#Mirage looks too cute in your style

[pinkanonwrites]

Thinking about the concept of cloth or soft things in general being considered luxury to cybertronians, and just imagining one using their holoform to enter a bedroom for the first time. There a big soft berth that sinks under their weight, an entire pile of warm insulating plush fabric, and even more small soft pads that they put their heads on! Could you imagine their reaction to a carpeted room? They even put soft things on the ground they walk on! It would be like looking at one of ridiculously luxurious mansions that are so loaded up with fancy things that it almost looks like a parody

This conjured up a little idea in me with ROTB Mirage, enjoy!

"Watch your shoulders on the-!"

CRUNCH

"...Door frame." So much for getting your deposit back. Mirage shot you a crooked grin, brushing some of the sheet-rock dust off of his shoulder pauldron.

"Sorry 'bout that, sweetspark. No big deal, you can patch that up no problem!"

When Noah had told you that Mirage was able to change his size you had only partially believed him. After all, according to his own stories, the Mirage that was barely larger than Noah in Peru had also had several significant pieces blasted off of his gargantuan frame. And yet, here he was. Fully repaired, mass-shifted to a mere seven-and-a-half feet tall. And sure, he still had to stoop to avoid taking out your ceiling fan. But here he was, in your meager apartment.

It was an equally unfamiliar locale for Mirage himself, having only caught peeks of your living quarters from the alleyway outside. The shag carpet was plush under his pedes, ridiculously soft to the touch. And sure, he'd owned a few of his own garments back in the Towers, in pre-war time, but it still paled in comparison to your room with its thick curtains, fluffy carpeting, and the dozen or so plush organic creatures littering your bed.

"Do you wanna listen to something? You can sit on the bed, if you want. You're probably too big for my desk chair." You were already rifling through your tapes, gesturing to the bed with your free hand and currently oblivious to Mirage's wide-optic stare. He took a careful seat on the edge and Primus, the entire mattress sunk and molded around his bulky frame. It was heavenly. He took one of your stuffed animals between his servos and squeezed, marveling at the squish.

"Man, I can't believe y'all live like this!" He laughed, draping himself backwards onto your bed with a warning creak. "It's comfy, that's for sure. But I don't think I could sleep on somethin' like this. It might swallow me up mid-recharge. And what's with all these little soft organics?"

"Says the guy who sleeps on the floor of a garage. I'd have aches in muscles I didn't even know existed." You pressed Talking Heads 'Speaking In Tongues' into the player with a familiar click, the beginning lick of Burning Down The House echoing through the tinny speaker as you flopped down next to Mirage. "And you're strangling Hello Kitty. They're cute, and soft, and that's kind of all there is to it? Kids like to play with them, too."

"Huh! Cute. Seems like your style. The whole hab seems like your style, actually. All soft and shit. " He handed you back your slightly-dented Hello Kitty, letting out a lazy ex-vent as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Well what should we do now?~ You got me all the way up into your berth, aren't you gonna do somethin' about it?"

You barked out a laugh, turning your head to see Mirage's playfully smarmy grin aimed down at you. "Was that your ploy? Show off your cool alien shape-shifting just so you could get in my bed?"

"That depends. Is it working?~"

"Maybe.~"

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language. jihoon is so in love it's probably unhealthy. wc: 1092

love triangle au requests

[who's this guy who's everything I'm not?] There is a universe out there where Lee Jihoon is able to say everything he wants to say, when he wants to say it, and exactly how he wants to say it.

But that universe isn't this one.

No, in this world, Lee Jihoon is standing like an idiot in front of the person he came all this way for, in a city he's never stepped foot before, with his mouth opening and closing like those dogs moviemakers would give peanut butter to to make them look like they're talking.

"Jihoon," you say, blinking as if it'll make the mirage he must be disappear. "Holy-- What are you doing here? When did you..."

From your open doorway, you tilt your head to take in Jihoon's appearance. Sweaty. Floundering, and yet with a determined furrow between his eyebrows.

His passport and boarding pass in hand, and a distinct lack of luggage.

"...Did you just fly in?"

He opens his mouth. Closes it again.

God damn it. He got on a plane for this and his tongue still doesn't work -- the same way it didn't when you asked who left the only valentine on your desk in eighth grade. The same way it didn't when your prom date ditched you for some girl, and you finally told Jihoon after his three weeks of torment that it was a ruse you and your date came up with to get that girl jealous all along. The same way it didn't when you told him you applied to a university in a city he'd never even heard of, and to your surprise but not his own because he knows you're capable of anything, you got in.

Today should be different. He clamours, "I-- I had to..."

"Where's your stuff?" you ask incredulously, but there's always... that behind your words. That which made him feel like he could trust you to watch his intricate sand castle in the playground. That which made him go to you with his first ever song lyrics in middle school, when no one else has ever seen them, ever. That which he feels vibrating in his bones or maybe even deeper because you care. You care when you go, "Do you literally only have the clothes on your back?" Even if it sounds blunt. "I swear you've had those shorts since forever. And-- wait, where are you staying? Have you eaten? You're always stupid about hydration, too."

He wants you to shut up so he can talk. But god, he loves when you tell him you care in the most words possible.

"I gotta put some water in you, hold on--"

You go to back up from the doorway. Jihoon's hand shoots out to grab your wrist before he can think about the fact that now that he has you in his grasp, he definitely has to speak.

Shit.

You process his hand around your wrist slowly, your eyes blinking slowly like a cat before they look up at his face. He loses all thoughts again.

Well, not all. It's more like his brain fills to the brim with how your eyes look when your face is this close, and it literally can't fit anything else, much less what to say next other than wow.

And he probably shouldn't say that.

But what... (the sunlight is hitting your irises so perfectly) ...should he... (even the concern seeping into your expression is cute) ...say...

"Jihoon--?"

Whatever question you're sure to have asked is cut off when a strong hand separates Jihoon's from your arm, and he breaks his gaze away from you to see a handsome but clearly unwelcoming face. The man regards Jihoon with a certain cautiousness as he wedges himself between you and him, almost pushing you back into your home with a protective arm.

"Are you okay?" he asks you, though he doesn't take his wary eyes off Jihoon. "Who's this?"

You seem a little thrown off. "Uhh..."

Jihoon looks this man up and down, taking in his white tank top and the buff, tan arms that it shows off. His cropped hair isn't styled, but somehow it looks good on him anyway. He's tall.

Annoyingly tall, because to see you, Jihoon has to lean to the side rather than just look over Tank Top's shoulder.

"Who's this?" Jihoon asks right back.

You meet his eyes and come back to the here and now. "Right, uh." Poking your finger into the man's stupid naked bicep, you point at him. "This is Mingyu, my--"

Tank Top interrupts you with, "Husband," as soon as you say, "--roommate."

Your pointed hand transforms into a fist, and you punch it into Tank Top Mingyu's arm. "Hey," you say when he recoils, covers the apparently instantly sore spot, and pouts at you. "I'm fine-- He's an old friend."

But Jihoon can't really focus on that. He's too busy processing.

...

...

...

Husband?

"This is Jihoon," your voice says from somewhere far away. "I've probably mentioned him before."

"Oh." Tank Top straightens up, and after faltering for only a second, his eyes brighten like your words flipped a light switch. "That Jihoon?" He turns towards Jihoon. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry! I just thought, I mean, you know..."

This new Mingyu acts like one of those golden retriever boys from the internet.

You love dogs.

Fuck.

Puppy Mingyu holds out his hand to shake.

Jihoon just stares at it. Then looks at you.

"Husband?"

You shove your way back in front of Mr Sunshine and lightly touch Jihoon's arm. He can barely breathe. "No, no, that was just... I mean, well, kind of-- but also not really because, well..." Pausing, you think for a moment and torture Jihoon for one million years. "Okay. We're roommates, but Mingyu started telling people at work that he's married so people would stop hitting on him or trying to set him up with their kids... except that was obviously stupid and now I'm kind of caught up in that lie and occasionally picking him up from company gatherings pretending he's my, uh, 'husband'."

"Oh." Jihoon nods slowly; he's underwater, ears plugged. "Okay."

Mingyu drops his hand after a couple seconds of zero reciprocation. "Haha, uhm, anyways... Did you want to come in?"

"Oh." Jihoon nods again. "Okay."

Your touch on Jihoon's arm becomes a little stronger. "You look a little pale. Come in and let me get you that water, yeah?"

"Oh." Yeah. "Okay."

As Jihoon ambles into your home -- your shared home with some guy who introduced himself as your husband but isn't your husband but chose you to be in his marriage but it's a fake marriage but -- he wants to say the things he's always wanted to say. Fuck, he's been wanting and wanting forever.

But he can't.

Not only because he can't form the words; that's been his problem since the beginning and was supposed to be his last hurdle today.

No.

He can't because your fake husband smiled at you in front of him.

And that smile looked nothing like a lie.

--

part 2 (mingyu's pov)

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi! Maybe a Minho x reader where the reader is already in the safe haven, and is doing some gardening while singing or dancing and minding her business and Minho sees her and recognizes her from before the maze trials but not entirely, and he feels attracted to her and tries very hard to get her attention and it's all flirty but also funny and a little embarrassing. Like an aftermath and it's all fluffy and cute and maybe a little spicy in the end:D

Man, your ideas are always so good. I absolutely love writing your requests omg.

MIRAGE OF THE PAST

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Fem!Group B!Ex-Runner!Reader x Minho. Kinda movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some suggestive themes, spice at the end, reference to Newt's death (sorry), group B slang from the wiki page but they might be fanmade but I'm going with it.

"Come on, Minho," Frypan groans as the remaining Gladers sit around the burning bonfire, "there's gotta be at least one girl here that you want."

This conversation had been going on for the past few weeks. Once the initial shock of surviving and escaping to the Safe Haven passed, the other boys (apart from Thomas) immediately started scoping out the women. Watching Gally and Frypan attempt to flirt with anything with tits is admittedly quite funny.

But Minho's not interested. Not only does he have to deal with the trauma of being tortured for half a year, but also the death of his best friend.

Romance had never been something he particularly took interest in, even if a girl would have come up in the Glade, or when girls started joining the group.

Sure, it's not like he doesn't have any frustrations or urges. He didn't really have much of an outlet for that kind of thing during his pubescent teenage years- and he figured years of pent-up sexual energy would've started to actually affect him by now. Especially with no Maze or WCKD to distract him.

But not really. Not at the moment.

"Dude," he grumbles, swirling the contents of his glass, "I'm telling you; I do not care."

"There's something shuckin' wrong with you, man," Gally scoffs, entertained more than anything as he drops his head. "There are girls eyeing you up left, right and centre- and you're telling me you don't care?"

Minho had obviously noticed the attention on him, but he'd always known he was good-looking. Even back in the Glade. The attention is, admittedly, an ego boost. And he enjoys watching his friends grumble and complain when some anxious girl approaches them, only for her to want Minho and leave with her tail between her legs.

"Nope- there's no one here I want, okay? Leave it."

Well, Minho was wrong.

The next day, he'd got roped into helping Thomas and Gally move bags of produce and seeds. Vince was too busy running the place, as per usual, so his normal daily tasks got thrown onto Thomas- something that he welcomed with open arms.

And that's when Minho saw you.

You spend a lot of time in the gardens- it's probably your favourite place in the Safe Haven. Similar to Minho, you ran the Maze in Group B, but you'd always had an affinity for plants and used to use the Gardens to calm down after a hard day. Now, it's more like using the plant life to relax after a hard life.

You prune away at the plants as you hum to yourself, dancing around and replaying the drums in your head from the previous night.

Thomas notices Minho's hesitation as he slows down, watching you from a distance. Gally is quick to also slow when he realises both of his colleagues have stopped moving.

Minho pays no mind to them. He's hit with a weird wave of nostalgia as he watches on, unconsciously admiring you. You're gorgeous; wearing the same casual clothes as everyone else, a jacket tied around your hips and your hair in a style he's already decided is his favourite.

What makes Minho's heart jump is when you flip the knife you're holding, tossing it into the air and catching the blade before throwing it. You're still dancing around and bobbing your head as the knife sinks into one of the wooden supports for a weak plant. It hits with a thud, easily holding in place and staying there as you crouch down to pick a tomato, mindlessly tossing it into a nearby basket.

Minho blinks. Processing what the hell just happened inside of him. The way you acted and how casually you just did that left some kind of impact on him.

Was that... hot?

Is that what the other boys call attractive?

Whatever. He can get over that. What he can't get over, however, is the strange feelings of familiarity he's experiencing. He knows you.

Somehow, he knows you.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" You perk your head up, looking in the direction of Sonya's voice as you stand up. She struggles through the shrubbery as you chuckle, slipping your hands into your pockets.

"Hey, Sonya. You good?"

"Yeah, Harriet, Aris and I are gonna grab a drink later, if you wanna join?"

"Uh, I don't know, man- maybe another time."

She groans as you turn back to your plants, dramatically flopping over you and throwing her arms around your shoulders. "C'mon," she drags out the word, "we never see you, anymore."

"That's not true," you gently and playfully shrug her off. It's kind of true.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't become kind of elusive since you'd come here. You'd decided to enjoy your peace, and you were never a people person. But here, you don't have to protect everyone and stress about getting out of a deadly Maze. So, now you keep to yourself. You don't tend to join in on the late night drinking or partying. You've become a teenage Grandma.

"Dude," she crosses her arms, face suddenly serious, "one night. Hang out with us. Please."

"I'll think about it." You scratch the back of your neck, throwing your head back and stretching. You pull it back up, catching someone staring at you from across the sand.

Minho instantly tenses the second you make eye contact. Red starts to dust his cheeks as he pulls his gaze away.

Shit.

Gally barks a laugh. "Wow, Minho," he snorts, and even Thomas laughs along. "Thought you weren't interested in anyone?"

"Slim it, shuck-face," Minho grumbles as he walks past, his head dipped low as he tries to avoid your attention.

What is happening to him?

"Is it just me, or was Minho totally just staring at you?" Sonya asks, even though you shrug it off, returning to your work.

"Who?" You practically hear Sonya's neck snap with the speed she looks at you.

"Who? Did you seriously just ask me who? Uh, Minho? The hot Asian dude that was just completely gawking at you?"

"Never heard of him."

"Are you kidding me? He's the guy that everyone spent months tryna save from WCKD."

"We spent months tryna save all of you from WCKD."

"Yeah- but Thomas and Newt broke into WCKD Headquarters for him. He's kinda a big deal, dude- and half the girls here have a thing for him."

"Sounds like quite the catch," your tone is dull and results in Sonya rolling her eyes.

"Just... just come hang out with us later? We miss talking to you."

"Alright, finch-face," you huff, "I'll have a couple drinks later if it gets you off my dick."

Sonya seems satisfied with this, leaving you to it. To your own surprise, your mind wanders to the boy. You'd never been one for attention, and you'd not really had any advances here. So, why do you feel flustered at this random dude staring at you?

You, in fact, do not meet them later for drinks. But you do promise another time.

Minho, on the other hand, spends the next week watching you every chance he gets. Thomas and Gally silently agree to keep it between themselves, but it's kind of hard.

He feels creepy and stalkerish. But he can't help it- you're just so perfect and he's never been this anxious to talk to someone ever. He wants to talk to you, but he just can't bring himself to.

After much consideration, you decide to actually join your friends for one night.

The girls are very happy to see you and you offer a friendly hug to Aris, joining them and Brenda around the campfire.

Minho takes note of this, watching you laugh and chatter, the flames dancing off of your skin and the drink swirling around the glass in your hand.

Gally nudges his friend, caving in and having to gossip with someone else. "Fry, have you heard?"

"Hm?"

"Minho, here, is in love." Thomas snorts into his drink, having to put it down so he doesn't choke.

"Shut up, Gally- I am not." Minho kicks him.

"What? Have I missed something? With who?" Frypan, not very subtly, tries to get a glimpse of you.

"Shuck's sake," Minho grasps at his friend, forcing him to sit down, "Fry! Stop!"

"What? What? Is she hot?"

"Yeah, she's hot," Gally scoffs, earning a glare from Minho. "Think she's called (Y/N), or some klunk."

Frypan's face contorts into a grin. "Ha, (Y/N)? No way."

"What? You know her?" Minho blinks at his friend, shocked because no one else seems to know who you are.

"I mean, Brenda knows her-" he leans further forward in his seat "- she's from Group B, used to be a Runner for them. Don't really know much, but they all make her sound like the best of the best. Sonya and Harriet think the world of her."

"Wait," Thomas interjects, "if she's so close with them, how come we don't know who she is?"

"She's not much of a people person," Frypan shrugs, "prefers to be on her own- does her own thing kinda deal. That's what it sounds like at least."

"Great, that means you don't have any competition, Minho," Thomas grins at his friend. "Why don't you just go talk to her?"

"No."

"Why not?" Thomas' smile immediately vanishes. He knows Minho better than most people here. He thinks getting to know someone new could do him some real good.

Minho falls into silence. What reason does he have to not talk to you? Is he just scared? The man has risked his life literally every day for as long as he can remember but he's scared to talk to a girl?

Sounds about right.

"Well," Gally slaps his legs as he stands up, "if you won't talk to her, guess I will."

You could hear the cogs turning in Minho's head as Gally starts to walk towards you. There's no way he's about to watch Gally take the only girl he's literally ever taken any interest in.

The chair moves back as Minho stands up.

Gally gets to your group, opening his mouth but no words come out as Minho is quick to reach him.

"Hey," Minho has absolutely no idea where he's going with this, awkwardly standing with his hands in his pockets as he hovers over the group. Sonya looks at you, repressing a smirk at Minho's slightly shifty stance.

"Hey, Minho," Brenda smiles at her friend, oblivious to what's going on. "You okay?" Gally smirks, making eye contact with Sonya, raising his eyebrows slightly before walking away and returning to the other boys.

"Uh, yeah, just uh, thought I'd come say hi," Minho flinches at his own words, visibly cringing as his confidence dwindles.

"Well, uh, hi?" Brenda is visibly lost whilst Harriet is quick to catch on, also being told by Sonya what happened prior.

"Minho," Harriet, the boldest of the group, decides to move this forward, "have you met (Y/N)?"

Oh no.

"Uh, I don't- no, we haven't met." Minho is having some kind of internal panic attack. The poor boy is going to pass out any second.

