#nom: sound editing

[theoscarsproject]

Willow (1988). A young farmer is chosen to undertake a perilous journey in order to protect a special baby from an evil queen.

I can't believe I've never seen this before! What an absolute delight! Just oozes with charm and warmth, particularly in Warwick Davis' titular character. He brings so much to the role, and plays great as the heart to Val Kilmer's heft. I wish we still made original fantasy epics like this, and can't wait to introduce it to my nephews. 8/10.

[link-sans-specs]

😋😋😋

GMM2514

Frozen vs. Fast vs. Fancy Food Taste Test

[marisatomay]

okay i’m also mad that nope wasn’t nominated for like anything at the oscars as evidenced by by post about being mad that was being reblogged here but let’s not come for the one nominee that literally invented a whole new camera and new filming techniques to capture actors at supersonic flight at imax quality from the inside of a cockpit. you don’t have to like it to respect the amount of effort and ingenuity that went into the production.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

   "Hello, Si-"

  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

    "Where is your family?"

    "I'm sorry?"

   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

     "I must admit... a bit."

    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

    "Really?"

    "Mhm."

      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

      "Mingi—"

    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 

     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

    And he absolutely revels in it.

    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 

    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

    "If it is, we would be silly together."

     "You mean-"

    "Yes."

    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

   They share a look.

    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 

     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

      "Buck."

   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

   "That's what's gonna happen."

   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

     He puts a bullet in his brain.

     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

     And then all is silent.

    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 

     "What the hell was that, boy?"

     "That was me saving your ass."

༄

    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

     Because he was the gunner.

    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

    WANTED.

    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

    The door to the bar swings open.

   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

    "Mingi..."

    "Are you okay, Doll?"

   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

     They don't know that Mingi was the one.

     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

     "Why not?"

   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"

    "Too close."

    "Just give me my mon-"

       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

    It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

   Mingi is so deep.

   Mingi is so thick.

   Mingi fucks you so good.

   Mingi treats you so good.

   Mingi loves you.

   Mingi.

   Mingi.

      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

    "You did... but I liked it."

    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

     "Mrs. Song."

༄

[forbidding-souda]

if you haven't already, could you do mondo, kazuichi and hajime with a goth girlfriend who's very feminine? tyty <3

Mondo Oowada, Kazuichi Souda, and Hajime Hinata with a very feminine goth girlfriend

I looked through my masterlists bc i thought already wrote one and that i wrote hella goth fics but appareantly it's only 2 so I'm tweaking. here you go anon ily here.

might be repetitive but who caresss

thumbs up emote

Sorry if it's underwhelming, I didn't realize how short it was until I read it over this morning. Highkey was high when I wrote the small scenario parts and the bold text. [next day, afternoon edit: wtf was i talking about this shit long ash LMFAO]

-Mod Souda

Mondo Oowada

❤ Perfect. Perfect for his aesthetic. Perfect for the atmosphere his home presents and you're such a perfect doll to great him at the gate of Hope's Peak every day. People are only surprised to know you two are together because of the fact that he pulled such a baddie. He'll wrap an arm around his shoulder and tell anybody who makes a comment to fuck off. He can pull. Duh. He's got you. But it's hard for anybody to take him seriously when he'll melt at the sound of your laugh.

"If you get your fucking," he wipes his cheek, "lipstick on me one more time." "You're going to what?" He stares down at his hand, the black lipstick smeared on the back of it from his touch. His cheek is stained. It's going to look ridiculous (but not as much as post-smear). His eyes hold a glare that's more intense than if you had just cursed at him. "Nothin'." Once again, he wipes his cheek, smearing it more. "Don't do that shit again." You in fact do that shit again.

❤ Don't get your makeup on him. It ruins his masculinity. His gang makes fun of him when he rides with black lipstick on his face, forehead to chin.

❤ On the back of a motorcycle in all black with heeled shoes brrr brrr.

❤ Yeah but tuck those necklaces in.

❤ And omg he's going to steal some of your hairspray sorry but he will. Whether you mind it or not. He's going to do it.

❤ + your over-the-top makeup yesss the both of you attract so many stares.

❤ I imagine people would want to take pictures of you two. He'd fucking hate it but you're like yes of course!!!!

❤ He tries to avoid main cities anyway as much as he can anyway.

.

Kazuichi Souda

❤ Worships you like it's nobodies business. You look just like a dream. The prettiest girl he's ever seen. From the cover of a magazine. Literally that fr. He's that obsessed with you. He's the type to carry you over a sewer grate so you don't get your heels stuck in it. He helps you tie your corsets and he'll buckle your boots for you. He'll kiss your neck whenever you're leaned over the bathroom counter doing your makeup. His intimacy is acts of service, but only for you. He'd do anything for you.

"Kazuichi?" You call from your bedroom. In the early morning, he's in the living room watching TV. At the sound of your call, your tone mildly concerned, he stands without hesitation. But you weren't in danger or anything. You were just having a hard time buckling your bra. Once he opened the door, you glance over. "Do it for me." It was more of a command than a request. "W-Woah there," he laughs nervously, taking a few steps at a time. "Sure, yeah. Sure thing." With no sign of the internal fluster, he hides the urge he gets to just stare at your half-covered chest like it were glowing. He steps behind you, focusing his eyes on your shoulder blades before strapping on the second hook of your bra. You had only managed to get one in. "There you go, gorgeous." You hum, a small smile on your face. "Thank you." Looking over your shoulder at him, you see his composure and how it changed drastically while you weren't looking. His cheeks were pink and his eyebrows were furrowed with distress. "Yeah," he says breathlessly, finally getting a look at your chest. "Anytime."

❤ Lord knows he just wants to gobble you whole like om nom nom.

❤ Yes he does the cooking yes he does the cleaning.

❤ He's your malewife.

❤ It makes sense to me somehow that he would be with somebody who's hyper-feminine. It's a good match.

❤ I'm in between the thought that he'd either make goth girlfriend jokes or hate them. I feel like he'd hate seeing memes about it bc it makes him feel like they're about you specifically. Bc you're HIS girlfriend. HIS.

❤ Shows you off.

❤ You'd probably be taller than him in some of your shoes.

❤ You'd get along with his classmates hella.

❤ And he'll give you the cutest pet names. Enchantress, spider, might call you evil as a tease.

.

