is like, the DEFINITION of the predatory man in drag anti-trans trope— male character dresses as a woman to deceive women and enter a women’s-only space. But, as Bai Moxi notes, he’s not there for “promiscuity”, as she puts it. This is the primary reason why she doesn’t tell anyone when she discovers that Wu Yin is AMAB. If Feng Ming, who’s been harassing Moxi and her cousin Fengyao, had done the same thing, she’d scream to the rooftops. Bai Moxi does blackmail Wu Yin regarding his gender, but evidently feels no fear towards him and sees no harm in his continued presence. She blackmails Wu Yin because it’s a point of leverage and she’s a shady, scheming opportunist, not because she thinks what Wu Yin is doing is wrong.

Wu Yin (in situ) does behave differently from the rest of the class, but it mostly comes off as “Wu Yin is a stick-up-the-ass bluestocking surrounded by silly beauties who dance all night”. Wu Yin’s just naturally proper and somber, not uncomfortable. Additionally, we have another comparison of female characters wearing traditionally male clothes in the other class, who are top students who learn archery. Gender nonconformity is expected, textually and visually, and there’s a female character who belongs to that other class who has exactly as many hidden agendas and secret plans as Wu Yin does.

Most crucially for me are the scenes after the Marquis’s visit (Wu Yin wore traditionally masculine clothes for this time) where Wu Yin presents as a woman again. Everyone in the school knows Wu Yin is AMAB. Wu Yin just dresses as a woman because this is a women’s school and he should dress the part. Wu Yin’s words! The idea that a male character could willingly return to presenting and living as a woman, for no material gain— that isn’t anti-trans at all. That’s as close to a trans-positive narrative as you can get without explicitly making a character trans.

If you treat Wu Yin as a genuine portrayal of the transfem experience, Wu Yin’s guilt when Moxi calls him a man reads as self-internalized transphobia, or fear of being outed; wearing male clothes when acting as an official and returning to women’s clothes after comes across as a trans person closeting themselves around their co-workers and family; Wu Yin presenting as male becomes inextricably tied to loyalty to Wu Lang and his conformity is closeting for a transphobic parent’s love and approval; and Bai Moxi and Chen Wende both saying Wu Yin looks good in women’s clothes comes off as support and gender affirmation, demonstrating that trans individuals can be genuinely attractive in their gender identity, that the desire isn’t a one-way street for trans people.

All of this is not to say that the creators of this series intended to make a genuinely positive portrayal of the transfem experience or to show a transphobic and misogynistic joke played straight where a cishet male dude can just wear the fucking dress and kick ass— I’m sure that you can make the opposite case, and I’m not an expert in trans storytelling or stereotypes and can’t speak to the transfem experience personally. But it’s a way that a person with the lens of feminist, trans, and queer coding could feasibly interpret the text, and I think that’s interesting.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 11

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Spark.

She watches Ethan from the couch as he pulls a tin of muffins out of the oven, arranging a few on a plate. She’s been thinking a lot about what Mulder said about not having a spark with his ex. She wonders if she and Ethan have a spark, or if they did at one point. When she thinks about her relationship with Ethan, what stands out to her is commitment, dedication, stability. And love, of course, she does love him.

When they first met through mutual friends, she wasn’t particularly interested. He was perfectly nice, and good looking enough, but struck her more as a potential friend than a boyfriend. He was steadfast, kept showing up, kept gently working to get to know her, and eventually she started to grow fond of him. They’ve joked that while his attraction to her was immediate, hers to him was more of a slow burn. This is what mature, adult relationships are like, right? Measured, practical, logical. When you’re young, wild, and free, you date whoever you have the most fun with, chasing the next exciting experience and the rush of a first kiss. But the person you marry should be someone who you know will be a dependable partner, a good parent, and a lifelong support. That has always been her belief.

Ethan returns to sit with her on the couch, setting the muffins on the coffee table to cool. He picks up her feet and puts them in his lap, casting her a brief smile before he goes to work pressing his thumbs into her arches as he watches TV.

Spark.

Is that what she feels when she’s with Mulder? A spark? Is that why her stomach goes into knots when he looks at her? Why she feels the overwhelming urge to touch him? The sensation that there is an electrical current passing between them is not one she’s ever felt with Ethan, that’s for sure. There was no adrenaline in their first kiss, only contentment. Comfort, safety, security. These are good feelings, ones you can build a life on. Can you build a life on a spark?

“You still going to try on dresses tomorrow with Missy?” he asks, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Mhmm,” she answers over her book, which she hasn’t gotten through a page of in over thirty minutes.

“Are you gonna let me see what you pick?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye with a surreptitious smirk.

She sets the book on her stomach and gives him a chastising smile. “Of course not, Ethan. That’s against the rules.”

“Who made that rule, anyway? I’ve already seen you naked, I should be able to see you in a fancy dress before the big day,” he says with a pointed look.

She swats him with the book.

“The fact that you’ve already seen me naked is also against the rules, so I guess we’re 0 for 2. Don’t tell my mother that,” she lectures playfully.

“I’m sure she has her suspicions, given that we live together,” he says dryly.

“Leave the woman to her ignorant bliss,” she retorts, and they hold eye contact for a moment, exchanging affectionate smiles.

Not a spark, but maybe an ember. Burning steady, carrying them through the dark nights. Sparks die out quickly. She only hopes her spark with Mulder fades soon, because right now it’s burning so bright it’s distracting her from the ember sitting right at her feet.

———

She frowns at herself in the mirror.

“This one is really pretty, Sis, you don’t like it?” Missy asks, tugging at the train to straighten it out.

“I don’t know. Maybe. No.”

She looks forlornly at the rack of dresses she’s already tried on. Every length and cut, style of bodice and neckline. They all seemed wrong.

“I mean, I know you’re generally hard to please, Dana, but this is getting ridiculous,” Missy laments.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies, casting Missy an apologetic look.

“Which one do you think Ethan would like? Would that help you decide?” Missy offers helpfully.

Ethan. Right. She realizes that she’s been thinking about what Mulder would make of her in a white dress. She suspects he’d go for the mermaid fit.

“Can we just try again another day, maybe? I think I’m just not in the right headspace for this,” she pleads with her big sister.

“Sure, whatever you want. Let’s go get coffee or something,” Missy says as she ushers Dana back into the changing room.

They go to her favorite local spot, finding two open armchairs near the fireplace, which is off for the summer. Dana tucks her legs under her torso, sipping at an indulgent white chocolate mocha; she feels the need for small pleasures right now. Missy eyes her appraisingly, and she can feel the third degree that is about to commence.

“So what’s up with you?” she finally asks, her tone inquisitive but not abrasive.

“What do you mean?” Dana asks in reply, avoiding her eyes.

Missy’s head drops to the side in exasperation. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Dana? I’m trying to be supportive of your decision to marry Ethan, but you’re making it really hard being so openly miserable all the time.”

Dana looks at her with surprise and indignation. “I am not miserable.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Missy says sarcastically.

Dana shakes her head. “I’m just...I don’t know, I have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to elaborate?” Missy asks with an expectant look.

She sighs and sets her shoulders. She needs to talk to someone about this, and Missy is literally her only option.

“Okay, but first I need you to promise me you’re not going to make a big deal about this, because it’s really not a big deal,” she prefaces with a stern look.

“You know me, I don’t do big deals,” Missy replies, working hard to hide her anticipation for whatever her little sister is about to reveal.

“Okay. So, I met this man at work,” she starts, and Missy’s eyes go as round as oranges. “Missy, don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Missy defends, “go on.” She’s leaning forward in her chair, creating less space between them.

“He’s an agent, he was just picking something up for a case he’s working on, but he asked me out, and we’ve kind of been...we’ve become friends,” she says hesitantly, glancing at Missy to gage her reaction. Missy is forcing a blank expression.

“So...you’re dating him?” she asks flatly.

“No! Oh god, no. I mean, he asked me out and I told him that I have a boyfriend, but now we’re just kind of friends, and….Jesus Christ.” She drops her forehead into her palm. Even describing what’s going on with Mulder is apparently impossible. “We are just friends, but...but I’m having a hard time reconciling how I feel about him.”

“How do you feel about him?” Missy asks.

Dana shakes her head. “I don’t know how to describe it, Missy. I love Ethan, I’m not having doubts about him, but this man...I feel so drawn to him. Being around him feels...almost electric.”

“Like you have a spark?” Missy asks, and Dana’s head snaps to look at her. She’s open, curious.

“Yeah...exactly like that,” she replies regretfully.

Missy nods in understanding, and it somehow makes Dana feel a little better, like she’s not totally crazy. “Tell me about him,” she requests, and Dana can’t help but smile.

“Um, he’s a criminal behavioral analyst, in the Behavioral Science Unit. Oxford educated. He’s funny, but in a dry, intellectual way. He has some pretty outlandish ideas, but he’s so passionate about what he believes in, it’s impossible not to take him seriously. He’s kind of intense, but really alluring.” She pauses, knowing she can’t go on much further without veering into gushing.

“Is he cute?” Missy asks, and Dana closes her eyes.

“SO good looking. Painfully so.” She opens them and Missy is smiling knowingly at her.

“Sounds like a real catch, Sis.”

“Yeah, but I’m engaged to someone who is also a great catch in his own right. I feel like I’m in a romcom.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Missy asks earnestly.

Dana looks at her with surprise. “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. It’s just distracting, but obviously nothing can or will come of it.”

Missy gives her a doubtful expression, but then raises her eyes to meet with someone over Dana’s shoulder, giving them a questioning look. Dana turns to see Mulder standing beside her, a cup in his hand and that damn boyish smile on his mouth.

“Hey, Scully, we meet again,” he says, glancing between her and Missy.

“Mulder, hi,” she stumbles, bringing her feet to the floor and squirming around as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. “Um, Mulder, this is my sister, Melissa. Missy, this is Fox Mulder.”

He steps forward and extends his hand to Missy, and she shakes it with a flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Fox.”

“Oh, please call me Mulder,” he replies.

“Alright, Mulder, would you like to join us?” Missy asks, and Dana shoots her a look.

“Um, yeah, I can hang out for a minute,” he replies cautiously, pulling up a chair between the two of theirs.

“So, how do you and Dana know each other?” she asks, and Dana isn’t sure if she’s asking because she realizes who he is, or because she doesn’t.

“We work together, technically speaking. I’m a criminal behavioral analyst in the Behavioral Science Unit.” Missy gives Dana a look that tells her it was the latter. “What are you two up to today?” he asks, running his palm over a stubbled cheek. She can hear the scratch of the short hairs against his skin and it sets off a tingle at the back of her neck.

“We were just doing some wedding dress shopping,” Missy offers, watching his reaction closely.

“Ah,” he says, only moderately concealing his dissatisfaction, “sounds like a good time.” His tone is dry and not at all genuine. “So, Scully,” he says, directing his words to Dana, “Priscilla was wondering if you could stop by next weekend. She has something to show you.”

She smiles coyly. “Does she? Not a hairball, I hope?”

Mulder chuckles. “No, it’s a file, actually. Her personal favorite, she’d love to share it with you.”

“I think I might be free on Saturday,” she replies, “I just need to check, um…”

“Check with Ethan, right,” he finishes, his smile fading a bit.

“Right,” she confirms, her own smile quickly extinguishing.

Mulder stands. “I’ll email you, to confirm.” He turns to Missy, “It was nice to meet you, Melissa.”

Missy beams at him. “Likewise.”

Mulder turns to Scully and gives her a longing glance, then leaves. They watch him go, waiting until the door has closed behind him to speak.

Missy slaps Dana’s arm. “Oh. My. GOD, Sis!” she exclaims with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What?” Dana returns.

“Spark? That is a goddamn bonfire. Even I could feel it,” she says with a look of wonder.

Dana gives her a pained expression then drops her head into her hands with a groan.

“Why does he call you Scully? And who the hell is Priscilla?” Missy adds.

Dana lifts her head, looking at her sister regretfully with a shrug.

“He said I don’t look like a Dana. Priscilla is his cat.”

Missy closes her eyes for a moment and gently shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing like she’s trying to reconcile all this information in her brain.

“Whoa, so you’ve been to his place?” Missy asks incredulously.

Dana nods hesitantly.

“Sis, what are you doing? If you were to tell me that you’re going to break it off with Ethan and run away with that beautiful man I would honestly support you. But if you’re trying to keep things on the up and up here, a private rendezvous at his apartment seems like a really bad idea.” Missy is deeply confused, not used to being in the position to tell her sister what decisions are unwise. That is typically Dana’s role in their relationship.

Dana glares at her sister defensively. “We’re just friends, Missy. Men and women can be just friends.”

Missy shoots her a ‘do you think I was born yesterday?’ look.

“Sure they can, if they aren’t insanely attracted to each other. That man practically devoured you with his eyes, Dana. He wants to be more than your friend,” she says emphatically.

“Well, he’s not going to be. I’m with Ethan. And I’m an adult who can control myself enough to maintain boundaries with a platonic friend who happens to be an attractive man. I’m not a Neanderthal, Missy.” She’s using her professor voice, presenting the topic with supporting evidence. Only the facts, folks.

“Okay,” Missy says, acquiescing. “If you trust yourself then great, have fun with your friend. Does Ethan know you’re gallivanting around with a sexy behavioral analyst?”

The guilty look that overtakes Dana’s face is answer enough.

“Well,” Missy continues, “just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she brings levity back to the conversation with a little smirk.

“That leaves me with a lot of options, Missy,” Dana retorts, and Missy slaps her arm again.

[romanceimp]

Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month) 

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

_ 

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.    

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.  

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,” you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?    

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.  

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar.  “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and  couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off,  finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking.  The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer.  “You’re just a baby,  you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed.  “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party…  you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.”  Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his,  your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand.  “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’,  ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…” Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”  

[winter-fox-queen]

Kisses Like Wine Part 5

Warnings:  Cursing, some not very nice dealings to not very nice people, angst.

Summary:  Despite his best efforts, you catch up to the Thief…but the consequences are far from what you hoped for.

That bastard had no right to look that good in a red velvet coat.

There he was, in his own private box, watching the opera like like he was the king of the world, opera glasses looking fragile and delicate in his hand.

Concentrate.  He’s here for the same reason you are.  And you are damned well going to beat him to his prize.

Her brother had come through.  Found out who owned the auction house — I’d managed to find out about the discrete, underground auctions when I worked at Gambrel’s.  I found out that the couple would be here tonight, all I had to do was see if I could find a way to get their key card fir the suite at the hotel they were staying at.  Apparently they did not live in Rome, and only came in when they had things to sell.

They were older than I imagined.  The woman looking elegant and patrician, her husband looked like a oversized fire hydrant.  Their body language was not what I expected.  They seemed to like each other very much, a fondness of many years together That made me a little envious. I’d followed them from the hotel, managed to see where he put the key card. I’d been careful…I heard whispering of how they made their money, and if it as true they where Not to be Messed With.

So, of course, I was planning on messing with them.

I snuck into a seat not too far behind them, but hopefully out of the path of The Theif’s gaze, and tried to be patient.  I would move during intermission.  Then I would have a whole half an opera and late dinner to break in and get what I wanted.

I glanced back up at the thief.  He was too beautiful, and I liked looking at him far too much.  His question about why I wanted the star was bothering me.  What was the point?  I followed him because he told me to.  Because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.  Because I hoped if I retrieved the star I’d be…more equal.  More accepted?  I probably have about as much of my family’s love and acceptance I was probably going to get, but the idea of being the hero was alluring.

Maybe even as alluring as the Thief.

I was pretty angry with him, honestly.  I knew he drugged me, I felt slightly drunk and out of it for a moment, enough disorientation to give him a chance to flee.  It was stupid, probably, to be disappointed.  If a tiger bites you, do you yell at it?  Or do you accept that you shouldn’t have petted it in the first place?

Intermission.  Finally.  I followed them at a pace.  I actually wanted to see if he would approach them first.  So I hid.  Followed, pretended to join a group and nod wisely until they noticed me and I muttered apologies and moved on.  The place was a crush of people drinking, talking, discussing the opera.  Perfect.

There.  Flash of deep velvet.  He was moving nonchalantly, as if he had nothing to do, closing in along her right side, away from her husband…so I did something awful.  I pushed the elegant woman right into his arms.  The Thief had two choices, let her fall, or catch her.

He caught her.

I went in, dipped into the man’s pocket, grabbed the wallet and left, letting the jostling of other people and his distraction with a very handsome man holding his wife cover up my actions.

I extracted the key card, turned the wallet in at the bar, and left quickly.

It was all so smooth.  I felt fairly cocky.  It was all so simple.

Until I got to the safe.  I found it fine.  There were only so many places to look.  But I sat there, cross legged, my tight, elegant dress pushed up so I could sit comfortably on the floor, and realized I was completely out of my element.  I fiddled with the edge of my latex glove and worried.

“It’s not in there.”

I squeaked.  Like a damned mouse.  I turned and hurled a shoe at him, and he ducked.

He smirked at me.

“How did you get in?”

“She had a keycard in her purse…thank you for throwing her into my arms.  That made things so much easier.”

I stood.  “You are so…insufferable.  Yes.  Don’t you dare look hurt, you know you are.   Now.  How do you know it’s not in there?  There’s no where else it could be.”

He leaned against the low dresser and shrugged.

“Fine.”  I shooed him away and returned my attention to the safe.

“I’m telling you, you are wasting your time.”

“Why should I believe you?  You who love to drug me, lie to me…”

“I don’t love that at all.”  He had the nerve to sound actually hurt rather than the fake hurt of earlier.

“So either tell me where you think the diamond is, or open the damned safe.”

He smirked at me.  “They aren’t going to put a million dollar jewel in a hotel safe…but they might put something less expensive looking in there.”  He got out his phone and started playing with the screen.  The safe made a sound.  I knelt and opened it.

“Well?”  He asked.

“You had an app on your phone to open a hotel safe?”

“Absolutely.  Hotel safes are worthless, might as well keep your valuables in a locked drawer under some tampons.”

I caught the dig, glared at him. “Everyone’s a comedian. I have an iPad, and a slip of paper.” A slip of paper wrapped around a USB key.

He held out his hand, and I gave him the iPad.

“No, that’s useless…I want the paper.”

I smiled and pushed it down into my bodice.

He stepped closer to be, his eyes dark.  “Do you think I am above retrieving that?”

I looked up into his eyes.  They were almost completely black, and I shivered.  I was filled with the need to feel those large hands, cupping my breasts, stroking my skin.  I cleared my throat and said, “The play ended forty five minutes ago.  They probably got to Francesco’s for their reservation about ten minutes after that…the place right across the street from the opera house.  That means that we probably only have a half an hour left before they get here, so I suggest…”

The elevator dinged.  We looked at the still closed door.

“There are three rooms on this floor,” I said softly.

“Not booked.”  He threw the iPad back into the safe and closed it.  I ran to the window.

“No ledge,” I shot him a panicked look.

The coat closet.  They might use that.  The Bathroom.  They would definitely use that. The bedroom…sneak under the bed, and wait?

He grabbed my waist swept us behind the door as it opened.  He sprayed something in their faces and they fell before they were even truly across the thresh hold.

“Now what?  If they come to they’ll know…”

“And they’ll change the code you are so obligingly keeping for me in your bosom.  So…we must get them ready for bed.”  He grabbed the man by the wrists and pulled him the rest of the way in, as I shut the door.

“I don’t…”

He looked me in the eye.  “If you woke up naked in your husband’s arms, would you say you didn’t remember how you got there?”

“That’s…that’s horrifying on so many levels.  I mean…she does not look like a woman who would be happy with strangers seeing her naked.”

“I don’t want to see other of them nude, but unfortunately someone interfered with my plans and now we have to improvise and hope for the best.”

I started to help him.  “I cannot believe this is the first plan you came up with.”

He shot me an annoyed look.  So, we improvised.

A short time later we were back on the sidewalk again. “I am going to feel horrible about that for the rest of my life,” I informed him as the cool night air hit my face again.

“We were as polite and gentle as possible.  And, in truth, neither of them will ever find themselves guests at a cocktail party in heaven.”  He turned to me.  “Now, as for you…”

“No.  No you don’t.  You don’t get to come close enough to drug me or seduce me.  Ever.  You want the USB, you have to follow me to the warehouse.”

