#there are many brands that would go entirely out of business if they found out

[geturasstomars]

just found out about golden goose shoes this shit is so funny

[cripplecharacters]

How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special

[large text: How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special]

Today is the 13th of May, which means that the Face Equality Week has just started. This year's theme is “My Face is a Masterpiece” which is probably my favorite sentence ever said about having a facial difference. Huge fan, should be used way more often in my opinion.

Because of this occasion, I would like to share some thoughts about Face Equality that I think are rather entry-level, i.e. you don't need to know much to execute these, but you can still support us.

Stop the stare.

I know it's fun to stare - or so I guess, at least - but maybe you shouldn't. Next time you see someone who has a scar or who's face does not move the same way as yours, just mind your business. We can tell when you're “discreetly” looking.

Don't call us deformed. 

Knowing how the people you're trying to support actually call themselves should be an absolute first step, but most people still fail here. Most of us don't appreciate being called “deformed”. I certainly don't. Say “facial difference”, or “disfigurement” if you must. It's 2024. Leave “deformed” to medical reports from the 70s.

No more “What happened?!”s.

If you aren't a doctor, there's a high-to-100% chance that it's none of your business. It's cool that you're curious - keep it to yourself.

Stop insinuating that we are ugly.

“Support people who are ugly!” isn't very supportive. I would say, not in the slightest. Say “people who don't fit the current beauty standards” if that's what you mean. 

Or, to go with this year's theme, “people whose faces are masterpieces” : )

Use critical thinking online.

Is the reaction photo actually funny, or is it just a person with a craniofacial condition? Is the meme actually a meme, or is it just making fun of a person with a facial disfigurement? Is body-shaming suddenly hilarious to you when the person shamed has strabismus? 

If the entire punchline is “lol they have a disability xd”, it's ableism. Plain and simple.

To go with the point above - your joke is probably not funny.

We get it! You can't help telling us how "you're going to hell for laughing" (which yeah, probably) and how we remind you of the ugliest character you have ever seen. I guarantee you that we heard it, and that you are behaving like an edgy middle schooler who hasn't "found out" yet. It's boring and annoying. Also ableist, but you're aware of that already if you're saying that you're going to hell.

Stop with the goddamn trigger warnings. 

We aren't “body horror”, we aren't “gore”, we aren't something that you need to advise your viewers to use their discretion over. Every “graphic footage: child with neurofibromatosis” and “#tw burn scar” is a sign of ableism and disfiguremisia. People with facial differences deserve to be seen. Ableds can survive seeing a person without a nose.

Do a basic reading on what disfiguremisia is.

New word! And a pretty damn important one. It's a brand of ableism that intersects with more or less everything, and it means discrimination and hatred of people with facial differences/disfigurements. The bullying, harassment, endless name-calling, and microaggressions are all results of disfiguremisia. The ways in which everything is harder for us isn't some unchangeable rule of how the world works, it's just an extremely prevalent type of discrimination.

Understand that we are people.

I know, revolutionary - and yet impossible for so many people to get. We can be a visual representation of evil when it's necessary, we can be a feel-good inspirational story on a morning talk-show, but not much else, it seems. In reality, we are complex, we have our own lives, we can be happy and sad and have the same exact joys and worries that you have.

Hey, artists - facial differences don't make you evil.

Title stolen from a great essay by Lise Deguire (link). When's the last time you saw a positive character with a facial difference that wasn't inspiration porn? I mean a character that's not edgy, full of angst, a murderer, or a villain. Based on what you see in the media, you'd think that having a scar renders you evil on the spot, but in reality it just makes you loathe how artists apparently think you are like. It's boring, it's overdone, it's ableism. Stop doing this, and start noticing when it's being done. Point it out if your friend is writing their new villain to be an evil burn survivor. This kind of portrayal needed to stop ages ago, but tomorrow will be a great time as well.

Before you reply with “I've never seen this” - Darth Vader, Lion King’s Scar (subtle name, great thing to teach kids!), Freddy Krueger, Voldemort, we could be here forever. You're just not paying attention.

Pay attention to where we are not included.

As discussed, there are some places where you see us all the time. But where do you not see us?

Advertisements (unless it's for a scar-removal cream, of course). Fashion shows. Magazine covers. Romance movies where we are the main character.

We deserve to see ourselves in what's around us in the same way able-bodied people do. Trying to make it seem like we don't exist - that's deliberate. 

Interact with our art.

We draw, write, sing, act in movies, we do everything! Support us in the most tangible way - leave us a nice comment, read our books, listen to our songs. Watch movies where actual people with facial differences star, not pseudoinspirational stories about how “being disfigured is ok” where they shove an able-bodied actor into a full face prosthetic just to not have an actor with a disfigurement on set.

Include us.

As this year's Face Equality Week calls for, include us. In art, in movies, in books, in your life. Show us as positive people who are valuable, who are a part of your community - I guarantee that we are in every one that's out there. The world is hostile and unwelcoming to people with facial differences - be the change, wherever you are!

I know that it is different from the usual posts I make, but I hope it was somewhat educational. I just like to use every occasion that I can to force Face Equality into people's heads. To make this at least a bit about writing to keep the blog's theme, I will say that if you want to write about us, you need to care about us in real life as well. Otherwise, it's shallow and pointless.

Below the readmore are some links/resources that you can click to educate yourself further. A lot of them lead to Face Equality International because they have just about everything you should know. If you want to be a better ally to people with facial differences, I heavily recommend them!

#MyFaceIsAMasterpiece

mod Sasza

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/why-i-will-not-hide/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/disability-is-diversity/202111/hidden-community-the-movement-face-equality

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2022/05/facial-differences-in-the-media/

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/advertising-excludes-women-with-faces-like-mine/

https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/burn-community-bookshelf

https://faceequalityinternational.org/about-fei/international-face-equality-week/

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/hidden-from-view-women-with-facial-differences-in-the-media/

https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/i-dont-see-your-scars

whoa thanks for actually clicking the readmore!!

