#also can I just say fuck drawing leopard print so hard

[unfortunate-bambi]

Peak art set up

[lichfucker]

As the Trent Crimm blorbo expert what do you think it means that his hair gets progressively flatter throughout the show?

I think it means the hair department got busier lmao

(I'm kidding, hmu people please don't get mad at me you do so much and you're my favorite people to work with on set)

smarter people than me have written meta already about how trent's hair reflects his growing dissatisfaction with his life and career, and how it telegraphs his leaving the independent long before anything happened with nate and revealing his source to ted.

his image is something he clearly cares a lot about, and his hair is a big part of that. trent has an extremely well-defined aesthetic, and he doesn't give it up, but he certainly does deviate from it as the series goes on. most of the times that we see him in season 1 he's wearing the same brown blazer (and I don't blame him, it's a dope blazer and I want it lmao), and he's either wearing button-down and a tie, or he's wearing button-down open with a t-shirt underneath. he's also almost always wearing those white converse sneakers. (even when he's talking to jamie at the end of 'biscuits' his Look is following the same formula; it feels different because his hair is pulled back in a bun, but it's the same blazer + button-down + tie + white sneakers combo.) some of these looks are more formal than others, but there's still an air of professionalism to it. trent is very well-curated, including and especially in the styling of his hair.

as the show goes on, though, trent's style becomes a lot more casual. he very rarely wears a tie in season 2. he's almost always wearing just a t-shirt and a blazer, no button-down as a formality buffer, and his shirts tend far more to be graphic or band tees, rather than the solid colors he wears more frequently in season 1. one could argue that it's because he's gotten more comfortable as time has gone on and as he's gotten used to ted, but I don't believe trent crimm has ever felt uncomfortable in the press room. like, a man who feels like he can't relax around this strange new person is NOT a man who will stand up in the first press conference and ask "is this a fucking joke?"

it's not a relief that he doesn't have to try so hard-- the lack of effort proves that he doesn't want to try so hard. he's tired of wearing the same brown jacket and the same red tie (do either of them make an appearance in s2 at all?), he's tired of styling his hair the same way, he's tired of doing the same job and writing the same articles day in and day out. it's no surprise that he's at his most engaged and his most hungry in 'do the rightest thing,' when he's got something to write about other than g-ddamn football. he's looking for something deeper; he gets a taste of it when sam says "I'm not here to talk about football, I'm here to talk about corruption." clothing-wise, this is one of the most Proper outfits we see him wear in s2: he's wearing a button-down and a tie, yes, but it's all black, it all blends together, you can barely see them. it's a far cry from the brightness and contrast of the orange-brown blazer + steely blue shirt + red tie he's so fond of in s1. that's an outfit that draws the eye, that wants to be noticed; this isn't. his hair in 'do the rightest thing' is also the wildest we ever see it-- it's parted on the opposite side, it's frizzy, it's tucked behind his ears. he's trying here to recapture what he had before, but he's doing it all wrong. he's trying to care the same way he did before, and he can't.

trent deconstructs his own image further and further as the show progresses, such that the final time we see him he's wearing leopard-print shoes instead of his signature white converse (I am obsessed w the leopard-print loafers, btw. the ted lasso wardrobe department really reached into my throat and pulled out my gender on this one) and his hair is barely styled, if he's even touched it at all. he looks free. his whole demeanor is lighter, happier, warmer than we've ever seen it before. he'd spent so long building up his reputation, his persona, his image as a sharp, vicious, put-together bitch of a journalist, and as the series goes on it becomes clearer and clearer that he just doesn't want that anymore. he doesn't want to be that guy and he doesn't want to look like that guy.

so he stops being that guy. he stops wearing that guy's ties. he stops doing that guy's job. he stops styling that guy's hair.

and now he gets to decide what guy he does want to be, and in s3 we'll see what that guy does with his hair.

[copias-thrall]

There’s Something About Mary

A day in the life of our crusty Mr. Goore

Mary POV chapter bc I want to and I can.

⬅️ Previous

*public masturbation, kinda*

Mary wakes up horny.

He must have been having a pleasant dream, because his cock is hard and throbbing where it rests heavy against his thigh. He shoves a hand down into his undone jeans to give his cock a squeeze—just for a moment of relief—and, as the touch wakes him up fully, he realizes he can hear the distinct sounds of sex from one of the rooms. A thump thump thump and a squeak squeak squeak, all punctuated with blatant moans.

Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to jack it to the sex orchestra going on, not 10ft from where he lies on the couch. Once a place they sometimes took turns on, the couch has become Mary’s de facto room—a subtle punishment for his supposed defection. So, he has no qualms about masturbating in his room, and if any of the other guys have an issue with it, Mary has no problem making his display more public, just for spite.

He pauses only to spit in his hand when his dry palm begins to chafe. It doesn’t even matter when the noises from the other room cease (and later Mary will have to tease them about their staying power), Mary just scrolls through his mental Rolodex until he brings up the memory of his dick in between Suey’s tits, how they jiggled despite being held together, how shiny they became once covered in his jizz, and how she looked up at him as she contorted one to bring it up to her mouth to lap some off.

“Shit, shit,” he exclaims as the memory of her pink tongue lapping up his cum causes him to release. Some shoots up his bare chest, but most of it lands and pools in his belly button. Eyes still closed, his free hand shoots out and fumbles for the box of tissues on the table, encountering instead a stack of thin takeout napkins.

As he does his best to clean himself up with the napkins—whose integrity is suspect—he can hear the low rumble of male voices and a high, feminine giggle from the sex room. Just to be a jackass, he gets himself up so that he can have first dibs on the bathroom.

Making sure to lock the door behind him, Mary turns on the hot faucet, willing the water to warm up sooner than later. He takes the opportunity, while he waits, to piss in the toilet; it’s already open—toilet seat up—even though it’s supposed to put it down when they have guests. They’re out of TP again, so a roll of paper towels rests on the lid of the tank.

Once the water is warm enough, Mary uses a couple pieces from the roll to clean off the jizz drying and to give himself a brief wipe down. His face is still half crusty with makeup, and he’s tempted to just add to it, but he’s learned from hard experience how that can fuck up your face, so—even though it’s a goddamned pain—Mary washes his face. He even uses the harsh Dial hand soap, even though the acrid smell will get up into his nose for hours.

He thinks of the nice-smelling scrub Suey has and her drugstore face cream he sometimes rubs into his skin.

In the soap- and toothpaste-speckled mirror, he starts to apply his “Day Face” (as Suey calls it) from the communal box of makeup (his better stuff is in his backpack): a light dusting of white powder; some eyeliner all the way around; a dull, red lipstick; and black shadow on his cheekbones.

He’s just starting on his hair when there comes a pounding on the door

“Fucks’ sake. C’mon, Goore.”

Mary turns his head upside down in the sink basin so he can haphazardly splash some water into his hair.

“Fuck off, douchebag.”

He starts to work his fingers into his locks, coaxing the glue already in it to activate.

“She’s gotta pee, man.”

He fluffs his forelock in the mirror as his other hand searches for the blood tube in the box.

“We have a kitchen sink.”

A small voice tells him not to take his annoyance with his friends out on the girl, and he sighs.

“Stop being a di—”

The voice cuts off as Mary swings the door open. Brendan's angry face smooths into one of minor irritation. The girl—Lisa?—stands, thighs crushed together, in an oversized kitten t-shirt. She looks at Mary, wide-eyed; her gaze darts to his bare, wet chest before snapping back up.

“Lis,” he says, winking as he saunters out.

Her face crumples a little.

“Lizzy,” she says, and Mary’s stomach swoops a bit when he realizes he’s probably slept with her before.

He makes himself smile as she moves past him to the bathroom.

“That’s what I said: Liz.” He shoots her a finger gun at her as Brendan scowls at them both. When the door closes and Brendan is still glaring, Mary lets out a “What?”

“You sticking around for breakfast, man?”

Mary rolls his eyes. “I’m here, ain’t I?” He starts to paw through the plastic shelving drawers next to the couch for a shirt.

Brendan shrugs. “Thought your pussy-whipped ass might need to get back to that uptown princess of yours.”

He glares at Brendan. “Stop being dick.”

“She’s fucking slumming it, dude. I’m warning you.”

It’s not a new argument, so Mary just ignores him, instead trying to apply a bit of blood to the tip of his forelock using the heart compact Suey gave him.

Titus emerges from the shared room, yawning, in his terrible leopard print robe that’s way too short.

“Morning, asswipe,” he says to Mary as he walks by. “What’re we bitching about?”

Brendan says “uptown girl” as Mary says “nothing.”

Titus sighs.

“Jesus, Brendan. You gotta get over that. That’s Mary’s mistake to make.”

“You know what? Fuck this shit.” Mary starts getting his backpack in order.

“That’s right! Blow off another band meeting!” says Brendan, and Mary spins on his heel to stomp back.

He jabs a finger into his chest. “I’m here all the goddamned time, more than I am at her place. I come to every meeting you tell me about.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you about anything. You should just be here. You should be committed,” hisses Brendan.

“I’m going to make some toast,” says Titus as he swishes toward the kitchen.

Mary rifles through his plastic draws and slams a notebook and loose papers onto the table.

“There’s mine, dude. Lyrics. Composition. Where’s yours?”

Donnie and Jamie wander out of their room.

“Not this shit again. It’s too fucking early,” says Donnie.

Brendan vibrates. “What about funds, man? A social media presence? You think all that happens by magic?”

“So I’m supposed to write, and compose, and do the budget?” snarls Mary.

“Guys,” moans Jamie.

“And our Insta is shit, by the way.”

“Fuck. Can we not?” moans Donnie.

Mary again jabs a finger at Brendan. “Then tell him to can it. I’ve already been exiled to the couch. I don’t need him picking fights because he doesn’t like my girlfriend, who—by the way—has never fucking done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t been exil—” Jamie starts.

“We were supposed to fucking share those rooms,” Mary hisses as he gesticulates. “I pay the same amount of rent, and yet I come home one day to find all my stuff in a pile in the living room. I have to wait for you guys to stop playing video games because ‘this is shared space’ to fucking sleep.”

“We all agreed—”

“No. You guys agreed. I didn’t get shit to say about it. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not too fucking keen on being pleasant.”

They all stand there, glowering at each other until Donnie says, “I need to take a goddamned piss,” and finds the bathroom door locked. At his soft The fuck? the lock clicks, and Lizzy opens the door cautiously.

“I’m sorry. It just. Seemed like you guys were getting into it.”

Brendan sighs. “C’mon, babe. Let’s get your stuff.”

The fight isn’t a new one, and—with no resolution in sight—they all drop the subject so they can get on with the breakfast of eggs on toast Titus brings out and the subsequent band meeting. The Brick—a cheap, overworked laptop—is brought out so they can go over band business: the budget; the van maintenance and parking costs; the gig and practice schedule is outlined so that they can align their work shifts; new merch ideas are bandied about; and they talk about how to improve their digital sales.

Mary’s leg jiggles impatiently.

The meeting breaks nearly 5hrs later; Jamie goes back to sleep because he’s got the night shift at the Quik•Mart; Brendan heads out for his afternoon shift at Target; it’s Donnie’s day off, so he cues up Mario Kart; and Titus decides he’s going to go pound on the drums in the practice space they rent, since his dad pays his bills.

Mary has been saddled with stopping by the local record stores to see if any of their physical CDs have sold to prove he’s “committed,” even though he’s got the closing shift at Sixes & Sevens.

As he’s leaving the building, he encounters Brendan, who is leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. Mary’s fingers twitch.

“So you’re not coming back tonight, then.”

“We have band business?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Brendan lets out a puff of smoke.

“You think I’m being a dick, but that girl does not care about you. She’s a tourist. Us—the band. That’s what’s real, Mary.”

Mary knows he should keep walking, but even after counting to 10, he’s still pissed, so he spins on his heel.

“You don’t know anything about her or her goddamned life.”

“Neither do you.” He finishes the smoke, then tosses it to the pavement to grind under his combat boot. “We’ll be here when it all explodes in your face, Goore. But you’re going to have to rebuild a lot of bridges.”

And then he’s off down the sidewalk. Mary stands there, seething, waiting until Brendan disappears round the corner since he’s also headed in that direction.

He’s not really in the best of moods when he hits up the first store, but by the 4th, he’s back to his plucky repartee. The owner of his favorite shop intimates that a vinyl version of their LP might sell much better than their DIY CD, and Mary enthusiastically thanks the dude as if it’s the first time such a concept has been considered.

The whole route honestly doesn’t even really take that much time at all—maybe 2 hours—so he chances stopping by Suey’s. Worst case, he’ll take a nap; best case, she’ll be there to bitch at him.

Like everything else today, however, circumstances are just not on his side, and he opens the door to her tiny fucking apartment to find it empty. The mail is bad again, and he rifles through it, plucking out anything that’s obviously junk to toss and anything that looks like a bill to put on her counter. There’s only a bowl in the sink, so he leaves it.

He’s hoping that she comes home before he has to leave—maybe she’ll even give him a blow job—as he wraps himself up in the afghan that smells slightly of her.

She doesn’t.

His alarm wakes him up at 4:15pm for his shift at 6. Groggily, he stumbles to the fridge to see what there is to eat, and finds a pot crammed in haphazardly amongst the other food items. Mary’s not really sure what he’s looking at—Suey tends to just throw shit together when she can’t be bothered, but most of the time it’s edible.

It ends up being some sort of cheesy potato stew and actually isn’t that bad. He eats the whole thing out of the pot before scrubbing it and the lone bowl clean. He waits as long as he dares to watch her come clomping tiredly through her door, but he really does have to leave. He leaves a kiss on her mirror after he reapplies his lipstick. (He should probably redo his face but: eh.)

Work is work. It starts slow—with Mary taking down the chairs and wiping off everything with the disinfectant spray. Sometimes Mary finds this kind of Zen—a time to hum out chords and roll around lyrics in his head—but today he’s just tired. It gets a little better when Mickey and the other bartender show up to do citrus prep. It’s a weekday, so there’s only a moderate crowd, and Mickey leaves them to it so he can do business manager-type things in his office.

And then there are the girls. Most of the girls who come to Sixes & Sevens aren’t the type to be put off by Mary’s whole shtick—and there are obviously the ones who come here expressly to flirt with him—so he has no qualms turning on his charms. Mickey lets him do it because customers are customers, and if girls want to come and spend money on drinks while they purr at Mary, who is Mickey to stop them? Len or Mika don’t give a shit because tips are pooled.

Used to be Mary could have his pick of a warm body for the evening—some girl (or occasionally some guy if Mary deemed him beefy enough) who’d take him to her nice-smelling, clean apartment … who’d let him spend the night on her soft, downy pillows after he pounded her into next year, before kicking him out at dawn. But now he’s got a girlfriend—one who makes sure he eats and yells at him to wash his face—waiting for him in her stale apartment with her flat, polyester pillows, and Mary hopes he’s not fool enough to fuck that up.

Not that his dick has gotten the memo.

No matter how many times Mary tells that fucker that he’s not going to fuck any of these women, his dick still twitches in interest whenever plump lips are wrapped around straws or fingertips trail over his hand. Tonight is especially bad for some reason, and Mary has to stick close to the walls of the bar so that no one can see his semi. A girl in a furry, white shrug seems particularly on his dick, and he does his best to flirt just enough for a good tip, but not enough for a proposition.

When he gets his break, Mary takes it out back in the alley by the dumpster. The air is chill, but it feels good after the humidity of the bar. He was hoping maybe his dick would go down, but it’s like it’s trying to spite him. Leaning his head back on the wall, he can’t help but close his eyes and run his palm lightly over the outline. It’s a fool’s errand—it’s not like he can get off without it showing on his pants—but that doesn’t stop him from touching.

A voice clears, and Mary startles. He’s out here by the rancid garbage so he can be alone, so he wasn’t really expecting to find anyone else.

“I can help you with that,” says the girl with the white fur that may or may not be real. She’s standing across from him, and he can see that she’s in a dress so simple that it must be hella expensive. She’s holding an unlit cigarette.

Mary jerks his hand away from his crotch, shifting so that he can surreptitiously adjust his jeans.

“The fuck are you doing out back here?”

She shrugs. “Needed to get away from my bitches. I love them but: drama city. You got a light?”

He knows it’s a ruse, but he still fumbles out his Zippo because he’s a goddamned gentleman. She, shockingly, takes the opportunity to move in closer to his body as he holds out the flame … close enough to blow the smoke of the first drag in his face.

“So,” she says, eyes darting down to his semi. “You want me suck that?” She gesticulates with her chin, posture nonchalant but eyes hungry.

His dick gives an answering throb, but he shrugs. “Nah. I got a girl.”

She looks at him, assessing, before half crossing her arms and taking another drag. Smoke pours out her nose.

“She’s not here.”

Mary doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing how to get out of this. She hasn’t said anything untrue. He’s horny, Suey’s not here, and she wants to suck his cock.

He reaches his hand up and taps his breast where he thinks his heart is.

“She’s here,” he says, and he’s glad Suey’s not present because hoo boy would she give him shit for that winner.

The girl just tilts her head at him, this time blowing smoke out the side of her mouth after she inhales. It occurs to Mary that he wants her cigarette more than his dick wants to be sucked. If she thinks this is some kind of elaborate game of hard to get, she’s sorely mistaken.

“You got a picture?”

“A … what?”

She gesticulates impatiently. “A picture. Of this girlfriend.”

Mary thinks, then pats around for his wallet, even though he only ever puts it in his back pocket. When she sees the wallet come out, she laughs.

“An actual picture? That’s old school.”

He shrugs as he rifles. “I’m on my break.” He doesn’t tell her that his ancient flip phone doesn’t take pictures. Well, not good ones.

The photo of Suey he has is relatively new—slipped in behind the old, worn one of his mum—but its edges are starting to soften. In the image, Suey stands, hip popped, as she gives him the finger with a snotty look on her face. She’s in one of her weird 90′s outfits—a micro mini and tied up band tee—and the cute pudge of her belly hangs over her waist band a little. Her hair is pushed back from her face because she’s just lifted up her sunglasses—there’s still a little mark on her nose where they were resting.

She hates this picture, but her attitude makes him smile.

“You gonna ogle it all night, Mary?”

Mary’s attention snaps back to the alley. He ignores the intimacy. Carefully, with a stern look on his face that he hopes conveys how much the photo is not to be fucked with, he hands the picture over.

White Fur looks at the picture for a long time. Then she looks up at him. She gives the image one more glance before handing it back to him.

“Yeah, ok,” she says as she crosses her arms again.

Mary tucks the photo back into his wallet.

“The fuck does that mean?” he scowls. He’s just about had it with people insulting Suey today, and some random-ass girl in a back alley is the last person he’d let get away with it, even if she is a fan.

She takes her last drag before flicking the stub in the direction of a dumpster.

“Dunno. You seem like the type to have some scene girl with more legs than brains hanging off your arm.”

Mary thinks that’s a little uncharitable: he’s always been an equal-opportunity lay.

“She seems legit though,” the girl continues. “Makes sense.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She heads for the door, but stops to smirk at him. “Looks like I helped after all.”

As she swings back inside, Mary looks down to realize his hard-on is gone.

Mickey doesn’t cut him early, but he doesn’t make him stay past closing either. Even so, it’s still after 3am when he gets to Suey’s. The bills are gone from the counter, but there are no new dishes in the sink. He opens the fridge to find a pizza box crumpled into the top, balanced precariously on the other items. Mary takes it out and inhales the cold pizza right from the box; he knows they’re all for him because Suey fucking hates pepperoni. (Though it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s put one piece of pineapple in the center to mess with him.)

He leaves the box by the trash (he’ll flatten it tomorrow), and then makes his way to her bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, lest he incur her wrath.

When he finally wiggles into her twin bed in his boxers, he’s bone tired. His dick still kinda wants some action, but Mary thinks he’d probably just fall asleep in the middle, and Suey really would bite his head off if he woke her up for no reason. He wishes she’d just sleep nude, but finding her in one of his well-worn shirts is the next best thing. He doesn’t mean to wake her up, but he can’t help himself from running his hands all over her—this girl who sees him and not his “image.”

“Mare?” she says in a quiet, sleepy voice.

He kisses her head.

“Go back to sleep, baby doll.”

She doesn’t speak again, but she squirms around until she’s sprawled across his chest. He’d prefer to have her caught up in a little spoon, but having her pressed into him—body sleep warm—is nothing to wave a stick at.