He walked a circle around me.  “You are not dressed for the occasion.”

I followed him the best I could.  I could feel the bite of the USB under my right breast.  “I can adapt.”

“You can.  You do.  I am impressed with you,” he said in his most satin voice.

“Stop it.”  There was a plea edging my words.

“What is your price?” He said, so close his breath ghosted over my bare shoulder.  I stepped away quickly, turned.  He raised his hands, all innocence.

“You won’t pay it.  Now stop this…stop this seduction garbage.  You don’t want me.  You want the damned USB.”

“I’ll pay.  Oh, I’ll pay.  My first honest transaction in years.  Now.  The price?”

I shook my head, I felt overwhelmed.  Conflicting hopes and thoughts churning away inside of me, and I couldn’t tell anyone.

“The Star.  For your family.  Will that give you what you want?”

“What else can I have?”

He gave an expansive shrug, haloed in the yellow street lamp like a Renaissance saint.  “What do you want?”

“What about you?  Are you on the table?”

He stopped.  “No.”

“But you told me to come find you.”

He looked away.  I felt like I’d stolen all his lines, and now there he was, naked and exposed on the stage.

“And you did.”  His face closed like an iron door.  “Good job.”

I’d misread him. I thought I’d understood this wild chase, but I’d been fool. What did I expect? I didn’t even know his name. “I don’t want anything from you, then.”  I said, and I pulled the USB out of my bodice.  It caught, it was not a smooth motion, it was awkward and I felt stupid, my grand gesture of throwing it at him ruined.  It bounced off him and fell in the street.  “I’m tired of you.  You’re no better than my family.”  I didn’t look up to see how the words hit, I just kept walking.

Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know.  <3

@grogusmum @mishasminion360 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @pedro4ever @writteninthestars18 @fromthedeskoftheraven @sharkbait77

@quica-quica-quica @eri16 @the-blind-assassin @ayoungpascallover-readings @songsformonkeys

[cosplayinamerica]

Princess Daisy : pencils_and_pincushions // photo: that_fedora_photographer

I’m a Canadian cosplayer who has been cosplaying since 2007. I’ve had a love for Victorian fashion since I very young age (my little kid brain basically made the connection that Victorian dresses = women dressing like Disney princesses IRL), but the thing that kickstarted my desire to learn sewing was going to a fabric store with my mother when I was in my senior year of high school and seeing a Butterick pattern catalogue that had Victorian-inspired costumes. Almost instantly I had a lightbulb moment that if I learned to sew, I could actually wear those big fancy gowns I loved.   

I entered university and, over the next few years, spent my free time reading and learning everything I could about sewing. In 2007, my best friend invited me to Anime North - she was going as a gothic lolita-inspired version of the Queen of Hearts, so I decided I would make a Mad Hatter to accompany her.

I was so excited that I jumped in completely head-first, and it ended up being my first foray into both sewing and pattern drafting. In hindsight it was wildly ambitious for a first project (and I’m still a little surprised that I actually pulled it off!), but I’m so glad that my enthusiasm made me persevere and psh through the challenges, because I learned a ton from that experience and ended up with a cosplay I was thrilled with.

I remember seeing myself in the mirror the first time and being so happy when I realized I’d been able to bring something to life from my imagination. When my friend and I got to the con, things only got better from there - the atmosphere was so energetic and colourful thanks to all the amazing cosplays, and it was filled with so many fun, enthusiastic, and friendly people. From that day I was officially hooked on cosplay.

I’m part of the Toronto Steampunk Society and, each year at Fan Expo Canada, we hold an Annual Costume Challenge where we pick a theme and encourage people to make a costume based on the theme. A couple of years ago, the theme was ‘steampunk video game characters’ and one of my friends in the TSS, Modern Myths Cosplay, thought it would be cute to do Princess Peach and Princess Daisy.

I loved the idea and, after more discussion, we decided to do a steampunk twist on the Super Smash Bros Brawl version since it was fancier and seemed to lend itself well to a steampunk interpretation. Though Daisy isn’t officially in Brawl, my friend was fortunately able to dig up some fan edits of Peach in Daisy’s colours, so with that we were set.

I usually make my outfits myself, but since my friend and I wanted to ensure our cosplays matched, we decided to work collaboratively and divide things: I would create the bodices and accessories for both gowns, and she would create the skirts and crinolines.

I started off by drafting the base bodice patterns. Since I draft all my costumes, I used my existing bodice block/master patterns for myself and drafted a bodice block from scratch for my friend based on her measurements. One neat thing about working this way was that it basically turned into a girls’ weekend where I was able to teach my friend more about pattern drafting, which ended up making the process unexpectedly fun and memorable.

After I finished fitting my friend’s bodice block, I got to work drafting our bodice patterns based on the reference pics we had collected. Being able to tackle both bodices ended up working well since it enabled me to draft them in a way that made them visually match identical while taking our respective body shapes into account.

A couple of mockups and fittings later, we had an idea of how much fabric we needed, so we went fabric shopping. My friend suggested that we go with richer, more regal-looking tones instead of strictly game-accurate colours, so when we found a place selling gorgeous peau de soie and sparkle organza, I was instantly sold on a gold and burnt orange colour scheme.

We split the fabric based on our respective portions and worked on them separately. I cut and sewed the bodices, which was fairly straight forward but time-consuming! The part that sticks in my mind the most was the center front panel because it had so many pieces and layers - two types of satin, two types of organza (including one that had to be ruched to the base panel in multiple places), five rows of lace, interfacing...and that doesn’t even include the lining!

I also created our jewelry and crowns. The brooches and earrings were made from filigree settings that I painted, glued gems, and attached pin backs and earring hooks to, and the crowns are made from craft foam painted in gold acrylic, with embellishments assembled from painted filigree stampings and gems.

My friend created our cage skirts from 1/4 PEX pipe and brown grosgrain ribbon, which ended up being the perfect hoop skirt material since it was cheap, lightweight, and strong enough to support the huge, heavy skirts. She cut and sewed our skirts (including attaching meters and meters of trim that I’d painted white to better match the game colours) and she also made our bloomers.

The gowns were a huge undertaking and, thanks to work and general real life eating up time, we did end up engaging in the dreaded con crunch, but fortunately in the end we were able to get them to a state where they were pretty and wearable!

The response at the convention was absolutely amazing - I don’t think I’ve ever had a costume elicit the reactions that Princess Daisy did. We figured that, since we were cosplaying the princesses from Mario, there was a good chance we might be recognized, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was how genuinely happy and excited people were, especially when they saw us together. We literally had kids waving at us from across the street when they spotted us.

Even grown-ups loved it - we were frequently stopped for pictures, and even a couple of the folks in the dealer’s room who were running booths would break into huge smiles and ask for pictures. Plus, people loved the steampunk twist and were delighted when they realized how much our costumes matched.

The best, most heartwarming response to my Princess Daisy cosplay happened when I met up with some other friends and one tapped me on the shoulder, pointed behind me and said, “I think she wants a picture with the princess.” I turned around and, standing a few feet away, was this adorable, super shy little black girl who was staring in my direction. My heart instantly melted and I went over to her and had a little chat and took a picture with her.

As a black cosplayer who has run several panels on BIPOC cosplay and spoken about the importance of diversity and representation in cosplay, being able to show that sweet little girl that someone who looks like her can be a princess - and showing kids of other races that Princess Daisy can be black - was a vivid reminder that representation does matter.

Since I got into the hobby, cosplay has been a big part of my life and has positively impacted me in so many ways. It has been an incredible creative outlet that has given me the chance to express myself, and it has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people - many of whom are now among my closest friends. However, I think one of the most rewarding things about cosplay has been how it has allowed me to provide BIPOC cosplay representation and visibility within my local cosplay community. I often do Afro-steampunk cosplay, and one of the most unexpectedly moving things I’ve experienced has been other BIPOC saying to me that seeing my outfits make them feel like they can cosplay.

It has been humbling and has motivated me to get more involved in the cons I attend. For the past several years I’ve run panels on diversity in cosplay/steampunk as well as sewing and cosplay construction, which has enabled me to share the knowledge and skills I’ve learned. I also lead the steampunk section of the Anime North Fashion Show, and I’ve made a point to recruit as diverse a roster of models as possible. I’m happy that we’ve been able to showcase steampunk looks inspired by various cultures including Chinese, Indian, and Morrocan.

Another plus is that the sewing skills I’ve learned from cosplay have come in handy in other areas of my life. It has been fun - and surprisingly empowering - to be at a point where I can use my sewing ability to create one-of-a-kind outfits for formal work events (like office holiday parties) that make me feel pretty and confident.

Something I’ve frequently mentioned during my BIPOC cosplay/steampunk panels is that the simple act of showing up to a con or event in cosplay can have an impact because you never know how much that visibility can inspire other BIPOC to get into the hobby, so my advice to anyone wanting to get into cosplay is to do it! Overall I have found it to be a fun, creative, energizing experience.

While I’ve been extremely fortunate to have had overwhelmingly positive experiences while cosplaying, I recognize that, unfortunately, BIPOC do sometimes face harassment and outright racist comments (especially online) that can make getting into the hobby seem scary. Finding welcoming, supportive spaces in person and online can be a big help (the POC Cosplay group on Facebook is great for this) - plus, thanks to things like #28DaysOfBlackCosplay, there is more visibility and inspiration out there than ever before.

The other thing I’d add is to treat each cosplay as a learning experience. Being able to work so closely with my friend on creating a cosplay was a completely different creation process than I’m used to, and it was really cool to be able to learn from each other’s different working styles and experience. It was great to teach her pattern drafting and see how happy she was to learn skills she could apply to future cosplays, and I was so excited when she showed me her PEX pipe hoop skirt method. Looking back on my Princess Daisy cosplay makes me smile because it’s almost like a physical representation of the fun we have cosplaying together.

[youarejesting]

The Bomb

[Masterlist]

Beta: @juniethebug​ Rating: 16+  Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Mafia, enemies2lovers.  Trigger Warnings: mentions of Violence, Gore, Torture, Drinking and wetting yourself in public from fear and a full bladder during a gun fight. Character death. Words: 9.4k

Summary: The leader of a mafia should be calm collected and poised. He should live meticulously and know what he needs to do. Namjoon was that man, he had rules that kept his business running smoothly and nothing can get in the way of that. Can it?

[Part 2]

Kim Namjoon, the leader of the biggest mafia in Seoul, lived his life by many rules. His first rule, a man should only cry three times in his life. The first time is when a man loses his mother, the one who raises a man to be who they are worth mourning. 

The second when a man marries the love of his life and he shall weep tears of joy. The third and final time a man is allowed to cry is when he sees his first child born.

Pathetically sobbing against the dirty concrete while getting the life beaten out of you is not one of those three incidences. “I will ask you again, where is the payment I was promised?”

“He gave it to his daughter, used the money he was supposed to pay you, on his daughter; a beautiful emerald necklace. Something about it being her birthday and wanting to gift her with something as pretty as she is.” Yoongi scoffed, spinning the knife around his fingers a habit he had developed to keep his dexterous fingers busy.“Or at least that is what Hobi had to say after tailing the man all day. Just take the necklace from her pretty little neck; she doesn’t have to come with it.”

“The birthday party is tonight, a lavish affair for their daughter, every man, woman, and child from rich backgrounds were invited to the ball held at their Manor.” Jimin sighed, rolling some scotch in his glass.

“Be ready to leave in ten minutes.” Namjoon walked to the door, Jungkook opening it for him. A reminder of rule number fourteen; a powerful man never moves unnecessarily, which includes opening doors and stepping aside from someone.

Pulling on a black on black suit he fastened his Platinum Rolex to his wrist, in his classiest polished pair of dress shoes. Walking towards the front door, he stopped by the front door and Yoongi pulled open the suitcase, graced with the sight of two pistols both with a shiny custom nickel finish with gold filigree on the handle and barrel.

These were gifted to him by Taehyung, a man with an eye for the finest of arts. Just like the weapons he provided he was a beautiful young man with an innocent face. But he was a dangerous man and rule number ten. Never give the man who provides you with your weapons the chance to provide them for anyone else. Of course, naturally, that meant Namjoon hired him in an instant, not willing to let his enemies use his weapons dealer.

The boys were heading to the car; Seokjin was going to drive as he was the most sensible behind the wheel. Each piling in Namjoon looked at his watch and over the five individuals in the car.

“Should I tell Jimin to hurry up?” Taehyung said reaching for his phone, he was in the middle of texting when Namjoon placed his hand on the phone pushing it to his lap. 

“No need we leave without him, he knows the rules-”

“Rule number fifteen, a man is never late,” Jungkook nodded; he lived by Namjoon’s word and his rules. Knew them better than Namjoon did himself, wrote them down, and numbered them as the leader taught him each one.

The car door was shut by Seokjin who situated himself into the driver's seat and pulled away from the house. House may be a bit of an understatement even Namjoon thought so, officially titled the Kim Manor with four stories complete with east and west wings, staff quarters, elaborate gardens, and land. 

It was the picturesque home with lavish rooms headed to the front gates, a motorbike raced past and pulled up. Jimin climbed into the car with the others, grumbling about how the wind destroyed his hair. 

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to return it to its former perfection, once the gates spread open they headed on their way to the party. 

Each stepping out at the foot of the manor, fixing their hair and suits one last time before heading up the steps. “Your invitation, sir?”

Yoongi pulled out a gun and tapped it against the clipboard pushing it down so he could read it. “That's us there unchecked, sorry we are late, traffic is horrible at this time of the day,” the man swallowed thickly. 

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Le pomme, you don’t look French?”

“It’s Ms. Actually,” Yoongi poked the man's chest with his gun. 

Namjoon turned speaking immaculate French to the young man and patted his shoulder. “Jungkook always learns a language, a man should never miss an opportunity to learn new things.”

Jungkook was writing the new rule down following behind them, Yoongi pushed the gun into his waistband and the group entered the manor. Walking the floor as a small unit they began analyzing the ballroom. 

Jimin had disappeared and Jungkook smiled gesturing to the young woman who was mingling a beautiful emerald necklace delicately nestled against her decolletage. Namjoon looked her over. She was stunning with her smooth skin and gentle curls. 

She was nothing like he expected, Namjoon thought she would have a dark tan and bleach blonde hair, with extensions and the latest trending nails and jewelry and shoes. 

But this woman. This gorgeous woman had pale skin with sun-kissed freckles, her lips were a soft velvety crimson. She wore a simple black dress but somehow managed to still be the most beautiful person in the room. He could gaze at her forever and never get tired.

You smiled feeling proud of your outfit, it was such an elegant and complicated piece, a sweetheart bodice with off the shoulder lace straps it was a thin and long dress that fell to your ankles showing off a pair of thin heels. 

It wasn’t a famous brand designer, no, you made this yourself there were many little fun hidden details. You were speaking with your friends when he approached. 

He was handsome, his profile was strong one you would remember easily he had a small scar on his eyebrow but it added so much character to his image. 

“Ladies,” he greeted the small group with a short bow, his eyes flicking up and meeting yours full of confidence and you gave a small friendly smile back. 

“Shall we dance?” He asked, and you, never to be overdone, agreed. You had never been asked to dance before. Especially not by someone this handsome.

“My name is y/n. You?”

“You may call me Namjoon,” he smiled and you blushed, looking at his dimples, he was so charming and cute. But there was something about him he took the lead and guided you through a slow waltz. Something you couldn’t put a nail on. Something… sinister..?

You gasped clutching his bicep gently. He saw the emerald necklace secure around your delicate neck. Your breasts strained against your dress with every breath. 

“You seem to be out of breath miss y/n?” His fingertips brushing gently across your décolletage. He too was breathing heavily from the physical activity of dancing. 

“A testament to your dance skills,” you tried to laugh back. 

“Perhaps we should get something to drink,” he took your hand and weaved it so your arm wrapped around his, “we can chat while you relax but I do apologize for being too enthusiastic.” 

“No, really, it is okay,” you protested, not wanting to seem too affected honestly it was embarrassing to get tired after one vigorous dance. 

“Indulge me,” Namjoon’s raspy voice reverberated so low you could have almost mistaken it for a purr, “I would very much like to steal a few extra moments with you” 

“Well then, I shan’t protest,” you gestured towards the refreshment table where he handed you a champagne flute. The two of you drank slowly his eyes locked on yours. 

“Sir,” a voice called politely, you were both pulled from your intense eye contact to see Your father flanked by two young and very handsome men. 

“Thank you for inviting me to your party tonight, sir.” Namjoon shook his hand firmly, his voice made you shiver, it wasn’t as light as it had been before, there was something clipped in his tone. Your former suspicions returned to you. Hard.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am glad you could make it, I didn’t think you would come to such a small affair?” Your father smiled, he was sweating a sign he was nervous but trying to hold his cool. 

“Dad is everything okay?” You took your father's pocket-handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. 

“Darling I would like for you to get some pictures with your mother. It is your birthday after all,” you looked at him curiously and almost yielded to his request when a firm hand caught your wrist. 

“Just a moment I would like to give you your birthday gift,” Namjoon smiled reaching into his pocket, his next statement seemed to cause the young man beside your father to scribble in a notebook. “A man must never come to a party empty-handed, especially not a birthday party.”

“Oh it’s okay, I don’t usually get presents anyway,” you were flustered by the prospect you always requested not to get presents to spare people the trouble of spending their money on material things. 

“That is a shame a pretty young lady like yourself should be spoiled daily,” a hot flush pinked your skin and it crept up your neck. 

He handed you a box wrapped in a small ribbon. She opened it to reveal an emerald bracelet just like the necklace she wore and he helped secure it to the wrist and smiled. 

“Emerald looks brilliant on you?”

Namjoon looked your father directly in the eyes watching the man sweat. Would he sell out his own daughter for his own safety? “Well darling, mister Kim and I are just going to do a quick spot of business”

“Okay,” you nodded, Namjoon looked over his shoulder and made a gesture to Jungkook and Yoongi to keep an eye on you. While following your weasel-like father to his study.

“I know why you are here and I am sorry, I had the money ready to give you but it was my daughter’s birthday and I couldn’t turn up empty-handed,” Your father said “I will get you the money by the end of the week.”

“You will as I will have collateral just in case your daughter will leave with me.” Namjoon threatened before adding an afterthought “tonight”.

“Please don’t hurt her, I will get you the money, I promise. Please.” He pleaded, dropping onto his knees. Namjoon felt his eye twitch in disgust. 

“You will give me the money, otherwise you will never see your daughter again.” 

You were feeling kind of awkward, the two young men accompanying you weren’t awful company, they just weren’t very talkative. 

“So you work with Namjoon?” you asked 

“Mmm…” one so graciously grunted in response

“What do you do?” you swayed from foot to foot trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Mister Kim is an entrepreneur,” The taller man said excitedly. You nodded; he very obviously liked his boss.

“You seem to enjoy working for him then,” You asked happily and the two nodded going back to standing around.

“Ah, you must be the birthday girl?” A sweet voice called your attention, “Wah, You are so beautiful miss y/n?”

“Have we met?” Already knowing you hadn’t met any of these men they were way too handsome for you to just forget. He had long legs accentuated by his high waisted trousers, his feet moved one in front of the other with all the grace and caution like a model in a field of landmines. He scooped your hand into his grasp and kissed your knuckle’s eyes searching your person and the room. “Park Jimin.”

Beside him was a taller young man who was boyish with big rounded ears that added so much youth to his face. “I do not believe we have ma’am and that is a shame” He also kissed your knuckles politely and threw you a grin. “Kim Taehyung at your service.”

“Tell me, miss Y/n. Do you like Painting?” Taehyung asked with a grin and you nodded 

“Though I am not good at it, yes.” You sighed while playing with your lace sleeve, you were currently surrounded by these very tall and intimidating men. “Do you like painting?”

“I enjoy it greatly my dear, would you be interested in painting with me?” He smiled brightly and you grinned feeling more relaxed.

“I would love to,” you grinned and they all got a text to their apple watches that they read and quickly dismissed from view.

“Miss y/n, we would like to hold a toast,” Jimin grinned, handing you a champagne flute. You nodded and Jimin led a toast celebrating your birthday, ending his short speech with. “You have to all drink it in one shot for the best of wishes for the birthday girl” 

You drank heartedly watching them all drink as well, the conversation continued and you were happily chatting about all different things when you started to feel rather drowsy. “I think I drank too much.” You giggled, feeling tired, a warm coat was draped over your shoulders it was super roomy and you felt yourself drift off.