Hajime Hinata

❤ You're both each other's scary dog privileges. With his glare and your outward appearance, it makes you two completely unapproachable. Hangouts in the dark of night have never been safer. You don't have to be scared of shit. He's here, and you're here. Fair's fair. There's not a person in the world that would want to bother you, and the fear of annoying you breaks any onlookers confidence. Plus, you're gorgeous, and it's threatening.

"Press this button to jump." He handed you the controller, and now he's practically leaning over you as he places his hands over your own. "I got it Hajime." "Just making sure." When you try and hone in on the button, your nail gets in the way. You smile to yourself before outstretching your finger to place the pad of your finger on it, your fingerprints practically sticking to it as you press down hard. But your nail had reached the button ahead of it, grazing down, lifting a bit upwards. Your face scrunches up at the sensation. "Uhh, are you alright?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed but smiling with adoration. "I'm good," you chuckle. "Beauty is pain."

❤ I see him as not gaf or being overly appreciative of the fact that you're goth. It's just your style. Nothing to get handsy over.

❤ He does like uniqueness tho and ofc you're the embodiment of that.

❤ Fucking hates when tourists want to take a picture though because they'll exclude him. I imagine tourists are the people that would walk up to you, locals not so much.

❤ Literally those memes of goth girlfriend with plain gamer boy.

❤ He can work an all-black wardrobe though.

❤ He looks a bit alternative just naturally. So replace those white button-ups with a black one and bam. You'll match.

[junespriince]

Me when Jay post nirvana au,,,, or any drawings be like:

*throws up on page* here

[northescere]

haikyuu!! as things my friends and I have said

Some of these were edited a little to make more sense in Haikyuu context :]

Tendou: Coach Washijo has to let us summon Satan in the middle of practice.

•••

Atsumu: Why v@pe when you can suck watermelon lollipops? •••

Terushima: You cannot aggressively beat the Camila Cabello out of me •••

Shirabu: Some people should be shot, but some people get to be president again, ha ha ha.

•••

Tendou: My insanity would probably be the most potent drug in the world

•••

Oikawa: I’m a homosexual, heheheheheh

•••

Nishinoya: See, you can achieve greatness even with short legs

•••

Tendou: Arson is good. It’s a great pastime. Like, bored? Go burn down a building!

•••

Hinata: BYE DAICHI-SAN

Daichi: I’m not for sale

•••

Shirabu: I feel like a spear went through my head right here (points to middle of forehead) and came out at the back here

Tendou: I’M A UNICORRRN

•••

Ukai Keishin: (spectating Karasuno antics) Some people end up in the zoo

•••

Kageyama: (on the way to the training camp) oh my god I will EAT the next traffic light that turns red

•••

Semi: What about you? Don’t you say that you eat children?

Tendou: I mean I do but that’s different because I’m a human

•••

Nishinoya: ROLLING ON THE FLOOR GOING FERAL CRUNCHING ON THE FLATSCREEN TV LIKE A MEIJI CRACKER

•••

Ushiwaka: I am at Daiso. Need anything?

Tendou: sanity 

•••

Sakusa: Are you fucking dumb?

Atsumu: Yeah, how’d ya know?

•••

Tanaka: I’LL KILL YOU ALIVE— oh wait crap I made myself sound stupid again

•••

Yaku: one more time Lev makes a height joke will rip off all of his hair and then shout ‘WIG SNATCHED’ really loud

•••

Tendou: I’ll bring you on a date night in Paris

Ushiwaka: what?

Tendou: what?

•••

Kyoutani: I have this urge to bite people. But not in a sexual way, just NOM

[factual-fantasy]

28 asks! Thank you very much!! :}} ✉️

(Referencing this post)

I was thinking that the world of welcome home and the human world both exist, but they aren't connected by a TV show. :0 The puppet world is very real to them and they are real living people. The thing is is that there's no TV show of welcome home, that's just their lives-

Eddie is from our world/the human world. Which is where his hallucinations of having 5 fingers and human skin comes from-

@candyglumboy (Referencing this post)

Midori is my Meowscarada! :0 He's friends with Grim and Sylvester :))

(Referencing this post)

XDD Just a playful NOM

@fawncr33k

Yes yes! I screenshot them :00 I then paste them into FireAlpaca and add the watermark :) 👍👍

@bellanova137 (Referencing this post)

Oh!- In my AU Eddie was one of the most recent neighbors :00 this was his first time at the yearly Christmas party because it was the first one he was around for! <XDD

Thinking he moved in sometime right after Christmas last year. Which gave him and Frank a good year to get to know each other and be on first name basis :0 Which is why Frank doesn't call him Mr. Dear in my comic! :)

(Of course present day is a few years after this comic--)

Oof, yeahhh that was a comic script that I went to edit but accidentally posted- 💀

Thank you for the name suggestions though! I still haven't decided on what it'll be <XDD

XDDDD Hurray!! (Sorry!!--) I hope you enjoy your stay in the fandom! :DD

Also thank you so much!!! :)) I'm so glad you've liked my artwork!! :DDD

It would be watching anyone that repaired it :00

There was actually an idea that back when Barnaby was going to be the second ever neighbor in the neighborhood.. he almost bought home and restored it himself. The reason why he didn't though is because Home was just too small for him. The front door was too short, he'd have to duck though every doorway and the ceilings were too low..

Why would he wanna spend all this time and money on fixing up an old house that's too small.. when he can just spend that money on buying whatever lot he wants and building a house that actually fits him? So that's what he went with..

But if Barnaby had bought home and fixed it up. it's be the same thing as Wally... weird insomnia, anxiety attacks.. feeling like you're being watched while you sleep... etc..

As for their world, I only really had the forest surrounding the neighborhood in mind. Its a HUGE forest that goes on for miles and miles. I haven't decided how far away Julies sisters/brother live but I should really work on them 💀

As for Home, so far Home is the only creature of its kind :0 none of the other houses are alive and it stands as the only strange entity around the neighborhood.

And when it comes to neighborly mysteries and secrets, so far Eddie being human and Julie's secret past is all i got <:///

Oh yeah for sure! My Barnaby is much more mellow than in canon it seems- in my AU he doesn't butt heads with Julie at all! :0 In fact she's a really good friend of his. She has some pretty flat jokes but Barnaby appreciates her attempts and they usually get a genuine laugh out of him XDD

As for Frank, its like a SpongeBob and Squidward situation. They just have different personalities and different senses of humor.. and that's okay! Barnaby likes to crack some stupid jokes to kind'a poke at Frank for the fun of it, but he never goes too far. And the jokes are never personal or insult his interests. They're just really dumb jokes that make Frank roll his eyes XDD

At the end of the day, Barnaby considers Frank to be his friend. And Frank would never admit it, but he sees Barnaby as his friend too :)

I had a very small brain moment and only realized just now that I cut out the askers name by accident 💀 my bad!