This is all he wanted, anyway.

Next ➡️

[another-bloody-multimuse]

CRUELLA DE VIL - What is your muse’s fashion style? for everyone because I love clothes headcanons

Disney villain asks!

Penelope: A combination of fancy/expensive jewellery and casual clothing. Usually with some level of cleavage on display. Think gold, precious stones (fake diamonds, though), ridiculously tall high heels, painted nails. Usually in different shades of pink. Darker pinks accompanied with black, lighter pinks accompanied with complimentary colours or white. Clothes are often figure hugging, albeit not ridiculously skin tight.

The extravagance/expense is toned down a lot for main verse/Team Skull Pen, though is still in full force for her Team Magma and Flare incarnations. Flare Pen specifically is also often seen in oranges and blacks, as fitting of someone often seen hanging off Lysandre Delannoy's arm. A hint of alternative fashion in Skull Pen's look, or "goth lite" basically, thanks to Guzma's influence.

Examples: [x] [x] [x]

Alder: Comfort is king, so his clothes are easy to move in. And sometimes a little on the shabby side, as well. Doesn't really bother if things are a touch of the threadbare side, and likes the aesthetic a poncho gives him. Often chooses quite neutral colours, shades of whites, blacks, beige. Maybe with a bit of pale orange thrown in to compliment his hair colour, too.

Knit sweatshirts, maybe a long-ish cardigan over a t-shirt.

Examples: [x] [x] [x]

Guzma: Baggy, black and white, with maybe a bit of gold or purple thrown in for good measure. Tries to go for a typical "hard man"/"gangster" type look. Sometimes with big, chunky gold chains, drop crotch joggers, trainers, akin to his canon look. Sometimes a more punk aesthetic, in a Sex Pistols vibe. Albeit accidentally, since they were before his time.

Piercings, partially shaved hairstyles, tattoos, spikes all appeal, too. Doesn't have any real tattoos yet, but will probably get some in the future. Doesn't have any immediately visible piercings. I'll, uh, let you come to your own conclusions there.

Oh, and rude shirts. Can be rude because it's just the word "FUCK" in giant letters, can be rude because it's offensive and/or sexually crude. If it's a t-shirt you wouldn't want someone to wear around your kids, it'll suit Guzma perfectly.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x]

Océane: A toned down version of Pen. She'll occasionally rock some expensive jewellery, but her tastes are generally less ridiculously priced and more down to earth. Lavenders and lilacs are popular with her, as are form fitting t-shirts and jeans. Often seen with short nails and a natural makeup look.

Jewellery tastes are usually kept to something black and gold. Not opposed to wearing heels, though as no stranger to working hard gardening, the nail polish and heels are much less of a guarantee with her than, say, Pen or Oleana.

Formalwear depends on the type of event. She has been seen dressed up to the nines as expected of someone from a royal bloodline, in a red and black theme, but sometimes if appropriate will wear a white trouser suit, with some gold jewellery on the more understated side of things.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Sinclair: Sinclair basically has two modes when it comes to his dress sense. Suave, sophisticated, formal. Or a Pokeverse Joe Lycett.

Sinclair is quite typical of a Rich Person, with no qualms about spending obscene amounts of money on ridiculously expensive clothing. Out of his siblings (Océane and Lysandre @nats-rp-world), he's the least down to earth by far. Signet rings, ridiculous amounts of gold and precious gems (though was probably talked out of real diamond jewellery). Waistcoats, cufflinks, shiny shoes, ties, you get the idea. In cool greys and blues.

And then Pokeverse Joe Lycett Mode is. Well. Anything goes. Fluffy, hot pink, leopard or zebra print, leather, sunglasses

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Ghetsis: Oh. Oh God. Where do I even begin?

Pre-Plasma, he probably favoured expensive suits and jewellery similar to Sinclair when dressed as a human being and not a Muppet. With the addition of sunglasses regardless of the weather/location to hide his scarred eye. During and post-Plasma, however, when he stopped giving a fuck, he leant hard into his occult aesthetic and basically started dressing like the evil cult leader that he became.

While he has an interest in occult/supernatural/paranormal symbolism in general, his personal aesthetic has always been toward eyes, including Turkish nazars and the Egyptian Eye of Horus.

Plasma-era Ghetsis favoured long, elaborately made flowing robes, especially ones that allowed his scarred arm to be concealed completely, and/or ones with a very high collar to hide his lopsided mouth. And yet still had the audacity to pretend not to be completely evil. My man is not subtle.

Post-Plasma Dennis is just as up his own butthole with fancy, elaborate clothing. Just more with a royal theme, because hey, now everyone knows that he was the team's true king, why not lean into that particular aesthetic? Other than all the reasons of being a decent human being that we can immediately think of. Some kind of half cape or a way to hide his injured arm, gloves included, are still very much welcomed.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Lance: Capes, capes, capes, capes, capes, capes. My boy loves a good cape.

Often seen in his dragon master outfit, or a variation of it, which there are several. Normally in dark blues, a bit of orange, and a black and red cape. Though he does have an outfit that's more red than blue, as well, ala LGPE. Though in the summers, he's more likely to be seen wearing traditional garb instead, to try and keep cool.

He favours a red, white and gold version of the outfit, due to his own Gyarados being shiny. But he does also have a black and blue version.

For shits and giggles, he also got a version of his dragon master outfit in the colours of Dragonite, though it hasn't seen much use yet. Not after Cynthia found out about it and mercilessly took the piss.

Has probably leant into his black and red (ish) cape's aesthetic to dress up as a vampire on Hallowe'en. A more casual outfit tends to be simple, jeans, jacket, t-shirt and boots. Something that can be easily thrown on.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Giovanni: Suits all the way. Giovanni likes to look good, and he's damn well aware of when he does. Suits range from form to business casual, maybe sometimes with a turtleneck in lieu of a shirt. His outfits scream class and sophistication.

The mob boss look of a fedora and long coat has been retired, but he still appreciates the aesthetic.

And then sometimes he just dads out in Hawaiian shirts, shorts and sandals. No socks, though, he's not a complete heathen.

Silver must be so proud.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Marnie: Black teamed with pastel pink, leather, spikes. Basically punk aesthetic. Marnie joins Guzma in an appreciation for tattoos, shaved hairstyles and piercings, and like Ghetsis (no, I didn't expect this comparison, either), has an interest in occult symbolism. Though Marnie's interests more lie in witchcraft than general occultism.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Mustard: Sports jackets and jaunty hats. Like Alder, Mustard prefers clothes that are easy to move in. Which is understandable, given the fact that this is a ripped old man who is still in sufficient shape to perform fuckin' flips and shit.

He's often seen exercising in a karate gi. Barefoot if he's in the dojo, and in trainers if he's outside. Which granted, don't really go together, but it's Mustard. Eccentric old man gives zero fucks.

As well as the hat he's seen in game, he also takes a shine to pork pie and bowler hats. Usually in darker colours, but brightened up with a nice teal, or yellow. Sometimes he'll sport a t-shirt with something silly/funny on it. Though unlike Guzma, his can actually be appropriately worn in public.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Rose: Professional Farhad favours fancy suits, usually in a sleek grey, accented with red. A suit in general will do the job for him when he has to look formal, but that's definitely his preferred signature look. No matter what, however, his tie will be sporting a rose knot. The rose knot is non-negotiable. Partly for the obvious reason of relating to his name, but also because it just looks damn impressive.

He often keeps an earring in one ear and a lot of the time it's an impressive looking stud, but unlike the more pretentious (or wanky) muses like Ghetsis or Sinclair, Farhad doesn't care about getting the real deal, the most expensive thing. A simple stud or hoop is plenty sufficient.

Professional mode or not, he's also not even slightly afraid to rock some eyeliner. It makes him look amazing and he doesn't give a shit about how "socially acceptable" it is for a man, and doesn't try and make it sound more masculine by referring to it as "guyliner".

When partaking in religious holidays, he opts for a simple black yarmulke.

Casual Rose isn't quite as eye-bleedingly horrible as in the past. He might still try and disguise himself with a pair of sunglasses and a change of wardrobe, but no more eye-watering polka dot shorts. His non-professional wear leans more toward business casual nowadays, seeing how "incognito mode" never really worked. So on a day to day basis, he's seen in polo shirts and jeans, often in varying shades of purple or red.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Leon: Who wears short shorts? Leon wears short shorts! Leon is often seen in clothes that can be easily exercised in. Partly because he does a lot of it, and partly because he likes that they tend to draw attention to his figure. Little shirts, tight tops and one of the many, many hats from his collection.

He is also a fan of neon 80s patterns. Particularly the neon ones that look like the carpet in an arcade. He also genuinely enjoys a nice regal, fur lined cape. It's just a shame that he decided to plaster sponsorships all over the back of it...

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Peony: In contrast to the bright orange expedition outfit that he debuted in, Peony's fashion sense is quite toned down and dark. Greys and black mainly. During his teens, however, he was another one for punk fashion.

Like Rose, he also unashamedly wears makeup, and is occasionally seen with a yarmulke during holidays (Hashem verse only).

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x]

Oleana: Minus the odd choker that Oleana enjoys wearing, her fashion sense is more often than not kept looking professional, in shades of red and black. Rose themed jewellery is a lot of the time considered too "on the nose", but every now and then she'll indulge.

She keeps her nails professionally manicured, painted red, and short. And similarly to Pen, has a penchant for high heels.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Maxie: A lot of the times, Maxie keeps it simple in the Hoenn heat, in just shirts and shorts. Accompanied by socks and sandals, unfortunately. But still. He finds the whole disgust of socks/sandals to be overdone, and therefore won't let it stop him from wearing them if he wants to.

And then sometimes he'll find something really truly, spectacularly hideous and be unable to resist buying it just for shits and giggles.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Bede:

This probably goes without saying.

Any and all shades of pink are fair game for Bede, usually with blue jeans and white trainers, for everyday wear. He likes to accessorise with the gold watch from Rose, and a choker, either plain black, or in subtle bi pride colours depending on how confident he's feeling about his sexuality. He also has his ears pierced, and an industrial bar through one.

Also, being a teenage edgelord, it's not unexpected to see him in tops that have slogans like "I don't care", "I hate everyone", or something else equally delightful printed on the front.

A few things with a rose on them are in his wardrobe as well, because... well, Father.

And the toe shoes have long since been binned.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] 

[amphtaminedreams]

A/W 2020 Fashion Month & Top 20 Collections: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 4)

Hi all,

Welcome to part 4! It’s gonna be a bit of a shorter one because I wasn’t sure if I could fit the last few collections into my part 3 since I also want to include a ranking of my favourite F/W20 shows. I have so many ideas for what I’d like my next few posts to be (there’ll probably be a bit of gap between them as I would like to try and get some fiction writing in too) and I need help and recommendations on one post in particular so I thought I’d open by explaining that if anyone would like to send me suggestions! The post is basically going to highlight the often under-appreciated personal style of PoC, and I’d also like to make sure I include all types of bodies and genders and ethnicities (other than white girls, as we get enough credit as it is, all a tall, skinny blonde woman has to do is wear some light wash jeans, heels and a blouse and high fashion Twitter are posting non-stop about how incredible her style is)! This can be a celebrity, a model, an influencer or even just one of your friends if you think they deserve some hype too! Obviously there’s only so many photos I can include but I will make sure to look at any suggestions, though of course I’m gonna be biased towards the grungier looks; I gave Dolls Kill a pass for a long time because I thought the brand had changed and become more responsible over the last few years but since Shoddy Lynn’s thoughtless Instagram post during the protests last month and then her lacklustre response video, I say fuck that “goth is white” bullshit, alternative black women are hot af. I’ll also make sure to include a list of my favourite black owned clothing lines I’ve seen people talking about on Twitter and Instagram so again, if you have any suggestions feel free to inbox me. Other than that, I have a couple of lookbooks planned and after, either a post about my favourite shows for style inspiration OR a lookbook depending on whether I have the clothes to do it already/can source a few things from Depop-Depp-I’ve made a commitment not to buy anything new for the next couple of months and I want to stick to that this time round! I’d also like to do a general collation of my favourite summer outfits, an almost scrapbook-y kinda post, and another post on some of my favourite fashion icons (I’ll probs end up repeating a lot of the women from the post I was talking about above but I’ll try and include different outfits to keep it varied!). 

Now, into the final part, and the top 20, starting with Tory Burch (I’m really pissed off because I added an unnecessary E in after the R and now Tumblr is once again being stupid and not saving any of my editing changes-also I said on the next post instead of in in the last paragraph and my anal-retentiveness is kicking into high gear). 

You’d think it’s a kinda anti-climatic one to open with but I do like this collection! It reminds me a bit of last season’s Miu Miu but more so of Brock’s general aesthetic, though with more layers and in some ways to its detriment, a lot more wearable. Looking like something from a bygone era is part of what gives Brock its mystique, but Burch’s designs are practically made for the Chelsea born and bred lifestyle blogger who dresses for a cold spell in the Coachella valley all year long and treats trawling Pimlico’s furniture shops and meeting their girlfriends for coffee like it’s a full-time job. She’s probably born into money and doesn’t work all that hard but hey, she looks angelic holding a bouquet of flowers and in 2020 we all low-key want her life, right? It’d go against my ethics but...*whispers* it would be nice to be that girl just for a couple of days. It is a gorgeous collection, with a lush colour palette and an ever graceful variety of prints and textures, and it toes the line of being accessible and being worthy of a fashion week spot with dexterity. 8/10 and it only loses marks because it’s safe for the brand.

When it comes to Valentino, they’re a pretty reliable favourite for me, and this season’s collection doesn’t break tradition; this one is slightly grittier than usual too which is a big win for me. Whilst the usual sophistication and delicate details are there, quirky embroidery, sequins and tulle, we also get a lot of leather and more black than usual, which I pray doesn’t a herald a return to people thinking “I only own black clothes and listen to Artic Monkeys” is a personality trait. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but there seems to be a lot of aquatically inspired pieces in this collection too; the 3d roses resemble scales to me (and are a really unique texture), and the way the tulle is placed kinda reminds me of fins and has a mermaid on land feel. It wouldn’t surprise me, since Valentino does tend to draw from nature quite a bit. Highs for me were the Valentino red tulle piece and the tulle pieces in general, of course with the embroidered florals as well which the basic bitch in me always looks forward to. The few lows were concentrated in the leopard print section, a print that for me is really overdone and reminds me of recent Dolce and Gabbana. It was cool when layered with the matching coat but I otherwise could’ve done without it.

Vera Wang is another one of my reliable faves-I think I like this collection even more than the last, it really is a fucking DREAM. The overly floral pieces I wasn’t too keen on but I’ll ignore that on the basis that as with Gucci, the tulle-harness combo is everything I look for in a dress and more. I know manic-pixie-dream-girl is a bit of a slur (not a slur slur but you know what I mean) in terms of the associated character, but this 90s Courtney Love grunge twist on that aesthetic is gold, fully realised big anarchist fairy energy (which is a screen name I’m surprised I don’t see more often and which I might now steal). These dresses were made for someone like Zoe Kravitz or FKA Twigs on the red carpet, and if god forbid I somehow ever ended up on one, I would go to the ends of the earth to be wearing one of the dresses from this collection. Aside from the dresses, I appreciated the moody doesn’t-want-to-be-at-the-family-function teenager inspired sleeves and the 2014 Tumblr Cruel Intentions style knee high socks. Love, love, LOVE it.

So, Versace started off strong with the all black looks-the cut outs were cute if impractical and the fit and flare trousers in particularly were really well fitted (from a distance, at least). I hated the film Red Sparrow but the visuals were very cool, and this section reminded me of that, like a high fashion collection based on Jennifer Lawrence’s character. There were some stunning colour combos in the Ashish like hyper-floral part too, and the houndstooth, marble and Versace tile prints were sick. The black jumper with the flowers on reminds me of a jumper of my nan’s I always wanted that my aunty ended up donating to a charity shop after she died not knowing I liked it. Gutted (not just about the jumper obviously, looool).

HOWEVER, as with many 91 look collections, it was sloppy at times. A lot of pieces I at first liked (I.E the silver dress we saw Kendall Jenner in, included above) are kind of unfinished up close. There was also a big varsity inspired section which was nice at times but got pretty repetitive and occasionally looked like it could pass for Jack Wills or a bad Michael Kors collection. On the whole, it had both its pros and its cons which puts it directly in the middle of the pack.

Victoria Beckham’s collection is near the lower-middle quartile when it comes to plotting the highs and lows of the F/20 collections. The pieces are pretty and accessible, I’d definitely wear them, but they’re predictable and mostly a rip-off of other brands who did something similar in a more interesting way. Though her collections are never really experimental, this one is particularly safe, and she and whoever helped design this season’s pieces were clearly avoiding the edges of the box like a child playing the floor is lava. It’s alright, and I hate coming towards the end of the post with negativity, but I have to be honest, and this just doesn’t really interest me beyond a “yeah, that’s nice” glance.

Vivienne Westwood, on the other hand, is always interesting whether I would actually wear it myself or not. Despite the mix and matchiness that is essential to the deconstructed look, which being the basic bitch I am I often struggle to see past, there were some gorgeous pieces and eurgh, I could really talk about that Bella Hadid look all day. The contrast between the exaggerated femininity of the waist cinchers against the androgyny of the less structured, oversized pieces is a really interesting one and the colour combinations work beautifully together. I also love the idea behind the collection, which is, in the words of Andreas Kronthaler about “rites of spring, and the good and the bad, and conflict, and the good prevailing over evil”. Ahhh, I hear you say. THAT’S what’s with the garlic necklace. Can I get another pat on the back for summing up this collection as “vampire slaying uniform” in my notes? I mean, that’s kind of a good vs. evil situation, isn’t it? I know it’s hard to ignore how hot vampires always are in TV series and movies but just think of the true forms of the ones off Penny Dreadful and remember THEY DRINK BLOOD (I personally think being a vampire would be really cool, just need to work out how to do it “ethically”).

Lastly, Zimmerman, and I really can’t say how happy I am to end on a positive note because this collection was stunning. Not without all the characteristically ornate, indulgent and painstakingly detailed efforts we’ve come to expect from Nicky and Simone Zimmerman, these looks (in an icy winter themed colour palette as well) are the offspring of a sophisticated flower child and a 70s glam rocker and I think with this sentence I’ve finally put my style aspirations into words. Honestly, give me the money to produce a modern day Almost Famous and I’ll make my character this no-nonsense intersectional feminist front woman of a fictional Haim-like band who sings with the voice of an angel but is rock and roll as fuck and eats men for breakfast and I’ll put her in this collection and (deep breath) it would be ICONIC. There. Got to the point eventually. Am I talking about a 2020s version of Steve Nicks? Possibly. After all, I do have a framed illustration of her on my wall. But regardless, I need those lace-up velvet BOOTS, that mesh dress with the celestial embroidery, the flame detail pieces, the white pussy bow blouse with the eyes on it. Everything is sooo dreamy; when I was looking through the collection for my favourites, I saved pretty much every. single. look. IT’S EVERYTHING I STRIVE TO BE. WHY CAN’T I AFFORD ZIMMERMAN GOD DAMN IT!?

See, I’ll be going on about Zimmerman in a couple of paragraphs again because it will be very high in my top 20, which I’m so glad is a top 20 BTW. I know I said it would be a top 10 in my last post because I thought that was how I structured it last time but I double checked and it is 20, which is a relief; once again, picking only 10 collections would be very hard. SO! Let’s get into it!

1. Gucci

I hate being predictable but Gucci once again holds the top spot for me. How could I not love this? I would say that I hope Alessandro Michele fucks up next season so I don’t come off as a boot licker but when the boots in question are platform Mary Janes and knee high socks and they’re underneath tulle with BDSM inspired harnesses on top...maybe boot sole doesn’t taste so bad after all.

2. Zimmerman

Well, I did say it wouldn’t be long until you were seeing the same outfits again, so at least you know my word is good.

3. Moschino

Wow, as if putting Gucci first again wasn’t bad enough, Moschino’s also a non-mover. But...Marie Antoinette this season and Picasso last? And this campy? It’s like Jeremy Scott reached into my brain magician-into-a-top-hat-style, picked out an interest of mine at random, and tried to communicate this to me through the medium of design with THE most chaotic energy humanly possible. I an only commend the man, because he succeeded, and I approve. It’s weird because before I always saw Jeremy Scott’s designs as tacky and yet I’ve loved all the collections I’ve reviewed, so I must ask...are the collections getting less tacky or am I getting more tacky? Much to think about.

