#black shirs are not fair

[meowsalah]

[yuribeam]

1, 6 (your turn >:3), and 23! <3

ack you got me! <33

1: What song makes you feel better?

tough one cause I love music that has potential to make me worse lol... Bound to Lose by Electric Guest is usually a fair bet if I need an infusion of good energy

6: Say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

I have nice titties, I like my silly rapunzel hair, and I am extremely cuddleable

I'm creative, I'm thoughtful, and I care a lot about improving myself

23: Favorite piece of clothing?

Tough question to ask a lolita.. my Lady Sloth Teatime At Grandma's JSK, BTSSB white princess shirring JSK, brown plaid sailor collar OP, AP Symphonia of birds skirt, and Pina sweet collection classic OP are probably top 5, not touching the blouses

as far as daily wear / things that currently fit me, I just thrifted a black mesh tshirt that I'm pretty jazzed about

[daltonc16]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: UNIVERSAL Thread flannel buffalo plaid check black white purple blu shir….

[xddaengx]

Play Along:The Series ⎜pt 4

✧ Pairings: Seventeen x Reader ⎜ Minghao x Reader ⎜Junhui x Reader⎜ Mingyu x Reader ✧ Genre: Poly AU! ⎜ Idol AU ⎜ Established Relationship ⎜ Romance ⎜ ✧ Warnings: Skype Sex ⎜Foursome? ⎜ Fingering ⎜ Blindfold ⎜Handcuffing ⎜ Squirting ⎜ ✧ Word Count: 2.3 k ✧ Summary: Your boyfriend proposes the idea, that he shares you with his 12 best friends. ✧ Author’s Note: This is inspired by my kinktober post "Play Along" I decided to turn it into a series with all 13 members, each member will be apart of a chapter either together or seperate. Let me know who should I post next?

(UNEDITED)

“You know I’ve never done anything like this before, what make you think I’d know how to set it up.” You hiss at your boyfriend, as you adjust the camera and the laptop facing the bed. The chord running from the camera to the computer being fiddled with by your boyfriend.

“Wait, I got it.” He shouts in success as the image of the bed pop up on the Skype call screen, the two of your high fiving quickly before moving around to the other side of the bed. “You sure you’re good with this?” He questions you as you climb onto the bed, shrugging off your hoodie, only left in one of mingyu’s old tour shirts and the pair of fluro pink bikini briefs he had bought for you a few days ago. You nod again leaning back against the pillows, shuffling a little to make yourself more comfortable on the bed before raising your arms up towards the head board.

“It’s not fair that just because they both had to go back to china, they can’t join in on the fun.” You mumble, letting out long breaths as you watch Mingyu grab one of your wrists softly, cuffing the pink leather bands around it, before doing the same with the other wrist.

“Comfortable?” Mingyu asks, waiting for your nod before reaching into the pocket of his black tracksuit pants, pulling out the pink blindfold, you let out one more deep breath before raising your head slightly so he can slip the fabric cover your eyes. “I’ll start the call now.” Mingyu announces moving away from you on the mattress over to the computer where he selects the two contacts he was looking for and pressing call.

You hear the little beeps of the call connect and the familiar voices says their cheerful hellos. Mingyu’s face must be taking up most of the screen because they don’t mention anything about their friends girlfriend being tied to the bed. Mingyu’s voice rings out in the room, “so you guys are both alone? The managers aren’t there?” You hear the two voice chime back with the answer mingyu was looking for, you can almost feel your boyfriends smirk as he moves away from the camera, your body finally coming into view.

“What the fuck?” You head Minghao swear, as Mingyu sits on the mattress next to you, his hand gently stroking the arm beside your head.

“Mingyu, what are you doing?” Jun’s voice cuts in next, your boyfriend just letting out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t pretend like you guys were disappointed when you thought you wouldn’t be able to take part in the sharing. We thought this would be the easiest way for you to get a peek of what you’re missing.” Mingyu coos, his hand pausing it’s stroking on your arm, to smooth down your torso, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt.

“Only if the two of you want it though.” He adds, his hand pausing waiting for their reactions.

“And she’s okay with it?” Jun asks softly, you slowly nod your head, mingyu’s voice confirming your answer. There is another short silence before Mingyu stand pulling up your t-shirt, lifting it slowly, his fingers grazing the soft skin of your stomach, pulling out choked breaths, all of his touches feeling more intense with the thought of the two members watching him.

You shirt reaches the underside of your breasts, his hands stopping letting it sit just underneath the two mounds of flesh. “Did you want me to raise it more?” He asks, the two whispered yes’s coming from the computer speakers make a small grin grow on your face, mingyu’s hands moving again, lifting the shirt above your breasts exposing the soft skin to the cold air of your bedroom, your nipples tensing immediately. You feel mingyu’s hands smooth up the side of your torso, stopping on either side of your breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over the nipples, a soft breath all you can manage.

“You seem a little sensitive tonight, my dear.” Mingyu coos down at you, his thumbs still rubbing soft circles on your nipples, you feel him shift besides you slightly, probably giving the two on the computer a better view. “Don’t you just love when she becomes breathless.” Mingyu questions.

“Is she always that sensitive?” You hear Jun’s voice ask - you hear mingyu’s soft chuckle as he pinches you left nipple, a short whine escaping you.

“Not usually - I think the blindfold is making things a little more intense. Isn’t that right, princess?” Mingyu responds, and you nod slowly, your hands scrunching closed as he moves his hands away from your breast stroking them back down your torso till they sit on the sides of your bikini briefs.

“Should we take these off?” Mingyu asks, his voice sounding right beside you ear, startling you slightly. You nod quickly, but mingyu just chuckles. “Don’t you think we should ask our guests as well?” He questions again, and you just nod. “Ask them then.”

“Jun.” You call, getting a quiet ‘yes’ in response.

“Hao?” You call out as well, the same response in return.

“Should Mingyu take my panties off?” You question into the room, your head pressed against the pillows your wrists pulling against the cuffs. Your thighs rub together softly, reaching for any friction you can find. Mingyu squeezes your hips, pausing your motions as the room stays quiet. The two boys not knowing how to respond to your question.

“Has she been a good girl?” Minghao’s voice finally crackles from the computer, the breath catching in your throat as your whole body tenses, unsure of what Mingyu will say. The night earlier in the week with Seungkwan flashing through your head - what if this is his way of getting revenge?

“She’s been the best girl… She’s always a good girl.” Mingyu says with a soft chuckle, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against your temple. You’re not sure what happens, what sign Mingyu gets before he starts peeling your underwear away from your hips, slowly tugging them down your thighs, lightly pulling them off your legs.

“Show yourself to them, princess.” Mingyu whispers, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your ankle before nudging your legs up the bed slightly. You take the hint quickly, bending your legs at the knees until your feet sit comfortably against the bed, before your begin to open your legs slowly, a smile on your face at the soft gasps you hear from the computer. Mingyu’s hand latch to your ankles stopping your from opening them any further.

His hands stroke up your legs until they reach your knees before smoothing back down the skin, goosebumps raising all over your body, as you lay still on the bed, Mingyu stroking you - your legs open, exposing you to the two men in another country.

“Touch her, gyu.” Jun says softly, “Show us how wet she is.” He adds, you hear shuffling before your feel mingyu’s body take the spot next to you on the mattress, his body facing towards the computer and he places his hands on your inner thighs. Pushing your legs apart a little further, before his finger dip between your folds dragging up the centre - a loud whine pushing out of your mouth.

“Shit.” You curse softly, fighting the urge to slam your legs shut, listening carefully as you hear a loud sucking sound before letting out a hum of content.

“God she’s tastes so good - it’s a shame you can’t taste her.” Mingyu teases, you hear two firm curses come from the computer, before you feel mingyu’s finger back on your again, rubbing up and down your folds, holding them open as he says, “she’s so wet - and it’s all because the two of you are watching.”

Mingyu rubs you a few more times before dipping his fingers into your entrance - you can’t help the loud gasp you let out as he pumps his two fingers inside of you slowly - letting the pads of his fingers stroke along the walls of your cervix before pulling them out and slowly repeating the process.

“More, please.” You whine, you wrists tugging against the restraints, as the small heat begins to build in your stomach. “Please, gyu, faster.” You try again, hoping to appeal to your boyfriend soft side.

“You’re asking the wrong person, princess.” He says softly, his finger spreading inside of you softly.

“Jun, Has, please tell him to go faster, please.” You plead, your hips bucking softly, as mingyu pulls his fingers out of your to rub up and down your folds again.

“Just giver her what she wants, Mingyu - don’t be a tease.” Minghao says quickly after your begging, his tone sounding as desperate as yours.

Mingyu is quick to oblige to the requests pushing his fingers back inside of your - his pace almost doubled as his fingers pump in and out of you.

“More.” You huff, your hands squeeze against the ropes attaching the wrist cuffs to the bed. Mingyu lets out a gruff laugh before adding a third finger - the pace becoming almost brutal as you lets out small whimpers - the feeling building higher and higher in your abdomen, one of mingyu’s hand reaching for your hip - pushing them back down to the bed.

“More. More. More. More” You whine louder - the word becoming like a mantra as mingyu’s fingers pump harder and faster, you hips bucking as Mingyu rubs his thumb against your clit - the bundle of nerves feeling on fire as the pleasure builds.

“Another finger.” You breathe. Mingyu following directions quickly adding a fourth finger, the stretch burning slightly as his pace continues - the tempo turning your whines into heavy breaths.

“Shit, Gyu.” Jun curses the scene in front of him making his hand pump faster on his cock - the sounds of your choked breaths making his balls tighten painfully.

“You’re almost fisting her.” Minghao adds, his actions mirroring Jun’s as he watches the scene with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.” You swear, mingyu’s pace slowing slightly as he feels you clamping down on his fingers.

“You close, princess?” He questions, leaning down towards your face, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, I can barely move.” He chuckles, his fingers still working their magic, tightening the coil in your abdomen until it snaps, a loud moan spilling from your mouth, your legs slapping shut, your hands pulling as tights as they can on the rope - trying to break your arms free.

“Is she?” Is all Jun manages to get out as your senses close off to the world, only able to feel mingyu’s fingers still pumping slowly, easing you back down on the mattress, the feeling of the wet sheets taking you by surprise. Even with the blindfold on, your eyes are squeezed shut, heavy breath trying to ground your body.

“You did so good, baby. So good.” Mingyu praises, his hand stopping their movement pulling out of your gently, his other hand smoothing the hair away from your face. You let out a high whine at the feeling of his fingers leaving your body.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” Jun says again - his own breathing heavy.

“Ditto.” Minghao adds with a light chuckle, “Can’t say I’ve every seen a girl squirt in person before.” He adds on - the wet feeling suddenly registering in your head.

“I’m gonna clean her up and get her tucked into bed.” Mingyu says quietly, sounds of agreement coming from the computer.

“I hope you two enjoyed.” You say with a breathy laugh - your body melting into the sheets as sleep makes its way in.

“Definitely did.”

“I’m going to remember this forever.”

The two boys coo, saying their goodbyes before you head a few buttons click and the laptop close.

“Baby?” You hear mingyu’s voice call - you roll your head to the side, letting out a hum of response. “I’m gonna undo your wrists and take off your blindfold, okay?” You nod softly, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as mingyu pulls the soft pink fabric off your eyes, his hands making quick work of the cuffs against your wrists. You can see the brightness of the lights dim a bit before mingyu is back at your side, his hands stroking your hair away from your face.

“Whenever your ready, baby, just open your eyes slowly and I’ll help you to the toilet.” Mingyu says softly, the sight of his big grin, brightening your own.

“I think I’ll be fine going to the bathroom on my own.” You huff, stretching your arms out and giving them a little shake before sitting up on the bed slowly.

“You sure? I mean you’ve never done that before and what if you collapse?” He questions, his hands placed gently against you back incase you fall backwards.

“I’ll be alright. If you wouldn’t mind changing the sheets though - I don’t want to go to sleep sticky.” You say, leaning forwards to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I promise - I’ll be fine.” You reassure him, sliding to the end of the bed and standing up slowly - ignoring the way Mingyu hovers behind you, until you make it into the bathroom, turning around to look at him.