Also hey these names aren't too bad! <XDDD Abaolson sounds kind'a cool in my opinion! :00

Oh- well actually I'm only doing Pokémon from the Unova region with a handful of exceptions. So I don't have to worry about Gyarados, Milotic or Onix. At least for now :00 I might make an exception for Gyarados.. so when it comes to long snakey Pokémon I have Serperior and Eelektross to worry about..

As for Ninjask, I imagine I'll do something similar to what I did with Chandelure :00

@glitchhayden418

WHOMPST??

(In response to this post)

AAA YES YES! :DD A "I thought I lost you/I could have lost you" hug!! AAAA I'm so glad that translated well! :))

And actually- I began sketching out the comic 👀👀👀 although I got hung up on the battle scene and need to go back for some resketching 😅

(In response to this post)

Well of course! :D Angst isn't fun if there's no comfort 😌

@littlemisspostit

ESKJFOSIJFIOSJ HYUCKS??? THATS THE BEST THING EVER XDDD

Upon googling him, maybe I could! :0 Maybe he could be a friend of one of the neighbors that lives a few neighborhoods over?

@viennaarttt (The post in question)

Ohhh I see! :0 That was a joke post mostly <XD But if it did happen I can see Barnaby hanging up and calling back to try to wake up Wally 💀

Awwe <:)) This was very sweet, thank you.. I'm getting a lot of comments saying that people liked my old Gravity Falls stuff. Its helping me feel a bit better about all of it <:)

I will probably keep those posts privated for my own comfort,, but now with no worry of people finding my old artwork,, it clears the way for potential NEW Gravity Falls artwork! :0 This time with better written angst <XDDD

@danman22ful

I've watched all of Markpliers videos on it! :D And I gotta say its.. well its something that's for sure! <:D Its refreshing to see a character with both parents living and in a loving relationship ngl- I feel like I never see that nowadays <XD

I searched around for a bit and couldn't find much info on this actually <:0 I saw a Wally with red hair and a blond Frank..? Is this like an opposite personality's AU..?

@famouslysleepy

In my AU Frank and Eddie are just friends :0 mostly because I don't like writing romantic stuff for characters that aren't my own.. plus exploring platonic bonds is much more interesting to me :)

As for Eddie and Home, this comic shows a bit of Eddies problem with it- just like Wally he has the blood chilling feeling of being watched by something..

And even after the party, going near Wally's house makes Eddie feel uncomfortable and anxious.. its just all a matter of feeling you're being watched by something or someone..

XDD If I had a had a nickel for every time someone told me they were shocked to find out I'm in a fandom they love,, I'd be rich!

Also thank you!! :DD I'm glad you liked it! :DDD

aw <XD well this is bitter sweet to read since I've privated most of my Gravity Falls stuff.. but its nice to hear that you enjoyed it all <:) Thank you!

I use FireAlpaca, its in my FAQ in my pinned post! :0

I'm actually hearing bad things about it believe it or not- talks about Ford acting super out of character and what not.. My curiosity is peaked 👀

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Fatherly Advice

This is the next installment of the Severe miscalculation story line. Which starts here.

If you'd like the chapter this one is a direct sequel to. Click here.

Tag List: @kit-williams @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @sleepyfan-blog @egrets-not-regrets

Warning: My Best descriptions of eating sounds which might be gross to some.

Gonna try to do shorter inserts to speed up the output for this story. Some nice downtime happening as Khopesh gets to have breakfast with his father, and get some advice.

Edit! Next Chapter Here!

"VADA!" Slam! The house rattled as the excited Nightlord barged in, and slammed the door behind him. Drawn by both the scent of cooking food and the presence of his adopted father.

"Boy! I told you not to be slamming that do-OR!" The portly elder gentlemen said firmly before he found himself in a bear hug of titanic proportions.

He was just as suddenly, but gently placed down back in front of the stove where many delicious items sizzled away with a painless "Oof."

"Sorry Vada," Khopesh responded gleefully, still buzzing on the excitement of the recent events which kept the scolding from even Slightly dampening his mood.

Gary righted and composed himself, he figured he'd never fully get used to his adopted son's ability to pick him up like he weighed as much as a tin tea cup.

"Well just you remember, we already had't replace that door once, and you giv'n the repair man's Imperial Fist the skunk eye didn't help nothin." He emphasized turning back to the cooking food.

"Pfft! Sons of Dorn shouldn't make themselves so easy to Teeeeease then." Khopesh chortled in reply, sliding into his usual spot at the breakfast table, now dressed in comfortable lounging clothes.

"And speaking of teasin, I seem to be missing one of the fish I was cooking up." Gary turned pointedly.

Khopesh had the tail sticking out of his mouth. "Hm?-Ulp! CRUnCh! CrUnCh! CruNCh!" He chewed and swallowed his ill gotten gains quickly before opening his mouth wide.

"Ah...Nothing to see here~"

Gary noted he would probably also never get used to his son preferring to eat fish, bones and all. But he did love how the crazy bastard could make him laugh with disbelief. "Well Dammit son, at least let me finish cookin it! Last thing we need is you sick as a dog cause you swallowed a fish parasites and all!" He chuckled before returning to cooking.

"My stomach has handled worst Vada." Khopesh assured with pride, picking at the bits stuck in his teeth.

"Well sink your teeth into these for a bit, till the rest of the meat gets done." Gary placed down a huge stack of enhanced pancakes in front of the Nightlord who bobbed excitedly in his chair (custom made to hold his weight).

Khopesh did exactly as instructed and began tearing into the stack with vigor! Pancakes with Nutripaste mixed into the batter was his favorite as it not only tasted good but could actually sustain him.

He sliced huge chunks of the mound of fluffy, buttery, syrupy goodness and shoveled the pieces into his ravenous mouth.

And whenever he became thirsty he greedily downed gulps of the the orange juice from the pitcher on the table. As it actually was large enough to serve him like a mug.

"HOMF! NOM! MM! GuULP! SLURP! Mmm!" He must have been more famished than he realized.