"Well, (Y/N) here was our best- she basically ran the joint when I was busy."

"That's not true," you look at him, immediately shutting down Harriet's bragging. He feels very small under your gaze.

"Nah, it is- stop being so humble."

"So, you were a Runner?" You blink at this question.

"I... I never told you that?" Minho freezes. Ah, yes, me and my friends weren't just talking about you or anything. Totally.

"Uh, yeah, I'm just assuming, yanno?"

You shuffle forward, trying to hide the smirk threatening to cross your lips. "Yeah, I was a uh, what did you call it? Runner?"

"Yeah, were you a Keeper?" You blink at him, not understanding the slang that differentiates between the Glade and the Glen.

"What's a Keeper?"

"Oh, it's, like, the person that's incharge of the section."

"Oh, like a Jailer?"

"A Jailer?"

"Yeah- I guess what you called Keepers we called Jailers. But, no, I wasn't a... Keeper. Just did my job, stick."

"You shoulda been a Jailer, finch-face," Harriet complains, adding to an argument that you'd been having for a while.

"I didn't want to be a finching Jailer, Harriet."

"Yeah, but you woulda been so good at it."

"How are we still arguing about this?" Aris asks, earning a chuckle from you.

"Minho was a Keeper, though, weren't ya?" Brenda butts in.

"Oh, yeah?" Maybe Minho is hallucinating, but your tone sounds almost flirty, "What was that like? Can't have been easy tryna look after a bunch of boys."

"Eh, I didn't mind it. Kept me busy and I knew the Maze like the back of my hand- which made my job easier."

"Wow, that's quite the feat- I didn't even remember the Maze that well."

"Yes, you did," Harriet jumps in, and you send her a confused look.

"No, I didn't?"

"Yeah, ya did- I've been out there with you."

"No, I used pattern recognition to figure out what was coming next."

"Same thing."

"That is not the same thing," Minho defends you, almost naturally, which shocks himself.

"Exactly- you gonna argue with with two Runners?" Harriet puts her arms up in defence, accepting her defeat.

The conversation starts to flow more naturally, and Minho eases. You leave for a second, going to get another drink. This is going well. Minho has absolutely nothing to be worried about, and apparently, Gally is a decent wingman. Who would've thought?

Well, you approach again, not saying anything as someone shouts Minho, making him turn around without realising you're standing right behind him. He knocks into you, sending your drink into you chest, spilling it everywhere.

"Shuck," he hisses, watching you pull your lips into a fine line. The liquid drips down your chin and stains your favourite shirt, causing it to stick to your chest- something that Minho tries to not act weird about. "I'm- shit, I'm sorry."

You put the glass down on a nearby crate being used as a table. "It's fine," you say through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna call it a night, anyway."

You suck on your teeth. This is why you don't like people. You don't have problems like this without other people.

"Aw, what?" Sonya complains, but you're already walking away, wiping your face with your hand. "(Y/N)!"

Minho groans, rubbing his face before making eye contact with Brenda. "Smooth."

You resort to your typical demeanour, spending your time in the gardens and ignoring everyone.

"Have you tried actually flirting with her?" Brenda suggests, no fully in the loop even though it wasn't exactly hard to miss. Brenda, Minho, and Gally sit around a table, taking a break from the days workload.

"I spilt her drink down her- I don't think she'll appreciate me flirting with her." Minho huffs.

"She's pretty forgiving. You might as well try."

"I don't- I don't even know how to flirt with a girl- what do I even do?"

"Try and touch her as much as possible, tell her she's hot and that you wanna-" Gally's input is cut off by Brenda punching him in the arm.

"Just talk to her, compliment her, let her know you're interested and then let her make the move- don't listen to Gally, that'll just make her uncomfortable."

"How do you know?"

"Hate to break it to you, Gally, but I happen to be a woman."

"Yeah, but, I mean.." Minho stands up, sick of his friends bickering and all the teasing. He'll just take Brenda's advice and talk to you. It was easy enough last night, for the most part.

"What do you want?" You say before he even opens his mouth. You're crouching down, planting even more seeds in your already overgrown garden.

Not a great start.

"I, uh, I just wanted to apologise for last night. I didn't realise you were stood there and-"

"I already told you; it's fine."

"Yeah, but still," he sighs, "I feel like kind of a slinthead."

"I don't know what that even means."

"Right," he pauses, Brenda's words circling his head. Maybe he should try a compliment. "You, uh, you look pretty." You pause, not really saying anything for a second.

"Do I?" You're covered in dirt and in your gardening garb.

"I mean, yeah. I mean I think you look pretty- I mean you do look pretty- you are pretty- you look good, even when you- you always look good."

You look at him, a lop-sided smirk appearing in your face. "You wanna try that again?"

Obviously, you've noticed Minho's attraction to you. Actually, you've been told it both from your friends and from Brenda. This morning she came over basically begging for you to give Minho a chance, only to be pulled away by Jorge.

It's actually kind of cute.

"Shuck, I'm bad at this," he mumbles, "Yeah. Could I?"

"Be my guest."

"I think you're beautiful, (Y/N)," he says after a second to gain his composure.

Something about this clicks in your head. Your heart rate picks up as you look at him. For a moment, you understand the hype around Minho. He's objectively attractive, and him being an anxious stuttering mess around you is somehow only making him more appearing.

You stand up, scoffing to yourself. "Thanks, Minho."

God, his name sounds so good on your lips. He could listen to you say it all the time. He wonders how else it would sound when-

He stops himself.

It took you saying his name for his mind to start going in that direction? Maybe he's more worked up than he thought.

"Hey?" You wave your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance, "You good?"

He cleats his throat. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You just gonna stand there or gimme a hand?"

"Uh, sure- yeah." You throw a bag of seeds in his direction. He fumbles slightly, but he catches it, not coming across as smooth as he would want to be.

He spends the rest of his day poorly attempting to talk to you. He even does that almost cartoonist thing where he tried to lean on a beam and completely missed.

Another thing you notice is the sheer amount of girls now looking in your direction. They're gawking over a working and sweating Minho and glaring at you.

"You're quite the eye-candy," Minho's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he picks up another bag of fertiliser.

"What?" You jolt your head towards the small group of girls gathering. "Oh, right."

"Seems like you get a lot of attention."

"I don't want their attention," his tone is blunt and sturdy for maybe the first time since you've spoken to him.

"Oh, yeah? 'Cause you want my attention instead, right?" Minho freezes as you look at him, hand casually on your hip.

"What if I do?" Confidence bubbles in his chest. His tone is flirtatious, and he's starting to actually understand that this is how you hit on someone.

"Maybe you could try talking to me like a person instead of stalking me from a distance," and with that, Minho's bubble of confidence bursts.

"I wasn't- I didn't mean-" he sighs, "I didn't mean to be creepy."

You laugh. You actually laugh. And it's like music to Minho's ears.

"I don't get it," you shake your head, continuing with your shovelling, "you could have anyone you want here."

"Yeah, well, I don't think you're right about that."

"Huh? You clearly can."

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you."

Maybe that was too forward from Minho. That much is clear when your moments stop, but when the red starts to creep across your face, he realises that he's actually cracked you.

"I- I, come on, man," you force a laugh to try and play it off, "you can't be saying klank like that."

"Why not? It's true."

"Dude," you send him a warning look. "Why me? Hm? You don't even know me." He falls quiet. You furrow your brows, confusion setting in. "Minho?"

"I think I do," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I think I know you," he says, more confident, "I know it sounds insane- but we obviously had our memories wiped- I don't know. You feel familiar, like maybe I knew you before."

You stand, silently looking at him. You honestly don't know what to think of this. He knows you? It's clear your memory wipe is stronger than his, but it does feel like you've met him before.

"Sorry- that's weird, I just-"

"Minho!" Frypan yells him from a distance, "Gally needs help building this shack! Come on!"

He anxiously looks at you, vaguely pointing in the direction of his friend before walking away, leaving you to process everything that's happened.

You told Sonya, Harriet, and Aris everything that had happened. Aris was lost, Harriet intrigued, and Sonya was practically frothing at the mouth.

It then turned into them pressuring you to talk to Minho instead, but you decided to leave it until you saw him again naturally.

That doesn't exactly happen.

Waking up early one morning, you come out of your hut and notice Minho sitting on the sand, in front of the waves, basking in the rising son.

Sucking in a deep breath, you gain some confidence and walk over to him. "Hey," he looks up at you as you stand behind him. You're in your casual running pants and sports bra, which makes his brain do a backflip.

"Hey," he's kind of surprised that you've approached him first, but you've spent the days between your last conversations thinking of him.

"I was gonna go on a run, wanna race?" A grin starts to cross his face.

"You think you can beat me?"

"No," you smirk, "I know I can."

He stands up, dusting off some of the sand. "Alright, girly, where we racing to?"

"From here to the Creek?"

"The Creek?"

"You don't know about the Creek? Bro, you're missing out."

He agrees to these terms and you both get ready. Counting in, you both start, though Minho stumbles slightly- clearly not used to the sand.

Despite your head start, Minho easily catches up. You playfully push him out of the way, which he's fast to return.

To get to the Creek, you have to cut across some of the sand dunes, which means leaving the beach. You take a sharp right, causing Minho to stumble as you book it through the dunes.

Loud laughs escape you as you throw your arms up. You grind to a halt, stopping at a large circle of rocks with a pool in the middle, accompanied by a small waterfall.

"You shucking cheat!" He catches up to you, slowly to a jog before he doubles over.

"Told you I'd beat you," you grin at him.

"Yeah, only because you're a cheater."

"Wow," he stands up straight as you step closer to him, "shoulda guessed you'd be a sore loser."

He presses his tongue into his cheek, humming as he nods, bitterly. "That's how you wanna do this, huh?"

"Gotta play the game."

"Hm, well, if you insist." With now warning, Minho picks you up, making you shriek as he throws you over his shoulder.

"Minho!" You cry out, kicking your legs but it's too late.

The water is freezing as he drops you in. You're submerged by the crystal-clear serene water in seconds.

You rise again, gasping for air as Minho laughs at you. "You bitch!" This just makes his laugh even more.

"Gotta play the game, right?" You splash him, making him step back. "Alright, alright!" He shields his face, running his fingers through his hair before he looks at you, a mischievous smirk appearing.

"What?" You dare ask.

Minho pulls at the bottom of his shirt, yanking it over his head. You don't mean to stare, but you do. He chest and mid-drift are chiselled as dark hair dusts across his lower stomach, leading further into his pants. Your mind goes fuzzy for a second.

You don't have much time to ogle though as he runs forward, pulling his legs to his chest and cannonballing into the water. Water spashes everywhere, drowning you once again as you turn to face him.

He re-emerges, flicking his hair before pushing it back. "Shuck!" He exclaims. "It's shuckin' freezing!"

You laugh at him, wheezing as you try to cat g your breath, resulting in you being hit by another wave of water that Minho throws at you. You respond this time, which ends up turning into a splashing match.

And then into a shoving one.

The Creek is filled with laughter and the sounds of splashing water, and neither of you remember the last time you had this much fun.

You keep sending small, concise waves in Minho's direction. "Okay, okay- stop. Okay," he swims closer, grabbing you wrists and stopping the movements. "That's enough."

Your giggles slow as he holds your hands in place. "Enough." Both of your chests rise and fall as he stands in front of you.

Minho thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's even seen. Your hair sticks to your face, water running down your collarbone and cleavage.

And, honestly, the feeling is mutual. The chuckles quickly stop as you both stare at each other. You can't help yourself when your eyes land on his lips.

Oh God.

Almost unconsciously, you move closer to him, and he does the same, like two magnets pulling towards each other. Your faces are mere centimetres apart as he drops your wrists, hands coming to your hips under the water instead.

Minho is hypnotised. You're so close, and the feeling of your skin under his fingers is making him feel almost drunk. He didn't know it was possible for a person to make him feel this way.

Faint shouting from the distance snaps you both out of your trance. People at the Safe Haven are waking up and the day is about to begin- both of your absences isn't going to go unnoticed.

You pull away, clearly your throat, "We should go. They'll wonder where we are."

"Uh, yeah- you're right."

Minho doesn't bother to put his shirt back on for the walk, letting the air dry his skin. Which is completely distracting, and you swear he caught you looking more than once. But he doesn't say anything.

Once you're closer, he pulls his shirt back on and you split up, mumbling some very awkward goodbyes.

You slip back into your hut, unnoticed, drying yourself off and getting changed.

Unfortunately, damp Minho had an audience the second he returned. He doesn't think he's ever got this much attention.

You and Minho suddenly become as bad as each other. Your conversations are brief but full of tension, so much so that your friends can notice until it all comes ahead.

You've, once again, been peer-pressured into having some fun. Leaning on a beam at the side of the party, you watch from afar.

Some girl came up to Minho about fifteen minutes ago, and she's beeb hanging off of him ever since. You've failed to join in on your conversation with your friends, who are exchanging some knowing looks between one another.

"I don't get it," Sonya says after a while, "you know he likes you, and you're clearly at least starting to like him- so why not do something about it?"

"What?" You pull your death stare away, looking at your blond ally instead.

"You and Minho? Finch it, being in the same room as you guys is enough to turn anyone on- so I can't imagine how you guys feel."

"You're looking to much into it; everyone likes Minho. I'm not about to be another girl pining for his affection."

"Yeah, but he likes you." Harriet joins in. "There's no competition because he's already yours. Sonya's right; do something about it."

You look at them before returning your gaze to Minho and the girl. They're right.

And you've had enough of this.

"Fuck it," you down the rest of your drink in one mouthful, slamming it down and making your way over to him.

Wordlessly, he notices you approaching as he sits amongst his friends, practically ignoring the girl. You take his hand as he looks up at you like a lost puppy.

He makes no hesitation to push the girl off, standing up and letting you lead him to literally wherever you want. Whistles from Gally and Frypan fill the noise from behind you, but you don't care anymore.

You pull him into your hut, the light is dim as you shut the door behind the both of you.

"(Y/N)? What are you-?" You push him backwards, making him hit the wall as you stand in front of him. Once again, your faces are painfully close.

"You still want me?" You mumble, nearly into him as his body goes limp, eyes becoming hooded.

He nods. "More than anything."

"Do..." the questions makes you cringe, somehow becoming nervous despite knowing you're not about to get rejected, "do tou want to be my boyfriend?"

Your eyes flicker down, not able to meet his gaze, and you hear him scoff. "Of shuckin' course I do."

The scene you look up at him again, his lips are on yours. It's a deep kiss, but a safe one, and you pull away from each other for a second.

"Damn," he smirks, "if I knew you were the possessive type, I woulda made you jealous sooner."

"Shut up," you grumble, pressing your lips back to his. It's feverish this time, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer, whilst your hands come to his hair, tangling in his dark locks.

He hums into you as you pull on his bottom lip with your teeth, both of you move in sync as he leads you to the bed, falling on top of you.

His hands travel under your shirt, desperate to feel your skin against his once again as your bodies tangle together. You pull at his shirt, and he takes the hint, breaking the kiss to pull it off.

It gives you the chance to drink in his appearance. He's dishevelled and messy, panting with large pupils and parted lips. He's never felt this needy in his life, watching as you sit up, pulling your own shirt off.

You reconnect, Minho pushing himself between your legs, your nails digging into his back as he transfers his affection to your neck. You let out a shaky breath, which very nearly comes out as a moan.

It just pushes Minho further as he sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your neck. Your body twitches, and you gasp, clinging onto him further.

"Minho," your voice is whispy and full of an emotion Minho hasn't heard before. He thought he liked hearing you say his name before, but now he could literally get drunk off of the word. "Please."

He grabs you thigh, hiking your leg up further as he grinds against you. Let's be honest, the boy has been rock solid since the first kiss.

"I've never..." He mutters against you skin, "I've never done this before. I don't really... know what I'm doing."

"You think I do?" You chuckle. "Do you want to do this, or should we wait?"

He pauses, looking at you. "I want you so fuckin' bad- I've never felt like this before. But if you want to wait, then I'll wait for as long as you need. Do you want to wait?"

Hearing Minho actually swear instead of the Glader slang is rare, and sends even more heat through you as Harriet's words ring through your head.

He's already yours.

He hovers on top of you as he waits for your answer, and you shake your head.

"No," you mumble, bucking up your hips against his, making him hiss and his breath hitches before you kiss him once again.

Another Minho piece woooo. I've got a couple of requests to get through now to keep me busy, so there should be some steady content coming out, but requests are still open. Also sorry if it takes me a bit to get to your requests, I promise I will get to them.

I hope you enjoyed :))

[suzylind]

OO OO maybe Misfire? otherwise Mirage in your style would be so fucking cute too 🥹 keep up the gorgeous art amigo, I look up to it a lot!

Thank you for the suggestion!! You're making my train ride much more entertaining as I'm trying to doodle these xD

Here's Misfire for you! Surely he won't miss this time 😂

[blackhairedjjun]

i know no one asked for this but i have Thoughts about my favorite hair colors for yeonjun

black: I HAVE MY URL FOR A REASON!! he just looks sooooo classically handsome in black hair and it makes my heart flutter 🥰 but it's super versatile too, depending on how you style it and how you style the rest of his outfit he can also look cute and boyish or sexy in a bad boy way! you can never go wrong with black hair honestly! personally i really like his long hair from the early part of the act sweet mirage tour but his current short hairstyle and his undercut hairstyle also look great.

pink: ok so in my mind there are two (2) pink hair yeonjun eras, the bubblegum pink one from blue hour and the light faded rose one from lolla 2023 / act sweet mirage 2nd asia leg. i love both of them for different reasons: bubblegum pink is fun and playful and defies gender norms in every way, light rose is soft and elegant but can also be a tad bit rebellious. i have a slight preference for the light rose, though that might be because that was his hair color when i saw him live this year!

blue: like pink hair yeonjun, we have two eras for this: tdc magic era and lolla 2022 / act lovesick era. i wasn't a moa during tdc magic era so i'm not entirely sure what shade of blue his hair was back then, sometimes it looks more blue other times it looks more teal?? in any case i definitely prefer lolla 2022 era blue, though that might also be because i think the haircut is more flattering + yeonjun's overall look matured more during this time. tdc magic blue is very playful and whimsical while lolla 2022 blue is more rebellious and cool!

blonde/black mix: HONESTLY this one is my second fave color on him after black! and one some days it gives black a run for its money haha. anyway i was surprised by how good this looks in any context -- like this was his gbgb era hair so it evokes that bad boy image, but this was also his hair in the midsummer photoshoot where it has that golden summery vibe! i think the combination of two naturally occurring hair colors keeps it down to earth and versatile for any style while still being visually interesting.

anyway these are my fave hair colors for yeonjun! i'm actually curious about what other people's fave colors for him are, or if your txt bias is someone else, what your fave hair colors for him are!