“I feel great, gyu. Promise.” You smile up at the lost puppy, the way he watches you move warming your chest. “Please just go fix the bed, you can even pick out my pyjamas.” You mumble, Mingyu nodding softly, looking you over once more before moving back towards the bedroom.

You close the bathroom door behind you, leaning against the door for a few minutes letting everything play through your head again.

“Fuck me.” You curse in disbelief, before moving towards the shower, starting the running water.

[anonymousfiction211]

The washing room

Summary: You spill your drink on Loki and decided to clean his shirt.   Word count: 1.485 words Warning: Smut A/N: A bit busy with school lately. Not a very long story, but still hope you like it :) Let me know if you have any comments, suggestions or ideas!

“No, I’m not doing it”

“It would just be for this night. Please? As a favour for me?”

“FINE! But just for THIS night! And don’t forget to say hi to Jane for me”

You followed Thor to the living room. Loki sat there reading one of his books. He didn’t look up when the two of you entered. He licked his finger and turned over a page. “I’m going to Jane’s tonight. So lady Y/N will be keeping you company tonight” Thor said to Loki. “You mean babysitting” he said without looking up. Thor sighed and looked at you “Don’t let him get into trouble”. You gave him an sceptic look. “Okay, just call me when he gets into trouble”

You sat down on the couch and turned on the tv. You started to flip through the channels. “Can’t you just pick something to watch” said a low voice near your ear. You gasped in shock and accidently dropped the remote on the floor. Loki walked around the couch and picked up the remote. “Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack” you hissed at him. He plopped down next to you “Not amused, darling?”

He changed the channel and a horror film started to play. You tried to take the remote but he held it too high. “Come on, you know I scare easily” you whined. He looked into your eyes “Isn’t it your job to keep me out of trouble?” he smirked. “Besides, if you’re really scared you can curl up to me” he winked at you. You felt yourself blush a little. You crossed your arms and stared at the tv. “Would you like a drink?” he asked you. “Eh.. yeah, since when are you so nice?” “I am always nice to you” he conjured up two cups and handed one to you.

It wasn’t a secret that of all the people living in the tower Loki got the best along with you. That included his own brother. He never threatened to throw you out of a window or stab you. But he sure was annoying most of the time. He was always finding way of getting under your skin. Putting hair dye in your shampoo, or your books too high so you can’t reach them. But the most annoying part was that you couldn’t stay mad at him too long. You were madly in love with him from the first day he moved in. He could be moody, but was always charming. And the two of you had more intimate moments, seeing a side of him not everybody knows about. Plus he had a certain grace about him. Everything he did seemed flawless, calculated. His emerald eyes and long black hair had you staring at him every time he wasn’t watching.

You pretended not to notice his arm sliding behind you on the back of the couch. Sure, you and Loki were friends. And he was an enormous flirt and tease, but you always doubted his sincerity. You weren’t following the movie, suddenly a jump scare appeared on the screen. Out of instinct you put your hands in front of your face, spilling the drink you were holding over Loki’s shirt. You heard him sigh and you saw the wet stain on his shirt. “O my god, I’m so sorry!” You stood up and went to grab a towel from the kitchen. When you came back Loki had taken his shirt off. You stopped in your tracks and stared at his abbs. When you see Loki you wouldn’t take him for a muscular guy, but he certainly had a trained body. He cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. You were hoping he didn’t notice your face reddening.

You walked towards him and started to dry his chest. “Again, so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he put his finger under your chin and tilted your head. You looked straight in his emerald eyes “It’s okay, darling” he said in a husky voice. He let go of your chin and put hand on top of yours, which was still holding the towel to his chest. He lightly stroked your hand, not breaking eye contact. Your mind was racing with thoughts about Loki and you kissing, undressing and more. “Ehm… you shirt! I should put it in the washer” you quickly said. You broke contact and grabbed his shirt. You quickly walked towards the washing room.

You bend down to put his shirt in the washer. When you closed the washer door you stood up straight. You felt two hands on your hips and a chest at your back. A hand left your hips and put your hair behind your ear. You felt lips against your ears and hear him whisper “Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. I need you, badly” You turned around and faced him in shock “W- what?” “Darling, you must have noticed the teasing and flirting lately. I certainly noticed that slight blush on your face” he put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you towards you. Your lips were almost touching. “Can I?” he asked. You nodded and you felt his lips press lightly against yours. He kept going and you felt his tongue begging you for entrance. You opened your mouth and let him in. You slid your own tongue down his mouth and started to explore it. Your hands were stroking his chest lightly.  

He broke the kissing and smiled at you. “I don’t think this is quite fair” he said. He grabbed the under hem of your shir and pulled it over your head. He started to kiss you again and you felt a hand unclip your bra. You put your hand around him on his back and pulled him as close as you could “it’s cold” you said. “I know a way that will warm you up” he smirked. He pushed you back, trapping you between the washer and his body. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you up, placing you on top of the washer. You tried to break the kiss, but he wouldn’t let you. “I need air” you said between kisses. “I have been waiting to kiss you since I met you, I am not stopping” he growled. You giggled and put your hands in your hair. You felt him smile and felt his hands staring to caress you breasts. You felt your nipples harden as the kissing became more passionately.

You squeaked when the washer started to wash in the highest setting. Sending vibrations through your entire body. Loki chuckled “Enjoying yourself?” You felt him open up the buttons of your pants, sliding his hand down. You moaned and started to kiss his chest, trailing up to his neck and ear. Feeling proud when you heard a soft moan escape from his lips. He started to tease you by drawing circles on your underwear, right on top of your clit. You tried to move your hips with his movements. Becoming wetter with the minute. “Stop teasing me” you moaned. “Teasing is in my nature” he said with amusement in his voice.

A green shimmer engulfed the washer and it started to vibrate at a higher pace. You yelped at the new feeling, but Loki shut you up by sliding his tongue back in your mouth. You felt him slide your underwear to the side and go back to drawing circles on top of your clit. His fingers went lower and two of them entered you. Making you moan like crazy. He started to pump his fingers in and out of you. Loki started to place kisses up and down your neck, occasionally biting you softly. While his fingers worked their way in and out of you, you felt his thumb go back to your clit. The overstimulation and the vibrations of the washer send were becoming to much. You started to moan louder “Loki, please… I’m so close” He stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes. “Come for me” he whispered in his low husky voice. You didn’t know how, but came undone immediately at his command, moaning his name.

Loki worked you through your high. The washer stopped vibrating. He pulled his fingers out of you, as slow as he could. He kissed you passionately. He put his fingers to his own mouth and licked them clean. He was still staring into your eyes. Watching him do that got you worked up again. He grabbed your hips and pulled you against him. Your legs wrapped around his waist and a hand supported your ass. You felt his erection against your heat. “I’m not done with you” he whispered. He walked you back to his room. “Good thing we were alone tonight” you said. “Hmm.. almost as if someone planned it this way” he said teasingly while squeezing your ass.    

[sleeplessincairo]

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one. 

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest. 

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands. 

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be. 

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

[cloversweets]

touch

Your Wooper has run off somewhere in Hulbury, and you're going crazy looking for him. Luckily, a certain especially lovely Gym Leader is there to keep an eye on him.

pairing: nessa x reader

genre: flirty fluff!

a/n: read on ao3! this is a request for a wonderful anon (who requested ‘a small drabble where the reader is visiting Hulbury and her Wooper escapes (again) and they end up running into Nessa who catches the slippery little guy as well as the reader’s heart?’) <3 enjoy!

You have no idea how your Wooper manages to run so fast without any arms. Really, you don’t, but you suppose you’ll have to figure it out quickly so he’ll stop sprinting away from you at any opportunity he gets.

You’d decided to take a day trip to Hulbury with your little Wooper to check out the markets and treat yourself to the calming sea air and a nice walk along the promenade. You’d also made the mistake of mentioning to Wooper that maybe, maybe, you could take some time to check out the Stadium and do some training along Route 5, so you suppose that’s where your ultimate mistake lies. Wooper, usually fairly mellow, had been suspiciously excitable since, and - through especially wishful thinking, you suppose - you’d somehow convinced yourself that it was just his excitement at some nice salty air and perhaps a little vial of nice-smelling incense to carry.

Obviously, you were wrong. You should’ve remembered that your Wooper, as sweet as he may be, has a tendency every now and then to become inexplicably hyper about random things he’s never particularly cared about before. Either way, now you’re chasing him around Hulbury as he aimlessly zooms around town, trying your best to apologise for the havoc caused in his wake. To be fair, nobody seems particularly bothered by the sight of you jogging around cluelessly, but still.

You stop for a breather for a moment, leaning against the metal railings that overlook the ocean and boats surrounding the little port town. You have no idea where he is, and though you know there’s no real reason to panic - realistically, someone will see the little tag around his neck with your name and address and send him home - you’re starting to feel the anxiety well up inside of you.

A pleasant voice coming from behind you interrupts your thoughts. “Excuse me, love?” they say, and you turn to see a fisherwoman smiling at you, her rod hanging over her shoulder. “Sorry, but are you the one looking for the little Wooper?”

Oh, Arceus. Is this what infamy feels like?

“I am!” you say, smiling ruefully. The cool breeze from the ocean blows the wind in your direction, and you feel yourself relaxing a little as it soothes your frazzled nerves. “Do you know where he is? He’s very excitable - I shouldn’t have let him out of his Ball, I think.”

The lady chuckles, patting your arm. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ve all been there.” She turns around to face the direction of the promenade you were so excited to walk down before Wooper went all Free Wailmer. “I’ve heard he’s currently running around near that lighthouse over there - do you see it?” You nod along, and she smiles brightly. “Head towards the Stadium and keep walking right until you get to the stairs. If you get a bit lost, just follow the road.”

“Thank you so much!” you tell her, a little overcome with emotion, but she waves a hand at you, still smiling.

“I’ll hear nothing of it, love,” she tells you. “And you don’t need to worry yourself, alright? I’m sure Nessa will have it under control.”

Nessa? You don’t know much about her, to be fair; what you do know she’s the Gym Leader of Hulbury - but also an especially famous, busy model. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of the staff from the Stadium had come out to get your Wooper under wraps, but Nessa? Hm.

You smile at the fisherwoman regardless. “Thank you again, really,” you tell her, hoisting your bag up your shoulder a little. “You’re so kind. I appreciate it!”

She shakes her head, giving you a little wave as she takes this as her cue to get back to - well, fishing, you’d assume. “My pleasure, hon!”

With that, you head in the opposite direction of her, following the road like she suggested. It’s really not a long trip, but you make it in quiet trepidation. You know the Wooper line can be a bit dangerous - they’re covered in a slimy, sticky protective layer you can’t see until you touch them and realise oh, actually, that really hurts - but that’s not really common knowledge. And though this is home of the Water Gym, it’s also surrounded by saltwater - and the Wooper line aren’t freshwater Pokémon. With your nerves forming a knot in your stomach, you pick up the pace a little. Regardless of what happens, Wooper certainly isn’t getting any incense now.

To your surprise, the calm atmosphere doesn’t change into absolute chaos as you walk past the Stadium and make your way down the stairs to the promenade; it’s still quiet and serene, with distant waves crashing along the shoreline as the only thing working to disturb the peace. You peer around as you reach the bottom of the stairs, but you don’t see anything until a tall, slender figure stands from a bench near the lighthouse.

You take a few nervous steps closer before you realise who it is, and you almost stop dead in your tracks when you realise it’s Nessa herself. Nessa isn’t dressed in the Gym outfit you’ve seen her in before; instead, she’s in a pretty white shirred top and a pair of blue skinny jeans, the black bucket hat on her head doing nothing to stop her long hair from blowing in the wind. With one hand, she holds the bucket hat to her head against the wind, and with the other, she raises a hand to greet you. The gold bracelets on her wrists glint in the light.

You’re so mesmerised by her, it takes a second longer than it maybe should have to notice Wooper leaping off the bench and running over to you so quickly he almost tilts over.

“Oh!” you exclaim as he stands on the tips of his little feet, his tail thwacking the floor excitedly. “Wooper, I can’t believe you would run away like that!”