That was a lie he always got a little too eager about food. But could you blame him?? Nothing but nutripaste and rations and the occasional corpse...sometimes also turned into nutripaste and sometimes not. (War meant you had to use what you had, and Nightlords were many things but they were Never, wasteful.)

He wondered if his Lullaby would enjoy pancakes like these. Or maybe would be willing to learn how to make them? Then he could get double the amount of treats and they could eat them together.

His mind drifted to his cute little lullaby in an apron...and not much else. Cooing at him as they held a fork up to him so he could take a bite.

"Mmm!"

He hummed happily as he took another bite from his real plate to match the scenario he was imagining. He felt blush creeping up his cheeks.

"That good ey?"

"Ulp!" Khopesh's blush turned embarassed at being so easily distracted, almost dropping his fork. "Ah of course! They are very good Vada!" Khopesh assured, just barely catching the metal tool in his hand after some fumbling.

Gary paused. "Something tells me that's not the Only thing you're thinkin about."

Khopesh felt himself sweat a bit, he knew human Astarte relations weren't...always looked on kindly, but how would his Vada even know?? "Ahhh...not sure what you mean Vada..."

"Boy I have been married for 38 years," The old southern mechanic replied dryly. "You think I don't recognize when a fella finally got himself a dance partner? If you know what I mean." Gary stated pointedly over his coffee cup.

"Also, you got a hicky on ya lip."

"WHAT!?" Khopesh swiveled over to the cabinet of knickknacks, trying to see his reflection in the glass.

He indeed...had a hicky...on his lip.

Curze dammit.

He turned back, awaiting the judgment of his father.

But none came. The old man just smiled knowingly, sipping his coffee and eating the bacon that'd just come of the griddle.

"You're not upset?"

"Well...I do owe Nancy 20 bucks. But as long as ya'll are being safe, it's technically non'a my business." He shrugged. "Honestly...I'm happy ya'll both stopped dancin around eachother. I thought for sure it'd be another year before ya'll finally got in step."

Again, Khopesh was dumbfounded by his father's spot on deduction. "How did you know-"

"Again son, married for 38 years, And dated for 5." Gary reiterated. "And they way ya'll banter, ya'll were well on your way to where Nancy and I were at datin year 2. But I Will say this." The old man's tone became serious, and he leaned in.

"I've known that child since they were Lit'rally a child, saw them grow into a fine person. Anybody, would be lucky to have them on their arm..."

Khopesh waited with baited breath.

"So if hear bout you goin and breakin their heart, there won't be a force on this earth that'll save ya, and that's if I get to you before Nancy can wring your neck herself."

Khopesh blanched but could tell his father was Dead serious. "I Would Never Vada!" He swore standing and placing his hands firmly upon the table.

They were His! HIS sweet Lullaby! That was small but smart and witty and kind and brave and- and...

And he would do Anything, to keep that warmth alive.

Gary smiled. Adopted or not, his son had a conviction like he and his wife. He nodded in approval. "You take good care of em' then."

Khopesh's thoughts drifted to the plan he'd formulated to take care of that...lingering issue. The only thing keeping him and his Lullaby from having a truly peaceful life together. He grinned.

"I will Vada. I promise you." In fact he felt like going over right now. He wanted to make sure his precious was alright. He strod towards the door.

"Now hold on son! Get back here and finish ya food before it gets cold."

Oh whoops! He forgot he still needed to finish breakfast. "Ah right! Sorry Vada."

[khoipyan]

romantic floyd headcanons pt.2

don’t you think it’s time to turn your attention to him for a while?

warnings; no major ones, romantic obviously, gn!reader (lots of you/your)

notes; i freaking love floyd leech. also i should start proofreading g my work tbh

floyd leech

"hey hey, this reminds me of you!"

and it's a random rock. anything he sees reminds him of you if it interests him (or he just happened to be thinking of you while looking at that item) .

lovingly throws paper balls with cheesy little love notes all over them right at the back of your head, and it makes it easier for him since he sits directly behind you. although, floyd's gotten in trouble for this before, usually when his aim misses.

a pencil drop was all it took for this to start. as you bent down to pick it up, you noticed something brush past the back of your head. err, there was nothing as your hand instinctively touched your head. what was that?

it seems you zoned out a bit too much while under the desk, because when you finally sat up, all you heard were love declarations... cheesy ones at that. wait, that sounds a bit too much like floyd-talk, but that wasn't his voice— your eyes widened at the realization that the TEACHER was reading a note that floyd had mistakenly thrown past your head when you bent down. you could feel every eye prying into your skull as you sunk down into your seat, heavily embarrassed.

floyd on the other hand, is unbothered and amused. everybody gets to know he loves you SOOO much, so what's wrong? why're you sinking into your seat like that? he knows the answer, but it's still humorous to see you so bashful.

i firmly believe that floyd is into arts and crafts, especially when he's in one of his productive moods! if he's feeling high-effort, romantic and craftsy, he'll make you a bouquet made of blue-purple-green paper flowers. maybe he'll even go as far as colouring the paper with watercolour to give it an 'in-depth' feel.

forces you to match outfits with him whenever you two go out together (usually on weekends). he's always had an eye for fashion, why not spread it to you too? it doesn't have to be too fancy, it could even be matching hoodies! although, he'd be ecstatic if you considered those pinterest-aesthetic outfits!

wants you to visit mostro lounge. one, it makes him more willing to finish up his work so that he can sit with you! two, he gets to stare at you absentmindedly as he makes drinks. three, why not? he'll even sneak you a few coupons if you want.

floyd wants to squeeze you REALLY hard, until you pop! not in a bad way, just the most loving way possible. however, he refrains from this as he still wants you around.

instead of squeezing you in the vigorous way that he imagined, he resorts to picking up and spinning you around.

please hug him back... unless you're not into physical contact at all (which he'll try to deter himself from being touchy around you), he expects you to wrap your arms around him in return. c'mon, he doesn't bite (kind of).

likes to give his biggest smile around you. floyd's teeth are sharp for a reason, but if you poke at his lips he'll gently nom your fingers. not enough to hurt, just enough for the feeling of pressure on your finger(s).

actually, if he's in the middle of screaming something and you cover his mouth his your hand, there's a good chance he'll lick it. gross, but hey, he needs to talk!

floyd loves you and will continue to display his affection each day, let’s just hope you can do the same for him.