[goatakiart]

Please don't forget me (Part 1)

(Mirage x Reader)

Arts by me ❤️

Warning! (Adult themes, triggering topics, blood, alcohol etc.)

Mc Design (for the fanfic arts)

It's my first fanfiction, I made it with love. Please enjoy! ^^

.

.

.

It’s been two years since she joined the “bloodsports”.

Two years of fighting and war, but also immaculate friendships.

There’s drama, relationships and bonds,but it’s still all part of a chaotic battlefield, in her head she kept trying to think “it’s just sports……….right?”.

She could get along with others easily, didn’t go too personal on her talks, but one guy did catch her eye constantly, Mirage. He was always alone, never got into any squads and still tried to be fun, everyone liked him, he was the star of the show. However if she asked about him not many talked about what’s going on, they avoided the topic, perhaps he didn’t want her to know about him.

She tried to become his squad more than once, she tried to talk to him a million times, either way he seemed nervous and avoided her at any cost.

She ended up giving up in some months. Maybe she bothered him with her presence, she thought. Also, she didn’t want to make him feel even more uncomfortable.

It’s been two years since she got into The Apex Games.

One day, she was walking around the area after finishing a tough battle.

She saw a bright place from far away, her curiosity sparks and she find herself walking towards it.

She is getting closer and closer. It took some time to reach a point where she could actually see more clear, “What the hell is that?”

Is it a ship? Why can she hear music?

She walks closer in caution, the evening sun is falling creating an orange shade on the bright ship, after much thought she decides to get in.

“Huh??” she sees a man, no, many men, wait no—- it’s the same person—-clones?

It’s Mirage. Drinking his ass off and dancing, by himself.

Mc is clearly still annoyed with his behavior from the previous years, but her curiosity gets the best of her again, still her greeting comes off as rude.

“Who in their right mind parties alone?”

It definitely came off as rude.

He seems shocked to see her and suddenly his easygoing behaviour goes away, again becoming nervous and that pisses mc off.

“O-oh hello, well I’m not alone you see!” He says as he hugs one of his clones by the back of their neck.

She raises an eyebrow, walking forward, he seemingly walks backwards but still offers her a drink.

“I don’t often get costumers.” he says with this stupid awkward stuttering “What would you l-like to drink? I got everything a woman might like, oh wait that sounds bad...” *he puts his palm on his forehead in embarrassment “Anyway I got all the drinks here, I mean this is a bar, why wouldn’t I? ” He chuckles nervously.

Her annoyance wears off little by little as she hears his silly little monologue trying not to laugh but a smile reveals it's way out. “I would like some Devil Springs Vodka then.” She says looking at him in the eye and smirking, a little mockingly I might add.

He blinks, leading up to a stare with his eyes wide open “Wow there! Maybe you should go for something less hardcore?”

She raises an eyebrow again, this time in amusement, she leans on the bar in front of him as he is on the bartender side. “Why? You suddenly care about my well-being?” He backs off flustered and looks away “I-I mean tomorrow we should fight, you wanna be hangover??” He pretends to be looking at the drinks. She laughs at his behaviour “Okay then, what my cute bartender would suggest for the night before the fight?” Mirage doesn’t turn to look at her, she notices his ears becoming red, he takes a little time to reply, however she doesn't break the silence immediately while she's watching in amusement “I’ll have a glass of wine of your choice then.” She rests her cheek on her palm, waiting for a reaction.

“Wine, yes, okay, that’s fine.” he replies after some time in panic looking for the bottle, he brings up a bottle of Chateau Lafite 1787.

She can’t mock him this time, he definitely knows his drinks.

“Where did you find this, Mirage??” she's shocked he brings up one of the most luxurious wines there is. He relaxes a little as he poors some of the wine on a glass for her and then for him “I’m broke for a reason."

They look at each other, trying to hold it in, but they end up both laughing at the same time. “Well that’s certainly a good reason to be broke. However, I think you should blame that huge ship of yours!” She exclaims, still laughing as she's also pointing on Mirage's huge painting of himself. He doesn't reply but gives her a warm smile, she can’t help but feel a little tickly inside, he's raising his glass giving her the hint to clink their glasses together, she raises her glass too. “Cheers!” They both say, and they start drinking as the colors of the evening fade, the night falls, and the ship becomes brighter than ever.

[tsuki-sennin]

Spreading sky! Hero gals! Hirogaru Sky! Pretty Cure! This is a... very exciting prospect, of course. Not only is it the 20th series and very close to the franchise's 20th anniversary, but we're jostling a lot of franchise traditions! Blue non-human leader, a full-time male Cure, an (entirely unambiguous) adult!

New town, new me. That also means a new tag!

"Hop! Step! Jump! Hero Gals Dream of the Everlasting Sky!"

Y'know, filter that out if you wanna.

Man, imagine liveblogging a PreCure series on time lmao

Spoilers, I guess...

-The sky!

-Skyloft?

-Oh wow, even got giant birds.

-There's Sora-chan. I'll give you a dumb nickname later,

-Skyland Castle!

-Wonder if we'll run into Spyro the Dragon?

-Maybe if we were on a Nintendo console we'd meet Bowser and Donkey Kong.

-Lotsa cute borbs on Skyland, huh?

-Subarashii~! Hapii Basudei~!

-Princess El. You are... a very interestingly designed baby, I'd say.

-How old are you, a year?

-Oh look it's Bebop from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That's neat.

-Kabaton.

-Gonna bomb a fuckin' baby! Okay!

-"Speed up."

-Don't pay that bird enough for this, Sora-chan.

-It's Hero time!

-Oh shit.

-I enjoyed DePaPre's OP an awful lot, but this

-This is a banger right out the gate.

-Gives me very high hopes for the rest of the soundtrack.

-Oh shit, Futari wa callback.

-Ah, even got a notebook opening for the title card, that's cute.

-P i g

-The 7th Chocobo Cavalry has come rushing in.

-Kabaton-ton?

-Very nimble for a big fella, huh?

-In comes Sora-san.

-Hot damn, this girl's must've done mocap for Mirror's Edge.

-Ain't no stopping this dude.

-Ready... Go!

-"I am the girl from the sky! Of the clear sky clan!"

-

-REALLY now, Toei?

-I ain't even gonna dignify that with a response, I'm just gonna move on with my life.

-Dropped the baby.

-Going into strange holes is generally not advised until you're far older, Sora.

-Hydrogen baby.

-Very cute hydrogen baby, might I say.

-Where we at?

-Drop TWO babies at once!

-Pretty Holic~! They sell stationery too~!

-Hurtling at the terminal velocity of... 2 miles an hour.

-That's a car, those're rolling death machines.

-That's Pretty Holic lipstick, that's what we call a "uniting thread".

-"WHY ARE THESE BIRDS SO TINY?!"

-Mashiro-chan, gotcha.

-Sorashido~!

-"My notebook~!"

-Ahhhh, Skyland script.

-Oh god, he's back.

-Underground!

-Ranborg!

-C

-CureTube.

-Curesta. CureTube.

-Gonna write up my fanfic ideas on my CurePad in Pretty Docs, then maybe post 'em up on Cureblr.

-Using the Octagon-washing-machine to dry Octagon-coats on Octagon-hangers.

-"Mashiro-san! Protect Hydrogen Baby with your life."

-"Noooooo pleeease!"

-Smoked out.

-Hot damn, these're some nice angles.

-"Gimme that baby, extra!"

-A fated duel!

-Oh, he went and done it now.

-Tore up her dreams right in front of her.

-Precuuuuuure!

-It's Hero Time!

-Sky mirage! Tone connect!

-Hirogaru Change! Sky!

-Hop! Step! Jump! Clearly she takes inspiration from Ichika Usami.

-Love the side cape.

-Blue sky soaring to infinity! Cure Sky!

-Sora Harewataru... that is, Cure Sky is our hero for this year. She fights for truth, justice, and a better tomorrow!

-She's not quite flying yet. But she is falling with style.

-That's some impact!

-Hirogaru Sky Punch!

-Dig in peace once more.

-You're safe now, citizen!

-Oh, ED time.

-Don't worry Mashiro-chan, you'll get to be Cure Prism in, say... an episode or two? You're voiced by Rabirin, so your odds are pretty good. There's the lad, Cure Wing, voiced by Don Murasame. And Butterfly-oneesan, I haven't actually heard of Ayaka Nanase till yesterday.

-I love the colored pencil aesthetic, I feel seen.

-Very nice ED, very cute.

-Gotta keep the kid safe.

-I've actually been considering a few of options for my unique liveblog tag.

-"I would fly into the sun if that would keep our dream alive" is fitting, but is a bit... loaded a reference for me to make as a RWBY fan.

-I've considered using the lyrics of the Jetman theme or even some old Superman standards, but I thought those'd be a little obvious.

-My Hero Academia and One Punch Man references were considered, of course, but were discarded.

-I reckon what I chose gets the point across well enough, yeah?

-Kinda newspaper headline-y too, as a bonus.

-Well, you know where to find me for next time! See you on the flip side, citizens!

[istherewifiinhell]

okayyyy more. revisting 03s version of the 'leonardo #1' aka 'leo fights all those dudes in the rain' aka 'leo vs that damn window' aka 'one of wifis fav moments of the "i want episode were he pass away not because i hate him because i love him" variety'...

At this point i have seen. as fair as i know EVERY version of that specific moment. 90s movie (its raph actually!), 03, 12, mirage and idws (both incredible. i believe eastmans layouts for mirage, stunning. and soph. campbell art on the idw one. so EMOTIONAL). oh and its in the mobile game on apple arcade too. yeah.

and in my mind, 03 a lot of legs up, you get motion over still image for action heavy scenes, animation over live action for less physical limitations on the action, and 2d over cg, which specifically for the relavant eras on tv budgets, helps tune in the colour pallet and textures. is dark and its raining, can you can really see both. cool tone pallets and rain that just poors down the characters skin. at least in the close up shots. lol.

BUT i will admit. and oh i am not usually this person. like. kids/all ages media is gonna be the way it is. its silly to expect it to be otherwise. I WAS. a little struck. by feeling the absence of really heavy hits. like. he cant KILL people. its 4kids.... but as their throwing ya know. waves of enemies, and just using the stock animation attacks and cut away techique. its a little diminished. now it still has the escalation of stakes, gives you that sense of pronglonged exhausting battle, lets you feel both leos skill and when hes in too deep. just the composition/choreo leaves a little wanting.

THAT SAID. it IS a 2 parter. the adaption of the leo micro is part one. issue 11 is part 2. AND. OH i found out where they put all the animation! Its here. NOW this. pretty much makes complete sense when youre not me who just got sicko focused on the endurance sad boy test...

the second half is of course where you have ALL of the characters getting in the mix, an established set piece location of aprils apartment and shop. and you know, time for THE SHREDDER. to actually get in the mix. and not just get his guys to do the work. the difference is kinda wild.

you have a lot of really specific locational fighting, not cuting to the action lines background. constant awareness of where all our players are and what their doing. and when the turtles fight the 'elite guard', (about as literally as you can get to, they are mini bosses). i was thinking. Hey is this rotoscoped? cause something about the form factor of the characters, the heft of their movement, and the full body mechanics of the fighting. it feels so night and day. super impactful and very cool to see.

also what we call. casey with the good hair. instead of the flat middle part hair, they draw him with a bit of volume, some wavy texture... it really gives the impression he JUST tried a new conditioner thats really working for him... its not really here nor there. fun tho.

so. as much as i will silently morn not getting a rise leo no 1 moment (hell they could make it raph again. why not). just cause. god could you imagine? or any of the other newer animations... if you let the batturtles team do it they could get some brutality.. or if they do it in the mm show... shit.

I AM still, getting appreciation for 03 playing the beautiful game, of how you work your stories around animated tv show restrictions. just the previous arc, notes from the underground, has so much unique style of lighting, and one other shot that really stuck out to me. just the turtles repelling down a cliff, arms out front and behind, walking basically, straight down. Its necessarily such an awkward gesture, but it looked really nice, just for a short little transitional shot. respect.

[solardrink]

Oh? How’s the transformers looking? How stronger are your thoughts on the new transformers than other transformers, I actually only have a like vague idea on what transformers is so this is just an ask for you to infodump

Ary I’m gonna cry u wonderful person thank you so much for asking

Ok so this movie is rise of the beasts!! Michael Bay is not directing this movie and you can already tell the difference THANK THE LORD (the human companions are not deeply cringe and annoying for once)

according to the trailer (which released at 9 am this morning (I watched it after I finished my Sol (early btw))) the beastformers - transformers whose altmodes are animals like cheetah, [raptor bird I forgor], rhino, and gorilla as opposed to transformers who are vehicles like cars or jets etc.

The beastformers r like “help us out autobots! Earth is in danger!” And optimus prime, autobots boss, is like I am not losing the idgaf war “This is not our battle..” but obv smth changes and the autobots help out in fighting against the big bad UNICRON , the eater of worlds 🍽️

My thoughts on all the models :

- mirage looks amazing !! HOWEVER he is so clearly a Jazz ripoff ! (Jazz was the black va’d second in command to op in the g1 series who was a fan of humans and their music) not only does mirage looks like jazz, have a similar voice and aesthetic, the whole purpose of his character is to act as a bridge between the humans he’s fascinated by and his autobot friends , something, I’ll give credit, jazz didn’t specifically do

I’m not even mad about it tho that’s just an observation cause mirage seems so cool!! like a totally charismatic character I’m obsessed !

- arcee ! She looks so pretty !! Not as pastel pink as I’d personally like but she really does look great

She’s voiced by Liza koshy of all people and we didn’t get to hear her in the trailer so I’m super curious how that turns out

She’s got an acrobatic style of fighting and is so girlboss

- wheeljack (otherwise known as Pablo - bc that’s what’s written on his van form) looks interesting … he has a face that looks like a metal gigachad with defined lips let’s just say that

He’s missing his ear fins !!!! :( they showed up kinda ? in the twt trailer but idk it doesn’t look the same

He’s missing his mask too !! :( and he has big goggles for some reason ?? ig they’re really leaning into the nerd look

- bee looks cute , nuff said

- Optimus ! Optimus has his chassis with windows again!!! In my opinion anything that looks more like g1 designs is a win in my book

He looks good he sounds good - voiced by Peter Cullen again thank goodness! I’m super duper excited to see him

- the human companions !!

We don’t know much about them but I’m like really really excited, poc leads woo !!

In the few clips we’ve seen they’re not obnoxiously annoying the way the bayverse humans always are 🙏🙏 the main human guy seems to have a funny dynamic with mirage

with human companions in transformers media, it’s ALWAYS a hit or miss and most often misses

The only human companions that are good are Sari, Raf, Spike, the Burns family and Doc Greene and Frankie <- rescue bots is a phenomenal show

Anyway about the human companions for this movie I’m super charmed by them and I’ve got a good feeling about it

[warriorsofsplatsville]

"Oh, wow! Look at all the dresses in this store! Hopefully they have some really nice ones here, yeah?"

Sandy and Cruesa enter the store, amazed by the wonderful world of fabric around them. It was unlike anything they've seen up until now- incredibly chic and high fashion.

Minu would be accompanying them, but she informed them that she already had a dress picked out and promptly ran away home.

"Oh? I heard the bell chime! Cus-to-mers~" A voice chirped from the back side of the store. Out emerged what appeared to be the owner of the store.

"Welcome to Temptation, darlings! Let me guess...from the look on your faces, you're going to attend a fancy party...no, a ball! You came to look for the perfect dresses, then?"

"Woah! How'd you know?!" Sandy gasped.

"Well, you don't end up here for just a little date or something. This, my dears, is where the magic happens." She giggled. "I'm Tempest. I run the Temptation line and stores, though recently I opened up this store here in Splatsville!"

"That's cool! Can we look around?"

"Of course, take your time~ Let me know of you need anything~"

Sandy and and Cruesa gazed at the shelves, racks, and mannequins that had dresses of all kinds: mermaid style, extra frilly, sleek velvet, anything you could want in a large selection.

"Oh, I kinda like this..." Cruesa whispered, tugging on a soft dress from the rack. It seemed to be knee-length.

"What an excellent choice!" Tempest chimed in from behind, catching the two by surprise.

"Oh, in fact..." Tempest spun around on her heel, fishing something from a folded pile behind them. "Try pairing it with this dress jacket. I feel like the colors would compliment your fins..."

"Huh....yes, they do look really cute..." Cruesa admired the pieced of fabric in her hands.

"I also have little accessories and jewels to adorn the outfit to REALLY put it together!"

"Wow! This is a luxury shop..." Sandy gulped. "This won't cost us an arm and leg, will it?"

"Hmm...how old are you girls? Teenagers? Perhaps prom age....I know how expensive clothes can get, trust me. I suppose I can offer a hefty discount if it's not within your initial budget!"

"Really?! Wow, thank you..."

The bell above the door jingled once more, and the three look over at the person entering the store.

Mirage.

Their eyes scan the store, finally landing on Cruesa and speeding over, stopping just in front of the girls.

"Can I help you, dear?" Tempest tilted her head.

"Oh- not today, I was just trying to find my friend. Thanks though." They panted, turning their attention to the Salmonling. "Ess, I've been trying to catch up with you guys. You guys walk way too fast."

"Oh, sorry Mir. Sandy was in a hurry to go shopping. What did you need?"

"I-I..." They began, a lump getting caught in their throat. "Um...listen, I don't know if you care about me all too much yet, but I might as well shoot my shot here. So..."

"...Ess. Will you...go to the ball with me...as my date?"

The three girls are left in stunned silence. Cruesa cleared her throat and blinked a few times at them. "Wait, me? Are you sure you want to take me-?"