[battymommastuff]

The One I was Meant to Find

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

You can swallow fire, you've practically flown through the hair....You've performed in front of millions from age eighteen. You felt like you could handle anything the world threw at you....

Until you entered the Upper district of Gotham City a week after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The part of the city full of the most lavish, and expensive stores. So many name brands that you only ever dreamed of wearing. Not even Haly himself could afford such luxuries, and he owned the circus. Bruce insisted that he bring you to this part of the city to shop for your new wardrobe. He planned on buying outfits, dresses, shoes, jewelry, perfumes, and anything else you could never need. You tried to convince him to just take you to a thrift shop or some random outlet, but he only looked at you as if you spat on his shoes. 

So here you were, standing in front of a store that you had no business being in. Little did you know, you would be walking into these stores as if you were walking through your home in the future. All in due time...

Bruce enjoyed a cheap glass of champagne while you were given dress after dress to wear. Since your method of employment was no longer safe, he planned on hiring you as his assistant until you were safe to find your own career path. You stepped out in a dark blue dress that fit a little big on you, "Bruce, you really don't have to do this...I mean a thousand dollars for a dress? I'm sure we can find something similar for a cheaper price." You said while holding the price tag. He frowned, standing up from his seat. He walked over to you and inspected the price tag for himself. 

He turned you around so you were facing the mirror, "I think it looks wonderful on you." Bruce said with a smile. He moved your hair to the side so he could zip up the rest of the dress and rested his hand on your hip. You both decided to put off the facade of being a couple while in public. Subtle touches like this were going to happen, but he didn't go too far with it, "I could buy this entire store if I wanted to." He whispered into your ear. A shiver went down your spine, and you bit your lip softly. You knew Bruce Wayne was rich, but just how rich was he? Obviously he was rich enough to keep up his lifestyle as Batman. You turned around, not realizing just how close the two of you were. 

Have you ever had that feeling? That feeling that you were looking at someone you knew? As if you'd been with them a thousand life times. That's what you felt when you looked into his eyes. It was as if your souls found each other once again. You knew the theory of the multiverse from one of the clowns in the circus, he loved conspiracy. The thought of you and Bruce being together in different universes made you giggle a bit, "What's so funny?" He asked, his hand still resting on your waist. 

"Nothing at all, Mr. Wayne." Bruce rolled his eyes then back away from you. You only called him that to be a tease. You two often found yourselves teasing one another. Which is why Alfred was very happy to have the both of you out of the house...so he can be free of the thick tension for a few hours. Now you were walking downstairs to the batcave, dressed in one of your new nightgowns. Tonight was one of those nights where you felt unsafe. Truly, you never felt safe. You knew there were eyes on you outside of Wayne Manor. The only place you felt safe was right by Bruce's side...or Batman's at this time of night. 

"You should be asleep." Batman said as he typed away on the batcomputer. It made you think of the night he rescued you, "You have a busy day tomorrow, and I'm sure your boss wouldn't be happy with you being tardy." He joked then turned to look at you. He could tell instantly that you were scared. He understood the fear. After his parents were murdered, he would be up all night in fear of their murderer coming back to finish him off. Living life having to constantly look over your shoulder was no life to live. Without a word, he stood up while removing his cape. The surprisingly light material was draped over your shoulders to keep you warm. He wasn't going to make you leave. If you felt safe around him, then you could stay. Still in silence, you sat down on a stool next to a table lined with gadgets. You hadn't the faintest clue of what any of them were, but they looked very dangerous. 

Was it strange? That you could picture your life like this? By his side, helping him on his quest for Justice. The Manor already felt like home. More so than the circus ever did. That feeling came back again. The one where you felt as if you've been through this before. As if every choice you've ever made led to this very moment. Led you to Bruce. 

"Do you believe in soulmates?" 

"No." 

Your mouth formed an O shape and you awkwardly nodded. That might have been a question for Bruce Wayne not Batman. You learned quickly that the two were vastly different people. Bruce almost felt like the mask while Batman was truly who he was. Sometimes you saw a mix of the two...which you favored. 

"Y/N. I'm not someone you can love. My life and what I do will only bring you more danger, you will never live the happy life you deserve to live. I can never make you happy, and can never give myself to you fully. I'm sorry." 

Being rejected before the first move was ever made never felt good. You felt your heart shatter at the same time that your eyes began to water, "R-Right...I was dumb to ever think otherwise." You said while sliding down from the stool, "Goodnight...Batman." You whispered and swiftly left the batcave, passing Alfred who instantly noticed the tears falling from your eyes.  He could only shake his head as he made his way down the stone steps. 

"Lying to yourself and to her will only make it worse, Master Wayne." Alfred said as he set down a fresh cup of tea next to Batman. Nothing was ever openly spoken, but it was obvious that Bruce and Batman both had feelings for you. Everything about you just drove him insane. He never believed in soulmates until he met you. He never thought that there could be anyone in this world made for him. Yet there you were, and it terrified him. How could he ever keep you safe? Once his enemies knew of you, you were going to be the target. The Court was already going after you, but he had so many more that would love to watch him hurt. He knew if he let himself care for you, it would only end with him losing you. 

And he couldn't lose you....

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @irelanrose @asterelz @angelxx7 @millies0bsimp @marie0v @starmansirius @amberpanda99 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @inutheangel @chaoticevilbakugo @mellowdiy @luvly-writer @enretrogue @zanzie @backyardfolklore

[leahsgf]

Can you write Alessia Russo x reader where reader has known her and Ella toone for years and is always watching their matches no matter what but reader and Alessia fall in love behind Ella’s back and then get found out?!