4. Vera Wang

The battle armour of a punk princess. Not very good at protecting against knives, arrows, bullets or...anything really, but I’ve never really been the kind of person to get into physical fights (apart with a bouncer who tried to push me down the stairs once at an ABBA night but I was really drunk and she was mean, alright!?), so who cares? Nobody can make you do anything in dresses this pretty.

5. Lanvin

I’m a few years behind everyone else but I’m still on the Mad Men hype train and I don’t ever want to get off. All I wish is that Betty Draper had *SPOILERS* divorced Don’s detty arse earlier and rode off into the sunset in that white Bella Hadid coat with the red lip to match (or the checkered one above will do).

6. Etro

As long as she remains the queen of dreamy bohemian fashion, I’m not gonna do Etro dirty by putting her any lower than this ever again on the basis that she’s not conceptual enough which ashamedly is what I implied in my last ranking-yes, Etro is a she because just as most women deserve more from men, she is beautiful and deserves better than my previous disrespect! I said what I said. 

7. Dilara Findikoglu

I see your Thom Browne and your Commes Des Garcons and I raise you my “weird”-though-not-actually-that-weird-at-all-can-we-all-just-dress-like-this-on-a-day-to-day-basis-please? fave, Dilara.

8. Paco Rabanne

Battle armour that actually COULD protect you against knives, arrows, and bullets. Maybe. Well, you’d hope so anyway for the price.

9. Rodarte

Suddenly my phobia of spiders has evaporated. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that these ones are diamond encrusted, what are you on about?

10. Alberta Ferretti

The colour combinations in this collection were stunning. Honestly. I just picked a really bad pic to illustrate that. Go read my first post to see (grifting 101: complete)!

11. Charlotte Knowles

I saw Bella Hadi wearing a Charlotte Knowles two piece, so I bought a Charlotte Knowles two piece. 

LMAOOO, I wish.

12. Balenciaga

It’s occurred to me a couple of posts too late now on the basis that Tumblr is being a dick and won’t go back and let me edit stuff, even little typos, but I’m now wondering if there’s a link between the climate change theming of the show and the exaggerated structures of the pieces? Ya know, the whole abundance is killing the planet line of thinking? I know analysis isn’t exactly on brand with these silly mini captions and that oversized and exaggerated proportions is one of Balenciaga’s running motifs anyway buuut just a thought I had! And sidenote: I do believe overconsumption is killing the planet! The way I phrased that made it seem like I’m a climate change denying dickhead! That I am not! Maybe if I shave my head, legally change my name to Steve, get a British flag tattoo on my bicep, and spend every waking moment in my nearest Spoons I’ll get there but it’s not on the agenda quite yet!

13. Christopher Kane

If fashionable robots took over the world, they’d raid Christopher Kane’s studio and fry us all with laser beams whilst wearing his dresses.

14. Fendi

Siri, play Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX.

15. Olivier Theyskens 

Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. NEXT TIME I WILL REMEMBER WHAT THE PROPER NAME IS INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO GOOGLE IT AGAIN. Come on brain, you’re supposed to be good at this kinda thing, make it happen.

16. Elie Saab

Blair Waldorf’s wet dream. Add in some platform boots and chain jewellery and now it’s my wet dream too.

Because Chuck Bass is creepy as FUCK and maybe it’s because I watched Gossip Girl at the ripe old age (lol) of 21 and most people watch it as teenagers but I don’t know why YOU WERE ALL SO OBSESSED WITH HIM! He tries to sexually assault Jenny who is about 14 in the VERY FIRST EPISODE. I think I went off on a tangent here but it had to be said. You girls have no taste.

Don Draper was an absolute dog, but he was played by Jon Hamm, and he might be one of the finest men on the planet. What’s your excuse, Chuck and Blair enthusiasts?

17. Miu Miu

As someone who has probably been/met many a spoilt brat in her time, I appoint Miu Miu as the official sponsor of the Spoilt Brat™ aesthetic and yeah, that’s something I just made up but I’m on the money here. Imagine one of those “daddy, can you get me a pony?” types all grown up. Are you telling me you don’t picture her in Miu Miu? Because that sounds like a lie.

18. YSL

The war flashbacks I get of the Friends episode where Ross tries to get out of those leather trousers aside (I know it’s PVC her not leather but they have the same sheen, you can’t deny it), these outfits turn me into the irl version of the heart eyes emoji. It’s not like I think this is the best collection I’ve ever seen, YSL could def push the boat out a bit in terms of experimentation, but there aren’t many people who wouldn’t look hot as fuck in one of these pieces

19. Balmain

I didn’t like ALL of it, but the looks that I did like were amongst the ones that stuck out to me most when I was reflecting on the collections I’ve reviewed: the breast plates and silk capes and the scorpion detailing are real chef’s kiss moments.

20. Marques Almeida

Miss the collection that gave us this coat off the list? Never.

SO!

That is the end! Wow! I started saving the photos for this review back in late January/early February or whenever it was that the first fashion week began and now it’s mid-fucking July!? I don’t know if that speaks more to my incompetency or what a state the last few months have been. I’m not gonna write a super long ending paragraph because you’ve heard enough from me already and it’s 2:30am and I’m being hassled by Trump supporters on Twitter (literally just for stating that it’s a privilege to be able to pursue a career you truly have a passion for rather than having to be practical about finances first) anddddd I’ve got a closing shift tomorrow so I should probably log the fuck off and remove my clown makeup before it’s time to start my shift, lol!

Quick recommendation before I wrap this up, there was a really interesting debate on ITV literally a few hours ago on the Stephen Lawrence case that I thought I would recommend (they also showed the 1999 dramatic portrayal of events afterwards) about racism in England and whether or not much has changed since the murder. I didn’t catch the whole thing but from what I did see, there were some really strong points being made and I think it could be a good thing to sit and watch with your family members if you want to get talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and aren’t sure how to broach the topic. I bring it up because I feel like most middle-aged white people trust ITV so they’re less likely to turn their noses up (lol, I wish I was joking) at it and maybe go in with a more open mind. I’d like to keep the conversation about social issues going so if there’s anything you’d like me to get some information together on and make a post about-I read yesterday that there’d been arrests of THE PEOPLE PROTESTING the way Breonna Taylor’s death has been handled. No, not the police officers responsible for her death, the people simply pointing out that those police officers have done wrong. It’s a ridiculous situation and just shows how deeply embedded a police officer’s supposed right to kill and to use force is in upholding the American status quo. I wish I could end the post on better news, but let’s hope that next time I post, there is some, and as always thank you for reading til the end if you did get this far! I really don’t have all that many followers on here but do et me know if there’s anything I can reblog or share to help.

Lauren x

[purplepersnicketywrites]

For the "mini" fic prompts, can I request #19? :DDD

‘things you said when we were the happiest we ever were’

YA

okay so this is like, one of the SAPPIEST things i’ve written I think! it’s also 3.7k words!

—

“I like you,” Kirishima said.

Katsuki stared at him. The redhead seemed to squirm under his gaze, lower lip bitten between his stupid-sharp teeth, eyes flicking away from Katsuki’s face to somewhere on the ground. When Kirishima had begged and pouted until Katsuki had agreed to take them both hiking, this was not the conversation Katsuki had been expecting to have once they reached the top.

That didn’t mean it was something unwelcome.

Kirishima drew in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and met Katsuki’s eyes again. “I like you, Bakugou. Um. A lot. So I was wondering if maybe I could ask you out on a date?”

Contrary to popular belief, Katsuki was actually quite familiar with his feelings. It didn’t mean that he always agreed with them. In this case, however, Katsuki embraced the warm and golden glowing bubble that cast its light through his entire being like a miniature sun. Happiness wasn’t enough of a word to describe it.

Katsuki didn’t let his voice waver when he replied to his best friend. “Ask, then.”

“Oh, uh,” Kirishima swallowed with an audible gulp. “Would you want to go on a date with me?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Hey Katsuki, what’s your plan after Yuuei?”

Katsuki frowned slightly and paused his braiding of Eijirou’s hair. “Plan? For what?”

“Oh, like,” Eijirou waved one of his hands around, leaning back into Katsuki’s chest. “You gonna sidekick first? Or go pro straight from the get-go.”

“Pro, obviously,” Katsuki said. “Gonna open an agency an’ everything. I’ve got the reputation to pull it off already.”

“Yeah, I guess you do,” Eijirou said, dropping his head backwards onto Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki peered at his face and Eijirou grinned at him. There was something not a hundred-percent genuine in that grin and Katsuki almost frowned. “So are you looking for an agency building?”

“Haven’t had all that much time for it,” Katsuki said, watching Eijirou for signs of reaction to anything he was saying . “Googled some shit but I’d want to go and see wherever these places are. Can’t exactly go property hunting in the middle of term.”

Eijirou turned his head and kissed the first part of Katsuki’s skin that he reached, just under his jaw. “How about apartments?”

“Gonna have to be near the agency, so I gotta look for that first,” Katsuki said. “If I want somewhere with decent villain traffic it’ll probably be in one of the more expensive areas with a high population density. The government agency fund doesn’t cover personal accomodations, so I’ll probably have to set up a hammock in my office for a couple of months until the Heroics feedback kicks in and I start earning something decent.”

“Hm,” Eijirou said, kissing Katsuki’s neck again. As much as Katsuki wanted to indulge in that, he had a feeling that something was on his boyfriend’s mind.

“What is it?” he asked, prodding Eijirou’s cheek.

“Oh, well, um,” Eijirou pulled a slightly shifty face. “I was just- I mean. I don’t have as much of an ironclad plan at the moment…”

“So, what?” Katsuki tilted his head. “You’re lookin’ for advice?”

Eijirou’s face skewed a little more. “Not exactly. Uh. I just. Um. Would you ever, uh, consider maybe having two hammocks in your office?”

Oh.

Katsuki stared at his boyfriend and felt overwhelmed all of a sudden. Holy shit.

“Fuck, I love you.”

Now they were both staring. Katsuki could feel his cheeks heating up but damn, it was the truth, and he’d had to say it.

“What?” Eijirou said, the first of them to break out of the stupor. “You- What?”

“I love you, Kirishima Eijirou,” Katsuki said. The words tasted right on his tongue.

Eijirou sat up, twisting to face Katsuki and reach for his face. “You- You- Holy-”

“I love you,” Katsuki repeated, pushing his face forward so that their foreheads met. Now that he’d said the words, he couldn’t stop. “I love you! I fucking love you, Eijirou.”

Eijirou kissed him, hard and sweet. This kiss didn’t last all that long with Eijirou pulling back to pant through his grin. “I love you too.”

A sensation not unlike one of Kaminari’s shocks zipped up Katsuki’s spine. His stomach churned, but in a good way, like all of his insides were dancing. Katsuki felt elated, giddy even, and he wrapped his arms around Eijirou’s waist to bring him closer.

They traded words and kisses and smiles and words again, over and over and over.

It occurred to Katsuki that he hadn’t actually answered Eijirou’s question, so he pulled away slightly - and only slightly, with their noses still brushing and Eijirou’s breath hot against his mouth.

“You do know we can share a hammock, right, dumbass?” Katsuki asked.

Eijirou very being seemed to brighten at the question, and he responded with his own. “Does that mean that you do wanna live together after Yuuei?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

Katsuki wasn’t normally one for nerves in intense situations, but this was something entirely different. It wasn’t like some fight against a villain where Katsuki could explode and explode and put his feelings into action. It wasn’t remaining calm while his partner was injured, letting everything condense into a laser-focus until Eijirou was safe.

No. This were the fluttery, flurry-of-emotions type nerves that Katsuki didn’t know how to deflect into productivity. The kind of nerves that part of him enjoyed, the nerves he had felt just before leaning into his first kiss as he tangled his fingerss into red hair, the nerves that had shuddered through him in waves when he had knelt on one knee in front of Eijirou with a ring in one hand.

“Yo, how’re you hold- Ooh, not so hot,” Kyouka said, poking her head around the door. She glanced around the room and at Katsuki, who was sitting on one of the haphazardly scattered chairs. “They left you alone in here? Fools.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘they’, Headphones? You’re on my side, too,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Oh it’s Headphones right now, huh? Man you’re sweating buckets,” Kyouka said, putting her hands on her hips.

Katsuki glared at her. “No fucking kidding.”

“Hey now, it’s just Eijirou,” Kyouka said. “Think about that dumb grin he’s gonna be wearing. Just for you.”

God, Eijirou’s fucking smiles. Eijirou was easy with them, flashing a grin here, showing off a smirk there, but not that easy. Some of Eijirou’s smiles were rarer than others, and Katsuki adored drawing them out of him. Like the way Eijirou smiled when he woke up, so soft and sleepy and content. No one else got to see that.

“I love him so fucking much,” Katsuki said, groaning and burying his face in his hands. “That’s not the- Ugh. We shoulda just eloped.”

“Says Mr ‘If These Napkins Aren’t The Right Colour I’m Gonna Commit A Crime’.”

“Shuddup,” Katsuki said. “Someone who doesn’t think leopard print or pitch black tablecloths are an acceptable wedding aesthetic had to be in charge of decor.”

“So that ruled out all of your friends,” Kyouka said, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting down. “Because we’re all either from the same dimension that Hawaiian Shirt designs are stolen from, or goths.”

“Exactly,” Katsuki said. “Useless, the lot of you.”

“Denki threw a bangin’ bachelor party, though, right?” Kyouka asked.

“I guess,” Katsuki said. Pikachu had taken them all to a theme-park with enough express passes to skip the queue for any of the rides. It had been fun. He had made out with Eijirou on the ferris wheel like they were teenagers again, and no one had asked for his autograph.

“There, see? You’re smiling again, Blasty,” Kyouka said. Oh, well, the distraction had helped. “Think about how powerful you’ll feel when you can say ‘my husband’.”

“So fucking powerful.”

“Precisely! It’s a good feeling,” Kyouka grinned. “Remember when Denki kept dropping ‘my wife’ into nearly every conversation?”

“Too well,” Katsuki said, shaking his head.

“Well that’s gonna be you and Eijirou, soon. You’ll be rubbing it in everyone’s faces,” Kyouka said. Fuck, that sounded good. “Alright, final check. You got your suit on properly?”

Katsuki looked down at himself. “Pretty sure.”

“Tie, shoes, any weird decorative things?”

“All there,” Katsuki said. He was wearing Red Riot themed cufflinks, and he knew Eijirou had a matching pair with his own brand.

“Makeup and hair?” Kyouka asked, tilting her head.

“Jeez, it ain’t like this is a broadcast production,” Katsuki muttered. “But yeah. It’s all sorted. If you can’t see it then Mina did her job right.”

Kyouka studied him for a few minutes. “Vows?”

“Hell yeah,” Katsuki said. “Everything’s ready. It’s just the fuckin’ waiting.”

“Good job you don’t have to do that any more,” Kyouka said, glancing at her watch. “It’s time to go, Katsuki!”

“Oh, shit,” Katsuki said, standing. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, okay, let’s go.”

Everything after that was blurred by adrenaline, until he was standing up near the altar at a very familiar pair of red eyes as Eijirou approached up the aisle. Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away - wouldn’t, in any case. The very world was glowing.

“Hi,” Eijirou whispered, once he was standing in front of Katsuki. God, he looked so fucking handsome. “Are you ready for this?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Whoa!” Eijirou said, laughing from where he was pinned to the wall next to the door in their apartment as Katsuki adorned his throat in kisses. “Uh, what’s the special occasion, Blasty?”

Katsuki shook his head. “Just kiss me back already.”

Eijirou planted a smacker on Katsuki’s cheek. Ugh, he hadn’t meant like that and Eijirou knew it, judging from the mischief in his husband’s eyes.

“Gonna make me guess, huh? Was it something that happened today?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Fine, if Eijirou was gonna be like this… He leant in and began to work up a hickey on Eijirou’s collarbone.

“That’s a yes, huh? Augh, I’m gonna have to cover that u- Katsuki- Gonna have to cover that up! Was it something I did?”

Katsuki nibbled his way up Eijirou’s throat up to his ear.

“Hmm, was it the b- Oh.”

Eijirou grabbed his face and pushed him back. The redhead was staring as Katsuki with his big wide eyes and a kind of thunderstruck expression.

“Is- So you weren’t joking, earlier? With that baby?”

Katsuki grinned at him. “Nope.”

“Katsuki!” Eijirou cried - literally, there were tears forming in his eyes. “You- Soon? Really? You’re ready for kids?”

Katsuki took in Eijirou���s radiant, adoration-filled expression, pictured it directed at a couple of rowdy brats storming around the room with blankets tied onto them as capes. Damn, they’d probably have to move into an actual house - good thing they could afford it now with their ever-growing popularity.

Katsuki pictured reading storybooks together, being woken up in the middle of the night by a kid who’d just had a nightmare, sticking scribbled drawings up on the fridge they were going to have in their big fancy-ass kitchen.

Fuck yes, he was ready for kids. He wanted to be a father with Eijirou so badly that it burned, hotter and brighter than he wanted to be the number one hero.

Katsuki kissed Eijirou, as deeply as he could when his husband was bearing that big goofy grin of his.

“Oh my god,” Eijirou said, arms sweeping around Katsuki’s waist to lift him up and spin the pair of them across the room. “You wanna be a dad with me?!”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“She hasn’t had the best start to life,” the social worker said, looking at her paperwork with a troubled expression. Katsuki didn’t remember her name but Eijirou definitely knew it. “She doesn’t remember all that much - as she was very young - but her birthparents were villains and she was retrieved during a raid on their house. She was rather neglected.”

“Sounds a little like Eri,” Eijirou muttered, and Katsuki grabbed one of his hands to try and stop him from clenching his fists too hard.

“She’s been responding well to her foster family and making progress on all of her developmental targets,” the social worker continued. “But ideally we’d like to get her to a permanent family as soon as possible, so if you’re unsure about proceeding after you’ve met her, let us know as soon as you can so we can go back to looking for another match for her.”

Katsuki nodded. The idea of giving up on the kid rankled with him already, but the rational side of his brain reminded him that if they didn’t end up being compatible, it’d be better for everyone to say so.

“She has two older siblings placed with other families,” the social worker said. “And she currently had regular contact with them. Would you be willing to accomodate this?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Eijirou said. Katsuki nodded again.

They had been stood outside of this two-year-old’s foster home for far too long while the social worker briefed them. Fuck, he just- He wanted to see her already.

“Alright, let’s head in.”

The social worker knocked on the door. The woman who opened the door greeted them with a smile. She was small, but kind-looking, and reminded Katsuki a little of Auntie Inko.

“Welcome!” She said, but the rest of the pleasantries flew over Katsuki’s head. Fuck, he was just too excited. They might be meeting their daughter today.

The foster carer led them into her house and into a kitchen. There. A little girl with a shock of bright, shaggy blue hair sat scribbling furiously as a piece of paper with a green crayon. Katsuki remembered from the paperwork that she was three. He didn’t know how big three-year-olds were supposed to be. Was she tall for her age? Short?

She looked up at them as they entered the room, and Katsuki felt his heart lurch. Her eyes were red. It could be something they all shared. Shit, was he about to start crying? Where the fuck was his composure, what the hell.

“Aoimi,” said the foster carer - that was the girl’s name. “We have some guests today.”

Aoimi narrowed her eyes and looked between the three new faces.

“Why?” she asked. Her foster-mother laughed.

“I thought it would be nice to have some company! Be nice to them, okay?”

“Maybe,” Aoimi said, going back to her colouring.

The foster-carer laughed again. “She has a bit of a personality on her!”

Katsuki met Eijirou’s eyes - his husband was beaming at him.

“Good,” Katsuki said, sitting down in the chair he was pointed to. “You wouldn’t wanna be boring, huh kid?”

Aoimi looked up at him again, as considering as a three-year-old could be. “Wanna see my quirk?”

The girl’s foster-mother looked like she was biting back a grimace. “Now, Aoimi-”

“Yes,” Katsuki said. He looked up at the foster-carer for a moment. “If your quirk’s not too messy to use indoors.”

“It is not,” Aoimi said, wiggling a little in her seat and sitting up straight. Her foster-mother sighed and nodded. Aoimi grinned, and Katsuki watched as the tiny girl’s teeth sharpened. Claws grew from her fingers, and blue fur began to sprout over her skin. A long, thin tail with a tuft of fur at the end of it began to wave around behind her, until the girl Katsuki was looking at was more of a cub.

