#Luxury fashion magazine for men

[theluxxemagmagazine01]

The Luxxemag magazines it is the one-stop destination for mens and womens fashion magazines online in india. You can check all the latest fashion news here in our magazines collection

[theereina]

Megan Thee Stallion attending the GQ Men of the Year party (2023)

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X: theestallion

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[blackgirlinluxury]

Nao Serati a/w ‘23.

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Client : Edition BRAUN Hamburg

Photography (c) Michael Dürr

Rome , Italy

( Shooting Day 1+2 )

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[myfictionaldreams]

So I saw that you said you can take specific marauder requests. How about reader is insecure but the guys don't know it and she goes out to buy clothes and new lingerie that she thinks they might like because in her head she thinks if she doesn't look like the girls she researched they will leave her for either just eachother or all the other girls in the school. So when they are getting into it sirius realizes that she has a new bra (you can make up the rest of the scenario but preferably after he finds out she has a new bra angst happens and then fluffy smut and then the very end in fluff please)

What are you wearing? // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.

Requested by: Thank you for answering my beck and call for a specific Marauders idea, I hope you enjoy your request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff (lots), foursome, self-doubt/low self-esteem, anxiety, crying/breakdown, pet names, making out, Remus has words of wisdom, discussing emotions, romantic gestures (a little cheesy), nipple play, body worship, dirty talk, teasing, begging, oral sex, fingering, possessive behaviour, restraints, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink (!), creampie, rough sex

Words: 8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was the latest fashion, created by muggles to wear luxurious, expensive lingerie bodysuits that uncomfortably hugged curves and pushed your breasts into busty mounds that they unnaturally did not sit at. However from the whispers from other students as they secretly hide in corners, sharing magazines and boasting about which woman looked best in the underwear, it was what was the latest fashion and everyone seemed to be loving it. So despite the discomfort, despite the desire to itch your skin against the lace around your hips, you kept the lingerie under your uniform, hoping to surprise one of the boys throughout the day.

It wasn’t that you never wore nice underwear, usually, it was a simple lace bra that softly cupped your breasts, the material transparent enough that your areolas were visible and had your boyfriends dropping to their knees to beg at touching and worshipping your body.

But like previously mentioned, this new style of lingerie was apparently very in right now and you wanted to keep up with the latest trends, even more so to please Remus, James and Sirius. It was hard enough pleasing one boyfriend but three? It felt like endless pressure to keep up, even though you knew that feeling was only from the little devil on your shoulder, the one that spouted negative thoughts that you were never enough.

It was nothing on behalf of your boyfriend’s to make you feel this way. In fact, they always went above and beyond to show you how much you were truly loved. But then that voice in the back of your mind would come back, reminding you that they were the most popular men in school, had endless other students lusting over them and it felt like you were competing, even though you already had the prize.

So this was why you had decided to splash the cash on the expensive muggle lingerie and hide it beneath your uniform, hoping to keep the relationship exciting and alive with the hopes that one of your boyfriends would pull you into a spare cupboard and find the present beneath your button up shirt.

This came in the shape of Sirius Black who promptly entwined your fingers together after class, carrying both your bag and his on his shoulder and tugging you down a deserted corridor and into a dusty, dimly light classroom. Sirius may have come across to others as coming from a pure-blooded family and always pristinely dressed, but beneath all of that was his rebellious side. The part of him that wanted it dirty and rough and everything that didn’t match his exterior.

He dropped the bags onto the floor, causing a cloud of dust to waft into the air but that didn’t stop his movements as he pulled you further into the room, not even bothering to lock the door, another one of his little ‘Sirius’ things, loving the thought of being caught. As usual, your adrenaline was pumping through your veins, feeling giddy and ready to do whatever Sirius wanted, just needing to be close to him, to feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin.

“Come here Darling, up on top”, Sirius patted the sizeable oak desk that was in the centre of the room, even bothering to wipe his hand across to create an area that was without dust, the perfect area for you to come and sit on.

Jumping up with the help of Sirius’ big hands on your waist, you sat on the edge of the desk, your skirt hiking up slightly so that the brisk wood nipped against the backs of your thighs. This didn’t stop you from spreading them, making room for your boyfriend as he slide his hands to cup your cheek.

Sirius’ citrus scent from his hair caressed your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips, urgent and devouring, leaving you breathless and grasping to hold onto his shirt. He had full control with his grip on your face, tilting your head so that he could deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your open mouth, dancing to taste your spit.

A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he moved his body closer, his crotch pushing against yours as your legs hooked around the back of his knees. You were thoroughly and utterly consumed by him, breathing in the air from his mouth, the taste and smell of him, his warmth seeping into your skin. There was one thing you would never deny and that was how consumed you were by him, by each of your boyfriends, you had been since day one.

Sirius released his hold on your face with one hand but only because he needed to touch your skin, squeezing the soft area of your thigh and stroking up, further pushing your skirt to reveal the entire length of your leg. He didn’t stop though, exploring with a firm touch over your skirt and beneath the hem of your shirt, with the intent to pull your hips closer to rub his tented crotch harder against yours.

But then he suddenly froze, lips unmoving and a confused frown evidently etched into his handsome features as he pulled away to look down at where his fingers were feeling a strange material under your clothes.

You’d forgotten about your plan, through the lust-filled kisses and touches, it had slipped your mind what you were wearing.

Before Sirius could verbally ask what it was that he was feeling, you quickly beat him to it by breathlessly explaining, “I had a surprise”. With the adrenaline still pumping through your body, your fingers were shaking delicately as you removed your tie and unbuttoned your shirt, pushing the white material off of your shoulders, revealing the majority of the lingerie bodysuit.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to look seductive whilst further pushing your elbows underneath your already pushed-up breasts.

You weren’t sure exactly what reaction you were expecting, maybe a horny curse or a hunger search of your body with his eyes, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask in a disdained tone, “What are you wearing?”

Sirius lifted the hand that had been resting on your hip, up to the tight material on your chest, trying to slip his finger between your breast and the lingerie but unable to do so with how tight and uncomfortable the bodysuit was.

“I thought you’d like it”, you say earnestly, trying to keep the simmering panic at bay that was beginning to pound into your heart. Sirius’ confusion only increased as the line between his furrowed brows deepened, a single step back to put some distance between the two of you, your legs dropping to dangle over the edge of the desk again as he looked over what you were wearing.

“Why would you wear something like that? Are you even comfortable in it?” he asks with a hint of distaste, something you hadn’t anticipated for him to sound like at all. 

You begin to stutter over your words, losing the confident seduction you’d been attempting to play off. “It’s…it’s not supposed rt to be comfortable, I wanted to look nice for you”.

This response only seemed to further upset Sirius as his eyes refused to meet yours, remaining only on the extravagant lingerie. “But you always look nice, you didn’t have to do this!” The rise of his voice startled you enough to quickly shrug the shirt back up your arms, crossing the material across your chest so that you were covered once more. Sirius finally snapped out of his upset to look into your eyes, the frown relaxing a touch so that he could slowly explain, “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, you know that”.

Embarrassment pooled in your stomach causing you to feel burning hot and slightly nauseous. Of all the reactions you expected, it wasn’t this. Yes, you may be dressing completely out of your comfort zone and only doing it to make the boys happy but you had to make an effort and this was the only way you thought how.

You tried to keep your voice from wavering as you explained, “Yes, but I just wanted to make a little bit of an effort. Anyway, everyone else has been wearing this sort of thing or enjoying the look of it. And I just thought you wouldn’t-”, your mouth slammed shut with an audible snap as you tried to keep the truth spilling from your lips.

Tears were beginning to line the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you hastily began to fasten the buttons on your shirt, eyes on your fingers and not daring to look up at your boyfriend.

You’d hoped that Sirius would let it go, the words and the bodysuit, maybe you could jump off the desk, find somewhere to remove the lingerie and it never be spoken about again. However, this of course was wishful thinking on your part as Sirius’ voice had dropped an octave as he asked, “I wouldn’t…what? Finish what you were about to say.”

Blatantly ignoring his questioning, you had finished buttoning your top, turning to look for the tie that you’d haphazardly discarded behind you on the desk but in the low lighting, it was hard to see, especially as the tears began to slip down your cheeks.

Sirius closed the gap between your bodies again, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt it in his direction, his eyes glazed in worry as he noticed your tears, quickly swiping them away with his thumb. “Tell me”, he encouraged but you could still hear the strain at the back of his throat.

It was like a dam opened within you, that small hope on the restraint that you had snapped. “That you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if I didn’t try and keep up with the trends of what's hot. Or that if I didn’t try, you’d all think you’re missing out on something so yes, this bodysuit is a little uncomfortable but I just wanted to impress you all so you didn’t think I wasn’t attractive or that you’d fall out of love with me because someone else looked more sexy or was willing to dress in all of these stupid outfits! I just wanted to make you all happy ”.

There it was, the devil on your shoulder, speaking your inner-most demons, laid completely bare in front of you. Fear after fear spilt from your lips, once you’d started you couldn’t stop, even though you were becoming hysteric, the escalation of the situation was just making you freak out more. You were full-on sobbing by this point, tears dampening the collar of your shirt and shoulders hunched as you sucked in deep shattering breaths.

The walls felt too close, the air too thick. You needed to get out, need to get away from Sirius, not wanting to even look at him to see the disappointment you were sure covered his face. Using your body for momentum, you pushed him back as you jumped off of the desk and stepped towards the door.

However a gentle but firm hand wrapped around your shoulder, halting your movements as Sirius’s concerned voice begged, “Please don’t go, we need to talk about this Darling”.

This wasn’t what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to talk, scared that your spiralling thoughts might be a reality, your consciousness being your worst enemy at that moment as you shrugged out of his grasp. “I just need a minute”. You sounded broken and another sob shook your shoulders as you didn’t look back. Not bothering to pick up your bag or find your lost tie you rushed out of the door, and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased when you heard Sirius yell and kick his frustrations out against a table as he let you walk away.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, keeping your head low so as to not have questioning looks as to why you were crying and scared you’d run into one of your friends or worse Remus or James. There were so many students in the corridors and you desperately needed an escape and ran in the direction of where there were only a limited amount of people as fresh air crisped against your wet cheeks as you rushed outside.

For a moment you contemplated sneaking to the shrieking shack, knowing that you could curl into a ball underneath the sheets of the master bed there but that would also be the first place that the boys checked other than the Gryffindor common room. Furthermore, you needed somewhere outside, need to feel the sun on your face and a sense of calm so you half jogged to one of your favourite spots in Hogwarts.

It was the one place you truly felt at peace and somewhere you’d stumbled upon once when exploring the Hogwarts grounds in your first year. A luscious green cliff edge that overlooked the lake and Scottish mountains and, what made it so special was that when the sun began to set, it was the perfect spot for the golden hour of beautiful sunshine. The very last piece of land that the sun-kissed before it disappeared over the mountains.

This was where you crumpled onto the grass, tucking your knees in close, hiding your face within them and wrapping your arms around tightly so you were now in a little ball. There you sat and you cried. For the embarrassment, anxiety-ridden and uncertainty as to what happened now. You didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, maybe it was better if you just stayed in that little spot forever you contemplated dramatically.

You were unsure how much time had passed but the air was beginning to chill as the sun dropped further in the sky. There were no more tears, but your breaths were still ragged, your eyes sore as you looked across the lake, and your body trembling through exhaustion and still, above all of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable the stupid bodysuit was under your uniform.

Footsteps suddenly crunched against the crisp grass and you tried not to stiffen at the unknown arrival. But with each step, you knew from the slight limp who exactly it was as Remus sat beside you, his legs crossed underneath him as you automatically moved your face to look away from him, not wanting him to see the mess you’d become.

“Don’t”, he insisted. “Don’t do that, don’t hide away from me, my love. Come here”, he encouraged, his heavy hand resting against your shoulder and tugging your body towards his. You succumb easily, releasing the grip around your knees so that you could lie your head against his lap, his hand remaining on your shoulder giving you warmth and comfort as his other hand stroked through your hair and he simply lets you cry.

Remus began to talk, lowly and calmly into your ear as he helped you through your overwhelming emotions. “It’s more than just the fancy underwear, isn’t it? Listen to me Love, we all have our insecurities that bubble away underneath our skin but we can’t let those negative thoughts win. We deserve happiness. YOU deserve happiness.”

Your sobs calmed down enough that you were just lightly hiccuping, not even bothering to wipe away your tears as his trousers absorbed the wetness. Remus lowered his head, to gently kiss the side of yours before he continued. “I know sometimes our minds are louder than our hearts so even if I tell you, how much I truly adore you, that sometimes you won’t comprehend how much it is true. But please, Sweetheart, understand that… you’re my family. You, Sirius and James. Without you three, I have no one and I don’t want you to think you’re anything else but my entire world. You could dress in the old linen from a house elf and I would still love everything about you. I don’t need you to be dressed in the latest fashion or clothes that are evidently uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, we ALL want you to be happy”.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you couldn’t bare to not be touching Remus, needing more than anything to show him how much you appreciated him, loved him with just as much passion as the words that he spoke. So without another word, you rushed to sit up and climb into his lap, straddling your thighs over his, shaking fingers cupping his scarred face to hold him still as you kissed him deeply.