CAUGHT OUT - alessia russo

since before you could even remember, it had always been you and ella, the pair of you being practically attached at the hip from when you were babies, all the way up into adulthood. your bond only grew with time, and when she introduced you to alessia as young teenagers, the three of you very quickly became an absolutely inseparable trio - falling into eachother’s stride with ease.

you weren’t entirely sure where you ended and they begun.

even as you all got older and couldn’t physically see each other as much as you used to - with them both at the peaks of their careers, and the travel and demands that came alongside that, and you caught up in your own career - you still remained a solid unit. your family.

you didn’t play football, you never had, having always been the scrawny little kid who was terrified of pe lessons, earning yourself the lifelong nickname ‘tiny’, which still stuck even as a fully grown adult. but you were there for every single one of your girls’ moments. rain or shine, no matter what side of the world, or how busy you were with work, you’d be in the stands, cheering them on.

today was no different - finding yourself sat at wembley, a stadium you’d come to learn inside and out, to watch them play. you always adored being at games, seeing your girls flourish always made you want to burst with pride. and likewise, they loved having you there, always playing their best when you were in the crowd- branding you their ‘good luck charm’, and constantly bickering over whose jersey you’d wear to the matches.

-

being such a tight knit group, and having such a set routine when it came to games - alessia’s transfer to arsenal changed things for the three of you. many things, in fact.

for almost the entirety of the time you’d known them, they’d played for the same teams - the only exception prior to this being alessia’s college days. for you, it came as an adjustment, a new team to learn about so you’d be able to fully understand and appreciate her future stories, different games to go to, and the realisation that your two favourite people were going to play against eachother at some point. at multiple points.

this also meant that most of the time when you were going to one of their games, you wouldn’t see the other. this didn’t make a difference when it came to the times you would go to watch ella play, but with alessia, it changed things. it blurred lines that the pair of you had previously forced yourselves to draw, using ella as an almost reason, signifying the fact you were best friends, and that’s all it was.

in fact, you actually had no idea at what point exactly you and alessia became more than friends. from the secret stolen kisses at sleepovers as teenagers for ‘practice’ to the lingering glances and touches that lasted just a second longer than friendly ones should, you weren’t even sure that you had ever truly been just that.

however, with the sudden absence of the pair of your’s best friend, and the physical representation of the walls put between you, said wall came crashing down - within alessia’s first week at her new club.

your relationship very quickly blossomed from that moment, a decades worth of hidden, suppressed feelings from both sides pouring out.

despite how obviously in love with each other you were, you had been terrified to reveal it to the world, specifically your world, not wanting to lose, or even slightly affect your friendship with her.

the arsenal girls had figured it out instantly the first time they met you, and had been sworn to secrecy by a very flustered and panicked alessia, which made matters even worse, and made what you were doing feel like even more of a betrayal to your best friend.

the months of sneaking around and not being able to tell ella about a relationship you were in for the first time in your life was killing you, and the more time that passed made it more awkward to come out and say to her.

there had been many close calls that didn’t help your stressing over her reaction, from the one time you had to climb out of alessia’s bedroom window when ella unexpectedly showed up demanding a girls night after training, and then had to wait twenty minutes outside before going around to the front door to pretend you’d just arrived, to the time you’d had to practically leap apart mid drunken make out when you had hosted a group of your friends at your apartment and one of them stumbled into the kitchen without warning, and thankfully (for you, not for her) it was only leah.

-

your cheeks flushed furiously as alessia spun you around, her and ella both immediately finding you after the final whistle had blown, and the lionesses solidified their well earned win.

“see tooney our little good luck charm always comes in handy!” the blonde patted your head after releasing you from her grasp - giggling when ella immediately latched onto you in response, ordering you to ‘pick her up’ after you’d already caught her in your arms.

“my girls! this calls for celebrations, come on, we’re going out!” she yelled, almost ear piercingly loud - quite literally for you, as you foolishly held her right next to your ear.

there was a group of the younger players who always went out to party after wins, and you naturally went along every time - having known most of them for the same time you’d known your best friends, practically being an extra limb to either one of them.

you hung around the locker rooms waiting for them to change and shower, rolling your eyes at the winks and nudges of beth and leah as they passed you, and shoving them away - catching a glimpse of alessia and ella closely behind them, particularly focusing on the former’s panicked expression.

-

the journey back to the team’s hotel was one that could only be described as loud and chaotic. you were sat on your girlfriend’s lap, squished between her and the seat in-front of you, and ella was sat next to you, so close that it was practically a pile up.

thankfully, she was too busy bellowing an interesting rendition of ‘islands in the stream’ to notice the blonde’s hand on your hip, pulling you flush into her and drawing little hearts and stars onto the exposed skin from where your shirt had risen up.

you and your best friends had always been touchy, so you on one of their laps was a regular occurrence, therefore there was no way in your mind that ella could find out.

-

you were back and being ushered into their room to get ready for the night ahead before you knew it - desperately attempting not to blush furiously as alessia helped you top up your makeup, following ella’s strict orders so you could all match.

“right i need to find mary she said she’d curl my hair! less, remember what i said! i know how clumsy you are just follow what i told you, yeah? mary! mary!” she didn’t even give herself a chance to finish her own sentence before she was darting out of the room, voice echoing the corridor and most likely gaining a future noise complaint in the process.

not even a second after she was out of sight, alessia turned to you with a grin that only you could read - pulling you into her.