"Yeah. I've thought about it. I can't...really imagine going with anyone else. So...?" Their face fell, softly looking at her.

Cruesa felt weak in her knees.

"S-Sure!" She smiled, laughing to fill the silence a little bit.

"O-oh! Really? Th-th-that's good! Great, even! Okay, bye-" They stammered, leaving the shop as soon as they entered.

"Did...Mirage....you know, the stoic, grumpy, quiet Mirage...just ask you out???" Sandy asked in disbelief.

"Fufu, that sounded like asking someone out to me~" Tempest cooed.

"I-I...I can't believe...they asked me of all people..." Cruesa finally managed to say. Were they insane? Not even a month ago, she was spying on the squid as a means to destroy the world, and now they were asking her to come to the ball as their partner?

...And why did she feel her heart leap when they did?

[copperbora]

Dear Primus there is so much that I absolutely adore about these designs!!! Like pleeeease someone big in Hasbro with power notice how awesome your designs are, it's almost impossible to even pick a favourite but but but!:

- I LOVE that Prowl is just a tiny, angry little shit.😂

- WHIRL!!!❤️

- Lookin' epic Jazzman!!!

- Tiny cute Perceptor!

- Mirage is so wonderfully fancy!!❤️

- Sides and Sunny look fragging SLICK like those beautiful scrapheaps are DANGEROUS. I loooove them!!! Also are racer frames digitigrade in your continuity?! Because I freaking love that, it makes so much freakin' SENSE! (Same with your seekers and Skyfire AAAAAAH!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️)

- EJECT AND REWIND people Blaster has two of his cassettes I might sob.����❤️

- SKYFIRE IS HUGE AND I WANNA HUG HIM.

- Beachcomber is hilarious and I love him

- Arcee!!! Her butt and thighs! Lady is STRONG!!❤️

- Hound is so adorable I wanna hug him and be his best friend because I love nature too!!!

- Your style is just so cute and cuddly and comforting to look at, I fully adore it. 🥺❤️

Do you have a post like this for the Decepticons yet?!❤️ Does Starscream have his trine?!❤️

the full lineup of the earth stranded autobots

posted some these before but now I added characters and updated most of the old designs so yee

also if you art intrested in the main human cast they can be found here

[purplesurveys]

1592

What is your favourite dog breed? I love all dogs but I am partial to aspins, and since we’ve had Cooper, beagles.

What colour nail polish do you wear the most? I never put on nail polish, my fingers are too fidgety for the paint to last more than a day.

Do you use lip balm regularly? Nope, and honestly it’s mainly because I lose things so often that I can already imagine having to buy new sticks of lip balm several times a week. 

Do you drink soda? I really dislike fizzy drinks but whenever I’m asked for my soda of choice and am too shy to decline, I just go for Sprite.

Do you drive? Indeed I do.

If so what kind of car do you drive? I have a Mitsubishi Mirage.

Look to your left, what do you see? Complete darkness, but technically I have my phone and what’s left of my dinner on my left.

How many people have you dated? One.

Do you use hand sanitizer frequently? Mostly when I’m in public and have to touch things that aren’t mine, like a pen. Otherwise I’m not too paranoid about it.

How many hair products do you use? Just shampoo and conditioner.

Are you happy with your appearance? Yeah, for the most part. Of course sometimes I’ll have days where I can’t help but point out everything that I see as flaws, but it’s never been to an extent that I hate or harm myself.

What is the last book you read? I can’t remember. I did almost pick up Almond at the café I visited last Monday (they have this cute little nook where you can read books that customers have donated), but it was already approaching 6:30 PM, and the general location of the café was sketchy and I didn’t want to stay there til late.

What website do you visit most often? Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Reddit.

Have you ever broken a bone? No. I’ve had a couple of sprains, but never broken bones.

Are you artistic? At most, I’ve been exhibiting more creativity these days - I only know so because friends and co-workers have been pointing it out more frequently. I think my artistry is largely limited to ideas though; I can think of concepts, but never have the first clue on how to execute/translate them myself.

Have you ever been to a concert? Just a handful. I would only go to acts if I’m a big big big BIG fan - like how I like Harry Styles but probably wouldn’t spend on tickets for a concert of his. I’ve only seen Paramore, One Direction, and Coldplay in the past.

Have you ever performed in a play? Only because they were mandatory. We had annual productions in my first school and every grade always had to do a song/dance number.

Do you like to dance? Only when I’m alone. I’ll dance with friends if I’ve had a few drinks and have started to feel like letting loose but that’s it.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? I wish I didn’t get so nervous or paranoid about the idea of eating alone in public. Thing is, I’m sure it’s a common sight in other countries but in my culture it’s considered a bit strange and can even elicit pity from others, which I hate. It’s a kink I’m trying to work on and maybe in 2023 I’ll start not giving a shit.

What search engine do you use? Chrome. It almost feels like a crime having to use anything else.

Do you have a facebook account? Yes I do.

What is your favourite food? My top 3 these days are fried chicken and waffles, chicken sandwiches, and sushi.

Can you use chopsticks? I’m pretty sure my form is nowhere near correct, but I’m able to pick up food with them and that’s enough for me. Do you use a blowdryer on your hair? Only for special occasions.

Do you use a flat iron? No and I don’t want that thing anywhere near my hair. My mom had my hair rebonded a couple of times as a kid and always against my will, and I hated how unnatural it looked on me. Overly straight hair also doesn’t suit my face shape, so trips to the salon for a rebonding appointment always kickstarted the blow to my self-esteem.

Do you have a cell phone? Continued from last night. Yes, I do. Makes me wonder what year this survey was made, not gonna lie haha.

What colour underwear are you wearing? It’s a dark shade of pink.

What colour are most of your clothes? I'd say half of my wardrobe is black, but the other half is a bunch of the other colors. I preferred wearing black or white everything for the longest time, but over the last year or so I started inviting more color in my closet.

Do you collect anything? Just K-pop merch. What colour are your eyes? Dark brown.

Do you have any tattoos? Don’t have any.

Do you play video games? I don’t; I’ve always preferred watching walkthroughs. I’ve tried starting on a few video games but the skillset required is just not for me...I remember trying to play Resident Evil 6 at the easiest level but still not being able to successfully pass through the literal first obstacle of the game. Like there wasn’t even a fucking mission yet – I was simply just incapable of successfully killing the first few zombies that showed up haha.

Do you speak any other languages? Filipino.

Do you wear makeup? Occasionally.

How many times have you moved? That I can remember, twice. Once when I was 3 (it was a duplex and we just moved to the other home lol, but I vividly remember the stacks of furniture and belongings piled around me) and then when I was 10 when we settled into our current home.

What was the last food you ate? A chicken sandwich and fries. What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee.

Do you liked grilled cheese? Sure, it’s alright. Do you eat breakfast? I always skip it. Only time I have breakfast is occasionally on the weekends, or when we’re on a vacation. Otherwise, I just make iced coffee.

Do you have a cat? No.

What is your favourite childhood memory? The times we went to Tondo to visit my dad’s family. They’ve moved a couple times since, but Tondo is the place that has given me the fondest memories. It wasn’t the safest, most secure place, so it gave me a sense of freedom as a kid that I couldn’t really get in our own suburban neighborhood.

What was your favourite movie as a kid? I always liked Toy Story and to this day it’s still my favorite kids’ movie.

Have you ever dated someone online? No.

Do you like to take walks? Not really unless it’s with my dogs. I find it boring and tiring.

Are you going to college right now? I’m not, I graduated two years ago.

If so, what is your major? Journalism.

Do you like school? Depends on the grade. Grade school was awful across the board; first half of high school was just as awful but the second half was a complete 180; first year of college was the downright worst but the rest of it was some of the best years of my life so far. My dislike of change is probably what led to the fluctuations.

Do you keep a journal? If so how often do you write in it? I just have this survey blog. I’ve wanted to start journals but I always end up questioning what would be the point of it all if I’ve got this Tumblr anyway, lol.

Have you ever traveled outside of your country? Sure.

Do you chew gum? Very seldom.

Do you live in a big city? Nah. Metro Manila is what you’d call big. I live in one of the neighboring cities, which is just medium-sized, I’d say. 

How often do you go out to eat? Just a few times a month. I usually have food delivered, if I buy food at all.

What is the last movie you saw in theatres? Knives Out. I haven’t been interested in movies lately, so all the more am I not willing to pay 500 bucks for a ticket.

Have you ever dyed your hair? Yes! That’s a new thing I tried this year. First time it was brown, then I had it dyed to purple (which has since faded to be an ashy brown shade, but I still like it the same). Do you drink tea? No. Gave it many chances in the past but it’s just not for my tastebuds haha.

Do you subscribe to channels on youtube? Yeah, and I don’t usually unsubscribe so my list is pretty huge even though I only pay attention to a handful of channels now lol.

Do you have a tumblr? 😬

Do you watch anime? No. If you catch me watching any these days it’s most likely a movie; Kimi no Na wa is a big favorite.

Can you cook? Nope.

How old were you when you first started dating? I was around 16.

Are/Were your parents strict? Considering I’m nearly 25, am capable of driving, and have a job, they’re obviously not as strict as they were back in like high school. My mom still likes to impose a curfew but it’s not much of a problem since most of my friends want to head back home too by like midnight or 1 AM at the latest anyway.

Is your room messy? Yeah, it’s been messy. Mostly because I’ve been keeping all the Christmas gifts I’ve bought in a corner. Once I have them wrapped up and under our tree, my room would clear up again hahaha.

Do you have Netflix? We have a family account, so yeah.

Do you have any regrets? If so what do you regret? It’s more on things I regret not doing, like why did I not work on this task sooner? or why did I decline when this friend asked to hang out? type of things. How are your grades? They were fine. I had subjects that were extreme weaknesses of mine to the point that I repeatedly failed exams; but there were others I really excelled at. In the end my final averages always balanced out, I did well enough to never have to repeat a level or class, and I got by as an average/above-average student.

Do you get nervous easily? It depends on the situation. But in general my anxiety isn’t nearly as bad as it used to be.

What do you look for in a BF/GF? I’m not really looking for a partner at this point in time. I can’t even think of traits or qualities I can potentially like because I’m just that uninterested.

Have you ever written a song or poem? Only when they were assigned as homework. Creative writing was never my strong suit, and I was never proud of anything I made.

Have you ever written a short story or novel? I’ve attempted fanfic/one-shots when I was like 12-14 and they are just as cringey as you’d think.

Are/Were you in a school club? Joining clubs was also mandatory in my first school, so yes. In college, I was part of one organization. Do you play an instrument? Nope.

Where do you want to be in 5 years? More established in my career, more savings, ideally I have my own place by then. And I also wish my 29 year old self would be able to tell 2022-me that I have already travelled back to Korea and have since seen BTS hahaha.

What do you never leave the house without? Phone, charger, wallet with all my cards and IDs, vape pen, house key.

What food(s) do you refuse to eat? Just most fruits. Anything else I’m willing to put in my mouth lol.

Favourite candy? Gummy anything.

Do you have a good relationship with your mom? It’s definitely more stable, I’d say that much; but we’re not close. We don’t yell at each other nearly as much. I wouldn’t confide in her as both my parents aren’t the emotional/heart-to-heart/empathetic type, and my mom and I are very much fundamentally different regarding our values. As long as we’re not at each other’s throats, I’d consider that a good day.

Do you have a good relationship with your dad? Sure. Generally, he is easier to talk to and more relatable. He’s likelier to shun from emotional/sensitive topics so he’s also not a go-to person when I have problems, but I like having him around and I enjoy talking to him.

What did you have for dinner last night? We ordered in Army Navy and I got their Chipotle chicken sandwich and fries.

Do you wear glasses? I do.

Do you have any siblings? If so, do you get along with them? I don’t talk to my brother. My sister and I on the other hand, we have a great rapport and are quite close in a very BFF type of way.

Do you watch reality tv shows? If so which ones? Mostly Korean reality shows like I Live Alone and Return of Superman.

Do you listen to the Beatles? Nope.

Do you listen to No Doubt? I don’t.

Do you listen to Nirvana? No.

Do you listen to The Cure? No.

How many songs are on your iPod? I have Spotify.

What do you miss most about your childhood? Hard to answer considering my childhood years were never something to write home about. I miss...the things I did and used for fun, I guess? I was never a big fan of toys (they were too expensive), but I miss things like Pogs, fake Pokemon cards, the original stress ball made out of balloons and flour, fake MP3 players, those fake game consoles that gave you 500 games in one cartridge, pirated movie discs. 

How many pets do you have? Two.

What kind of pets do you have? They are both dogs.

What colour are the walls in your room? White.

Do you write "To-Do" lists? Yeah, I have this to-do masterfile on Sheets that I religiously update every shift.

Do you procrastinate often? Every now and then.

What is your favourite book? I don’t have any.

Did you hate any of your teachers? I hated a bunch of the teachers in my grade/high school. A lot of them behaved in a way that wouldn’t fucking fly today. Have you ever been depressed? Yes.

How do you handle stress? I turn to YouTube or games on my phone to calm down. What are you looking forward to? Going to more art galleries this week!

[angelatmidnight1]

Rampart Tickle Headcanons

I decided to scrap the old tickle headcanons for Rampart and Mirage cause I wasn’t feeling them. I like these a lot better, hope you guys like them too!

Lee:

Pushing an 8/10 for how ticklish she is, but she won’t be easy to get to.

It’s more likely that she’ll turn the tables on whoever is trying to tickle her.

The other option is that she’ll try to take the person’s head off.

“Ey, you lookin to keep yer hands? Best keep ‘em to yourself then.”

Tickling her isn’t for the weak; she’s the type to throw hands until she’s pinned down.

She has to be pinned down for her ler’s safety.

Worst spot are her ribs, and she’s most susceptible to gentle tickles.

If you knead the spaces between the ribs or, better yet, the fleshy part just underneath, she’ll snort.

She will threaten her ler the entire time, but it’s hard to take her seriously with how hard she’s laughing. 

As a ler, she dishes out teases like it’s going out of style. As a lee, it gets her flustered almost immediately.

So if you call her laughter cute (which it kinda is honestly), she’ll call you a bloody liar while laughing herself silly.

She’s as stubborn as she is ticklish, so if you’re trying to get her to do something, you’ll be there for a while.

But if you do manage to win the tickle fight, consider yourself among the elites.

…And look into new sleeping arrangements, because she’s coming for you.

Ler:

Ramya’s a hellraiser, and the same holds true when it comes to tickling

She trash talks people for fun, so if she finds out you’re ticklish, that’s just another reason to do it.

She’s a menace and pushes people’s buttons, so it didn’t take her long to figure out how ticklish you are.

She’ll jokingly call you weak and jab you in the side to make a point, but she wasn’t counting on you to squeal.

“That hurt? I barely touched ya! Damn, they’ll let anyone compete nowadays, huh?”

She’ll poke you again, gentler this time, and everything clicks when you giggle.

If you weren’t afraid of her before, now you should be.

Ramya’s ruthless and will tickle you for any reason under the sun.

If you don’t give her what she wants, she’ll tickle you.

If you do give her what she wants, she’ll tickle you anyway cause she’s bored.

She’s not afraid to scrap with anyone, so she has no problem wrestling you down.

Rougher tickles are normally her jam, but she’s not picky, as long as her victim is in stitches.

She’ll make fun of you as she’s wrecking you.

“Aw, ya ain’t gonna cry for yer mum, are ya? We’re just havin’ a good time! ...Well, I am, anyway.”

When she stops, she’ll say something like “Yeesh, you look like crap. Go fix yourself up...maybe brush your teeth while you’re at it.”

Don’t sass her unless you think you can take her on, or she’ll have you crying laughing.

[asphora]

Marigolds | csc

wc: 5,569 | angst, hanahaki disease, seungcheol x reader, f!reader, non-idol!verse, cursing, character death, tw:sickness, tw:death

a/n: I’ve been in a slump and in a really bad place recently, but out of nowhere this came to me and somehow writing it made me feel better? idk. Also, I recommend listening to Yiruma’s Prelude in Gm. It’s such a beautiful piece. Anyway, thank you.

Love can often look like so many things that don’t seem like love.

The night the world stops spinning is the night you see her for the first time. You’d known of her existence long before you’d even had the misfortune of laying your eyes on her, from stories and various retellings enthusiastically recounted to you by your group of 13 male friends. Their words had made her something of a phantasmagoric collection of enchanting and enigmatic quirks and traits, something otherworldly; brave and spontaneous, fun but equally intelligent. But for all their praise, you figured their words were just that. 

Nodding along as Seungcheol prattled on about her ardently, you silently listened, finding some semblance of solace knowing that there was no person without flaws. To you, she seemed more like a Monet than anything; something beautiful to behold, but only from a distance. The closer anyone got, surely the more the cracks would start to show and for all her magic and mystery, you figured soon enough the boys, particularly Seungcheol, would soon realize the truth: that there was no such thing as magic. Only real people, with their flaws and undone seams, haphazardly strewn together.

That night the music blared in your ears, despite coming from the next room where Soonyoung was drunkenly DJing. Around you were throngs of people, a mix of strangers and friends alike, bodies danced intoxicatedly moving to the beat reverberating through the walls of the frat-house. 

When you see him, you can’t fight the smile that spreads on your lips. Your hand is already raised, ready to wave him down and wrap him in the embrace you two always shared.  You don’t know it yet, but that night is different from all the others; the beginning of the end. 

It only takes him few steps more for you to see that his hand, which is usually stuffed into his pockets, is prettily decorated by her dainty one; milky skin seemingly unmarred by the harsh yellow lighting in the crowded living room and her ring finger ornamented by a big bright rock you recalled seeing at Seungcheol’s apartment a week prior. 

Immediately your hand falls to your side and you take a step back, disappearing effortlessly into the crowd as your watchful eyes are trained on the couple. She with her red silk dress that seemed to accentuate and hug her body in the most complimentary way, and him in his usual all black ensemble that definitely did not betray the senses, showcasing his toned body through the fabric. They looked more like they belonged on the front of some expensive travel or style catalogue. 

You would have described the pair as one that stuck out like a sore thumb, but that wasn’t the case. As they waded through the waves of people—his arms wrapped gently around her, never faltering in their protective hold on her—they seemed to put everyone else to shame. It wasn’t that they didn’t belong at this party, it was that they made everyone else look like they shouldn't have been there. 