It wasn’t like the same sort of passionate, devouring kiss with Sirius earlier in the day in that forgotten classroom. This was passionate in a way that the world began and ended with each other, that you need to show your love and appreciation with your lips where words would surely fail you. Remus was always the one to have the best advice, to be able to talk the others around when in a low mood, he just always seemed to know the exact right thing to say.

As both of your lungs burned for air, you pull from the kiss but only to lean your forehead against his, warm breath fanning across his face as he wiped away the stains of the tears, “I love you, Remus Lupin”.

“I love you too”.

The sun had now cascaded behind the mountains, leaving an orange hue in the sky as everywhere else began to fall into shadow. The air instantly cooled but you didn’t care, especially not with Remus who ran at a fevered temperature due to his lycanthropy. The two of you stayed like that until you felt comfortable enough to risk glancing over his shoulder, towards the lining of trees from the forbidden forest.

“They aren’t here”, Remus informed you, kissing your cheek gently and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer.

You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or not at hearing that Sirius and James didn’t accompany Remus. “Where are they?”, you asked quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted after your breakdown.

Remus took more than a moment to answer like he was trying to decide how much he should tell you before finally deciding. “They’re both back in the dormitory, sorting out a little surprise for you”.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat, that they were doing something nice even after the way you’d spoken and reacted to Sirius. “I feel bad I stormed away from Sirius”, you admitted to Remus, pulling away from his shoulder to play with the end of his tie.

Remus offered you a shrug, “He’ll get over it. I think he was more upset that he didn’t know how to process that you weren’t comfortable and doing all of this for his benefit. And that he struggled to find the right words to say without sounding pissed off and couldn’t fix the situation before you left”.

You nod, risking a glance up towards Remus’ face and relieved to find him looking at you still in a relaxed way and you knew he really wasn’t annoyed like you thought he would be. “And James, is he ok?”

Remus nods, kissing the tip of your nose and pulling a smile from your lips, “He’s hurt like Sirius and I, that you’d been feeling this way without speaking to us, he wanted to fly down here as soon as Sirius found us but I knew you needed some time to yourself”.

“Thank you”. You hoped that he understood that you were saying that for more than one reason, for everything and by the twinkle returning to his eyes, the life that was sparking once more as he pecked your lips gently, you knew he understood.

“Come on, let’s not leave them any longer”.

Remus helped you to stand and the two of you took a leisurely stroll, hand in hand, back up to the castle, you’d missed dinner but Remus insisted that he’d go and get you something to eat after your surprise.

The surprise was entirely romantic and your chest warmed with love as you looked at the dormitory that you shared with the boys. There were different-shaped candles floating around the room, Remus’ record player in the corner at a low volume with the latest Bowie track that the boys loved and rose petals were scattered across the floor and freshly made bed but the petals had been enchanted to change colour and shimmer in the candlelight.

A sweet, thankful gasp was just about to spill from your lips but it was quickly replaced with a shocked laugh, your hand covering your mouth to hide your grin as Sirius and James stepped out of the bathroom. They were completely nude, except for the black lacy tight underwear that hardly covered their genitals, and nicely tied off with a pretty pink bow over where their cocks were.

The two of them stood proudly, abs tense to show off and flex as much as possible, a wide stance and arms behind their backs as they both grinned cheekily at you. “What…? What are you both wearing?!” you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer and out of Remus’ reach, only for him to start taking off his clothes too.

You turned to watch, eyes wide as he too was wearing the skimpy underwear that seemed to hardly be covering him at all with his cock at half-mast. “Wait, have you had them on this entire time?” you asked dumbfoundedly, trying not to stare at the ridiculousness of the tiny little outfits.

“Oh I have indeed, can’t tell you how far they’ve been wedged up my arse but beauty is pain right?” he joked, subtly trying to pull the material from between his cheeks to relieve the tightness there.

You watched as Remus brushed past to stand next to Sirius who now stood in the middle of him and James, his grin softening to a knowing smile as you also moved closer to them. Once you were close enough did he tip your chin back, “Do you only love us more because of these outfits? Or would you say you loved us regardless of what we are wearing”.

The penny dropped as you now realised why they were wearing the uncomfortable-looking, ridiculously scandalous underwear. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, giving him a knowing look as you shook your head no. “Exactly. This is how we feel for you, I don’t want you to shut us out again or doubt our feelings for you. If you ever have a thought like this again, I need you to come to us, and talk because that's healthy and normal in relationships. Don’t bottle it up and don’t shut us out and please, don’t walk away from me again, I couldn’t bare it”.

You reached up to take his hand, moving it from your chin to nuzzle your cheek into it, kissing his palm as you promised, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry I did all of those things and made you all worry. I love you, everything about you, without the outfits”, you emphasise with a smile. “They don’t look comfortable at all”, you say with a giggle, noticing James trying to give his cock more room in the confinement of the lingerie.

“Think I’ve got as much room as your tits which reminds me, we need to release them from their prison!”, Sirius joked, his fingers reaching to begin unbuttoning your shirt and then pushing it over your shoulders.

Remus stepped up behind you, his naked back flush against yours, “oh Pup, this doesn’t look comfortable at all”, he chastised in a low voice, beginning to unzip you from behind. The relief was immediate as Sirius helped him by pushing the loosened straps from your shoulders and you audibly sighed as the warm air kissed your now exposed breasts.

“There are my girls”, Sirius mumbled, his thumb brushing against the nipple of your right breast causing it to pebble before his mouth dropped to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. Before you could properly lean into the touch, James’ tuft of hair was soon at the same level as Sirius's as he did the same to your left nipple, suckling it into his mouth before flattening his tongue against it. Your back arched, hands delving into both men’s soft hair, gripping and holding them close as arousal struck through your core.

The remainder of your clothes soon pooled around your feet on the floor, Remus even helping to unbuckle your shoes until you were left in nothing but your white frilly socks as Remus had effortlessly removed the rest of the lingerie and skirt.

The moments like this, when they were so doting and loving that you almost felt overwhelmed because you wanted to return that love and affection to all of them at the same time but with only two hands, it was challenging to do. So you decided to concentrate on the two boys attached to your front, who were nipping and teasing your tender nipples, sucking them into peaks before laying them flat with the push of their tongues.

The grip you held on their hair reluctantly relaxed and tried to do a different exploration, over their shoulders, feeling this leanness of James and the muscles of Sirius from where he trained as Beater for the quidditch team. Lower still your nimble fingers travelled to their chests, feeling the sprinkling of hair that curled over their pecks and then still further down with the goal to reach the hem of their underwear. However, in the position, you could only react to James who seemed to realise your goal and pushed his body more towards yours.

Your fingertips ran along the hem of the tight underwear and then halted as James shuddered under the touch as you stroked over his tip that had bulged out as he became increasingly harder with nowhere else to go. As you teased his tip, James began to kiss up your body, particularly over the indents over your chest from where the bodysuit had pushed your breasts up, and he didn’t stop until he was next to your ear, still needing to bend down because of the height difference.

James did not move with urgency, even though his hips were bucking under the tease of your fingers. With one cupping your jaw, tilting your face away and the other hand gripping onto your waist, James began to kiss along the column of your neck, over the sensitive little spots that had your knees weak and more heat pooling in between your legs.

Remus on the other hand now stood next to you, his fingers stroking down your jaw to grasp your attention which you gave him, looking up at him with wide eyes and bottom lip stuck between your teeth. “I want you to listen to me carefully ok? There will be no rushing tonight, our goal is to please YOU, and only you. I want to hear every little moan and cry that you have so there’s no need to bite your lip, my love. I want this pretty mouth open and begging for more, do you understand?”

You couldn’t think of words that made any sense like a thick warm blanket of fuzzy arousal clouded your thoughts so all you could respond to Remus was a desperate nod of the head and a throaty moan.

“Good. Now tell me, just before we start.  Who do you belong to?”

James and Sirius stopped the teasing with their mouths so that they could hear you answer, needing to hear it, for their own sanity and possessive natures.

“You, I belong to all of you”, you breathlessly answered, still looking up into Remus’ green eyes that always reminded you of spring, hypnotised completely by him.

“That’s right”, he praised delicately still stroking down the side of your face. “And, who do we  belong to?”

“Me”, your answer was quieter, heart pounding at having to say it out loud as you knew that he was only getting you to say it to remind you that your freakout today was unwarranted and you should always know that they’re yours.

Remus tilted an eyebrow up, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Excuse me,  I didn’t quite hear that”.

You refrained from huffing in embarrassment as you repeated yourself at a louder volume, “You all belong to me, to each other”.

This was the answer he was looking for as his lips curled into a gentle smile and then opened as he was going to continue talking but James seemed to snap hearing those words as the hand on your jaw pushed your body backwards, the other on your waist supporting your body so that you didn’t trip over. The back of your knees met that bed and the two of you toppled onto the soft, rose-petaled surface.

“I couldn’t wait anymore, need to feel you, taste you, want to make you mine”, James groaned against the shell of your ear as he finally turned your face enough that his lips found yours in a hungry, lust-filled kiss.

Behind the two of you, you were able to hear Sirius and Remus chuckling deeply at James’ frantic motions and then they were moving closer and sitting on either side of the bed, taking a hand of yours each into theirs. A way to stay close to you but also restrain you in a way so that James was fully in control and the pleasure was solely on you.

The Gryffindor’s seeker’s tongue brushed against yours, tasting and dominating the dance happening in your mouth, his body sliding between your thighs so that you could feel the scratch of the uncomfortable underwear that he was still forcing himself to wear against the sensitive skin of your thighs. His hand's hand began to lower, the wide expanse of his hands meaning that he was able to feel a vast area of your body at once, over your collarbones, your breasts, squeezing softly, a contrasting touch from his commanding mouth.

Over your hips, your thighs, tucking them in closer around his waist. Finally, he pulled away from your mouth, his glasses slipping down his nose as hot breaths being shared as you both desperately tried to breathe but it was mostly so he could tell you his contemplative thoughts. “I don’t know whether to let you ride my fingers or taste you”.

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, not being able to decide an answer for him but thankfully Sirius pipped up and offered the idea, “Why not both?”

James grinned, pecking your lips before glancing towards Sirius, “Good idea, Padfoot”.

Then his warmth crowding around your chest was gone as he quickly backed away and lay on his stomach at the bottom of the bed, his face now between his legs and hands pushing back your thighs until once again, Sirius and Remus took one each so that you were fully restrained.

“Such a pretty pussy, MY pretty pussy”, James admired as he began to spread your juices that were seeping through your folds, over the rest of your cunt. With one hand, he spread back your labia so that you were bare before him, he could see the subtle throb of your clit and the clench of your pussy, gleaming in the low candlelight from your wetness.

James licked a long strip from your perineum, over your hole and up to your clit, audibly swallowing your juices and moaning, and then there was no holding him back. If he wasn’t sucking your clit then he was pushing his thick tongue into your hole, exploring the tensing area. And then he was adding two of his fingers, rocking in and out in time with the circling of his tongue around your clit.

You were very quickly descending into the pleasure and gave up on watching him as all you could do was lie back and moan, hands desperate to reach for him but still being held back by your two other boyfriends. So you lay there, mouth wide open and mewled and quivered, especially as he began to curl his fingers, teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves before carefully easing the touch with a warm lick of his tongue.

“Is Prongs making you feel good, Darling?” Sirius cooed down to you, squeezing your thigh to try and grasp your attention.

“Yes! So-...so good, please don’t stop”, you begged, eyes clothes and a withering mess as James increased his pace. That’s when you felt it, the tightening in your core that sent tingles over your pussy and thighs, that feeling that you craved every day to feel and one that the boys were always so good and making you experience. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, James please don’t stop”.

James didn’t plan on stopping as he watched your reactions from between your legs, expertly fingering and licking you, feeling your pussy clenching and tightening around his digits before you gasped, arched your back and fluttered and pulsed with your orgasm. You felt both heavy and light simultaneously as he didn’t slow down his motions until you collapsed back fully into the sheets again.

“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out beneath me. But, I think it’s time one of the other two has a go, what do you say Honey?” James asked still between your legs. Opening your glazed-over eyes, you looked down at him and nodded in response, but you were also sure that what he had to offer now you would have said yes too. 

Remus leaned down so that his lips danced along your cheek as he whispered against your skin, “Think it’s my time to have a taste of your sweet pussy?”

This time, the aroused fog in your brain cleared slightly as you shook your head no which in turn earnt a confused expression to Remus’ face. “Want you to fuck me”, you stated with conviction, needing to be full and stretched.