“oh i’ve been desperate to get you alone all week, i’ve missed you baby.” she grinned, throwing her arms around you and peppering kisses all over your face before finally meeting your lips.

you melted into her touch, instantly being returned home just by the slightest trace of her fingertips in your hair, and laughing as she playfully pushed you down onto the bed.

you barely had time to register her the feeling of her lips, and the comforting weight of her on top of you before the sound of a door being flung open and a following gasp hit your ears.

alessia practically flew off of you as you threw your head back onto the pillow and scrunched your eyes closed. you knew exactly who it was without even needing to look.

“el we can expl-”

“MARY YOU OWE ME SO MUCH MONEY!”

and she was gone just as fast as she stumbled in, cackling as mary groaned from the next room.

[aliferous-ly]

A ghost haunted season 10. Certainly not a malicious one, if a bit mischievous - and one had to keep a careful eye out to catch him.

Jevin heard him first, deep underground. He was hunting iron, early in the season, and he was having the worst luck. He even looked up where iron should be, to make sure the updates hadn't changed anything! Alas, the iron evaded him. Jevin might have to resort to begging and then jump straight to a farm.

And he kept hearing these crackly, faint snickers. At first he thought he'd been on a voice channel accidentally, but, no, his comm wasn't connected. Then, just to make sure, he disconnected it entirely - but the laughter prevailed. Jevin chalked it up to too many sleepless nights, and went to find an overachieving hermit already building an iron farm.

Stress heard him next, but as someone who heard murmuring monsters on a good day, she didn't give it a second thought. Clear as day she heard an, "oh, bugger." She thought, you and me both, monster, before going along with her day.

Then it was Xisuma, though he didn't hear anyone, he saw. It was a mere glimmer out of the corner of his eye. White hair, stout, pickaxe slung lovingly over a shoulder. When he looked back there was nothing. He resolved to run diagnostics on his helmet, because something was clearly haywire.

And in Joel's defense, he was both exhausted and brand new to hermitcraft. It wasn't like people had nametags on, they were a group of friends! So when an old man grumbled by, lost as could be within the shopping district, Joel furrowed his brows but ultimately was too tired to ruminate. He overheard the man saying something about shroomlights and called out, "Tango has the permit, but he doesn't have a shop up yet!"

The man startled, muttered something about "permits?" before scuttling off like a spooked horse. Joel shrugged. It was called hermitcraft, after all. There had to be loads of people he hadn't met yet.

Small instances added up. Scar fell asleep making a tree, hidden amongst the branches, and was spooked awake by the sound of a player dying. But when he checked his comm, nothing showed up. A dream, he thought uneasily.

I just need sleep, Tango thought.

Wow, someone's wearing a sick costume, Skizz thought. Too bad I'm too busy to go chat right now!

Who's messing with my hourglass now? Doc thought. Only, there wasn't anyone else on the server at the time. Probably an armor stand prank.

It all came to head when Hypno stumbled across his fifth stripmine in one mining session. He rolled his eyes, because of course Wels had created tunnels beneath Hypno's place just to be a nuisance. Except when he pointed it out to Wels, who was on call with Hypno but was busy caving, Wels expressed confusion.

"I've only made one or two strip mines. And they're not near you," Wels said.

Hypno saw a wisp of white hair turning a corner. "Haha, very funny, Wels. Come on out."

"I'm not joking?" Wels said in confusion. In the same beat he got the achievement for sneaking successfully past a shrieker for the first time and Hypno was far too high up to be near an ancient city.

"Maybe it's someone else?" Hypno murmured, checking who was online. Grian and Joel, who were having their own shenanigans blowing up the comms (it involved TNT, so the blowing up was quite literal). Impulse had just left. Etho, who could be a contender if Hypno didn't know he'd fallen asleep at the post office three hours ago. Plus, what sort of prank would this be, from Etho?

He explored the endless strip mines and got so lost that he had to dig his way up. When he mentioned the strangeness to Keralis, the man lit up and exclaimed that he'd found the same thing, how weird was that, huh?

Hypno investigated. If there was a bug in the world he'd need to know.

"You know, it might not be a bug," Cleo said meaningfully. They fidgeted with a tear in their clothes.

"What else would it be?" Hypno asked, mystified.

"Maybe it's a player. You know. Someone we never removed from the whitelist."

Cleo raised an eyebrow. It wasn't in their nature to beat around the bush, but at the same time they didn't want to act crass. Not for this.

Tentative realization trickled through Hypno. He nodded and abruptly left, unsure how to feel.

The information spread slowly through the rest of the server. Joe took to leaving boxes of torches and iron pickaxes about, and every so often would have to refill them. He didn't ask, but everyone swore they hadn't been stealing. Who would need an iron pickaxe at this point, anyway?

One night, Cub let off a slew of fireworks that were spherical and solid green. He heard a faint chuckle on the breeze, and raised a drink in quiet salute.

So, yes. A ghost haunted season 10. But ghost haunting had such a negative connotation, didn't it? The hermits, if they spoke about him at all, much preferred to call him the True Hermit who never left.

[loveushijima]

the colour yellow | miya atsumu x reader

miya atsumu loves the colour yellow, and you are full of it!

fluff, gender neutral reader

Miya Atsumu loves the colour yellow.

When Atsumu was born, he came into this world with a slight golden hue in his eyes and a cry so loud that it could’ve shaken the entire hospital. Atsumu has always had a strong presence and it had already presented itself the day he was born. By the age of 6, Atsumu was boisterous and crass. He always said the wrong things at the wrong times and never apologised for how he felt. Atsumu was headstrong and could never keep quiet.

The life of the Miya household was 179cm and 15-years-old and had just bleached his hair using some off brand box dye he found in the convenience store nearby his house. Atsumu walked out of the bathroom with a smug grin etched on his face and his chest puffed up with pride at how good (he thought) he looked. His parents gasped in shock at the vibrant yellow but knew that there was no fighting Atsumu on this, because they knew Atsumu and they knew that he would not, under any circumstances, dye his hair back to black.