There were strange sounds and lights passing over you periodically, though it stirred you it wasn’t enough to wake you fully. Only when your body had fought the immense fatigue did you wake. 

Everything was stale, the air, the room, life, for a moment you didn’t move. Your body was heavy and your head clouded. Taking a deep breath you sat up the lush blankets in their covers making noise against the soft satin sheet. 

The room wasn’t yours, the furniture was all a dark almost black lacquered wood, the bedding was also all black. It was a dark room with thick heavy curtains. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you gripped the fourposter frame and stood upright nursing a slight ache behind your temples. 

The floor was a white marble, searingly cold against your feet. You looked down at the sweet emerald négligée, your jewellery was placed on the bedside table. 

Where you saw a glass of water, taking the glass you took a few sips quenching your thirst and pushing the bile rising in your throat back down. 

Crossing the room, trying to find a bathroom you opened the first set of double doors and found a walk-in wardrobe. There were many suits inside and a door caught your eye, perhaps it led to the bathroom. 

Opening the door you saw for the first time in your life real guns and weapons on display, wherever you are it mustn’t be safe. You picked up a small handgun like the ones you had seen in movies. 

You moved on to the bathroom, your bladder was urgently requesting relief. 

Opening the next doors you came across a bathroom like no other. It was all the same white marble, the feature was a round shower located in the middle of the room. With two curved sliding doors one on either side of the shower. 

Between curved glass panels were stone pillars one which had been carved into as to create shelves with built-in product dispensers. 

You saw a control panel on the outside of the shower and you wondered where the water came from but looking up at the hanging gold shower head that was almost as wide as the shower. 

You could imagine how it would feel, like warm rain falling against your skin. On your right as you stepped in was a beautiful counter with his and her basins in front of a finely detailed gold framed mirror. 

On the opposite wall to your left were shelves of fresh towels and a few cabinets and a seated area with a lady might do her makeup

Walking around the shower along the walls of towels you saw the toilet the door was made of frosted glass and you at this point didn’t care if you were quick you wouldn’t be seen. 

You flushed and paused waiting for any signs of people coming to get you but you heard nothing. 

You stepped out and circled the shower the back wall had a brilliant window and four short steps to a lifted square seating area with a cushioned window seat that lined the three of the square walls. 

There was a small coffee table in the middle and continuing on the last corner of the room just between the sitting areas and the counter was a square bath fit for perhaps four people. 

“Shit, where is she?” The sound made your pulse skyrocket, you needed to hide. You stood behind one of the big thick pillars on the outside of the shower. Hoping they would glance over the room. 

You froze the gun behind your back and you waited. “Is she in here?” A voice said, “doesn’t look like it,” another said

“Where is she?” A raspy voice spoke. 

“We don’t know, sir, Yoongi was posted outside and swears she didn’t leave so she has to be in here.” 

“Y/n?” He called, “are you okay, you are a guest here I promise.”

You snorted, “that’s funny, I don’t remember being invited.” 

“You don’t remember what happened last night do you?” He asked and you saw movement in the mirror. You grabbed the shower door and opened it stepping inside and pressing your back against a pillar. 

The problem was opening one door opened both, you used your free hand to reach beside you and slowly close the glass door. 

He smirked, grabbing the opposite glass door with his hand, stopping it from closing and pulling the door back open. “You won’t shoot me, baby, you are too gentle, hand it over and we can talk.”

You took a few heavy breaths psyching yourself up before pulling the trigger. Eyes squeezed shut only to hear a click, “shit!”

“You got some guts, I will give you that. I am proud, the weak don’t survive” He grinned, reaching outside the shower to the control panel and grinned “but you didn’t put a magazine in your gun, I could show you how?” 

He pressed a button and cold water poured down, jolting you awake. You tried to avoid the water but you were soaked, he stepped inside and shut the door with his men standing guard either side. 

“When you shoot a gun don’t close your eyes, baby otherwise how will you aim?” His chest pressed against yours and he grinned, taking your hand. “Now let’s get you dressed, and we can have a late breakfast.”

You struggled to pull your hand free, “why am I here?”

“Because your father borrowed five hundred thousand dollars from me and didn’t pay it back in time,” he gently tucked your wet hair behind your ear frowning at how it stuck to your neck, how the small négligée clung to your skin and how your body reacted to the cold. “So I took you as collateral for my money. How very gentlemanly of you.”

He took the gun from your hand and grinned, “you are spirited and I like that, but do not worry my only intentions are my money no harm will come to you, you are actually really interesting I would like to get to know you more.”

“Come let’s have breakfast baby,” he said over his shoulder

You followed him obediently your goal was to play your way out, cooperation until they let their guard down. Stepping out of the Taehyung standing there with a grin, and he held up a bag, “Hoseok and I bought you clothes?”

You nodded while taking the bag pondering a recurring thought, “who changed me last night?”

“I did, love but do not fret, I am a doctor and I assure you I did nothing inappropriate, while you were asleep. I would never, it’s too much work?” the short black-haired man spoke twirling a knife around his fingers. 

“Seriously, I don’t think Yoongi is human, we have taken him to so many brothels and he doesn’t get turned on at all,” you made eye contact with Yoongi who looked away causing you to crease your eyebrows. 

“I respect women and their professions?” Yoongi sighed, and you nodded thoughtfully walking into the bathroom and staring in the mirror. Eventually getting out of the wet garment and into a beautiful sundress. 

Processing your thoughts meticulously. He said you were here until your father paid his debt. He said he wouldn’t harm you. You had many unanswered questions but you felt a little reassured by these factors. You were still scared out of your wits but 

When you stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed you felt much better. The room was empty except Yoongi and you sighed looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything.” 

“I believe you, do not stress,” you patted his shoulder and with a deep breath in, you puffed up your chest, square your shoulders, and strode forward to the door with a firm nod. Yoongi navigated you through the halls behind you trying to keep up but you didn’t slow down. 

“Through to the end room two double doors,” he panted as you lost him down the hall, throwing the doors open, guns were drawn and all your new found confidence dwindled. 

“Ah, my apologies we usually knock.” Namjoon smiled holding his hands out to his men to stand down, “it’s polite.”

“Is kidnapping me polite?” You scoffed stomping towards him. “You said I am here till my father pays his debt and then I am free to leave correct?”

“Yes, that is—”

“So am I a prisoner?”

“You are a guest,” he said.

“So I can leave?”

“No.”

“Do you happen to know the definition of prisoner?”

“I believe you are referring to the noun of a person captured and kept confined by an enemy or criminal” he sighed “listen would you like to see a real prisoner? I can guarantee you are treated better than some of our other guests in this house”

Taken back by his words you looked away and sighed slumping into the empty seat at the other end of the table “who are you really?”

“I am Kim Namjoon, also known as RM,” he looked down the table at you. You were silent while eating, pondering this information biding your time before you could ask some more. 

“Now for business?” Namjoon gestured for his men to start talking. 

“Uh about mister Lee, I have successfully um… spoken?” The word came out as more of a question as Seokjin side-eyed you, “with him and he told me where we can find the um...”

“Hey, whatever it is you can say it, I’m not going to be scared by mere words.” You scoffed, stabbing a piece of cantaloupe. Namjoon nodded, approving Seokjin to talk freely.

“I interrogated him and we found the children he was trafficking returned them to their families,” Seokjin said “He is seriously sick in the head” 

“You are sure he has told you everything?” Namjoon ate his eggs and toast watching them over his cup of coffee. 

“I think so but to make sure I might cut off his remaining fingers and see what he has to say,” Seokjin nodded, “if he says no more well then I guess he is finished.”

“Hoseok what do you know?” Namjoon prompted the next man to speak.

“I know that Mr. y/l/n is accumulating stocks and seems to be on the way to paying his debt,” Hoseok said, your head snapped to him at the mention of your father and he cleared his throat with an awkward twitch of his head. “In other news, there is a young man named David from America is here to discuss a transaction on weapons”

“Anything else?” Namjoon pressed on, studying the man's reactions.

“A few minor gossip aspects from last nights party” you blinked turning to Hoseok who continued, “nothing serious but I will file it away for possible use in the future”

“I took out Mr Roth last night at the party.” Jimin threw the paper down and Namjoon picked it up. “Easily fooled as always.”

“Was there any complications?” Namjoon asked placing the paper down on the table and you walked around picking it up standing beside Namjoon as you read the information on the front page. 

Mob Merrymaking

On the evening of the 13th of July, Y/N was celebrating her 21st Birthday. The night was full of dancing, gifts and esteemed guests. The night which was intended to be a beautiful celebration turned sour when a Local Gang drugged and abducted the young woman. Mr Roth a nobleman of 45 had been found in the bathroom, his death was determined as substance abuse.

Mr. L/n stated “She will be fine wherever she is, she is a smart girl and too pure to get herself hurt” He further implied “...I also have no ill will towards any gangs that would warrant my daughter being taken or our family getting hurt. She is a beautiful woman and I think he must have taken a liking to her which leaves me to believe he won’t hurt her.”

Kim Industries which deals with Construction, real estate, property investments, restaurants bars and even Casinos are implied to be the gang in question. Kim Namjoon, as the owner of Kim Industries, was happy to oblige to the police investigation allowing his home to be thoroughly searched by police for the missing young woman. The residence came up empty of any incriminating evidence.

Where did the young woman go? Who is she with? If you have any information contact the police.

You were told to wait in the house while they all went to meet this American man named David, you refused saying if they left you alone you would either run away or set the place on fire. 

Namjoon grabbed you by the upper arm, “You are a young lady, start acting like one, we have treated you well and you have done nothing but act like a spoilt child.”

You had never been reprimanded so directly and harshly before, you were somewhat sheltered and sensitive to anger. You turned your head away from him as a few tears slipped.

“Sir, would you like me to stay behind with her?” Jungkook asked, watching his leader take out a pocket-handkerchief and take the young woman's chin firmly between his thumb and crooked finger tilting it up.

“She will come along, she must learn the severity of one's actions and the business we dabble in, to know the true weight of her actions,” He sighed, wiping your eyes. “Always carry a handkerchief Jungkook, women cry.”

“Of course! This way Miss,” Jungkook smiled softly, taking out his notebook to write the newest rule as he walked, “Namjoon is never late for a meeting.”

Escorted to the car as they all checked their weapons discussing their plan of attack, the trip took longer than you expected and at least an hour and a half had passed. The large juice you had at breakfast was making itself known. 

“Uh, I have to pee?” You whispered to Yoongi who frowned patting your knee in consolidation. 

“Namjoon doesn’t stop for anyone,” he sighed, “You will have to hold it,”

“What is it?” Namjoon commanded, not liking the whispering you were doing with his doctor.

“Y/n said she has to pee,” Yoongi said, “and I told her she will have to hold it.”

Namjoon nodded unphased “You should have gone before we left. Always pee before leaving the house.”

“I am not a child,” You hissed “I know when I need to pee and when I don’t, I wasn’t told the duration of this trip, to know whether I should go to the bathroom, and if I remember correctly I was ushered to the car before I had a chance to question it.”

“Keep your emotions out of your argument, you really are starting to sound like a child,” Namjoon said turning back to the conversation, there was nothing you could do.

The car pulled up, at a small furniture store, the men walked in lead by Namjoon and you were to stay outside with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

It was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, but you really had to go to the toilet. The two men were leaning on the back of the car, Yoongi smoking slowly and Seokjin complaining that it was bad for his looks to be near smoke. 

“Then fuck off,” Yoongi growled blowing large wisps of smoke purposefully at the other. The two bickered like a father of three and his bratty child. 

You really needed to go, to the point that you were eyeing a couple of bushes and hedges in the area. You, a high-class lady were contemplating urinating in public, that’s how serious this was. 

You looked at the two bickering again, Yoongi smirked, blowing more smoke at Seokjin who started coughing open-mouthed at Yoongi not bothering to cover his mouth. 

“You're nasty!” Yoongi grumbled, you rolled your eyes and snuck into the shop, there had to be an employee bathroom. 

You found a door but when you opened it you were met with men and guns, you immediately froze, all the muscles in your body tensing up.“Darling come here,” Namjoon said, gesturing you over to his side, and slipping you under his arm. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait by the car?”

“I have to pee,” you whimpered.

“Calm your expression,” he held your cheek and brought your eyes to his, “by my side, you don’t need to be scared, no one can hurt you?”

“That’s right darling we are just having a discussion, do you want to wait outside again we don’t want anything to happen to a pretty girl like you?”

You don’t know who said what but shots we fired and Namjoon pushed you across the room behind some big cabinets. When your back hit the tall boy you felt your bladder relax and you looked down warmth spreading down the inseams of your jeans. 

You were shaking in fear as the shots rang around the room, some hitting the furniture near where you hid. But worse than all that you were embarrassed and shocked never in your teen and adult life had you ever wet yourself. 

You stood sobbing, standing in a puddle of your own liquids. You took off your sneakers throwing them aside and you looked at your clothes. 

“Namjoon, we can’t find Miss Y/n?” Seokjin shouted ducking bullets, and brandishing his own gun. The distraction allowed their enemy to escape. 

“She is here you idiots, I asked you to do one job and you couldn’t even do that?” Namjoon said “Jimin, good shooting, David won’t make it home”

“That’s my job,” Jimin said proudly and you had to pluck up the courage to talk to them, but it was easier to hide climbing into a cupboard. 

“Miss Y/n, are you hurt?” Yoongi asked “huh?”

“What is it?” Namjoon said 

“Oh no darling, I am so sorry?” Yoongi’s voice was solemn. 

“If she is dead I am killing you both,” Namjoon growled his boots hitting the cement as he stomped over. 

“Stay there,” Yoongi said with authority, the footsteps stopped “Jimin take off your pants?”

“What why?” Jimin asked confused as to why the conversation shifted to him and his trousers. 

“Just do it?” Yoongi growled snapping his fingers. 

“None of you will step foot over here until I say so, if you do I will happily sedate you all and turn you into eunuchs, and that includes you Namjoon.”

“I am your leader?”

“And I am your elder, go wait outside, all of you?” They all stepped outside and Yoongi sighed walking to the cupboard holding Jimin’s trousers. 

“Come here darling,” he said, taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom he told you to strip everything off except your bra. you sobbed. “Don’t worry I got more enjoyment out of seeing Jimin undress than redressing you last night, if you understand what I am saying.”

You realized and wiped your eyes, he pushed you to sit on the bench and he washed your legs in the sink and asked you to wash everything else yourself. 

You felt better, he apologized for not having any underwear for you and you slipped on Jimin's pants and fastened the belt. The last thing you would need is to expose everything and Yoongi gave you his undershirt. 

He walked you out and Namjoon looked relieved when he saw you emerge. “Are you okay?”

“No I am horrified, I was in the middle of a shoot out and I quite literally pissed myself,” you shouted. Your eyes stung from the crying you had done, “Never in my coherent life have I disgraced myself like that.”

“I apologize,” he said, holding his shoulder you saw blood seeping through his fingers, you immediately felt bad for yelling and making it about you when he was in pain.

Jimin stood in just his boxer briefs. “I have nothing against the no-pants but can we go home?”

The only rational thing to do after the incident at the furniture store and warehouse was to seclude yourself in your room away from everyone else. Namjoon often visited and brought you your meals talking to you about things with no real substance. Mostly about his loathing of check ups, it seemed he was hiding in your room from Yoongi.

This happened for a number of days until Hoseok got bored, he wanted to gossip with you and Taehyung came along with paints in hand. His excuse was that you had promised him you two could paint together. 

Forcibly removed from your one-person pity party you sat outside painting and chatting about random topics. 

Hoseok wanted to know if you had any suitors and who they were, he asked what type of guy you liked and you hummed. 

“Someone kind and generous who gives back to others” you gushed about your tall dark and handsome and they laughed.

That night Namjoon knocked on your door and requested you come down for dinner, you agreed much to his surprise. He stammered obviously not expecting you to consent to his plan for dinner, he nodded curtly and walked off down the hall. Tripping in his haste on a small lump in the hall carpet and catching himself on the wall.

Wearing a pretty emerald green halter dress the skirts swished as you walked and your modest heels clicked on the timber. You heard hushed talking and slowed down, being so confined the past few days you were almost starved for conversation. 

“He is having dinner tonight, they will all be in the dining hall which will leave his office free, once I get the information I will get out of here before they find out.” The man had a weird moustache and a mole above his eyebrow. 

You tiptoed past holding your skirts from ruffling and keeping your heels from clicking you headed downstairs. 

Pushing open the doors a multitude of guns were pointed at you, “Miss Y/n I was told you were from a moderately high-class family you should know how to knock.”

You raced over to Namjoon and cupped your hand around your mouth leaning down. “I heard someone talking about breaking into your office, to steal information”

“Jimin” Namjoon beckoned him over, he whispered to Jimin who nodded and went out the back door. 

“Where is he going?” You asked and Namjoon stood up and walked you to the other end of the table and you frowned, “I don’t like this?”

“Sit relax, it is time for us to enjoy dinner.”

You sat for the briefest of moments watching Namjoon cross the room and sit at the opposite end of the table before taking your chair and dragging it across the floor slowly. 

You saw his eyebrow twitch as you did so and stopped beside him. “I would prefer not to shout across the table,” you smiled softly

“You are both a blessing and a curse,” Namjoon said, “dinner is now a minute late”

Dinner was unlike anything you had ever had before, you smiled and ate happily, “this is delicious”

“You should try the steak?” Namjoon smiled, you nodded, cutting some of your chicken and stabbed it with a fork. 

“Alright, I will try some of your steak if you try some of this chicken?” You held it out to him and his eyes were wide “it’s a fair trade”

He leaned forward and ate the small piece off your fork and he cut you a piece of steak and held it out to you. 

You leaned forward and took a bite chewing slowly, your eyes going wide. “That is delicious”

Namjoon leaned over wiping your chin with a napkin his thumb, your eyes were locked in a fierce gaze and he gave you a dimpled smile.

“Jin, try some of my chicken?” Taehyung asked, holding out his fork. 

“No, thank you?” Seokjin said, continuing to eat his steak ignoring the pouting young man. 

“But they shared?” He whined. This made you aware of how intimate your action was, your cheeks flushing dark at your forwardness.

After dinner you were being escorted back to your room. Namjoon was quiet the whole time, not for lack of trying. The amount of times you saw him open and close his mouth, as if he was trying to strike up something to say. 

Standing at your door he paused looking at you searching for something, you laughed opening the door, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” 

He seemed grateful for the excuse to stay in your company, after a drink of two you started talking about your most embarrassing stories. He was actually super clumsy for someone in the mafia and a complete goofball.

“And that was my first kiss, I haven’t really had many kisses after that and the few I can remember were just as bad” Your laughter was cut off by Namjoon who had leaned over on the small couch and pressed his lips to yours. Just as you felt your heart flutter he pulled away.

“It is getting late you should sleep” He stood up and placed down the glass, you walked him to the door and he froze. “Was that okay? I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries, did I?”

“No it was nice really nice, you can do that-” He pressed his lips to yours once more and smiled whispering good night before walking off down the hall. With a sigh you added “Anytime you like.”

You didn’t hear anything strange from anyone or see anyone but you hoped everything worked out and the man who wanted to steal information ran away. 

You were trying to find Namjoon the next day and travelled downstairs looking in random doors. 

You reached the end of the hallway and found a door you heard screaming and knocked hesitantly on the wood, Yoongi stepped out covered in blood and gun in hand. 

“Oh, y/n now isn’t a good time?” Yoongi said, stepping out and shutting the door. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was looking for Namjoon, is everything okay? What are you doing?” You asked, concerned by the amount of blood on Yoongi’s clothes. 

“We are okay, Seokjin and I are just interrogating the mole, hey good spotting by the way no one knew they had snuck in,” your stomach dropped, this blood was from that man and it was all because of you. 

“Namjoon is in his office on the third floor from the ground west wing double doors on the left-right at the end of the corridor.”

You nodded, froze in place and Yoongi sighed “I have to go back in,” he went to pat your shoulder but saw his stained gloves and sighed ripping them off. 