“I’ve found Water-types always get more excited than they think they will whenever they visit Hulbury,” a smooth voice says, and you look back up to see Nessa strolling towards you. She’s prettier up close. Oh, no.

You clear your throat, managing a smile you think looks normal enough. “I should’ve known better,” you admit. “Wooper can get excited. I mentioned training on Route 5, and he’s been hyper ever since.” It’s a second before realisation hits. “Oh - I hope you didn’t touch him! If you did, we’ll have to wash it off quickly, it-”

Nessa chuckles, crouching a little to look down at Wooper. “He’s got that sticky film on him, I know. Don’t worry.” You sigh in relief. Wooper is already peering up at her in excitement, and he makes a bubbly noise when she smiles at him. Looks like Nessa has the same effect on people and Pokémon. “I suppose you’re just as special as your trainer, hm?” she asks him, and glances up at you with a smile. Your face flushes so hot so quickly, you think you might pass out.

Straightening back up, she reaches out a hand. Reaching out to shake her hand, you notice that her nails are painted a pretty, shiny nude brown, and the jewelled rings on her fingers shine. “Today is my day off, actually,” she says, shaking your hand briskly. Thank Arceus your palms aren’t sweating. “I was gonna take a walk along the seafront to pass the time, but I heard about this mischievous little boy causing havoc around my hometown, hm?”

Wooper, completely unashamed, hops excitedly.

“I suppose it’s a good job that I did,” she continues, watching you with a smile playing at the corners of her lips. If you’re honest, you’re struggling to break eye contact with her; her blue eyes are so lovely, and she’s wearing shimmery eyeshadow that only serves to make her eyes sparkle even brighter. “Otherwise, he might’ve been halfway across to the Isle of Armor right now.”

You laugh, rubbing your arms a little sheepishly. “I’m so sorry for the trouble,” you tell her, finally breaking eye contact to watch Wooper carefully as he toddles off to peer around the pier. “Honestly, we only came to have a look at the markets and maybe have a nice dinner at, um, that really famous restaurant.”

Nessa’s smiling when you meet her eyes again. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nod, and hope she can’t see the tips of your ears from beneath your hair. She’s so gorgeous.

“That restaurant isn’t very good,” she says quietly, leaning in close as though she’s sharing a secret. You feel like a weirdo for noticing how nice she smells - sweet yet musky and a little salty from the sea. “Just because the Chairman used to eat there and sometimes bring Leon doesn’t mean it’s good.”

You raise your eyebrows, and she gives you a wink. She has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re in on something together, and - it feels dangerous, to be honest. 

You’re just about to make up an excuse for why you have to catch your train right now immediately before you take the final step and fall in love with her forever when she turns to stand beside you in comfortable silence, joining you in watching Wooper crouching to peer at the ocean crashing into the pier.

“That being said,” she says after a long pause, and you turn to look at her. She’s still watching Wooper, but she still has a look. “I know better places to eat.”

“Oh,” you say, nerves bubbling up inside you. “I’d love a recommendation.”

“How about I show you?”

Your brain blips out of existence for a long second. You can’t even hear the noise of the waves or the cries of the Wingulls from where they’re perched upon the roof of the lighthouse. After a long, long second, it reboots, and you’re almost choking on air to respond.

“I- I- Of course!” you stutter, watching that smile grow on the corner of Nessa’s mouth again. “Only if you’re free, and I’m not interrupting, of course. I know you’re busy, and I’m sure you had plans-”

Nessa turns to you fluidly, giving you a broad smile for the first time. “I have new plans now,” she tells you, and you’re dazzled. Turning her head, she whistles to catch Wooper’s attention. He waddles around and peers at her - he looks just as shocked as you do, and you find yourself giggling at the expression on his face. 

“Woopy,” you call, and he glances curiously between you and Nessa. “We’re going to eat. Come on!” He pauses for another moment before bumbling along towards you, the curious look still on his face. 

“You suit one another,” Nessa tells you as you begin to walk together, meandering along the promenade. You almost choke on an inhale when you feel her sliding her arm around yours, linking them together loosely. She’s so friendly towards you already that if you weren’t barely managing to keep it together, it would probably go to your head. “I can understand why he’s your partner.”

You turn your head to peer at her quizzically, and she catches your eyes a moment later. “Is that because you’re a Water trainer?” you ask, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

“Not at all,” she tells you. “It’s because you’re both cute.”

You flush so hard from your neck to your scalp that even Nessa hides a giggle against the back of her hand. You don’t even know what to say - ‘So are you’? She obviously knows it, in the best way possible. ‘You’re too kind’? That goes without saying. “Maybe I should let Wooper wreak havoc around here more often,” you offer after a long stretch of silence, and Nessa giggles again.

“I’d like that.”

“You would?” you ask, and Nessa shrugs.

“I mean, let’s get this date out of the way first before we make any more plans,” she tells you, and - date? You won’t question it - you need to start acting like you’re cool at some point, after all, but… a date. Wow. “But yeah. I think I’d like that very much.”

You look away before her smile makes you any dizzier than you already are, and settle your eyes on watching Wooper waddle ahead, enjoying the sea breeze. “I’d like that very much.”

[ego-driven-one-wing-angel]

1.2 DEMURE | Sephiroth

ego-driven-one-wing-angel 1.2 DEMURE | Sephiroth

A/N: Ahhh, finally. This thing is up and I apologize for the long wait! But now that I have everything scheduled for the next three weeks, we can get this show on the road! Which means you’ll officially be getting a chapter out every week as previously described! So have fun!

WARNING:  THIS BOOK IS RATED 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED. THERE WILL BE SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SCENES, SWEARING, ADULT THEMES SUCH AS PAST ABUSE, ALCOHOL, AND AGAIN SEXUAL SCENES, I CAN NOT REPEAT THIS ENOUGH. This is basically an erotica between OC Kalista Shir and Sephiroth.

PLEASE TAKE CAUTION.

CHAPTER 1 CAN BE FOUND HERE

1.2 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her away, she adjusted her sails.” - Elizabeth Edwards

[TRACK: Ancient Roman Music - Synaulia I]

(You can listen to the tracks in the background if you wish, these are just the songs that either inspire me/listen to while writing the chapter. Some of them are not in the taste of some readers, so it’s not necessary to listen to it. Anyway, enjoy!)

Kalista yawned as one of the other girls continued their fair share of stories. It was as per usual at the Poppy Circus Outlet. Where the workers gathered around in a circle, left in pillows and half-drunken champagne bottles, drowning out the Midgar noise with sweet music and their even sweeter voices of tales from the night before. Tradition they would call it, but that morning had them buzzing with more laughter and curiosity than ever before.

Adras, who had been labeled as floor two’s leading woman, kept a keen sight on Kalista as another eventful story filled their ears. It seemed their prized girl had no sleep the night before, with subtle black bags hanging from her eyelids, puffy cheeks, a lack in even participating besides slurping the champagne as if she had a better place to be. No surprise, she had been nicked with a knife. But that wasn’t what Adras was paying attention to. She had survived much worse, and still came out smiling. In other words, her usual chipper self was halted, and Adras had a flicker of an idea as to why.

“Well, didn’t you hear what happened last night?” Another one of the girl’s said quietly as if reading Adras’s thoughts, scooting over to Kal and barely grabbing at her thick black hair to call her attention. “A certain General was said to be seen walking out of Kalista’s room, quite scandalous don’t you agree?”

A hoard of laughter arose, and Kal took another sip of her champagne. “Nothing happened.”

Adras tried to keep a smile building on her angular features, a red eyebrow cocked. There was hardly a time where Kalista spilled her story with eager ears, but Sephiroth’s appearance had all the girl’s curious. Not a single one of them had met him before, what made Kalista so special? Special enough to receive an invite into her quarters late at night.

“Not what I heard.” Another said, almost insinuating details that were otherwise untrue. A sly smile, and it caused the other girls to nod and whisper as if they were small children.

“I promise you, it was as thrilling as watching paint dry. Nothing happened.”

Kalista tried not to let the wondering eyes burn, but it was hard keeping thirty girls occupied with fictional stories. Especially if it tarnished a name. Poppy Circus prided itself on secrecy, and if it ever got out that Shinra’s top notch poster boy was wandering in it’s halls, the secrecy would be no more.

But she tried not to imagine his hands running up and down her silk tapestries, so precise, so clean, no wonder he had a fan club built on hormonal young women. He was dripping sex appeal with the most mundane tasks, words, even making Kalista dream up dirty thoughts the moment he had left.

Adras popped open a new bottle, spilling it into her empty cup as she continued to stare, waiting for Kalista to give a few minute details. Anything would satisfy them all.

Kalista’s lips parted just as Daring’s signature knock rang against the wood doors, and all heads pointed until Daring popped in, his wide grin interrupting their storytime and mild interrogation.

Adras set her bottle down, as did the other girls to listen to today's news. The customer's, the rooms, the timeline on when and how they are presented and dressed for the upcoming day. If they were still on retainer, if they were removed, how much money they would be receiving and so forth. Important details every girl in the Poppy Circus kept their ears open for. Especially the ones who’s salary depended on the men who wandered through the doors.

“I have some very good news today,” Daring said, almost dancing as he clapped his hands together. His teeth were showing more than ever, his eyes nearly shut, and he let his voice run in a sing-song pattern. “We have one of our girl’s now set on an official retainer. Can you guess which one of you had captivated a man’s heart to the point of spending stupid amount of gil?”

A few of them shook their heads no.

Daring wandered over close to Kalista, pulling the champagne glass from her hands and sitting right beside her.

“Oh Kal,” he said as if he was on the brink of bursting into song, “can you guess? Just take a huge shot in the dark on which one of you has lured in a lucky lad.”

Kalista shrugged.

“Oh darling, it’s you!”

The other girls chorused into a wave of oohs, deliberately trying to come closer and listen further as Kalista sat up from her pillow, a little uneasy and wary of her future endeavors. Especially after the unfortunate customer she had dealt with previously, she was a bit terrified to hear what plans Daring had next. She could never be too cautious.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sephiroth.” He said as if it was obvious, handing her back her glass as he skittered off to the other side of the room. He was beyond proud, feet kicking as if dancing, twirling with the other girls, listening in on the music barely heard through the jukebox. “My little peach you, always seducing the best ones and you seemed to catch the biggest fish in the whole dang pond this time.”

Kalista let out a chuckle, taking a much needed sip of her now returned champagne. “You’re joking.”

“Why would I be joking?” And before she could ask anymore questions, he skipped back, placing a finger above her plump lips to shush her. “You must prepare to get ready, he’ll be back tonight”

Kalista fiddled with the pins in her hair, propping up a loose curl there, pulling her bangs from her face, letting them loose and raising them up as she couldn’t decide. Hair was never her specialty and she stared back at the mirror, focusing, watching as her hair turned from a solid black to a fire-crimson in a mere few seconds. She inspected her new look, trying to decide if red was too much, but the footsteps riding behind her door caused her hair to simmer back it’s raven flight.

Her stomach seemed to be lodged in her throat. There weren’t many men that sent her nerves haywire prior to her first appointment, but it seemed Sephiroth did. Maybe it was the major height difference, his voice, how he presented himself so well without even trying. She hardly met a man that could just waltz into her room with a set goal in mind, Daring was picky, and it meant she had to be on her best behavior if Sephiroth was graciously paying for her services.

But as she opened the door, Daring’s sweetened face popped back into view, the smile still evident, his teeth polished and primed with the faint smell of mint and alcohol.

“Oh, Kalista,” he said, pushing the door aside as he inspected his best showgirl. Hand underneath her chin, moving her head side-to-side to see the painted beauty of the Poppy Circus Outlet.

Lips like a rose, eyes lined with black, lashes set to a point with her natural rosy cheeks coming to view. With the candle-lit glow, he was quite pleased with how well she could present herself. One minute she was just a simple beauty, the next, a million-dollar prize. All dolled up in a silk robe.

“Beautiful as always,” he said, removing his hand and inspecting Kalista’s room next.