“That’s pretty cool,” Eijirou said, leaning around Katsuki from his own seat to see Aoimi more clearly.

The girl nodded, teeth still bared. Katsuki thought that as she got older, her canines might even longer than they already were, like a saber-toothed cat. Aoimi detransformed slowly, fur receding and teeth shrinking back into shape. “What are your quirks?”

Katsuki held out one of his hands and let it spark a few times. “I can make explosions.”

“Whoa,” Aoimi’s eyes bugged out a bit. “That’s like Ground Zero!”

Katsuki grinned. “You could say that, yeah.”

The little girl studied him for a long moment. “You are Ground Zero.”

“Yep, my real name is Kirishima Katsuki,” Katsuki said. He pointed at Eijirou. “And the big lug over there is my husband, Kirishima Eijirou.”

“Red Riot,” Aoimi said. She seemed to be taking this quite well. “You’re here ‘cause you wanna adopt me, right? I think you should, it’d be cool to have hero dads.”

Huh.

“Aoimi,” her foster-mother said, sounding exasperated.

“I’m not stupid,” Aoimi said, jutting her chin out. “I can read.”

Holy fuck, it was like looking in a mirror, kinda. Katsuki found himself grinning even harder.

The meeting continued, with Eijirou asking more questions than Katsuki could have thought about this kind of stuff, and Aoimi herself making a pretty big impact on Katsuki. He’d known pretty much from the moment he’d met the girl’s eyes, really, but the more he talked to her, the more determined he was.

He nearly cried again when they were waving goodbye to Aoimi and her foster-mother. God, he was turning into such a fucking sap, wasn’t he?

The social worker reached her car and turned to address them.

“Well, you’ve met Aoimi now. Do you need some time to think about it, or would you like me to put that you’re happy to proceed with the adoption on my report?”

He could tell from the look in Eijirou’s eyes what their answer would be. Eijirou nodded at him.

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say. 

—

“Katsuki! Katsuki come here!”

Katsuki bolted into the room at the sound of Eijirou’s voice. “What’s-”

“Look!” Eijirou pointed to the TV, where some sort of news was airing. “There, there, look! A pair of hero interns from Yuuei just debuted, Katsuki! Guess who it was!”

“Holy shit,” Katsuki squinted at the screen, at the bright blue blob he could just about make out talking to a couple of police officers in the background. “Aoimi?”

“Yes! I just turned the news on and there she was!” Eijirou crowed. “She and her friend on the other internship with Gevaudan apprehended a purse-snatcher with a crocodile quirk. Here, I’ll rewind so you can see.”

“She’s okay, right?” Katsuki asked as Eijirou rolled the news footage back.

Eijirou nodded, bouncing up and down in his seat like he was an excitable teenager again as the takedown of the crocodile villain happened. Her fellow intern looked to have some sort of speed-boosting or strength-based quirk and he had flung Aoimi in her cat form at the villain. She’d been big enough to pin the villain to the ground until the other intern and Gevaudan showed up.

Katsuki found himself beaming. Damn, that was his daughter.

Once Gevaudan had taken over the arrest, Aoimi reverted back to human and grabbed her friend in a tight hug. A very tight hug. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed.

“Man, I wanna call her,” Eijirou said. “I’m gonna call her, got your phone on you?”

Katsuki handed it over, and Eijirou immediately went to Aoimi’s number.

She picked up after three rings. “Dad! Pa! I debuted!”

“We saw on the news, honey!” Eijirou said. “We’re so proud of you!”

“Aw, thank you! I- Yeah, it’s my dads. -I’m so glad you saw it!”

Katsuki leant in to the receiver. “No one can keep Hellcat down! You fuckin’ killed it out there, lioncub.”

“Augh, don’t call me that baby name,” Aoimi complained, though she didn’t sound too put out. “But thanks!”

“It’s my job to call you baby names, snugglekins.”

Katsuki could see Eijirou trying to smother his laughter.

“Pa, you’re so embarrassing.”

Katsuki cackled. “Oh yeah, that reminds me - bring your boyfriend over this weekend and we’ll celebrate the two of you taking down your first villain with a proper meal.”

“Wh- N- We’re not- Shut up, Pa!”

“My mistake,” Katsuki snickered, handing the phone back to Eijirou.

“Seconding the invite, though,” Eijirou said. “Debuts are something worth commemorating!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aoimi said. She paused and said all the rest in a rush. “We’ll be there, love you both, bye.”

Katsuki put his phone back in his pocket and leaned over onto Eijirou. “She’s growing up, Ei.”

“And growing up well,” Eijirou said, curling his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders.

“Definitely doing better than me at that age,” Katsuki snorted.

Eijirou pressed a kiss to his temple. “I think the next generation of heroes is gonna be a good one, huh?”

Katsuki turned to kiss his husband on the lips. Well, with their daughter among them...

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Whew,” Eijirou said. “I’d forgotten how much a mountain can take out of you.”

“Baby.”

Eijirou laughed, still wheezing a little from the climb. “Man, I haven’t been a baby for a long-ass time now, Katsuki, and neither have you.”

“I dunno,” Katsuki said, reaching out to grab his husband’s hand. “Ya still got a baby-face.”

Eijirou rolled his eyes, and Katsuki took a moment to let himself stare at the other man. Yeah, they might both be a little decrepit now, but Eijirou still took his breath away. A lifetime of laughter lined Eijirou’s eyes. Laughter that they had shared, so no doubt Katsuki looked much the same.

Eijirou squeezed his hand, and together they looked out over the view. It hadn’t changed much over the years. Maybe the trees had grown a little. It was still the same landscape that had stretched out before them back when Eijirou had first asked Katsuki out.

“Hey, Katsuki,” Eijirou said. Katsuki turned his head to look back at the best part of the scene. “If someone gave you the chance to go back in time, right back to when we were kids… Would you say yes onther time? Would you do it all again?”

Katsuki stared at Eijirou. What kind of fucking question was that? Did Eijirou really think that Katsuki would want to choose any other life than the one they had carved out together? With all their friends, and their daughter and their grandchildren?

If Katsuki looked back over his memories, his mind was flooded with a golden wash of joy. He’d had a good life. The best life. He had shared it with Eijirou - and fuck, they weren’t even that old yet! There were decades still ahead of them.

Would you do it all again?

There was a twinkle in Eijirou’s eye, and Katsuki snorted. His husband already knew the answer. He’d probably always known the answer.

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

“Yes.”

[sarinataylor]

Will you tell us more about the show and Sarina? Maybe tomorrow ... pretry please 😊

right. take two.

ok so first up: my mom and i were like…. really early, first in line at the gate, early. “why? it was all seated!” i hear you say. well, my service provider was running some kind of promo where i and a guest could get a $20 voucher for food and drink (if we were in the first 350 people) and, well, my mom being a mom was like “we are getting these freebies if i have to kill a man to get them”

we did not get them, we paid $12 for a pita bread to share instead. 

so after finding our seats and freaking tf out cause i like… didn’t realise how good the seats i got were (vindication – camping out in the bathroom at work at 9am for general release tickets was worth it) i went off in search of beer, beer, and more beer. here’s a pic of the seats:

got beer, downed beer, went for more beer. in between beers im just sorta chatting shit with my mom, cause we have like two hours to kill. so it’s now 7ish? an hour and a half until the show starts, and im flicking thru insta as ya do. now, i’d already said to myself that i was gonna keep an eye out for sarina ‘cause she’s been posting stories out and about at shows this tour.

but like. my eyesight is shite, the arena is now half full, and she probably won’t even be out. so my hopes are not high. BUT! then sarina shares the vid her mate natalia took of her so now i know what she’s wearing 🕵️‍♀️

and i shit you fucking not, i look up from my phone, i look across the arena and there she fucking is. i lose my mind.

^ a totally normal reaqction

anyway lmao i turn to my mom and im like……….. mom i think i can see roger’s wife. and my mom, bless her cotton socks, is like “… and?”

and im like MOM I CAN SEE SARINA FUCKING TAYLOR

and my mom is like……. just now realising that, maybe, perhaps, i am not a casual fan. like, not at all. and she’s like….. ok. that’s cool. i, on the other hand, am quietly and calmly losing my everloving shit. 

“do you think….. do you think i should go say hi?”

“no”

my mom, i should point out here, is currently experiencing flashbacks to the text messages she received from me when i got kicked out of elton john after one song.

“but…. i mean. it’s,” here i lower my voice like im talking about some kind of minor deity. “sarina taylor.”

my mom sighs. “if you get kicked out over roger taylor’s wife,” she says, as if that isn’t a perfectly valid reason to get kicked out of anywhere (very much including bed). “i will not follow you. you can sit outside and cry for the three hours of concert, and i will sit in here and enjoy the show. i do not care.”

ice cold.

she clearly thinks im going to propose or something, as if i can’t keep my cool around a gorgeous woman. which……….. like, fair, but still.

i hesitate……… before leaping to my feet, and bolting across the fucking arena. i am dodging security personnel who want to direct me to the closest toilet, ducking past arena workers who are tryna get me to go buy another $12 pita. i’m the fastest goddamn thing this arena has ever seen. i’ve got my eyes on a blonde in a leopard print dress, and i aint letting her go. footy players, whomst????

i’m about half way there and she’s answered a phone call, so i slow down. i am a lion, a cheetah, some kind of other big cat. i wont be denied. i am a thief in the night.

you can sense the level of power walking that i was involved in while taking this photo, can’t you. you can. i would like to remind you all i am six beers deep at this point; that i didn’t have a stitch is a fucking miracle

anyway i slow down, cause, like, she’s on the phone. im casual now; cool, calm, collected. other adjectives beginning with c. i am all of them. crazy? yes.

she’s off the phone, i speed up again. i’m playing this slick, like what? no i didn’t just vault my way across the arena to get to you! this is happenstance! coincidence! (i love you)

i draw up level and go: “… oh my god, i’m sorry, are you sarina?” i planned this the entire way across. im a conversational genius. bow down before me. sarina blinks at me, grins and goes, “yeah, yeah, love that’s me.”

hi im on the floor and i dont know how i got here.

“oh my goodness! i follow you on instagram!”

“oh wow! hi, it’s lovely to meet you!”

“you too! i love your presence on instagram, it’s so positive! really brightens my day when i see your posts and stories.”

“that’s so nice of you. you look gorgeous! is this your first time seeing the show?”

“yeah! first time seeing them at all.”

“you’re going to love it, it’s so much fun.”

“oh, i know! i’ve been looking forward to this for months. i’m sorry, but would you mind if i got a pic with you?”

“no, of course not! my friend can take it”

natalia took the photo – i am bricking it. the photos are just me like OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING WHERE AM I SOMEONE BRING ME THE SMELLING SALTS. look at this face. this is the face of someone who is in a kind of fugue state.

and then i took my phone back from natalia and sarina introduced us, so i shook natalia’s hand and then i was like i’m sorry that i disturbed you guys, i’ll let you go and sarina was like “no, no, it’s fine! what’s your name, love?” and i told her and she was like “where are you sitting?” and i told her and then i sort of panicked? and was like “I SHOULD REALLY LET YOU GO” and she laughed (kill me, she’s so gorgeous) and was like “ok, it was so nice to meet you! enjoy the show!” and i was like “thank you!!!!!!!!!!” and then i walk/ran away

and like i was trembling so hard i didn’t stop for a good half an hour and then the bloody show started and off i went again! and she liked the pic on insta, cause my mom posted it and and and.

hi my name is lo aka sarinataylor and i adore sarina taylor she was just so lovely. also she is tiny and i look like a giant next to her. i am deceased. this is all i will talk about for the rest of my life.

[assless-chapstick]

Not feeling my best friend ngl so I’m turning to you with an ask for help! Your content is awesome and never fails to cheer me up so, here goes. Soft Javier n John?? Anything you like, have fun with it but, I’m a real sucker for how you write the Couch Au Javier- his relationship with John is 👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼 pls, I beg u

Aw hell, feller, I’m sorry!! It seems I was a little late on the draw with this one… well, better late than never I suppose! And I may be a lil rusty, but I’ll give'er a go!!

Javier is kind of a sap, that much we already know. A real romantic, and that’s what he’s comfortable with. He’s dating John, but he’s never been with a dude before, and he comfortable romancing women, so that’s how he treats John. But they straddle this unique line of like, almost heteronormative romance and bromance with benefits, and its unique and comfortable and cute…

Like, Javi will do things like show up at John’s track practice right as it’s ending with John’s favourite smoothie and a peanut butter and banana sandwich cuz he knows John gets hangry after practice. (one time Javi snuck into the locker room and fucked John in the shower stall, quick n dirty, before he’d even showered, before he even got his tiny lil running shorts off…)

In public, they’re not super affectionate, not the way they are in private… not because Javi is ashamed or afraid to be out, but because John isn’t really into PDA unless it’s gross overtly sexual horndog shit. Like, makeout with his boyfriend at a party as Javi tugs at his waistband just enough to show the onlookers John’s hot pink panties? Sure, no problem. Hug one another at the airport when Javi goes to Mexico to visit his abuela? Ok yeah, he’s working on it, but he’s awkward as shit about it. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable.

But in private? In private, where Javi calls him Yonny and flaquita and My Girl, and where John feels safe enough to be seen in just a sweatshirt and his dumb leopard-print boxers, where he can put his hair up and Javi will call him pretty in spite of the scars? Then, John has no problem lying with his head in Javi’s lap as they watch a movie, or curling up against Javi’s side as he studies (John doesn’t sleep well, but it’s easy for him to nod off if Javi is around.

On nights in, they just hang out and relax. Javi didn’t realize it til they started dating, but John has that soft side he doesn’t let show. He’s not all leather and heavy metal and tongue piercings, he’s also scrunchies and comfy slippers and Dixie Chicks on CD. He’s blushing when Javi calls him pretty, shy when Javi buys him panties to wear, quiet when Javi plays old folk tunes on his guitar.

They make dinner together – Javi mostly, cuz John can only really make spaghetti without fucking it up – and curl up on the couch and watch The Circle on Netflix, and Javi goads John into letting him paint John’s toenails (that gets them both hard, but for different reasons). Javi’s not strong enough to carry John (who’s maybe 3 inches taller than Javi) to bed, so instead they just make love on the couch by the light of the TV, and Javi whispers sweet things in John’s ear… John covers his face and blushes and groans at how cheesy it is, what a sap Javi is, but also at how good it feels to have Javi fucking him slow n sweet, sucking on his neck and telling him what a good girl he is…

But Javi of course is also a bit of a fuckboy, and now that he’s dating someone so openly kinky, he leans into it hard (not that John minds). He buys John panties, flatters him into wearing them so he can make John cum in the cotton and lace, then take em home so he can sniff em as he jerks off.

When Javi is in Mexico, John feels wrung out n sucked dry cuz every day, Javi will call him up n it always, always turns to phonesex, Javi coaxing John like “just wanna hear one more baby, I can’t do it, can’t cum until I hear you get off one more time…” by the time Javi gets back John’s dick is chafed and he’s chronically dehydrated from all the cum he’s spilled for Javi… at least, that’s what he says, but when Javi starts kissing on his neck, John figures he’s for maybe one more left in him…

Anyway, hope that was alright for ya, and that it weren’t too late! Thanks for the ask, mister!!

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 27)

"What Did I Do....."

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

Luna still can't sleep. She gets up, deciding to work on the song that's been rolling around in her head.

🎶Feared life//Feared love//Thought I was fresh//Outta fucks forever//But//I'm trying to start over//With you🎶

Luna finishes the song before grabbing one of her grandmother's larger acoustic guitars and sliding on a pair of sunglasses to cover her ugly cry face. She then records, posts and sends the link to Colson. She misses him and hates that he's not picking up. Her heart hurts as she finally falls asleep.

-------------------------------------------------

Colson's still partying back in LA. Even though Luna keeps calling, he continues to dick her calls. He's so fucked up, he doesn't even know why anymore.

------------------------------------------------

Luna wakes up still feeling exhausted. She tries to call Colson again. It actually rings all the way through this time before hitting voicemail.

She gets up and showered. Throwing on a leopard print cardigan to hide her gunshot wound from her grandmother.

In the kitchen, Opie and Jackson are sitting with her Mom-mom, laughing, joking, catching up. Luna joins them. Her grandmother can tell something's off. Luna tells her she's just tired. Pat knows she's lying but doesn't push her.

"Are you all flying back today?" Pat asks them as Happy joins them.

"Mom-mom, they can't fly, they're felons." Luna tells her.

"Well technically, we can fly. Our PO's just can't know about it." Happy corrects her. Luna rolls her eyes laughing with everyone else.

"Want me to see if Joni will let you borrow the jet?" Luna's Mom-Mom asks her. Luna sighs. She doesn't want to but agrees because it's the safest way to get the guys home. Considering what they did for her, it's the least she can do.

-----------------------------------------------

Colson wakes up, head pounding not knowing where he is.

"Pants are still on. That's a good thing." He thinks.

"Where the fuck am I?" He sits up holding his head.

"My place, Dick." Ashleigh says kicking him hard on the foot. "And you better not wake the fucking baby up." She threatens.

"What am I doing here?" He asks.

"I don't know what you did last night. I got a call from Benji over at Sound around 4A, saying if I didn't come get you, they were calling the police. By time I got there you were beyond wasted, Kells. Some girl all over you." She's not amused.

"Did you see me hook up with her?" He asks, filled with fear.

"No, but you were trying to drag her into my car, like she was coming with." Ashleigh says sternly. "I don't know what's going on with you and Luna, Kells. You wouldn't say, But she's gonna snap when she finds out about last night. And, she called this morning."

"She did!?" Colson grabs his phone. He has 5 missed calls from Luna and 2 texts. He walks outside to sit on the deck and smoke a joint. He opens the texts before calling her. He's slightly terrified. There's one asking him to please call, then another with a link to her YouTube channel. He suddenly remembers she doesn't have an IG and is extremely thankful. He checks his, trying to recollect last night. There's nothing. He thinks about calling Mod but wants to see what she posted first. He opens the link and clicks on the video. It's titled Brooklyn Bitch and it's her playing an acoustic guitar big enough to hide her body. She's naked except for a pair of sunglasses, he's pretty sure. And something on her left shoulder, that he can't make out. She starts off strumming the G chord.

🎶Feared life🎶Feared love🎶Thought I was fresh outta fucks forever🎶Trying to🎶Start over with you🎶

Looking into the camera, she continues singing.

🎶A Machine🎶His Scene Queen🎶Tattoo skins covered in leather🎶When I dream🎶It's of us two🎶

Flipping between G and F now, she continues her voice dripping. He's hitting the joint.

🎶Oh, Bunny, I miss you on my lips🎶It's me, Your little Brooklyn Bitch🎶Hanging out with the neighborhood kids... Shouting out Bang! Bang! Kiss! Kiss!🎶

Strumming into C7 and F, she floats over the melody. Still smoking, he's mesmerized by Luna.

🎶We're in the yard🎶The joints on fire🎶And as the day begins to slip away🎶All that glitters somehow stays🎶I'll write, you'll tour, we'll make it work🎶You're beautiful and I'm insane🎶We're American made🎶

She's back to G, starting the same chord structure over again.

🎶Don't need🎶A Hallmark🎶Just want You as My Lover🎶Twist Norman Rockwell 🎶To fit our punk view🎶You&Me🎶Obscene🎶No one and nothing matters🎶Except all the Bad Things, we do🎶Oh, Bunny, I need you on my lips🎶It's me, Your little Brooklyn Bitch🎶Hanging out with the neighborhood kids... Calling out Bang! Bang! Kiss! Kiss🎶We're in the yard🎶The joints on fire🎶And as the day begins to slip away🎶All that glitters somehow stays🎶I'll write, you'll tour, we'll make it work🎶You're beautiful and I'm insane🎶We're American made🎶

She hums changing the chords to Em F Am

🎶If you weren't mine🎶I'd be jealous of your love🎶If you weren't mine🎶I'd be jealous of your love🎶If you weren't mine🎶I'd be jealous of your love🎶 She smoothly fades out. Looking over her sunglasses and smiling at him before shutting off the camera.

"FUUUUCCK...." What did I do? Colson worries. His heart dropping. He calls Mod immediately.

-------------------------------------------------

Luna's flying back to LA. She doesn't know fucking why. She hasn't talked to Colson since she walked out on him yesterday morning. Her shoulders killing her. She looks around, it seems everyone's knocked. She pops a 30 and sparks a joint. The smell draws Jackson out. He uses it as an excuse to sit beside her as she side eyes him.