— due to be edited at anytime —

[4th-make-quail]

Big Bang anon here! I was just looking for some challenging event to participate this winter, and wanted to know your opinion because you have a lot of fandom experience! And YES I also noticed that a lot of Big Bang challenges currently are like "minimum word count is 5k words", and no shade to mods but that's not a challenge skdjdhdjl

Do you have a favorite fandom event type? Care to share your best fandom event experience?

Good morning nonny! Ahhh I see, okay I getcha!! There are quite a few longer word count fandom exchanges if you're into those, but the winter ones are already well in progress iirc!

One good place to check for events like this is fandom calendar on dreamwidth - people advertise their stuff on there regularly (no need to make a dw account to look at it either).

If you want a longer event, I have a few friends who do the three longer minimum word count exchanges and they have fun, so here they are;

- Fic in a Box (fiab): a fanwork exchange with a large minimum gifting requirement and several unique features - this one is complicated, so check out the comm link! Unfortunately this one is well and truly over now, but it's there for next year - schedule is around August to September!

- Five Figure Fandom Exchange (fffx or fandom 5k): a multifandom gift exchange for fanfic of 10,000+ words, and for comics of least 10 pages or at least 40 panels. Currently ongoing, but there are pinch hits in need of picking up! Deadline is January 18th, so if you can write a pinch hit fandom, you could try that!

- High Adrenaline (previously Heart Attack): two weeks to write 10k (or draw a 25-panel, 10-page comic) and one week to edit. Noms open in January!

Completing all three of these makes you eligible for Triple Crown, which is a prize raffle for all three of these 10k exchanges.

For the next few months, most people will be doing Yuletide which I've talked about a bit here before, but it has a 1000 word minimum so might be of less interest to you if you wanted a challenge. Pinch hits for yuletide are being posted here this year, but there aren't any available rn, and as yuletide is for rare fandoms, ymmv as to how possible this is for you anyway.

The next thing I will personally be participating in is Candy Hearts, which is a valentines day themed low word count (300 words) exchange, schedule usually starting with noms in December. This replaces chocolate box which used to run at the same time, and it's really fun!

Others I usually do regularly:

- Seasons of Drabbles: new to me but very fun, has a new round every season! For strict drabbles specifically, currently in its autumn round so there will be a winter one to come I imagine!

- Goreswap: an exchange for gore etc, with genre type tags to pick. Schedule starts with noms in January usually! Not one I've done, but I have friends who love it and do it every year.

- Phoenix Down Exchange: my own full Final Fantasy franchise exchange, set to start noms in Feb as last year

- Rarepair Exchange: as it sounds, for rarepairs! Check the comm for definition of minimum fics required to be eligible. Usually starts around April

- Rare Male Slash Exchange: as rarepair ex above, but for m/m ships only and again with specific minimum fic number eligibility. This is older than rpe, but as it tends to run on a similar schedule (noms in May last year) I've not done it for the last two years

- Relationshipping: for incest ships! The last round was July to August, but it conflicted with other fan stuff for me so I didn't do this for a bit as well. Run by some very good people

Some others I know about from my exchange crew participing but have never personally done: kids come first (underage themed), consent issues (dub/noncon themed), trauma exchange (as the name suggests), trick or treat (complicated, I think halloween theme?? Unsure), nonconathon (dub/noncon, but with very fun freeform tags to pick and nominate), and then there are usually a hell of a lot of flash exchanges around as well, which run on quick turnarounds - you could try joining the Exchanges After Dark discord server, which is an 18+ nsfw server for exchanges. It's very big and has a channel for every exchange, so the best thing to do is mute them all apart from what ur interested in ime! It also has a fandomcalendar rss feed channel which could be relevant if u wanna see what's coming up!

As for your second question, my favourite fandom event experience is probably Unconventional Fanworks Exchange, which is unfortunately didn't run last year and I'm not sure if it will again 😭😭 its an exchange for, well, unconventional fanwork mediums, and I've had so much fun challenging myself in the two rounds I've participated in! They had things like newspaper articles, in universe academic documents, blueprints, paper dolls, all sorts! I'm hoping someone might take it over tbh, if the mod can't run it again.

Also, this year I did Small Web September for the first time and had sooo much fun! It's for working on any smallweb projects you might have; personal sites, neocities, coding etc. and it had a really great vibe, plus it was super fun seeing everyone's smallweb projects! Very inspiring!!

This ended up very long, but as u can see I am very passionate about these things! I run my entire fannish calendar around exchanges mixed with event weeks and I find it very rewarding - I'm always happy to introduce anyone to exchanges and talk through how to participate etc. so anyone can ask me about this at any time!

[theoscarsproject]

Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988). When a cartoon rabbit is accused of murder, he enlists the help of a burnt out private investigator to prove his innocence.

This is just so much better than it has any right to be. Such a terrific homage to Hollywood subgenres - animation and noir - that work together in unexpectedly perfect ways. This was magic to rewatch. 9/10.

[obscureother]

self insert ref sheet

this is one of two self-inserts I have. They use xhe/she/they, so don't worry too much about pronouns. She's pretty flexible, nonbinary probably Demigirl or fem leaning something.

this is Moe. I'm exposing her/me, as she's been a pretty known OC of mine amongst my friends and family, but I figure. . ill prolly be ok. whatre they gonna do? goof on me for liking old men? i goof on myself for the old men i would love on.

She would be one of those "well she looks like any other brunette neko/fox girl" things, except she's fockin' GREEN. so that's why I never showed her before.

🌑

For the quick version of lore or things:

once only referred to as "s/i 1" but now exposed or known as Moe with tag:

🌑 obscure s/i: 🦊

fox alien

nonbinary (xhe/she/they)

oc/self-insert combo

shapeshifter (to some extent)

fire powers woosh 🔥

minor healing (lick your wounds om nom)

gets hooked up with all the f/os, even the worst ones

The Baby™ of the group (but she's really 20 y.o. yall.)

🌑

For the long version of lore or things:

Moe is an extraterrestrial. She looks simple yes, and she kind of is visually. I made her years n years ago in junior high, there's a whole story to how she exists, but basically I saw fox girls (like the nekos but foxes, i never remember their names. . not kitsunes, but??) when I was small and I thought they were cute, so there she is. She's a fox-girl alien thing. She shapeshifts and has a lot of kooky abilities, like minor healing, fire elementalism, and sounding like a M a n . She has weird vocal chords that give her a wide variety of fox noises but she can also mimic people and instruments n stuff. She does fox stuff too. No she doesn't shit sparkles out her butt, I just thought it would look cool on the ref for the time being.