Compared to the other girls in the building, she always had a much cozier atmosphere. With thick blankets lining the windows and bed, tapestries with gold fringe and candles seeping out a sweet vanilla scent. Carpets so soft and fluffy, paintings and brushes hidden in corners, and Kal’s signature bottle of champagne always sitting at a table.

He always did appreciate Kal’s tactic on homely appeal.

“He’ll be here in the next hour,” Daring said, “Genesis and the other usual SOLDIER are already here, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want the attention to be brought unto him, you know, with his reputation and all.  So just be prepared when he does show, I won’t be there to break the ice.”

She nodded, “how much did he pay?”

“The usual. But I may or may not have taxed a bit more off him to pay the building off.”

“How much for me?”

“Seventy-percent, as always.”

Kalista couldn’t help but let the smile wander. “You always know what to say.”

“Of course I do, darling.” And he patted her on the shoulder, as he always did to wish her good luck. “If there’s any trouble like last night, please come to my office. Get one of the other girls. Don’t come back in here to hide out, alright?”

She gave a little kiss on the cheek, a red stain left on his tanned skin. “Always.”

One final pat and he shut the door behind him, leaving Kalista to her things. For a minute she believed Sephiroth was already there, but as the candles flickered and the other girl’s shut the doors to their bedrooms, she realized she was on her own for a while.

Within the hour. Daring’s voice popped back into her head, and she smacked her lips mindlessly as she fiddled with a stray curl. There was a lot to mentally prepare, and the only way to stop the anxiety from rising, and keep her stomach from releasing large amounts of alcohol, she turned to the one thing she knew.

Painting.

Kal hadn’t even pulled out all her brushes when another knock echoed on her door. The lump in her throat returned, and she couldn’t stop herself from staring blankly as another knock filled her eardrums. Her hands seemed to be shaking, and she couldn’t figure out why.

But with baited breath, she had made it to the door, opening it, and getting the fresh scent of honey and soap.

“You were downstairs in Daring’s private bar weren’t you?” She said matter-of-factly, letting Sephiroth in as she got another whiff of the honey infused wax they kept on in the bars downstairs. She could always tell when a customer would come crawling out the waiting room, it was usually very few, but those that had taken a minute or two waiting in Daring’s personal lounge always left with an engraved smell of sweet honey and tea leaves. Much different than the cigar smoke and hard liquor in level two’s free range bar.

The click of the door closing had her heart set on fire. Her mouth had gone dry. And a very low chuckle escaped her throat.

“What’s so funny?” Sephiroth asked, and Kalista tried not to speak as she shut the door completely, locking it as she always did in case curious souls decided to peek. Not the best in case she wanted to get out, but it was better than letting a pervert interrupt her most intimate moments.

“It’s nothing.” She finally said, turning back to find Sephiroth back in front of her paintings. He seemed to have a fascination with them, but she didn’t mind. She hadn’t met another person who appreciated the arts like she did. It felt different. Just to let someone take their view of her art, it was almost joy-ridden, and Kalista almost forgot the fear rising in her nerves.

Kalista placed her paintbrushes on the stand next to her, coming up behind Sephiroth just to peek at her own artwork too.

“Do you know who this is?” He curiously questioned, his eyebrows furrowed at the contrast of the blond woman holding a rose. So pristine, quaint, almost as if it was a snapshot of reality framed for the world to see.

Kalista shrugged, “she was this girl I met a long time ago. She used to work here. Never been painted, so I ought to change that.”

“And you kept it?”

“She never came back to get it.” She said quietly, almost as if the thought disappointed her. “I’ve had it ever since.”

He nodded at her answer, and for a moment the room was silent. Minus their low breathing and the wind picking up against the window.  They were beginning to hear the rest of the nightly cries of the other rooms, and Kalista tried not to think about it too much.

“Why did you put me on retainer?” She couldn’t help but say. Crossing her arms as if it was an interrogation scene and not a civil conversation. She was never supposed to ask, but Sephiroth was too weird not to question.

Most men who had paid her would already be taking their clothes off, kissing her, smearing her makeup as they drank too much champagne and vodka. Sephiroth only smelt like Darin’s honey, not a smidgen of alcohol left on his clothes or breath, nor even insinuating the concept of sex. Even last night, he hadn’t given a damn clue on what he really wanted from her. “How old are you, Kalista?”

He said her name so clearly, perfect enough to bottle every syllable.

“Twenty-two.”

“How long have you been working here?”

“Four years, but I’ve been with Daring much longer than that.”

“How long.”

“Does it really matter?”

“It does.”

She kept her mouth shut, brows furrowed as a slight smile appeared on Sephiroth’s lips. “Does it actually matter?” She repeated, and his blue eyes nearly burned through her, almost as if he was reading her every thought rather than just staring.

“I would like to know.”

“Hmm,” Kalista shook her head, stepping a few feet away as she lanced down at a near-extinguished candle. “Most people don’t ask for a full background. Let alone buy me before even having a single night with me. What do you really want, Sephiroth?”

And he let off another smile just by the sheer utter of his name. Kalista had a voice like velvet, smooth to the ears and capturing every word. She hadn’t said his name before, and it only added to the ideas circulating his mind.

[writingamileperhour]

The Clover Ring

Hello Darlings! here is my first attempt at actually posting a fan fiction. Now i know not everything is gonna be accurate and there might be some mistakes, but forgive, as i have not played the game or read the books, only watched the show, and felt like writing this!

This is about how Geralt of Rivia meets a strange witch of the forest, named Maylin, and how both find themselves spinning fast and faster down the spiral of destiny, falling in love, as foolish as it is,

Geralt and the world are not mine in anyway.

Theres some smut and swearing and violence.

Enjoy! 

Geralt grunted as his back hit the trunk of the tree, and narrowly dodged the claw that followed. He twirls his sword up and around, ridding the blasted creature of its gross, long head, and watched as it’s counterpart, a smaller version of it, but not its offspring howls in anger, and charges. Geralt got ready to stab it, but he wasn’t expecting the creature to jump at him, horns coming to thrust into with side of his chest, causing him to grunt out in pain.

He gets his sword in the blasted thing, but not after it does enough damage in his skin and muscle to make him believe he will bleed out. He lays in the dirt, feeling it soak with his blood, and stares up at the sky, the moon winking at him mockingly.

But then it is blocked out by a face. A woman’s face, an unbelievably beautiful one at that, even with the scratch on her cheek, and the look of someone who would scold him like he is a child playing with something he shouldn’t.  Her eyes however were soft, even with her scowl, and the oddest color he would think for eyes, as they shimmered both pink and blue, swirled together around a cat like pupil.

Geralt is almost thankful for something so beautiful to be the last thing he sees as his world dives into black.

 Geralt jerks awake in a lush bed, to the feeling of two small, but strong hands holding him down. His eyes wide and wild stare at the hands holding him to be laying. He grunts, as his eyes follow the arm, to see those striking eyes.

“Stop fighting me. I’m not done,” her voice is firm, yet soft. Her hair is tied back with a thick ribbon he can see poking out from behind her head.

Geralt relaxed back into the bed, and notices he isn’t wearing a shirt, and that the woman is straddling him. She sits back and lifts her hands from him and reaches to a small tray on the bed to grab a paintbrush from, and dips into a foul smelling black liquid and comes back to his chest and finishes painting symbols around the currently charred skin, as she had cauterize the wound.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asks, watching her.

“Healing an idiot,” she says as she focuses on her work, “Stop shifting.”

Geralt tries to keep still, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. He is surprised to see the ceiling painted like the night sky, with the moon and everything. He studies the entire time as the woman paints on his chest. He then gasps as he feels a rush of unfamiliar energy, and a soft purple light comes from the woman’s hands.

Geralt grunts in surprise and watches as his skin knits together, the black liquid being absorbed by his skin, and leaving behind flawless skin like nothing happened.

Then she slides off him, and stretches, “Sorry you don’t get a scar, but it’s the bets way I know to heal something that bad.”

Geralt touches the skin, then grunts again, “Hmm.”

The woman nods, “I’ll leave you to dress. I got your horse by the way. Pretty thing.” She waves and leaves the room without eyeing him like everyone else does.

Maylin walks from the room, leaving the Witcher to his dressing, and goes into the kitchen, looking over her tea collection after setting a kettle to boil on the stove. Deciding on a more normal mix, considering her company, she puts the tea leaves in a bag and in a mug before heading into the dinning room slash workspace and starts to get other herbs together.

That is about when the Witcher leaves his room and comes into the expanse of the house.

Geralt looks at the house he is in, and finds he walked into a very disorganizes library, as books and paper litter almost every surface. The woman, wearing a pair of sturdy brown pants and a green blouse whose sleeves are rolled up.

“I’m making tea. Would you like some?” she asks softly, looking up at him with those damn beautiful eyes.

Geralt nods and comes over to a chair that is holding his armour and swords. He checks to make sure everything is there and is relieved that it is. He then turns to her, and watches as he hands move among the bowls on the table, putting combinations in little bags and tying them off and putting them in a bag on a chair beside her.

“I am Geralt of Rivia,” Geralt says, taking a few steps to come closer to her, feeling as if he can be in her presence and not have to have his guard up, but he barely knows this strange magical woman, so he leaves most of it up.

“Maylin,” she offers, not looking up as she continues to work.

“Thank you. For healing me. How did you get me here?” Geralt asks as he reaches to touch a herb and is surprised when she lightly smacks his hand.

“Don’t touch. Some of this is not friendly to you,” Maylin says and shrugs, “Stronger than I look, and I have an intense knowledge of spells. But I must say it was weird to see a Witcher in my part of the forest.”

“I was hunting those monsters,” Geralt says, and doesn’t think it would be a smart idea to question her on the magic she used.

“Fair,” Maylin says, then winces softly as the kettle starts to scream, and she goes to it to take it off the heat and pour it into the mugs. She then grabs a small jar from a cupboard and puts a dollop of honey in one of the mugs, before bringing them over. She hands Geralt his, then heads out the door to sit on the porch, Geralt following behind.

Before them is a porch that leads down to a cobblestone pathway that leads to a garden locked up tight by a wrought iron fence. There is them a well, which Roach is tied to for the moment, but her saddle is resting on the fence of the porch, along with his bags.

Maylin sits on the stairs, and looks out at the trees, “Your free to go when you need to. But I am going to give you that bag of herbs, to use or give out.”

Geralt sits beside her and grunts, nodding. “Is that all you will have me do? You did save my life.”

Maylin shrugs, “I have nothing else for you to do Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt nods slowly and turns to look out at the forest before them. “I have no idea where we are.”

Maylin blinks, then groans softly, setting her cup down to lay back, “I always forget that. I’ll lead you out then.”

Geralt nods and turns to lean on the support post to look at her, studying her as she looks at him. “Your eyes are… different?”

Maylin looks at him for a long time, making Geralt worried he pissed her off by commenting on them, as he is well known to how that can be annoying, but is relieved when her face lights up with a smile and she chuckles softly.

“Thank you. One of the many reasons I stay away from people,” Maylin says and sits up, “I like your hair. I’m sorry I don’t have a bath for you, I usually just go to the waterfall.”

“Waterfall?” Geralt asks, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, like some god damn woodland fairy, I bathe under a freezing cold waterfall,” Maylin says, and finds herself happily opening up to someone, after so long of hiding herself away from the world. “What is it like being a Witcher?”

Geralt grunts softly, the ghost of a smile touching his lips at her, “Like getting the shit beat out of you every other day.”

Maylin snorts, and takes her cup to sip her tea, “fair. Telling by your scars, which I did not pry and peek at you, by the way, you have gotten beat up a lot.”

Geralt finds he is a bit relieved by her lack of peeking, and nods, “Yes.”

Maylin watches him, then suddenly sits up and leans forward, which makes him tense up, expecting a fight, as he usually does, but finds he relaxes a touch when she only touches his necklace, eyes fixed on it. “My father wore one of these.”

Geralt raises and eyebrow at that, “What was his name?”

“Terrold of Celia,” Maylin says softly, eyes becoming distant.

Geralt shakes his head, “I don’t know him.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” Maylin says and lets the Necklace go, sitting back, “He hung himself when I was twelve.”