Remus chuckled as he squeezed your thigh and wrist that he still held, “Already? But we’ve only just started Sweetheart”.

You whine pathetically, trying to reach for him and momentarily forgetting that you were still very much restrained. “Please! Want to feel your cock inside of me, don’t want to wait”.

“Ok Love, can’t be having my girl going without what she wants now, can I? You haven’t been stretched much though so do you want to ride me so you have control for a second?” He didn’t sound boastful when he talked and you knew it was necessary for him to ask this, Remus had one of the biggest cock’s you’d ever seen. In fact, when you first saw it, you were sure it wouldn’t fit inside of you. However now after fucking constantly, it was a little easier but still not something to be rushed so you nodded your head in agreement with his idea.

Remus moved to lay against the pillows, easing the lingerie at long last down his legs and onto the floor and then his hands were out and supporting your weight as you were released from Sirius’ grip and able to crawl over to the other Marauder. Once more, his body was a lot warmer than the other two but that only aided in moments like this, the heat helping your pussy to stretch.  Straddling his hips, you could help but grind your bare pussy against his thick cock that was hard and lay heavy against his abdomen.

The two of you moaned deeply, his cock throbbing just as harshly as your clit as it brushed against his shaft. Remus rested his hands against your waist, but only to support you, he let you be in control for the moment as your hands rested against his chest, pushing off of it with your movements.

Leaning down quickly, you pecked his lips, sighing into the touch before leaning back up and gripping the base of his dick, standing it up and then rising onto your knees. Even just feeling his tip brushing your hole had enough stimulation that you were moaning. This only increased as you began to lower yourself, slowly and with Remus’ support by guiding your hips down tentatively, making sure that your gasps were done in pleasure and not discomfort.

It burned but in a way that had you begging for more, stretching to your very limit as inch after inch pushed into your cunt until you were about ¾ of the way down before his tip stroked your cervix. Leaning forward so you could take the weight off of your knees, you both just stayed in that position as your body adjusted to being sheathed.

Only as you began to slowly rock your hips did Remus dare to move his hands but only to cup your arse cheeks, massaging the areas and helping you a little to ride back and forth on his cock. “Feel so big Daddy”, you quietly moaned into his chest, not meaning to use the nickname so early into the night but sometimes a different side of you took over.

“Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well my love, you’re so tight and pretty above me”, Remus praised and his hips began to buck up to meet yours, increasing the pace and roughness slightly and from the earth-shattering moan you released, there was no chance he was going to stop doing that again if it made you sound that good.

As you began to roll your hips in time with Remus, you had a thought as to where the other two were. Looking over your shoulder and see James and Sirius sat together, their hands clenched and resting on their thighs as they tried not to touch themselves and a pang of guilt settled in your stomach as they really were just trying to think about your pleasure. “Please! Please touch yourselves, take off those stupid underwear and touch yourself. No wait, come here, let me touch you.”

“This is supposed to be about you”, Sirius reminded you in a low gruff tone, like he was trying to restrain himself from snapping but was clearly struggling.

“Yes, and I want to touch you. If you won’t fuck my mouth then you’ll have to come over here so I can wank you off”.

Remus chuckled beneath you, “So demanding all of a sudden, is someone desperate for cock?”

You mewl, eyes closing and head tipping back as his cock fucked you with a hard slam of his hips, “Mmmm, yes! Always desperate for your cocks, because they’re mine aren’t they?” Your words were teasing and you made sure to timidly smile down at Remus as he grinned up at you.

“Yes, they are, all yours Sweetheart”. He fucked into you hard again, your body jolting from the momentum of the movement.

However his thrusts up slowed as Sirius and James stood on either side of the bed, the lacy underwear now discarded and cocks leaking and standing proud, bobbing in the air. Your mouth watered and you were half tempted to beg to taste them but decided to save your energy as you wrapped a hand around each of their cocks, squeezing and pumping slowly, in time with your rolling hips.

The two of them grunted, drips of precum building at the tip, leaking down and wetting the sensitive area. As you figured out a pattern with how fast to stroke them, squeezing in certain areas of their shafts and making sure to brush your thumb over the tip, Remus watched happily, his cock throbbing harder inside of you as you touched the other two. In each of the Marauder's minds, they were once again appreciating just how beautiful you were, taking Remus’ cock so well and pleasuring Sirius and James with your skilled hands, it was a sight to behold.

Sirius couldn’t hold back anymore as he roughly grabbed your jaw, tilting your face back and feverishly kissing you, tongue instantly swiping to gain entrance to your mouth, much like he had earlier in the day when you were sitting on the edge of the dusting desk.

The four of you moaned for different reasons, at the pleasure that was being shared and the love that was underlying in all the touches.

Remus began to fuck up into your body harder but still at a slower pace, his hand stroking over your abdomen, stroking the soft skin before his thumb dipped lower and stroked over your clit in demanding swipes.

Your thighs instantly clenched as well as your palms around the men's cocks. Sirius pulled back, needing to hear and see your pleasure as he stroked a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes, “You like the way Moony is fucking you? I want you to cum for him because, by the look on his handsome face, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.

Remus grunted, having been trying to hold back his own orgasm until you had found yours. It just felt so good when you fucked him first, pussy so tight, warm and all his that he didn’t care if he came quicker than other times the two of you fucked, he just wanted to fill you up, needing to see you dripping with his seed.

You were shaking above him at the sight of Remus trying not to unravel and the stroke of his thumb and cock were driving you ever closer to your own peak, thighs shaking with each grind of your hips.

Then you felt it, that tightening and blissful euphoria building in strength, like you were going to explode into a sea of stars as Remus’ name sang from your lips in pleading praise. “That’s it Love, cum for me, fuck you feel so good”, Remus shouted, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to his forehead with the restraint of holding back his own orgasm.

Thankfully for him, after a particularly hard thrust and press of his thumb on your bundle of nerves, you were clenching your eyes closed, mouth gaping open and body locking up as you came around his cock. Only a couple of seconds later, Remus was arching his back slightly, hands squeezing the flesh around your hips tightly as he came, cock buried as deeply as it could go into your cunt as he needed you to have every single drop of his cum.

Your eyes momentarily opened to enjoy the sight but then a hand on the back of your head distracted you as your hair was harshly tugged back, causing your back to arch up, tits pushed out as Jjames batted away your hand from his cock. But, it was only so he could quickly toss his cock off, desperately whimpering as he knelt on the edge of the bed to get closer to you as he too came, all over your tits and down your sternum.

You watched with a satisfied grin at seeing James frantically finding his own orgasm and how flushed he now looked as the last drip of cum gathered at the tip of his cock. The grip in your hair loosened enough that you were able to lean forward and lick a single strip on his dick, capturing that last drip and swallowing it down with a genuine smile.

James looked like he was going to combust at the sight as he sucked in heavy breaths and looked like he was going to pounce on you to show you just how much he loved you but then the one man who hadn’t found his on orgasm quickly disrupted these thoughts. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hiked you off of Remus's cock which pulled out of you, his cum dripping down as the tallest marauder slide off of the bed.

Sirius returned you to your knees and pushed your shoulders down so your cum covered chest was flat against the sheets and petals and your arse perked up into the air. “Need you so bad Darling, are you going to let me play with you?” Sirius asked, stroking a strong, wide hand down your spine.

“Please fuck me”, you begged, looking over your shoulder towards him. Sirius gave him a handsome grin, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached around you to grasp both of your arms and hold them behind your back.

“It would be my pleasure”, the long-haired man muttered, shifting his hips until his cock brushed against your cum covered hole and began to push in. You were so sensitive after taking Remus that you pulsed around Sirius, his cock stretching and filling you completely, he may not have been as big as Remus but he was still thick and hard. “Merlin! I love feeling Moony or Prong’s cum inside of you, feel it coating my cock and lubing your pretty pussy”.

You gasped at his words as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, hands tightly holding onto yours so that your weight rested awkwardly on your neck but you didn’t care, needing and wanting everything he was willing to give you.

Unlike Remus, Sirius didn’t hold back with his thrusts, moving with speed and intensity that had you almost seeing stars with how deep he was fucking you in this angle. Your hands desperately clung to his, feeling the coolness of his rings and using that to ground you to the moment as you were beginning to feel a little fuzzy and floaty from the day's events.

“Taking me so well, you’ve done so well for all of us”, Sirius praised, followed by a deep throaty moan as you squeezed his cock tighter at his words. This only encouraged him to fuck you faster until it was a blur as to where your bodies met.

Your toes were curled as the constant smack of his cock against all of your blissful nerves had you wanting to melt right into the bed. It wasn’t long before you were feeling that relief on the horizon and from the way your pussy was clenching, Sirius could feel it too.

Releasing his hold on your wrists, he quickly pulled your upper body up, until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your front to support your weight from toppling forward.

“Say it again, say you’re ours, I need to hear you say it”, Sirius asked, his sharp teeth teasing the shell of your ear, even in the new position it didn’t stop his deep, fast thrusts.

You were sure you were screaming your answer as your orgasm throbbed through your entire body as you did as requested, “I’m yours, I’m all of yours, Sirius- ah! Fuck please-”, you were rambling now, saying any words that you could think of as you were overcome with pleasure.

The sensation was so intense that you hadn’t noticed that Sirius had also cum with you until you were able to catch your breath and realise you were both collapsed face first onto the bed. Sirius’ cock was still inside of you, slowly softening and allowing his and Remus’ cum to continue seeping out and onto the sheets.

His lips ghosted over your shoulder as he moved your hair away from your ear, “And what did we learn today?”, he asked still sounding breathless but also teasing.

“Clothes don’t define love”, you mumble, feeling exhausted and hungry, looking forward to the feast that Remus was bound to bring you all after the cleanup and aftercare.

“Exactly. And what else?”

“That I belong to you all, just as you all belong to me”.

“That’s right Darling, and please, never forget it”.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents

For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”

He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.” 

“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee. 

He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it. 

“It’s a rental,” he explains.

“Did you get into an accident?”

“A truck hit mine while it was parked.” 

“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.” 

He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.” 

“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.” 

He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.” 

“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of … what? Old spice? Axe body wash? 

“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine. 

Genetics is a bitch. 

He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city. 

“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor. 

“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte. 

You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station. 

Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air. 

“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt. 

“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?” 

After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got. 

Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”

“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning? 

He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”

“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets. 

“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”

“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?” 

“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.” 

It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”

He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair. 

“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”

“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure. 

Fuck. Really? 

“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.” 

“But you’re not my boyfriend.”

His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”

He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”

He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.” 

You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.” 

“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion. 

“No, I honestly don’t.”

“Why?”

You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.” 

“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity. 

“That’s a little vague.” He frowns. 

“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work. 

“You’re assuming I’m normal?”

“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you. 

“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?” 

“BDSM is bondage, domination-“

“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”

“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”

You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”

He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.” 

You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role. 

He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”

Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it. 

“So, what do you do at the club?” 

“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck. 

“I guess? Yeah.”

“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?” 

He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.

“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”

His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”

“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.

“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”

You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…? 

Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.

“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”

You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?

Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?

“So…” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?” 

Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“

Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.

“Uh, Julian-“ 

“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you. 

You can’t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away. 

You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death. 

“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about. 

“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot. 

“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs. 

“Tom, stop it, fucking really?” 

“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.” 

“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once. 

“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place. 

You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t. 

“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts. 

“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back. 

“Tom, you fucking dickhead.” 

He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut. 

After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.

“Tom…you cannot do this.” 

A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.

He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.

“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”

“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound. 

He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”

“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.

“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”

“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-

“Have dinner with me.”

You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground. 

“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”

Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”

It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?

Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”

He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.

His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.

“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now. 

You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.

“I can’t.”

His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”

Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.

Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.

***

“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure. 

“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat. 

“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”

“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn’t you hear?”

“You son of a-“

Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.

Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have fun–”

“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”

Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that. 

Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.” 

“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.” 

Well, if he wants a fight. 

Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck. 

He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes. 

He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke. 

“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?” 

He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it. 

“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?” 

[nkjemisin]

You should try to go see public works Tempest in central park, it’s really incredible and reminded me of the city we became. It’s super insane and beautiful and wild and hard to describe, so even though it’s insane to ask someone to go stand in line all day to see a play based off a random tumblr message I really think you should!

Oooh, I haven't done the line for Shakespeare in the Park in years. Not sure I still have it in me, since it requires getting up at 3 or 4 am and spending hours fighting line-jumpers and so on. But I've been hearing good things about this year's Tempest so maybe I'll muster up the energy. Thanks for the recommendation!

Since you reminded me of it, here's a deleted scene/alternate opening I once wrote for THE WORLD WE MAKE. I decided on a different opening for the final version, obvs, but maybe you'll enjoy what might have been. Cutting because long.