Hearing no complaints, Atsumu dyed Osamu’s hair silver the next day and their parents were absolutely fuming.

Atsumu particularly enjoyed the summer season more than any other. Atsumu enjoyed going to the beach and feeling the sun on his skin. Atsumu enjoyed swimming at the beach and splashing the ocean water onto Osamu’s face really hard. Atsumu enjoyed wearing thin yellow T-shirts and drinking a can of cold yuzu soda after a long day out with his friends. Yellow found its way into Atsumu’s life in more ways than one, and overtime he’s learned to embrace the colour. From his hair to his shoes, from the way he’s unapologetically loud and brightens up any room he steps in.

Miya Atsumu was the colour yellow.

Atsumu had many friends during his first year at Inarizaki. He was fun and bright and everything he touched became golden. Atsumu was daylight personified and everyone wanted to be around him. Girls would fawn over him and guys would hang around him constantly. They all tried to feed off his warmth and knowing everybody wanted him made Atsumu shine brighter.

It was the second month of his first year at Inarizaki when he caught his first glimpse of you.

You, in all your glory, standing by the lockers chatting with your friends. You had the brightest smile on your face and the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. He had never met someone whose happiness radiated like yours. You were contagious. Atsumu knows the colour yellow inside and out, and Atsumu knew you were completely full of it.

A month had passed since seeing you for the first time and the only thing occupying Atsumu’s mind for the past month was still you. Why had he never noticed how often you walked by his classroom before? You walk by his classroom thrice a day, he counted. Once at 8am, another time at 10am, and the final time at 3pm. You were always with a group of people and you were always laughing at inside jokes or talking about a manga you got your friends to start reading.

When Atsumu hears your laugh ring through the corridors, he instinctively looks out the classroom window and stares at you as you pass by. You, with your cute laughter and cute smile and cute hair.

One time Osamu made the mistake of calling you and your group of friends annoying for always being so loud and Atsumu swears he was going to kill his brother. Atsumu almost became an only child that day.

Other than you, Atsumu also really likes the meat buns sold at the FamilyMart nearby the campus. He frequents there usually before practice starts and (like the great brother and teammate he is) gets a few extra buns for his team.

In the fourth month, Atsumu is minding his own business bagging up a few meat buns for him and his teammates, when all of a sudden the bells of the Mart chime and the doors open and there you were. You had your headphones on and your usual cloud of friends were not anywhere nearby. You must be going home, Atsumu presumed. He watches with curiosity as you walk over to the beverage section, picking out a can of yuzu soda - the one he likes to drink.

Atsumu watches as you pay for the drink then promptly leave. Atsumu watches the doors open as he runs out of the FamilyMart with not a single logical thought running through his head. Atsumu watches your figure get closer and closer as he realises he’s running towards you at full speed and he has no idea why. His legs are moving at a pace faster than his brain could process and before he knew it, he’s standing in front of you, his knees weak and his brain cursing at him for making such a rash and unsound decision. Atsumu feels his throat dry and his heart beating at a mile a minute from the sudden physical activity. Or it could be the fact that you’re standing right in front of him. He doesn’t know which is making him more jittery (it was more likely you).

You take off your headphones and sling them on your neck, confused and honestly a little taken aback.

“I… I like that… that brand too,” Atsumu states in between pants. “The soda.”

You look down at the opened drink and smile at him with that same smile Atsumu loves. The one he daydreams about as he watches you walk by his classroom. The one he wants to wake up and fall asleep to everyday and every night. Your eyes become rife with life as you talk about how much you like yuzu, especially yuzu flavoured things. Atsumu watches as a soft yellow engulfs you as you ramble on about something regarding yuzu.

Atsumu loses track of time talking to you by the sidewalk of that FamilyMart. With pink tinting your cheeks, you suggest exchanging phone numbers so that you two could continue talking later that night. You both laugh as you pull out identical yellow cellphones, realising that both of your favourite colours were yellow and that you’ve both never met someone more alike than each other.

Atsumu walks to practice that day with a smile on his face and the girl of his dreams in his contact list. He walks into the gymnasium with the biggest grin on his face and his cheeks a little red.

Osamu sees his brother walk in. “‘Tsumu, where are the meat buns?”

Atsumu pauses for a second.

“Oops… must’ve left them in the store!”

Osamu was so hungry and so mad at his brother. Osamu almost became an only child that day.

[onyourhyuck]

SHALALA. | L.TY

— Prologue: “Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key.”

— Summary: Where you have to design an outfit for Lee Taeyong a famous fashion model but it leads to you both stripping off your clothes.

— Genre: Smut minors dni. SHALALA is such a bop. Model!taeyong. dom!taeyong. praising praising praising. sneaky link trope. Pussy eating. Overstimulation. Many orgasms. Almost caught (?) Makeout. Female fingering receiving.

— Notes: I love Shalala album so much.

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You’re a designer who’s now working with the most viral and talented fashion model Lee Taeyong.

It is truly an honour you stand in front of the most handsome man in the entire world you’ve laid your eyes upon. You feel almost self conscious about your eyes laying on him. It’s like you thought, you wonder if you even deserve to have such a good moment to watch him. To look at him.

But Taeyong was a friendly guy. He welcomed you. He heard good things about your work and he feels like it fits into the concept he puts out there. The most neo person to live. He bleeds neon green to you. He’s perfect for your work.

You smile. “It’s honestly my greatest accomplishment to have you model for my clothes.” Taeyong smiles back hearing you say this. Every designer tells him this; ‘it’s an honour. I am so glad you allowed me to design this for you.’ But your words seem to have a different meaning and tone to what he usually would hear from other brands.