Geralt doesn’t show any outside emotion, but he is surprised he feels a prang of sympathy for her, “I’m sorry.”

Maylin shrugs, “Things happen.”

Geralt nods, and turns away to watch his horse, and lets the silence settle between them, finding that it feels almost natural.

Maylin finishes her tea, and gets him, sliding off her shoes to go walk in the grass barefooted, and to the edge of the clearing, and she whistles, loud and a little shrill, and the sound echoes around the woods. Geralt feels a chill down his spine, and watches with wide eyes as a beautiful black stallion comes charging in at Maylin, who simply steps to the side and lets the horse charge in.

“Twi, that is enough, come on,” She brings her hand up and the horse comes and nuzzles it, having halting in his tracks when she spoke his name.

Geralt puts his empty mug down, and comes over to her and the horse, who neighs at him as he approaches, “Twi?”

Maylin nods as she pats the horse’s neck, “My horse. Will need him as he head out tomorrow.”

Geralt nods, and heads to his own horse, to pat down.

After which, Twi roams the clearing freely, gazing, and Maylin goes about her day, with Geralt spending his time on the porch, finding he can’t help but watch as she moves around the area. She tends to the garden, getting a smear of dirt on her forehead, her hair still bound back, then cooking them up some eggs he doesn’t know where she got, before she starts packing a small bag with fresh clothes.

Maylin comes up to Geralt as he was standing by the door, and holds up a light green shirt to him, and she glares at it like it insulted her. “Why are you big?”

Geralt grunts softly, “What?”

“I don’t think I have a shirt big enough for you.” Maylin says and tosses the shirt back to the hallway that Geralt came form when eh walked from the bedroom, which he realizes as he looks at the hallway, that it was Maylin’s room.

Geralt turns his gaze back to her, and her retreating form as she goes back into the bedroom, and he feels a pull to follow, and so he does. He looks into the room, to the messy bed, the blood soaked blanket on the chair, a wood burning stove to keep the room warm, a window that is open, and a closet that Maylin is searching through.

“You do not need to dress me?” Geralt says in his rough voice.

Maylin shakes her head, “I need to bathe, and I figured you’d want to too.”

Geralt looks at her, “Bathe in a freezing waterfall?”

Maylin smirks softly, and Geralt feels his cold, emotionless heart beat a touch faster at the sight of mischievous look on her face, “There is a hot spring beside it too. Ah ha!” she grabs a shirt from a hanger and tosses it at him, the shirt a nice deep red. “I know color isn’t your thing, but this should fit.”

“Where did you get this?” He looks at the shirt.

“I get odd people coming by. That was Malcom’s, may he rest in hell,” Maylin gives as an explanation, and he nods a touch, wondering briefly if this Malcom’s person is a past lover, but he quickly shakes the thought from his mind.

Maylin then grabs two towels, and heads back out to the main room and packs the towels in the bag, and grabs a small jar, and a vial, then looks at him, “Ready?”

Geralt nods, and grabs his swords, throwing them over his shoulder, and following the still barefooted beauty from her home, and into the woods, his feet finding their own way before his brain can register it. The pull to this girl is driving him both into a confusion he doesn’t like, and a bit mad. He tries to figure it out on the way to the waterfall, stepping over logs on the way, as the trail is not noticeably clear, but the way Maylin moves through he forest leads him to believe it is by design.

She stops when she stands on a large black rock, the surface almost smoothed black, and she looks over a small, shallow pool of water, a waterfall crashing on an expanse of similar rocks. He notes a small opening tot eh side of the waterfall, lit up from within in a fashion he does not believe to be natural.

Geralt moves to step onto eh rock as well, but is stopped by her hand, gentle on his shoulder. He looks up at her confused.

“Don’t touch this rock,” She simply says, and gets off it, and walks around, with him to her side, keeping him well away.

“Why?”

“As strong as you are, the power that single rock holds will bring you to your knees,” Maylin says, and runs her fingers over it like it is a keeper of an intimate secret. She smiles softly at the rock.

“You touch it,” Geralt points out, and reaches his hand out, but she snatches it quickly, and pulls him away.

“Aye, and it almost killed me the first time I did,” Maylin sets her bag down, and releases his hand. Much to his disappointment. “It… It’s a sacrificial rock for those that followed something much richer than chaos. The blood it has drank is almost unimaginable, and I often wonder what would happen if I continued the practice.” Geralt looks at her with a touch of fear, and nods slowly, which makes her laugh, head thrown back as she does so. “I won’t sacrifice you, that would be a waste of a pretty good Witcher.”

He relaxes at the words, his eyes following the movement of her hands as they untie the ribbon holding her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders in its soft brown glory, the sun hitting the soft waves and making it seem like it is made of copper. He longs to reach out and touch the strands that he has no doubt are soft. He makes a surprised grunt when she starts to unbutton her shirt and takes it off revealing a band around her breasts, but nothing else. There’s a bandage on her side, that she gingerly removes to show a stab wound, scabbed over and healing.

“Your hurt,” Geralt comes to her, and moves to touch it, but her hand catches his once more.

“Don’t. It was a poisoned blade,” she says softly, and gently puts his hand back to his side.

But it doesn’t stay there as he tries again, to no avail, “Which is more of a reason for me to look at it Maylin.”

Maylin shakes her head, “Poison doesn’t hurt me. It’s fine. Healing, and its wont scar.”

Geralt frowns, “How can poison not hurt you?”

Maylin releases his hand, and takes a careful step away, “Juts doesn’t. could drink spider venom and it would have no affect on me.”

Geralt racks through his brain for any sort of creature with that ability, but come sup short, and looks at her with his brows furrowed.

Maylin’s skin tingles under his gaze, and she knows that look well. She swears softly under her breathe, and moves away from him, and starts to remove her pants, turning her back to him as she does so.

Over the skin of her back, is a delicate lacing of gold that Geralt did not notice before, as it goes down over her arms. He makes out eh shape of wings and finds it to be glorious. He raises a hand to touch the gold, wanting to know if its painted on, or stitched into her skin, but he has a sense that the ladder would be the truth, as how could someone alone paint something like this. His hand comes back to himself, and he works on removing his clothes. HE gets to his pants, and wonders if he should go further, and looks up at ask, only to find she is no longer before him.

Maylin’s full naked form walks up into the fall of the waterfall, one of the softer rushes, and squeals softly at the cold before she closes her eyes and tilts her head into eh water, letting it work out the dirt from her skin, and the blood. She slides her hands over her breasts, and down over her stomach, and she squats down to finish the line her hands follow to her feet, a ritual she does when alone, and finds no reason not to before the Witcher. She also sees no reason to hide her nude form, as she has never been ashamed of her appearance.

Geralt was entranced by her hands and how they moved over her ample breasts he tried not to look at, and he found his eyes landing on her plump back side when she squatted, thoroughly surprised she did. He figures it is alright for him to be nude as well, and takes his pants off, and comes to water, holding a handout, his feet already a bit numb from the cold, but he snatches his hand away from the freezing spray with a gasp.

Maylin turns to look at him, her eyes never once looking over him like his did with her, and she chuckles softly. “Take the plunge Geralt. It feels good,”

Geralt grunts in disagreement, but he takes the plunge regardless and has a full body shiver that amuses his companion, her laugh ringing in his ears. He reaches his hand up to take the tie form his hair, and let it fall like hers, and finds, once the first rush of cold hits and passes, that it indeed does feel good.

“See?” Maylin calls over the water.

Geralt nods, and turns to look at her, and she has her eyes on his face still. “what was that… thing you did?”

Maylin frowns a tad, then she clues in and smiles, “I’ll show you.”

She holds out her hands, and Geralt follows suit, eyebrows raised, a small amused smile on his lips, and follows as she does it again, her eyes closed, and she seems to breath a bit better when she squats and finished the run of her body.

Geralt feels a sense of ease after he gets to his feet, and nods, “I see.”

Maylin stands after and goes tot eh bag, and grabs the jar and vial to bring over, “It is not always about seeing, but about feeling.”

Geralt grunts in response, and lets her tale his hand, turning it palm up as she pours half of the vial in it, then half in her own before tossing the vial back, and Geralt frowns, having expecting it to shatter, but is surprised when it simply bounces off the stones.

“Warded glass. It is unbreakable,” Maylin informs his confused expression, and starts to lather the soap into her hair, and Geralt shrugs a shoulder, and does the same, stepping back from the water to save the warmth he has left. He follows her once more into the water to rinse the soap form his hair, then lets her put the other soap in his hand, which smells of vanilla pine and somehow, the scent of when it rains. She washes herself, then rinses off, and steps out of the water, combing her fingers through her hair, and waits for him to finish.

Geralt does and she smiles at him and gathers her clothes and things to stuff into a log, “You should hide your swords in here too.”

Geralt nods and comes to do so, “thugs steal your clothes?”

“No, but they have disappeared before. If it were thugs, I would be wearing their ears,” Her voice is joking, but Geralt feels there’s some truth to it. “Come on.” She leads him into the cave, still naked as a wee babber, where there’s curved steps into a pool of water, and a torch on the wall that is burning.

Geralt looks around the cave and feels the heat from the water warming his cold skin, and watches as Maylin steps slowly into the water, her hand on the wall to keep her steady. She then goes to the other side, by the torch, and sits on a stone slab that seems almost placed.

“Did you do this?” He asks as he descends the stairs and sighs softly at the warmth, and quickly sinks into the water to his shoulders.

“I did,” Maylin says as she starts to braid her wet hair in tiny braids.

Geralt comes to sit with her on the slab, and their thighs touch, and he is surprised she doesn’t move away from him and relinquishes the touch. He turns to watch her hands twine the little braids together at the back of her head with practice skill, till she has an intricate braiding of hair, almost like a crown, keeping it all from her face, but it is still down over her shoulders.

“You are skillful,” Geralt says, having felt he need to break the silence.

Maylin nods and she flourishes her hand a touch, and a length of ribbon materializes into it, a blue one, and she uses it to tie her masterpiece so it doesn’t come loose, “My mother taught me, then Dina, and then Zella too, though I don’t know how she knew, she never wears braids.”

Geralt hms, at that, “Who are those people?”

Maylin smiles softly at the interest, and for a moment almost doesn’t answer, but she turns her eyes to his, and something of the light makes her tongue come loose, “Dina was a midwife I apprenticed for, and Zella… is my best friend. She’s the person I’m closest with.” She feels the sting of tears and looks away from him and at the wall, “I miss her.” Her voice is a broken whisper and Geralt gently touches her shoulder.

“Is she dead?” he asks softly, scared to offend her, but wanting to comfort her in some way.

Maylin laughs humorlessly, and shakes her head, “No. She is most likely torturing some poor man who has been foolish enough to believe she loves them.”

Geralt was not expecting that, and grunts softly, “hm. Well.”

Maylin shrugs, and looks back at him, “Can I braid your hair?”

Geralt is taken aback by the question but can not think of a reason to say no, and he finds he doesn’t want to, and nods. Maylin smiles at that and moves to be up on the ledge behind him to have better access and starts to gently comb her fingers through his silver hair. Geralt closes his eyes and lets himself focus on the feeling of his hair being braided, finding it to be one of the most enjoyable things he has ever experienced.

“Do you know any songs?” Maylin asks softly as she works, never tugging on his hair.

Geralt grunts in dismay, the whole avenue of songs destroyed to him thanks to a very annoying bard, “Regrettably so.”

Maylin chuckles softly, “Fair. I did hear that ‘toss a coin’ song in a tavern. It has a catchy melody, but the person singing it doesn’t hold the emotion the song should have.”

Geralt hms, wanting her to continue.

“well… A Witcher’s job, far as I know, is not easy. Tossing a coin doesn’t solve the problem, and perhaps the valley of plenty is not a plenty of coin for a Witcher to take, but more a valley of monsters, and for each one, a person should toss you more than a coin, cuz money doesn’t stop the monsters,” Maylin explains, “I think the song should be song in a much more solemn to, and with a piano maybe.”

Geralt nods and gets a soft flick to his ear for moving, which eh can’t help but grumble at, “I think I would like that more than what Jaskier has done.”

Maylin chuckles, then shakes her head softly, “Color?”