     He's just a man standing on a rooftop.  The outfit he's wearing is bespoke, by a Harlem tailor who came in second on Project Runway's last season.  The jacket is rich brown suede, fine-stitched, over olive-tan pants and a piqué shirt of deepest royal indigo, and he's wearing the hell out of it.  If there were anyone around to see, they'd think he was a model, standing in the kind of casual-at-attention pose that only men in magazine photo shoots ever do, with one hand in a pocket and his gaze thoughtfully locked on the cityscape horizon.  The model aesthetic is reinforced by the fact that he's got a lean, strong figure and the kind of racial ambiguity that Hollywood diversity advocates love:  brown skin that's not too brown, lips full enough to be either natural or recent collagen injections, thick eyebrows that are as sculpted as his cheekbones, eyes with just enough epicanthic fold to qualify as "exotic" but not in like an ethnic way.

     He's not a model.  He's just Manhattan, human representative of New York's contributions to the fashion, media, and sex work industries.  He's not even trying particularly hard to look good.  He has simply stopped resisting what comes naturally.

     But he's about to be late for work -- and while New York custom permits a degree of conspicuous tardiness as a social power move in certain situations, this particular job is too personally important to him for such games.  So he steps up onto the low wall that surrounds the roof, and then he steps off.

     It's fine.  The building is twelve stories tall; anything over five stories is required to have an elevator per city ordinance.  He's been practicing, too, so all he has to do is shut his eyes and imagine, and the city's power holds him aloft in midair as solidly as if he's stepping onto flooring.  (He is; it's just flooring that exists in several other iterations of his universe.)  Even with this, however, he makes sure to take a step or two forward before calmly turning away from the cityscape.  People don't usually stare at the back of an elevator, after all -- and verisimilitude is key.  "First floor, please," he murmurs. In earlier days of the city, building elevators were a complicated luxury that required trained staff to operate.  In current days of the city, many elevators run on voice activation. At Manhattan's request, there is an electronic ping of acknowledgement, followed by a very faint echo of blended, long-vanished voices:  "Watch the door, please, watch your hands, going down."  Then he begins to descend.  It's smooth, slow; this is only a mid-sized building, not modern or expensive enough to have an express elevator.  Only the fact that he's descending through thin air makes it odd.

     Just above the sidewalk his descent slows, letting him drift to a gentle halt.  There are a few dozen people on the street in this moment, and some of them notice as he just stands there for a moment, letting the metaphysical aethers settle and the metaphorical elevator doors open.  The ones who stare are tourists.  New Yorkers generally don't react to strangeness, but they do notice it, if only to shake their heads and murmur "This fucking city," to themselves before moving on.  Manhattan catches the eye of one of the starers, winks and smiles, then strides off down the street.

     As he walks, he hums John Coltrane's "Central Park West" -- not for power this time, but simply because he's walking along Central Park West and likes the song.  It's also a beautiful day. Here at the heart of the city it is clear that autumn encroaches:  Central Park is across the street, dense with color-shifting trees.  Their whispers speak to the part of Manhattan that was more, once, than just concrete and cars; the island has always been here, after all, crossroads for many peoples, and those millennia of commerce were enough to form the building blocks of the living entity that it is now.  But mostly, he just likes that rustling sound, and the flickers of color and movement, and the faint whiff of chemical sugars forming and breaking down within the leaves.  Something about that scent, and the wind's occasional brisk sharpness, speaks to him.

     There is the lightest of touches upon the part of him that is more than a man.  Just a ping, to get his attention.  "You wanna focus, or you gonna just keep spacing out about the pretty pretty trees, Mr. I Was Bebop Before It Was Cool?"

     They've all figured out that words work better than thoughts.  They are one city, the six of them, and if they ever need to, they can function as a single brain and heart and will -- but doing that is as overwhelming as it is thrilling.  New York isn't supposed to be any single thing, see; the distinct characters of its boroughs are part of its strength.  More personally, Manny's probably never going to be super-comfortable with letting his fellow parts of the city into his head, because he's got enough going on in there already. 

     But he's right in reminding Manny to focus.  "Just getting into the spirit," Manny replies, waiting for a gap in the traffic before trotting across the street.  Then he vaults the low stone wall around the edge of the park.�� It's a twelve-foot drop beyond, but he manages it easily enough, landing in a crouch in a wooded thicket already carpeted in red and gold leaves.  Doesn't even make his knees twinge.  Nothing can hurt New York, in New York, except New York. 

     Well.  And one other thing.

     He moves forward at a brisk Midtown pace, pushing aside the branches of small trees as gently as he can so as not to damage them.  He starts finding white tendrils almost immediately.  Just small patches here and there:  three wigglers on a broad, still-green sycamore leaf, one on the tree's gnarling roots nearby.  A patch shaped like a handprint growing atop a hooded garbage can; that one's especially nasty, positioned as it is to infect anyone who actually tries to deposit their litter in the can instead of just tossing it somewhere.  "Rude," Manny murmurs.  He's getting rid of the patches as he passes them, just by touching the wood or ground or metal near each cluster and letting a little of "Central Park West" riff through his mind and down his arm and out through his fingers.  Earworms can be handy.  Good for killing other wormlike things.

     (Not so long ago, it would have taken everything Manny had to get rid of these things.  He had to replace all his credit cards after symbolically buying all the real estate around a particular rock in Inwood Park.  Now, however, the city is whole -- and these tendrils, tenacious as they are, are tourists from another urban locale who've overstayed their welcome.  It's easy to obliterate them, but it's more important to find the bus they came in on, and deal with that.)

     "Red alert!" says Padmini -- Queens -- suddenly.  She tugs on the shared part of their consciousness, projecting an image onto it that is stunning in its precision:  a three-dimensional and topographical map, with a moving cursor at its center and a GPS coordinate meter in the bottom corner.  Padmini abruptly zooms them in on the cursor, and then she presents them with a simplified view through her own eyes.

     There, jolting slightly as Padmini runs, is their quarry.  To most other people in Central Park, the young man who slips down a leaf-thick hill and then scrabbles his way over a tumbled, mossy pile of bedrock is just another cross-country runner, or maybe a parkour practitioner with a greater love of natural settings than most.  He's a lanky Indian-looking guy, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt -- but through the lens of Padmini's vision, Manny sees the rest.  The guy's got patches of white fronds all over him, and as he runs they waft back like long hair which just happens to be growing from his forearms and shins and ass.  Manny's used to this, people who look like yeti crabs, however horrible it is.  Far worse is the tendril which projects from the back of the young man's neck, thick and veined in a disturbingly umbilical way, forming a long white cord which twists up and out of sight amid the trees.  It stretches up into the sky, Manny knows from three months' experience, attenuating until it disappears from human eyesight with distance -- but wending southward before it does.  They all know where that cable terminates.

     "Mike check," says Veneza, and Manny's mental eye shifts to her view.  She's standing under one of the park's stone bridges, her vision bouncing a little as she crouches to stretch out her ankles.  Getting ready to run.  Manny feels her excitement as the tendril-covered man comes into view, jogging over a grassy hill covered in early-afternoon sunbathers.  But who's he kidding?  They all enjoy this.  "That's it.  Come to mamãe.  Drive him like a li'l doggie on the range, Queeny McQueenyface."

     "I can't believe you mixed like three metaphors in ten seconds," Padmini replies -- but she zigs left, across one of the roads of the park.  Manny catches his breath as she veers into a bike lane, because Central Park bikers all think they're in the Tour de France, but in the same moment he feels her latch into the bikers' sense of hurry and entitlement, drawing their power into her legs.  Her pace speeds up sharply, until she's nearly flying down a sloping sidewalk, veering now and again to move around walkers and a small crowd near a pretzel vendor.

     "That's the Jersey in me.  Metaphors are our pork roll."

"Your what?"

"Pork roll. Look it -- wait, shit, hang on."

     Tendril man has seen Veneza and stopped, halfway down the grassy hill.  It's eerie to Manny how still he is.  After all the running and climbing he's done, he should be out of breath, shoulders heaving, dripping sweat, but he isn't.  It's just like the other cases of this they've encountered in the past few weeks; they're running on something other than human power.  These tendril-people aren't avatars, however; they're more like drones, sent forth by some other malevolent consciousness and endowed with supernatural power only temporarily, and for their task.  And if they don't catch this poor guy before that power gets done using him --  Well.  Manny picks up the pace. 

     Padmini skids to a halt.  (A man nearby does a double-take, then nods in a grudgingly impressed way at her athleticism.)  "Shit.  He's going to bolt, isn't he?"

     In lieu of any reply, they all see Tendril Man bolt.  He jumps off the steeper side of the rocky hill -- a ten-foot drop; Manny really hopes the poor guy was in shape before he got drafted as a spectral conduit for a hostile extradimensional essence, or he's going to feel that in the morning. Then Tendril Man takes off, moving with truly impressive speed up a paved hill-path.

     "FUCK," two of them think.  (Manny doesn't curse, but he empathizes.)  They all take off running too.

     Tendril Man is running toward a big, round building at the top of the hill.  Its vendor doors are shut and there are only a few people hanging around near it, but abruptly he zigs toward a big wooden gate labeled PERFORMER ENTRANCE -- and vaults it, with the ease of a master gymnast.  Manny might be able to think of a way over it too, if he gives himself a minute; surely there is some quintessentially cityish concept, like elevators for tall buildings, that he can harness to grant himself the ability to jump like that.  In the fluster of the moment, however, he can't think of anything.  Gotta work on that, do better at having a "jumping" construct ready to go under duress.

     In lieu of leaping, however, he manages to remember the grating sound of garbage trucks barrelling down the street at oh dark thirty in the morning, usually with wonky transmissions and brakes that screech loudly enough to set off car alarms.  Manny's seen several of them scrape or bang into cars without bothering to stop -- and so he draws into himself the desperate need to hurry and finish a shift, the hulking size and diesel-fueled strength of the trucks, the cheerful pragmatism of the tough workers who chuck heavy bags and kick rats with unflappable equanimity.  And as Manny runs at the gate, the world blurs a little and an eyewatering stench surrounds him, and he finds it almost impossible to care about collateral damage because he's got a job to do, come on, come on, let's go...

     He remembers enough of himself to dip his shoulder a little as he hits the gate.  It only looks like wood; underneath, there's plenty of metal, and he sees that the gate has an electronic number-lock.  Probably pretty solid.  But his supernaturally-powered shoulder smashes the gate wide open, actually cracking the whole frame in half, too, and part of the fence beyond it.

     Oops.  Well, he'll make a donation on the website, because now that he's through the gate he sees:  THE DELACOURTE THEATER WELCOMES YOU TO SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK.

     Tendril Guy is running down the steps of what Manny now sees is a huge open-air amphitheater.  He leaps again, a pretty impressive standing jump onto the stage -- and then he stops abruptly.  There's a set being deconstructed here; Shakespeare in the Park only runs during the summer months, so someone's in the middle of stripping gigantic rolls of fake grass off the stage floor.  And now, from within a huge prop built to look like a small apartment building, the avatar of New York steps forth to confront their enemy.

     He's calling himself "Neek," these days -- a phonetic pronunciation of the initials for New York City.  He hasn't told them his real name.  Manny's not sure it matters anyway; doesn't Manny, of all people, understand that they are no longer who they were?  The knowledge and joy and danger of eight million people has found its focus in Neek, and like any of their fellow great cities, this makes him strange.  São Paulo was the same, whenever Manny had time and peace enough to study him: a young-old man who radiated urbane cynicism and eerie wisdom all at once.  Hong Kong too.  Maybe this is the difference between those who represent boroughs or neighborhoods, and those who are whole cities in themselves. 

     Or maybe it's just Neek.  "Yo, man, take a breath," he says to Tendril Guy, as he slouches out of shadow.  "Touch some, uh, astroturf.  You keep letting that shit run you, won't be anything of you left."

     Tendril Guy immediately turns to run, but by this point Manny has reached the other side of the stage.  Veneza is in the ampitheater, trotting toward them from the other direction, and from somewhere backstage they can hear Padmini cursing and shoving something heavy aside, because apparently backstage is a mess amid the set breakdown.  Unless Tendril Guy can fly -- and Manny puts nothing past the Woman in White -- then he's got nowhere left to run.

     It's a dangerous time, though.  In the past, whenever they've cornered one of her minions...  Tendril Guy backs up, looks around, starts to get tense.  Manny tries to think up a construct, and finds himself looking around.  At the stage.

     Neek's gaze flicks to him, and the little smile on his face widens.

     "Two cities," he declares suddenly, spreading his arms wide and raising his voice.  The Delacourte's acoustics are perfect, of course, designed to facilitate an outdoors theatrical performance.  "Both alike in dignity!  In fair Manhattan where we lay our scene."

     Of course the theater absorbs this slightly-fudged homage, echoes it, amplifies it, and sends back a reverberation of energy:  the faint murmurs and anticipation of a crowd, a lilt of music from a nonexistent orchestra.  For just a fleeting moment Manny can almost see the suggestion of bodies in the amphitheater seats, shadowy heads that turn to each other or crane their necks or flip through Playbills.  Ready to be enraptured.