"I'm sorry." He says when she finally passes him the joint. "I just thought, when you were ready, you would want me."

She sighs, watching him hit it. "It's the same thing you did to me with Tara..." She starts to explain.

"Is that what THIS is about?" He interrupts her.

"Jesus Fuck, Jax. NO. Can you listen?" She takes the joint from him as punishment, hitting it hard. He's silent. "Like I was trying to say, there's no doubt in my mind that you loved me Jax, or even still do love me. There's also no doubt in my mind that you didn't plan to meet and fall in love with Tara, while I was gone either." She shrugs, wincing, hitting the joint again before handing it back. "It's the same thing with Colson. I didn't plan to meet and fall in love with him either." She looks into his sad eyes. "I'm sorry. Bad timing."

"Yeah." He says, giving her the joint and going back to his seat.

She hits the joint again, feeling the perc kick in. "I fucking hate dudes." She thinks to herself, sliding her sunglasses on.

--------------------------------------------

Colson talks to Mod. "Nah, Dawg!! You were funny as hell last night... Share all the drugs, the drinks, dance with all the bitches but anytime one of 'em tried to push up on you, your big ass hand said 'No, Bitch!' You were palm smashing bitches like the incredible Hulk." Mod laughs loudly.

"So, I didn't hook up with anyone?" Colson asks, confused. "Why wouldn't I speak to Loons?"

"Because you was pissed she was wit her ex, Kid." Mod tells him matter of fact.

"Ah. Good shit..." Colson sighs, relieved but still upset with himself.

They talk a bit more about the wild night before, bits and pieces coming back to Colson.

After he hangs up. He tells Ashleigh he's in the clear. She lectures him about about being close to the limit. He agrees with her for one of the first times ever. Catching an uber home he Snaps Luna. He doesn't even know where she is.

--------------------------------------------

To be continued.....

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - ventisei

Again, Elana helped me so much with this, thank you endlessly. It’s a big one, so I really hope it does not disappoint x

- chapter navigation -

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Unfortunately, Turner's words turned out to hold mostly the truth, his prediction fulfilled as Jade spent the rest of the day working with the Serena and Kane, saw Turner merely in passing that evening, hardly over the course of the following day at all, only when she was heading back to her suite coming back from the shooting range did Cook stop in front of Turner's office, told her that he wanted to see her and her heart leapt with anticipation, although she had not dared to get her hopes up out of fear of disappointment.

When she stepped inside and Cook closed the door behind her, Turner stood in front of his desk,  buttoning his shirt up all the way, fumbling with his tie and this time she didn't hesitate, out of instinct took the remaining steps to minimize their distance without second thought and reached to replace his hands with her own, doing up the tie in no time and she watched his fingers tense and stretch at first, then he allowed to let it happen, his hands instead coming down slowly on her hips, guiding her forward and he stepped back to lean against the edge of his desk, kept her stood between his legs.

She sensed that she'd initially broken her own rule of getting her hopes up, because she couldn't help but be disappointed by the fact that it seemed he was going to another job, had merely called her in to have a word and a painful thought shot through her head, her body tensing, yet her mind was soothed instantly by how at ease he seemed, but the mere inkling of the possibility arising that she wouldn't get what she wanted had her defensive nonetheless.

“What is it?” She asked, her tone more forward, more challenging than she'd intended. “Do you have more work for me?” She was praying that it was just that.

A half-smile played around his lips and he shook his head slightly. “Jade” he drawled, his tongue drawing along his bottom lip slowly. “Just wanted teh talk t'yeh 'bout tomorrow.”

She swallowed, her hands slowly smoothing down his tie to calm herself down as she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Yes, Alexander?”

“Dun't worreh” he said, unable to suppress the satisfied smirk spreading across his face. “I 'ave not changed me mind.”

She breathed out, an immense weight lifted from her heart, the relief overshadowing the embarrassment of how easy he'd figured her out and she raised her eyebrows expectantly, as if to gloss over his promise like it didn't faze her, waiting for the real reason of their encounter.

“I'm workin' durin' the deh but yeh've got the deh off. Yeh can do as yeh wish, but I 'ad summat I wanted yeh teh do-...” He pursed his lips.

She sucked in a sharp breath, cutting him off. “You fucking contradictory-...”

“Jade” he snapped, the roll of his eyes almost embarrassing her further. “Fookin' 'ear meh out, will yeh? I want yeh teh get yehrself a nice new dress. Mi wanted teh spend time wif yeh so 'e's gunna take yeh.” He smiled at the way the realisation had grown on her flawless features and replaced the frozen expression of disbelief. “Is tha' alreyht?” He asked, smug, teasing.

She swallowed, pressing her lips together, her hands moving flat against his chest and she smoothed down the jacket of his dark grey suit. “I suppose” she said, nodding slowly.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Alreyht” he said. “Bene.”

She sighed, stepping back as she slowly began to snap out of it, trying desperately to hide her excitement now to not give him the satisfaction after once again making a complete fool of herself. “W-Where are you going?” She asked, watching him push himself off the desk, closing two buttons of his jacket.

“Joost a meetin'” he shrugged, looking back at her with his eyebrows raised. “It dun't concern yeh, doll, I've got it under control.”

She sucked in a breath. “Someone tried to kill you yesterday.”

His face remained unimpressed and he sighed. “Tha' weren't the first time, were it? It were sum of the people I angered in San Marino, they sent...” He paused. “It dun't matter.”

“I'm worried” she stated, surprised by her own words as soon as they rushed out.

Turner swallowed, taking a breath. He was surprised by the way she told him now, sincere and outright direct, like she wasn't ashamed to admit, but he was in no state of mind to process what that meant, pressing his lips together as he looked back at her, then walked towards her again. “Dun't beh” he stated. “There's nofin' teh worreh 'bout.”

She was about to challenge him again when she was cut off by his lips pressed to hers, the kiss quick, yet never lacking in intensity, heat and promises, his arm snaking around her waist to press her body against his, moving his lips hungrily with hers, eager for something, because while he didn't want to admit, he knew that especially at the moment, any job was risky, and he needed her to ease the reality of that for him for just a moment, having all along hoped for a quiet moment to just kiss her in passing, reignite that feeling of power inside him, of being strong, of being desired, and the way she looked at him when he drew back, lips parted, eyes wide with lust, it did everything he needed for him, and it took all his strength to tear his gaze from her and step away, heading for the door.

Few things had frustrated her the way his kiss did, reduced her to her usual nightly routines, yet recharged the next morning because Kane's opinion of early mornings was as high as her own, and he picked her up fairly late, Cook and another henchman accompanying them as they made their way downtown, the day promising heat and excitement and while Jade had always enjoyed her birthday more than any other day of the year, this felt out of this world entirely, Kane taking her to a café, focused on her and her alone, be it with questions or compliments – only having his own interest in mind once when convincing her to as a present allow him to buy her a pair of leopard print heels – her confidence sky high as she returned to her suite with the gold bag in her hand that contained one of the most expensive dresses she'd ever owned.

She took her time getting ready, pampering herself with a long and thorough shower, layering smooth and richly-scented moisturizer over her skin and selecting the perfect shade of ruby red for her lips to complement the metallic indigo dress. She adjusted the deep plunge neck that barely covered any of her chest, the small curvy straps just above her elbow, running her hands down the solid, well-structured material, it was tight on her body, thick and shiny and definitely unsuitable for work, felt expensive, a reminder that it was something only Turner could have funded.

Her black stilettos clicked on the ground, she felt her legs were more shaky than usual, but she'd also never felt more confident than in the moment the doors of the lift opened and she stepped into the entrance hall, Cook shadowing her every move still, but she forgot about every other person in the vicinity when she laid eyes on Turner waiting for her by the doors, once again exceeding all her expectations. His sheeny blue suit was well-tailored and didn't require a belt. His shirt looked soft, a satin mustard colour, tucked perfectly into his trousers, white buttons,  the collar draped neatly over the jacket drawing particular attention to his slender neck which didn't help the pressing need she still had to mark it, bruise it, feel his heart rate increase. His hair was slicked back, drew attention to his window's peak and she noticed it looked tidier, suggested he might have had it trimmed, his face on full display, the crispness of his jaw matching his tight suit that defined his body in a way that had her already undressing him with her eyes as she approached him. His chain made her want to draw him close instantly, the rings on his fingers had her eyes almost roll back at the recollection. Even the glow his skin radiated had her desperate, his nose crinkling slightly and the perfect blend of cigarette smoke and spicy cologne clouded her mind and she couldn't ignore the fact that whilst his perfection was usually effortless, it was clear he'd actually made an effort to exceed her expectations tonight, whether he wanted her to know that or not.

Before he knew, Alex caught himself licking his lips, the way she looked as she strode towards him made his hand itch to cancel all the plans, take her back to his apartment and fuck her, hard and fast and until neither of them could move, his gaze wandering from her effortless strut to her the flawless features of her face, her make up accentuating her perfection as well as the impeccable combination of pure elegance and seduction that was her dress and he felt a sense of pride swell inside him, because he'd made it happen after all, his eyes fiery and full of lust as he stared right back into hers, the hint of a smile on her plushy lips hindered his speech, set him back several seconds before he could form any sort of expression, he couldn't help the surge of possessiveness he felt instantly, put at ease only when he held his hand out for her and she took it slowly, the intensity of his gaze locked on hers when he lifted their hands to his lips, pressing them lightly, yet determinedly to her knuckles, her heart missing a beat, then melting when he let go.

“'appeh birfdeh, Jade.”

Without a warning, his arm snaked around her hip, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. He winked, shoving his other hand slowly into the left pocket of his trousers. “Weh're matchin'.” His voice was deep, the one playful and suggestive nonetheless and he led her towards the doors, his hand never leaving her hip.

She pressed her lips together, amused because the look in his big brown eyes suggested he had much more to say about the way she looked, but she remained satisfied with the silent acknowledgement for the moment, suppressed another reaction when he gave Cook a look and opened the door for her himself, sitting closer to her than he usually would in the backseat.

He cleared his throat as they drove into the streets, his eyes never having left her. “I guess yeh're aware of 'ow good yeh look.”

She toyed with a sly smile, licking her lips. “I am” she stated proudly, pleased with herself that she'd actually rendered him speechless. “But yo-...”

“Jade” he said, cutting her off and sighing heavily. “Fookin' let meh finish me-...”

She licked her lips, unable to help herself. “I always let you finish, Alexander.”

He swallowed hard, kept a straight face to not give her the satisfaction, despite the smile that was aching to form on his lips and he bit his lip. “Doll. Please. Let meh fookin' compliment yeh, alreyht?”

She was about to challenge him again, but settled for enjoying the way his eyes scanned her body, wandered up and down several times before settling on her face once more.

The way her neck and shoulders were bare and exposed to him was so inviting, as if she begged for his tight grip and the bite of his teeth, her eyes shiny and excited as she waited for him to speak. “Yeh look fookin' stunnin' tonight.”

She reveled in the way his eyes drank her in, how the words rolled off his tongue so seductively, she couldn't get enough. “Just tonight?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

“Fookin'ell, pupa...” he drawled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Got teh talk back teh meh even when I'm complimentin' yeh.”

She hummed. “I don't know what you were expecting.”

He shrugged, chuckling. “Fook knows. Never know wha' teh expect wif yeh, do I?”

“Alexander” she smiled. “I'm not as complicated as you make me out to be.”  

Entering Venere at Alex's side was like stepping into a daydream too wild even for her. It carried the charm and charisma that he himself radiated with his every move. The floors were marble, the tables black and rose gold, a sea of a million tiny lights on the high ceiling dipping the whole place into a space-like glow, a venus sculpture by the far end of the door that led to the kitchen, the view visible through the glass walls a breathtaking panorama of the Napule's skyline, the sun setting over the far horizon, glimpses of the ocean peaking through a spectacle in itself.

His shiny black shoes clicked on the floor next to hers, heads turning from staff and guests, one waiter stepping forward to accompany them to the table that Turner was already headed for, it was perfectly secluded, yet offered a view of the restaurant and the extravagance the city offered outside, Turner drawing the chair back for her while the waiter did his, Alex's eyes hanging on to her every move, how taken aback and fascinated she was.

Jade was bathing in the attention they received, unable to believe that she was on top of the world, yet aware that she deserved it, taking it all in until the deep drawl of his voice snapped her out of it. “I'm joost gunna lay down a rule.”

Her eyes widened, her head snapping to look at him. “Turner, for fu-...”

He shook his head, lifting his hand slightly. “Just one.”

She sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, the dress hanging so dangerously low that it threatened to expose her to him entirely as she waited impatiently for his rule, already excited to break it.

“Yeh're not gunna tempt meh, alreyht? Weh're gunna 'ave a pleasant dinner, and weh're not gunna talk about sex.”

Her eyes widened, her elbow coming down on the table and she rested her cheek against the palm of her hand. “We are not?”

He chuckled at her disbelief, the way she blinked. “No.”

She sighed dramatically, following the way his hand moved to snap for the waiter who instantly stepped up to their table.

“Good evenin'” Turner drawled absently. “Weh're gunna 'ave the Château Mouton. The one tha' came in from Bordeaux last night.”

The waiter nodded. “The Rothschild, Mr. Turner?”

He nodded, furrowing his brows for a moment, his face scrunched up with concentration, then he focused again. “And for appetizers I want the salt-roasted shrimp. Then the squid ravioli wif mussels cacio and white seabass fillet in fish soup.” He glanced over to Jade, unflinching when he continued speaking. “And sheh'll 'ave the grilled shrimp wif oregano and lemon for a start, then the swordfish piccata. Wif extra trouffle.”

Jade leaned back, raising her eyebrow questioningly. “Will I?”

There was that spark of distinctive mischief in his eyes and he winked. “Trust meh” he said, his attention on her swaying for a moment as he turned to the waiter again. “Oh, and bring us the fritto misto wif fennel and lemons too” he added, then with a wave sending the waiter off, eyes fixated on her again. “Yeh'll like it. It's like nofin' yeh've ever tasted.”

She licked her lips, leaning closer over the table. “Really?” She asked. “Because I've had it loads of times, my mum used to make something similar.”

His eyes widened, then he began shaking his head, sucking in a breath. “No” he said. “No, no, I 'ad our chef brought in from Roma. He's fookin' sensational, makes simple dishes fookin' phenomenal. Yeh're gunna beh transported .”

She bit her lip, found his excitement as endearing as it was unexpected, tilting her head to watch him closely. “Alright then” she smirked.

“And dun't worreh, weh're gunna 'ave sum good Camus Cuvée in between courses.”

She tensed, swallowing hard, yet tried her hardest to contain her excitement at the prospect of more luxurious spirits, nodding and trying to seem unimpressed, but she could tell he'd caught on to her own excitement now, her silent anticipation difficult to hide.

Alex chuckled, sensing his chance to inquire more about her. “Yehr mamma then” he said slowly. “D'yeh miss 'er?”

She shrugged. “Haven't seen her in a while” she said, instantly wishing the wine was already on the table to distract her, allow her something other to do than to stare at his eyes, because his gaze was too intense, she had his full attention and while it was exactly what she craved, it was unnerving at the same time as she realised what it meant, especially now.

“For 'ow long?” He asked, not ready for her to stop there.

She licked her lips. “Almost five years” she stated. She hadn't thought about her family much ever since she'd left home, had been determined to not look back once her decision had been set.

“Yehr famileh dun't live 'ere.”

Jade shook her head. “No, they still live on the outskirts of Palermu. I moved away when I was twenty and never looked back. I was always able to support myself from the moment I got here.”

“Tha' 'ow long yeh've been dancin' for?” He asked, his eyes widening, he was more interested than he'd first expected, every new detail she shared that he wasn't already aware of welcome, he wanted to have her all figured out desperately, hungry for more.

“Well, that and I was waiting tables for like a few months. But then someone offered me a job dancing. That's how I got into escorting, it was just part of the job description for girls who worked at the club for a certain amount of time. Then I stopped and worked at several other clubs just dancing.” She could slowly sense the shift on his face, it wasn't necessarily judgement, rather a sense of understanding, possible sympathy. “I love it though. I love dancing” she added. “And I loved … I mean, for the most part I liked escorting as well. It was good money, but it was fun as well.”

Turner nodded slowly, relief, and a hint of admiration now spreading across his face. He was eager to find out more, yet tried hard to place another question, although didn't want to seem too invasive, like he wanted to know too much, pursing his lips before posing his next question, determined to not drag her down in any way either, it would restrict him from more information. “Where d'yeh see yehrself in the next five years then?”

She huffed, a smile instantly apparent on her face, his question doing the trick. “Really?” She laughed.

“Wha'?” He chuckled, his heart leaping at the genuine expression of amusement on her face. “Ain't tha' wha' people ask on dates?”

She smirked. “Have you never been on one?” She teased, her triumphant smile heartbreaking.

“Well, not in a while...” he shrugged. “Not since-...”

She nodded. “Right. Well, hopefully still doing what I love.”

Alex nodded along, licking along his bottom lip.

“Do I get to ask you something too?” She wondered, raising her eyebrows.

He swallowed, knowing it was a dangerous game to allow it, but it was only fair, and productive if he didn't want her to close off. “Alreyht.”

“What's your weakness, Turner?”

The question came unexpected, made his poise falter and he cleared his throat, attempted to win some time to think of a response that appeared quick-witted, yet he had nothing to offer but the truth. “Fookin' … well, at the moment 's you, doll.”

She smiled, having expected the answer, just needed to hear it and there was a genuine smile of satisfaction that made him despise and adore her at the same time. “Are you going to tell me something I don't know yet, Turner?”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, hardly glancing up at the waiter placing down two wine glasses in front of them, pouring the luxurious liquid, then stepping away to leave them in the intimacy of each other's company alone. “If yeh ask meh summat yeh dun't yet kno' the answer teh.”

“Right” she smiled. “Tell me what you like to do then” she said. “Outside of work, outside of everything, you're working for a reason, what's the thing that makes it worth it?” It was something she'd been wondering for a while, but only now felt safe enough to ask, like she had the chance of an actual genuine response.

“Well, tha knows I like teh joost sit and play sum cards, gamble, poker 'n tha'...” He realised now that he really didn't have that much to share, wondering if she'd get bored if she wasn't the picturebook version of himself she'd conjured up in her fantasies, but he didn't plan on lying to her straight out. “Like teh drive...”

Her eyes sparked with curiosity, she couldn't help herself interrupting him, his narrative offering something she hadn't even thought about with her question, but nevertheless a mystery she'd meant to solve. “What do you drive?” She asked, instantly knowing what he meant.

Alex chuckled, his excitement equal to hers. “Well, me favourite ride I've got's a Bugatteh Chiron.”

Her lips parted slightly, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from begging him to drive it, because he probably wouldn't let her, and she didn't want to show just how desperate she was, yet once again, her excitement was written plainly and obviously across her face, and he loved it. “The matte black one. 's me babeh.”

It did the trick, impressed her the way he seeked to, yet sparked a surge of jealousy inside her with the nickname, shaking her head at how ridiculous her thoughts ran, quickly changing the subject as she worried it was obvious to read on her face. “So, do you not like the Candy Kane then?” She asked, sipping on her drink.

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling, then mimicking her movement. “Wha' do yeh mean?” He asked. “I made it.”

“You what?” She laughed.

“Mixed it togefer wif wha' I kno' Mi likes. 'e named it though, so I could put it on the menus.” He sipped on his wine again. “Yeh dun't like it” he said, a statement rather than a question. “I can 'andle yehr criticism.”

She laughed. “It's just a bit … sweet.”

He clutched his hand over his heart dramatically for a moment, then moved to lean back in his chair lazily.

“Are you going to name one after me too then? With what you think I like?”

He shrugged. “I could” he said nonchalantly, yet in his mind he was already coming up with the basis for her signature drink, the excitement plastered on his face, contradicting his words and his tone, it was strange for her to see the emotions washing over his face, going quickly as they came, but it was fascinating all the same, and she ached for more. “I kno' wha' yeh like.”

The waiter returned with their appetizers, setting their plates down, then filling up their wine glasses before once again excusing himself. Turner's face lit up at the sight of the food, a glint of anticipation in his eyes and he wiggled his eyebrows at Jade when she looked back at him, her eyes equally as wide as the steam rose from her plate, the delightful smell suggesting an equally as delightful taste. He could tell she was already impressed, thriving off every facial expression her gorgeous features offered.