He turned punching in numbers into the code lock. 7276. He slipped inside and you heard screaming, which was silenced immediately as the door sealed shut, you quickly ran feeling sick.

Racing up the stairs and bumping into Jungkook and almost falling, thankfully  he caught you, “hey hey, slow down what’s wrong?”

You were wide-eyed and scared and he frowned. “Did you go downstairs?”

You nodded and he led you down the hall, “you are scared and helpless, but the way to feel better is to get stronger. You won’t feel as scared if you're not so helpless.” Jungkook opened the doors to the gym. 

“Let me teach you how to fight,” Jungkook began teaching the basics and at another point, Jimin entered the two gave you pointers, their fighting styles. Jungkook was all power and strength and Jimin’s was survival. 

“Look all you got to know is how to break free so you can run away,” Jimin instructed. “Even someone like Yoongi can break out of Jungkook's grasp.” 

“That was one time and he refused to give me a rematch,” Jungkook wined. 

You were learning so much, and it was in a sense a little empowering. The two guys were good at what they did and the more you learnt the more you wanted to learn. 

Learning to fight gave you something to take your mind off what you had seen at least for the first two weeks but when you heard them relay information at breakfast you felt sick once more. 

“He refuses to speak,” Seokjin said 

“He will eventually,” Namjoon didn’t bat an eyelash. Two weeks of torture because you outed him. 

This was all your fault. He was suffering because of you. You left the dining hall unable to stomach the thought of food. 

Heading down the stairs you opened the door with the code 7276, you almost vomited, he sat there unrestrained and unconscious. His fingernails were removed and his face broken beyond repair. 

“Hello, sir are you alive?” You asked, he groaned struggling to move his head, coughing up some blood at the effort it took to move. 

“Who are you?”

“I am no one sir,” you breathed, “I can help you.”

He lunged hands gripping your throat and you fell back under the weight of him, you were struggling against him in panic. “Die you bitch, I know who you are, you're that monster's whore. He has never tried to protect anyone in his life and yet his soft spot is you. They are coming to kill you all.”

You struggled less hearing Jimin’s words in your head, “don’t panic” his voice would smooth as he held you in this position. “You want to panic but relax and fight back”

You did what he said, “your legs are your strongest so kick them in the chest” Jungkook would coach from the side, following their instructions you kicked the man off and ducked out the door pulling it closed. 

You were gasping and you ran up the stairs and into the dining hall gasping. Namjoon flew to his seat and scooped you up, sitting you on the side of the table. 

“Yoongi.” He commanded, he gently brushed his fingers over your neck, he looked upset, angry and sad all at once. The emotions were so strong it shocked you. Grabbing his gun, you pressed it into Namjoon's hands. 

“Kill him,” You wheezed, “slowly.”

“You went back down there didn’t you?” Jungkook sighed and before Yoongi could stop him Namjoon cocked the gun and stormed off. Seokjin followed after him and they all watched you trying to help. 

“Your throat will sting for a few days try not to talk it will help it heal,” Yoongi sighed 

“You just don’t want to hear me talk,” you joked, wincing at the pain. “Got it, no talking.”

Namjoon threw the man into the dining hall and dragged him by his hair across the floor, “the lady has requested you die and slowly.” 

Namjoon shot him six times in both legs, one in each foot, calf and thigh, the blood was pooling everywhere. You felt queasy, you wanted this but you weren’t sure you could stomach it. 

“If you can make it back to your people with these wounds I will let you go?” Namjoon put his gun away and the man tried to crawl away, losing strength as he streaked blood across the ground. 

The man was making horrible noises and you didn’t like it, covering your ears and Yoongi warned Namjoon who shot the mole in the back of the head as he reached for the door handle. 

Again the only thing you deemed appropriate after witnessing that sort of horrific event was to seclude yourself in your room. Yoongi visited bringing you soups to soothe your sore throat and his persistence and gentle nature was the only thing that got you to drink some of it.

You laid there alone when it started to rain. You loved the rain, but what surprised you was your new fear of the thunder rumbling in the distance sinister as if it was coming after you. 

You had never been afraid of storms you used to stand out on the patio undercover with your father and watch the lights flash and feel the electricity in the air. But now each flash had shadows in your window and was accompanied by gunshots that shook the ground.

You were a whimpering mess and you wanted to get out, you ran from your room and raced down the stairs and out the front door. You were in the rain running down the long estate driveway and you expected to be followed by Namjoons henchmen and dragged back and punished for what you didn’t expect was for Namjoon to be running after you. 

He grabbed you and pulled you to his chest hugging you gently and he started to sing in your ear, his voice was low and soothing. You found yourself easing into his chest and your erratic sobbing calmed some.

Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain,

He repeated this phrase slowly singing into your ear holding you desperately and before you knew it, you passed out in his arms.

Namjoon was sweet, you woke up beside him, you were dressed in a button-up and nothing more and he was in his trousers that looked damp, he was sleeping above the blankets holding your hand as if he hadn’t intended to fall asleep beside you but to watch over you.

You brushed his hair off of his face and covered him with a blanket before heading to his closet, taking out some sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He stirred awake when you emerged from the walk-in closet. 

“Good morning,” You said softly

“You haven’t obtained any of my weapons while I was sleeping have you?” He asked, making you laugh behind your hand.

“No, someone hasn’t taught me how to use a gun properly, something about a magazine?” you said, trying to play coy. Namjoon laughed getting out of bed and taking your hand, dragging you into the closet and he began explaining all about guns and you listened he had all these amazing facts from when they were made to how they were made and how they fired and how far.

He demonstrated how to put ammunition into the magazine and the magazine into the gun. He taught you how to take the safety on and off and how to hold the gun being new so as not to accidentally shoot anyone. 

He led you to the balcony and smiled telling you to hold the gun and he corrected your stance and hold and he told you to aim at a tree and you did. 

“Now shoot?” He smiled encouragingly. You turned to him shocked, starting to protest that you weren’t ready. 

“You are just scared I promise nothing will happen?” He smiled talking you through it all again. 

He didn’t rush you and he didn’t laugh, he spoke the whole time about what you would like for breakfast. You fired a shot and bumped into Namjoon, he chuckled, “that was a good start. Did you close your eyes? Try again.”

It took a few goes and the boys busting in the room before you were comfortable with the weapon. Each had pointers and you felt empowered once more. 

“I can make you a pretty handgun,” Taehyung smiled and the group went to breakfast. 

“We have a meeting today, so dress pretty, it’s a good meeting, nothing scary, I think you will like it.” Namjoon smiled, making you nod and run off to get dressed. 

“Something Christmassy!” Taehyung shouted. 

This wasn’t what you expected when you heard mafia, usually you would think things like guns and drugs and women and violence and sure some of those things were true. 

But giving Christmas presents to an orphanage full of children wasn’t what you had in mind. You took a present and handed it out, “are you mister Kim’s wife now?”

You giggled at the children’s naive question and began thinking about what it would be like if you really were Namjoon’s wife. 

“Well, he hasn’t asked me so, no,” you laughed with the children some of the teens heard and began teasing Namjoon. 

“Why haven’t you asked her yet she is so pretty?” They said, “I would ask her.”

“Namjoon is shy, underneath the suit he is just a boy with dimples” Jimin teased earning a wad of wrapping paper at his head from the man in question. You had stepped outside into the snow watching it fall around you, Namjoon was eyeing you through the small glass window.

Excusing himself Namjoon left the children and headed out into the snowy garden, he shrugged off his jacket as he approached and slipped it over your shoulders. Clearing his throat “you shouldn’t be out here, you might catch a cold”

“Not with you here” You elbowed him playfully, he chuckled allowing you to lean against him, he didn’t tell you he was cold but dutifully stood there and kept you company.

“Thank you so much,” The woman said, as you all stepped out the front door, the boys all headed to the car and you were left beside Namjoon who had left his arm around your waist leading you to the car. “For the presents and the donation, the children and I truly appreciate it.”

“Y/n?” Namjoon said as you walked into the dining room to find it empty, the food was set and there were candles. “I wanted to speak with you privately.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” You asked curiously, what was so important that his men whom he confided everything in were not present.

“Since I met you, I have broken so many of my rules, I have been late, I have forgotten what I have wanted to say, I have spoken without purpose, I have even broken the rule to keep speeches short and sweet.” He laughed rubbing the back of the neck. “I have enjoyed your company greatly and you have made me a better man because of it. Ever since I met you, I was enraptured by your brains and beauty. You are fiery and sassy and kind and real.”

“Thank you, I haven’t done that much though.” You weren’t being modest, you hadn’t done anything special to warrant his compliments.

“I wanted to ask if you would do me the greatest honour of marrying me?” He said, “I will keep you safe, you will never go hungry or cold, I will cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“Yes,” You said in shock, you liked him of course, you had for a while now but the fact that he could get anyone and he chose you. That was what shocked you, you weren’t on the same status level. He was very high class and you were scrapping the lower end of high class.

The celebration was to be held at the grand hotel, the hall was booked and looking spectacular you were announcing your engagement. It was a real lavish affair and you were in the most expensive gown you had ever seen, feeling like a million dollars and wearing a million and a half.

It was all real, the shoes, jewelry, hotel, engagement and you couldn’t believe it. “Is this a dream?” the stylist shook her head.

You were trying to wonder where it had all come together; it was little gestures and actions. When the two of you met and he was charming and poise when dancing with you. The more you got to know him he was meticulous and sassy and strict, he didn’t miss a chance to correct and reprimand you. 

Somewhere along your journey he started to enjoy your company, he became more clumsy, and open to new ideas. He took a chance and started approaching you with his feelings and what blossomed between you was love.

“My lady, if you are ready follow us to take some photos with your fiance on the rooftop.” You were shaken out of your daydream and guided to the elevator headed for the rooftop, the two men were talking into headsets, “Everything is secure” The man said straight-faced, and the other man helped you hold the small train of your dress.

When you stepped out the men guided you across the rooftop and told you to sit in the chair while the cameraman finished setting up. You sat drinking, you only got a short way through it before you fell asleep.

Waking it was dark, you were strapped to the chair and there was something heavy and bulky on your chest. Eyes adjusting to see the glowing numbers on your chest. You started to cry, something was wrong and almost an hour went by before, you heard someone shouting your name.

“Y/N!” it was Jimin.

“Jimin!” You shouted and he raced over to the door but you heard the clanking of chains. You were locked in. 

“Wait here, I will get the others and something to get you out.” He was gone before you could tell him.

You heard more voices and Namjoon came over, you had ten minutes written on the digital clock on your chest, the numbers flickering down consistently. “Y/N?” Namjoon said, “Don’t worry, we will get you out?”

“Namjoon,” You cried from the seat, sobs breaking through your words, “There is a bomb.”

“Where is the bomb?” Namjoon said 

“It’s here,” Hot tears falling from your eyes stinging, “It’s on me, there is only nine minutes left.”

He swore, “Break this door down now, find another way in?”

They all began struggling and trying their best, but you knew it was useless. Namjoon, go, take everyone and go, there isn’t enough time?”

“No!” Namjoon growled smashing his fists on the door and throwing his shoulder into it, “I will get you out of it.”

“Namjoon, send the boys away don’t get them hurt because of me?” You whispered, “Go!”

“Leave us,” Namjoon said, his voice defeated.

“We won’t leave without you both?” Jungkook said, the timer said three minutes and you wanted to scream at them to go but the sobs took everything out of you.

“A man will follow orders to the letter Jungkook.” Namjoon said, sending the younger man away, “Get out of here.”

“Yeah rule number twenty-two, but what about number thirty-three take a challenge or thirty-nine finish what you start.”

“Jungkook, leave now before I shoot you, your orders are to get everyone out of the building, we will be down soon.”

Jungkook hesitated before running off. You called out to Namjoon begging him to leave but he refused continuing to try to break down the door blinking away the blur in your eyes from the tears you saw the time had only a minute left.

“Namjoon, there is only a minute left, please leave.” You pleaded and you could hear him on the other side of the door. 

“I am not leaving you,” He sniffed, voice watery and shaking with the sounds of his sobs. He broke the number one rule.

[Part 2]

If you enjoyed it don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

[myrandomfandomramblings]

Madarcher fanfic - In which Alice and Robin try on some of OUAT's most iconic gowns

It had been six months since the united realm was created and Alice and Robin had split their time between their two favourite things: exploring and being with the people they love. They had just returned from an adventure that took them through Arendelle and the Southern Isles to Neverland, Avalon and Treasure Island. It had been the perfect opportunity to practice the seafaring skills Nook had been teaching them and they were eager to tell him all about it and hopefully convince him to accompany them next time. Therefore, as soon as they had docked their borrowed vessel at Storybrooke marina they made their way to Alice’s Papa’s new place of work, Mr. Gold’s Pawnshop.

Nook had taken over running the shop shortly after the realms were united as a way to honour his old friend. He also viewed it as an opportunity to get to know people and be connected with the community. It didn’t hurt that organizing the store was essentially a treasure hunt, either. When the little bell above the door rang announcing the girls’ arrival Nook immediately dropped what he was doing to envelope them both in a hug. After touching on how much they missed each other. Alice quickly took hold of the conversation telling her Papa all about her and Robin’s latest adventure. When she was done Nook was beaming.

“I’m glad you ladies had such a wonderful time and were able to put my lessons to good use,” he offered, “and I’m glad your home in time for the ball, I was worried you were going to miss it.”

The ball he was referring to was being organized to celebrate the uniting of the realms. It had been scheduled for the 6-month anniversary of the united realm’s creation in order to give everybody enough time to get settled. When it was first announced Alice had been ecstatic. She had never been to a ball before and looked forward to dressing up all fancy and spending the night enjoying free food and dancing with the people she loved, but her busy adventures had pushed the ball completely out of her mind.

“I completely forgot,” Alice explained.

“Me too,” Robin added, “when is it again?”

“Tonight,” Nook answered, “In five hours, to be exact,” he added, checking his pocket watch.

“So, we have five hours to eat lunch, have showers, buy dresses, and get ready for the ball,” Robin supplied, “and if we want to stay at the ball later than 8pm, I think we’ll need to find time for a nap, because I for one am wiped.”

Alice nodded in agreement. Her face had taken on a look of disappointment as Robin talked but then lit back up.

“Well, it won’t be easy but if anyone can do it, we can. Where should we start?” she asked.

“I think I can help,” Nook offered, “There is a rack of ballgowns in the back that I just finished organizing. I’m sure you can find something suitable among them and while you do, I’ll run across the street to Granny’s and get us all something for lunch.”

“That would be great!” Robin exclaimed

“Thanks Papa,” Alice added, placing a kiss on Nook’s cheek before grabbing her fiancé’s hand and pulling her further into the store.

They found the rack of dresses Nook was referring to without problem and Alice immediately grabbed a handful of hangers and handed them to Robin.

“This will be fun,” Alice exclaimed, “I loved playing dress-up when I was wee but there was never anybody to play with in the tower,” she finished taking a handful of hangers for herself.

Robin had hung the dresses Alice had given her on a hook in one of the newly constructed changerooms.

“Some of these are ridiculous,” Robin said as she thumbed through them. “There’s no way I could wear them to the ball.”

“You can’t know that until you try them on,” Alice replied hanging her own dresses in the changing room across from Robin, “and even if you can’t wear them to the ball, that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun trying them on.”

“Fine,” Robin relented, “but I’m only doing this for you.”

Alice smiled and clapped her hands together. “You’ll enjoy it. Just wait and see,” she said before disappearing behind the curtain.

Robin closed the curtain in front of her own change room and began changing into the dress at the front of her pile. It was blue and looked more like a cupcake or a jellyfish then a ballgown.

She rolled her eyes but put it on determined to make this experience as fun as possible for Alice. Afterall, she remembered spending hours as a kid playing dress up with her friends and Alice deserved those kinds of happy memories too.

When Robin finally got the dress on and emerged from the change room Alice was already waiting for her and upon seeing each other both girls broke into fits of laughter.

Alice’s dress was black and burgundy with exquisitely bedazzled seems and the biggest and spikiest collar Robin had ever seen.

After catching her breath Alice spoke, “I like the colour,” she offered, “and these are kinda cool,” she added running her hand through the streamers hanging from Robin’s skirt.

“and I don’t hate that neckline for you,” Robin offered gesturing to the deep-V of Alice’s dress as a blush covered her cheeks, “but I think we can agree neither of these are a winner.”

Alice nodded, “Well then onto the next,” she said slipping back into her change room.

Robin followed suit. The next dress on her pile was only slightly better than the first but she changed into it excitedly, anticipating Alice’s reaction. Alice’s laugh and smile was all it had taken to energize Robin and get her into the game.

When Robin emerged, she was once again met with that magical laugh.

“Oh my gosh, we look like a bedroom set,” Robin laughed taking in Alice’s white, feathered gown.

It complemented Robin’s red and white dress with a seemingly quilted front, almost perfectly.

“Wait, I have the perfect thing to complete the set,” Alice exclaimed before disappearing back into her change room then reappearing in a large, white fur jacket with red lining.

Robin burst into laughter as Alice twirled to show off her newest accessory.

“We’d definitely be the talk of the town,” Robin offered.

“We could become mascots for Sleepy’s new mattress store,” Alice replied.

“Or we could try on more dresses,” Robin countered

“Deal,” Alice replied disappearing once again behind the changeroom curtain.

Robin was surprised and happy to find her next dress was actually quite pretty. It was shiny purple and strapless with some jewels inlayed on the bodice and a huge skirt.

Alice had once again beat Robin out of the changeroom. She stood waiting in a simple black, beaded dress that highlighted her figure.

(See Cruella's dress above - because I can only have 10 images)

“Wow,” Robin stuttered “You look good, like really good.”

Alice blushed and let out a short laugh, “Thanks, you look gorgeous.”

It was Robin’s turn to flush. “Thanks, it is beautiful, but I just don’t really think it’s me. Too purple. Too poufy. Just too princess. You know?”

Alice nodded. “I like poufy and colourful,” she replied, “this one’s kind of boring,” she added running her hands down her dress.

Robin laughed. “Fair enough. Should we try the next ones?”

Alice agreed and both girls returned to their change rooms. Robin’s next dress was not ball worthy, but she was having so much fun playing dress up with her fiancé she didn’t care. She quickly put it on and was surprised to find that she had beat Alice out of the changeroom. Alice emerged a couple minutes later in a stunning red ballgown with long sleeves.

“I think, that’s the best one yet,” Robin said, “you look beautiful.”

Alice smiled “You too,” she replied, “I like the green on you. It brings out your eyes.”

Robin laughed. “Thanks Al. I like the colour too. But there is no way I can wear this to the ball. It’s way too short.” She emphasized the ‘way’ as she pulled the dress down for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to keep it covering her butt.

“I don’t see the problem.” Alice teased giving Robin an exaggerated wink.

“It’s probably for the best,” Robin pushed on, “if we went like this we’d look like a walking Christmas display.”

Alice shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. Christmas is great. Yummy cookies, snow to play in and lots of time with loved ones. But I don’t think this is the right dress either. Still a little too plain.”

Robin nodded. “In that case, onto the next.”

Robin was down to the last dress Alice had handed her. She stepped out of the change room at the exact same time as Alice and they immediately both stopped.

“That’s the one,” they exclaimed in unison as their eyes landed on each other.

“I know,” they both replied.

Robin gestured for Alice to spin and she obliged. Her gown was shiny blue, with a big, poufy skirt and covered in decorative embellishments.

“You look wonderful,” Robin said, “that one really suits you.”

Alice was beaming. “Ya, I think it’s a winner,” she said admiring herself in the mirror. “But enough about me. Look at you. Talk about beaty and elegance.”

Robin’s dress was gold, with a skirt that was long but not too poufy and an embellished neckline with off the shoulder sleeves.

Robin smiled. “It is pretty beautiful. But the real question is can we move in them.” She offered a hand to Alice. “May I have this dance.”

“Why. Of course.” Alice answered in her poshest tone.

They started by simply swaying back and forth but as they continued to dance the moves became more and more elaborate. By the time Nook returned with the food they were spinning and dipping each other all over the store.

“Save something for the ball,” he said coming through the door.

The girls stopped dancing immediately, distracted by the delicious smell wafting from the carry-out.

“You both look beautiful,” he offered, “I might even have to give you those dresses on the house.”