     Manny finds himself grinning -- but then he panics a little as Neek raises his eyebrows pointedly, because Manny doesn't have any Shakespeare memorized.  But Broadway is only a few dozen blocks away; maybe he can use that instead?  He sifts quickly through the grab-bag of random quotes in his head. Can't think of an actual line from an actual play, but it's a direct reference, so he clears his throat awkwardly and sings:  "They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway.  There might be city magic in the air."

     Stage lights, multihued but mostly white, appear above the seats.  The lights aren't real. Manny can see most of the lighting equipment disassembled and stacked up to one side of the stage. Tendril Guy flinches suddenly and violently, staggering back.  Steam rises as Tendril Guy raises his arms defensively, the tendrils on him whipping and hissing wildly as the city's light begins to burn them away.

     They have to keep it going.  Veneza giggles and runs down the steps, leaping to a crouch as if she's acting out some play or another, and sings, "Now is the time to seize the day!  Answer the call and don't delay!  New York can be righted, boroughs united; let us seize the day!" In response, loose cables curled on one side of the stage suddenly come to life, whipping around Tendril Guy's legs to keep him from running again.

     One of the doors on the prop building slams open dramatically. Beyond it they can see Padmini pushing aside a rack of clothing that persistently keeps trying to roll toward her.  She manages it, stumbles out, and glowers around at all of them.  Veneza gestures frantically for her to take up the thread; Neek spreads his hands too in the universal sign of Come on, hurry up.  Finally, with a little growl, Padmini snaps, "Oh, fine.  'Immigrants:  We get the job done!'" This doesn't seem to have any effect at first, but then Padmini shoves a large, heavy-looking wooden desk out of the way with ease; she's much stronger, now. Enough to get this job done.

     As performances go, it's all terrible.  Slapdash, random, corny; Manny won't be surprised if in the morning they all receive a clipped-out review from a theater magazine that exists only in some alternate reality, panning all of them for defiling the stage.  But as a construct, drawing on the power of three boroughs and the delight of a thousand audiences, from the Delacourte to the Fringe Festival and back, it's exactly what they need. 

     Then, his voice muffled by his own extradimensional growths, Manny hears Tendril Guy -- or maybe the guy within the pelt of tendrils -- try to speak.  "A-all the w-world..." he murmurs, his voice thick, too deep, flanged in a way that sounds like bad special effects.  He's steaming all over, now.  Ah, and at last Manny sees the tendrils burning away, peeling off and curling into nothingness.  As he lowers his arms, Manny sees that he's sweaty-faced and visibly exhausted... but he is smiling.  He turns to face the whispering, flickering audience, and all at once Manny can feel him.  Tendril Guy is part of New York, again -- and he knows it, and some part of his soul rejoices with the knowledge.  Probably helps that the guy is a former theater kid himself; Manny can feel that, now that the Enemy's influence has been broken. Neek grins at Manny; he can feel it, too.

     So then Neek goes over to Tendril Guy, leans close, and blows on the now-shriveled cord attached to the back of his neck.  It snaps free as if Neek's breathed fire onto it, uttering a faint creel of inhuman pain -- and then the cord is snatched away upwards, into the darkening evening sky.  Manny catches a fleeting hint of sinuous movement against the clouds, southward, and then it is gone.

     Tendril Guy, who is now just Some Guy, beams at Neek.  Then he steps back and lifts a finger.  "All the world's a stage," he says again -- clearly this time, in a pleasant baritone, projecting with the ease of long practice.  "And all the men and women merely players!  They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."

     He does the whole monologue then, perfectly.  Not that Manny would know if he got it right -- but the Delacourte does, and as Manny glances out at their whispery audience, he sees smiles, hears soft "ahs" and giggles of approval with every precisely-enunciated line.  As Some Guy finishes, applause breaks out, echoing with unreality but loud and enthusiastic.  The artist formerly known as Tendril Guy beams in delight and extends his hands for Manny and Neek to take.  They do.  Padmini, her pique fading now that she's no longer fighting furniture, shakes her head and takes Neek's hand; Veneza giggles and runs up the steps to take Manny's.  The applause goes on as, uh, Theater Guy leads them in first one bow, and then another.  Someone in the audience whistles.  Someone else yells "Encore!"  It's intoxicating.  They bow a third time.  As at last the applause fades and the lights start to go dark... Theater Guy collapses, between them.

     "Oh, no," Veneza says, her delight vanishing.  "Please, not again -- "

     "He's fine," Manny says, crouching by Theater Guy, though he checks Theater Guy's neck-pulse and breathing just to be sure.  It's there, though the guy's skin is clammy with sweat.

     "Close," Neek says.  He's looking up at the sky, after the ugly cable that had been attached to the guy's neck.

     It's only the second time that they've successfully rescued one of these agents of the Woman in White, sent forth from her bastion in Staten Island to... well, Manny's not exactly sure what their purpose is.  Are they superspreaders meant to reinfect the city, and thus help her regain the foothold that she lost three months before?  Are they drones of a sort, reconnoitering enemy territory?  Either way, the result is always the same, if Manny and his fellow avatars don't catch the tendril-bearer and cleanse them in time:  the person burns out and dies, all of their strength used up by the alien intelligence that has worn them like a puppet.

     Not this time, though.  "Let's get him outside," Manny says, grunting as he pulls Theater Guy up.  "Easier for an ambulance to get to him out there."

     "But what about after?" Padmini asks.  She comes over to help him wrestle the guy into a sitting position, so that Manny can pull him into a fireman's carry.  "Uff, he's heavy!  But if somebody calls his family and they take him back to Staten Island, will she just take him over again?  What if she's mad at him for getting caught by us?"

     "It's fine," Neek says.  He's still turned away from them, facing southward.  There is an odd note in his voice, however, which makes Manny frown at his back.  Neek sounds... distracted.  "Most of the folks on Staten are fine.  The ones who commute here lose their little wigglers when they step off the ferry, unless they've got one of those bigger cable-things attached to them.  Grow 'em back on the after-work ride.  They don't even notice."

     "Remember what it was like when she was all over the city," Manny adds.  "All those people she... infected.  She used them if she needed them and ignored them otherwise.  They became part of her, but they didn't seem to mean anything to her, any more than..."  He shakes his head, to the degree that he can with Theater Guy on his shoulders.  "Individual hairs on a person's head.  How often do we notice when we lose one, or when it grows back?"

     "We shouldn't let him go back at all," Padmini says, scowling.  "We know she's doing something to all those people.  He's safer here!"

     Neek focuses enough to turn and eye her over his shoulder.  His tone is mild and his expression neutral, but his words have a sharp point.  "You gonna spring for an apartment for him somewhere?  Let him go crash with ya auntie and the fam?"

     "No, but -- "

     "I know a good spot under the Williamsburg."  Neek's relentless.  "Probably still good even with all the cleanup and construction since the bridge broke.  Warm on cold nights, hard to see so the kids and assholes don't fuck with you.  We could dump him there."

     Padmini sets her jaw.  "Fine.  Point made.  But Staten Islanders are still people, and we should try to help them."

     Veneza, who was peering into the orchestra pit in fascination, turns back to them, plainly uneasy at the tension she's picking up.  "We are.  But I mean, Pads... that's not really our job."

     Now they all fall into an uncomfortable silence, because sometimes the truth is hard.  And the truth is that the avatar of Staten Island is not here with them today because she has rejected them, and thrown her people to the interdimensional wolves by doing so. They are all of them New York... but they are not Staten Island, not anymore. Theater Guy's ultimate fate isn't theirs to make.

     "Ay yo fuck that bird," Neek says, scowling at Veneza, who blinks in surprise.  "Her and Squigglebitch tried to kill us, remember?  Tried to eat you.  Let Staten Island die."

     Padmini stares at him.  "Wait.  What?  Let a whole borough die?  Are you crazy?"

     "Fuck them."  Neek gestures sharply, southward.  "Everyone on Staten Island.  Buncha racist redneck Republican dumbasses, nobody needs them.  They're the reason she's still here, hanging over this city like a fucking guillotine.  I'm tired of stressing about this shit!  Let her flyover country ass die with the rest of them nobody-nothing sons of bitches."

     Manny flinches, despite himself.  That's beyond harsh.  And something about this little rant feels... off.  He's known Neek for all of three months, but in that time Neek has been a quiet and low-key leader of their group, unusually even-keeled for the personification of a city known for its aggression.  Are you okay?  rises to Manny's lips, but he refrains from saying it, aware that it could sound patronizing.  He's wondering it, though.

     All at once different lights snap on within the theater -- not stage lights, but all the rest. Padmini frowns at this.  "Hey, we don't need these anymore.  Which one of you -- "

     Abruptly a piercing electronic alarm sounds throughout the theater, and the lights all turn a startling, awful red.

     "What the shit?"  Neek says.  He blinks as if dazed, turning to stare up at the lights -- and then he stiffens.  "Manny.  You doing that?"

     Manny can barely hear him over the noise.  "No, why would I?  Can't you stop it?"  Neek is New York.  He has better control over the city's power than any of them... but all of a sudden, the city feels strange. Sluggish and reluctant, when Manny gently urges it to shut off the alarm. It's responsive, but unreliable and slow in a way Manny's never noticed before.

     And to Manny's surprise, Neek takes a step back, his very posture radiating unease.  "I... can't.  Nothing's happening. What the fuck."  He shakes his head.

     "Yo, uh, we should go," Veneza says, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet.  "If that's a break-in alarm -- I mean, we did break in, but -- "

     The Delacourte sits the middle of Central Park, in one of the city's toniest neighborhoods, and is the site of one of its most popular attractions.  "Out," Manny snaps, when it becomes clear that Neek has been so thrown by the situation that he's not reacting quickly enough. "Now."

     Veneza's already moving, running to the edge of the stage.  Manny follows her as quickly as he can with Theater Guy, and Padmini grabs Neek, dragging him along when he doesn't move fast enough.  "Cover your faces!" she cries -- and, yeah, if the city's magic suddenly isn't helping them anymore, that's a good idea.  But Manny can't, unless he wants to drop Theater Guy, who's been through enough.

     There are people milling around in front of the Delacourte, mostly looky-loos reacting to the continuous beeeeeeep of the alarm, but Manny sees how many of them have smartphones in hand.  It can't be helped.  He crouches and carefully sets Theater Guy on a patch of soft grass, and catches the eye of an older lady who is staring at all of them.  "Call 911," he says, with as much urgency as he can.  They can't stop people from filming them fleeing the scene of an apparent break-in, but maybe the sight of someone in distress will distract most of the onlookers.  "This man is hurt and needs an ambulance.  I don't know what happened to him, he just collapsed."

     The lady gasps and starts punching at her phone.  Veneza grabs Manny, tugging so he'll leave Theater Guy there on the ground.  He doesn't want to.  If the cops arrive first, there's a strong chance they'll arrest Theater Guy for the break-in.  If he could just make sure the paramedics arrive first, and that the cops think the alarm is just a mechanical error...  He touches the ground next to his knee and reaches into it, groping for the feel of city power --

     He finds echoes of old audience frustration and annoyed staff and prematurely shutdown vendor services... but these energies will not move in response to his will. What's there feels different from all the other times he's ever used city power -- clotted, somehow. 

     "Dude," Veneza says, giving him a hard yank.  They can hear sirens outside the park, coming closer.  "Come on, man, I ain't doing Rikers for you!"

     Grinding his teeth in frustration, Manny lets Veneza pull him away. They book it for Central Park West again, zigging southward first since there are woods and rock hills in that direction that can obscure their route for anyone trying to put them on TMZ.

       In their wake, the Delacourte's alarm blares until sirens drown it out.

TWWM Deleted Scene 1 by N. K. Jemisin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

[surra-de-bunda]

June Mack in Scoop Magazine No 12 (1983).

The Mistress of Hollywood

June Mack was June Cassandra Mincher. Born in Louisiana in January 1955. Eighth child in a family of dirt-poor, hardscrabble, ex-sharecroppers. Food was always in short supply. Love and affection were non-existent. June grew up ignored and forgotten. She retreated to a fantasy world. Took refuge in TV re-runs of old movies. Harlow. Lombard. Monroe. Vampy, trampy blondes. Women with smooth skin and pointed noses. A southern Black girl didn’t have the luxury of idols that looked like her. Then June hit puberty. She got curves, got noticed, and got options. Suddenly life happened. No more hopping tables at the local Hi-D-Ho. She got attention and exploited it. She parlayed it into cash the most old-fashioned way. She took control on the vinyl tuck and roll, pleasing the light-skinned boys she barely even knowed. Her new found power bought a one-way greyhound ticket out of the south. Double time. As fast as shit through a goose. She had one destination in mind. Hollywoodland. Home of the movie princesses she loved. She grabbed a lease on a small apartment and a part-time job as a nurse. She sprung for a new wardrobe. A different kind of clothing. Attire that would get noticed. She placed an ad in the underground newspaper. “Sexy Black & Indian. 56-26-42. Private Apt. Come Worship My Body. Call Raven. Generous Men Only.” She took clients. The bucks rolled in before the first month’s rent was due. But June had greater ambition than being a part time nurse, part time sex worker, full time dreamer. She wanted to be someone. She wanted a whole new identity. Several of them in fact. At one point, she had at least 33 aliases. June Mack was just one. Her face and body had to change. Not just for the johns, but to erase every detail from where she came. She spent $20k on cosmetic surgery. Quacks pumped silicone into her face, hips, cheeks. She bought a pointed nose just like her idols, and a chin to match. She expanded her chest to a blouse-busting 66 inches. The new June emerged. She stood out in any company.