“Color?” Geralt asks, and opens his eyes, “For what?”

“For the ribbon. What color?” Maylin asks, getting ready to finish.

Geralt searches for a color, but finds only two come to his tongue, and knows he could not deal with he torment if he picked the other, so he says, “Blue.”

Maylin flourishes her hand gently, and a blue ribbon appears, and with a soft blush that she is glad Geralt cannot see, she shows him it, as it is the same color as her eyes, “Like this?”

Geralt nods, “exactly like that,” He whispers the words. He’d get another when the part ways, so he can tie that one to his necklace, as he knows that this encounter with Maylin will not last much longer, and he would favour a reminder of the woman that made him feel, and his heart twitch.

Maylin ties the ribbon in his hair, then comes back to sit with him in the water, “Where are you off to anyways?”

“to the nearest town,” Geralt says, and looks at her, to find those two tones eyes glancing back at him, but this time, they drift for a brief second to his lips, then back to his eyes.

“I will accompany you. I could use a few things from the market most likely,” Maylin says.

Geralt leans a touch into her, his hand coming up and carefully coming to stroke her cheek, and he marvels as she sighs softly at the touch and turns her head into his hand, “What will you be getting?”

Maylin smiles against his skin and finds the callouses on his hands her new favorite part of him, other than his eyes, which are odd like hers, which is why she saved him in the first place. “A blanket for sure.”

Geralt turns her face to him, and leans in a touch more, and his heart beats a touch faster as she leans in as well, her hand coming to touch his shoulder softly, “Why?”

Maylin shrugs a touch, and with a soft sigh she takes the plunge, and crosses the distance between them, letting her lips merge with his, and finds herself falling. Hard.

Geralt’s hand pulls her closer to him, and in the back of his mind, and in his heart, he feels like he has come home.

Without words, Maylin pulls away, and pushes him tenderly up and out of the water, coming to straddle him like she did earlier that day, but this time for the reason one shoulder straddle another person. He arms wrap around his neck, hands twining up into the loose hair, and his hands come to hold her back and ass, squeezing softly, much to her delight.

Geralt’s mind empties, and he finds he’s living for the first time in a long time, and gasps into her lips when he feels a sneaky hand touching his cock, stroking it to full hardness, but from the display of Maylin, it was already half hard anyways. He holds her tight, so she doesn’t fall with one arm, his other coming to her heat to rub gently over her folds, making her moan into his mouth.

He guides his kisses from her mouth to her neck and listens to her moans as he pleasures her with her hand, rubbing at her clit, and making her arch into him. Her hand moves over his sex as well, making him bite down on her skin to stop the sounds, making her moan just a touch louder.

Maylin wants to bring him into her, but she doesn’t wish risking injury, and decides they have time for more later. She takes his hair in her other hand, and pulls his head back from her skin, and he grunts in pain, and his eyes snap open to look into hers, which glow softly, much to his surprise.

“D-Don’t,” Maylin says softly and comes to kiss him, closing her eyes to hide the glow, and he finds he can’t argue with her when she kisses him like that.

He slowly slides a finger into her, finding her tight, and warm, and she moans for him, biting his lower lip softly, making him moan, but he again tries to stop it, but she only bites harder, and he realizes as she moves her finger over his slit, causing him moan more, that she wants to hear him as much as he wants to hear her.

Her lips release his, and he kisses her throat, letting his moans come out, as she massages his cock in the same intensity, he massages her insides.

He opens his eyes to see that the wound on her side is healing, and any soreness in himself is gone, but he feels that if he asks, he will destroy this, so he accepts it with a kiss from her lips and adds a second finger.

It takes neither long to bring the other to completion, Maylin’s and Geralt’s moan mixing together as they hit their climaxes together, a swirl of magic coming from her wound as it heals completely, leaving nothing behind but Geralt’s memory of it.

Maylin rests her head in the crook of his neck and feels a warmth that has nothing to do with the hot spring, or the heat between her legs as she kisses his skin softly.

They stay that way until Maylin gets her sense back, and slides back into the water to clean their juices from herself, and pulls Geralt in as well, to do the same. Then. Hand in hand, leads him out of the small cave, to dawn their clothes once more, and walk back, hands staying together as much as they could, a lifeline between them.

But when Maylin steps into eh clearing, her body tenses, and the hairs on Geralt’s neck raise as he feels her magic, smelling as the soap did, but more like rain than other smells, explodes in the clearing.

He looks at her in alarm, his hand automatically flying to pull his steel sword out, and he follows her gaze to a man standing on the steps of the porch.

The man wears a fancy suit, one that Geralt finds to be extremely weird, with the buttons coming down, and the two pieces that flow behind him like tails. His blonde hair is combed back, and he closes a circular thing in his hand, that’s attached to a chain, and puts in it what Geralt guesses it a pocket on the inside of the jacket and turns to them.

“I see you made a friend May,” the man says, and steps down.

“Suck an egg Damian,” Maylin says, and her stance relaxes as she tightens her hold on Geralt and walks into the clearing some more, moving them so Geralt is closer to the house, and she is closer to the man.

Geralt frowns softly, and goes to move between them, and can not for the life of him figure out why she won’t let him, until the man speaks again.

“Mighty protective eh? Shame really. You’ll outlive him like you did with all the others,” Damian says, and stops a few feet away.

“I have my hopes,” Maylin says softly, “What are you here for Damian?”

“Just letting you know that there’s been some problems, and your… special talents are needed,” Damian says, glancing at Geralt with a dangerous glint in his eye before turning back to you.

Maylin snorts, “Find Zella. She’d happily rip a spine out too ya know.”

“I don’t know where she is, otherwise, I would have,” Damian says, annoyance sliding into his voice.

Maylin frowns, “She isn’t hard to find.”

“Is that why you still live here alone?”

“No. I am recovering.”

“From what? To tell us,” Damian gestures to himself then Geralt, who is staring intently at Maylin now, concerned for her.

Maylin hesitates, but she doesn’t look away from Damian, “Leave.”

“No.”

Maylin’s eyes narrow, “You are picking a fight you can’t win.”

“But you wouldn’t kill me Maylin,” Damian says and takes another step forward, but is stopped by a sword aimed at his chest, and he raises his hands.

“Maybe when I used the other name, but now you are an annoyance that can be replaced,” Maylin says, and stands up straight and tall.

“You wound me,” Damian says, and sighs, “give my regards to Di--”

Maylin charges, blind rage flooding her as she comes at him, her hand bursting through the other side of his chest before he got the words out, and he spits blood up and laughs when she pulls her hand free and watches him fall to the ground.

“I knew you didn’t have a heart,” Maylin says, and turns to go inside, as Geralt watches the body turn to dust, and disappear int eh breeze.

Geralt quickly moves to follow Maylin inside, and gently touches her shoulder, “Maylin?”

Maylin shakes head to toe, and tears brim on her lashes, and without a word she collapses into his chest, and starts to sob. Geralt lets his sword clamour to the floor, to wrap her up in his arms, and stroke her hair, putting the pieces together himself.

[malepresentingleg]

This Is An Anti Anti Kira Post

Because you all need to chill.

I've seen people in this fandom say she's a b*tch, she's evil, she should be run over by a car, that they want to kill her, that she doesn't deserve a redemption arc, and that she's some sort of master manipulator!

I'll start with the last one, because before I watched the new episodes I've seen a few posts about how "once again" Kira manipulated TJ and ruined Tyrus.

People actually say she, with evil intent, manipulated him to join her on the swings… to ruin tyrus?

Kira had no idea of the swings' significant! She genuinely looked like she was having fun. Sure did she bait TJ and speakto his competitor side? Yeah! But that's just banter. And this is not unlike the Marty and Buffy banter you all like so much- would you say that's evil manipulation? And Buffy does it with Marty when he's actually dating someone else, not just crushing like TJ (I def don't think Buffy is manipulating Marty, it's all super harmless, but just to show you how absurd it is to call what Kira did manipulation.) No. Because Muffy is a ship you root for, and the Kira x TJ dynamic is in the way of a ship you root for.

Also with costume day. Yes, Kira was implying that TJ should rather hang out with her than with Cyrus and that was wrong of her (more on that later). But you all made her to seem like this giant rude homophobe who was threatening to out TJ. While in reality, Kira just said a few words, probably referring to how she's "cooler" than Cyrus (again, more on that later) and TJ is supposed to be cool. 

And TJ just really took it to heart. It really hit him in his insecurities. Ultimately, it was HIS choice to bail on Cyrus after he got him so excited for the costume. His choice not to let him know. Sure I understand WHY it happened. But you all act like, both here and with the swings, Kira has this magical powers and she forces TJ to do stuff he doesn't want to! She doesn't. TJ has his shit to deal with, and it's hard for him and a long process- which is why he makes all these mistakes and hurts other people. He still needs to own up to everything and deal with it, but I understand. I understand why he does what he does, and no, the excuse is not "because Kira made him" because this is not true.

Now what I promised to get back to - Kira's faults. Kira is a young girl who's very good at basketball and very confident about it. Buffy begged her to join the team who was really a mess, so Kira did, and really killed it. But she was also braggy about it and insulted the other players for being bad. Is that bad? Of course!! That's obviously not nice?? But I mean. She's literally a 14 year old girl. She boasts.

And then what? Buffy kicks her off the team for her attitude? In Kira's eye, that's really shitty and unfair. Buffy is being unreasonable and basically told her "sorry you're too bitchy for the team".

I will point out, in case it wasn't clear, that Buffy is obviously right and Kira's attitude really was a big problem. I just mean to say that for Kira's child mind it's obviously not fair and unjust and Buffy is The Bad Guy, so she also isn't the warmest to Buffy's best friend (aka last episode). If you hate someone, and a friend (TJ) tries to get you to hang out, it's understandable to have the fakest smile on. (TJ is just a dumbass for not picking up on it). It's not like she killed Cyrus's puppy! She didn't "steal" TJ away from him, or "forbade TJ from meeting up with Cyrus" (like I've seen in several fanfics). She just wasn't the most polite, which like i said, is understandable considering how she feels about Buffy, and like Cyrus pointed up himself- him being Buffy's best friend.

Two last points, and if you survived this far you might as well read them-

Remember Kira's position. She had just moved schools. She joined the basketball team which is her passion and then got kicked out. I imagine she doesn't have any friends and she's now missing out on her hobby. TJ doesn't 'look like he wants to be anywhere else' when he's with her like you all keep saying. It doesn't look like he's trying to 'escape'. They really genuinely seem to be having fun together playing basketball! And at the swings! TJ was reluctant because this place meant something to him (again, Kira didn't know that), but then they were both just KIDS, playing and having fun! TJ also doesn't have many friends after the whole gun thing, so it makes sense they'll get along. TJ never does anything to make her think he doesn’t want to be friends with her, so she isn’t “making him spend time with her”. I think her "motive" is really just being his friend and getting to play basketball with him (maybe she also wants to join the boys' team, but still not evil). I don't think her motive is to "get revenge on Buffy by making her bff sad".

I also want to specifically address the "she doesn't deserve a redemption arc" comment I saw. Because damn if that isn't crazy. The actions Kira did (not what her actions led to aka Cyrus being heartbroken, but her actual actions) were by far less bad than what TJ did to Buffy in season 2. Not to mention- SHE'S A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL!!! Of course she deserve redemption! It needs to be done properly, but it's not like she did some unforgivable thing to any of the characters!!! Only to you! The shippers!!!!!!! 

So I need you to think real deep why it's easier for you to believe TJ's (somewhat poorly executed) redemption than Kira's hopefully future one. Is it because TJ was gonna be part of a boy x boy (white) ship so Oh he's so soft! And Kira is in the way of this ship, which is the most evil thing a girl can do? Or maybe it's about how TJ is a white boy who hurt a black girl so no biggie , while Kira is a Mean Black Girl whose actions led to white boys' feelings being hurt? certainly not worth redemption right?

So like I said, you all need to chill and stop hating on Kira like she’s the devil because she really is not that bad and I hope she gets a proper redemption (I'll shortly make another post about my prediction for that) in the little time we have left.

That was another Controversial Rant About Andi Mack by Shir.