Their eyes aren't really that big btw lmao, i just goof on them because they got the big brown eyes look most of the time. truly "🥺??" moment. They have normal size eyes lolol.

They have other forms, I just didn't draw them here. The other one they use sometimes is just called "anthro," which is just your basic fursona-lookin' thing with the same colors n all of their fox form. Their forms, however, can only stray from some kind of fox monster so much and they don't work like normal shape-shifting i dont think. theyre goofed.

Moe wasn't entirely made for selfshipping. I was too young to know what that was, but she is kind of an oc/self-insert hybrid. She's very adaptable given her lore can land her anywhere, so she doesn't have one universe she's "canonically" in. She goes wherever I want her to go. But because of that, she evolved a lot of lore and alternate versions/outcomes of her life including those where I was like "fictional person go brr" and threw her in there.

They do have relations to s/i 2 (who ill edit onto this post later sometime, they'll be revealed later.) Consider her their "younger sister" or something.

They go with all of my f/os, unlike s/i 2 who only really gets shipped with or interacts with a couple of them.

yes, you technically saw them once on some 🌑 buck the crocodile 🐊 posts, but she wasn't colored so i didnt worry about her then.

🌑

one could ask questions of or for her if you want to, tho. she's got lots of lore to get into if you care to read of them. that goes for s/i 2 when they come out too. there you go tho, one of the self-inserts for the obscure.other.

[merelyroleplayers]

Now playing in the Main House

Act Four of Five: Test your smoke alarms and check your boiler regularly. Otherwise your home can really hurt you.

Coming next on 26 November – Vigil: Tailor Made, Act 5

Programme notes

This production contains strong language, drug use, gunfire, and gory fantasy violence.

Meet actual play podcasters and see some live recordings at the Dragonmeet PodcastZone in London on 30 November.

Back the Slayers Survival Kit and Hunter’s Journal, two new Monster of the Week books.

Luvvie alert! We simply must introduce you to OMEN Investigations, a comedy horror podcast starring three secret agents as they travel the world fighting monsters, ghosts, aliens and other paranormal perils.

Dramatis personae and other definitions

Peggy Tailor: The prodigal daughter of a local family that dabbles in fey frolicking and organised crime, back in town to lay low after a grift gone horribly wrong.

Calistarius Softbinding: A local horror writer with a cult following, who sponsored the construction of a whole new wing of Sherrydown’s library. Calistarius Softbinding is a nom de plume.

Ed Kincaid: A once promising, now disgraced MI5 agent assigned to investigate the more … esoteric threats reported to the national security hotline.

Jinny Greenteeth: Proprietor of the Grove of Oddities, a tacky Sherrydown tourist attraction. In a past life, Jinny was branded a witch after a series of drownings in her Lancashire village.

Department of Omissions (DO, DoOm): The UK government department tasked with preventing harm to citizens from supernatural phenomena. Severely defunded under Tory austerity policies and currently prioritising major urban population centres.

Sherrydown, Brackshire: A historic English market town. One of the first towns to lose its DoOm office.

Omission effect: The rejection of certain beings and phenomena by long-term memory. Recently lifted.

Credits

COMPERE: Matt Boothman

STARRING:

Ellie Pitkin as Peggy Tailor, the Crooked

Chris Buxey as Calistarius Softbinding, the Expert

Chris MacLennan as Ed Kincaid, the Professional

Josh Yard as Jinny Greenteeth, the Spellslinger

with Chris Starkey as Cameron Jarvis

ROLEPLAYING GAME SYSTEM: Monster of the Week, designed by Michael Sands

MUSIC BY: Alexander Pankhurst

SOUND DESIGN BY: Matt Boothman

SFX AND INCIDENTAL MUSIC INCLUDES: Mirage by Kevin MacLeod; and may include others made available to use without attribution.

EDITED AND PRODUCED BY: Matt Boothman

Find us

On Instagram @MerelyRoleplayers

On Tumblr @merelyroleplayers

www.MerelyRoleplayers.com

[popentertainment-interviews]

Alan Cumming

As Host of The Traitors, the Multi-talented Star Brings a New Flamboyance to The Peacock Network's Hit Reality Game Show

by Brad Balfour

Not one to watch reality TV, I didn't really get what The Traitors (the US version) was all about. But since it was hosted by Alan Cumming, the gender fluid actor/artist, I was intrigued to hear him speak about the show. He's the host of the reality game show, which is based on De Verraders, the Dutch show created by Marc Pos and Jasper Hoogendoorn. 

Having completed two seasons, the offbeat American version features Cumming in flamboyant costumes making grand gestures and arch pronouncements as contestants in the game move into a majestic castle. As a result, Cumming has garnered an Emmy nom for Outstanding Host for A Reality or Reality Competition Program (The Traitors). This further enhances the show's impact – but hopefully positive results will be in when the 75th edition of The Emmys airs September 15th on ABC.

The contestants work as a team to complete a series of dramatic and challenging missions. All of this to earn money for the prize pot. Some contestants are loyal, some are traitors – all of them established characters from other reality series.

Cumming – born on January 27, 1965, in Aberfeldy, Scotland – has had a long and distinguished career. He's done everything from editing pop magazines, a cabaret show, dramatic TV series, various stage versions of Shakespeare's plays and many starring roles in award-winning films. And, according to IMDB.com, "he's able to flawlessly change his voice and appearance for each role."

Now as he tackles The Traitors reality show, as both host and a producer, Cumming creates a new icon to connect to the LGBTQ community. At a recent screening of an episode, he spoke about this series just in time for Pride Month and preceding the Emmy nominations.

Alan Cumming, what makes you such an incredibly fun host to watch is that, unlike a lot of other reality shows, you really get into character. You become part of the cast in so many ways. What were your thought processes in coming into the show and figuring out how to play the role that you do within Traitors?

When they first talked to me about it, this was unlike anything I've ever done before. I couldn't quite understand why they'd ask me, but it sort of sounded fun. My agent said, "Oh, there's some show in a castle and they want you to do it." I took the meeting and realized they wanted me to, in a way, subvert the form of hosting a show like this by playing that sort of character. Everyone does a version of themselves when they host something that's not very true. But in this [case], it was actually a version of me and it's a very down-to-east Scottish layout. [My dog] Lala wasn't allowed to come the first time because of her papers, or COVID or something. But I said, "Oh, I should take my dog and pet her like a James Bond villain." I thought of it, and I still think of it as a character that I play who happens to be hosting all these people in this castle, which happens to be being filmed for American TV. 