Alice and Robin smiled and shared their thanks before heading back to the changerooms while Nook set up the food.

30 minutes later. They were leaving the pawnshop with full stomachs and two beautiful dresses and three hours after that they were rested, showered, dolled up and on their way to the ball to dance the night away.

[helloprettybb]

champagne dream

I know I keep saying this, but I have so many fics in the works, just very little motivation. Smut is easy and plot is cool so I’m going to combine them. Also, for the dress, look up zac posen spring 2014 red dress. 

pairing: steve rogers x reader

description: you and steve are very different people. where you are flirtatious and spontaneous, he’s uptight and patient. whenever the two of you are in a room together, tension is high, but not in the way the team thinks.

warnings: smut, unprotected (use a damn condom), cursing

word count” 4.2k

This place sucks. Steve misses the days where champagne was a luxury and owning more than one suit was rare. But here he is, stuck in Tony’s tower for the next five or six hours doing nothing but drinking alcohol, which is exponentially less fun when it doesn’t affect you, and people watching. 

He spots a man in a nice pressed suit, who looks about Steve’s physical age. Steve doesn’t know his name so he’s probably some wealthy businessman or policymaker. Judging by the pale mark around his left ring finger and slicked-back hair, the man is looking to get lucky today. Steve’s suspicions are confirmed when the man breezes past him and a cloud of cologne follows.

Steve moves his gaze to a young woman. Unlike the other guests, she’s dressed in a modest dress that looks much cheaper than everyone else’s. When she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, Steve spots a pen. He rolls his eyes when he realizes a reporter managed to sneak her way in. Her black clutch probably holds her notebook and phone.

Turning his attention away from the supposed reporter, his eyes land on you. God, you’re breathtaking. You’re effortless and graceful as you waltz from one guest to another. You lay the charm on thick with your playful eyes and dazzling smile. Everyone you meet either wants to be you or sleep with you and that makes Steve mad. The thought of you in someone else’s arms infuriates him and it takes everything in him to stay put. 

It wasn’t a relationship per se, or at least, a conventional one. It’s something more than friends, Steve knows that for sure, but he can’t pinpoint what it is exactly. While it started as sex only, it continuously felt less like a hookup and more like a deep connection. Sometimes Steve ends up in your bed without even having sex. 

“Steve.” He hears a quiet whisper come from his phone. It’s nearly three a.m and Steve does not want to be awake. But sadly, he’s a light sleeper who can be woken up by anything, especially his phone going off.

“Hello?” Steve asks. He probably could have read the caller id to figure out who it was, but the bright light hurts his eyes and his grogginess hinders him from figuring out the voice.

“C-Can you come to my room?” the voice shakily asks. Steve’s heart breaks a little at the helplessness and he realizes why he couldn’t figure out who it was.

“I’ll be right over, doll.” Steve responds before hanging up. He doesn’t bother grabbing a shirt as he strolls over to your room in only his boxers. When he reaches your door, he opens it slowly and the sight makes his heart break a second time. 

Your knees are to your chest and your head is buried. He closes the door behind him and walks over to your bed. Steve sits beside you and you look up when you feel the bed sink down. You’re sniffling and tears are streaming down your cheeks. 

Steve removes the hair that’s stuck to your face and asks, “What’s wrong, honey?” Steve rests his hand on your face and you lean into it a little.

“I had a bad dream.” you reply quietly, tears still in your eyes. Steve’s never seen you this shaken up and vulnerable, so it must have been a pretty bad dream. He knows you have a rough past, but he’s never pried.

So instead, he whispers, “C’mere.” Steve barely opens his arms before you fall into him. You cry into his chest as Steve soothingly rubs your back. He feels the material and notices that it’s his shirt. Steve feels his pride grow at the thought of you going to his shirt before deciding you needed the real thing. Steve’s other hand lightly strokes your hair as he attempts to comfort you. 

Your cries eventually turn to light whimpers and you pull away a little. You bite your lip unsurely and ask, “Can you sleep here?” You can’t make eye contact with him and you play with your hair a little.

“Of course,” Steve responds and you immediately meet his eyes. They’re still watery but filled with a little more life. You scoot over and lay down under the covers. Steve lays behind you and wraps his arms around your body. He buries his head in your neck and plants a light kiss on the side. Steve’s seen you naked numerous times, but somehow, you in his t-shirt, while he holds you in his arms feels more intimate and he loves it.

Steve continues to drink you in when he hears someone clear their throat beside him. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Steve turns his head to see Tony also looking at you.

Steve pulls his attention away from you and toward Tony. “Yes, I mean, anything’s better than our tactical suits.” he jokes to lose any suspicion.

Tony doesn’t seem to bite when he replies, “Hm, well it doesn’t hurt to have a body like that.” He knows Tony’s only saying that to make his blood boil, but the worst part is that it’s working.

“How would Pepper feel about you talking like that?” Steve asks to change the subject.

Tony laughs heartily and asserts, “There’s no harm in looking and it’s not like I’d actually do something.” Steve catches the emphasis and he glares a little.

“Shouldn’t you be making your rounds?” Steve questions to get the man away from him. 

Tony concedes and responds, “Yeah, I guess.” Tony grabs a glass, which may or may not have been his, from the counter and before he walks away, he says, “Hook up with her before someone else does.” Steve wants to protest, but Tony’s gone before he could get a word in.

Steve sighs and asks the bartender for another drink. Leaning against the bar, Steve looks for you again, but it seems you’ve disappeared. Steve takes a slow sip from his glass and when he sets it down, he sees you at the other end of the bar. You make eye contact with him and smile, but instead of the bright, wide one you use on strangers, it’s smaller and a bit mischievous. You only smile like that towards him and Steve knows he shouldn’t feel this way, but he can’t help but feel special. You’re holding a glass of mostly full champagne. You probably grabbed it for appearances, but either way, Steve can’t help but imagine your small hand wrapped around his-

“Having fun, Cap?” Steve’s fantasy breaks when he realizes you’re right in front of him. You’re joking with him, but almost everything you say comes off as flirtatious, especially in this atmosphere. Leaning against the bar, you join him in people-watching. 

“I am now.” Steve flirts back. He was never comfortable with flirting, but after spending time with you, he’s learned to get used to it. Steve adds, “I see you’re wearing the dress I wanted.” You laugh a little and turn to stand in front of him.

“Well, I had to reward you for not leaving marks.” you state, pulling Steve into a trance. He can feel himself subconsciously leaning towards you, but does nothing to stop it.

“You know I still left marks.” Steve leans closely so that his lips are almost touching the shell of your ear. “Only in places, I could see.”

Steve doesn’t know why you wanted him over. It’s barely two o’clock and while he would never deny a quick hook up, it seemed a bit early. When he knocks on the door, he hears a loud, ‘wait a minute’ and a rustling of clothes. After a couple more minutes, you finally let him come in. When he enters, he sees three dresses hanged up. “What’s this?” Steve asks, realizing how dense he sounded.

“I need you to help pick out a dress for the gala.” you state plainly. 

“Really?” Steve asks, quirking his eyebrow.

“Yes! Now sit!” you command as you point at your bed. Steve sighs and plops down on your mattress. You grab the three dresses and head into your bathroom. He looks around your room as he waits. He’s never had time to notice the little things because he’s usually preoccupied. But now that he has the time, he notices there isn’t much to notice. Your walls are mostly bare save for a few paintings you picked up at the thrift store. He sees the full-length mirror propped against your wall and makes a mental note to fuck you in front of it. 

Before he could continue his observing, you ask, “Ready, Steve?”

“Yes, I’m ready, doll.” he replies and you open the door. You’re dressed in a light pink dress with the straps down and your shoulders exposed. He lingers on the faded bruised on your neck before he moves down the dress. Gold embellishments connect the bodice to the skirt, which goes out and rests on the ground. A slit in front of your left thigh exposes most of your leg and stops just before your hip.

“Damn,” Steve curses, causing you to laugh. You stroll over to the full-length mirror and look at yourself.

“It’s pretty, but not my color.” you comment. Before Steve could add anything else, you are already in the bathroom. He waits another five or so minutes before you emerge again. This time in a strapless red dress. It’s much plainer than the first one, but you look just as beautiful.

“You look beautiful.” Steve states. 

This time, you don’t go in front of the mirror and claim, “It’s too bright.” Steve wants to say that you look good in everything, but he holds his tongue and you disappear into the bathroom. Steve looks down at his phone and sees that Sam asked him to work out together. 

He’s about to respond when he hears, “Okay, this is the last one.” Steve looks up and his eyes widen. It’s a darker shade of red than the last one. Held up by thin straps, it dips down slightly to expose a bit of cleavage. Red embroidered flowers dance around the front and if Steve wasn’t sold enough, you show him the back.

The fabric dips down to your hip and exposes your entire back. The tight dress shapes your ass perfectly and Steve’s jaw drops a little. You see his reaction and smile. “So is this the one?” you joke.

“Fuck yes.” Steve replies. You walk over to Steve and sit on his lap.

“Okay, but you have to promise to not leave any marks.” You kiss his neck and whisper, “I know how much you like my back.” With that, Steve flips you so that you’re beneath him and kisses you fiercely, planning to keep you there until he completely enraptures you. A couple hours later, he receives a call from a very annoyed Sam asking why he didn’t respond.

You remove yourself from the bar so that you’re standing in front of him. Setting the champagne flute behind him, you lazily wrap your arms around his neck. Steve keeps his hands just above your hips to avoid any suspicions. You seem to catch on, but instead lean closer to him. Moving your hands down to his chest, you ask with a coy smile, “Scared we’re gonna get caught, Cap?”

He responds, “Maybe. We don’t want anyone getting any ideas, right?”

You raise your eyebrow and ask, “Like what? Cause you know...” you’re so close that anybody nearby has to know something’s up. You whisper in his ear, “I’m all yours.” Steve’s mouth goes dry despite the three or so drinks. You laugh and pull away slightly. Steve desperately wants to take you to his room and fuck you into tomorrow, but he knows that he can’t just slip out.

As if some god above heard him, Steve hears a yell and numerous gasps. “You disgusting motherfucker!” a woman yells. Steve sees that she’s talking to the pressed-suit man. “How dare you come here to cheat on me?” The crowd gasps dramatically and Steve notices the secret reporter come out, notebook and pen in hand. Before Steve could continue watching the scene, he feels a tug at his hand. He looks down and sees you motion upstairs. He smiles as the two of you slip out while everyone is distracted. Steve follows you up the stairs and immediately towards his room. 

Steve doesn’t even open the door before you pull him against you and into a searing kiss. It almost takes the breath away from him as he moves against you. Steve’s hands travel to your thighs as you continue to make out. You jump and Steve moves you up so your legs can wrap around him. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him like your life depends on it. With his right hand, Steve searches for the doorknob before he finally finds it and opens the door. 

He carries you to his bed and sits down with your legs straddling him. Grinding down onto his hips, you moan and the sound is heaven to Steve’s ears. Steve breaks away before kissing down your neck. He removes the straps from your dress and the front falls. He groans lowly when he sees your chest fully exposed. Steve takes your right nipple into his mouth and you throw your head back. While he sucks on your right breast, he grabs your left and plays with your nipple.

“Fuck, Steve,” you moan. Steve separates from your body and you stand up to step out of the dress. You’re completely naked except for your black thong. You frown a little and complain, “It’s unfair that I’m the only naked one.” Steve laughs and undresses so that he’s left in his boxer briefs. You climb on Steve again and move to pull him out of his briefs. Steve stops your hand and you furrow your brows.

“Patience, honey.” Steve reprimands lightly as his fingers trail up and down your thighs. You pout that cute, little pout that little gets you whatever you want. Steve stays strong and chooses to play with the thin strap of your thong. 

You whine, “Steve, I need you.” He finally gives in and moves your thong to the side. Swiping a finger through your folds, Steve groans.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll,” he murmurs before he slips a finger in. It goes in so easily that Steve adds a second finger soon after. He pumps his fingers, occasionally curling them up.

“You were eye-fucking me all night, Steve. How couldn’t I be?” you quip back, trying to hold back the desperateness in your voice and failing miserably.

Steve smiles with pride as he quickens the pace. He asks lowly, “So I’m the one that made you this wet? Not Bucky?” 

Why are you dancing with him? He knows that your relationship is secret, but that doesn’t mean you could grind on his best friend. But here you are, wearing a dress so short that Steve could just slip his fingers up. 

The music is loud, but all Steve could focus on is you and Bucky. Your ass is against his crotch as he wraps an arm around you. It makes Steve so angry that he almost breaks the glass in his hand. What angers Steve, even more, is that Bucky knows about the two of you. Being Steve’s best friend, he can notice the smallest differences in his mood. So when Steve started going straight to his room after missions instead of the common room, Bucky knew something was up.

Steve continues to watch you practically fuck Bucky on the dance floor when you turn to him. His scowl must be pretty obvious because you smile at him and wink. The next morning, Steve had to carry you everywhere.

You fall forward as he fucks you with his fingers. You cry out, “No, y-you. You’re the only one that can make me this wet.” Steve rewards you with a third finger. Your pants and moans grow louder and Steve knows that you’re close. Applying pressure to your clit, Steve watches as you fall apart on his fingers. You bury your head in Steve’s neck and try to muffle your moan. Your breathing starts slowing as you come down from your high.

“I wanna ride you,” you mutter into his ear, just loudly enough for him to understand. Steve obliges and pulls his briefs down. His cock springs up against his stomach. Pulling away so you can face him, you lick your lips at the sight of his throbbing dick. Pumping him gently, Steve bucks into your hand as you swipe the precum with your thumb.

Grabbing your hips, Steve helps you line up with his dick as you move his cock through your folds before sinking down. Steve mentally thanks Tony for the soundproof rooms for the first time tonight because anyone walking by would immediately know what’s going on.

You bounce on his dick as you chase your pleasure. You pull Steve into a hot kiss full of tongue and teeth. You move one hand up to his hair and card your fingers through his blond locks. You separate a little and groan, “Fuck, I-I think I might be close.” Steve helps you chase your release by moving his hand down to your clit. You’re barely doing any work as Steve’s strong grip pushes you up and down his cock. 

“Ah-ah Steve!” You exclaim as your walls clench around him. Steve slows when he feels your cum drip down your thighs and you rest your forehead on his. Breathing a little less heavy, you ask, “Can you fuck me into the mattress now?” Steve whimpers quietly at your request and slowly pulls out of you. 

You lay on the bed with your ass up. Steve strokes himself and stands behind you. He tries to control himself as he thrusts into your tight pussy. You shiver from the sensitivity and Steve starts off slow. One hand is on your hip while the other is on the middle of your back. He hears your muffled voice say ‘harder’ so he obliges. Pressing you into the mattress, Steve snaps his hips hard and fast causing your ass to shake. The air is hot and heavy as your muffled moans and Steve’s endless stream of cursing fills the room. 

Whether you’re doing it on purpose or not, you clench around Steve’s dick. “Not gonna last long if you keep doing that, honey.” Steve admits. 

You sound spacey when you respond, “Then don’t.” Your words spur Steve on and he fucks you even harder. Steve learned early on that you like it rough and dirty. He used to worry that he was hurting you but you assured him that you wanted it like that and ever since then, Steve hasn’t held back. 

He wishes he could see your fucked out expression, with your face flushed and eyes fluttering. You cum for the third time with a whine. Dazed and swimming in bliss, you mutter incoherent words beneath him.

Steve can feel himself getting close when you breathily moan, “I love you,” As soon as Steve’s ears pick up on those three words, Steve cums instantly with a long groan. Once the fuzziness in his brain dies down, he slowly pulls out. You whimper a little below him and Steve’s jaw drops as he watches his cum drip out of your pussy and down your thighs. The dirty sight is almost enough to turn him on again, but then a reminder pops in his head.

You said you loved him. He’s never heard you say that and now that he thinks about it, you’ve never said it to anyone. He’s heard you proclaim your love for certain foods or a particularly cute animal, but never to another person. It must mean something if you said it to him.

While those thoughts run through his head, Steve heads to the bathroom for a towel and a glass of water. After finding a clean towel and filling a glass, he comes back to see you laying flat on the bed. Your legs are spread and shaking a bit. Steve tries to restrain his smirk as he cleans you up. 

When he gets closer to your pussy, you whine quietly, “Too sensitive,”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Steve apologizes. “Here,” Steve holds the glass toward you as you turn to face him. You hum a quick thank you before grabbing the class and taking a sip. 

Steve’s mind is still stuck on his previous thought. He wants to ask you about it but then he hears you yawn. Even though he really wants to talk about what you said, he knows that there’s no point when you’re so tired. Steve takes the glass from you and sets it on the nightstand. He walks to his drawer and finds a shirt for you to sleep in.

“Thanks, Steve.” you say, yawing in the middle of your sentence. Steve takes one last look at your chest before you cover it with his shirt. You move under the covers or Steve’s bed and lay on your side. Steve lays beside you and wraps his arms around your body.

You turn to face him and mutter softly, “Thank you,”

Steve furrows his brow a little and asks, “For what?” But he doesn’t receive a response. You’re passed out beside him and Steve decides that some things will be left unspoken.

-

Steve wakes up to you laying on his chest. A thin strip of light beneath his blinds shines on your hair giving it a golden hue. Your mouth is slightly open as you sleep soundly next to him. There’s a bit of drool on his chest, but Steve doesn’t mind. It’s kind of endearing to Steve. You’re so perfect and put together, so the image of you with messy hair and dried drool on your chin is refreshing. 

Steve gives you a quick kiss on your forehead before moving to check the time. Looking at his phone, Steve is relieved to see that no one realized that you and Steve disappeared together. When he turns back to you, he sees that you’re starting to wake up.

“Good morning,” you murmur as you rub your eyes. Licking your thumb, you wipe the drool off of your chin. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten-thirty.” Steve responds and you nod. Once it seems that you’ve woken up a bit, Steve clears his throat and decides to break the ice. “So, can we talk about last night?”

You tilt your head in confusion and jokingly ask, “Um, like you fucking me into the mattress?”

Steve blushes a bit and shakes his head, “No, about what you said.” Come on, Steve, just say it. “You uh, said you loved me.” Your teasing smile immediately drops and it looks like panic fills your eyes.

“I did?” you ask, almost like you don’t believe it yourself.

“Yeah, when I was us, fucking you into the mattress,” Steve responds, mimicking your crudeness. You purse your lips a little and avert your eyes. “Did you mean it?” Steve’s confidence and feelings hang on your response.

“I-I don’t know. Do you want me to mean it?” you ask unsurely. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable. Vulnerability was never your strong suit and it was exceptionally clear now.

“I-if you want to mean it.” Suddenly Steve has become emotionally constipated, making this conversation a thousand times more difficult. You hang your head down sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just really bad at talking about things like...” you trail off, not even able to say the word.

“Love?” Steve finishes.

“Yeah, I don’t know what to say without ruining what we have.” you say honestly. Steve understands your hesitance. He doesn’t want to ruin your relationship, but now it’s too late to turn back.

“Anything you say wouldn’t ruin what we have,” Steve assures. You sigh deeply before confessing.

“I do love you, Steve.” your eyes are still avoiding his like you’re scared to see his reaction. But Steve wishes you were watching to see the uncontrollable smile growing on his face.

“I love you, too, y/n.” Steve responds. You lift your head so that you’re finally looking at him. Your jaw drops slowly and your eyebrows move up in disbelief.

“You do?” you ask and Steve takes that as a sign to say it again.

“Yes, I do.” Steve says gleefully, “I love you so damn much.” 

You smile widely and you mutter in bafflement, “You love me?” Steve finds your surprise adorable and he sweeps you in his arms. Picking you up so that you’re straddling his lap, Steve pulls you into a soft, gentle kiss. The tenderness shocks Steve himself, even though he’s the one who initiated it. 

You pull away slightly so that your foreheads are still touching. You whisper softly, “Does that mean I’m your girlfriend?”

“If you want to be.” Steve replies, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You smile a wide, genuine smile and reply, “I’d love that.”

[talkfastromance4]

Sundress Seductress// Luke Hemmings

Twin @spicycal​ and I bounced this idea back and forth and we had to write it! We’re so excited to share it with you all! Check hers out here but to clarify this is not a Cake fic! You’ll see why ;)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut, slight voyeurism, slight praise kink, unprotected sex (always be safe!) 