[honeyfizzly]

Quick analysis Mahiru's birdcage and it's connections to fashion and literature.

Firstly, let's start on the fashion connections- alot of fashion brands use birdcages in their advertisement and products

Often times the birdcage is meant to show these women as "lavish" and luxurious. Same with presenting items in birdcages.

Also, it seems mahiru's earings are based chanel's birdcage earrings, except the birds are inside the cage instead of flying away.

Mahiru's music video is heavily tied to fashion and magazines, so I doubt this is a coincidence.

Also birdcages in painting and literatures are used to represent a women trapped by a relationship.

Both women seem to have affluent lives, but the birdcages are meant to symbolize how they're trapped by the men in their life and financially dependant on them.

This trope is popular enough to gain its own TV tropes page

Mahiru's birdcage is gorgeous, with intricate designs and has a whole living room but she stills longingly looks out of her cage at times. I don't think it's a stretch to apply the symbolism from both the fashion magazines (being lavish) with literatures and paintings (being trapped).

Also if I see Mahiru wearing an birdcage veil in "I love you" I'm gonna fucking lose it

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

the french exit | chapter 01

kylian mbappé x original female character [+18]

synopsis: alice is a lonely rich girl whose biggest fear is to become a lonely rich woman. ever since they moved to paris, her fiancé doesn’t seem to be interested in her anymore. so alice decides to find comfort in the arms of another man. warnings: cheating; angst; smut; i have never been to france; minors dni.

masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 01 | Blank Space

“'Cause we're young, and we're reckless

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless”

Alice Morgan-Webber is a classic Ralph Lauren blonde girl. Summer at the Hamptons. Kate Moss poster on her wall. Her father owns a hotel chain and is the CEO of a company specialized in luxury goods. Her mother is a fashion designer. Alice is an only daughter and heir to an American dream empire. Her highschool sweetheart boyfriend, David, proposed to her in the summer. Their families have been friends for generations and when their mothers got pregnant at the same time, they knew it was meant to be. His family have their own inspirational story about their generational wealth.                       

A couple months ago David got a job at his family's company's French headquarters, and now they’re living in Paris. It didn’t take long for Alice to get an internship in a fashion magazine – in fact, all it took was a phone call from her mother. The couple’s perfect french pronunciation and overall cool behavior made them a perfect match for the city of light.

Their European fairytale didn’t last longer than a month. Very quickly David got bored of playing house. He started to spend his nights and weekends away from their cozy luxury apartment, always with the excuse of being busy with work. That was expected, in a way, so Alice wasn’t exactly disappointed; but she was surprised, his lack of interest in the very first month was a disaster. They weren’t even married yet.

“Men are complicated, honey. But maybe he really is busy with work.” Her mother, Caroline, told her over the phone. David’s family owned a holding company that was currently in the process of starting to invest in a fashion brand – owned by Alice’s family. So her mother soothed her, told her to wait. It is in everybody's best interest if they could find a way to be happy together. “You’ll be married in the spring and everything will be perfect, dear. I promise. You just need to be a little less controlling.”

It was a destination wedding, in Greece. Her mother would design her dress, of course. On her left hand she was wearing David’s grandmother’s ring. A colossal diamond that felt heavier every time he left the house without making eye contact. “Bye, love.” His strong voice, that once made her legs shake, now made her nauseous. He could at least look at her when saying goodbye, right? That wasn’t too much to ask, right? Alice thought to herself. 

Part of Alice’s job included getting invited to luxury brands promotional parties, the kind she was already used to. But this time was different, she was working. Alice was supposed to post pictures of the event on social media and later report it to her boss. How the food tasted, was the music any good, what kind of celebrities showed up. It was a sports brand, so there were a few french athletes present – one specifically caught Alice’s attention. Kylian. She saw him in person before, in another one of those parties long before she moved to Paris. Back then David was present, a possessive hand around her waist. Warning her of the depraved behavior of football players. Now she was alone and Kylian was staring right back at her.

Later she would have a hard time recalling the food and the music; the French football player was the only thing on her mind the whole time. They were formally introduced at some point, he graciously shook her hand.

“Beautiful ring.” His eyes were on her left hand. She blushed.

“Thank you.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“In the spring.”

Quickly and smoothly, without anybody else seemly noticing, he whispers in her ear:

“So I still have some time.”

Alice laughs and nods at him, still blushing. They don’t talk for the rest of the evening, but when she comes home she gets a notification on her phone that makes her heart beat faster: k.mbappe just liked your post / k.mbappe just followed you. He answers one of her stories; it is a picture of her living room, beautifully decorated solely for the purpose of impressing her future in-laws. 

k.mbappe you have good taste 

alicemwebber thank you

k.mbappe i’m a buying a new apartment need help with the decor you should visit give me some tips

Kylian’s new apartment was just outside of busy Paris; it was modern and spacious, and smelled brand new. There wasn’t a lot of furniture or items that identified the owner, so Alice felt like he wasn’t entirely lying to her. Who knows how many times he used that trick, but Alice didn’t need a very convincing excuse. She just wanted to see him, to be in the same room completely alone with him and to feel desired by him. Her lust was aggravated by her anger. In her messed up head, what she was doing felt like revenge. 

“So, what do you think?” He was standing behind her, so much taller than her. His perfume was intoxicating and she was fighting her own brain, trying to keep herself focused.

“It’s a really nice place, but it needs more… Personal touches.” She guides her right hand to his, without even looking, her thumb slowly caressing him. Kylian takes a step closer to her, his body now fully flushed against her. He holds her hand and rests his head on top of hers.

“I agree. Like I said, you have good taste.” He gives her a soft kiss on the cheek. “That’s why I invited you.” He continues to softly kiss her face, lowering his kisses down to her neck. “Are you going to help me?” Their bodies are even closer and she can feel he’s getting hard behind her.

“Yes, I will. Whatever you need.” As she says that he puts both of his hands on her hips, pushing her back onto himself, making her feel him.

“Whatever I need? Are you sure?”

Alice nods, and when she opens her mouth to properly answer him, he kisses her. She turns around, holding him by the neck. The kiss feels like a perfect match. They instinctively know exactly where to touch each other, their tongues know the exact moves. Their breaths and the small noises of pleasure Alice makes echoes in Kylian’s almost empty living room.

“Do you own a bed, at least?” She asks, face still close, afraid of moving away from him and breaking the spell. Kylian laughs warmly.

“I do own a bed, yes. Let me show it to you.”

He guides her to the bedroom while still kissing her. By the time they lay in bed together half of their clothes were already forgotten along the way. She’s lying on her back and he’s towering over her, he already feels big just standing over her, looking at her. His body is warm, he’s kissing her like he’s in a hurry. A real man. Wanting her, tasting her. Paying attention to her. She surrendered herself to him. Alice tries to take off his pants but he holds her hands above her head. She stops the kiss.

“Please. Please.” She guides her hand once again to his jeans. Kylian sits on the bed and brings Alice onto his lap.  He takes her left hand and bites the side of the finger with her engagement ring. Alice moans. “Do you like that?” He whispers in her ear, she eagerly nods in agreement.

“I like it too.” He kisses her finger. “I also like knowing I only had to ask you once.”

“You’re being mean.” Alice takes the rest of her own clothes off, tired of waiting for him. Kylian laughs. His eyes shining bright give Alice butterflies. He looks beautiful like that, horny and teasing her. She feels lucky to get to experience it.

“I’m being mean?” He gets up and holds both of her legs, carefully making her seat at the end of the bed. Then he pulls her legs apart and admires the view of her dripping wet core. “Alright, let me be nice to you, then.” He gets on his knees and starts kissing her feet, almost in a devotional manner. He continues his kisses up, firmly holding her legs. After what it feels like forever he finally kisses her cunt. Kylian can’t help moaning with her. She tastes amazing and he can’t get enough. She cums screaming his name even before he puts his fingers on her. “What about now? I’m still mean to you, baby?” Alice is laying on her back again and he’s fingering her roughly.

“Ye–yes, yes, you are.” She’s stuttering, can’t control her voice when she’s so close to another orgasm. On her third orgasm she has his cock inside of her. She’s on all fours and his hand is holding her hair, keeping her head up. Her mouth is open, her moans somehow still getting louder.

“You’re so big.” Alice mumbles, eyes closed, feeling full and satisfied. Kylian is proud, both from her words and the state he managed to get her.

“You should always feel like this, baby.” He’s still behind her, but they’re both on their knees in the middle of the bed, his hand never leaving her hair. “It’s what a pretty girl like you deserve.” He kisses her shoulder and neck, restraining himself from biting her.

Later, after she showers, he politely offers for her to stay. She can’t, of course, and he knows. At the apartment door, kissing goodbye, she says:

“There’s a lot of work to be done in this place, don’t you think?”

He agrees, grinning at her. “You should come often, I need all the help you can give.”

***

David doesn’t know anything about football, but loves talking about it. It never bothered Alice before, she used to find it amusing; his lack of knowledge over tactics or stats. It used to be cute, even. They were at a private box in Parc des Princes, together with some of David’s work colleagues and a potential client. The guy was a family man and a PSG fanatic, so David decided to take his lovely bride to a football match in hope of luring the French millionaire into doing business with him. Alice is nauseous the entire time. She deserves it, she thinks. Maybe this is God punishing her somehow. Still, she has her eyes on Kylian the entire time.

“Alice, are you feeling good?” David asks her, his hand on her back. Her head is spinning. God, why is he being so thoughtful.

“I… I don’t think so.”

Alice sort of disassociates, only fully regaining her consciousness after she throws up a couple times at the Saint-Germain lounge bathroom. David is by her side, holding her hair. His action only made her more nauseous, reminding her of a few nights before.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” 

Her fiancé asks and she weakly slaps him.

“How can you ask me that this way?” Alice is angry, but her voice is weak. David laughs, brushing her hair off her face and kissing her forehead.

“Well, there’s still a few months till the wedding. I want you to look good in your dress.”

Alice stares at him in shock, trying to gain courage to ask him what she really wants to know. To tell him how she feels. It was the first time he even mentioned the wedding in weeks.

“Do you really? You still think about our wedding?”

“Of course, love. Where’s this coming from?”

Her hair is a mess and her make up ruined, they’re both still sitting on the bathroom floor and Alice feels like this is the lowest so far in their relationship. David's tone of voice makes her feel like she’s delirious. Maybe she overreacted. She should have asked him sooner.

“I feel like you don’t want me anymore.” She’s fully crying and David tries to dry her tears, confused. He takes out a handkerchief embroidered with his initials and hands it to her.

“What? Love, that’s not true. How can you say that?”

“I’m sorry I ruined your business meeting.” Alice says in between sobs. David shakes his head.

“You didn’t ruin anything. It’s actually a pretty good look for me, coming to help you.” He chuckles. A few minutes later, Alice recomposes herself, quickly fixing her hair and make up. When they walk out, holding hands, it is like nothing happened.

“Oh, look, Messi scored!” David points at one of the Tv’s on the lounge. Back home, getting ready to bed, Alice tries to initiate a kiss but he points a finger on her lips.

“Love, you threw up today.” He looks at her with disgust.

“Are you serious? I’m feeling better, you psycho.”

“Well, let’s wait a few more hours. Just to make sure.”

On her phone there’s a new notification. An answer to her stories on the stadium. It was a group picture, David had his arm around her, kissing her cheek.

k.mbappe  enjoyed the game?

alicemwebber not really wasn’t feeling well had to leave early

k.mbappe  feeling better now?

David was sound asleep beside her, she stared at him for a while before answering.

alicemwebber yes much better

[jmdbjk]

A sleeping giant.

The months of Jimin’s absence are finally revealing what he’s been up to.

From the W Korea article: 

"Jimin begins to leap in the air on a sizable mattress surrounded by flowers, bouncing up and falling backwards countless times; every movement he makes recalls his graceful performance onstage; Jimin, who studied dance at an arts high school, doesn’t simply jump. Instead, he rises and appears to float in the air for an instant. The camera captures the fleeting seconds of his flight...