Check out the first and second one if you want more!

[lordflyers]

BODY. long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms.toned arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six-pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails.manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned butt. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. average waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet.average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

HEIGHT. shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm.181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

SKIN. pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

EYES. small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold. amber. hazel. other. doe-eyed. almond. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned.downturned.

HAIR. thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie-cut. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. mohawk. vermilion. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown .dark brown. jet black. ginger. auburn. dyed red. dyed any “unnatural color”. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS. full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand/finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo.

monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing(s). genital piercing(s). industrial piercings. earlobe piercing. prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing(s). tongue piercing. lip piercing(s). tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing(s). smiley. nape piercing(s). no piercings.

COSMETICS. light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lipgloss. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smoky eyes. colorful eyeshadow.blush. lipliner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears make up regularly. wears makeup from time to time. never wears make-up.

SCENT. floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo.cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee cake. mint. rawhide. chemicals.

CLOTHES. jeans. tight pants. over-the-knee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt. loose skirt.tight/formfitting dress. cardigans. blouse. button up shirt. band t-shirt. sports t-shirt.sweatpants. tank top. cut off t-shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. long skirt. miniskirt. maxi dress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. cocktail dress. high slit dress/skirt. t-shirt. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit. hoodie. harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hotpants. hipster.panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.  

SHOES. sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots.boots.cowboy boots. knee-high. platforms. bare feet. loafers.

TAGGED BY:  @weirdtongued TAGGING:    @protectxthem @revaler @biblicael @serpentineyes @sniperwithasmoke @dieuaile& you

[daltonc16]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: UNIVERSAL Thread flannel buffalo plaid check black white purple blu shir….

[arrowloosed]

BODY. long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. toned arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned butt. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. average waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

HEIGHT. shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm.181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

SKIN. pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

EYES. small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold. amber. hazel. other. doe-eyed. almond. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

HAIR. thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie-cut. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. mohawk. vermilion. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown .dark brown. jet black. ginger. auburn. dyed red. dyed any “unnatural color”. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS. full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand/finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo. i never decided on tattoos so i took this section out 

monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing(s). genital piercing(s). industrial piercings. earlobe piercing. prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing(s). tongue piercing. lip piercing(s). tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing(s). smiley. nape piercing(s). no piercings.

COSMETICS. light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick.lipgloss. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smoky eyes. colorful eyeshadow. blush. lipliner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder.matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears make up regularly. wears makeup from time to time. never wears make-up.

SCENT. floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire.lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla.coffee cake. mint. rawhide. chemicals.

CLOTHES. jeans. tight pants. over-the-knee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt.loose skirt. tight/formfitting dress. cardigans. blouse. button up shirt. band t-shirt. sports t-shirt.sweatpants. tank top. cut off t-shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie.long skirt. miniskirt. maxi dress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. cocktail dress. high slit dress/skirt. t-shirt. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit.hoodie. harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hotpants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather.velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.  

SHOES. sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. cowboy boots. knee-high. platforms. bare feet. loafers.

TAGGED BY:   @crowily TAGGING:  anyone

[strongwilltm-archive]

BODY.

long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. toned arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned butt. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. average waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips.wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

HEIGHT.

shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm.181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

SKIN.

pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

EYES.

small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold. amber. hazel. other. doe-eyed. almond. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

HAIR.

thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie-cut. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. mohawk. vermilion. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown. dark brown. jet black. ginger. auburn. dyed red. dyed any “unnatural color”. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS.

full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand/finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo.

monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing(s). genital piercing(s). industrial piercings. earlobe piercing. prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing(s). tongue piercing. lip piercing(s). tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing(s). smiley. nape piercing(s). no piercings.

COSMETICS.

light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick.lipgloss. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smoky eyes. colorful eyeshadow. blush. lipliner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears make up regularly. wears makeup from time to time. never wears make-up.

SCENT.

floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes.leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal.rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon.vanilla. coffee. cake. mint. rawhide. chemicals.

CLOTHES.

jeans. tight pants. over-the-knee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt.loose skirt. tight/formfitting dress. cardigans. blouse. button up shirt. band t-shirt. sports t-shirt. sweatpants. tank top. cut off t-shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. long skirt. miniskirt. maxi dress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. cocktail dress. high slit dress/skirt. t-shirt.loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit. hoodie.harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hotpants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.  

SHOES.

sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. cowboy boots. knee-high. platforms. bare feet. loafers.

TAGGED BY:   stole from @buhkybrns

TAGGING: @fireflybcy @naturallygood @strsinthesky @hepirates @spidcrwomen @lackspraise and anyone who wants to do it!!!

[brother-aldred]

Aesthetic: Aldred Stoker

BODY / long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs.muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned ass. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

HEIGHT / shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm to 150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

SKIN / pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

EYES / small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold amber. hazel. violet. doe - eyed. almond. close - set. wide - set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

HAIR / thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie - cut. short.shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. vermilion. mohawk. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown. dark brown. jet black. ginger. grey. auburn. dyed red. dyed any ‘ unnatural ’ color. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS / full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand / finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoobrand. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo. monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing. genital piercing. industrial piercings. earlobe piercing ( 2 ). prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing. tongue piercing. lip piercing. tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing. smiley. nape piercing. no piercings.

COSMETICS / light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lip gloss. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. neutral eyeshadow. smoky eyes. colorful eyeshadow. blush. lipliner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears makeup regularly. wears makeup from time to time. never wears makeup

SCENT / floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cheap deodorant. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee cake. mint. raw hide. chemicals.

CLOTHES / jeans. tight pants. over - the - knee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt. loose skirt. tight / formfitting dress. cardigans.blouse. button up shirt. band t - shirt. sports t - shirt. sweatpants. tank top. cut off t - shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. long skirt. miniskirt. maxi dress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. cocktail dress. high - slit dress / skirt. t - shirt. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit. hoodie. harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hot pants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.

SHOES / sneakers. slip - ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. cowboy boots. knee - high. platforms. stripper heels. bare feet. loafers. oxfords.

Tagged by: @dcus-in-absentia

Tagging: @zodiac-moth @brother-eilam @atpapasrighthand @mcrygooore @sage-cooper @keytar-queen

[psycho-slytherin]

The Tenor

A series of coincidences leads you to talk to the best singer in your choir.

Pairing: Singer!Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Genre: pure innocent fluff

Next ––>

|mlist|

“As soon as we get free time, we have to go take pictures, okay? I’ll actually die if I don’t have a photo against that specific wall. And once we’re out of the chaperones’ sights we can order wine! I love Europe, I swear, I’m literally never leaving...”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, Rena.”

“We need a group of at least three, right? I’m thinking you, me, and Taeyeon— oh, actually Hyuna’s joining us because she broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Didn’t she do that last week?”

“Yeah, but they got back together— you know her.” Rena looks like she’s about to say something else, but your guide claps his hands.

“Alright everyone, welcome to Venice!”

Your choir cheers, and you join in. You’ve been looking forward to this trip all year, and now you’re really in Italy with your choir, touring and singing in some of the most amazing churches in the world. “Anyone that wants to try a gondola, line up in groups of five,” the guide says. “Afterwards there’s free time and an optional glassblowing exhibit.” 

Glassblowing? Now that sounds interesting. You turn to tell Rena that much but she’s already looking around for a fifth group member.

“Jennie’s in a group already...” she whines, “Sunmi and Jeongyeon too, ugh!”

You’re sighing bemusedly when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see Taehyung, a baritone that you’ve always been friendly with but never close to.

“Hey, y/n, I was wondering if you have a group for the gondola ride?”

You smile widely. “Yeah, and we could use another person. Want to join us?”

Taehyung grins as you inform Rena of your new fifth member. Always the friendly ones, your friends welcome Tae with enthusiasm. The five of you pile into the gondola to which your guide has directed you and you end up wedged between Rena and Hyuna, with Taehyung across from you.

“Watch this,” Hyuna whispers, her plump lips brushing your ear before she speaks loud enough for the whole group to hear: “Hey, Tae!”

You have to give into your laughter: at Hyuna’s words, both Taehyung and Taeyeon turn around with expectant expressions. 

“Ahh, that was great,” Hyuna giggles, sitting back in satisfaction.

You worry that Taehyung will be annoyed by your friends’ teasing dynamic, but you see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes— he’s having as much fun as the rest of the group. The five of you banter easily, enjoying the ambience and beauty of Venice.

“Did you hear that?” Taeyeon cocks her head suddenly and points upriver, past the bored gondolier behind you. Listening intently, you make out the sweet melodies and harmonizations of a group of advanced vocalists— an exclusive subsection within the general choir.

“Are they in the boat behind us?” Rena asks, peering at the canal.

“They sound amazing,” Taeyeon whispers in awe, and you have to agree.

“How did they find their pitch?” You wonder aloud. The song they’re doing is complex and completely a capella— hence, it being an advanced song.

“I bet Jungkook is on that gondola,” Taehyung says, and the four of you nod in understanding: Jeon Jungkook is the choir’s golden boy and the only member of the choir with perfect pitch.

“No wonder they sound so good, if Jungkook’s there,” Hyuna sniffs. You want to think of a clever response, but you’re beyond mesmerized by the notes floating across the water. Like most of the songs in your set, the advanced vocalists are singing in another language and since it’s impossible to focus on the lyrics you settle for picking out individual voices: that clear, ringing voice is your fellow soprano Seulgi, and the throaty alto tone of Sunmi is easily recognizable. 

You have no clue who’s singing base or baritone because as soon as you focus on the impossibly flawless tenor voice, any other thoughts go out the window. You don’t know or care what the words are— the guy could be singing through a grocery list and you’d still be captivated... you snap out of your daze when Rena begins clapping. Is the song over already?

“Encore!” Taehyung whoops, and you hear the advanced vocalists talking as their gondola rounds a corner in the canal, at last coming into view.

“Shit, were we really that loud? I bet our gondolier hates us.”

“It’s fine, we sounded great.”

“We sounded like death, but maybe that’s just me.”

“Someone tell them to stop clapping, it’s embarrassing!” 

As the boat nears yours you see Seulgi waving wildly and next to her is Jungkook, the tenor with the enchanting voice. You and Jungkook haven’t run in the same social circles— despite sharing a class for three years, you’ve never spoken, and you’re quite certain that he’s unaware of your existence.

But you know of him. You’ll never forget that day in freshman year— your director was trying out guys one by one for a solo while the girls oooh’d as backup. You weren’t paying attention, just mindlessly holding your note when your director called on Jungkook to try out. Ten seconds after he began singing, your director needed to stop him because the backup had stuttered to a halt. Every single girl in choir, including you— and a fair number of the guys too— fell silent on hearing Jungkook’s voice. 

Within a minute you had developed a massive crush on him, but with a face and voice like his, Jungkook was impossibly out of your league.

“We’re not even playing the same sport,” you’d told Rena back then. “It’s more like he’s a star in the major leagues, and I sometimes trip over my own feet and call it exercise.” 

Your crush had faded quickly— you never spoke to him and it was hopeless anyways— but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering whenever you heard him rehearse his solo. There was something impossibly attractive about a voice like his. The gondola ride is over quickly and you join your classmates in crowding around the tour guide.

“Alright, guys,” the guide says once everyone’s settled down, “you have an option: follow me to see a Venetian glassblowing master at work— it’ll only take an hour— or go off on your own and meet back here in three hours. Remember, groups of three or more at all times.”

You feel a tug on your hand. “C’mon, I need to go take pictures,” Rena says, holding up her phone. “Model for me?”

“Oh, uh... I sort of wanted to see the glassblowing,” you say lamely.

“You need to be in a group of at least three,” Hyuna mentions, “and you don’t have three.”

“Sure she does.” You feel a pat on your head and turn to see Taehyung winking at you. “Let me return the favor. My group is gonna check out the glassblowing— wanna come?”