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  *copyright is listed at end*

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

Since you first met Luke, there was no denying the attraction you both shared for each other. He was the first amongst the guys to catch your eye. His tall frame, broad shoulders, blond curls and sky blue eyes made your heart flutter. While he caught your attention, Calum caught the eye of your best friend.

The first few times you all hung out, you felt like a fool and acted like one around Luke. You stammered over your words a lot because you got lost in his eyes and his intimidating stature even though his personality was that of a golden retriever puppy. You swooned every time.

As time went on and you got closer and more comfortable, you began to tease each other light heartedly. You’d call him a tree and he’d call you munchkin because of how small you are compared to him. He’d come up behind you and rest his forearm on your head because you’re the “perfect height for an armrest.” And he’d smirk and you’d pretend to be offended but secretly you loved it each time he did it.

Your flirtationship grew and grew, just as your best friend and Calum’s did as well. They were always goofing off and laughing about inside jokes no one else ever wanted to understand. Many nights you’d stay up on the phone nitpicking each other’s interactions trying to decipher any hidden meanings. You always came up short.

You both figured if they liked you, they’d make the first move and that’d be that.

One night while you were all over at Calum’s with the rest of the guys, Luke was being more flirty than normal. He kept wanting to compare hand sizes and leaned on you more than usual.

“What’s gotten into you?” you giggle when he wraps his arm around your neck pulling you against him, your hand holds onto his chest. He’s very warm and you can feel his heart thud beneath his teal silk shirt. A shirt that makes his eyes dance and your knees weak as you gaze up at him.

“You haven’t,” he grins and you scrunch your nose at his attempted sexual innuendo.

“You want me in you?” you laugh.

“Well, I’d prefer to be in you,” he smirks, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, “but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“Oh yeah? I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

He shrugs, a dazed smile on his face until someone calls his name. With a quick, wet kiss to your forehead, he leaves you to speak with them and you’re flushed. What the hell was that?

***

It’s been a hot four days in LA and it will only get hotter so you were out shopping with your best friend for sundresses to wear. They kept you cool in the blazing sun and Michael was throwing a BBQ this weekend, putting his DJ skills to the test for entertainment while the pool was open.

She was telling you of the most recent encounter she had with Calum and you listened intently but also a bit distracted from Luke texting you. Just recently you began sending each other playful texts.

It stemmed from a few nights ago when you were having a girls night of going to dinner and a bar for some drinks to let loose. You had on a dusty rose body-suit with lace along the bodice paired with jean shorts and black boots. You felt great, you looked great, and with the amount of drinks you’ve already had you were feeling pretty great as well.

Feeling bold, you went to the bathroom of the bar and snapped a pic in front of the large oval mirror above the sink. The lighting in the bathroom made your skin glow. With your hand on your waist, hip jutted out and your head cocked, you stuck your tongue out at your reflection and sent it to Luke. Swaying slightly in your boots, you examined the picture more closely and thought you looked hot.

You took a few more in different poses, peace sign above your head, your back facing the mirror so you looked behind yourself and then a selfie with your tongue sticking out, the camera angled perfectly at your cleavage.

It wasn’t until you got home that Luke responded to your little photoshoot and you were giddy at what his response would be.

Fuck, you look good

Then he started sending pictures back. Not long after that, the pictures turned into scenarios and late night confessions of secret attraction. Your stomach filled with butterflies when you found out the attraction was mutual.

“Hey, what do you think of this one?” your best friend asks, nudging you harshly in the shoulder.

Your attention was fixed on Luke’s most recent text, it was a picture of him shirtless lying on his bed, his phone held at arm's length so you could see his chest.

Wish you were here

“Hm? Oh, um,” you look at the dress in question that is held between her fingers. It’s speckled blue with pretty wildflowers scattered about and a high slit that comes up just underneath the waist. “Wow, I love it!”

“Me too,” she giggles then smirks. “What’s on your phone that’s so interesting?”

“Umm, Luke’s just texting me,” you smile slyly. You reply back: yeah, why’s that?

“Are you guys still sexting?”

“I wouldn’t classify it as sexting, it’s very PG-13,” you defend just as your phone buzzes.

“Yeah?” she quirks her eyebrow then holds out her palm, “then what’d he say right now?”

You glance down at your phone and unlock it. His response makes your cheeks heat up and your heart beats erratically in your chest. You took a deep breath and read aloud his response,

“So you can join me in the shower, conserve water and all that.”

Then you gasp at the picture he sent. He’s in his bathroom now leaning against the sink with his arm on the mirror so it shows off his thin but muscular bicep, his stomach taut. He’s smirking at you in that charming way he does and your eyes slide down his torso, the treasure trail leads down to his pubic area that you can see a little bit of his shaft.

You gulp.

“Honey, that is not PG-13.”

***

Before the BBQ, your best friend sent you a very in depth text about how you can both get Calum and Luke to make a move. You stared at her plan for a solid two minutes, mulling it over and thinking of all the ramifications. Yet it also made you think of the potential perks that could go along with it.

Staring at yourself in the mirror you look at your sundress you chose. It’s a dandelion yellow with clear buttons all down the front. It’s short and fun and you chew your lip thinking over her plan once more. Luke sends you a text saying he can’t wait to see you with a winky face and it made up your mind.

With a big sigh and a look of determination at your reflection, you lift up the skirt of your dress and slip your panties off. You kick them to the side and examine every angle of yourself in the mirror making sure no one will be able to tell you’ve gone commando. Before you can change your mind, you slip on your sandals then leave out the door.

No turning back now.

When you arrive at Michael’s house, music is already booming from the backyard and you feel like everyone is watching you and they know your little secret. You spot Luke near the back of the yard and he’s looking hot in a white tank top tucked into his dark washed jeans. He spots you almost instantly and makes his way over to you, smiling happily.

“Don’t you look like a drop of sunshine,” he says and it makes you blush. He pulls you in for a hug, his hands slip lower on your backside and he gives you a light squeeze. You yelp at the action and hope it didn’t hike up your dress or that he could feel you were bare underneath. “C’mon, let’s go get a drink.”

The bbq is in full swing, the music is amazing and Ashton is grilling up a storm. When you finish your first drink and move onto your second, that’s when you gain some confidence in your plan. Glancing around you see your best friend and Calum dancing together in front of Michael and she shoots you a wink.

You’re sitting in a group near the pool where other party goers are happily splashing in the cool water when you have an idea. Luke is sitting directly across from you and he’s resting both his arms on his knees. You’ve got a clear view of his chest, his necklace dangling.

So if you have a clear view of him, then he must have a clear view as well. You have to time your moment perfectly and then Luke shifts his focus to you. Eyes on him, you slowly uncross your legs, spreading them a little wider and like clockwork, his eyes flicker in between your thighs.

After two breaths you cross your other leg over again, and smile sweetly at him when he looks back at you. He licks his lips and shakes his head, it makes you giggle as you down the rest of your drink.

Later on as the sun is setting, you went into the downstairs bar area to take advantage of the air conditioning. You’re leaning against the bar with your hair off your neck and then you feel hands grip onto your waist and a body press against your backside.

“Was that little show just for me?” Luke murmurs against the skin on your neck. His voice vibrates onto you, his breath hot as his thumbs knead into your waist.

“Did you like it?”

“Mmm… mhm.” You feel him nod against you, the tip of his nose traces above the collar of your dress and he lifts the skirt of it up a little. “I liked it a little too much.”

Luke spins you around quickly and suddenly you’re sat atop the counter, your dress pushed past your thighs. His fingers tickle along your skin and it leaves chills down your spine. You glance down and see just how much he liked it.

“What are you going to do about it?” you exhale, voice low.

“Take full advantage,” he smiles then drops to his knees, his fingers push your dress up further and he opens your legs wider. He inhales deeply through his nose and the way he’s looking at your pussy has you reeling, you can’t help the way you clench. He groans and presses his lips to the inside of your knee, dragging his lips higher and higher until you feel his breath on your core. “Can I have a taste?”

You let out a shaky breath, your voice quivers in anticipation and arousal, “Please.”

Luke keeps his eyes on you, they contrast perfectly with the golden color of your dress and he flattens his tongue against your folds. He flashes his smirk before his eyes close and he attaches his lips fully onto you, his tongue swirling and flicking ever so slowly. He’s taking his time and your head tilts back from the tickling sensation, your fingers fly into his curls.

The pads of his fingers are hot on your knees to keep you open for him and when his tongue flicks your clit you have to bite your lip to keep the moan at bay. He does it again and again and a small squeak slips out.

“Moan for me, lovie, let me hear you,” he breathes and the vibration of his voice pulses against you in the sweetest way. “There we go, good girl.”

He speeds up his actions and your thighs begin to shake, your hold on his hair tightens and you’re sighing his name. His words of praise take you to another level, his lips and tongue are magic and you feel that all familiar tug in your lower belly. Then Luke slips his long finger inside and you clench your thighs, your heels joining together on the middle of his back.

“So wet for me, lovie, cum for me, c’mon.”

With each glide of his finger and dart of his tongue, you feel your climax climbing, you grind yourself against his mouth and when he hits a certain spot you gasp. You let out a long moan as your body goes rigid from your orgasm. Luke drags it out as long as he can, slowing his movements with yours until you stop clenching. He gives you a last kiss on your core, removes his finger then rises onto his feet.

Through half lidded eyes you watch him move his finger to his mouth but you snatch his wrist and place his finger between your own lips. He watches you suck your arousal off his finger with his mouth open, loving the way you take his whole finger in your mouth.

With your lips still around his finger, you untuck his tank top from his pants and work on undoing them. Just as you’re about to pull his pants and briefs down, you hear a commotion from the stairs. In a flash, Luke has you in his arms, your legs hooked around his waist and you let out a squeal of laughter as he runs into the bathroom.

He places you on the sink and shuts the door locking it, the only source of light from the small window bathes you in a warm golden glow.

“Shh,” he chuckles pressing his hand against your mouth, you laugh against his palm.

“Did you see who it was?” you whisper when he removes his hand.

“No,” he shakes his head, “we’ll wait until--”

You both hear Calum and your best friend’s familiar laugh. You and Luke burst into a fit of silent giggles against each other as you hear what sounds like exactly what you and Luke were doing no more than a minute ago.

“Now what do we do?” you ask sliding your hands up and down his chest and over his shoulders.

“Well, I think you were about to take my pants off,” he knocks his forehead against yours. His hands brace onto your lower back and pulls you forward so he can grind himself against you.

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” you sigh. Your fingers drag down his chest and under his shirt, you tease against his lower stomach with your nails. You can feel his pubic hair and his breathing becomes uneven when you let your finger dip a little lower, touching his dick. “But I think you should kiss me first.”

He groans and presses his mouth to yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth and you moan. You kiss quickly but quietly as you tug his pants down. He removes his hands from you to help and then you feel his dick press against your thigh.

“Fuck,” you sigh against his lips.

“Want me to fuck you?” he whispers moving his lips to your jaw and your neck. You take him in your hand, pumping him slowly and rubbing your thumb around his head. He’s a little sticky from precum and it only makes you want him more.

“Please, Luke,” you beg, your voice rises as you buck your hips against him on instinct.

“Shh, you need to be quiet. Can’t have Cal hear you,” he breathes on your neck. He rocks himself against you as well, his tip teasing your entrance with each rock.

You help each other out, your hand guides him inside and he pushes in further and further until he’s fully slipped inside. The start of your moan is loud but he smashes his lips to yours quickly, feeling him inside you is far better than you imagined. He fills you completely and when Luke drags his hips away and slams back into you, you moan again into his mouth.

His hands are on your lower back, jerking your hips forward and back as he starts a steady pace. Your butt is hanging off the edge of the sink and if Luke wasn’t holding onto you, you’d fall to the floor for sure.

You’re both panting, breathing hot on each other’s skin as he rocks your world. You think you’re about to pass out from keeping silent but he feels so good as he fucks into you with perfect precision.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he sighs and you moan at his words which he seals quickly with a kiss. “You like praise, huh?”

“Yes,” you squeak out pressing your hands on his lower back so he can fuck into you deeper. “Ohh, right there, right there…”

He slams into you rapidly, his balls hitting your ass and it adds to your pleasure, you feel your orgasm coming faster this time. You hear a groan from outside the door but you don’t even care that Calum and your best friend might hear you. Luke is making you feel good and you want him to know it.

Luke kisses you again just as you cum, you moan loudly into his mouth as you see stars behind your eyelids. He pumps into you a few times before he pulls out and shoves the skirt of your dress up so he can cum onto your stomach and thighs. His load is hot as you feel it dribble on your skin, his moans are sweet in your ear as you encourage him to keep going.

“Mm, just like that,” you breathe in his ear and his body jerks against you until he stops.

Hearts racing, you stay there holding each other as you gather your breath back. In a few short minutes the moans and low talking from beyond the door quiet down as well and that’s when Luke pulls away.

You fall back against the mirror, body spent from the two orgasms he gave you and you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and gather toilet paper to clean up his mess on your thighs.

He tosses the wad into the trash can and pulls you forward off the mirror. You fall against him like a ragdoll and he smiles. The setting sun colors him in a vibrant pink now and he’s never looked more beautiful.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “We just had sex while our best friends had sex outside this door.”

“I know,” he chuckles helping you off the sink. Your legs are a little wobbly but his hold on you helps. “I think the coast is clear. Should we head back to my place and continue?”

“Yes please.”

He kisses your forehead then unlocks the door and lets you out first. You think he’s being a gentleman but he smacks your ass as you walk past. You’re laughing and then you stop dead in your tracks when you see Calum buttoning his shirt and your best friend readjusting her dress.

“Oh shi--”

“Uhh--”

“Hi!” you laugh nervously trying to break the very obvious awkward situation.

“Were you guys in there--?” Your best friend asks.

“Yup,” you nod trying to make the situation pass more quickly.

“So...we were out here having...and you two--”Calum points at you and Luke “--were in there having--”

“Yeah,” Luke sighs, grabbing your hand and tugs you along past them. “Tell fucking no one.”

You follow him up the stairs and with one final look behind you, your best friend gives you a thumbs up which has you laughing. Sundresses have more perks than you thought.

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Taglist: @galcalirwin​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @wokeupinjapanisabop​ @myloverboyash​  @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth​ @dezzym17 @loverofmineabi​ @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @thesubtweeter​ @wastedheartcth​ @atlcalm​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @allier59​ @calumhoodaf​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid​ @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms​

[steve0discusses]

S4 Ep 39: Pharaoh Can Fly (Selectively)

Guys, they’re back

Best storyboarder is back, and the visual difference between last episode and this episode is like when your art teacher picks up your charcoal and just fixes everything wrong with your gesture drawings. It’s like...I mean look at this:

I just really love and appreciate how illustrative this storyboarder is. And I say just storyboarder because this had about the same budget as the last episode--there wasn’t that much actual animation as per usual. But, all of the scenes were drawn so well, like panels out of a good manga. They just...they always nail it when they’re at the helm and I don’t know why they’re on Yugioh, but bless this storyboarder.

Plot wise, everyone got pulled into the dragon by gooey tentacles that came out of it’s stomach, don’t think about it.

Meanwhile, all of the minibosses could communicate with them and beg for help, yes, even the same miniboss who may have dressed up like Pegasus and catfished Seto Kaiba.

(keep reading under the cut)

The whole process of getting absorbed into the Orichalcos demon was a whole lot of symbolism and it was...kinda gross. Also kinda sketch. Also, for Kaiba it is a neat little nod to S1 when he had a vision that his brother was absorbed into a dragon mass.

I don’t think that the makers of the show remember S1, but either they just really like goopy dragons, or it’s a coincidence or I dunno, on purpose? Probably a coincidence.

And like I made this joke and realized...what if they actually meant to make that parallel though? This is the America crossover season, and they have referenced America’s love of trickster rabbits before with Pegasus but do they know about Br’er rabbit in Japan? Do they know? It’s a pretty Americana Deep-cut, and I have no idea how common this folktale is outside of the states.

I see anime busting out absorbing goopy masses all the time so I’m gonna assume that there might be a Japanese folklore I don’t know about which uses a similar structure (although I’m also assuming it has an extremely different history and association ((which I won’t be going into because I don’t feel like putting a trigger warning on this recap)).)

And looking at Wikipedia, there’s people that think the original reference to moist, absorbing creatures could have even come from as far as India. Which is...fascinating to how it also developed in Africa, and then the Cherokee also made the same story independently and then it fused together here in the States to make it what was eventually made into a Disney movie that will never be released again--this is just a really old ass story, all in all, possibly like over a thousand years old.

And a FASCINATING google deep dive I won’t go into for obvious reasons but knock yourself out.

Also, lets get distracted for a sec and see how well this storyboarder drew a fitted jacket at that angle. Dear Lord, did they get reference for that or did their brain just already know that those folds would be there? You can even tell that Pharaoh has just a little bit of padding at his shoulders. Ugh. Guys this storyboarder is so freakin good at these little fitted jackets.

So, once Yugi and his friends are absorbed into the mass, where they should have died...and maybe some of them did, but I don’t know if I should add that to the Death Count because like...they could have held their breath in the amount of time they were stuck in there...maybe...Anyway, they are saved by being tossed into the figurative briar patch--by the souls all hanging out in the Leviathan’s stomach--which again makes me wonder...did they pull a folklore on us? Again, I have no idea.

Like a lot of the people in this dragon have been thorns in their side this entire season, they’ve all tried to kill them at one point--all the minibosses, Mai, Pegasus--but now they have decided to team up with Pharaoh (along with the rest of the human race) and offer whatever they can to free them from the grip of the gross dragon mass.

And like, the ending of the folk tale is that the thorny ass briar patch is also where the rabbit lives usually. It hurts everyone else, but the rabbit--the rabbit can deal with it. And likewise, Pharaoh is freakin dead. He’s at home here. He’s surrounded by spirit power, his friends and their friendship power, this is like his zone, and now he’s crazy powerful for it and will be for the rest of the episode.

And like Yami is a very trickster God (especially Season Zero Yami) so like...it does make sense that he would mirror a folk tale based on trickster Gods, even if it is by complete accident.

So Pharaoh imagines everyone’s tears as individual drops in a glass or something--it’s not a literal glass or anything--it’s just there because the only thing actually happening on screen was his hand hanging out of this dragon’s weird puss skin.

And he’s now a fully charged Sonic the Hedgehog and no longer needs Kaiba or Joey at all. Just gonna grab his God card demons and take charge of everything else from here on out.

By first exploding his buddies right the hell out of this lizard and across hundreds of feet of open ocean.

Joey decides to remind Kaiba that he lost the Battle City tournament.

Seto’s roast was actually in the show, PS. He is not super excited to be reminded that Yugi owns every card that he spent 2 seasons failing to get.

And then Pharaoh did something really, really...

...just really really wild.

OH OK.

YEAH JUST TAKE OFF.

GO AHEAD THERE’S NO REASON THIS WOULD BOTHER ME.

I mean he IS super powered right now but like...

Like...WTF?

4 SEASONS. 4 SEASONS I thought this guy was glued to Yugi like Peter Pan’s Shadow and apparently--he can bounce.

Can Pharaoh do this every time Yugi asks Tea out on a date and tries to instead make the ghost in his head do all the work now? Can Pharaoh just be like “NOPE” and then phase out of the house, leaving Yugi to actually do the hard stuff?

It really adds a level of complexity to their relationship if Yugi can get a room.

(If not a room for romance, but at the very least a room to poop in.)

OR has he been able to allow Yugi to wicked poop in peace this whole time, but the show just never felt like telling us because they felt like it wasn’t important (although it is crazy important)?

Either way I am just...floored at this character development.

Yami just let Yugi out of his sight for like...I want to say 8 full minutes. Just incredible amount of trust on Yami’s part. Incredible. Knowing Yugi’s track record, he should have died in those 8 minutes but...he was being babysat by both Kaiba and Joey.

So Yami summons the Gods and they shoot lasers--you kinda expect this sort of thing.

And this is...probably...the real reason why Dartz didn’t bother trying to attack Pharaoh 5,000 years ago.

I can still think it’s because of Bakura but like...this is probably the real reason. It felt pretty chump to just shoot a laser at the bastard. Pharaoh just had to be reminded that this is a thing he can just do. If he felt like it.