What makes the character so interesting is that for long-time fans of reality shows, you have a lot of personalities who are binary in nature and larger-than-life. That is why we watch them year after year, characters like C.T. and Adra, who have been on American television for decades. You somehow manage to out-character them in many ways. It's like navigating a lot of those personalities while playing that character.

In a way, it's because they have characters and they all come with their shtick. That's what's so interesting about doing it. The first series was comprised of half-real and half-reality people. Definitely, the people who are used to the camera and have an inbuilt persona already. They play themselves very well and understand the role they have to do. Then they're thrown into this thing where everything's destabilizing for them. I just guide them into situations that hopefully will destabilize them even more. That's what's fun about it. Everyone has a character in a way. 

I think we're used to C.T. or Phaedra or people we've known for years. We understand their characters. We're now associates getting to know my character in it. I'm the stern daddy of it all. It's interesting to play that role and also, to try to keep some distance from them – the cast – on set. I don't talk to them or do takes. I don't engage with them in a chummy way like you might in a normal [situation] when there's other cast members. I very much think it's important that I have authority. They're scared of me. Then, of course, now, after it's all done, I can be like a normal person with them. I think you find that really overwhelming. They all came to my bar as it was when they were here earlier in the year doing the press thing. It was so hilarious. It was like them seeing Father Christmas having a drink or something.

That's the sign of a good host – that they're scared of you. 

They should be scared of me because I've got to reprimand them sometimes. There's a lot of things, obviously, that are captured in the show that I've got in those situations where I've really got to intervene. My word is law. It's great fun. Clearly, I'm a terrifying figure, but I don't think I'm scary. Also, I don't take any shit. I know how to play a scary person. I'm fair but firm in real life. 

Part of what makes The Traitors so unique is that in so many other reality shows, both competition and lifestyle, there's no real setting other than the competition. You go to Survivor Island and do this thing. Or, if you look at Real Housewives, it is their real-life kind of, from time to time. Here, you have this beautiful gothic backdrop. A lot of the events, whether it's the funeral or going to a cemetery, feels very theatrical – and creepy. We're almost subverting the narrative of what this type of show format really is while also being [true] to the format. 

What I think is liberating is the theatricality of it. Everyone in television is very scared of theatricality. If you ever try to pitch a show to a TV executive, the word "theater" or "theatrical" is poison to them. It's very liberating that theatricality is in its very DNA. It's gothic and camp in the true sense of the term. American people sometimes don't have the same understanding of what camp means to British people. What we're doing on the trade is camp. There's an annoyingness to it, an archness of theatricality, and a winking at the audience all the time about what it is. 

There's me in those insane costumes in this castle saying, "Welcome to my castle." We're bringing all these nutty personalities out of their comfort zones and then making them do insane things and pitting them against each other. It's so amped up already in a sort of gothic [manner] of what it's trying to do. The core of it is just a game. All those shows – as I've discovered now in my crash course in reality competition television over the last couple of years – are basically the same. 

Survivor is the same as RuPaul's Drag Race is the same as the chef one. They're all people doing things and then slowly one person gets put out and then they have to hold. Then there's intrigue. Basically, it's just like schoolyard games of pushing one person out until it's just the next thing. In a way, what's good about this is that that's all it is. But it's got all these psychological layers that I think people underestimate. Also, you're in a castle and they're maddened, these contestants, because they're not allowed to pick up their phones. They're not allowed to talk to each other. All they think about from morning to night is the show and the game. And they go nuts. It's great. 

We mentioned something, this idea of camp in the British sense of the term. Not necessarily what we think of it as evidenced by the Met Gala themes.

The theme was a good idea. People just didn't understand it.

The Traitors has a British counterpart. There was a version of this before the U.S. version. What's your take on what had to change within the format for a different audience, or if there had to be any changes, because television has become so much more globalized? Audiences are more open and receptive to different types of formats of television and different types of humor. 

I don't really know how to answer that question. I saw some of the first season of the British one. It's not as camp and theatrical as ours. I think this is probably the first time in television history that an American version of the show is more camp and theatrical than the British one. I think that's me, in my opinion. But I feel like, in a funny way, we were able to have more leeway in that department. That's partly down to the costumes and Sam Spector, the stylist – he and I had an idea of the character I wanted to play. 

[The British host] Claudia Winkelman has such a lovely personality and a lovely way in which she deals with people. They have real people, as well. They don't have celebrities. It's all a bit toned down and quite British. Whereas we were able – partly because it was a new show and partly because of the costume thing and me being this character – we've amped it up. It's got this higher level of theatricality built into it. I think sometimes other countries try to do that. But I don't think they're quite as nuts as we are. I know that now there's something someone said, "Claudia does your thing when she throws a picture on the floor now." I was like, "Yes, you bitch, throw away my little picture." But it's kind of funny. Sometimes I see little clips of people from other countries' versions. It's like, "Oh, it seems like it's sort of a fever dream." You know vaguely what they're talking about, but the circumstances are all different. 

Going to the opposite of toned down, your outfits on the show are probably some of the best parts of it. They somehow get even more fabulous and glamorous every episode.  How involved are you with choosing the outfits versus someone else? 

Well, very involved. I talk to Sam all the time. especially in the first season, because I said I wanted to be this dandy Scottish laird. You know what a laird means? It's like lord in a Scottish accent, a Scottish dandy, an aristocratic gent. To me, that means a lot of tartan, a lot of cloaks might be featured, things like that. I went to him with that idea and those sorts of things. Then he ran with it. We go back and forward. Then the second season, we were able to amp it up a bit. He themed the missions with my clothes. There's one with birds. I just have a funny big peacock on my hat and stuff like that. For the next one, I'm about to go and do it again. It's amped up again, more about layering things. 

I have this great relationship with him. We text all the time. He sends some stuff to me, just ideas and things to improve. I think we're going more and more and bigger and bigger. I think surely, they're going to stop us soon. But one thing I really do like about it is that – in terms of if we think about what's happening in America and the way that trans people and non-binary people are facing lots of hatred and challenges – me, in this show as a middle-aged man, I'm being quite femme-y and wearing a lot of practically feminine female clothes. What's really interesting is to be able to do that in a mainstream way, and challenge people's perceptions of what male and female is, and maybe be a bit in the middle. 