“Sure,” you reply quickly. Rena’s your best friend and you adore her but sometimes she can be a bit controlling, and you’re in Italy. You want to do all sorts of cool stuff, not just walk around and take photos. Tae ushers you away to join the others and you shoot an apologetic glance at your friend, who shrugs good-naturedly and flashes you a thumbs up. 

“The others”, as you discover once about thirty of your classmates have squished into the glass exhibition room, are Jimin, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You’re on good terms with Jimin and Namjoon and you have a great time whispering and snickering in between heavily accented lessons in the art of glass. 

You don’t talk to Jungkook— you figure he’s the quiet type, probably best left alone to muse about life’s great mysteries or how to make his voice sound even better. The demonstration ends and people quickly empty out, off to find lunch in the time they have left. You catch up to Taehyung.

“Mind if I tag along again?”

“For sure— not that we know where we’re going,” Tae replies, and the five of you set off in search of food.

“How about this place? It doesn’t look bad.” Jimin points eventually at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a hopeful-looking waiter. The five of you settle down, you and Jungkook across from Namjoon and Jimin, with Taehyung at the head. The waiter returns with water, but as you reach for your glass you somehow manage to knock over the heavy pepper shaker, which falls on your other hand with a dull thud.

“Ah, fuck!” You yank your hand away and cradle it, beyond embarrassed that you’ve already screwed up in front of your new friends. While you’re still inwardly cursing yourself, an unfamiliar noise startles you. Beside you, Jungkook’s shoulders are shaking with mirth. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

“It wasn’t that funny,” you tell him indignantly.

“No, I just— I didn’t know you swore,” he chuckles, and you realize with a start that it’s the first time you’ve heard his speaking voice.

But also... “You didn’t figure I could curse?” You’ve got the mouth of a sailor, anyone that’s met you would know that.

“Well, you’re always so shy and quiet,” Jungkook explains, and you gasp at him. He thinks you’re quiet? Your director has had to tell you to and your friends to stop chattering on numerous occasions. And Jungkook, the golden boy, the born singer, thinks you‘re quiet?

“It’s big of you to make so many assumptions when we’ve never interacted,” you say, growing miffed. “How many times have I said hello to you in the last three years? And how many times have you responded?”

You see Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “I...”

It’s a valid question. Choir always puts you in a good mood, and you get outgoing when you’re cheerful. The number of times you’ve said “Hiiiii, Jungkook” and “Kookie, you’re my favorite” is embarrassingly high. He’s never replied with anything more than a nervous laugh or an “okay”. 

As you watch Jungkook struggle to answer, you feel a smile spreading across your face. Have you two really never had a conversation? Why?

The conversation wanders, as conversations are apt to do, and you begin talking about your fellow choir members. “Did you see Nayeon literally wearing stilettos on the cobble street? How does she still have ankles?” you wonder aloud. “See, this is why I wear this stuff.” You pluck at your plain black T-shirt and utilitarian beige shorts. “I mean, I look like literal trash, but-”

“Wh-why...” Jungkook laughs again and you can’t for the life of you figure out what’s so funny. He’s got a cute laugh, though. “Why would you say that?”

“Say what? That I look like trash?” You giggle inwardly at Jungkook’s nod of disbelief.

“It’s called self-deprecation, hon,” you say, lacing your fingers together.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that about yourself,” he protests.

“Why? It’s funny and an unhealthy coping mechanism. Win-win.”

This time his laugh isn’t one of discomfort or shock, but rather a chuckle of fascination and amusement. Who’d have thought it, Mister Perfect is really growing on you.

You awake the next morning with a yawn— you and Taeyeon snuck over to Rena and Hyuna’s room after curfew last night to gossip, which was fun at the time but the choir is performing tonight and now you barely have the energy to make it through breakfast. Rena and Hyuna are already chattering when you join them.

Right when you’ve finished your toast and downed a pot of coffee, your director claps his hands.

“We’ve got a concert tonight, so bring your attire,” he says loudly. “We’re going to walk around Tuscany today. The bus ride is a few hours long, and we’re not coming back to the hotel, so bring your attire.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Taeyeon whispers.

“Because it is,” you reply.

You and Taeyeon are walking together to the bus after stopping by your room when a thought hits you.

“I’m an actual idiot,” you gasp. “Tae, go on without me, I’ll be right back.”

“What happened?”

“I forgot my attire,” you call over your shoulder, already running. You take the stairs two at a time, cursing yourself— you don’t want your director to call you out for being late to the bus. You burst into your room and grab your choir dress and shoes, hurrying back to the bus within seconds. The bus is nearly full when you get there, and Rena is already sitting with Hyuna and Taeyeon is sitting next to Jeongyeon and the only seat available is by... Jeon Jungkook. You approach him. “Is this seat taken?”

He moves his jacket off of the seat next to him in lieu of a response and you sit down quickly, so grateful you don’t have to do the awkward shuffle to find a seat. When your director is done lecturing on what proper tour behavior looks like, you pop in your earphones and put your show tunes playlist on full blast. An hour in, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You ignore it, sure it’s just Seokjin or Hoseok bothering you.

You feel another tap, this one more urgent. You look behind you in annoyance to find Seokjin and Hoseok asleep on each other. Then who’s...?

“Hey, I just wanted to mention,” Jungkook says, and his voice behind you makes you shiver. “You’re sort of singing out loud.”

You go red. “What? Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He snorts again and you roll your eyes. “Yes, I do swear,” you remind him. “Anyways, I’ll stop making noise now, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I liked that song.” He begins humming along, picking up where you left off, and once again you’re struck by the rich tenor voice. You carefully remove your earphones, drinking in the snippets of lyrics and his quiet smile and the way his chest rises and falls with each breath.

You realize you’re staring and Jungkook must realize it too because he clams up. “Well, anyways...” he mutters, clearly embarrassed, and you press your lips together. Jeon Jungkook gets shy?

“Here.” You offer him an earphone. “Do you like show tunes?”

“I love them,” he replies with a smile. “I remember the first day of freshman year— you walked into choir singing a song from Wicked.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “How do you remember that?”

He shrugs. “How was I supposed to forget the girl that was so unafraid of being herself?”

You feel your heart flutter at his words and you swallow thickly. Time to ease the tension, or you might actually fall for him. “All that, and you still think I was the quiet type?” You poke him in the shoulder with your earphone. “Now, I’m offering this once. Listen to music with me?”

He grins, and a hint of a dimple appears on his cheek. “Once,” he agrees, taking the earphone while you queue up your favorites. 

Once turns to twice turns to more than you care to count and it becomes a regular thing, you and Jungkook sitting side by side, heads bobbing and fingers tapping in unison, and on those rare moments when he begins to sing along you fall silent and let the music wash over you. 

Obviously he’s out of your league but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice feelings bubbling up every now and then— when he understands your fandom references, or takes your music recommendations to heart. You tease him relentlessly about his perfect pitch and reputation, and he in turn begins to loosen up with you. On the sixth day of the tour, he makes a self-deprecating joke and you nearly choke on your pizza.

“Did you just...?”

“Maybe I did.”

“Am I corrupting you?”

The next week you fall in line with Rena and Taeyeon as the group traipses to the Trevi Fountain. “Hey, girls!”

“Shouldn’t you be walking with Jungkook?” Taeyeon says with a wink.

“I sat on the bus with him earlier— plus, you know I miss y’all.”

“Oh, no!” Rena squeals. “We’re going to the Trevi fountain, the most romantic spot of Rome. Go walk with Jungkook! You know everybody ships you two,” she nudges you forward, where Jungkook is walking with Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon.

“Wh-guys!” You protest, your cheeks going red.

“You can’t walk with us,” Rena sings with a glint in her eye. “But I think Jungkook wants to talk to you.”

You sigh. “You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?”

“Nope!” Your friends chorus. You roll your eyes, increasing your speed to catch up with Jungkook and company. As soon as Taehyung spots you, you see him whisper something to Jimin and Jimin and they all melt into the crowd.

“What was that about?” You ask as you fall in step beside Jungkook.

The tenor sighs. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“My friends are ostracizing me, so...”

Jungkook laughs. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Your guide claps his hands, halting the group in a small plaza. “Alright gang, the Trevi fountain is just around the corner— home to iconic scenes, the most famous being Roman Holiday or that one episode of Futurama. The story goes that if you throw one coin in, you’ll return to Italy. If you throw two coins in, you’ll fall in love on this trip to Italy—“ here the choir oohs and shrieks— “and if you throw three coins in, you’ll come back and get married in Italy.”

“No one is throwing more than one!” Your director calls, and the group laughs.

“Want a coin?” You offer Jungkook as the crowd disperses. He looks like he’s going to say something, but instead nods and takes the coin, his fingertips lingering on your palm. There’s a tug on your heart, some crazy, stupid, impulsive longing to throw two coins into the fountain. Fall in love... on the choir trip? Pfft, how cliche. You shake your head and sit next to Jungkook on the edge of the fountain before throwing a coin over your shoulder.

“Just one, I see,” he teases, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“I’m not that powerful, Kookie. I don’t have a chance of falling in love— I don’t have your charm,” you reply, only half joking.

That night, you’re chilling in Rena and Hyuna’s room when your phone buzzes with a message. Hyuna swoops in and grabs it, shrieking excitedly at the notification: “it’s from Jungkook!”

“What?” You scramble forward, nearly falling off the bed in a bid to steal your phone back.

“Have you listened to Newsies?” Hyuna reads aloud. “Only a music recommendation? Ugh, boring.”

You snatch your phone away. “Y’all are the worst, you know that?”

“Love you, y/n,” Rena replies dreamily.

You look down at your phone and your heart skips a beat: Jungkook is typing. And then stops. And starts again. And stops again. You’re growing so antsy that by the time he actually sends a message, you nearly drop your phone out of surprise.

Jungkook: hey save me a seat tomorrow on the bus ok?

You rub your eyes and type out a reply: ofc, who else tolerates my love for Dear Evan Hansen? You think for a moment before sending a follow up: although if we keep sitting together I think people will talk

Another buzz.

Jungkook: people already talk

You barely have time to take a shaky breath before a second message arrives.

Jungkook: can I ask u something

Moral support, you need moral support. 

“Guys...?” You ask, your voice almost cracking from the tension. You know you’re overreacting, it’s only been two weeks, so why do you care so much about whatever he’s going to say? With your luck it’ll end up being, can you share your playlist? Do you have the sheet music? The girls crowd around you to read over your shoulder. “Wait, oh my god, wait, is he...?” Taeyeon squeaks excitedly.

“Shut up, shut up,” you implore, eyes locked on your screen. Once again Jungkook begins typing, stopping and starting multiple times, each time eliciting groans of frustration from your friends. “Ugh, never mind,” you throw your phone on the bed and faceplant onto Rena’s pillow, your heart thudding from anticipation.

“He’s typing again,” Rena says from behind you— how does she know your password?— “wait, he actually sent something this time... oh my god!” Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s probably something dumb, or maybe bad news: I heard people ship us and I think that’s awful, perhaps.

“Are you into me?” Rena reads aloud. “Y/n, what are you going to say?”

Oh, fuck. He really does want to set the record straight. “I-I don’t know.”

“What do you feel?” Hyuna urges. What do you feel? You feel flustered, so flustered when he accidentally brushes your hand or laughs in delight at something you’ve said. You feel delight at the conspiratorial whispers when you try to walk ahead or behind your small groups together, and the scandalized gasps when one of you spills the latest choir tea.

“I mean fine, maybe I like him a little,” you admit, to the shrieks of delight from your girlfriends. “But what if he’s asking because he doesn’t like me? I mean, it’s Jeon Jungkook! He could have literally anyone— I heard Nayeon had a crush on him last year— why the fuck would he like me?”

“You won’t know till you try.” Rena says, raising an eyebrow. “Tell him. And ask him, too.”

You take a deep breath and type out a response: Yes. Do you like me? You’re tempted to send a follow up, an apology, saying you don’t want to ruin your friendship with him, it’s okay if he thinks you’re weird, but you don’t get a chance before he responds.

Jungkook: Yeah. After these last few days, I really do.

A/N thank you for reading!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome and thoroughly appreciated. My inbox is always open, and I hope you enjoyed! (And if you didn’t, tell me anyways so I can improve!)