Which he never feels like doing, because he’s too busy watching Yugi’s every move, and getting distracted by High School shenanigans.

After this happens, the giant snake falls to the ocean, splitting into just sooooooo many ghosts.

Over 7.8 billion ghosts, if we’re to assume that this is most of the population on Earth.

(thinking the weird-o in the hat is probably a Duel Monsters card? The duel monsters were throwing themselves into the Leviathan at one point so this is probably like a dark magician boy or something...I just don’t get very attached to the monster cards so it was like...whatever. The cards die like constantly so who cares?)

It is a pretty set dressing. Like Christmas lights but...dead people.

We also find out that the lost family of our minibosses Alister and Raphael, have indeed spent the last many years inside the Leviathan stomach, which is pretty tragic. We get a bitter sweet conclusion to Alister and Raphael’s story--although it’s not a full on ending for either character. Their life still hella sucks, they are in therapy for basically forever.

Where is Gurimo?

I don’t know what sort of job or life these two are qualified to have now, but youknow...Marik’s boat probably has jobs available.

Hold up. Can we talk about the windows?

I know absolutely none of you care about this, but I do, not to be picky or condescending to an overworked art team, but because I just want to know what they were trying to aim for.

There’s an iron stained glass style windowpane thing going on and that’s what’s really getting me. Like...I know these guys were technologically advanced, but why did you use this WW2 background? What happened to Ancient Greece that you were doing before?

Like doing a super past with future tech is so cool to me--I love that sort of concept art. That’s going into like Black Panther stuff where you’re referencing the earliest stuff in Africa and then blending it with stuff beyond our science. But Atlantis is a real big shrug and a “listen we ran out of time and had to press print,” and it’s such a shame. It feels less cohesive than even when this show does Egypt.

And yo this show and how it draws ancient Egypt--I feel like I’ve already talked about that. I have a feeling I’m going to talk a lot more about it next season. I’ll get to it when we get to it. I’m hoping that they have more time and budget to actually DO Egypt for once. (I say knowing they won’t)

Like it’s one of those things where this isn’t a history show, like at all, and it’s very much a fantasy. I’m not going to be like those sewing people on youtube that get annoyed because their TV show doesn’t have handsewn stitching in their Victorian bodices they rented from the costume department from an LA discount warehouse. Because, yo, it’s TV, and I can stretch my own imagination because it’s acting. (although I confess, I watch every single one of those videos).

But...the potential, y’all...the potential.

Anyway, Dartz isn’t dead. He was just taking his toot sweet time getting down the steps of his Gazebo.

This is where things get very anime. I get this problem a lot with anime, I really do--and maybe it’s just me. But like...sometimes it feels like anime changes the rules during the boss fight.

That happens a lot, right? Where suddenly the final boss reveals something that like...should have been addressed way earlier? And he’s alive but you don’t get why?

Anyway, Pharaoh reacts by getting maybe way too attached to his newfound independence.

Which like...I can understand Tea forgetting that Yugi is one people that is two people all the time, but the writers as well?

And what’s kind of great about this scene is that Dartz does see Yugi as two people here. He doesn’t look at Yugi, he looks at both. When Pharaoh is like “Leave me, Yugi!” Dartz heard all of that.

Just kind of a neat thing that we finally have a dude that can just...see Pharaoh for what he is, but it probably won’t matter because there’s like only one more episode left of this season.

Anyway, Pharaoh and Dartz have a chat about where evil comes from...and like...it’s some Yugioh lore, all right.

So before the show decides to give us the Genesis on Yugioh and reveal where the evil of the Orichalcos comes from, or if all evil was created by Orichalcos itself (which is IMPLYING stuff about Orichalcos) the snake shuts him the hell up.

As it should. Leave that Pandora’s box freakin closed. That’s going into extended universe of Star Wars books territory (RIP.)

As an aside--pretty sure that Yugi is standing outside that tornado. Maybe it was just the editing of the episode but like...

Yo I’m pretty sure Yugi is just standing there. For the first time, it’s not his nuts getting roasted. Wow. Tables have turned so much since he was dead.

Anyway, here’s the link for new people so you can read these in order

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

There’s only one left! We can do it! We can finish this season in 2020! And actually get back to recapping Full Metal Alchemist! ~~Woooo~~

Oh man that movie better still be on Netflix or I’ll have to buy it lolol.

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 602: Prismatic Confessions:  Part I/III

Yang quickly stood up. "Alright, while we're all here, I need to get something off my chest, and it is a fine chest afterall." She breathed in deep before continuing, "We've all got ladyboners for Jaune." Weiss loudly scoffed. Ruby looked about nervously. Blake quietly eyed everyone. Jaune looked like a deer in the headlights.

"You?.." Blake voiced, "going to say something to that?", but Jaune still hadn't made any movement, or even recognition at what was happening. Weiss stood up and walked over to him.

"He's probably just a little overwhelmed from the moment." Weiss said. "Jaune-dear?"

"Jaune?," he confusedly asked, "Dear?" and looked down at Weiss.

"That's what gets him to respond?!" Yang asked, "Not, like, my confession?!"

"It," Blake voiced, "wasn't your confession."

"Huh?" Yang asked her.

"I believe," Weiss voiced, "she means it was OUR confession."

"Someone want to tell me what's going on here?" Jaune asked.

"You're like the prefect combination of dad and DILF." Yang stated.

"DILF?" Weiss asked her.

"Dad I'd like to f...." she said, as a shocked Weiss waved her off from continuing. "You're, like, always taking care of us, even if we never asked you to."

"Why would you need to ask me to?" Jaune asked.

"I..." Yang voiced, "Really don't know what to say to that. Why don't I pass it on to Ruby?"

Everyone looked at Ruby who turned into rose petals to blow away. She reappeared right behind Jaune. "Okay, so..." Ruby voiced. Jaune tried to turn around to face to her and she turned into rose petals again. He stopped and she once again reappeared behind him. "You know how I'm like socially awkward?" Ruby asked, and Jaune sighed, and stopped trying to turn towards her.

"No?" Jaune asked.

Ruby turned into rose petals and reappeared in front of him. He reached forward to put his hands on her shoulders. "A trap!" she exclaimed.

"What are you going to do now?" Jaune asked.

Ruby nervously looked down and breathed in deeply before looking back up into his eyes. "You're the first person to talk to me!" Ruby exclaimed.

"What, like, ever?" Jaune asked, and Ruby looked down once again. She looked back up into his eyes.

"At least at Beacon. Not that anyone really talked to me at Signal... The people I knew at Signal were nothing compared to you guys."

"I feel the same way, sis." Yang stated.

"And, like..." Ruby continued, "It didn't matter how socially awkward I was, you were always there for me, even if I never asked you to."

"He did seem to have a Ruby sense." Nora voiced, "I totally think it's his antlers acting like Aura antennas."

"Maybe?.." Jaune quietly asked her before looking back down at Ruby.

"So?" Yang asked, looking between Weiss and Blake, "Who's next?"

Weiss developed a light blue flush and looked away. Blake then rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Well, I suppose if everyone is confessing, I might as well join you. Even if it is meaningless."

"Why is it meaningless?" Jaune asked.

Blake brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at him, "Because it's not exactly like we've been talking... or anything..."

"Doesn't mean I don't care about you." Jaune voiced. Blake developed a shocked look. "What?" Jaune asked.

"How could you? You don't even know anything about me?"

"I know you're deeply passionate," Jaune stated, "but try to hide it. I know the injustices of the world wear heavy upon your soul. You feel personally responsible for everything that happens." Blake just stared at him, completely lost. "I want to help you save the world, but also want to help you understand that it's - NOT - your fault."

Tears started pouring down her eyes as Blake rushed into Jaune's arms, clinging to him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and she felt so safe and warm.

"How come she gets a hug?" Ruby asked.

"Easy, sis." Yang said to her. Weiss just looked at the hug longingly.

"We're here for you." Jaune quietly voiced.

"Saving the world together does sound pretty awesome." Nora added.

Jaune turned his head to look at her, "And saving each other." Nora gasped, Ren showed emotion, RW_Y were shocked. "Best family I've ever known." Jaune stated, "Only family Ren and Nora have had for..." and then trailed off

"You guys are all wicked-awesome-cool." Ruby stated.

"First time I've been serious," Yang said, "in, like, my entire life."

Weiss cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her. "You are far more dear to me than my family is."

"Does this mean Blake won?" Nora asked.

"Won what?" Ruby replied.

"Duh, Jaune!" Nora exclaimed, and Jaune quickly let go of Blake, causing Blake to pout.

"I," Jaune voiced, "didn't think any of you could...".

"But I'm sure you dreamt about it." Nora added, and Jaune just stared at her.

"Well?" Weiss asked.

"True." he stated.

"Shit." Yang said, "We've got a chance. Alright, now for the second part of my confession."

"Second part?" Weiss asked her.

"Well, yeah, we can't all be a smooth and adorable as you two are." Yang said, and turned to Blake. "Alright, I don't know how you feel about me, but... but I meant what I said back in Beacon."

"What... did you say?.." Blake asked.

"Well... honestly can't remember... but you remember the night, don't you?"

"I remember the feeling." Blake voiced. "Curled up in your arms, like time stood still. Being so close by the fountain. The feeling of being carried by a woman in an armoured bodice."

"IT WAS PYRRHA!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Are you just now figuring this out?" Weiss asked her.

"But?.." Blake asked.

"But?.." Yang nervously replied.

"If... I stay with you guys..." Blake added, "HE... is going to come for us."

"He, who?" Yang asked, and Blake looked her in the eyes.

"HE!" Blake exclaimed, "Adam!"

Yang reached over to grabbed her right arm, right where it had been cut.

"And how many people can he take on?" Jaune asked.

"What?!" Blake nearly screamed at him.

Jaune then looked between the collected, "Can he take on all eight of us?"

"He doesn't have to." Blake stated, "He will split us up, get us lost, and take us out one at a time."

"So?!" Nora exclaimed, "We just have to STICK TOGETHER?!"

"You make it sound so easy." Blake said, as she felt her soul ache at the very thought of it.

"We did just piss off," Yang voiced, "A... whatever the hell Salem is."

"Was that really her?" Ruby asked.

"Yes, and no." Qrow stated, and everyone turned to look at him, "Crap, they've spotted us."

"And just what does that mean?" Weiss asked him.

"Salem isn't that big, but she IS that powerful." Qrow stated.

Weiss then turned to look at Oscar, "And exactly what is she?"

Oscar looked about nervously, unsure of what to do.

"Easy, kid." Qrow said, "Just tell us what you know. We can't exactly expect you to have all of Oz's lifetimes of wisdom or anything."

"Or even really know anything about him." Jaune said to Oscar.

"I... honestly don't know..." Oscar voiced.

"Easy," Jaune voiced, "can you get Ozpin?"

Oscar shook for a few moments before breathing in. "N... no..."

"Why not?" Ruby asked him, bending over to look him in the eyes.

"Because he's..."

"Easy, kid." Qrow stated, "No one is judging you. Just tell us what you know."

"What I know is," Oscar tepidly said, slowly mouthing every word, "he used too much power. He basically used whatever power he had left... until... I don't know what's going to happen to us. All I know is he needs to rest, and will be for some time."

"o... kay?.." Nora asked.

"I'm guessing?," Qrow asked, "that he didn't tell you what Salem is, did he?"

"No..." Oscar stated. "He had two things he wanted to say, the first was to go to Atlas. The second... I don't know... He didn't actually tell me... but... he's... he's sorry... for lying to you..."

"A little late for that, now." Yang strongly voiced.

"He wanted to... let you... act like kids... as it's a role... you won't... have... forever?.." Oscar asked.

"I'm guessing," Qrow voiced, "that the big confession wasn't going to happen until after you guys graduate. But then... well... we all know what happened..."

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read into Me Chapter 8: Betty Cornell’s Teen-aged Popularity Guide

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 3,424

Warnings: ~~Anxiety~~, capitalism©

Author’s Note: Does this chapter actually have Steve in it? No. But is it one of my favourite chapters? Yes! Do with that what you will, dear reader.

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @wolfish-willow​ @scoopsohboi​ @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @ggclarissa​ @boredoomfm​ @voidnarnia​ @anonymousonion53 @the-passionate-freak​ @a-big-ball-of-idk

As it turns out, distant, unaware mothers were good for one thing. Prom dresses. Without having told her, she had sent you a design from a photo shoot she’d done in Milan, a creamy aqua blue silk with a white lace overlay and a bit of matching lace along the neckline, the skirt cut to tea length. It wasn’t exactly your style but it shockingly fit, a rarity from the gifts she sent you from abroad. She usually couldn’t even remember your birthday, much less your dress size. You chalked it up to luck and put the dress aside. Your grandmother had brought the over sized white dress box upstairs with a note while you were at school. You found it on your bed when you had returned, a strange sight to say the least. In your grandmother’s even cursive, the note explained:

‘Y/N, your mother called. She also sent this. She wouldn’t tell me what she wanted when I spoke to her, only that she needed you to call her back as soon as possible. The number she left is +33 1-155-1816. She said that if you didn’t call her back, she’d call again. I would call her.’

You called her back, but the call only confirmed what you already knew. The conversation left a heavy pit in your stomach when Samantha picked you up the next day.

Samantha was beyond excited. She’d decided to invite Robin with your ticket after all. The catch was that she was going to spend the whole night with the rest of the soccer team to push the gay vibes onto a whole group rather than just her and Robin. She made it very, very clear that her having a date did not mean that the pair of you weren’t going to hang out and that you were more than welcome to join her and her friends whenever you liked, which you already knew but was nice to hear. Of course, it was obvious that you could go and hang out with them whenever you wanted during the night if your anxiety became too much to bear, but you weren’t exactly friends with her teammates. It would be like trading one nerve wracking situation for a different, more experienced nerve wracking situation.

Of course, to get to have any fun, you had to force Samantha into a dress shop, her mother’s credit card in tow. “I just don’t see why I need a fancy dress. Nobody’s going to care what I wear.” She whined. You pushed open the glass door of  Hawkins�� only fancy dress shop, Melinda’s Closet, a generation’s old family owned shop that didn’t even have Melinda at the head anymore. You half-wished you could just give Samantha a dress and call it a day, but you weren’t the same size as it was and the only fancy dress you owned other than your prom dress was your funeral dress, something you weren’t really willing to look at again, much less let someone else wear it.

“Your mom cares, she wants nice photos of you dressed up. Besides, when else are you going to wear a stupid expensive dress like this again?” you replied with a shrug, turning your attention to the racks of dresses in front of you. Your very sweet consultant took Samantha away to take her measurements, as she wasn’t certain of her dress size, and you took to finding something black for her to wear. Samantha wasn’t going to wear anything pink or dainty, that wasn’t who she was and you knew that no matter what Samantha told that salesgirl, she’d still pull something that would technically look good on your friend but make her hate the way she looked and the girl who chose it.

The process began of finding the one dress that Samantha would tolerate. For most girls in Hawkins, dressing like a punk rocker would be out of their comfort zone, hell most of those girls skipped rock music videos on MTV, but for Samantha being anything else was out of her comfort zone. She wouldn’t leave the house without eye liner and hair gel. It was too far out of her safety circle. Samantha hid in her punk rock façade; it kept people out and protected her from people who would judge her. Her look hadn’t scared you when she started it up at age twelve, and it didn’t scare you now. What it did was scare away townie boys who preferred their girls pink and fluffy, in cable knit sweaters and light wash jeans. That was a blessing, but it also meant that she, just like you, wasn’t exactly the most social person.

You brought a large handful of hangers, black material hanging off in various lengths and amount of detail to the dressing room. The salesgirls took them suspiciously, and added a few muted coloured numbers to the options. Samantha scoffed at them the second she saw them, pulling the first dress from your pile and shutting the dressing room curtain. “So, are you excited to be going with King Harrington?” she called from the dressing room, grunting in annoyance, the dress clearly not co-operating.

“I mean, as excited as I can be?” you replied. You weren’t really sure how to feel about the whole event. It was exciting to have plans with Steve, but only as exciting as any other plans you’d usually make with him. In truth, you were nervous. Nervous to be watched and viewed by your peers at a social event for the first time since middle school.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she pulled open the curtain, revealing a knee length black and teal dress. You chose it as a silent compromise with her mother, a bit of colour on a black dress with its bright, swirling flowers all over the bodice. “This is terrible.” She added with a scowl, heading back into the dressing room, having not bothered to look at it for more than a moment.

“Try the halter back one.” You replied “And that means that I don’t really know what I’m supposed to feel.”

Samantha revealed the black halter dress. It was plain black velour with a sweetheart neckline and a bit of gold holding the strap onto the bodice. She stepped fully out of the dressing room, looking at herself in the full length mirror. “I mean are you happy to be going? Excited? Apathetic?” she asked, doing a half turn to look at the back of her dress “This would look so cool with some ripped tights and my docs.”

“Oh yeah that’s a no, your mother would kill me try again.” You waved her away, much to her dismay. “As for feelings, I’m feeling…nervous.”

“Why? What’s happening in that head of yours?” Samantha asked.

You sighed “I just feel like everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

“Okay, calm down Carrie White, there aren’t any pig farms near us.” Samantha replied. Another black dress, this one deemed too short and its skirt too puffy, thrown out of the running barely a moment into the race.

“Why don’t you try one of the blue ones? It’s more your colour!” the salesgirl chimed in, standing by the curtain Samantha stood behind.

Samantha poked her head out of the curtains, holding them closed tightly around her neck. “I’d rather die than wear navy in public.” She said deadpan. That was enough to send their salesgirl packing, supposedly leaving to find something perfect for her in the back.  Samantha shut the curtain with a smirk, turning back to her shopping. “What were you saying?”

“You were judging me for having feelings, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Right, Carrie White, why do you feel like everyone’s going to laugh at you?” Samantha asked.

“You say that like they haven’t before.” You chuckled darkly. Samantha forcefully pulled open the curtain, stepping out in your favourite of the dresses. Plain black taffeta that hit her just above the knee in a tiered ruffled skirt. The strapless bodice had a little sequined and beaded butterfly on the sweetheart neckline and she’d left the black sash around its waist untied.

You stood quickly, grabbing the ties as Samantha admired the dress, rubbing the material of the skirt between her fingertips. You tied them in a bow, emphasizing her waist in a pretty way. “Oh Sam…you look so pretty…” you said softly. You imagined this was what her mother had wanted for her and she looked both like herself and someone you didn’t really know, a more grown up version of your friend.

“Oh shut up, don’t change the subject.” She scoffed. It was obvious that she liked the dress, but she didn’t want to admit it. Still, she didn’t take it off and she didn’t leave the mirror.

“I just…I don’t know how it’s going to go and that’s freaking me out.” You admitted, scuffing your shoes on the white linoleum, leaving behind black skids.

“Okay, you want an image for this thing, picture this.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back to look at yourself in the mirror. “You’re going to get all dressed up to hang out with Steve in our high school gym, which smells like sweat socks and BO, and everyone who goes is going to stand around until someone puts on Footloose and then Carol and Tina will start dancing terribly and that’ll get everyone to dance. And you and Steve will have a fine time. Tina will win prom queen and Carol and Vicki will cry and Steve might win prom king. And if he does you’ll watch him dance awkwardly with Tina and then you’ll leave. And that’ll be it. Just like the snow ball, but this time with a date.”

You nodded. That speech was almost reassuring. You could remember the snow ball from middle school. You went once. It was a mixed experience. Michael Gardner asked you out as a joke early in and his friends all laughed at you, but then Samantha pantsed him in front of Linda Carson and everyone turned their laughter to him. It wasn’t particularly fun, but it wasn’t something you looked back on only remembering your own embarrassment.

“You should get that dress.” You said. Samantha looked at you carefully, then nodded when she was sure you seemed less anxious.

“I don’t know, I mean maybe I should try on something in colour. You know, for my mom.” You both knew that she was floundering over the price. You checked the tag. The dress was on sale, only $53, a steal in comparison to some of the other dresses you’d pulled.

“You’re not gonna find another dress that you tolerate.” You replied smartly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Besides, I’m not going to sit here and watch you try on a bunch more dresses that all pretty much look the same just for you to buy this one. So let’s just cut all that and buy this one now.”