“It looks good, dunnit?” He pushed, smirking. “Admit it, doll.”

She licked her lips, took a sip of wine before picking up her fork. She had been sceptical about him ordering for her, didn't want him to patronize her that way but when she gathered up some of the food onto her fork and tasted it, it required her utmost self-control to not give in and allow her face to reflect just how much she enjoyed it, unfortunately, just how right he'd been.

But of course it didn't escape him, her facial expression offering even more joy and entertainment than the delicacy on his own plate in front of him, the satisfied smirk she'd feared playing around his lips, growing wider, smug, and cocky, and everything she hated. “And?”

She nodded slowly, took another fork full of food to keep herself from being able to speak, offering merely a hum of approval while she chewed slowly on the exquisite taste, it was like nothing she'd ever had.

Turner chuckled, swallowing. “I want teh 'ear yeh say it.”

Jade sighed, composed herself to not roll her eyes at him, couldn't stand his need for unshared dominance even now, yet couldn't help but feel drawn to him for that reason precisely. Given the circumstances, she decided to cave, as much as she hated to admit, he had chosen something she enjoyed immensely, had taken a gamble after all, and once again impressed her. “Okay, Turner” she admitted, although insisted on not bouncing back all the way, unable to resist the temptation and she pushed her bottom lip forward, her face forming the most sultry smile she could muster, her eyes staring right back into his and she lowered her voice. “You know exactly what I like.”

He exhaled shakily, giving a slight shake of his head, but forcing himself not to correct her, she hadn't talked about sex after all, had not broken his rule, and he knew that if he acknowledged it, he would've given her exactly what she wanted by admitting the effect she had on him. He cleared his throat. “What else do yeh like, doll?”

She smiled, swallowing another bite and licking her lips. She'd already shared quite a few things with him that she never thought she'd share with anybody, let alone Alexander Turner, and she wondered how much of it he'd already found out when he'd first had her background checked, and how much he actually wanted to know. “Shoes?”

Turner raised an eyebrow at her, having hoped for something more profound, but he noticed her leaning back, suddenly closing up again. “Shoes?” He asked, his tone teasing, yet free of any mockery or condescension. “Is tha' why yeh're 'ere then? Gettin' tha' dress from meh were reyht up yehr street then” he joked.

“You know I have my own money, right?” She asked.

Her tone was cold, he kept his eyes down to drown out the panic in them, not liking the tension that had become so unfamiliar between them by now, but he wasn't going to be the one that broke it, looking right back at her, his gaze harder, jaw tense. “Of course I kno' tha'. I kno' wha' I pay me dancers. And escorts.”

She nodded slowly, washing the last bite of her appetizer down with the rich red wine in her glass. She could sense that her shift had bothered him. “I just like nice things” she said. “Always have.”

His mood perked up, his eyes widening as she offered more of an insight again, a rush of relief running through his veins, his fingers resting on the table top relaxing visibly as he nodded in agreeement. “And did yeh alwehs 'ave nice fings growin' up?”

“No” she said, shrugging. “Well … not as nice and as many as I would have liked. I'm an only child, but I still wanted more. I thought I'd have to become famous to be able to afford it all. But it turned out, you can combine business with pleasure perfectly and stay true to yourself at the same time, while making a lot of money.”

He watched her closely, hung on to her every word. “Yeh've mastered tha', have yeh?” He asked, his voice sounding more awestruck than he would have liked, but he wasn't able to help himself. She'd cast a spell on him that he couldn't break, and he wasn't certain he even wanted to.

She smiled complacently, shaking her head to move her hair back, once again drawing attention to her bare neck and shoulders, tempting him to no avail. “I like to think so” she stated, taking another sip of wine. “I used to want to be an actress though. Would dress up in my mother's expensive clothes and recite Cinema Paradiso lines.” She didn't know what had suddenly prompted her to share so much, she wanted to blame the wine, but it was more likely that it was the way he was looking at her, like he really was listening, wanted to know everything she was willing to share.

“Tha' were Serena's favourite moveh growin' up as well” he said, nodding.

“Are you going to tell me something about that?” She asked hopefully, although now cautious to not overstep a boundary of her own.

“About wha'?” Turner questioned, taking another sip of his wine, licking it from his lips.

“Growing up. I bet you had all the nice things.”

He chuckled, could sense the twinge of jealousy that sparked her tone. “Pretteh mooch. We was ungrateful at times, tried teh run off one time even.” He smiled to himself at the memory, before he knew better than to remind himself of a reason why him and his family were the only one that knew about it, he found himself continuing. “Weh thought weh could joost run and take off.  I fought I were in luv wif 'er and could take 'er aweh teh sum fanceh destination sheh 'adn't been. Tried teh kiss 'er even. Were so crushed tha' I ran off and were back 'ome two hours later because I were cold and 'ad eaten all me food.” He swallowed. “Sheh weren't far behind.”

She sat frozen, watched him, had never heard him talk that much all in one go and before she could make a comment, remark on how freely he was now speaking to her, maybe even tease him, the waiter brought their main courses, placing the additional dish in the middle.

Alexander wasted no time picking up his fork this time. “Buon appetito” he drawled, an effortless smile back on his face as he discarded his story.

“Buon appetito” she mumbled, the dish in front of her already exceeding her expectations by far before she'd even tasted it and when she did, it was like an explosion of different tastes on her tongue, she couldn't put her finger on it, there was no hiding her excitement this time.

“It's fookin' exquisite, innit?” He drawled, wiggling his eyebrows. “Dun't deny it, principessa, it's joost as prideful teh admit I kno' yeh.”

She smiled, unable to resist him, his excitement contagious. “I know” she nodded. “This is … it's so classic but … there's something … I...”

“Simpliciteh is key” he declared. “Me chef makes the most simple and classic dishes inteh summat spectacular.”

“He sure does” she said as she continued to eat. “What's this then?” She gestured to the food between them.

“Oh” Turner chuckled, shrugging. “I couldn't make up me mind. And I dun't 'ave teh. Weh can share it, it's fookin' incredible.”

The third dish looked irresistible and she followed the invitation, trying some as well, humming. “This is amazing” she agreed, letting her eyes wander around the restaurant as she chewed another bite. “What possessed you to create … all this? I mean, you did, right? You didn't just buy it?” She was reciting rumours now, hoping he would bring clarity, he seemed passionate, and so far, Turner being passionate was in her eyes the hottest thing he had to offer.

His eyes lit up. “Preciseleh” he confirmed. “I got the chef, them ofer cooks, they're all fookin' brilliant. Bought this location and 'ad it all redone, wanted a bit of a night sky flair, tha knows? It kicked off … I didn't kno' it would become sooch a big fing but fookin' well-deserved, innit?”

She listened intently, nodding along. “Well-deserved indeed” she mumbled, indulging in the way he spoke, the way his lip stretched, his facial expression changed by the second, his eyes glowing the way they did when he had her begging for something, his hands as expressive as his mouth as he gestured and waved them around, pointing, demonstrating, and she couldn't help but wish that she was closer to him, wish that he'd touch her.

“I picked tha' too” he said, nodding to the grand piano at the other end of the room, snapping her out of her wet daydreams. “Gorgeous, innit?”

“Do you play?” She asked as she looked at the elegant man sat behind the keys, the melody floating from the beautiful instrument surrounding them, carrying and conducting the small number of people that was ever-growing throughout the evening dancing, slow, immersed completely in the music.

“I do actualleh” he said, a smile playing around his lips, snapping for the waiter when he passed them, signaling to bring their cognac.

She couldn't help but smile back at the simple statement, it was unexpected, yet endearing. “And do you enjoy it or were you forced as a child?”

Turner chuckled. “Bof, if I'm honest.”

It was merely a second of her soft laughter that followed, low and sweet, and he once again felt his heart breaking.

“I 'ad this beautiful teacher from Athens, 'ad a fookin' deep crush on 'er.”

Another laugh, it was worth just continuing he realised, anything that came to mind, anything that would evoke the same kind of reaction that had his knees weaker than ever. “I've always wanted to go to Athens” she said absently, still focused on the way his face moved, his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes fluttering shut slightly every time he put more food into his mouth.

“I'll take yeh” he shrugged absently, still too focused on her laugh to be held responsible for the promises that flew nonchalantly off his lips. Anything to make her happy, but when that realisation dawned on him, he turned around, begging silently that the waiter would distract her with the choice of cognac, breathing out with relief as he was right on queue.

Although his quiet promise didn't escape her, she once again knew better than to explore it, she was content with just knowing, remembering, certain she would never forget, but his distraction worked well nonetheless, the bottle the waiter placed on the table and poured from into small cognac glasses had her speechless. She'd thought she'd misheard him, had surely just blurred her wishful thinking into his words but there it stood, one of the most desired bottles her father had told her about.

“N-No...” she stammered, biting her lip with how helpless she sounded, like a child allowed a colourful helium balloon for the first time.

“No?” Turner asked, his eyebrow ascending in disbelief, worried as well as confused. “Wha'?”

“No, I mean-...” She took a breath. “Fucking hell, Turner. You've already got me into bed.”

It was his turn to laugh, the sound a quiet cackle more than anything else, but it filled her heart with a warmth she'd seldom allowed. “It's yehr birfdeh, doll” he shrugged. “I dunno anehbodeh tha' 'as appreciated sum proper spirits quite like yeh, so … I wanted teh 'ave this wif yeh.”

She was now sure he was just coaxing her, wanted something, just wanted to flatter her because there was no way he meant those words, no matter how genuine and innocent his big brown eyes looked for once. “R-Right...” she said. “Right, I … that's...” She had no indifference to cover her excitement with, and he didn't deserve anything but her genuine anticipation anyway. “Thank you” she said, a sincere smile playing around her lips as she picked up the glass, watched him do the same with a nod of acceptance, then he moved it forward to ring with hers.

“To you, pupa.”

She breathed out shakily, took a tiny sip and let the gorgeous, rich taste dew her tongue, closing her eyes. She was now truly overwhelmed, and she didn't care if he knew.

“Fook...” he muttered, capturing her attention again instantly and she opened her eyes, the look in his irresistible, their silent understanding she craved thriving. “Bloodeh gorgeous, innit?”

Jade nodded, speechless, allowing herself another taste, glad she'd already finished eating to savour it properly. “I think I've actually been transported.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, furious with himself for how much he adored her, and he tried to distract himself, looked around, then back at her with a glimmer of newfound excitement. “Are yeh readeh for dessert then?”

“Oh, Turner, don't tell me you've got a sweet tooth” she laughed, her eyebrow raised expectantly at him.

“Possibleh guilteh...” he smirked, for the first time picking up the menu at the side of the table. “I can joost never decide. There's so mooch yeh need teh try.” There was no holding him back, no trace of his mark, he'd hopelessly let his guard down, and for the moment, he did not mind, the childlike smile on his face meant entirely for her, for the excitement of what was to come, what already was behind them and most of all, her invaluable company. “I mean, there's alwehs next time but … for now weh're gunna...” His eyes wandered over the gold letters on pastel pink paper. “Well, the tiramisu is a must. Sum panettone. Oh, the fookin' panna cotta 'e makes is glorious. And the truffle chocolates. Reyht, reyht.” He looked up. “Yeh trust meh?”

She was once again overwhelmed by his excitement, the words rushing out of his mouth with no regard for their consequences or her reaction and she could simply nod, bewitched by the taste of the cognac in her glass and the way he smiled at her. “Yeah” she whispered, clearing her throat. “I trust you.”

She stayed leaned back in her seat, once again allowing her to at least process a hint of the situation she found herself in. It was surreal, and at the same time it's what she'd always wanted, chased after, it was even better than she could have imagined and yet, she craved more as she watched Turner, listened to him order their desserts, the sparkle in his eyes testament to how much he'd changed his behaviour around her, how much progress she was making and she refused to be foolish from now on, to do anything that could possibly hinder this development of trust inside him as he opened up to her, it was not worth a challenge, because she craved to build the power she'd acquired, insisted and would do anything to keep it.

Without hesitation, Alex turned back to look at her and took the bottle of cognac, filling up both their glasses and pushing hers closer towards her. He could tell that for now he'd lost her attention, desperate to get it back, he wasn't ready to give up the sheer excitement that them being together in that moment had evoked inside him, desperate to make it stay, grasp the moment before it was gone because he wouldn't know how to get it back then, how to do anything different than what he'd been doing. And she shouldn't have the power to give him this sort of revelation, but somehow, she did, and with a simple smile, she snapped him right back out of it, and got more than she'd bargained for.

“Reyht” he drawled, clapping his hands, lifting his eyebrows at her. “After dessert, 'ow about sum dancin'?”

Her eyes widened, her smile freezing instantly on her face. “Have I-...” She took a breath to calm herself. “Have I not danced for you enough, Turner?” She spat.

He gasped, his eyes growing with realisation. “No, no, no...” he said, quickly shaking his head. “No, doll. Not for meh, no.” He offered a smile of his own, hesitant, yet confident that she could not possibly refuse. “Wif meh.”

Her breath shaking, she swallowed hard, needing to compose herself much more than she'd first thought, his words unexpected, and it took everything for her to remain cool, give an answer that didn't betray just how badly she wanted to say yes, just to feel him close, to get another chance to make him weak, by his own rules. “Yeah” she said, licking her lips. “Okay.”

His smug smirk was back instantly, widened into a smile when the waiter brought them three large plates of dessert. “Thaaa's wha' I'm talkin' about...” he mumbled, his spoon instantly in hand and he looked up at Jade expectantly. “Reyht, let me joost tell yeh tha' this is a recipe me famileh 'as 'ad for a vereh long time” he explained as he pointed to the panna cotta. “Yeh can try them all and then 'ave wha'ever yeh like.”

“Oh, you're passing on dessert?” She asked. While she would have found it a perfectly plausible occurrence, she now had trouble believing it.

“Well...” he cleared his throat, slowly realising how much he was letting himself go, but it was hard to keep his guard up when she looked at him with that bright intensity of green, like she burned right through the mask he'd so carefully put up. “I wanted you teh try them. I can 'ave them alwehs. 'ave them brought to me place loads.”

She raised an eyebrow as she picked up her spoon as well and popped a bit of the panna cotta in her mouth, the deep sigh of content all he needed. “What?” She asked, licking her lips appreciatively. “This place does takeout?”

Turner chuckled. “Joost for meh” he smirked. “Well, and for yeh. If yeh ever crave anehfin', tha knows? I can deny yeh maneh fings but this...” He sighed dramatically. “I'm not tha' cruel...” he winked, starting to immerse himself in the fluffy cream of the tiramisu.

Bastard.

“Turner...” she warned.

“Si?”

“You said we won't talk about that.”

A glint of mischief in his eyes, another lick of his lips to gather the chocolate. “I'm not.”

Much like her, she knew he was very much aware of what he was doing, how he reminded her of the way he could make her beg for him, cry out his name to simply allow her the pleasure he'd wanted to inflict inside her all along, how he fired images at her of his palms colliding with her red skin and she tried to distract herself with the soft sweetness of the desserts, the bliss of the memories, his extraordinary company, the exquisite food, it was perfection.

And then, he stood up and held out his hand, the glasses empty, the plates shiny, yet no match for the way Turner's eyes shone bright under the tiny lights scattered across the ceiling.

Jade's hand trembled as she took his hand, her knees weak, it required more effort to battle that feeling of weakness he'd caused than the slight buzz from the liquor as he led the way towards the grand piano, the couples dancing already moving to the side in their steps, making room for them. Jade was reveling instantly in the attention, soaked it all up to remember later, the way people were looking at her, following her around with their eyes was nothing new, but the reason excited her to no avail.

There were so many people around them, yet he only had eyes for her, his intense gaze fixed on solely her face. “What's yehr favourite song teh dance teh, pupa?”

“Morricone's Love Theme for-”

“Play Love Theme from Cinema Paradiso” he called to the pianist without taking his eyes off her, turning her around slowly, his hand coming down on her waist, then instantly wandering to her lower back the way it had when he'd caught her off guard and kissed her, pressing her body tightly against his the exact same way, her breath hitching in her throat as she realised how close he was, her hand coming down automatically on his shoulder, squeezing it as she felt him squeeze her hand.

The first few notes of the familiar song filled her ears and she moved instinctively, almost quick enough to lead, but he beat her to it, would never ever allow her leading, especially not when he'd thought about this and ached to remain complete control at least now, although the way her hips swayed, pressed to his and taking them with her, it was quite clear that control was something impossible to uphold if she continued.

His hand wandered lower, shamelessly cupped her arse, enjoying her lack of reaction immensely because he couldn't tell she wasn't surprised, welcomed it even, but she was quick to remark on it, would not allow him to get away with breaking his own rules.

“Mmmm, I thought you asked me to dance because you wanted to dance” she hummed, her lips dangerously close to his ear and it took all her strength once again to not be responsible for her own disappointment, knew that despite it all, attempting to mark him now would be her downfall, yet the way her breath tickled his skin had him almost as weak. “But you just wanted to touch me.”

He hummed, she felt the vibration in his chest, sucked in a breath, tense as she pressed herself closer to his body out of instinct, the warmth of his chest too much and she closed her eyes, relied on merely smell and touch to take her breath away.

“Well” he drawled, bringing hearing into the equation, his voice so deep, quiet, his words meant solely for her, it had her heart racing, careless that he'd feel. “It does come wif the perk of bein' realleh close.” She couldn't see him swallow but she heard, felt his skin strain, his arms flexing as he moved them. “Plus...” he licked his lips. “Can't realleh 'elp meself wif 'ow yeh look in tha' dress.”

Before she knew, his hand ran up her back slowly, loosely cupping the back of her neck to guide her head down on his shoulder, her breath shaking, her body tense. “You asked me to behave...”

Turner chuckled, the feeling vibrating against her own body and she leaned closer to him. “Well, am I tha' 'ard teh resist?” He asked, the question rolling of his tongue effortlessly, he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it, needed to hear her voice wrapped around the words.

“You have no idea...” she moaned quietly, his voice, his hands, he was doing things to her that defied his own rules and she trembled as she felt his hand at the side of her face, his knuckles grazing her cheekbone, stroking her hair behind her ear to expose her shoulder, his lips ghosting across her smooth skin, his hot breath making her shiver before his soft lips pressed against her shoulder.

The whole room had faded out of focus, it was just her, the glow of her skin, the tight dress hugging her curves, the scent of rose and just the uniqueness of her, it had him in shambles and while he felt like it was just them, pressed together, he knew that other people were staring, rightfully so, she was a dream, and he wanted everyone to see who had her.

As strange as it was dancing like this, her being so familiar with dancing, yet not like this, it felt like it was all falling into place, like their bodies once again fit together just perfectly, his lips on her skin had her almost falling against him, the way his hand moved back to her waist and gave it a squeeze that reminded her too much of the way he held her body in his hands when he was driving himself inside her, moaning, drawing obscene moans from her and evoked the kind of pleasure only he was capable of stirring within her.

She was dangerously close to breaking her own rule.

“Jade...” he rasped, mumbling against her skin.

“Y-Yes?” She asked, quietly clearing her throat, desperate for anything he was willing to give her now, she was so on edge, helpless from just a few simple touches, slowdancing with him, having him hold her body so close, so intimately, yet with such innocence.

“D'yeh want meh?”

She breathed shakily, swallowing hard. She didn't have it in her to tease him, to lie now. “I-I do. I … I've played nice all evening, Turner, will you please-...”

“Mmmm, Jade...” he drawled, cutting her off, his hand sprawled out flat against her ass now, his fingers laced in her hair to draw her head back and look at her. “Fook...” His eyes threatened to close for a moment, but there was no way he was missing the way she looked back at him, through half-lidded eyes, full of need and desire, and there was no way he could ever deny her. She was so beautiful it hurt.

“Take me home, Alexander” she pleaded. Her desire was threatening to spill over, and she poured it all into her efforts of coaxing him.

He licked his lips, his whole body curving against hers as he tried desperately to keep his control that had slipped the second she'd pressed herself close to him. “Jade...”

“Please” she whispered, closing the space between their faces without a second thought, pressed her lips to his slowly, softly, for not more than a few seconds, her teeth sinking slightly into his lower lip, biting just teasingly before she drew back, looking back at him with wide eyes, taking his breath away once his eyes had finally opened again, the tingly feeling of her still on his lips.

He swallowed hard. “Reyht” he mumbled, clearing his throat, hands tight on her body, his jaw tense at frustration over his own weakness. “I'm gunna take yeh 'ome.”