You spoke with the most raw truth about your work. When Taeyong looks at the clothes you make, they tell a story, they tell a story about every single thought and aspect you make in your head while creating these beautiful things for people to wear.

Taeyong couldn’t wait to see what you will create for him. He can’t wait to see the story you will make for him to see and read. To tell the world and wear it on his sleeves.

“I look forward working with you, Y/n.”

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You’re sat down designing on the paper. The hardest part of being a fashion designer it’s that you have to sketch the idea. You have to brainstorm every part of your muscles to figure something unique, something worth making and trying out. You don’t want Taeyong to wear the most banally shaped and boring designs — because it’s not his concept firstly. Secondly you wish to catch the attention of the public and have people want to scream to wear what Taeyong will wear on that fashion walk.

You want people to look at a certain clothing and think: ‘Wait What! That looks like it’s made by Y/n.’ And you want to get the point across that you want to make your work the most outlandish and outstanding piece of clothing like it is an artwork that must be hung up in a museum somewhere.

This was your goal and you knew the moment you needed a model to do the right job it would have to be no one else but Lee Taeyong.

He has your vibe. He has style and the body you need. And most importantly he has the face and personality that fits right into your branding.

You sketch on the paper many designs various sizes and shapes; a shirt in a shape of a triangle? Pair of trousers with rectangle stitching ends? You did anything you found to be fitting. You let your mind run wild.

“Y/n what colour do you want the first stage outfit to be?” Your co-worker Johnny who worked for you for many of your fashion shows and such. He was another designer too, and without him you’d be a lost cause you thought.

You trail busy looking at the pieces of papers checking out the outfits you have sketched. He was behind you holding many blocks of colours and he saw you were too far looking at the papers than at him. “Hmm…I have a vision… but I can’t seem to see it clearly.” Johnny hears you say that with a sigh.

His eyebrows rise up on his face. “How come? What’s your vision.”

You hum putting the papers down on the desk as your chair turns around. You’re now facing Johnny. “I want the audience to go wild when they see someone like Taeyong; I mean he’s handsome. He has a face that anyone would want. I want his clothes to equal that.” Someone with Taeyong’s face would want to be shown off.

Johnny can understand that your points coming cross may be from your stress and overthinking though you have a point, when he looks at Taeyong he imagines something weird. He wants a weird outfit.

“I think we should make something weird. Something out of the norm-you’d-usually go in the direction of.”

You squint your eyes as you hear this. The sudden wave of realisation puts you into a trapping reality like you were dreaming out of nowhere so you’re now going to be through a lane of ideas trafficking at your fingertips. You turn around quickly, “You’re a genius Johnny…” Johnny had no idea what you were now drawing. But it seems like he made you tick in a different direction now. As per usual his guidance always makes you bring out the best ideas out of yourself.

In a few minutes you’ve drawn the perfect picture of what your vision actually was. Johnny was brought in closer to the desk next to you leaning down with one arm stretching out to hold the table. He looks proud. He looks satisfied and it’s a lot better than what he expected from you. You smirk looking at the design of what you will be making Taeyong wear; on his first stage fashion walk. You can’t wait but you can already imagine that he will look so good, that he will have no choice but to take people’s breathes away and leave them unable to look away from him. As if he was a siren possessing anyone in his reach.

“It’s perfect.” Johnny told you satisfied.

You grin. “He’s going to be the centre of everyone’s attention now.” You we’re sure of it. You were confident and you could already tell in the future it will be like that.

“What are you going to name it?” Johnny now said asking you and you raise an eyebrow humming.

Your eyes sparkle when you click your fingers in the air as if you finally found the perfect title to name this outfit design you have created.

Something weird for something weird to wear.

“I am going to name it,”

“Shalala.”

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Taeyong would be in the fitting rooms awaiting for your arrival. It was early morning and he was surprised to have been called in so early. You had a great chance to be making many finalists decisions for the cat walk designs but it seems like you had made something so special that you told him to come to your studio this early in the morning. He was excited he won’t lie. Taeyong loves your work and he meant it when he told you he loved every single piece you have created from the beginning of your uprising career. There was never a moment where he disliked any piece of your work and he can proudly say this that he will not be left ashamed. He’s bewildered with anticipation.

He has no idea of what you will be showing him today; no idea what you have called it. No idea what it could be. He just knows you made something and he’s about to find out what.

He’s alone in your studio waiting until you come inside with a welcoming smile. The moment you strut forward to give him a greeting hug from you, in which he gladly accepts, the whiff of your sweet fruity perfume attacks his nostrils in the most pleasant way possible. You smell so good he couldn���t resist from wanting to smell more of it but he restrains himself. Surprised by your beautiful smile too, you pull away from him first.

Letting the hug go you beam happily. “It’s so good to see you again Taeyong. Did you get here safe?” You ask mentioning a polite voice. Taeyong was starstruck watching you. He wasn’t expecting you to be this happy to see him. But he was glad you were happy because your smile truly did something in his stomach. Something special.

“Yes I got here safe.” Taeyong smiles gently as he nods. “My managers are getting us coffee. I told them to get an americano for us both. I hope that’s okay?” He wasn’t sure what to give you because he wasn’t sure what you’d like or not so he got the same drink as what he would get hoping you wouldn’t mind.

You were surprised he was buying you coffee anyways; it’s your first time getting offered a cup of coffee from a model.

You smile at him, though your heart skipped a beat by his compassionate gesture. “Ah yes Americano is perfect thank you. You didn’t have to.”

‘Thank god. It would’ve been so awkward if she didn’t drink coffee…’ Taeyong trails to his own thoughts.