As you watch them laughing and dancing, whispering, faces always close to each other’s, you realize that she is not the mirage you had made her out to be in your head. She’s everything they said she was, and even more, she bore his heart. 

“Seungcheol!” the bellowing voices of 13 other boys pull you from your thoughts and suddenly, you go from a passive by-stander simply basking in the glow of the couple, to the forefront of all the excitement as Mingyu finds you in the crowd and pulls you by the arm to where Seungcheol and the others are standing. 

Dark chocolate irises that you’ve known all your life and have practically memorized at this point meet your own and that’s the last color you register along with the sounds of cheering and shouting of joyous congratulations, before everything becomes a blur of motion as your legs will you through the halls of the frat house you practically lived at. After that all you see is orange—bright, fiery, blazing orange. 

As you sink onto the floor of Jihoon’s bathroom, vision bleary from the pain, you press your cheek onto the tile taking whatever comfort you can from their soothing coolness. 

‘Marigolds,’ you chuckle at the irony of just how fitting it is, the sound coming out more of a garbled cough than a laugh due to the burning in your throat, 'in the language of flowers, it meant despair, grief and jealousy.'

As you shift in and out of consciousness, the alcohol in your system working too well with the pain in your chest and throat, forcing you under, you reach your hand out, fingers trying to grasp at the orange blossoms. You hadn’t even made it to the toilet. 

‘Sorry Woozi,’ you think in your last moments of consciousness, ‘promise I’ll clean it later. It just hurts too much right now.’

And that’s how the said male finds you. 

Once the party is done, Jihoon retreats to his quarters only slightly tipsy since he wasn’t much of a drinker anyway like the rest of the guys. There you are, passed out in the middle of his bathroom floor, lying in what at first glance seemed to be clouds of fire.

If he hadn’t know exactly what he was looking at, he would’ve thought the sight to be beautiful, immaculate even; your  limp form swimming in a sea of marigolds, hands outstretched and gripping some of the fresh blooms in your hands, dark hair splayed out across the flowers in stark contrast to the vibrant orange beneath, and your face though tearstained was adorned with loose petals sticking to your skin. 

His bathroom had never smelled so nice, he thought despite knowing you’d vomited these flowers. Never in his life had he seen Marigolds as vibrant as these, so alive and in full bloom, as though spring had come in the middle of winter to take up residence in his bathroom; the sight would put Demeter to shame. But he knew the truth of it; this sight was anything but that of life. You were dying. 

***

“You have to get the surgery, y/n.” Jihoon sighs the words onto the skin of your forearm where there are various tubes sticking out of you, seemingly the only things keeping you somewhat alive. 

You can tell by the way he says it that he’s beyond exhausted, that these are words that he’s tired of saying, that this is a plea he and all the other 11 boys from your friend group are tired of begging you for. You don’t say anything, and your silence only makes him more irked. 

“If you aren’t going to get the surgery, at least tell him the truth,” Jihoon attempts to reason with you, “he deserves to know the truth, or even just the chance to save his best friend. You can’t avoid him forever, and you sure as hell can’t just suddenly die and leave him wondering how the fuck that happened.” 

Jihoon’s crass words make you laugh, a breathy quiet chagrin that slips from your lips sounding more like a cough than mirth. He’s so fed up with you that he doesn’t even bother to choose his words wisely, not like how he was when this all started a month ago. 

“He hasn’t even tried to visit me.” At that he rolls his eyes.

“Because you won’t let him. You won’t even let us tell him that you’re in the hospital. As far as he knows your back home with your parents getting better, not here in Seoul, in a hospital, fucking dying.”

This time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes and admonish him, albeit weaker compared to his display. “I get it Woozi, I’m dying, I don’t have much longer to live. Tell me something the doctors haven’t, I get it—”

“No, you don’t!” His booming voice suddenly cuts you off. For the first time in your long friendship with him, he raises his voice at you. 

“You don’t get it,” you watch him as he shakes his head, “you say you get it, that you know you’re dying, but you don’t. You’re acting like this is a small thing, that it’ll go away sooner or later, but it isn’t. It’s either you get the surgery or you’re dead, done, gone forever. There won’t even be anything left of you to love that oblivious, unworthy asshole you call your best friend.

“A real best friend would be more worried about you, would be here, breaking down doors and begging me and the rest of the guys to let him see you, he’d at the very least, demand to be able to visit you and not be running around having fun with his whatever-she-is while you’re dying.” 

Tears fill Jihoon’s eyes as he paces, arms angrily flailing as he rants to and at you. That’s when Wonwoo, seemingly forgotten in the corner, ever the quiet spectator and your next closest friend after Jihoon and Seungcheol, steps in to place a calming hand on Jihoon’s heaving chest. 

“Jihoon,” Wonwoo’s thick baritone pierces through the sound of Jihoon’s angry breaths, “that’s enough. Look at her, she’s crying.” 

You hadn’t realized it until Wonwoo had pointed out, but your face was hot with moisture, and your patient’s gown was soaked down the front with the tears that had run off your face. Jihoon seeing this seems to snap out of his trance, his stance relaxing and his eyes growing soft. 

“Sorry, y/n, I-I didn’t mean, I—”

“It’s okay Jihoonie,” you hadn’t used that nickname in a long time, not since Seungcheol had practically thrown a fit, banning you from calling any of the others by cute nicknames, “it’s okay, don’t be sorry, I get it.” 

Giving him and Wonwoo the warmest smile you can muster in your weakened state, you open your arms out for them, their strong sturdy forms quick to bend to fill the tiny space of your arms, wrapping your frail form in their own warmth. 

“Don’t worry,” you whisper the words onto the tops of their heads, petting the hair there, “I get it, I do. You don’t have to be sorry. I’m scared too.” 

The admission of your own fear wracks a brand-new sob through your chest that you hadn’t known you were holding back, and immediately you’re crying a fresh batch of tears onto the fabric of their shirts. 

“I don’t want to die,” you wail despite the scratching of your throat as you clutch the fabric of their shirts into clenched fists, “but I can’t, I don’t want to—I can’t do it. If I get the surgery, I’ll forget, and I can’t— 

“I can’t live in a world where I don’t know Seungcheol, where I don’t know his smile or the sound of his voice and his laughter, where I don’t know that he’s a cry baby and that his favorite kind of movies are romcoms, even  though he’ll never admit it to anyone but me.

“I’m scared too, but it’s not just dying,” you sob, “what kind of life would it be if I stopped knowing him? If I couldn't even remember the only love I’ve ever known?”

***

Weeks pass in a blur of burning orange speckled with blotches of vibrant red; hospital bins filled to the brim with orange marigolds drenched in bile and blood; nurses carrying and disposing more and more beautiful bright bouquets of marigolds each passing day. 

“The marigolds are really pretty, at least.” Soonyoung absentmindedly remarks as he watches a nurse file out of the room, two trash bins in hand, brimming with freshly puked flowers. 

Seungkwan who stands beside him gives the hin a look of complete outrage, nudging Soonyoung’s side a little too harshly with his elbow, making the blonde yelp in pain. Jihoon who’s sitting at your bedside only rolls his eyes at the insensitivity, while the rest of the boys stand around awkwardly and apologetically. 

The tense sight of almost all your closest friends standing around as if they were at your funeral rather than just your hospital room only makes you laugh into the receptacle on your mouth, cursing the restraining contraption despite it being the only thing that’s managed to help you breathe throughout this whole ordeal. 

Shifting up weakly, you move to sit up in your hospital bed to get a better look at the boys.  Jihoon’s hands are quicker than your frail body though, as he tries to keep you lying down.

“C’mon, Hoonie, I’m dying, not losing my sense of humor,” you shrug his hands away and Mingyu’s takes their place to sit you up, “what Soonyoung said was funny.” 

“I’m not offended, it’s funny. I mean, they are pretty, right? It would suck if I was dying and the flowers exploding out my gut were fucking ugly as shit. Could you imagine puking roses? Ugh, how generic,” you chuckle, upping the dramatics and giving Soonyoung a wink along with a mirthful grin which he sheepishly returns. 

You glance at Seungkwan who’s trying to bite down his smile and you offer him your own wide one, “bet you never had a flower shop for a friend, huh?” And at that, the others who’d spent most of this time awkwardly standing around, the same way they did every week when they came to visit, finally let out their laughter. 

You laugh along with them as much as your lungs will allow and you shake Jihoon’s shoulder, as if the gesture will shake the frown off of his face as you whine, “C’mon, please don’t be mad, Jihoon. I’m dying, you’re not allowed to be mad at me.”

“She kinda has a point, Hyung.” Vernon, feeling more relaxed after your joke, takes a seat at the foot of your bed and shrugs at the older male.

“Dying friend trumps angry friend,” you shrug, smiling brightly at Vernon who just pets your leg affectionately. Despite his irritation, Jihoon watches the exchange and visibly softens, patting your head just as sweetly and giving you half a smile. “Whatever, you’re stupid.” 

“By the way, where’s Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, changing the topic effectively, “isn’t he supposed to be here, too?” 

“He said he’s running late,” Jihoon checks the clock, noting that the male is never usually this late, “he said he had to pick up something before—” as if on cue, the male in question rushes through the doors of your hospital room, panting and sweaty. 

“What the heck, Woo? Did you run all the way here?” you laugh at his disheveled state, “don’t you have a car—” just as quickly as he makes it through the door, your words die on your tongue, finally seeing just what it was he had to pick up, rather who.

“Seungcheol.” The world seems to stop for a moment when your eyes meet his, and everyone in the room becomes as still as statues, the playful mood from earlier quickly dissolving into wordless tension. 

It feels like eons before someone breaks the palpable stiffness in the room, but it’s Wonwoo’s voice that slices through it and breaks the trance you and Seungcheol are locked in, “I’m sorry, y/n.” 

“What the actual fuck, Wonwoo!” This is the loudest your voice has ever managed to be since you arrived at the hospital and the strain burns your throat so much that you start coughing violently, gasping desperately for air as a fresh wave of nausea hits you and the rest of the boys can tell right away by the panicked look in your eyes. 

Vernon, who’s closest to the new trash bin is quick to grab it, placing it in front of you on your lap, while Mingyu’s hands efficiently remove the breathing receptacle from your face. Jihoon reacts like it’s his second nature to pull your hair out of your face and hold it behind you, while Wonwoo moves to your side to gently stroke your back, cooing soft encouraging whispers into your ear as bright orange starts to assault your senses, blurring your vision and filling the room with sickly sweet scent of marigolds along with the sounds of your violent retching. Soonyoung and Seokmin are quick to leave the room, saying they’ll call a nurse for an extra bin while the rest sit to the side, not even an inkling of panic on their faces. 

It all happens so fast, with such lighting precision and rehearsed accuracy that Seungcheol is sure that this isn’t the first time his closest friends have been through this. He realizes quickly that he’s the only one who hadn't known. 

Once you're done unloading your flowery guts into the bin, Minghao is already ready with a moist towelette to wipe away any dribble along your lips. Your weak gaze manages to meet Seungcheol’s confused but visibly enraged ones, but you don’t speak. Not for lack of ability to, but because there was nothing left to say. The jig was up, he knew. 

“What the fuck, y/n?” Seungcheol’s voice is booming and you almost laugh at how often you’d heard those words in the span of time you’d been in the hospital, but his next words cease any coherent thought you might have, “who is he? Tell me, y/n, who the fuck is he, I’ll kill him.”

Confused, your eyes dart from the angry eyes of the subject of your affections, to the bespectacled ones of your other best friend who was still standing beside you, hands unwaveringly rubbing gentle, soothing circles onto your back. 

“Woo?” 

“I thought you should be the one to tell him.” He explains, eyes apologetic. 

“I swear to god, y/n! Is this where you’ve been the past two months?” Seungcheol, ever the impulsive and quick to anger person he is, doesn’t even register the moment that passes between you and Wonwoo, “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell your best friend! We’ve been through everything together, and I would do anything for you but you were just going to go through all of this, all alone, without me?” 

You only laugh at how he was exactly the same Seungcheol you’d always remembered. Two torturous months had passed and while the time had seemed to trudge on slowly for you, the time feeling like eternities without him, it had flown by for him and he had emerged from the other end practically unscathed; you were dying, and in a way, he was literally killing you with heartbreak but all he could think about was how you could have the audacity to leave him out of your own illness and death. 

Classic Seungcheol. It might have seemed unbearably selfish of him, but this was also part of why you loved him so dearly. He was so innocent, so caught up in his own heart that he barely registered anyone else’s, but it also meant that once he treasured someone, he would do anything, sacrifice anything for them. His one-track mind and heart would never let him be or do anything less; if Seungcheol had to give you the world just so that you might live, he would die trying to get it. 

It was exactly why you had wanted to leave him out of it. You knew that he was too kind, too self-sacrificing to the point of selfishness, too caught up in his own emotions that he would never understand your choice to not have the surgery—to die. 

“Sorry, Cheolie,” you try to smile despite the sob that gets caught in your throat, “I just thought it would be better this way.” 

At your words, he immediately unclenches and finally all the anger that wracks his body seems to dissipate from him until all that’s left in his irises is confusion and hurt. "You don’t have to do this. You can just have the surgery,” he coaxes, walking over to your bedside where he takes your hand in his, gently rubbing the skin there with his thumb before gently pressing it to his lips, closing his eyes as he does so. 

“But I can’t, Cheolie, I can’t forget—” you almost slip up and say ‘you’, but you swallow it down and Seungcheol is quick to take the reigns of the conversation again. 

“You can! You can forget that bastard! Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve you, your love, or your death.” He pleads, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. 

“You don’t know that Seungcheol,” the first time in a long time you’d used his first name, “he doesn’t deserve me, he deserves better, you just don’t know—” 

“I don’t want to know! If he really loved you, he wouldn’t be letting you die here all alone—”

“But I’m not alone!” you try to argue, but Seungcheol isn’t having any of it, he’s too riled up again, too in his pain to let you explain anything to him.

“No, y/n! For fuck’s sake, listen to me! If he can’t love you when you’re fucking willing to die for him, then he’s not gonna love you even after you’re dead! And there’s no use dying just to remember someone who doesn’t love you!” he heaves, “isn’t it better to just be alive not remembering someone who could never love you?”

Everyone stood around you, eyes wide and tensely watching, awaiting your response with bated breath. His words hurt. More than anything, they felt like a death sentence, an indirect confirmation that Seungcheol could never and would never return your feelings. Fighting the marigolds bubbling in your chest threatening to spill out, you can only shake your head, smiling at him as tears finally spill from your eyes.

It takes everything in Jihoon not to punch the lights out of Seungcheol as everyone watches you cry, but Wonwoo’s firm grip on Jihoon’s arm is warning enough that you wouldn’t want them fighting with each other. 

“It’s okay,” you finally manage the words, and everyone but Seungcheol knows that the words are more for everyone else in the room, “I know you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to.

“You’re not meant to; it’s not for you to understand. This is mine.” Seungcheol meets your eyes and in them he sees a finality that he has never seen before, a certainty unmarred by fear or sadness. “So, I don’t care if you’re mad at me, or if you don’t agree. You don’t have to, you just have to be my friend and sit this one out, okay?” 

Your eyes scan through the room, meeting the eyes of all your closest friends, asking for their silent agreement to both keep your secret but also to no longer question your decision. “Just be my friend and sit with me till—” 

“Till the end.” Wonwoo finishes when you’re unable to, voice shaky from overuse and the emotions. 

The night the world ends is the day your heart finally stops. For three days prior you’d been in a medically induced coma, the doctors explaining to Jihoon and all your friends that it would be too much, too painful to keep you awake while your body slowly failed; your lungs slowly filling with blood, fluid and marigolds, its roots constricting the far too weakened organ tighter and tighter until your system would eventually crash from the lack of oxygen. Ultimately suffering from a long and arduous suffocation.

When you go, it isn’t peaceful or serene like the books or the movies often say it is. Your body is a mess of convulsions and painful retching fits. Despite being sedated, you're gasping for air; your body seemingly clawing onto life and fighting to preserve itself despite your heart telling it to let go. As the last of your struggle and life dissipates from your body, you’re surrounded by the same friends who’d kept you company throughout this whole ordeal. 

Till the end, even on the days you could no longer talk, or wake up to even see them, they had stayed. Some talked to you, sometimes telling you stories, reading you your favorite books, and even saying their goodbyes one by one. Even Seungcheol, who despite his bursts of anger and frequent tantrums that had him walking out, always returned to keep his promise and just sit with you. 

That night, there were no marigolds like when Jihoon had first found you, it was not beautiful or immaculate. There was no portrait of you sprawled in a field of bright golden flowers. Instead, there were only bloodied, wilting petals scattered at your bedside and sticking to your skin and robes, the orange barely visible through the blood that stained them. Your frame was the smallest they’d ever seen it and you were completely pale, the only color on you was the blood that had caked and dried at your lips and wherever else it had splattered, along with the mess of withering petals.

When the flatline finally echoes through your tiny ICU room, with 13 cramped bodies, not including the doctors and nurses, no one says anything. Wonwoo is the first to crack, taking your limp hand in his, pressing the lifeless limb to his lips then falling to his knees and finally breaking down completely for the first time. Everyone else follows suit. 

Your distant relatives had settled the arrangements for the funeral, deciding to have it in Seoul where you would be surrounded by all your friends and most beloved ones. They are kind and understanding, despite not having been close with you and they thank everyone who attends graciously. All your friends attend, Seungcheol even brings his girlfriend for moral support and she does just that. You would’ve been happy that he had her shoulder to cry on, Jihoon thinks as he watches them.

The night Seungcheol’s world stops is a week after your passing. Jihoon invites Seungcheol to go out with him and Wonwoo. When he meets the pair at the park, sitting on a bench, all three of them almost laugh at how much of a similar state they’re all in; eyes puffy with dark circles underneath to match, and faces swollen from sleepless nights spent crying. 

“If y/n were here, she’d laugh at how bad we look,” Wonwoo laughs, the first to break the silence, “she’d never let us live it down.”

“I miss her.” Seungchol breathes out the words into a puff of cold exhalation. At the words, Jihoon feels his fists clench, a sudden rage washing over him, but Wonwoo is quick and takes it upon himself to perform the difficult task at hand instead of Jihoon. 