...Jimin casts a giant’s shadow on a large backdrop."

The hoi polloi (actually most were people who are more wealthy than we are and were invited to this fashion shindig) were getting pushed out of the way so Jimin could enter the building. MOVE OUT OF THE WAY PEASANTS, ROYALTY IS COMING THROUGH!

Commanding without even being conscious of it. 

As I was browsing Getty Images, I noticed a lot of the other guests posing for the cameras as they arrived...trying to get their moment in the flashing cameras... and there were a lot of special guests from the fashion and entertainment industries. And all Jimin wanted to do is get the heck inside the building ...fuck posing, where’s my Hobi-ah?

I could talk about the actual fashion show but I'm not sure if anyone is interested. All eyes are on Jimin. 

I should probably know who that shaggy white guy is sitting behind them but I could care less... but he sure was trying to figure out who those two young men in front of him were...

If I may, a few of my thoughts on this particular Dior menswear collection is that the silhouettes were so voluminous... shapeless really... especially the pants. They were like that in the Louis Vuitton show as well. Not a fan of billowy, wide-leg pants on men (you know how I feel about tight pants...I’m sure I’ve mentioned it a time or two). There were a lot of skirt/skort/kilt pleated type bottoms. Lots of tweed. Beautifully draping fabrics as usual. Flowy thingy details. And those rubber boots. The sounds those had to have made as the models strode around the backdrop to the narration of whatever that was ... The vibe was outdoorsy (which is what we know the summer collection was inspired by) and the ambience was... well... British country? Hoity toity quail hunting? With a dash of impracticality? Those flowy thingys are sure to get all muddy as you drag them behind you walking through that bog. 

However, there were a few pieces that stood out for me because of the texture and silhouette:

That ribbed sweatery texture looks very cozy and luxurious.

The tweed (or pattern) is classic and that jacket and pants look like something that could be tailored well for Jimin. I could see Jimin wearing either of those pieces. The bucket hats were sort of oversized (Jungkook would love them).

I love that Hobi attended the Dior show and was able to be a familiar face for Jimin. It made me feel better that he was there.

I can imagine Hobi oohing and aahing as the models went by... and Jimin trying not to giggle at him (being at his core ‘my goofy friend in sweatpants who loves soju…’) and Hobi is decked out head to toe in Dior as well.

Between the Dior show coverage and the WKorea magazine article, my poor brain is overwhelmed.

I wonder if Dior is aware of the unicorn it scored at its Menswear Fall ‘23 show... the presence of Jimin AND Hobi.... no other fashion house may ever get that lucky. 

And now the Vibe making-of video.

I commented not too long ago about when I thought the Vibe MV had been filmed and my guess was late August...and I was WRONG WRONG WRONG! Lo and behold! in the Vibe making video! Jimin's hair is blonde! under that beanie! when he and Taeyang are prepping for the video! The only time we've seen a hint of blonde Jimin was Jin's enlistment day DECEMBER 13!. Look closely, blonde hair peeking out from under Jimin’s beanie:

This little Vibe making video also showed me the friendship between Jimin and Taeyang and knowing that Jimin was influenced in his youth by Taeyang makes me understand more clearly why Jimin is not afraid and wants to be naked for us:

So I am here to thank Taeyang for that. 

[indeedgoodman]

🐐

[dcextra]

ShinRan Archives: Ran Mouri

Transcribed w/ machine translation

強くて優しい、新一の幼なじみ Shinichi's strong and kind childhood friend

毛利蘭 CV:山崎和佳奈 Mouri Ran CV: Wakana Yamazaki

長い髪にすらりとした手足。表情豊かで愛くるしい瞳は、いつも気になるアイツを探しているー幼なじみの工藤新一に恋する女の子、毛利蘭。見た目と裏腹に、空手の技で勇ましく戦うことも多い。その心根は誰より優しく、笑った顔はとびきりキュート！けれど、新一が姿を消してからは、切なさが涙になってあふれ出す・・・。想いを胸の奥に秘めて、蘭は今日も、新一の帰りを待っている。家で預かる”コナン君”と一緒に。

Long hair and slender limbs. With her expressive and lovely eyes, she is always looking for someone to be interested in - Ran Mouri, a girl who is in love with her childhood friend, Shinichi Kudo. Contrary to her appearance, she often fights bravely using karate techniques. Her heart is kinder than anyone else, and her smiling face is incredibly cute! However, after Shinichi disappears, her sadness overflows in tears... Hiding her feelings deep within her heart, Ran is waiting for Shinichi's return today as well. She is with "Conan-kun" who is kept at home.

んふふっ・・・」 "Nfufu..."

楽しみだったロンドン観光！ホームズ博物館では、はしゃぐコナンに新一を重ねて自然と口元が緩んだ。テンションが上がると、新一に連絡したくなる！（６１６話）

I was looking forward to sightseeing in London! At the Holmes Museum, I saw Shinichi next to Conan, who was having fun, and my jaw dropped naturally. When I get excited, I want to contact Shinichi! (616 episodes)

かわいいものが大好き♥明るくキュートな天然娘 帝丹高校２年生、毛利蘭。明るく素直な性格で、涙もろいところがある。かわいいものやロマンチックなものが大好きで、お化けが大の苦手！そんなふうに守ってあげたくなる愛らしさを持ちながら、特技の空手で関東大会優勝を摑んだ実力者でもある。好奇心旺盛で、芸能・音楽・読書・スポーツと、多彩な趣味を持つ蘭。恋愛小説には興味津々！小五郎や園子のツテで、有名人との出会いも多い。また、スタイルが良くおしゃれな蘭は、雑誌の読者モデルや映画出演の声がかかることも。だが、周囲の男には目もくれず、幼なじみの帰りを健気に待っている。

I love cute things ♥ A bright and cute natural girl Mouri Ran is a second year student at Teitan High School. She has a bright and honest personality and is prone to tears. She loves cute and romantic things, and she hates ghosts! She has a loveliness that makes you want to protect her, but she is also a talented person who won the Kanto tournament with her special skill, karate. Ran is full of curiosity and has a variety of hobbies, including entertainment, music, reading, and sports. I'm very interested in her romance novels! She is a friend of Kogoro and Sonoko, and has many encounters with famous people. In addition, Ran, who has a good figure and is fashionable, has been asked to model for magazines and appear in movies. However, she ignores the men around her and waits patiently for her childhood friend to return.

お化け、妖怪、ゾンビ・・・怖いもの全般が苦手な蘭。棺桶の中に吸血鬼のような男がいるのを見てしまい、悲鳴を上げた。（７１２話） 豪華クルーザーの舳先に立ち、一度やってみたかった映画の名シーンを再現！両手を広げご満悦。（１７４話） 「探偵左文字」シリーズはTVドラマも原作の連載も追っている。（１１６話） パンダの着ぐるみパジャマはコナンとのペアルック。着ている姿を撮りたいのに、コナンには嫌がられた・・・。（４１７話） 好きな男の子の理想のタイプがわかるというラブリーみくじ。初めは半信半疑だったが、やっぱり気になっちゃうのが乙女心！（５９２話）

Ran doesn't like ghosts, monsters, zombies...all things scary. She saw a vampire-like man inside the coffin and she screamed. (Episode 712) 

Stand on the bow of a luxury cruiser and recreate famous scenes from movies you've always wanted to try! She spreads her arms and is pleased. (174 episodes) 

The ``Detective Samonji'' series follows both the TV drama and the serialization of the original work. (Episode 116) 

The panda costume pajamas are a pairing look with Conan. I wanted to take a picture of her wearing it, but Conan didn't want me to... (Episode 417) 

A lovely fortune teller that tells you the ideal type of boy you like. I was skeptical at first, but what I ended up being interested in was the girl's heart! (Episode 592)

面倒見がよくてみんなに優しい 誰に対しても親切で礼儀正しく、頼まれごとも積極的に引き受ける蘭。知り合ったばかりの相手にも、気持ちを汲み取ってさりげない優しさを見せる。家で預かっているコナンや少年探偵団の面倒をよく見て、姉のように慕われている。

She is very caring and kind to everyone.

Ran is kind and polite to everyone, and is willing to do whatever is asked of her. Even to those she has just met, she understands her feelings and shows casual kindness. She takes good care of Conan and the Detective Boys who are in her care at home, and is loved like her older sister.

保育園で、合ったばかりの新一に頼まれて、折り紙で作ったバッジに名前を書いて差し出した。（８５４話） 灰原が心を開いてくれなくても笑顔で看病。（３４０話） 訪れた屋敷で、コナンをお風呂に誘う。弟のように可愛がっているのだ。（５３２話） アトラクションを待つのに飽きた子供達を、クイズで楽しませる。（劇場版１０） 酔いどれの小五郎にキツいお説教。（ONE） 新幹線で動き回るコナンに指導！（５話）

At the nursery school, Shinichi, who I had just met, asked me to write my name on an origami badge and gave it to him. (Episode 854)

Even if Haibara doesn't open up to him, he nurses her with a smile. (340 episodes)

At the mansion he visited, he invited Conan to take a bath. She loves him like a younger brother. (Episode 532)

Entertain children who are tired of waiting for attractions with quizzes. (Movie version 10)

A harsh sermon to a drunken Kogoro. (ONE)

Instruct Conan as he moves around on the Shinkansen! (Episode 5)

毛利家をしっかり切り盛り 仕事を怠ける小五郎の尻を叩き、やんちゃ盛り（？）のコナンを優しく見守る蘭。家庭を巧みに取り仕切りながら、願うのは大好きな両親の復縁。別居中の二人を仲直りさせようと、いつも機会を窺っている。

Take good care of the Mori family

Ran spanks Kogoro who is lazy at work, and kindly watches over Conan, who is acting naughty. While skillfully managing her household, she wishes for her beloved parents to get back together. She is always on the lookout for an opportunity to reconcile the two who are living apart.

小五郎が英理に誕生日プレゼントを渡す場をセッティングするべく、福引きに挑む！毛利家がバラバラにならないのは、孝行娘・蘭のおかげだ。（５８９話） 「よーし！」

In order to set up a place for Kogoro to give Eri a birthday present, he takes on a lucky draw! It is thanks to Ran, the filial daughter, that the Mouri family has not fallen apart. (episode 589) "Alright!"

花嫁修業は完璧！？蘭の女子力検定 乙女の嗜み！？ 蘭の特技は空手だけにあらず！女の子らしいスキルも数多く身に付けている。新一と過ごす中で得た技も・・・。

Bride training is perfect! ? Ran's Feminine Power Test

Maiden's taste! ? 

Ran's special skills are not limited to karate! She has also acquired many girlish skills. The skills I learned while spending time with Shinichi…

蘭には、まだ早いっての！ （ケガの手当て）包帯を巻く慣れた手つきに医師も感心。ケガの多い新一のおかげで身についたとか。（１７１話） （編み物）英理に教わりながら難しいアラン模様のセーターを編み、新一にプレゼント。（１７１話） （ピアノ）少し見ただけでピアノソナタ「月光」の譜面だと気づき、その場で弾いてみせた。（１１話）

It's still too early for Ran!

(Treatment of injuries) Doctors were also impressed by the skill with which he applied bandages. He says he learned this thanks to Shinichi, who had a lot of injuries. (Episode 171)

(Knitting) While learning from Eri, she knits a sweater with a difficult Aran pattern and presents it to Shinichi. (Episode 171)

(Piano) After just looking at it, he realized that it was the sheet music for the piano sonata ``Moonlight,'' and he played it on the spot. (Episode 11)

家事センス抜群！ 別居中の母・英理に代わり毛利家を守ってきた蘭は、家事全般をそつなくこなす。学生とは思えない鍛え抜かれた手腕に、将来の旦那さんが羨ましくなる！

Excellent housework sense!

Ran, who has been protecting the Mori family in place of her mother, Eri, who is currently living away with her, handles all the household chores for her. Her future husband will be jealous of her well-trained skills, which makes it hard to believe that she is a student!

（買い物）今日の夕飯はステーキ！二丁目のスーパーはいい肉が早く売り切れてしまうと知っていて、急いで買いに行った。（２７０話） （家計管理）小五郎が無駄遣いしないよう、得られた依頼料から、飲み代のツケ、前借りの小遣い、２か月分の生活費をきっちり徴収した。（３３４話） （掃除）「掃除は上から」。掃除の手順とコツを園子にも伝授。（１００話） （料理）ロッジでバレンタインチョコを手作り。その味は新一も絶賛♥（２６６話） こんな時にも冴える腕前！ （偽レシピを）偽レシピを教えられたにも拘わらず、初めてのレモンパイは大好評の味に。（１００話） （吸血鬼館で）吸血鬼対策でニンニクたっぷり餃子作り。皮もお手製。（７１３話）

(Shopping) Today's dinner is steak! I knew that the second-chome supermarket would sell out of good meat quickly, so I hurried to buy it. (Episode 270)

(Household budget management) To prevent Kogoro from wasting his money, I collected the cost of drinks, advance allowance, and two months' worth of living expenses from the request fee. (episode 334)

(Cleaning) "Cleaning starts from above." He also teaches Sonoko the steps and tips for cleaning. (100 episodes)

(Cooking) Handmade Valentine's chocolate at the lodge. Even Shinichi praises the taste ♥ (Episode 266)

Skills that can be used even in times like these!