You now decide to trail to the fitting areas where the outfit you have created. You spent so many all-nighters making the design of the outfit you created with Johnny; secondly you would like to say it’s the most Neo-thing for someone like Taeyong to wear and at this point you know it’s good. Because Taeyong quite literally would bleed Neon Green if he had to. You know that his favourite colour is green so you cooperated that into the outfit.

The only thing you need to do now is to reveal it to him. Your heart’s chasing miles from what you wanted it to be. You were nervous and panicked. You were confident in the outfit but you care so much about Taeyong’s opinion too. He’s the one who will make it go viral. He’s the key and you’re nothing without his good impression on the outfit.

Taeyong’s eyes widen as he was met with your hands revealing the outfit. It was a simple puffer jacket with puffer pants. It gave this most comfortable down to earth look but at the same time it looks so stylish there wasn’t a single bland thing about it even though it was just a puffer jacket and a pair of pants puffer out in the same material. He feels like this was the most beautiful piece of thing he’s seen made perfectly adjusted to his needs; he won’t be cold wearing this that’s for sure. He will be able to walk around and do all the poses models do on the cat walk. The material is soft and fun. It wasn’t boring which is what he finds amazing about this whole thing. You managed to turn something so simple — into something so unique and weird. Which is what he loves so much.

He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I am now introducing you to: Shalala.”

The jacket was a bright green; vibrant as heck it could blind everyone’s eyes from countries away. Your designs on the jacket was black squares similar to checkers making it compliment the bright distracting green. The black squares made the jacket somehow more tame. Which is what Taeyong found to be the most important part. Balance.

Your work has the perfect balance that many brands should learn from you. Taeyong sticks by these words. Famous Brands should learn from you.

The pants were wide and flown out. Taeyong saw the way the pants were following the black and green patterns now like it was an illusion. He was impressed, mind blown in a way.

He looks back at you with his mouth wide open. “I love this Y/n. Truthfully it’s nothing else I’ve ever seen before but I love that about your work.” He states with genuine emotions.

You smile. He likes it and that’s what matters to you the most. “I’m glad you like it. Honestly I tried to think about your style in general… you have a unique style and I like that.” You softly add. “I wanted you to wear something you’d want to wear.”

“No one else has done that for me.” Taeyong reveals as his eyes were glued on your face now as if they were unable to let go off you in the sight. You turn around with your eyes widen as you saw how intensely he’s been watching you. Somehow your heart starts to beat even more.

‘Why am I feeling so nervous suddenly?…’

Taeyong comes forward watching you as his hands slowly lift themselves to feel the hem of your shirt attaching on your body so nicely. His fingers wrap themselves around your perfectly shaped waist and his gaze lows down to your kissable lips. Somehow he always knew you were attractive but seeing you more and more. Working with you was a pleasure he enjoyed the most. You’re the first designer to make him feel this way. You catch his breath to become hitch.

You knew you shouldn’t be this close to Taeyong. You know how much this can become a scandal if anyone saw you how close he’s closing into your body the gap between you both shrinks and now you could feel his chest pressing on your body with the same amount of intensity your heart was pumping out of your chest. Your eye could pop out their sockets. It definitely feels like it.

You whisper. “Taeyong…we can’t be doing this.” He knew you were right but, the moment feels too good to stop and he can’t help but want more. More of you. More than anything else he’d ever want before. “Shh…” he tells you slowly.

His deep voice was so powerful yet so low and deep you couldn’t help but think perhaps you’re addicted to hearing his deep voice speaking like this to you. And now you don’t want him to stop when he was looking at you with so much emotion.

“Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key…”

Your lips crash into his passionately moving in each others shapes. The kiss leaves you feeling more and more detached from reality than before and you never thought getting kissed by the famous Lee Taeyong would make your skin crawl with so many compliments towards him. He was not only so handsome and talented — but he can kiss so good. You never expected to have been able to see this for yourself. To have yourself experiencing such pleasure given to you by Taeyong. The man drags you on top of a desk. The outfit you created was put on the side out of your minds.

What was important now to him was you getting pinned by his tongue in your mouth dominating yours with so much ease it was like an easy game for him. You weren’t sure if this was reality. Or if this was virtuality.

Hearing your moans escaping out when Taeyong pulls apart from your ruby red lips that he could kiss on and on without a singular boredom irking him. Now your neck was begging to be kissed, held, loved and marked by him so much he couldn’t help but launch down to your soft skin. Biting on it carefully leaving beautiful marks behold like you were rewarded.

You shift on the table with your thighs trembling. The way your neck was your most sensitive part; Taeyong was in awe at the effects it gave you.

It made your tremble already and he hasn’t even gotten to the part where he fucks you.

Your eyes were dilated so much. Taeyong could stare at your pupils for hours on end. The way your Iris pupils reflect the light so beautifully proved that you’re light itself.

“Oh god… Taeyong…” you groan when your shirt was pulled off by the model stripping you clean. You couldn’t help but join in pulling his expensive branded clothes. Though you were careful not to rip it. You both succeeded in getting yourselves naked in their arms as Taeyong’s mouth lap on your breasts. Hands condoling your chest with a light squeeze there and then.

The tongue playing by your nipples finding your head hanging back as your shoulders clench up tensing together. Your stomach pressing inwards at your pelvis because of how good it feels to have his warm saliva paint your breasts with it. Like he was a painter and you were his one true canvas masterpiece.

“You like that, Y/n?” Taeyong murmurs against your beautiful breasts he finds them to be the most attractive part of you but he would lie if you weren’t completely attractive head to toe. Because you are. You’re someone who has it all.

And he wants all of you. He strives to be better for you all along.

You nod softly in his response unable to find your words to answer him back but nonetheless he didn’t mind. He prepares you by stretching your wet folds with his two fingertips. You gasp when you feel him watching you, no, he was staring at you as your clenching round his two fingers tightly. Each meaningful movement as stretching you so far you could feel your tongue coming out with your moans. He loves watching you become a mess, from such simple touches, he loves the effect you give out.