[hotcocosharing]

Glory Days Part 12 (IM RP AU- Shun & Midi)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Toshiaki’s POV

“Toshi - She’s not my problem.”

Girl is never an issue between the three of us, those two are used to having endless girls around them while the opposite sex know better to say away from me- the boring and scary looking dork. And frankly, I like my life in peace. Study and work shall be all I dedicate my life to, not women not partying or any kind of fun a regular college kid seeks.

To hear Maki ’s not so honest reaction, it could end worse than it already is. Watching Eri sleeps dreamily on my bunk and occasionally glancing over the living room to see Maki laughing at some kind of lame dating reality show till he doozes off- perfect- now even the couch is taken. Letting out an exhausted yawn, I give few final strokes of Eri’s hair to make sure the sleeping beauty wouldn’t be falling off before climbing down in attempt to occupy Maki’s bed instead.

The moving and turning make me freeze in position as I then see Eri arcing her back and murmuring about something being too tight. Leaning forward without making any sound, a warm with sweet scent of leopard print bra is suddenly hanging over my head, I remove it in panic and find myself now face to face with Eri who’s sitting up and clearly half asleep.

“What the heck!” Without any second thought, I take my shirt off and force it on her to cover her distracting nipples through her thin fabric.

“See! You’re the good guy!” My eyes on her dazzling and growing smile while she throws herself at me. Her arms attach to my neck, lips nibbling my ear dangerously and her soft breasts pressing against my bare chest that is about to cause trouble.

“Eri…” I whisper in defeat, hoping for her to let go.

Pulling away with her hands still hooking at the nape of my neck, her nose touching mine. “Do you hate me this much?”

“No,” Our lips are barely apart, I swallow hard. “It’s just you are really something…… I couldn’t handle.”

With a bigger grin on her face which I can’t quite see, she closes her eyes and connects our lips before pausing for a split second. “You’re doing just fine.”

My mind go blank with my pulse racing from the warmth of her gentle kiss. She deepens the kiss as I part my lips to feel her tongue entering, and letting it glide over mine, drawing circles while I slowly lay her down onto my bed. Her body is warm, soft and smooth as I begin to feel the pain from the growing twist in my pants. I feel possessed and drowning into her alluring sweetness, suddenly she stops again. I open my eyes and nearly laugh out loud at the drunken girl who’s fallen back to sleep.

Rolling to the other side, I watch Eri smiles and mumbles my name in her dreams until my eyelids are too heavy to be opened again.

Eriko’s POV

With the constant tucking and shaking, I eventually open my eyes to see Midi looking in panick and telling me how we need to rush out of here cause she’s in trouble. Having absolutely no fucking clue what’s going on, I miracly manage to leave the top bunkbed the lonewolf and I seem to have share without falling of or making any noise- college party days are definitely paying off.

How did we get here? Oh right Toshiaki!

Tiptoeing all over the place to search my phone has also become one of my greatest accomplishment and I even have a little time to draw on Maki’s face while Midi throws a shirt on- meanie

Sticking my tongue out to the jackass med student who’s still enjoying his beauty sleep, Midi grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the building in a flash. As if being dragged across the campus under broad daylight that’s way too bright and early for my liking along with massive hangover and pounding headache, the sharp pain to my arm only top up my miserable morning or perhaps afternoon.

Just let me sleep!

That’s my inner thoughts though all my senses are enhanced, my delayed reaction isn’t helping me to get the words out when I see some hot and sweating athlete, well I can’t really tell but heck the dude is glistening under the bright sun- fuck get me out of the sun! As my head’s forced to lift up by the stranger, my late reaction has finally caught up and I hear myself uttering a possibly oblivious fact out loud, “I am not wearing anything underneath.”

Shinichi’s POV “I am not wearing anything underneath.” The comment is bold enough to flush my cheeks a bright red and make my glasses nearly up at the girls hungover induced honesty. Without thinking; I shrug my jacket off my arms and wrap it over her shoulders - watching comically as the petite brunette struggles to slip into the sleeves. It’s not much, I’m aware but another layer right now with what she has on surely must help in someway.

“Are you ok?”, I hear Rikiya ask again and whilst her friend rolls her eyes, folding her arms across her chest; a little more than what I can only describe as a cheeky smirk scribbles onto her lips. “Eri… c'mon, we have to go”, her friend coaxes on yet it’s clear with the state these girls are in, they both aren’t going to make it far. It’s even more obvious when the few steps they try to take away from us are a mixture of stumbles and trips. “Let us help”, Rikiya suggests. Nodding in agreement, our offer is met with a loud, stern - NO. “C'mon Midi… let them help”, Eri managers to muster; Rikiya allowing her to lean up and rest against him so that she’s able to stand straight. Her friends patience seems to be running short as her cellphone rings again and she within seconds cancels the call. “Look.. just… fuck”, the Midi girl scowls, “..here are the keys to our room. We’re in the West Wing, Level 4, Room 76. Just make sure she gets there - and don’t try anything stupid.” Given strict instructions and taking the keys which are flung out in my direction, Rikiya and I exchange a look which continues with him scooping up Eri bridal style. “Alright… let’s get you home.”

Midori’s POV Trouble - eh, I am in so much fucking trouble. When I arrive at my mothers store I find not only her but my father there who haven’t spoken since their divorce three years ago and am scolded with the guilt trip of “we’re not angry, just extremely disappointed” which hurts more than it should. I’m told that they watched the security footage. All colour manages to drain from my face countless times as they question me on what I was thinking, what Eri and I were doing, who the boy that came in was, why we were here, if I thought it was appropriate to act like this as a young woman. My head is still pounding and after their interrogation I feel as if I’ve been thrown under a bus. Told not to bother coming in to work until I’m ‘mature enough’ to act like an adult and take responsibility for my own actions, I catch a cab back to the dorm - in a bad mood because I was not expecting an innocent night of ‘fun’ to turn out this way. Walking into the dorm finding that the door is unlocked; I’m a little shocked to see that the guys from earlier are still around - the auburn haired one in the kitchen cooking something, the darker one with glasses trying to convince Eri that water and popping a few paracetamol pills will ease the headache she’s feeling. “You’re back!”, my friend states with a smile and I remain quiet, not in the mood for conversation. Right now I just want a shower and to get changed into something that resembles real clothing and to sleep. Sleep - that’s the priority. “Midi? Midori…. Katayani why aren’t you talking?” It’s a heavy sigh that washes over me before I pinch the bridge of my nose and inhale deeply. “Because I’m not in the mood Eri. I just got chewed up and spat out and am in enough trouble to last me a lifetime.” When I say it like that - it doesn’t at all seem that bad yet I fail to mention the fact that I’ve lost my parents trust, that they want to pull me from college because they can’t see any reason that someone immature should waste time or their money apparently 'studying’ and that I’ve been told not to come in until I’m responsible and mature enough to do so… yep - great, there goes any form of a wage I needed. “It can’t be that bad…” Eri’s possibly innocent seeming comment is enough to snap a nerve and push me over the edge. “YES IT IS THAT BAD!”, I’m wishing I could just stop and pause and think about what I’m about to say but it all comes out unexpectedly, “I’m not some lucky trustfund kid who just gets to glide through life because her parents have enough money to support her and scoop her out of any trouble she gets into unlike yourself Eriko. I actually need to work for what I want and ultimately get good grades so that I can leave this god-forsaken city once and forall - and while I’m in the mood for talking - WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE GUYS STILL DOING HERE? I thought they were just meant to be bringing you home or is that not the case? Are you planning on sleeping with both of them like you are or have every other fucking guy who steps foot on this campus?” Rant over; half regretting yet half not what I’ve raged and said, I spin to leave the dorm frustrated, annoyed and upset.

[s3venpounds]

1-104

YA CHEEKY LITTLE CUNT love you tho because its always fun to do these asks even though everyone who reads will probs forget all these details in like the span of a week.

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

wanna go again?

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

nothing anymore

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

depends on what drugs, the severity of the side effects, the cost of said drugs, and how addicted they are to it. like if its weed sure go ahead long as it isn’t around me not a big fan of the smell. crystal meth however i would probably be turned off or just attempt to get them off it. over the counter drugs though is fine too.

4. Is your last name longer than six letters? yep

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober? sober

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA yes. horribly messed up. still think about it tbh

7. What does your last received text say? “ well i think you can just wax with whatever length but it wont be able to cling to your hair well”

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? lost count too busy being happy at the time

9. Where was your last kiss at? a bus stop

10. When is the last time you saw your sister? yesterday

11. What do you drink in the morning? nothing. i dont wake up in the morning

12. Where did you sleep last night? my couch because its fucking comfier than my bed

13. Do you think relationships are hard? most def. wouldn’t have it any other way though. 

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? yeah

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

yeah, the fact we haven’t talked in months, and because i’m pretty sure she wants nothing to do with me lol

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? rainy, free shower

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you? dont got a middle name so i guess yes?

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants? boxing shorts 

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now? ahahaha no.

20. Does anyone like you? trust me, if i knew i would do something about it

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S? its rude to say but i don’t remember but from what i do remember its a no

22. Is the last person you kissed gay? not gay specifically at least from what i’ve been told by said person

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand? 3 people specifically. not gonna name them

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo? multiple times, talked to tattoo artists, people who had multiple tattoos, people who are first timers so yeah i want one maybe 5

25. In the past week have you cried? yeah anime hurts the feels bro

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?does pictures on tumblr count? if yes, a shiba inu, if no, golden retriever

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower? out of the shower, i feel like im gonna slip and fall if i stay in there too long

28. Have you ever kissed a football player? yeah he doesn’t use lip balm often so it was kinda rough

29. Do you think you’re old? yeah

30. Do you like text messaging? most def. i like texting more than talking since i can think about my words and play it off as just “ yeah i was busy” also i find myself a better conversationalist on texts than in person

31. What type of day are you having? a shitty one but i showered so im feeling refreshed at least

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? nope, i have thought about getting spider bites on my lower lip but i dont think i can pull it off

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? cold weather, i hate bugs and indoor volleyball is nice

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?yeah

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling? a relationship. flings hurt afterwards and to me theres no feelings behind it so youre left feeling empty

36. Are you a simple or complicated person? i wanna say simple but everyone knows everyones complicated. if someones simple that just means theyre not letting off everything at the get go

37. What song are you listening to? lie to me george nozuka

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it? of course i do. does it mean i wont make the same mistake? nope. it just means i’ll take steps to preventing it from happening again. if it happens again then ill keep trying. all you can do when you fuck up is to just keep trying to prevent it from happening again. 39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you? i’d like to think so40. What made you start liking the person you like now?vibrant personality that draws you in. playful demeanor. likes geeky things like i do. has deep thoughts that make me want to ponder existence with them. likes physical intimacy. and the first thought when i saw her was that i wanted to protect her, care for her, and guide her in life if ever she needs help. 41. When did you last receive a text message? 8:43 am monday42. What is wrong with you right now? im not independent? i rely on friends and other stuff to grant me happiness when really the only source of happiness i can rely on if to draw it from myself. friends help but they can’t be the only source. i have trouble moving on from past issues, constantly weighed down by past decisions and mistakes when i should have passed it a long time ago.43. How well do you know the last female you texted? not very well however she knows me very well since i vent to her lol44. Does anyone disgust you? yeah the same 3 people i mentioned that i cannot stand.45. Would you date someone right now if they asked? most likely yeah46. Are you in a good mood right now? nope. neutral if anything47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?me mother before she left for a bus shuttle to fort mac48. What color shirt are you wearing? nude. no plans today, or guests so that means no pants, no shirt and occasionally if im feeling happy enough, no underwear either49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? not recently. i have a feeling that i’ve given off the vibe to all my friends that they have to tip toe around me about a lot of topics else they’ll make me sad. i’d rather a splash of cold water in the face than some shitty lie50. Anyone you’re giving up on? myself mostly.51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? i never hate the people i used to date. i hate the decisions i made that lead to breaking up. i tend to think things are never someone else’s fault but more of mine. even if by some weird chance it wasn’t i would twist it so it was my fault. its just easier for everyone that way if people have a scapegoat.

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t? yeah.53. Do you like rain? i love it. sometimes on rare occasions i can almost feel the shitty person inside me just kinda slide off my skin and drip off the tips of my fingers and i feel … complete? is the best way i can put it54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks? nope. party all you like, im just not too keen on drinking very often or partying very often. although when i do party ill party hard.55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them? who hasnt?56. Do you like to cuddle? love it. spooning, arm on shoulder, hugging from behind, them sitting on your lap, them holding you from behind. my skin feels electric when the person i love has their skin against mine.57. Are you shy? i’d like to say im not58. Do you get along with girls? i’d like to say i do59. Have you dated the person you texted last? not going to lie hahah i considered it at some point60. What do you carry with you at all times? phone, wallet , keys.61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you? yeah most likely. the economy sucks bro.62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months? yeah assuming i dont fuck up lol63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?nope. sadly.64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute? DAMN STRAIGHT.  shit would be like a good luck charm65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week? my niece tried to say duck and instead said fuck

66. How old are the last three people you kissed? probably going to get some questionable looks from this but 16, 24, 21

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? pay for a pro, i am NOT an artistic person.   68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    zebra. black and white. leopard print makes me think a white 40 something year old with plastic surgery, hair thats half a meter tall and nails that are longer than most men’s penises talking with a southern belle accent that tries to hit on pool boys69. Do you have any stickers on your car? none70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? i hate country and im not a fan of lil wayne anymore so i guess lil wayne if i absolutely have to.71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    android 72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    couple days ago?73. Do you like diet soda?    hate it. feels fake to me74. What color are the walls in your room?    boring beige75. Are you 16 or older?    yes.76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    heard of it, seen gifs, dont plan on watching it77. Do you have a job?    as of now yeah.  78. What are your initials?    SM79. Did you ever have braces?  nope.  i had retainers but i kept breaking them so my parents were like okay thats enough, its too expensive to replace them lol80. Are you from the south?  im about as north as you can get without living in igloos

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    “day barely started and 4 things putting me in a shitty mood. looks liek today is gonna be loooooooooong”82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    i wish.83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    mother. although im not on good terms with either of them. my mother just has more patience to deal with me84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?   i did pom squad which was a pretty shitty version of cheerleading i guess. 85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters? beauty and the beast i thoroughly enjoyed it =]    86. Do you smoke?  weed or cigarettes? either one ive stopped both. not worth it, plus i dislike smelling gross.87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    i’ve worn heels before but not for a prolonged period of time but they felt nice so i’d say hells. flip flops keep making annoying sounds and it makes me grind my teeth thinking about it88. Is your phone touch screen?    yes89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    straight. i’d love it to be a bit curly. i even permed my hair last year apparently it looked good says some friends of mine.90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    i snuck out last night lol. the family gave up on stopping me.91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    pool. rivers and lakes have the possibility of germs, leeches or other shit. its a hassle to have to take extra precautions92. Have you ever made out in a car?    yep.93. …Had sex in a car?    almost.94. Are you single or in a relationship?   single. 95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    playing overwatch with my friend reo.96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    AW COME THE FUCK ON. the last relationship questions weren’t enough to jab a knife in my chest but this too? fuck. whatever. it was at capital ex or k- days whatever the fuck you wanna call it. i had fun. the fireworks wasn’t the only thing that sparked. fuck. instant bad mood.97. Do you like the camera on your phone? yeah its really good. i can take pictures of my friends and even see the condition of their pores and shit its pretty nice.   98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    nope. i’d like to try it though99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    not yet.100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?  yeah. i should really just delete my facebook.  101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?  nope.  102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    Die young103. Do you have any tan lines right now?    nope.104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts? sure why not. i’d probs wear assless chaps too if i had a nice ass

[crotchexplorer666]

A L L O F T H E Q U E S T I O NS

If I must, deary-

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess, @gamingkilledthecat!” Jenn exclaimed as she quickly rolled under the bed. That is where she stayed for many years in shame.

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

Uh...Um..Oh, wait, nevermind. I thought this was asking about my first kiss. My dad and I are cool. Not in the romantic way.

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

Depends on whether or not it kills their personality. 

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

My last name is five letters.

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

Sober..

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

I messed up by not trying hard enough.

7. What does your last received text say?

“what the heck-i was literally about to say something and then i see this“- @gamingkilledthecat  (You caught me at a time in which I was speaking to her)

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

I give my dad a good night kiss every night.

9. Where was your last kiss at?

In the car when my dad dropped me off for school..?

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

I just saw my brother 10 minutes ago.

11. What do you drink in the morning?

Coffee. Lots of it.

12. Where did you sleep last night?

In my bed.

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

If you wanna keep it exciting, yes.

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

Mhmm.

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

Stop bringing my father into this-

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

Sunny. However, I prefer either cold, cloudy, dry days or warm, summer nights. I tan too easily, and it’s natural for people to wish they looked tan when they are pale and pale when they are tan.

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

DAVIDLEEROTHIS THE BEST SINGER

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

Pajama pants.. C’mon, I wake up at 2 am. Don’t expect me not to be tired and uncomfortable after school.

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

Sure.

20. Does anyone like you?

Hard to believe, but yes.

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

Uh.. yeah..

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

No.

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

Anyone who doesn’t like me for no reason.

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

Only a very small one on the shoulder.

25. In the past week have you cried?

Yes, a ton. c:

26. What breed was the last dog CAT you saw?

A domestic medium hair is all I can tell you. Brown tabby with yellow eyes, white underbelly, white chin, white mittens, and a huge tail. .w.

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

Out, but sometimes in if it’s too cold.

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

I prefer the build of cross country runners.

29. Do you think you’re old?

Nah.

30. Do you like text messaging?

When I text I wish I could be with the person. I’d prefer to be there in person so that they can see my emotions or understand my jokes more, but texting is okay.

31. What type of day are you having?

I’m so happy it’s Friday! I’ve gotten about 5 hours of sleep every night for the past week-

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

I don’t find it very attractive, but maybe a very small, discreet piercing.

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

I don’t like the sun. Warm weather away from the sun is nice. Cold weather without the sun is also nice. If it’s nice and cloudy, I gotta pick warm.

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

I hang out with a lot of boys-

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

I could go either way, it depends.

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

I don’t think anyone is “simple.” Human beings are all very complicated organisms with their own thoughts and feelings, unlike most animals.

37. What song are you listening to?

“Hair of the Dog” by Nazareth. ;D

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

yES.39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?

Nope.40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

I can’t explain it. Maybe we were just meant for each other in a way no one can put into words.41. When did you last receive a text message?

A second ago. x)42. What is wrong with you right now?

Many a things.43. How well do you know the last female you texted?

Enough to be her best friend if I only I knew her irl. ;0;44. Does anyone disgust you?

I shouldn’t say--45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?

Yeah, sure. YOLO46. Are you in a good mood right now?

I’m never in a good mood, but my outgoing personality masks that.47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?

Madelynn. cx I go with her to the library on Fridays and play on my phone while she is tutored by a nice, lovely woman. Then we usually get fast food and I’m dropped off at my house.48. What color shirt are you wearing?

Black and navy blue.49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?

I like to hear everything about people. 50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

Uh, depends on what you mean by that.51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

Not even close-

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?

Nope. I don’t give up easily. c:53. Do you like rain?

I don’t really like being wet.. The ocean scares me.. 54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?

Only if they abuse me while they aren’t thinking straight.55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

Mhmm. 56. Do you like to cuddle?

When we’re alone.57. Are you shy?

Ye s. I only hide it well. 58. Do you get along with girls?

I get along well with anyone who is human..? Cats too.. C a t s , m o s t l y.59. Have you dated the person you texted last?

Nope. I’d go out with anyone if they asked.  60. What do you carry with you at all times?

My phone, my phone charger, and five bucks. 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

If it’s only fucking creepy and won’t actually hurt me in any way, hell yes. 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?

I can do many things.

63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

Nah. 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

yES-65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

My cat. Every day.

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

My dad is 57, my mom is 51, and Yearni is probably 17 by now-

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? 

DIY W/ JENNCOMING TO YOU IN THEATRES FAR AWAY   

68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    

Is neither an option? If I had to choose, it would be zebra print.69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    

No..70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    

Uh, who are these people?!71. Blackberry, Android, or iPhone?    

I have Android, so that’s cool.72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    

Uh, maybe 2 years.73. Do you like diet soda?    

nO74. What color are the walls in your room?    

Green-ish.75. Are you 16 or older?    

I prefer not to tell my age. x)76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    

Nah.77. Do you have a job?    