As if on cue, the salesgirl popped out of nowhere, a silver sequined belt in hand. “Oh my goodness, that is fabulous on you!” she exclaimed “Let me go get someone from alterations to look it over.”

“Oh, um actually, if we can we’d just like to buy it as is.” You replied quickly. You didn’t like speaking out for yourself, but you knew that Samantha knew nothing about dress shopping and that the salesgirl had been trained to get clients to have their alterations done with them and pay twice as much for it. Besides, the dress was perfect as it was! There was nothing that could be done to make it fit better.

The salesgirl looked Samantha over sceptically before admitting with a sigh “I can’t really see anything that needs fixing. You should be fine to just take it as is.” She said. Within fifteen minutes, you were out of the shop with a black dress bag in hand and Samantha wondering how she was going to explain buying a fifty dollar dress to her mother. Samantha had been granted car privileges for the afternoon and she laid the bag out in the backseat before starting up the engine as you settled into the passenger seat.

“Okay, can I see your dress? Please? You got to watch me try on more dresses then I’ve worn in my whole adolescent life.” Samantha asked.

You nodded “Sure, I guess, there isn’t much to see.” You shrugged. Samantha took the fast route to your house. She was more excited about all of this then you had expected her to be. When you bought the tickets back in March she wasn’t exactly enthused by the concept of going to a school dance. You assumed that had changed due to a combination of catching the graduation fever being spread by your fellow classmates and the fact that she had a date with a girl. You believed the latter was more exciting than the former. Usually, the most Samantha got from girls was clandestine kisses hidden in the crowds of basement rock concerts. You couldn’t keep up with the ever changing list of girls she was seeing at any given moment. But Robin was the first girl in awhile who Samantha seemed honestly excited about. Most girls who she hooked up with weren’t out of the closet anywhere except the bathrooms of parties and while Robin was nowhere near out and proud, she was the only girl Samantha had met who could actually admit that she was a lesbian. That was admittedly exciting.

Both of your grandparents had gone to the community centre when you returned, their old yellow Volkswagen gone from the driveway. You led Samantha into your room, flicking on the overhead light and turning your attention to your closet. The dress was still in the wide, white box it had come in, its pink tissue paper crumpled under the dress. You pulled it out, lifting it to your body. “Here it is!” you said “Ta da…”

“Well, go and try it on! I wanna see it!” Samantha flopped into your desk chair. With a sigh, you left for the bathroom. You felt silly in the dress, especially after seeing Samantha’s, it felt twee and young. But you pulled its spaghetti straps up on your shoulders and smoothed the skirt, heading back into your room.

“Here ya go…” you mutter, doing a small spin to show how the skirt moved. Samantha stood, walking around you in a small circle with a quizzical eye. Even having known her your whole life, you didn’t much enjoy being scrutinized silently by Samantha.

She stopped in front of you again. “Your mom picked this out?” she asked.

“Sent it from Milan. No tags, so I assume it’s either from a photo shoot or some random store.” You replied with a soft shrug.

“It’s not your style.” Samantha nodded. You lowered your gaze to the floor. She wasn’t wrong. “It’s nice though. You look nice.”

“It’s pretty silly…” you muttered, rubbing your arms awkwardly. They were cold, despite the warm May day pouring through your open window. A small chill ran up your spine. “But I mean, it’s a dress. That’s all the dress code asked for.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“You look great!” Samantha repeated, reaching out to squeeze your hand tightly in hers. “Harrington is going to cream his pants when he sees you.”

You pushed her shoulder hard, making Samantha laugh loudly. “Don’t be gross!” you exclaimed, turning beet red.

“What? It’s true! You’re a total fox! He’s not gonna know what to do with himself!” she replied with a laugh. You weren’t sure that what she said was true. Steve had been with some of the prettiest girls in Hawkins, you could mark the pages in your collection of profiles and cross reference them to every girl you were certain he’d dated. His whole dating history was public knowledge, even if you didn’t want to know, someone would tell you. It made you a bit nervous to be added to that list, even when he’d told you that it didn’t have to be a date. You did want it to be a date. You didn’t know if Steve knew that, but you were excited to be with him in that way for an evening. You’d had plenty of almost dates with Steve, he even showed up to your door once with flowers. They were for your grandmother and they were potted marigolds, but it was the thought that counted. It was clear that your grandmother was surprised by it too. Both of your grandparents thought that you were dating. You couldn’t convince them that you two were just friends. Samantha was getting a little bit too curious about your relationship as well. She seriously seemed to think that you were lying when you said that you and Steve didn’t have anything going on behind closed doors. You were certain that whatever she was imagining was much more exciting and illicit than what actually happened, unless she got off on sitting with someone and talking. The sexiest thing you’d ever done with the boy was hold hands briefly. That wasn’t exactly spine tingling.

Well, it did raise your heart rate, but that was another story, mostly about your lack of intimacy with other people in general.

“Oh come on!” Samantha cried, smacking your arm harder than necessary “Do you seriously think that he isn’t into you?”

“I mean…it’s not that simple.” You sighed. It wasn’t that simple. Relationships aren’t built on dramatic declarations or big Hollywood moments. People had to be in it from the start, it didn’t just show up randomly for both sides of a friendship. You did like him, much more than you should, but you were certain that he didn’t reciprocate. He could do so much better. He deserved someone great. And you were sure he thought you were cool, but he deserved someone amazing. Someone who could make him happy. Someone who wasn’t afraid to exist. In short, someone who wasn’t you.

You shrunk like a violet in your aqua gown, shying away from your friend. “I’m going to go and change.” You said.

Samantha looked you over again. She knew you well enough to know that you were uncomfortable. She let out a heavy breath through her nose. “Okay, we’ll go and get food after this. Let’s get fat enough to not fit in our dresses anymore.” She said, flopping onto your mattress. You nodded, heading into the bathroom again.

You locked yourself in, pulling yourself out of the taffeta material. You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to keep yourself from crying. You had worked yourself into a fuss in your mind, tearing yourself down until the very idea that this all wasn’t some big joke felt impossible. You weren’t naïve to the world. You knew that people, girls specifically, would whisper about you once it was revealed who Steve’s mystery date was. You knew what they’d say. That you weren’t good enough. That Steve was doing charity work taking you. They’d make up rumours that you paid him, that you were dying and this was your Make a Wish, that he was only dating you to pass English. And usually, you could handle rumours and whispers about you when you weren’t in control of them. But you were in control of whether or not you go to prom.

You wiped angrily at your eyes, dragging away the tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of Samantha. She wouldn’t know how to help. She’d think that you’re crazy. You splashed cold water on your face, trying to take the redness out of your eyes and cheeks. You pulled back on your street clothes and carefully picked up your dress from the floor. You slowly zipped up the zipper on the back, giving yourself more time to calm down. You let the dress hang off your arm, heaving out a heavy breath before heading out again.

Samantha stood up from your bed when you walked back in. “You ready?” she asked.

You weren’t looking at her, your mind on one single mission. You pulled open your closet, lifted the large white lid of the dress box and carefully lay the dress back into the pink tissue. “Yeah, let’s go.” You replied. You told yourself that you could leave the problem in that box for awhile. Let it haunt you when you return home.

[mako-and-tails-and-stuff]

Day 13 - Paranormal AU

Pairing - Rita/Veridia

Words: 2,698

Rating: T

Here there be Vampires. More sort of Upir type vampires like in Hemlock Grove where they’re vampires but still ‘alive.’ Not exactly fluffy, it’s a bit darker, mentions of blood, death and other vampirey things. 

It was an old rivalry, like many of the old family rivalries. They all spanned back centuries. Rich, immortal Vampires families, at each other’s throats for centuries. Not literally at each other’s throats - Vampire blood is worth nothing nutritionally and tastes like off-wine. It’s not worth the effort. 

 It was like one those old playwright’s tales - the feuding families who couldn’t actually remember why it began in the first place. Rita had read it once, she found a copy in the library when she was barred inside the house following her transition. Romeo and Juliet it was called. Two lovers from rival families who both end up dead. The fragility of humanity.

 Of course the book was burned the moment her grandmother found it and threw it into the fire, screaming about how no human literature should be in the hand of a Vampire. If no ‘human literature’ was allowed then why it was even in the library to begin with was beyond her. 

Rita would definitely rather be holed up in the library right now, instead of accompanying an assortment of cousins, uncles and her grandmother to this ‘social gathering.’ A ‘social gathering’ being a mass gathering of the richest, most influential Vampire families of the country. Of course many of said families bitterly hated each other. 

 But once a year there was cause enough to push said hatred aside and pretend to get along for the sake of these gatherings. This was the first time Rita was permitted to attend along with the rest of the Santana del Rosario family. Newly transitioned vampires were considered too ‘volatile’ for events such as these and transitioning was deemed to take years, hence she been left at home while everyone else attended.

 The moment they arrived she had been awestruck. The manor was huge, inquisitive decorated, even beyond their own mansions and ballroom was easily the most impressive place she had ever seen - high arched ceilings with glittering lights the entire way up, leading to a crystal chandelier that looked impossible to clean. The floor was marble, enhancing the clicks of her heels as she walked. 

 Cousin Felix slipped an arm in hers, almost tripped her up as he pulled her closer. 

 “See that lot over there,” Felix whispered, nodding his head towards a group across the room. Each had the same curly coppery hair, and pale eyes, noticeable even from here. “Romanos. Stay away.”

There it was. Romano was a name she knew, they hated her family, and her family hated them. At least they were easy to spot. 

 “Ooh, they took their newest little one out,” Felix dropped Rita’s arm and slicked his dark hair back. The little one was what they called her, being the youngest to transition in their family. She’d never met another Vampire as young as her before. She tried to spot who Felix was talking about, but his incessant fussing with his hair pulled her attention to him. He made such a simple action such a momentous task. 

 “What are you doing?” Rita asked. “You already spent three hours doing your hair before we left.” He had taken over the main bathroom for the entire time, not letting anyone else in. She’d tried to get it to get her good comb that Felix had ‘borrowed’ but found the door locked with a note on it ‘Hair in progress. Disturb at own risk. Signed, Felix Serigo Santana del Rosario.

 “Making an impression,” Felix shrugged. “Can you imagine being the one to finally end the blood feud? I’d be a hero.”

 “You have no chance with that one,” Rico, Felix’s brother butted in and mussed up Felix’s hair. “She’d freeze you over with those icy eyes. You’d have better luck with Harry Yorke. Or try his brother.”

 “Hector’s here?” Felix asked, smoothing his hair back down, “I will be right back.”

 Harry Yorke was nice enough, the Yorkes lived in the neighbouring manor, but they didn’t often meet. The grounds between the two properties were rather… large. Felix used to sneak through the woodland to meet Harry until - 

 Rico nudged Rita’s arm, “Grandmother wants to show you off to people.”

 “Why?” 

 She was not some show piece to be shown off. That’s what the others did with the horses, cleaned them up and took them out to show all their friends. They’d done that to her own horse, Angel, an Andulcian mare from the same line as Rico’s high class stallion. It was Uncle Jaime who took Angel out and ended up selling her to Kilian Falk. 

 She saw Falk standing with Harry as she watched Felix slip away, wishing she could follow him and escape this. Falk’s blonde beard hid the sneer on his face as Felix came up to them. 

 “You’re our youngest. People don’t know you. And you won’t be the only one. That Romano one’s here too, Antonio Romano will be parading her about too. Not often they have a new one to show off, Antonio himself was the last one.” 

 As Rico had said, their grandmother had indeed wanted to ‘show her off’ with every new person she was forced to meet, her mood turned sourer and sourer until she could no longer even enjoy the architecture of the building that she had marvelled at when they first arrived. 

 Rita took the first chance she could to slip away, sneaking through a little door at the side and stepping into a cool corridor, the music instantly muffled. It was then it occurred to her she’d never been told who’s place this was. 

 There was no shortage of families in this area. The Yorkes were their neighbours, Falk and his range of relations had a large range about ten miles south, the Kilbride's twelve miles east. It wasn’t until the carpeted corridor turned into a wider chamber like room with portrait paintings on the wall that she finally learned it was the Ivanov Manor. There was no mistaking the scars across Sergei Ivanov’s face from the claws of a werewolf. 

 The last Ivanov was killed only three years ago by Alfonso Romano and the Manor passed into 

‘Communal control’ meaning a council of families ran it. Her uncle Jaime sat on said council. As side Harry’s mother Sylvie Yorke and Alfonso Romano himself. 

 “You’re missing all the fun.”

 Rita jumped in fright and spun around, coming face to face with the most beautiful Vampire she’d ever seen. A Romano for sure, she had the same curly hair, albeit pinned back, combined with eyes like ice and a pointed jaw.

 “And what fun would that be?” Rita forced out, trying to regain any dignity she still had. Vampires don’t get frights. Yet here she was, getting scared by a Romano creeping up on her.

 “They just brought in the human sacrifice,” the Romano said. She sounded serious but there was no way any Vampire would bring a human to an event like this. Much less to be killed, it was unbecoming. Killing for food was a private affair, at least it was in her family.

 “There is no human sacrifice,” Rita said, just managing to avoid catching the Romano’s eyes. She had such nice eyes, a bright, ice blue. If she was any weaker she might want to just stare at them forever. And if the Romanos were not her family’s most bitter, hated rivals.

 “You got me. Too many Vampire not wanting blood on their nice clothes. It’s such a travesty,” the Vampiress shook her head, the loose curls around her face bouncing slightly with the movement.

 The soft coppery blonde of her hair matched with the dark green of her dress, the fitted lace bodice, left both her shoulders bare as the straps curled around her upper arm. The lace went to her waist and flared out into a heavy skirt that to the ground.

 “You hiding?”

 “No,” Rita lied, “just having a look around,”

 “I saw you being paraded around by that old witch. My dad was doing the same so when I saw escape, I decided I might as well try it too.”

 She must be the new Romano that Felix and Rico were talking about, Antonio’s daughter. Rico hadn’t said her name and Felix had taken off to flirt with Harry and/or Hector before she could ask him.

 “She’s just excited to have new blood around,” Rita defended her grandmother, because that’s what you do. You defend your family and you don’t waste time taking to your family’s enemies, no matter how pretty they may be.

 If her heart still beat she imagined it would be hammering in her chest. She couldn’t remember how that felt now, it had been years since she was alive. In the biological sense.

 “My dad’s the same. I’m the first since him so everyone’s acting like it’s the Messiah or something.”

 “A religious Vampire?” Rita joked. “Never met one of them before.”

 When you live forever, and when religious symbols happen to cause pain, you tend to avoid religion.

 “You are hilarious. Do you know humans have people who make others laugh as a career, you should try out for that, I think you’d go really far.”

 “I think you’re right; I should really try out for that.”

 The other Vampire shoot a smile that literally made her knees weak and her stomach flutter. What was wrong with her? This was a Romano, she shouldn’t even be talking to her, let along joking with her or feeling any of these feelings. But then again, she really was nice to look at…

 The Vampire turned her head and looked down the corridor, the way Rita and presumably this Vampire and come down.

 “Someone’s coming.” The Vampire grabbed her arm and pulled her down the corridor before Rita could protest. She found herself running alongside the Vampire, the carpet muting her heels and the other Vampire’s. Then she was against the wall, shoulder pressed in against a wooden railing part the way up the wall and the other Vampire pressed against her. Actually pressed against her with her hand still around Rita’s arm. She could smell the Vampire’s perfume, it was the same one she normally wore herself.

 One of the serving staff, another Vampire, out with the families passed by without a second look and the Vampire pressed up against took a step back.

 “I’m Veridia, by the way. Veridia Romano,” the Vam – Veridia introduced herself.

 “Margarita Santana del Rosario,” Rita said. Her voice was weaker than she wanted it to be, she was still a little in shock from having Veridia literally pressed right up against her.

 Veridia raised an eyebrow.

 “Most people call me Rita.” Her grandmother and Uncle Jaime were the only ones who called her Margarita. And under official ‘professional’ circumstances where everyone one went by their full and complete names.

 “Well Rita, it’s nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you around,” Veridia let go of her arm and set off back down the corridor. She tried to not to stare, but it was hard not to.

 Rita tucked a loose strand of hair behind her eye and took a deep breath before following after Veridia and rejoining the party.

 Veridia may have been joking about the human sacrifice but no Vampire gathering is complete without a little fresh blood. Mixed with alcohol. It wasn’t the nicest mix in the world but it did enough to stop her thinking about Veridia and focusing instead on dancing with Harry. He was a good dancer, and it was a nice distraction until she caught sight of Veridia across the room standing with her father. Rita’s mind was flooded with the memory of Veridia pushing her against the wall so that server wouldn’t see them.

 Rita managed until the end of the dance and no more before she slipped off again, back down that corridor passed the paintings of the Ivanov’s and Sergei with his scars. Every time she turned she’d been looking for Veridia, so best to just leave completely and hide until it was time to leave. Hopefully no one would pay too much attention, if they did, she’d blame it on the alcohol. Or the blood, it tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. But that could just be the alcohol.

 She could smell Veridia’s perfume again, so managed to avoid jumping when Veridia spoke beside her, “you’re hiding again?”

 “Of course not,” Rita lied. She was technically hiding. From Veridia.

 “So why are you out here?" Veridia asked, her ice eyes seemingly staring right into Rita’s non-existent soul. “You looked like you were having fun with that Yorke boy.”

 “Harry? Felix is more interested in him than I am. Or maybe it’s Hector he likes more…” Felix switched every week between the two. But then he had been interested in Veridia when her saw her, a fact which now made her… jealous? She’d never been jealous before. She should not be jealous not of a Romano.

 “That’s the funny one with the stupid hair isn’t it?” Veridia asked.

 “That’s him.”

 “Tell your Harry to keep him. He kept trying to flirt with me until he got dragged off. No. Thank you.”

 “Probably wise. He locked himself in the bathroom for three hours doing his hair.”

 “Harry can most definitely keep him. I don’t even take three hours.”

 “Neither. It’s insane.”

 Veridia laughed at that. It was a nice, soft feeling that brought up. She made Veridia laugh. Why did it feel nice? It shouldn’t.

 “Come with me,” Veridia held out her hand.

 “Why?” Rita asked. Where would a Romano want to go with her?

 “I found something really cool when I was here with my uncle before, I want to show you. And before you ask – it’s a surprise. You have to come with me to see it.”

 It sounded suspicious. Yet here she was, taking Veridia’s hand. Veridia lead her along the corridor and up a small set of flagstone stairs, then a set of flagstone spiral stairs. This end of the house was so still, no music drifted, no chatter, nothing. Just the sounds of their feet on the stairs.

 On the last step Rita just missed the edge of the step and slipped, tipping forwards. Veridia’s arm shot around her waist to try to pull her up and stop her hitting the stone. All the effort succeed in was Veridia also hitting the ground, thankfully at the top of the stairs. Rita really did not like the idea of the edge of the stairs hitting into her, catching her skirt. Rather, she landed partially on top of Veridia, legs tangled and Veridia’s arm over her back.

 She couldn’t remember how to move. She really couldn’t.

 “Are you okay?”

 Rita nodded, “are you?”

 “Very.”

 Veridia made no effort to remove her arm or try to get up. Maybe she forgot how to move as well. Rita wasn’t going to complain. Especially when Veridia slowly sat up, but kept her arm around Rita. Rita tried to pull away, not willingly, this closeness to another person, especially on as pretty as Veridia, was something she never really had.

 It didn’t really feel… real. She felt like she was going to wake up any second back in her own room and Veridia would just be some dream phantom she imagined.

 She still wasn’t fully convinced even as Veridia titled up her chin with one fingers, her nails painted to match her dress and lightly pressed her lips against Rita’s. Rita kissed Veridia back and reached up to touch Veridia’s face, feeling sharp cheekbones and jawline.

 Veridia’s other hand found it’s way around the back of her neck, her fingers cool as they wound around Rita’s hair.

 _________________________________________

 “I have two questions,” Felix pounced the moment Rita slipped back into the party. “one where have you been? And two why is there blood on your neck?”

 Rita caught Veridia’s eye as the other Vampire rejoined everyone as well, her hair slightly mussed and a smear of red at the corner of her mouth.

 What rivals? And whoever said Vampire blood tasted awful, was clearly lying.