“You should know, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo sadly meets the gaze of his friend, forcing the words and choking down the tears in his throat, “it was you.”

“Y/n didn’t want us to tell you, she was kind that way,” Jihoon runs a hand through his locks, fighting the tears, “but we’re not as kind.”

“We thought you deserved to know.” Wonwoo clarifies, not letting Jihoon’s anger cloud their actual purpose. 

“She was in love with you, she always has been,” Jihoon sighs, recounting the conversation he had with you a few weeks prior to you being comatose. 

“There’s still time, y/n. I know I said I would drop it, I’m sorry, but you can’t blame a guy for trying to save his best friend, right?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“It’s okay, Hoonie, I understand.” Till the very end, you were kind despite your pain.

“You know why marigolds?” your eyes look to Wonwoo sitting by Jihoon then trail off to the view outside your window. “When I first arrived in Seoul, he was my first friend. I met him in a field of marigolds. I’d fallen and scraped my knee. It was really bad actually, I had to get stitches after. I remember trying so hard not to cry, because I was a big girl and this was the big city and I just felt like there were no room for tears here, y’know?”

You laugh at the memory, “out of nowhere this big kid comes running at me asking if I’m okay. While I tried not to cry, telling him I was okay, he took one look at the gaping wound and all the blood on my skirt and he started crying so loudly.

He was so dramatic that it almost made me forget how much it hurt, and I could laugh even just a little at him. So overly emotional, that boy.” You shake your head. “Anyway, I ask him why he’s crying, and this obviously much older and taller boy bawls at me saying ‘it looks like it hurts, doesn’t it hurt? And you’re not crying so I’ll just cry for you’.”

“He cried so much that his parents eventually found him and me, and brought me to the hospital to get stitches. I’ve been with him ever since. We were so young back then. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember…”

Finally looking back at Jihoon who now sees the fresh tears in your eyes, “but I-I don’t want to forget, Jihoon. I don’t want to forget him or who he helped me become.”

“And I knew, you know?” chuckling mirthlessly, your eyes shift to Wonwoo’s sad eyes as they watch your sadder ones, “I knew he couldn’t feel that way about me, I knew he didn’t love me, but I adored him anyway. There were times I thought, maybe, maybe he’d finally see me...”

 Turning back to Jihoon, you could only shrug, “but we all know how that turned out.” 

“She always loved you, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo interjects, ending Jihoon’s retelling and watching as the older male’s eyes fill with tears.

“But why didn’t she—why couldn’t she just have told me? She could’ve just been honest.” 

“We all know that wasn’t an option,” it’s Jihoon’s turn to interrupt this time, “you were engaged, and she wasn’t going to ever let herself get in the way of that.” 

A silence passes between them at his words. It was true. No matter how Seungcheol looked at it and flipped it around in his head, you were far too selfless to do anything so cruel, and knowing you, the last thing you’d want was to make it any harder on him. You were no angel, but you were a good person, the best he knew, but he also knew you could be selfish to a certain extent. Instead of just going through with the surgery, you suffered painfully till the very end, and all to preserve memories of someone who he now knew didn’t even deserve to be remembered, all because he was too blind and too wrapped up in his own heart to see it, to see you. 

“I love you; I’m waiting for you unbearably.” Wonwoo’s eyes are closed as he whispers the words into the emptiness of the starless night sky. The two males stare at him wordlessly as if waiting for an explanation and after taking his time, letting the moment pass, he does. 

“It was a quote y/n really loved, from a book she recommended to me a while back.” He smiles fondly at the memory, “during her last days, sometimes she’d whisper it in her sleep.”

They sat there in silence for what seemed like hours, wordlessly comforting each other by just being there. As they stayed there, basking in the stillness and calm that seemed to envelope the rest of the universe; your death felt like the world had ended, but here it was, continuing to spin through the vastness of the cold October night sky; blissfully ignorant of your passing. Even in that emptiness, there was comfort and somehow, they could almost feel you; just there, sitting with them till the end. 

Seungcheol is the first to stand to leave, whispering a hoarse thank you to the two before turning to head to his car and driving off, home to his fiancé. Wonwoo and Jihoon don’t say anything more. It’s Jihoon who decides when it’s finally time to leave. He turns to Wonwoo, beckoning to the male with a nod. 

“Let’s go, Woo.” 

“Do you think it will hurt?” Jihoon doesn’t look at him as he drives, but quirks his brow, confused by his question. 

“What, the surgery?” 

It takes a moment before Wonwoo can respond. He’s perfectly calm, looking out the window at the streaks of passing light as he shakes his head, “no. Forgetting.”

The words take Jihoon by surprise, but he doesn’t show it, not wanting to worry him any further. Instead, he gives him a comforting smile, the first hint of sincere softness on his face since you had been admitted to the hospital, and shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t think so. I think it only hurts when you know you’re forgetting. But once you’ve forgotten, then there has to be some relief in that, right? To be able to be a blank slate. A new start, she would have wanted that for you.” 

Wonwoo only nods, closing his eyes as he takes in the younger’s words. 

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo,” Jihoon’s hand is a comforting warmth on his shoulder, “even when you can’t remember her anymore, I’ll remember her for the both of us.”

Fin.

[juliepop]

New Years Resolutions

New Years Resolutions

[Miragehound Fic] AO3 Link: here

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (

A/N): Wow, who doesnt post for a year and comes back just to drop some fluff? Me. Hi, I've had a really shitty year and I needed to write something to make myself feel better. This is dedicated to I. They're the person who pulled me out of a really dark spot and encouraged me to take time for myself and write a little.

Summary: Elliott was taking this New Years Resolution List making seriously, or he would be if Renee wasn't insistent on ruining everything. A new addition on his little list was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. 

"You're really funny, hysterical even," Elliott grumbled, snatching his list of Renee's hands before she could deface it anymore. She frowned at him as he crumpled it a little before curiosity got the better of him, he had to know what was written. Glancing down, Elliott almost choked at her little addition before he made sure this time to make a paper ball and hurled it at her head.

Renee caught it, of course. Pesky voices not even letting him get away with his dignity as she tossed it back, and it bounced off his chest when he wasn't fast enough to catch it. That was totally cheating.

"Elliott Witt, you are a baby."

"You're a baby," Elliott mocked, snatching his paper off the floor because he just cleaned that, and there was no way he would live down someone finding that as he tucked it in his back pocket for safekeeping.

Renee, to her credit, only bared her teeth at him, the little gremlin pointing a finger at him as if she could tell he was calling her names in his head before she pulled the concerned mom face. Shit. "What are you so afraid of? Out of everyone else I've seen Bloodhound interact with, you're the only person I've seen who they let pet their bird. The worst thing they can say is no."

"Uh, are you forgetting who we're talking about? This is the person we watched take five knives out of nowhere once, five. I'm pretty sure they had more, but it only took five of them before the security gave up and just let them pass."

That was a pleasant memory; Elliott could vividly recall how the devs had demanded all the legends stop sneaking weapons onto the dropship and set up a metal detector. Bloodhound set it off every single time they walked through, and for every attempt, they pulled out yet another wickedly long hunting knife from their coat until finally, the security guard gave up. It was a little funny at the time, maybe even a tiny bit sexy, but Elliott wouldn't ever admit to that. Probably. "What if my conf-confec-ugh. What if I say my feelings and they get offended? I'm too pretty to die."

"Pretty annoying, yeah," Renee muttered; Elliott made an offended noise before she reached out to set a hand on his arm. "Elliott, they're not going to stab you for having feelings. I mean, if they don't already know. You're kind of obvious."

"Me? I am so subtle!"

Renee stared at him for a moment, her gaze going from the top of his perfectly styled curls, the sleek yellow silk shirt that sparkled under the lights with every movement, the black leather pants and his designer ankle boots before staring him in the face.

"...okay, I meant I'm subtle about my feelings."

"You shot yourself in the foot the last time you teamed up with them because they complimented your wingman shot; you cracked your shield, Elliott. That isn't subtle."

He had done that.

Elliott winced at the memory, having taken down Bang's team with a few well-placed shots, and the next thing he knew, Bloodhound was clapping him on the shoulder. Murmuring how he'd done a powerful slatra of the enemy, and Elliott had tried to play it off, spinning his wingman around his finger to holster except the safety wasn't on. He'd struck his foot, the loud crack of his shield startling everyone there, and he wanted to die a little when they'd sweetly offered him a battery,

"Renee, you promised you wouldn't bring that up."

"It was on national television, Elliott. You were viral for a long time."

Over two million hits in one day, it was impressive and mortifying all at once.

"Listen, my main concern for the night is having this party go well. We can talk about that after. It's not like they're going to be here anyway, you know Bloodhound doesn't do parties."

"If they show, you have to tell them." Renee bartered, Elliott trying not to grin in victory because he was right. They never did parties, they were forced into one party a year for the anniversary of the games, and that was all.

"Deal."

Elliott Witt was wrong and stupid.

Bloodhound did come, they showed up precisely on time, and Elliott had nearly cried right then and there because they even greeted him softly at the door.

"Hallo, Mirage."

"Heh-ha-heeeeey, Hound! How's it hanging?" Smooth Elliott, really smooth.

They only offered a nod, mysterious and masked like always, and they smelt faintly of firewood, gunmetal and pine. Which is to say, Elliott was sniffing them, stepping close to offer a hand to shake as they wrapped leather-covered fingers around his and squeezed. "You want a tour?"

"Nei, I think I will find myself a place. Thank you, though, Mirage."

"Hey, we're outta the ring. You can call me Elliott."

"You look...nice." They muttered, the words so faint they're almost lost amidst the chattering of legends and music, but Elliott was focused solely on them. Just hearing the compliment made something in his stomach flutter, Elliott unable to stop himself from laughing softly in surprise and rubbing a hand over his beard, pretending he could rub the colour flooding his cheeks.

Elliott had heard compliments all night, some of them about the party decor, the food, or even his outfit, but this was the one that really made him feel something. He was a little bashful, fingers lingering against theirs as he slid his hand away reluctantly before offering a delighted grin. "I think you look really nice too."

"Takk," Bloodhound murmured, the moment interrupted as Octane yelled something about beer pong, and Elliott turned his head to make sure the idiot wasn't breaking anything when Bloodhound took that moment to leave.

When he faced forward again, they were gone, having found the armchair he'd tucked off to the side of the room to make space for the dancefloor and settling in. Elliott hadn't actually intended that chair to be a spot, it was blocked off by tall potted ferns lining the dance floor, but if that's where they felt most comfortable, that was okay.

He was just really pleased they even came.

Then less pleased when he heard Lifeline scream Octane's name before Elliott heard a deafening crash. Seriously ??

Two broken tables, a broken chair, and a cracked window later and Elliott was exhausted. Offering an open bar to a bunch of people who liked chasing each other and murdering their friends was dicey, it seemed alcohol brought out the crazy. Octane wanted to jump off things, Bangalore was drunk as a skunk and offering to fistfight people, and at one point, Rev had scuttled along the ceiling, and someone had screamed.

Okay, Elliott had screamed. Who the fuck does that? What the fuck does that? It must have been illegal somewhere.

Thankfully there were some ordinary people though, Gibby had brought along a special friend who seemed like an average person who didn’t want to break things. The dude was even kinda funny, and he had a knack for making the big guy laugh loudly, I mean, he totally wasn't as amusing as Elliott, but he was alright.

Even Crypto, the bitter old man had shown up, shamed into silence by sweet angel Nat when he tried to pick a fight with Elliott. A battle Ellie would have totally won, hands down. Stupid Crypie.

Midnight was coming up fast, though, and everyone seemed to be split off into their little groups, which was kinda nice. Octane was playing DJ and entertaining Ajay, Anita, Ramp, Loba, and Path. Crypto had struck up a conversation with Nat and Renee in a corner, the three of them looking real serious about something. Even Doctor Somers was there, she was talking to Caustic of all people, but those two seemed to be hitting it off and Elliott was only a little envious. Rev was nowhere to be seen thankfully or not thankfully. Elliott cast a glance up in fear, a little relieved when he didn't see the murder bot hanging there like a spider.

Then there was Elliott; he was taking his host duties really seriously and restocking the cute little finger food trays when he felt a hand land on his shoulder, Renee was reaching to steal an appetizer. She leaned against the table, expression a lot more relaxed than Elliott had ever seen her, and there was the faintest drunken flush across her cheeks as she cast a glance to Nat and Crypto. "So, I took your advice, and Natalie said she'd love to be my new year's kiss."

"Wait, my advice worked? You took it??" Elliott tried to very subtly show his approval for his friend, laughing and dragging Renee into a hug that she slapped out of with an annoyed noise.

He knew she secretly loved it though, her mouth quirking up at the corners while she tried to hide the almost smile. "I mean of course it worked. I am not just pretty; I'm clever."

"I guess sometimes you have good ideas. Maybe you should take my advice too then, ten minutes left until the new year and I know you haven't told them."

"Awh c'mon, Renee. You know I can't just march over there and do that, I have finger foods to resto—"

'Fuck the host duties, Elliott." Renee growled; Elliott was a little surprised to hear the gremlin swear before she forcibly took the tray from his hands and he was left staring in shock at his drunk friend. Well, he was staring down in shock. She was the size of a pissed off toddler. "Go talk to them. Now. You have five minutes before I march over there and bring them to you."

"You wouldn't--" Elliott started, stopping when he saw the look in her eyes and yeah, he thought she just might. Peeking over to see if anyone was listening, Elliott froze when he noticed Bloodhound's mask was pointed in his direction before he blinked and shook it off.

Of course they weren't looking at him, he was just in the middle of the room, and that's how they were sitting. Inhaling sharply through his nose, Elliott turned back and looked at Renee, who started picking at the food on the tray and stuffing her face. "I'm scared."

"I promise I'll watch over you two, make sure they don't pull out a knife."

"Haha, really funny. You're hilarious; you know that, right?"

"You're stalling. Four minutes now." Renee murmured, Elliott swallowing hard as he realized that there is a limited amount of time left, and he cleared his throat before asking real quietly if he looked okay. Renee's gaze softened, reaching up to smooth his collar for a second before she smiled crookedly. "You're a knockout, Elliott. Now go."

So he went.

Elliott tried to quiet his racing heart down as he walked, talking himself up in his head as he kept his gaze glued to his boots. He looked great, and Bloodhound was a...they were a friend. Everything would be okay, he would go over there, chat them up a little, and he could inform Renee he tried to tell them but it didn't work out. Easy.

His palms were sweating as Elliott walked up, aware he'd reached the point of no return as he saw the bottom edge of the ferns before he jerked his head up and caught sight of them again.

Bloodhound had tucked their chair even further behind the potted plants, hidden by their little jungle but he could see they were comfortable. They'd taken off their hunting coat, the jacket casually laid over the back of the armchair, and that left them in an oversized sweatshirt that did nothing to hide how broad their shoulders were as Bloodhound cocked their head at him.

They were wearing some kind of layered outfit, a turtle neck that covered their neck completely and a baggier layer over it that mostly obscured their body from view with matching pants and thick sole boots.

Overhead, Elliott had strung up fairy lights for the room's lighting, rows and rows of soft white lights glinting off their goggles and the metal parts of their mask as Bloodhound watched him draw closer. His mouth was bone dry, tongue trying to smooth over his lips, but Elliott felt like that didn't help as he took a shallow breath before clearing his throat.

Be cool.

"H-hh-hi Bloodhound!"

"Hello, Mirage," Bloodhound answered; Elliott was telling himself they did not intentionally sound soft just for him. He only ever heard them talk in the ring; Bloodhound tended to murmur commands there, and discussed creative ways to kill their fellow legends instead of small talk. The rare moments he saw them not in a tense situation were few and far between, not for his lack of trying though. Bloodhound wasn’t a big talker, they kinda tended to offer up two-word answers and stared a lot. It was cute.

Elliott liked how their accent sounded like this, though, casual and soft. Like they were having an intimate conversation, instead of Elliott stuttering over basic words and bothering them like was currently happening.

"Are you uh, do you like the party?"

"It has been an experience." They answer after a moment, the faintest hint of something lurking in their tone as they nod toward the gathering legends with their gazes glued to the holoscreen with a large timer counting down. Shit, two minutes. "I do not attend most events, but I wished to accept your invitation for this."

"Oh, I'm glad you came," Elliott says, hoping his sincerity rings through as he glances at the dwindling amount of time until the new year before he looks back. "I know parties aren't your thing, but it makes me happy you're here."

Their blank mask doesn't change, there's no discernible way Elliott can even tell what's going on behind it, but he swears he feels them smile at him for a moment. It's kind of like being trapped in a cold dark room for years and stepping outside for the first time, feeling the warmth of the sun against your face and letting it soak into your frigid core.

His mouth curved upward, returning what he hoped was a smile from them and not Elliott developing a sudden fever or something when Octane broke the moment with a shout.

"One more minute, amigos!"

"What? That went by so fast!" Elliott sputtered, caught off guard by everything as everyone behind readies themselves.

"So it did. Do you wish to go join them for the countdown?" Bloodhound asked, nodding toward the gathering crowd of legends standing near the holoscreen and readying up their party poppers and chattering. Elliott glanced over, seeing everyone seemed to be paired up already, smiling faces turned toward the timer slowly ticking down. He almost jumped when he turned back, realizing Bloodhound was standing with their coat back on magically and looked like they were ready to go.

"Are you leaving?" Elliott blurted out, unable to stop himself from sounding disappointed as he hears everyone behind counting down from twenty.

"I do not wish to keep you longer."

"Ten, nine, eight… "

"Keep me? I'd love if you kept me."

“Mirage…”

"...Four, three, two, one! Happy New Year! "

Behind everyone breaks out in cheers, the sound of fireworks going off muffled behind the thick glass panes of the windows to the side, but they still make colours dance across the room as the legends all set off their party poppers.

Bloodhound and Elliott both watch everyone breaking off in couples, Elliott laughing when he saw Octane drag Ajay into a kiss only to get slapped a few moments later, the medic calling him a grabby jackass. He sighed wistfully, surprised when Bloodhound put a hand on his shoulder.

"Is something wrong?"

"Usually, my New Years' kiss is my mom; it sucks being so far away from home."

"A kiss is a..tradition?" They ask slowly, head tilting in that distractingly cute way, and Elliott laughs a little at how lost they sound.