Nope.  78. What are your initials?    

J.W.79. Did you ever have braces?    

Nuh-uh.80. Are you from the south?    

Noooo

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    

I’m too lazy to check. x-x82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    

Nope.83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    

Dad.84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    

I play a trumpet, I run, I draw, I do many things. Everything but those two and things that require being limber.85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    

I don’t know. ;D86. Do you smoke?    

No, but I don’t hate all smokers. People need to realize that smoking was really popular in the 20th century, and once they gave in to peer pressure, they were addicted. Now they are hated and guilt-tripped for something they can’t control.87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    

Socks and sandals, FTW.88. Is your phone touch screen?    

Mhmm.89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    

My hair is naturally curly. It dries differently every time I take a shower.90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    

Yes.91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    

I’d rather stay dry, thank chu.92. Have you ever made out in a car?    

No.93. …Had sex in a car?    

No, thanks.94. Are you single or in a relationship?    

Fat, single, and ready for a Pringle. (Actually, I’m a bit underweight, but I’ll still take that Pringle.)95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    

Sleeping so that I could wake up at 3 am.96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    

Chinese New Year.97. Do you like the camera on your phone?    

Sure.98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    

No.99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    

Never.100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?    

I’m not on Facebook much-101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?    

Nah.102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    

Probably “Blah Blah Blah.”103. Do you have any tan lines right now?    

I tan too easily..104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?    

Sure, why not. That’s UT in Austin spirit, right there.

[mst3kproject]

907: Hobgoblins

I have to begin with a confession: I've never been able to watch this episode all the way through.  I've tried.  I can't do it.  Hobgoblins is too awful.  Too stupid.  Too tedious.  Watching the movie for this review was actually the first time I've seen how it ends.

Ha ha ha.  Like I give a shit how this movie ends.

So there's this old film studio lot with an eldery security guard who is trying to train a successor, but his new hires keep dying on him.  The latest model is called 'Kevin'.  Kevin is dull in both looks and personality, and hangs out with a bunch of annoying stereotypes: there's Daphne the Slut, her boyfriend Nick the Rambo-Wannabe, Kyle the Dorky Pervert, and Amy the Repressed Ice Bitch.  Unfortunately for us in the audience, these idiots are not the expendable meat.  They do not get amusingly killed off one by one.  These are the characters we're supposed to like and they all survive. Fuck, I hate this movie.

Anyway, the reason the apprentice security guards keep dying is because the film vault is home to four hobgoblins, ugly little puppets from outer space who have the power to bring people's fantasies to life and then kill them.  The movie tries to make some kind of point out of this, with the old security guard explaining that what people want isn't always what's good for them.  This is often true: think of the people in the real world who've achieved their own dreams of fame and fortune only to end up broke, addicted, in jail, or all three.  That, however, is hard to depict in less than a hundred minutes with a budget of less than a hundred dollars and an IQ of less than a hundred points, so the movie is a little less subtle and realistic about it.

The previous apprentice security guard, Dennis, got a few seconds of being a rock star before tripping over nothing, falling off the stage, and I guess breaking his neck.  Kyle's dream is a physical date with his favourite phone sex girl, who tries to push his car off a cliff.  Nick wants to be a war hero: he jumps on a grenade.  Amy wants to open herself up to sexuality, so she becomes a stripper and... you know, I don't want to know how her backstage quickie with the hairy bouncer would have destroyed her.  Same for Daphne's 'truck full of soldiers' fantasy.  We can take it for granted that it would have been fucking stupid.

Supposedly the fantasies only disappear when the Hobgoblins get killed, but even though I counted at least four dead hobgoblins there are somehow still a couple of them left when they get chased back into the vault at the end.  The old security guy then blows up the whole building with dynamite that he's apparently had on hand the entire time and never used.  Why the hell didn't he do that years ago? The characters loudly let us know that they have learned nothing from any of this, and then, thank god, it's over.

Hobgoblins is so incredibly bad it almost defies description. It is painful even to look at this fucking movie. This is in large measure because there's nothing in it to look at. Movies should really have things like mood lighting, direction, and set dressing, but Hobgoblins has none of that. The set dressing thing is actually particularly noticeable.  There are three major 'sets' in the 'movie', if I can use those words: the warehouse, Kevin's place (I think it's Kevin's place, at least), and Club Scum.  All of them suck furry hobgoblin wang.

The 'warehouse' is some kind of office building.  It's nowhere near shabby enough to be actually abandoned – the floors look like Kalgan was only just through there on his linoleum zamboni – and possesses about as much personality as a jar of Cheez Wiz. It's not creepy.  It looks like someplace where those old high school friends Facebook wants you to re-connect with probably ended up working.  The movie could have done something with this, juxtaposing a workaday exterior with the horrors hidden within, but doesn't bother.

Kevin's house looks like they got permission to film there by promising to buy it from the realtor who's been trying to sell the place for six months.  They probably got all their shooting done in an afternoon and then absconded before anybody could demand a down-payment.  Like the warehouse, it's completely bland.  Both the exterior siding and interior walls are beige.  There's not much by the way of décor, and almost no furniture.  I think we're supposed to believe that only Kevin and Amy actually live there, though it seems a bit odd that they'd be living together when their relationship is emphatically not sexual.  Based on what we see of the others, however, it looks for all the world like Kyle camps out on the living room sofa every night, and Daphne apparently lives with Nick in his van in the driveway.

I probably shouldn't judge.  I've seen weirder living arrangements among twenty-somethings.

Then there's Club Scum, which is supposed to be a strip bar where tough types hang out.  I think it was filmed in an elementary school auditorium.  All the 'set dressing' is stuff that can be quickly taken down because the PTA needs the space for their Holiday Bake Sale on Saturday.  And despite the place's supposed reputation, the movie balks at showing anything questionable actually happening there: some extras drink fake beer, and Amy 'strips' by taking her gloves off.  That’s about it.

Some band that was willing to work for ‘exposure’ puts in an appearance here.  Their song is bad but it does its job, which is to make the movie three minutes longer.

Costumes are as minimal as sets.  It's a funny thing about costumes and sets – when they're done well, you don't notice them.  They become nothing but the clothes people are wearing and the places they are in.  If you're looking at them as costumes and sets, it means that somebody has fucked up.  The people on the Club Scum set are wearing costumes, dressed up as tough types but in no way actually inhabiting those characters.  They look like they're at a Hallowe'en party.  So does 'Fantazia' the phone sex girl, in her leopard-print top and tight gold pants.  The clothes worn by the main characters look like they're a product of the actors being told “dress like a _____.” Dress like a soldier.  Dress like a prude.  I dunno, just show up with clothes on.  The only costumes in the whole movie that really work are those worn by the security guards, and that's mostly because security guards in real life don't look like they particularly inhabit their uniforms, either.

As well as nothing to look at, there's nothing to listen to.  The characters have nothing interesting to say, because like the sets, they're boring and flavourless.  Each has a single note that they never deviate from.  We have no idea why any of these people hang out with each other.  Why are Amy and Daphne friends, when their only personality characteristics are the diametrically opposed 'prude' and 'slut'?  Why do Kevin and Kyle hang out, when they barely interact?  Why are Kevin and Amy dating when they don't even seem to like each other? The only relationship in the film that is given any kind of basis is that of Daphne and Nick, who seem to be together entirely for the sex.

I want to say that writer and director Rick Sloane clearly has one hell of a madonna/whore complex, but considering that the men in this movie also seem to define themselves in terms of the sex they are or are not having... I guess he's actually just a creepy weirdo.

If this movie has any defenders (which I doubt – even Sloane knew it sucked corn-filled, coiled-up shit, because he submitted it to MST3K himself), they might now be saying that none of this matters, because the movie is a comedy.  One-note characters are part of the joke! That argument may hold water for some movies – Zoolander, for example, derives much of its humour from the title character's stupidity and narcissism.  It doesn't work for Hobgoblins, though.  In order for something to be part of a joke, the movie has to have at least one joke.  Hobgoblins does not.  It has premises that could be used for jokes, but no jokes are ever made with them.

The most obvious example is probably Daphne.  Daphne is a slut.  The movie tells us this over and over: Daphne is the sluttiest slut ever to need an improbable amount of semen pumped from her stomach, and... that's it.  That's as far as it ever goes.

That's not a joke.  Daphne is a slut is not a joke, it's merely a statement.  Your mama's so fat, she went to a restaurant and got a group discount is a joke. It takes a premise (your mama is fat) and does something with it, taking it too far and drawing an absurd conclusion (the restaurant staff thought she counted as several people).  You can't just say your mama's so fat and end there, because that's not funny to anyone over the age of six.  Neither is Daphne's sluttiness, Kyle's phone sex addiction, Amy's repression, or Nick's assholetude.  The movie acts as if these things are funny all by themselves, but they're not, not even on the puerile and insulting level of a 'your mama' joke.

The closest Hobgoblins ever comes to having a joke is when the characters agree that one person should hold all the wallets while they're in Club Scum – they elect Kyle, who is promptly robbed at knifepoint by a thug who was listening to the whole conversation.  This is obviously supposed to be funny, but again, nothing is done with it.  It's just a thing that happens and is then immediately forgotten about.  It's shit, just like everything else.  Fuck this movie.

Seeing as I've already said I consider The Starfighters to be possibly the worst movie ever shown on MST3K, I'm sure somebody reading this is wondering which I would rather watch – Starfighters or Hobgoblins.  And to that person, whoever they may be, I answer thusly:

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 46

[silverlight013]

Final Fantasy XV: Ebony and Fire

Chapter 1

My eyes flutter open to the sound of muffled arguing voices. I try to hone in but I can't make out the words. My vision is blurry at first, but then it starts to clear.

Where am I…

"Look, she's awake!" I try to sit up but something, a hand, pushes me back down by my shoulder. The hand moves from my shoulder to my forehead and seems to feel to see if I have a fever. The hand is cool to the touch and I close my eyes briefly as I welcome the cold. My body seems to be radiating with heat.

Ugh…I'm so warm…and I feel like I got hit by a bus…

"Can you hear me?" I open my eyes at the male British voice and look up. The hand disappears and I follow it next to me where a man is sitting. He seems to be in his twenties and is very lean. I look up toward his face and notice his glasses as they refract the light. I nod at him as the glare disappears to reveal two piercing emerald eyes. My breath catches slightly; I've never seen eyes like these. They seem to pierce my very soul, but in a way…they make me feel comfortable…warm. My heart quickens slightly and I can feel my face heat up. I peel myself away from his eyes and take in the rest of him. His hair is tawny, but styled upward; though it doesn't stick directly up. It's just…slicked back…it's…hard to explain, but it looks good on him. Makes me wonder how it would look if it was down…He's dressed in a purpleish-black leopard print button up shirt that's rolled up to his elbows. Through the collar I can spy a small black skull necklace. Well that's odd, that doesn't really fit with what I'm seeing. I wonder if it was a gift…He looks at me for a second and then sighs as he pulls a black and silver glove over his hand, it's now that I realize his other one had been gloved the entire time. It seems like he only took one off to feel for a fever. "You were out for quite some time you know, we were all getting rather worried."

We?

I pull the comforter up to my chin and look about the room. My eyes stop at the foot of the bed where a group of three boys are standing. Well, not boys they seem to be in their twenties. One boy; well, man, is taller than the other two by a lot and is jacked. His arms are folded and he's in a tank top. I can see his muscles rippling underneath it. There is a chain around his neck that falls to about his chest that connects with some sort of 'X' pendant. It almost reminds me of a rosary. Under the tank seems to be what looks like wing tattoos across his arms. I shudder at the thought of how much pain that must have been. Woah, ouch…My own tattoo was pretty painful and that is only about the size of my fist. I can't imagine something that big. I glance up to his face and he waves his hand gently, the hand he waves has a single glove on it, but it's not complete. It looks more like a brace of some sort…or a glove that's only purpose is to protect from calluses, it looks weird. I dig down a little more into the covers, nervous, as I meet his eyes. They're a golden brown and are as equally comforting as they are intimidating. Like I wouldn't wanna piss him off because he could destroy me… He also has a scar that runs across the one that's my right. I cringe again. Damn…how did that happen? His hair is slicked back, but it's longer than the man to my left's and he seems to have shaved the sides by his ears. He has a bit of a beard as well, but when I look at it I meet his eyes on accident and shift briskly to the next boy.

The boy in the middle is standing with his weight on one foot; his hands are in front of him and are resting lightly on his white belt. He glances from the ceiling down to me and meets my eyes. My breath catches slightly at I see at how blue his eyes are. So pretty... His features get softer as his mouth peels up into a smile. His smile makes me less nervous and I come out of the blanket a bit. As the light catches his face freckles appear , giving him a sort of cute young look. His hair is blonde and seems to stick up on one side like he went to bed with his hair wet, it makes me smile back. I look him up and down and take in his sense of style. His shirt is black but seems to have a white or silver maze pattern that goes through it. He has a bandanna on his right arm, my left, and his hands are covered by black gloves and a few bracelets. His hands are still resting on his white belt that's looped through black-no I think that's actually leopard print skinny jeans. I look back up to his eyes, seeing as how the end of the bed keeps me from seeing what he has on his feet. His smile fades slightly as a sadness shoots through him, but it's gone just as fast as it came and I can only imagine that it was because of how messed up I must look…

My eyes shift to the boy next to the blonde; this boy has blackish-blue hair that seems to be spiked in the back, and is dressed in all black. Our eyes meet and my heart aches, his eyes are so blue and…they look so sad…so…depressed, so tired. I know that feeling; where something is weighing down on you so much that you're just exhausted and it shows in every aspect of your being…The boy frowns slightly, like he's wondering why I'm staring at him, so I drop his eyes. His black attire seems to be a long sort of short sleeved jacket that reaches down past my view, a t-shirt with a skull pattern around the neck, and pants that seem to be like lounge-ish low-crotch pants…it's hard to actually tell what they are. He folds his arms and shifts his weight to one foot, I notice that one of his hands has a glove that reaches to mid-forearm, it looks padded and the fingers are cut off. Is it for blocking?

I continue to look around the room; I seem to be in some sort of hotel room. Okay that's weird…and super not comforting…I don't even know where I am, or even where here is! A familiar feeling grips my chest and it gets harder to breathe.

"How is she doin' Iggy?" The brown haired mountain of a man addresses the man next to me in a sort of gruff voice.

Iggy? Is that seriously his name? That doesn't fit at all…maybe his name is really Ignatius…I guess in that scenario I'd call him Iggy too…

"I'm not quite sure…but she has obviously regained consciousness and her fever seems to have broken, so that is good news. Other than that I don't feel comfortable examining her until She gets here…"

She? That's awfully vague…I wonder who it is.

"Can she talk?" The voice seems to come from the black haired boy; I look at him then to 'Iggy.'

Iggy looks at me puzzled and then to the black haired boy and back. "I'm not sure. Can you say anything, dear?" I look up and into his emerald eyes.

What do they want me to say? Yes, I can talk, but where the fuck am I? It would be nice to know that…

"What's your name?" The black haired boy seems to be slightly agitated now. What did I do? "Where did you come from?" My brain tries to find the answers but there is some sort of block, everything is…fuzzy.

I…can't remember…how did I get here? I can't even remember what I was doing…The harder I try to remember the harder it gets to breathe and the bigger that tightness in my chest gets.

"Dude, chill, let her answer one question at a time." The voice seems to come from blondie, but I can't focus, I can't breathe.

Where am I? How did I get here? Where is home? Can I even get home? Who are these men? Have they done anything to me while I was unconscious? What will they do once I want to leave? Will they say that because they took care of me that I'm in their debt…where am I?

The questions pile up and up and the noise of the men talking draws further and further away until it's nothing but muffled voices. I sit up to try to be able to breathe easier, but I can't. I find myself leaning forward gripping my shirt as if it's choking me. I can't breathe. My vision blurs as tears form. No, not right now, this can't be happening. I can't fight it. I can't breathe.

"Ignis! Look!"

There seems to be shifting next to me and 'Ignis' kneels on the bed with one hand on my back and tries to look at me in the eyes for some sort of physical ailment, but I know he won't find one.

"What's wrong?" He seems to be nervous, but he's more concerned than anything else. I look at him through blurred vision as I gently begin to rock back and forth as my anxiety tears through me, ripping down all my protective walls so it can claw at my brain. My heart pounds in my chest as it tries to fight the monster gripping it. I have to say something; anything.

"I can't breathe." It all comes out as one word, but he seems to understand immediately as the tears fall to the comforter. He snaps his head to the other boys.

"Out now!"

I stare down at the blanket as they all seem to shuffle out and I hear the door close behind them. My sobs come in short bursts and it escalates until I feel like I'm screaming, but there is no sound. I try to calm myself, I try to focus on something and try to shut this down like I've done oh-so many times, but it's too late, the dam has burst and I have to ride it's wave until it's over. I feel the hands of 'Ignis' gently rub my back and he seems to have gathered what's happening.

"What do you want me to do?" His voice is calm and soothing, but it barely scratches the surface. My body is wracked with a monster that is eating away at my mind, destroying me from the inside, in times like these there are only two things that help; mind altering medication…and being held…

I don't think I can ask him to do that…but this needs to stop, nothing else is working. Can I even speak? My screams are so silent that I'm not sure my voice even works anymore…this fear of nothing, this anxiety has such a tight grip I don't think it will ever let go…All I want is to feel safe…to be held and told that it's okay. Please…just help me…

I feel pressure on my hand as he seems to take it in his and squeeze it lightly. I look up to him with tear filled eyes and as I try to hold everything in my lip quivers. I feel so helpless…I see that there is room in the way that he's sitting to just slide into an embrace. Ugh I don't want to do this…but I don't have a choice, my brain isn't capable of rational thought right now. Oh forgive me…

I pull my hand away from him and lean into his chest an place my head so I can hear his heartbeat and wrap my arms around his thin frame, he seems obviously surprised at first but then after a second I feel him softly place his hand on my back and he seems to hold me tightly as he rests his chin on my head. I feel like a child who has just woken up from a nightmare…

"Shhh, you're alright my dear, you're safe now. Nothing can harm you." His voice is soft and melodic; it hits a part in my brain that kick starts the recovery. His embrace is warm and it makes me feel safe as he holds me tight. I breathe him in with a breath and my nose is filled with a mix of coffee and cologne, whatever the cologne is, I like it and I'll have to see later what it is. The coffee smell however, I'm not too big of a fan of, but they blend alright.

I have no idea how long I sit there, wrapped in the arms of a stranger, but eventually my sobs quiet and I am able to quell and shut down the monster in my head, and return it to its cage. My brain is muddled and I'm beyond exhausted, but I manage to let go of him and wipe my tears away.

"I'm sorry you had to see that…I'll be okay now…" My voice is quiet and tired.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He still seems wary and like he's worried I'll break again at any second. I sigh; I'm used to this reaction.

"Yeah…just tired is all…"

"Perhaps you should rest again…" I nod as he moves from the bed back to the chair to give me some room. I lay back down and onto my left side so I can continue to face him.

"I hope I didn't scare them…"

"They'll be fine. Does that happen often?" He seems concerned and leans forward and places his hand on my exposed one, as if still trying to comfort me. It works.

"More than I'd like to admit, yes." I pull the covers over my shoulders a bit more and get comfortable; I can feel myself sliding toward sleep.

"And do you normally deal with it yourself?"

"Sometimes…" I yawn.

"Well, I guess I'll let you get some rest." He goes to stand but I grab his wrist without thinking.

"Hey, um, I-actually I don't know what to call you." I think his name is Ignis, but I wanna make sure.

He looks down at me and smiles warmly. "Ignis Scientia is my name, but you may call me Ignis." I nod and drop his wrist. "Did you need anything else?" I snuggle back down.

I should probably warn him about what happens after…

"Yeah…normally I sleep for like four hours after this…so you might want to wake me up in two, just so I don't freak anyone out." He nods and chuckles a little but I'm not sure what's so funny.

"I understand. Get some rest, I'll come wake you later." I nod as he leaves the room.

I adjust in the bed until I find its maximum comfort spot and sigh. Well that was embarrassing…I hope I didn't freak anyone out. I'm not sure what triggered that one…maybe just that I still don't know where I am or how I got here…or how to get home…but I guess on the bright side I feel a bit safer knowing that there is someone like him in the group…someone who will comfort a complete stranger with no problem…

As I feel myself slip into the void of sleep one name floats through my thoughts. Ignis Scientia…

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