(Fake recipe) Despite being given a fake recipe, his first lemon pie turned out to be a hit. (100 episodes)

(At the Vampire Mansion) Make dumplings with plenty of garlic to prevent vampires. The leather is also handmade. (Episode 713)

幼なじみのお世話も・・・ 広い屋敷に一人で暮らす新一のことを気に掛け、何かと世話を焼いてきた蘭。推理に夢中になって生活が乱れがちな新一をサポートしているようだ。

Taking care of childhood friends... 

Ran is concerned about Shinichi, who lives alone in a large mansion, and has done everything he can to take care of him. She seems to be supporting Shinichi, whose life tends to be disrupted by his obsession with mystery.

新一が留守中の工藤邸を、園子と二人で訪れた蘭。この広い屋敷のお掃除は毎月の恒例行事と化している・・・！？（５１０話） 寝坊した新一に腹を立てつつ、家に上がって朝食の支度をした蘭。食器を洗い、食後にはコーヒーも出してくれる！（ONE） 散らかった新一の部屋を、掃除しにやってきた蘭。窓を開けて空気を入れ替え、枕は天日に干した。（OVA７）

Ran and Sonoko visit the Kudo residence while Shinichi is away. Cleaning this large mansion has become a monthly event...! ? (510 episodes)

Ran went home and prepared breakfast, angry at Shinichi for oversleeping. They wash the dishes and serve you coffee after your meal! (ONE)

Ran comes to clean Shinichi's messy room. He opened the window to get some air and let the pillow dry in the sun. (OVA 7)

乙女は心も強し！愛ある正義で立ち向かう 自分の信じる正義に従って、考えるより先に体が動く蘭。家族や友人はもちろん、たとえ相手が犯罪者でも、自分の身に危険が迫った状況においても、躊躇なく救いの手を差し伸べる。新一の言葉や信念が、そんな蘭の言動を後押ししている。

Maidens have strong hearts! Stand with loving justice

Ran's body moves before she thinks, according to what she believes in justice. He does not hesitate to offer a helping hand, not only to his family and friends, but even when he is in danger, even if he is a criminal. Shinichi's words and beliefs support Ran's actions.

車のトランクに隠れていた蘭は、銃口を向けられた灰原を庇うために飛び出す！拳銃を構えたベルモットに脅されても、灰原を抱き込んで決して離さなかった。（３４５話） イヤリング型ケータイで新一の指示を受け、推理ショーを始めた蘭。恩師が犯人という辛い真実に直面しても、最後まで探偵役をやり遂げた・・・。（８５話） 犯人と遭遇する危険を承知の上で、マンションに監禁された被害者の救出へ！（５１１話） 立てこもり犯の人質にされた極限状況で、警察による犯人の狙撃を阻止した。新一なら、誰も死なせずに解決する・・・そう信じているから。（６４９話）

Ran, who was hiding in the trunk of the car, jumps out to protect Haibara who has a gun pointed at him! Even when Vermouth threatened him with a pistol, he hugged Haibara and never let go. (episode 345)

Ran receives instructions from Shinichi using an earring-shaped mobile phone and begins a mystery show. Even when faced with the painful truth that her mentor was the culprit, she played the role of a detective until the end... (Episode 85)

Despite knowing the risk of encountering her criminal, he goes to rescue the victim who is imprisoned in an apartment! (episode 511)

In an extreme situation where he was held hostage by a burglar, he stopped the police from shooting the criminal. I believe that Shinichi will solve the problem without killing anyone. (649 episodes)

最強ヒロインは・・・引きの強さも天下一品！？ ゲーム、景品、抽選・・・ここぞという時に抜群の運の良さを見せる蘭。その博才は、ギャンブル好きな父親以上？

The strongest heroine is...the strength of her pull is unparalleled! ? Games, prizes, lottery tickets...Ran shows exceptional luck at critical moments. Is he even more knowledgeable than his father, who loves gambling?

（招待）有名人御用達のヨガスタジオの招待券を当て、園子を誘いダイエット合宿へ！（６３５話） （麻雀）教わってすぐトリプル役満を和了る。アーケードゲームでも快勝！（７５話） （天気）背番号１０をつけたてるてる坊主は、新一の大事なサッカーの試合を、ことごとく晴れにしてきた神アイテム！（３２５話） （福引き）両親の復縁のため！気合いを入れて米花商店街の福引きにチャレンジ。狙い通り、１等の豪華デイナー付きペア宿泊券を引き当ててニッコリ。（５８９話） （ポーカー）豪華クルーザーで平次も交じえてポーカー。強い役を揃えて連勝！（１７４話）

(Invitation) Win an invitation ticket to a yoga studio frequented by celebrities and invite Sonoko to a diet training camp! (635 episodes)

(Mahjong) Immediately after learning, I completed the triple role. Easy win at arcade games! (Episode 75)

(Weather) The rain boy who wears the number 10 on his back is a divine item that has made all of Shinichi's important soccer matches sunny! (Episode 325)

(Lucky draw) To get my parents back together! Gather your spirit and try the lottery at Beika Shopping Street. Just as I had hoped, I was all smiles when I won a first-class accommodation ticket for a pair of guests with a luxurious dinner. (episode 589)

(Poker) Poker with Heiji in a luxury cruiser. Consecutive wins with strong roles! (174 episodes)

「わたし新一が・・・だーい好き♥」 頬をほんのり染めて、新一の好きなところをコナンに打ち明ける蘭。新一本人にも、こうやって素直に伝えられたなら・・・！（ONE）

“I love Shinichi so much♥”

With a slight blush on her cheeks, Ran confesses to Conan what she likes about Shinichi. If only I could honestly tell Shinichi himself like this...! (ONE)

ずっと待ってるから早く帰ってきて！ 小さい頃から意地悪で、推理オタクだけど、いざという時は助けてくれる。蘭は、幼なじみ・新一のことが大好き！だけど新一は、事件にかまけて全然そばにいてくれない。新一を感じられるのは電話をメールだけで、束の間の再会はいつも突然。姿を見せない新一が危険な目にあっていないか心配で、もどかしさが募るばかり。強がっていても、時々涙がこぼれ落ちる。ロンドンで受けた告白には、まだ返事ができなくて・・・！

I've been waiting for you so please come back soon!

He's been mean since he was little and is a mystery nerd, but he'll help you in times of need. Ran loves her childhood friend Shinichi! However, Shinichi doesn't stay by her side at all because of the incident. The only time I can feel Shinichi is through phone calls and emails, and our fleeting reunions are always sudden. She's worried that Shinichi, who hasn't shown up, is in danger, and her frustration only grows. Even though I'm trying to be strong, sometimes tears fall. I haven't been able to reply to the confession I received in London yet...!

（大バカ推理之介をつい甘やかしちゃう） 新一の”推理バカ”っぷりを誰よりも知る蘭。デート中だからと事件を無視しようとした新一を、送り出してあげる。帰って来ると信じているから・・・。（１９２話） （どこにいても必ず見つけてくれるって信じてる） 海で溺れ、新一の姿に導かれる・・・。ピンチは必ず助けてくれる！（劇場版１７） （不意打ちの優しさにドキッ♥） 倒れた翌日、体調を心配してくれた新一。おデコで熱を計ろうとして顔が近くに・・・！（２８８話）

(I end up spoiling the idiot Mystery)

Ran knows Shinichi's "reasoning idiot" more than anyone else. Shinichi tries to ignore the incident because he's on a date, but he sends him off. Because he believes he will come back... (Episode 192)

(I believe you will find me no matter where I am)

She drowns in the sea and is guided by the sight of Shinichi... It will definitely help you in a pinch! (Movie version 17)

(I was shocked by the sudden kindness ♥)

The day after he collapsed, Shinichi was worried about his health. When I tried to measure the temperature with the forehead, my face was close...! (Episode 288)

（会えないのはやっぱり寂しい・・・） チョコに、そばにいない新一の名前を書けない・・・。自分の弱さに涙をこぼす。（２６８話） （新一のこと彼氏って言われるとアワアワ・・・） 駆けつけた警察官に新一は彼氏かと聞かれ顔が真っ赤に。慌てて否定するも、まんざらでもない！？（５１１話） （ハズかしくて素直になれない・・・） 園子に促されて電話するが、告白への返事は「す、す・・・」しか言えず・・・。（６９１話）

(It's really sad that we can't meet each other...)

I can't write Shinichi's name on chocolate because he's not by my side... I shed tears at my own weakness. (268 episodes)

(I get excited when people call Shinichi my boyfriend...)

When the police officer who rushed in asked if Shinichi was her boyfriend, his face turned red. Even if you deny it in a hurry, it's not a complete mistake! ? (episode 511)

(It's so embarrassing that I can't be honest...)

At Sonoko's urging, he calls her, but all he can say in response to her confession is "S-s...". (691 episodes)

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Shuuji Tanegashima

[PROFILE]

Birthday: May 29th (Gemini)

Blood Type: A

Birthplace: Kyoto

Relatives: Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, Mother, Younger Brother, Younger Sister, Parrot

Middle School: Maikozaka Junior High School (graduate)

High School: Maikozaka High School

Grade: Third Year

Committee: Biology Committee

Strong Subjects: Psychology

U-17 Training Camp Position & Rank: Second String | Court 1 (temporarily) ➜ First String | No.2

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “All things come from nothingness.”

Hobbies: Gun shooting games, cruising, playing the werewolf game [TP]

Favorite Color: Light Blue

Favorite Book: Fashion magazines where he’s on the cover

Favorite Food: Tebichi, gim (Korean seaweed)

Preferred Type: A girl he can have fun with at the Land of Dreams

Ideal Date Spot: A night pool

His Gift for a Special Person: “I’ll pick out a nice bag and outfit for you☆”

Where He Wants to Travel: Touring the Mediterranean Sea on a luxury cruise ship

What He Wants Most Right Now: Earplugs ➜ A Ninebot One Segway [23.5]

Dislikes: Airplanes, people not paying attention to him [TP]

Skills Outside of Tennis: Swimming, communicating with hand signs [TP], arranging blind group dates [TP]

Routine During the World Cup: Swimming in the hotel’s pool at night

[DATA]

Height: 184cm

Weight: 71kg

Dominant Arm: Right

Vision: 0.5 Left | 0.7 Right

Play Style: All-Rounder

Signature Moves: Nothing (name of his technique)

Favorite Brands:

Racket: MIZUNO F97 COMP

Shoes: MIZUNO WAVE TUSK3

Overall Rating: Speed: 5 / Power: 5 / Stamina: 5 / Mental: 7 / Technique: 6 / Total: 28

Kurobe Memo: “He is gifted with a wide field of vision and a good sense of intuition allowing him see through others’ weaknesses. He’s used to riding a Segway around, so his eyes are accustomed to moving at fast speeds. However, he is a bit of a moody person. He can improve a lot if he can be persistent enough to take matches seriously.”

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 10 | Publication Date: 10/04/2011

He is shown to be on the cover of Men’s Non-No, a fashion magazine for young men

The Prince of Tennis II 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 09/04/2013

He is from an island in southern Japan

He came to Tokyo by boat since he dislikes airplanes

While taking a walk with Kimijima, he was scouted by an agency and is now a reader model for magazines

The Segway he rides around the training camp is actually Kurobe’s

Konomi intended for him to be a dependable character and named him after the guns used in “Seven Samurai”

The Prince of Tennis II 23.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 05/02/2018

What’s in His Travel Bag: A snorkeling mask set // He brought Kurobe’s Segway as well

After the “Cessna Punishment”, he had been bedridden. The punishment had spurred his dislike of airplanes even further and now simply hearing the word “airplane” makes him anxious

He likes to give people nicknames. His nicknames so far: Ryoma “Ryoma-kichi”, Kirihara “Akafuku”, Kite “Kiteretsu”, Shiraishi “‘Nosuke”, Byoudouin “Chief”, Oni “Juu”, “Mr. Rabbit”, Kimijima “San-San”, Tohno “Atsu”, Ochi “Tsukki”, Bismarck “Bis-cchi”

He developed his dislike of airplanes when he was a child due to a toy airplane hitting him on the head while he was asleep

The Prince of Tennis 20th Anniversary Book: Tenipuri Party | Publication Date: 08/02/2019

He is described as a “flirt”

His ideal relationship is one where he and his partner focus on enjoying their time together

His catchphrase “chai” is a mispronunciation of “ciao” that he’s been saying since he was a child