"Yeah, it's about str-stren-ugh, making ties with people stronger and stuff. That or not being lonely all year." Elliott answered, gesturing to the other legends, who were either kissing or hugging one another.

The fireworks outside were still going off, shooting various colours into the sky, but that was all hard to keep track of when Bloodhound used their hand on his shoulder to pull him behind the ferns. "Uh, Hound?"

Bloodhound's hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, Elliott inhaling sharply as they yanked their respirator down, and his brain kind of shut down when their lips pressed against his. They tasted like orange juice, he realized, Bloodhound already drawing away and Elliott kind of flounders at the idea that his only kiss with Bloodhound was going to be a peck, before he wound his arms around their neck and he pulled them closer.

They gasp, fingers squeezing the back of his neck in surprise, and Elliott closes his eyes and kisses them for all he's worth. Bloodhound is stiff at first, and that's the moment he wondered if they were gonna stab him for pushing a boundary when they slowly softened and hesitantly moved their mouth under his. It felt like they were trying to copy his movements, Elliott sparing a second to wonder if maybe they didn't have a lot of experience before he thinks fuck it and licks against the closed seam of their lips.

Bloodhound shudders in his arms, lips parting on a shaky sigh, and Elliott takes advantage to lick past their teeth, and it's extra confirmed they were drinking juice all night when he gets an actual taste. It's endearing and hot, and all the positive things he can't think of at the moment because he was currently kissing Bloodhound like his life depended on it. Honestly, it just might if this pissed them off.

They gradually relaxed further though, the hands that were gripping his neck and now balled in his shirt as Elliott rocks up on his toes to press against them fully. They were a little taller than him, something he was secretly thrilled about as his hands slid from their neck and down their arms for a moment when Bloodhound pulled away with a soft gasp.

They were breathing hard, Elliott cursing the fact they were tucked away in such a dark corner because he could only see part of their face and the parts he almost made out were gorgeous. Kiss swollen lips, faint spiderwebs of scars laced along their cheeks and jaw, and—

"Hound?" Elliott asked concerned when they sounded like they were choking between pants, a hand lifting as if to ward him off for a moment as they lifted their respirator back in place to take a measured breath with a soft hiss. It's then that it connects that they might need the thing, Elliott parting his lips on an apology when they use the hand they were holding in front of him to cup his cheek instead. Leather rubs over his cheekbone softly, Bloodhound breathing deeper breaths from their respirator and he settles down.

"Do not worry, vinur. I was surprised; you had taken my breath."

Now Elliott knew they meant literally, but he couldn't help the soft smile curling his lips at the idea of Bloodhound calling him breathtaking as he leans into their palm for a second. He was still worried, but already they seemed to be back to normal as he could see the deep and even breaths they were taking. "You took my breath too, but in a good way. I uhm, I don't know if you meant the kiss to be romantic, but I--"

"It was meant to convey romantic feelings, yes." They interrupt, their tone brooking no argument, and Elliott gapes at them like a big dumb fish for a second before they rub a gloved thumb over his bottom lip, and he snaps his mouth closed with a flush. "I apologize for using your tradition for such a thing, but I could not let the opportune moment pass."

"I u-uh, y-yha- uh." God, he was choking so hard. Elliott felt his face heat more, cursing his stutter as he blabbered more broken consonants before taking a sharp breath and recalling something. Reaching into his back pocket Elliott takes out the crumpled paper, holding it out to Bloodhound, who glances at it before delicately accepting and smoothing it out. When they get to the last line, he can see fingers tightening on the paper before they raise their head to look at him.

"I like you; please date me." Elliott manages to get out, almost impressed by how smooth that came out, considering he was blubbering random noises a second ago. Bloodhound doesn't answer right away, well, verbally anyway.

A hand settles back on his face, Bloodhound already pulling their respirator down again, and this time Elliott is very ready for the kiss they plant on him. Unknown to either of them, Renee is watching, holding out a twenty-dollar bill, which Natalie takes gleefully.

"For someone who can see the future, you are quite bad at bets."

"I blame Elliott; he's too slow."

"The hand on Bloodhound's butt says otherwise," Crypto mutters, gagging into his drink and Renee can't help but smirk a little. Yeah, she was definitely going to tell Elliott about that later. Maybe after he finished making out with his new date-mate, the trio tilting their heads as they watched Elliott shove Bloodhound against the wall, and Renee swiftly put a hand over Natalie's eyes when it gets a lot more R-rated.

Maybe she would hold off telling him until tomorrow. They looked like they would be busy for a while.

Renee’s mouth ticks up into a smile.

Finally.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Corrupted Angel

For twitter user @/EnEssTimesTwo bc I fell in love with her vampire Bloodhound art and this is based off one of her art images which I can’t seem to link back to!

Summary: Essentially a monster au where human Elliott is a burlesque/exotic dancer who has caught the eye of a owl masked person who tips very well yet is too damned polite when Elliott just wants them to grab him and make him a meal. Not knowing, well, what kind of meal they’d really want.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Mirage

Warning: NSFT/R18+, monster au involving vampire Bloodhound, Bloodhound has body mods so if you don’t like those!, Elliott has a fang kink, Bloodhound’s nasty oral fixation, basically Mirage’s dick is a caprisun and Bloodhound is Hungry, nothing really like ‘terrible’ in here as far as kinky just oral and some dirty dancing.

Words: 7k

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In a world like this, getting clients that were of inhuman breed wasn’t so uncommon.  

Other folk, or commonly known as the monster breeds of their species, were just as normal to have around as humans were. Beasts of great heights and strengths covered head to toe in fur and too many arms, or to the more human looking ones with sharp teeth and a wicked grin, to the ghostly apparitions that haunted your very heart.  

Elliott had been one of four children to end up being a human. His brothers had all been lycanthropes like his mama, Maria, while he took after his mom Evelynn. Not that it had been too big of a deal, just that his brothers had a higher appetite than himself and he needed to learn to not laugh when his eldest turned into the fluffiest little wolf pup he’d ever seen.  

Old memories that would forever fill him with nostalgia and happiness, he missed them dearly.  

Elliott nowadays kept himself busy at the club he worked at. Twirling on poles, racking in delicious clientele who were to die for in their own very beauty, dancing and working them up in certain costumes. He was a crowd pleader, widely beloved in the club as one of the best around. A beautiful tease with an  award-winning  smile.  

~Rest under the cut~

The problem? Well, most dancers liked to get some extra cash by bedding their regulars. It wasn’t an issue here, the way it was run was a safe environment for the dancers. Body guards rested around at the ready, panic buttons in the hotel rooms that were upstairs above the club; Condoms and lubricant supplied- not to mention anything else you may need when dealing with clients who were more...monstrous. Or those who weren’t interested in bedding you, but feeding.  

Elliott, however, didn’t just let anyone take him upstairs. He enjoyed intimacy, sure, loved to tease and plead the masses, but you had to get his attention in order to even pay for his services. Tips weren’t hard for him to come by, not when he used long, strong legs to frame his client’s lap and purred in their ear with a low tone of voice. Letting his stubble scratch over their flesh and murmuring teases.  

A rumor had spread around about him that he would laugh at. That he would not bed humans, that he liked the danger too much. Whispers in the club of how you had to be tall, had to have cash, that you had to not want sex but instead be seeking out feeding or discipline, all sorts of rumors that were just false. Or at least, vaguely correct but not quite.  

He...he liked danger, he’ll admit that much, but in the end not a lot of people caught his eye in that way. He had to want and enjoy it too, right? And not just for the sex that came out of it.   

Yet, the only client that came to mind that he’d oh so willingly bed to the point he was ready to beg THEM to go up to a room with him, was one who was too polite.  

Devilish red, glowing eyes, always coming masked like most people were to enter a club such as this. Dressed in tight old-fashioned leathers and an old owl style look to their mask, and though full faced, Elliott could feel the hunger clearly through it. They only spoke with him after dances, never for him to come to the back with them, just offering generous tips in the politest way of giving it to him straight forward. Compliments that spread redness to Elliott’s cheeks as they’d boldly brush their knuckles over his cheek, only to retract and apologize for the act.  

The person was loaded, that was for sure. Their gloved hands always had wads of cash that would pay his rent in one sitting. He’d tried offering more, a private dance, a private...event even. Trying not to make himself look TOO desperate.  

But they would always kindly decline, saying they were busy and only here for just a moment. Even going so far as to kindly tell him that they did not wish to take up too much of his time. Always so damned  polite .  

What Elliott would do to take a peek under that mask and see his most fantasized about person.  

A small note of the club was a twist on the old concept of burlesque dancers, their clients were masked, while the dancers could choose to wear one or not. Elliott thought it gave excitement for their clients to be masked, while providing privacy for their identity if they chose to not be recognized outside.  

Wraith preferred the mask, one of his coworkers and closest friend. Though, not human. Her class was a banshee, long since caught between death and life as she’d told him.  

Her pale skin was ice cold to the touch, her voice sounded like multiples and could send chills down your spine. She always took upon a laced mask and some sort of leather costumery. You could find her perched on the lap of her most regular client, an old soldier who went by the alias Bangalore and showed up with an upper half face mask designed like a fluffy dog.  

Elliott’s eyes drift in the dark room over to where Wraith’s stage was. Vaguely seeing her outline in the low dim of red LED’s surrounding her. He had seen her in the dressing rooms before they went on stage, he’d meowed at her and winked as she laughed and told him to get his outfit on. What? She looked hot; He could appreciate it.  

She dressed in a leather body suit with matching thigh highs and killer heels that made up for her short height. The body suit looked more like an upper corset or bustier, the clasp at her crotch secured but the cut of the hip area coming high up above her hips for a sexier cut. Horns perched atop her head with a matching devil tail and red eyeliner to match. Her lace mask suited well for it, something he’d adjusted as he passed by and brushed her hair from her face affectionately.  

It settled her own quiet anxieties as well as grounded him when Wraith had smirked at him and told him she was fine. Two peas in a pod, he’d always tell her before wishing each other luck.  

A breath escapes Elliott’s lips now as he hooks his fingers around the pole. Motor motions, a slow warm up with the lights off as he idly twirls on the pole. The quiet, slow rising of the beginning of the remixed song. He lets his head fall back as he feels the anticipation, feeling his curls fall onto his chin where he’d purposefully made them loose and messy today.  

It fit his own theme for the song of choice for both himself and Wraith.  

His own is a lovely little angel get up. His hair had been loosely done today, curls allowed to fall freely and beautifully to curl onto the side of his face. Soft makeup had been applied of lipstick, kitten liner, and soft highlights. His facial hair had been trimmed up a bit for the event. His outfit consisted of a white ribbon choker with a matching harness that tied over the top of his chest and at the bottom of his ribcage, coming up over his shoulders for small wings to sprout from his back.  

A white, see through bralette rested over his chest, yet the harness presses his pecs to give the appearance of more cleavage. A small pair of white shorts, small enough to be considered panties, rest over his lower half, as well as white thigh highs with garters and black boots.  

He looked cute, if he would admit that to himself. He liked getting all dolled up and showing off his strong body, fit with lean muscle and sharp curves. He liked being drooled over, liked being watched. Not to mention the fact anyone in this club didn’t mind whether he dressed feminine or masculine, or what name he went by. All they knew was his stage name-  

“Presenting- Mirage and Wraith! Give it up for them whilst they give an electrifying performance to the song: Horns!” Natalie- better known as Wattson was always a good show host, standing a  little ways  away on her own stage in her ring leader outfit, she throws one gloved hand in the air as she speaks, a big smile on her face and her other hand full of the microphone. The crowd cheers before quieting down just as the song begins.  

The song is a remixed version, starting slow as the lights begin to flash. There’s the briefest moment that Wraith and him share a look as it begins before they’re matching movements.  

There’s a slow twist of his head thrice that he knows she’s matching. The grinding movement of hips downwards into a crouch that leaves the crowd cheering matched with the slow rise up with a dramatic bow of the back to make eyes fall to his ass. The repeating humping motion until the lyrics begin and he’s doing a twirl around the base of the pole. Followed by the low, slow grinding crouch with too much leg pushing out, his head falling to the side as his eyes narrow sensually and he looks for his targeted prey in the audience.  

The sight of an owl mask never leaving his form makes him grin.  

The desperately cried out word of ‘ breathe ’ in the song makes him slow to his knees, wrapping fingers around his throat and adding up the sexuality with a flutter of his lashes. It’s so brief before his body is dragging itself upwards, both hands gripping the pole as he hoists himself up onto it, turning his body upside down to hang off in a back bending twirl before beginning to ascend with each grab and pull. All never breaking his own innocent flutter and smiles. He knows damn well without looking that Wraith has an opposite expression of a snarl and sexual energy.  

Every time he comes back around to be able to look at the crowd, normally he’d let his gaze sweep the crowd, let them all feel attended to. But Elliott can’t help it when his gaze keeps settling on that owl masked wearing stranger. Even when it comes time to the part of the song where he sings ‘Heel stomping down my throat’ and he rolls onto his back, arching himself upwards with a dramatic bow of his back and letting his eyes flutter when his hips thrust into the air and roll.  

His gaze never falters.  

Elliott swears he could hear a growl from them, but the music and bass is so loud, there’s no way he could have heard it. Right? But why was it so clear? As if it echoed in his mind.  

He doesn’t falter regardless in his routine. He likes the hungry gazes on his body, but more important how that full faced mask never loses him for a moment. Even at the end of the routine where Wraith ends with her back facing the crowd, head tipped over one shoulder, tail curled around her wrist and a red glow over her frame, and Elliott reflects by facing the crowd, head tipped to one side as if bashful, and thumbs interlocked to fans his hands into wings at his chest, the light reflecting blue.  

With the crowd cheering and the lights dimming, both of them are able to make their way off the stages towards the crowd and begin to find people who wish to engage with them. Wraith, as Elliott notices, works her way through the crowd with her polite ‘thank  you’s  as she finds her way to her favorite client. He could laugh, really, but honestly was he any better?  

When Elliott enters the crowd, he works his magic all whilst waiting for the telltale feeling of gloved fingers stroking over his arm to gather his attention. When he feels it, he excuses himself with promises of returning with playful winks.  

“You shall not be returning.” Comes a voice in his head, practically a purr echoing throughout and Elliott’s eyes blink a few times, tempted to look around the room- but that voice was familiar. The same person who now rounded a corner ahead of him, cloak billowing behind them.  

Well, damn, mark Elliott down as scared and horny.  

Normally this stranger liked to give him the cash and let that be that. But the idea of them wanting to keep him around longer this time? His heart flutters, wondering if he’d get to see them unmasked, to hear that gorgeous accented voice sing his praises and stop acting so polite and let him see them absolutely unhinged -  

Wait, could they hear his thoughts or just talk to him through them? Quick, Witt, think something less horny! Uh- Old mcdonald had a farm, E I E I--  

“Come here,” Comes the haunting voice around the corner. The one Elliott has been following down and down the halls until they’re near the staircase that led up to private rooms. His heart is pounding when he turns the corner, already ready with a pick up line and a thank you from the bottom of his heart. But fingers hitch into the straps at his chest, yanking him close until next thing he knows he’s pressed up against the window nearby. The flashing neon lights outside of the sign reflecting across his skin.  

“H-hey there! A little eager for the bedroom, aren’tcha?” Elliott manages to get out, his voice nervous as that mask is so close to his own face. Near nose to nose—or rather, nose to beak with the mask. Able to make out the respirator so close, and the dark fabric on the owl’s eyes seeming to hide a pair behind them much brighter. He also notes that their gloved hands are resting politely on him, one on his shoulder, the other hovering over his waist. And oh, how he wished they’d just give up the mystery already, maybe even yank him closer-  

As if blessed, the hand that had been hovering at his waist lifts to their mask. Grabbing at its beak to pull it up, “No. I am simply ready for my meal-- if you are willing.” And the entire time they say this singular sentence, they slowly pull up their mask to set on the stairs nearby. Elliott’s heart races because of course they’d be attractive. With a voice like that, honestly what was he expecting?   

Their hood still remains on their head, a few loose red curls framing their sharp face. He notes the red face paint on their face- before realizing that’s tattoos. The scarring across the right side of their face looking like they got into a fight with a beast, the eye blinded and appearing like a mini solar flare. Yet their other a deep, dark red with a slit pupil focused entirely on him. More scars edge at their throat, climbing up like lightning across a sky over their jawline.  

Elliott’s already dizzy, eyes tracing over their deep olive skin tone, over their pierced roman nose and down just in time to see their plump lips part. Showing a double set of fangs and a split tongue with vertical piercings up each tongue- good lords.  

“Th- th -those are some serious chompers.” Is all Elliott can manage to get out, his breath caught in his throat as his hazel eyes focus on their teeth. He could beat himself up for THAT being the thing out of his mouth. Not how attractive they were, not how he really wished they’d just skip the tip and take him right to the bedroom- free of charge!   

The phrase makes their head cock charmingly, as if it hadn’t occurred to them that their teeth would be the focal point. Though he hadn’t said ‘no’ nor did Elliott look AGAINST said ‘chompers’. They lick over their fangs, only serving to make Elliott’s head fall back as if he was already preparing to be the most delicious meal.  

“Do not worry. I do not ‘chomp’, as you say.” They speak lowly near his ear as they lean in. Elliott can hear the way they inhale his scent, sounding like they’re swearing under their breath and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t ragingly hard in his already too tight of shorts. Especially when they come closer to him, lips brushing over his throbbing pulse and Elliott can only hope he’s making it quite clear that he’s all game for whatever ‘not chomping’ they’re about to do.  

Vampire. It all made sense, really, when he put it all together. The get up was rather old fashioned, their politeness even more so. Or the fact he’d noticed that they’d adorably pause at the bar every single time, never ordering anything, but always seemed keen on counting all the bottles. Then of course the mental communication- seems his client was one of the older of the breed, maybe a few centuries old.  

Thoughts he’d save for later. When he’s not being distracted.  

Lips brush up the length of his exposed throat, just brushing and making Elliott shiver. Their lips press to his pierced lobe, lightly nipping and making Elliott gasp out a low moan. When they chuckle lowly at his reaction, he swears he could cum right then and there.  