Hopefully, when the audience sees someone in the street who is non-binary or non-gender conforming, they won't be as shocked or horrified. They'll see me in a fanny dress and a cloak the night before. That's a really positive, accidental thing that's come out of this theatricality of the costumes. One of the things that didn't make it is ... I saw it today in my dressing room in my house because I was doing a fitting for some little film I'm doing. I opened this cupboard in the last episode of the last season. It was all on this big ship, which was another story because we had a hideous storm, and it was like "Triangle��of Sadness." It really was. I was vomiting into a metal bowl. I'll never forget it. Thank you. And bon appetit. But there was a funny little hat that had a little galleon on it with sails. It was hilarious. It was this Tracy-esque sort of thing. Absolutely bonkers. So impractical and nuts. It was on theme for the thing. But it was so windy that day that it kept falling off my head. Now I have it as a little memory. 

As hosts, you are effectively the audience of the show. We're seeing a lot of the things that you're seeing and your commentary throughout the challenges is both biting and reflective of how we're thinking. One of the themes that emerges in this episode you all saw as well leads up to this idea with these contestants, of gamers, those who have been on competitive reality shows and the non-gamers – what they refer to as the bravo, basically anyone that sits up and has fancy wine as part of their show. Is there a core advantage to one side or the other?

No, it was the funeral episode. The funeral. Yeah, hilarious. But I just love that because I liked it. As the series went on, they showed me more of me laughing. Obviously, it's Pedro falling in the water. I just loved seeing how he's always getting wet.

Who doesn't? 

Who doesn't? But the thing I think about that, I thought was really interesting about the second season – this truly has been a crash course for me – I'm really at the center of it and I can experience it. I feel that a lot of people said that "Oh, the gamers, they know how to do this, the survivors, the big brothers, the CT did." The challenge, yeah. The perception is they are devious, and they know how to do this game, whereas the outsiders are, oh, you know. That's not true. It was proven wrong in this season because – like, who was the one who worked it all out, blew it in his execution of it – was the cutie little bachelor, Rafaela Peet. So, you know, the other non-gamer. That to me was really exciting because I loved when our perception about the game was just smashed. Although I guess two gamers did win, but you know ... it didn't necessarily mean it was because of their game win. It's that somebody had to win. I think it's really interesting. It's a much more level playing field. Also, it's a game of chance. You're a traitor because I tap you on the shoulder.  

That's why I loved it when, a couple of weeks in, they're going mental. They're like, "I could never be a traitor." I go, "You would if I tapped you on the shoulder." That's why the show is so good. It really screws with people's minds, with the psychological, and the hurt and guilt that people get as well. The guilt [comes from] lying to your friends and everything. It's layer upon layer of awfulness. Having seen people in physical distress, it's always hilarious. 

In the first episode of this [season], as you're walking around, you're going to pick the traitors. You do it a few times, and there's conversation afterwards amongst the cast members about the sound of your jacket rustling as you lift an arm. Or your footsteps and the sound of breathing happening. How did you approach that moment of, "I need to make this as secretive as possible?"

It was absolutely the most terrifying part of the whole thing. I could fuck it up immensely in one fell swoop if they heard me or something. There were more of them this year. I do all sorts of things. The first year, we filmed a thing where I touched every single person. We've got the close-up of my hand going on the thing. We filmed that first. They've got an idea of what it feels like to be touched. Then we go round and round and round and round. In terms of the rustling, I would do this. Right in front of their ears. It's so fun.  

I really enjoy it; it's the scariest part because I have a thing in my ear all the time. I can hear in the control room. When we're inside the castle, they're all in the control room, which is like NASA. It really is insane. I could feel the tension because it was the first thing of the show. Obviously, it's very tense in the room. When you're blindfolded, your other senses get much more aware. So it's really, really scary. I'm trying to get in and just do it without touching anything. I was just talking with Sam, the stylist, this week about what I was going to wear for that bit. Of course, there were things on my lapels. I thought that would be terrible if you heard them. You have to be really conscious of stuff like that. It's because everyone's senses are so heightened. But it is exciting and terrifying. 

Out of all of your friends or celebrities that you know, who do you think would be great on a season of The Traitors? And what would you have more fun with or which role would you think would be better – a traitor or a faithful?

I would like to be a traitor. I think everybody would like to be a traitor. It's just getting to go to the turret late at night and think who you're going to kill. I just think it's such fun. They get extra snacks when they go to the turret sometimes. But I don't know. Some people really don't want to be like that. That's why we do this thing now when I interview them. It's just hilarious. Lala and I are sitting there, and they come in one at a time, and they're really terrified. Some people are adamant they don't want to be a traitor. 

Of course, that's actually quite a good idea to make them a traitor when they're doing that. That's what I love about the game, is all these weird, confounding things you can do. Some people very much do think, well, you're not going to. It's actually really interesting, the mix of people that we choose for the show is all based on a lot of factors. But in terms of people that I know, we were just talking about her actually. 

I think Martha Stewart would be so good at it. She's so bossy and sort of strategic and so accomplished and everything. She would make that raft. She would get that catapult going. And, also, I just think she would be at home in a castle. So there's people like that. But I love those people who come on the show. I don't know who they are. 

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: July 22, 2024.

Photo #1 by Brad Balfour © 2024. All rights reserved.

Photos #2 & 3 © 2024 Ralph Bavaro and Euon Cherry. Courtesy of Peacock. All rights reserved.

[aipilosse]

ok ok ok I watched 8 out of 10 of the best picture noms this year so I want to do a little Oscar prediction thing. This is kind of a mix of will win and should win, highly unscientific. Block #Oscars 2024 if you want to mute me.

Predictions (only in categories I've actually watched most of the things)!

Actor:

Cillian Murphy

Supporting Actor:

Mark Ruffalo

Actress:

Lily Gladstone

Supporting Actress:

Da'Vine Joy Randolph

Cinematography (this is the category where I can't believe Past Lives wasn't nominated because there were so many shots that were just perfectly composed and breathtakingly beautiful but what do I know):

Killers of the Flower Moon

Costume Design:

Barbie

Directing:

Oppenheimer

Film Editing:

Oppenheimer

Makeup and Hairstyling:

Poor Things

Original Score

American Fiction

Original Song:

I'm Just Ken

Best Picture:

Oppenheimer

Production Design:

Poor Things

Sound:

The Zone of Interest

Writing (Adapted):

The Zone of Interest

Writing (Original):

Anatomy of a Fall