“Wait,” He starts, amazed at how quickly they back up but he’s quick to whine to ease their worried expression. Cute how they thought they had crossed a boundary- anyone else would probably have tried ripping off his clothes right then and there. “Your--your name. I never got it?”  

His client’s furrowed brows relax near instantly, their worried expression easing up as a soft, relieved breath leaves them. Idly, a gloved hand comes up, tucking a curl behind Elliott’s ear and making his heart throb. There’s only a pause longer before they murmur out. “Bloodhound. You may call me Bloodhound. I assume your tongue could not handle the original pronunciation.”  

“But your tongue may be able to handle other things much better.” Comes the echoed purr in his mind, though their lips do not move to speak, they do curl into an attractive smirk that makes him about whimper.  

“Bloodhound,” He breathes out, enjoying the way their eyes seem to narrow at the sound. It’s as if he knew they’ve wanted to hear it this entire time. It’s almost a power trip, almost, if he weren’t the one pinned to a wall and about to cum in his own shorts from some gentle petting. “You said meal- now-now I’m absolutely willing! Promise, absolutely down for it, it would be a ple- pleas- pleas— absolute delight to do that for you.” Curse his need to talk too much when he was like this.   

Bloodhound's eyes seem to grow darker at that, despite his clear mishap, they don’t mention it. A quiet gesture that honestly put Elliott at ease. The hand on his shoulder slides up to his neck and Elliott’s eyes flutter, willingly moving his head to the side with the gentle touch so they could trace their fingers up and grab his jaw lightly.  

“...You mentioned a bedroom?”  

Oh, fuck yeah.  

--  

Elliot had never moved quicker in his life. Bloodhound had slid their mask back on, following him up the stairs and towards one of the hotel rooms that were available for their work to continue. He could laugh at them politely waiting outside the door before he remembers to invite them inside.  

 It’s a standard room with soft lighting and a bed fit in the center. Toys are lined on the wall, a pole in the room and a few comfortable chairs. There’s a bathroom for freshening up too, fit with anything that may come in handy.   

The lights and any music could be adjusted via a panel on the wall when they entered. Something Elliott is quick to shift the lights to a deep red and letting music play lowly. When he looks over at Bloodhound, Elliott gets the pleasant view of watching them remove their mask and cloak.  

They shake their hair loose, moving a gloved hand through it to toss their curls. Now, Elliott had seen plenty of attractive people around here. But he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful in his life. Not even himself, and that’s saying a lot.  

He feels his mouth go even drier when he looks down at what they’re wearing. Normally they were always in an old fashioned get up or in leathers. But now their outfit consists of a plunge neck black dress reaching just beneath their chest to show cleavage. The dress skirts the floor, a long slit up each leg and heeled boots resting upon their feet. They looked dressed to kill. Even more so when Elliott’s eyes are trailing back up slowly, feeling ever so dizzy when he meets their gaze, a smirk on their lips quirked ever so to show one fang on their lower lip-  

“I have not looked into your rates.” They speak casually, walking towards him with one foot slowly in front of the other. As if they’re stalking him. A devil stalking an angel. Oh, Elliott would be a good sinner, he swears. His knees wobbling by the time they reach him, their gloved hand cupping his cheek and their thumb running across the sharpness of his cheekbone.  

“Consider this a ‘thank you’ for your gen- generous tips.” Elliott manages to practically whine out, hating how his voice pitches up when their hand slides down his throat to trail down and rest on his chest. They’re walking him backwards, until the back of his knees hit a chair and he’s sinking right down. He has the pleasure of looking up at them, seeing their hair curling around their face beautifully with the red light illuminated behind them. Now, Elliott prides himself on being a good boy, so he lets it known he’s very interested by cocking his head to the side, straining his neck and trying to look as appetizing as possible.  

“Ah, but those were merely for watching your beautiful body dance, Elliott.” They croon out his name in a way that makes heat roll down his spine. He REALLY needs to be out of these shorts yesterday, but he’s willing to wait a little longer if it means wearing some nice bruises and puncture marks on his neck. He whimpers at the thought, rolling his hips up into nothing and he swears he hears Bloodhound inhale like someone inhaling the scent of a bakery.   

He’s waiting for them to pounce him, sink those  deliciously  sharp looking fangs into his throat- maybe they’d even let him grab their ass while they were at it? They had such a nice ass, rounded and juicy even in their dress. He wonders vaguely if they’d ever done dance work as well-  

But before his mind can wander too far. Elliott watches them pull their hair back, tugging it up into a ponytail and tying it. The visual makes his cock jerk in his tight little shorts, a whine escaping his throat as they tuck loose strands of hair behind their pierced ears. And instead of pouncing on him like he expected and is tensed for, they sink to their knees.  

Wait a minute.  

“I thought you were hungry?” He manages to squeak out, watching as they rest between his spread thighs. A small grin makes its way to their lips, and it truly should be a crime how attractive they are, fangs and all.  

“You must not be aware of feeding habits,” Bloodhound softly laughs out, their hands running over his thighs and the leather feeling just as sweet as it did over his throat. Elliott’s breath catches when they skirt his inner thighs, his legs trying to fall apart further. “If you would prefer I sink my teeth into your pretty neck and mark you as my own, I would not mind.”  

Elliott moans freely at the idea, head falling back and hips rolling into nothing. He could just imagine it, the teeth marks in his neck, the bruises. He imagines they’d snarl if they saw he’d tried to cover them up with makeup. Normally he’s not about someone trying to stake some sort of claim on him, especially in a situation such as his job. But something about Bloodhound made him want more and more and more.  

“Or,” They murmur, catching his attention again as their hand finally slides over the front of his shorts. Elliott cries out, over sensitive as they apply pressure to grope him. “You shall feed me  everything  you can from here. And we can discuss regular feeding sessions in...other  manners, if you so choose.”  

Other manners?! OTHER MANNERS?! Elliott’s catching onto the whole ‘life force’ rumors not being rumors like he’d thought. Blood and cum, yeah, he could do that- fuck what else could they do to him? What would they do to him?   

They’re loaded with cash, absolutely drop dead gorgeous, AND implying they’re kinky. Call Elliott a sucker all you like for even offering something for free, but could you BLAME HIM?!  

“I shall not continue if I do not hear verbal consent, sweet one.” Bloodhound’s voice pierces his loud thoughts, not having even noticed he’s practically dry humping their hand that they’ve so generously kept pressure with. Elliott’s dizzy already, panting and rolling his head to the side so he could finally look at them again.  

Oh, yeah, he could definitely get used to that sight.  

“Yes! Yes- fuck, yes, absolutely. However  you- you- you want to feed! Whatever you want, Hound, please just- fuck stop teasing. Please? Come on I’m not supposed to be the one- the one begging here!” The nickname slips out, truly, as does his pleading. It rolling right out of his mouth as easy as breathing. They don’t seem to mind, in fact, they seem pleased by his begging. Going so far as to give him this wolfish sort of grin that shows a lot of fang and- yeah he’s definitely going to cum in his shorts if they do that--  

“If you insist.”  

That’s the last thing he hears from that torturously delicious looking mouth. His shorts are immediately tugged off, hanging off one of his ankles, but when he goes to discard the harness and angel wings, they stop him with a dangerous look in their eye. He wonders if they like that sort of thing- roleplay. God, he could just imagine them in some devil get up seducing him. Fuck.  

Elliott’s mind immediately stops when he looks down, however. His cock is out in the open, heavy and drooling with pre-cum in a way he doesn’t think he’s ever done. The head is reddened, desperate with arousal, a prominent vein on his cock more pronounced. He’s always thought he’s had a nice dick, the foreskin coming up to rest just about the round of the head, a good size of seven inches and a good girth around. He’s trimmed his body hair to look more presentable on stage, but is clean shaven on the mound and his balls.  

The best part is the way Bloodhound’s gloved fingers wrap around the base of his cock, giving it one full stroke to pull the foreskin down. Their lips are parted softly, enough for him to see the way their split tongue wets their lips with prominent saliva as if they’re drooling.  

He’s never felt more look food before.  

Elliott’s not sure if he’s more turned on at how desperate and  hungry  they look or the fact he’s about to get what he’s pretty sure is going to be the best blowjob he’ll ever have. He’s already tensed, whimpering low in his throat and flexing his fingers on the arm of the chair in anticipation. But before he can start begging again, they move.  

First their tongue presses to the very bottom of his cock, licking up in a slow stripe in a way that Elliott can’t tear his eyes away from. Their glinting fangs look so dangerous, only to vanish when their plump lips seal around the head to give a soft suckle to, practically a wet heated fleeting kiss. Elliott would never admit to how he sounds now, not even faking the noises of his cries at just the smallest of touches.  

It makes it even worse when Bloodhound has the audacity to moan. This soft little sound in their throat like a content fucking kitten. Ridiculously, Elliott only feels closer because of the sound, his fingers practically clutching the arms of the chair for dear life. His thighs are trembling, his skin feeling far too hot even in something so little as a harness, and his voice isn’t feeling like his own as moans and sobs slip out.  

They repeat the same motions a few times of licking him up and suckling the head briefly, and he has half a mind to tell this beautiful vampire with insanely sharp teeth to stop playing with their food. But once their lips finally suckle around him, their head comes down in one go, swallowing him down a strangely cool throat with the threat of teeth resting at the base of his dick.  

Elliott cums.  

He cums harder than he thinks he’s ever cum before in his life. His body reacts on instinct, hands coming to Bloodhound’s head to hold them right where they are as beautiful sobs leave his lips and swears flying out. His thighs tremble, his hips weakly trying to hump against Bloodhound’s face with nowhere to go since they’ve deepthroated him entirely.  

“Such a delicious taste,” Comes that haunting voice in his head. It only serves to make Elliott’s hips weakly jerk again, feeling their throat constrict as they swallow his cum with a moan. “ You were a deserved wait. You taste divine, lítill engill. Better than I have imagined. ”  

“Thank you,” Elliott practically sobs out, his fingers still pressed to their scalp as he sobs out again. “Thank you, thank y-you- fuck-”  

The gentle lift of their head signals for his hands to retreat. Watching and feeling how their mouth slides over him with a fleeting kiss pressed to his still reddened head. Elliott just about goes cross eyed at the sensation, leaning back in the chair and throwing his head back as he tries to focus his panting breaths to narrow out into something normal.  

A cry leaves his lips when their gloved hand wraps around his cock to jerk him a few times. Over sensitivity ringing across his skin as he sobs out, “Wait, wait- can't go again that-that— fuck- quickly!” He’s practically begging, yet his hands stay glued to the arm of the chair again. Only able to look down at them and the way their eyes dance with mischief.  

“And I am yet sated. Do you wish for me to starve, little one? You were so eager to be made a meal of.” Their tone is taunting. As if they know exactly what they’re doing. And fuck, they probably do. Curse their fucking beautiful, stupid face and how their eyes make Elliott feel so small and yet so adored. So...paid attention to- more than he had in forever.  

Elliott’s immediately whimpering, shaking his head and rolling his hips up against their hand despite how his motions are quivering with the strain of his muscles. “No! No, no, no, promise! Promise I can be good for you, I want to be good for you- oh god  just let me-” Elliott’s breathing is wet, strained with tears pricking his eyes as their hand squeezes his cock to wring out anymore  cum  he may have. Just to watch them lap at the head of his dick to take it all eagerly.  

“God -” Elliott sobs out again at the sight alone.  

“You flatter me.” They respond with a teasing tone, letting their lips brush across his slick flesh with each movement.   

They’re a devil in disguise, Elliott is sure. This is what he gets for wearing an angel get up today, of course he’d find himself at the mercy of a demon who’s going to suck the absolute soul out of him via his dick. And he isn’t even mad is the funniest part of this, he’s willing his body to try and relax, despite their teasing motions and the way their lips part so he can see their fangs again and how hungry they look.  

Elliott’s fingers flex again on the arms of the chair, wanting so badly to maybe pull their hair or ease them back to him to show he’s ready. He’s too busy wondering if he’ll get chomped by them that he doesn’t notice they seem to sense his inner turmoil, not until their free hand gently grabs his wrist and begins guiding it to their ponytail for him to grip.  

Elliott’s face flushes deep red at the simple action, a blinding smile crossing his face and showing off his dimples. His heart twists pleasantly at such a simple gesture, and vaguely he’s wondering if he can’t get Bloodhound’s number and make this more than whatever sort of sugar baby relationship this feels like.  

What he doesn’t realize is how Bloodhound is looking at his smile, at his flushed face with a healthy glow about him. Thinking how beautiful he is, how darling he must be to have as a lover, how obedient and kind he must be. Even so willing to accept their claim on him already as to get excited at the prospect of being bitten and exposed to being claimed on stage. They could supply him  everything  he needed. Could fulfill every sexual desire, make sure he had enough money for anything he wanted.  

Longing. Yearning. Emotions that Bloodhound should not have whilst trying to play with their food.  

“O...okay, okay I think I’m ready to go.” Elliott finally says after a comfortable pause of silence. Their gaze is so intense on him, making him feel like the star of his own show right now. Even more so when they smile, this genuine little thing that makes his heart pound and not just because he’s thinking about their fangs on his cock again.  

Way to go, Witt, already falling for someone.  

Their lips wrap around the head again and Elliott’s breath is taken away again. He groans, head lolling to the side and eyes half lidded, making sure to watch them. Their own eyes flutter closed, their thumb tracing along the underside of his cock in their grip as they stay suckling and toying with the sensitive glands at the underside of his head. They keep his foreskin pulled back, their tongue lapping at the slit and making his thighs jerk with  sensitivity  at each brush.  

Bloodhound is clearly starting slow, but still keeping him on the edge of overstimulation. Elliott’s toes curl into his heels, his other hand coming to rest on the back of their head and feeling over the shaved hair with his thumb idly. A whimper blossoms from his throat when their hand moves down from holding his cock to slide down to cup his balls, thumbing the seam and gently squeezing.  

It’s like they know exactly how to play him.  

“Fuck, baby-” He hisses out, not paying any mind to what is coming out of his mouth. They hum at him regardless, and vaguely he can hear this sort of hum in the back of his mind that he can feel pressing until he hears their voice curling into his mind like delicious smoke.  

“You taste divine, little one.” It’s a purr in his head, resounding and making his cock throb at the praise, let alone the pet name. He wants to say thank you, but his mouth feels like honey, only spilling out soft whines and moans. “You are being such a good boy, so pliant and willing for me.”  

Yep, that’s really doing it for him.   

His hands press at their head as his hips come up, finding that they go with ease and no resistance. It gets to the point where he’s able to hold them still, fucking up into their mouth as their hands slide under to grab his ass to urge him to continue his thrusts. Elliott’s mind is swimming, swears finally able to come from his mouth and filth following along with it along the lines of, “W-want to touch you. Want to make you-  ah!-  feel good, want you to-to-to bite me-” All promises and praises keening from his lips like a singing bird.  

In his head he can hear phrases murmured back at him, some in a tongue he doesn’t recognize. Some make sense like ‘ good boy ’ and ‘ you taste divine ’ echoing again and again matched with deeper snarls that make his skin sing like ‘Mine ’ and ‘ I shall ruin you for anyone else ’.  

When Elliott cums again, their fingers sink into his ass and hold him up with amazing strength. They have him in their throat again, swallowing everything he has to offer as he sobs out his praises. His body feel tensed, overstimulated and ringing with a  pleasantness  of ’too much’. But he doesn’t feel like he couldn’t go again, feeling like he could just be their toy forever.  

When they finally lower him back to the chair and slide their mouth off, Elliott feels the whine coming from his chest as his fingers scrabble to press back down on their head. It’s like they were a drug he couldn’t get enough of, even if he is shaking. “Please, please, more, please, baby, please, please, please- ”  

The snarl he hears from their own chest sounds possessive and pleased, a low grumble as they take him again.  

He cums two more times through the night before Bloodhound is finally sated. Elliott is an absolute mess, babbling away once he’s finally come down from his high. He expects they’re going to maybe just pay and leave, but for a small moment he kind of blacks out.  

When he comes back to, he’s naked and been placed in a cool bath. The temperature is soothing on his too hot of skin, and when he lolls his head to the side, he sees Bloodhound resting on their knees by the tub. Their eyes flick up to him, the washcloth they were using to wipe at the glitter on his chest pausing. They offer a small, almost nervous smile. “It appears you passed out momentarily. I assumed you were overheated. My apologies.”  

“Can I kiss you?” Elliott blurts out in reply before he can even think differently of it. He almost laughs at their surprised look, not knowing that their confident expression could drop into such a look so quick. Their eyes widen ever so slightly, eyebrows raising before a soft laugh leaves their chest, almost...flustered sounding.  

Man, what Elliott would do to hear it again.  

“I...Yes, you may.”   

It’s all the consent he needs before he’s reaching over, resting a hand on their cold cheek and vaguely understanding why they wore the gloves now. They felt chilly to the touch. Bloodhound, in turn, looks at him expectantly as they lean over the bath tub, hovering above him and letting their breath mingle at their closeness.  

It’s intimate.  

When their lips meet, both of Elliott’s hands come to rest on their cheeks, sliding into their hair with a low moan in his throat. They kiss him gently in turn, their hand resting on his chest to steady their body as they guide the kiss. When they lick into his mouth, he can vaguely taste himself, only serving to make a familiar whimper resound from his chest.  

When they part, Elliott takes the chance to surprise them again with a murmur of, “Can I have your number? You...you know, in case you get hungry again and I’m not working...?”  

Their looks  is  definitely worth it again when they lean back slightly, a crooked smirk upon their lips. “You are bold, Elliott Witt.”  

“That’s not a no.”  

“I suppose it is not.” They agree, eyes dancing with mischief as their eyes flicker to his lips when he licks them and bites down on his bottom lip. Bloodhound could sigh, he was too cute, even if they know the exact reason he’d want their number. And not just due to him wanting to get ‘chomped’ as he so put it.  

When Elliott beams brightly at them and tilts his head for another kiss, they feel that they are too weak to even consider denying him. Leaning in to take his lips again and again and again.  

They suppose that this was a rather unconventional way to try and seduce the dancer, but in the  end  it pays off when not a day later they receive a lengthy text of Elliott saying of what a good time he had and thanking them for the tip, as always. And that when could he catch them for a date?  

It would certainly be sweet, if he didn’t leave the damned vampire emoji at the end.