You muffle your moans with your palm as Taeyong stops pulling away he leans down to give a soft kitten lick on your clit that makes your hand slide off your face. It was nearly impossible to be quiet when you were getting devoured head on by Taeyong. His hands stretching out your thighs. You feel them greatly and sharply pushing you down and down which only makes your pleasure stronger than your muscles could take.

You couldn’t even tell where you were anymore because you were so lost in the moment feeling your high coming closer that both you and Taeyong couldn’t hear the front door knocking. The voices behind the door belong to the managers, indicating they came back with the coffee they had been waiting to get for the two of you — Taeyong doesn’t stop eating you out as if he was starved unable to get any self control back.

So now you’re on the desk with your thighs spread wide over getting yourself eaten out by your model. And you try not to make any loud sounds that can get you two caught. Somehow his gaze was watching you as the managers call out your name on the other side of the door, while they keep knocking.

“Miss Y/n? May we come in?” The manager asked finding the silence quite hard to ignore.

You juggle your own moans and your voice trying to separate them. You deeply breathe out and your voice is very muffled and strained by your lacking sinful thoughts of how good Taeyong’s mouth on your wet soaking pussy is. “N-no! Me and Taeyong are doing something— v-very important right now…!”

The managers stood there quiet reacting to your response. Maybe they should leave you two alone to discuss your work process?

The snapping motion of your stomach finally lets go and your pussy juice spews down from your aching wet hole into Taeyong’s mouth who didn’t waste a single drop. He darkly muffled. “That’s it… such a good girl…” he whispers keenly against your folds and you shudder at how hot he absolutely sounds. It’s so difficult to not be moaning out his name; heck you’d chant it not moan it loudly. You’d be chanting it as if it was a holy hymn meant to be sang to the world how good he ate you out.

You whimper. “G-gosh I can’t do this anymore Tae…” You say as your fingers fiddle in his hair and he murmurs softly kissing your overstimulated pussy humming. “Just a little bit more hm?”

You can’t say no when he’s so persuasive with the way his voice has his power over you. Taeyong knew you cannot reject him when he’s having so much fun controlling you right now.

“Miss Y/n but the coffee is getting cold? Will you and Taeyong be okay with that?” The managers come back asking as if they were worried more about the coffee meanwhile Taeyong was busy trying to destroy you from inside and out.

He’s loving this fucked out version of you so much, it’s impossible not to fall in love with you.

You wanted to tell the managers to already go away and do something with their life than to disrupt your time together, but then again, deep inside the idea of getting caught makes this even more thrill seeking to you in your opinion.

You muffle your groans out. “T-that’s fine— leave the coffee outside the door…!”

Taeyong smirks as he finally sees you getting closer to your second orgasm and this time you didn’t bother to hold back you simply let it run over you taking your first hand pushing it down to his head grinding his face on it. He loves it when you start to fidget with yourself and force yourself on his face — you love face fucking him when your orgasm was reaching its peak washing you both down with your juices spilling down your thighs and on the desk now. Your moans was incredibly strong that Taeyong had to reach up putting his hand on your mouth covered by your own lubricant from your orgasm, so your moans don’t come out.

Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel your orgasm washing away and soon Taeyong let’s your mouth become free from his mouth as he deeply kisses you. You feel your stomach panting in and out.

He whispers leaning down. “I like the name by the way.”

You raise your eyes up at him dazed and confused. “What name?”

He smirks. “Shalala.” Taeyong’s eyes never leave yours because he finds them to be the prettiest little orbs of life he ever dreamed to see. “I like it, Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile in response, overwhelmed with pride and joy to know he likes it.

“I am glad…”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - chapter five | we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.9k

summary: you know you have to end your fake relationship with ben, you just have to find the right time. and get through one more big event as his girlfriend. ft. special guest appearance by mason!!! (and lots of angst)

A/N: once again i'm sorry for the delay in updating, i've had a busy couple of weeks! i also apologize in advance for this chapter...title is from wonderland by taylor

previous chapter | view all chapters

The week following the Nike party, you once again find yourself in the difficult position of avoiding your best friend/fake boyfriend.

This time, though, it’s not because you’re confused about how you’re feeling about him. It’s because you’re now painfully aware of the fact that you’re in love with him, and it’s very hard to be around him and pretend you’re not.

It’s also much harder to pretend to be his girlfriend in public now, which is why you know you need to tell him this is over. You just don’t know how - or when.

You know for certain that you’re going to have to wait until his international break this week is over, as the last thing you want to do is mess with his head before he takes on Italy at Wembley on Sunday. When he texts you from the training camp that he’s likely to be on the starting lineup, you’re so happy for him that you almost forget how dire the situation is. 

You’ve already agreed to attend the game and sit in the players lounge with his family, as well as attend the team dinner with him afterward. These are all things a girlfriend would do - although they’re also all things you’ve done many times before you were “dating” - but you’re dreading it. 

It’s going to be incredibly painful sitting there cheering him on in his kit and holding his hand at dinner knowing all of this has an expiration date. That it isn’t real.

When Sunday rolls around, you reluctantly put on Ben’s jersey - a brand-new England one this time, which he had delivered to you this week - and prepare yourself for the task at hand. You just need to get through today. You’ll tell him tomorrow that this needs to end, and hopefully you will have done enough to repair his image by now that whatever statement his publicist writes about your “amicable breakup” will suffice. As much as it’s killing you to keep this going, you’re not sure you would have it in you to end it if Ben will suffer for it. 

His mum and sister come to pick you up so you can go to Wembley together, and you force a smile as Sally chats excitedly about the match ahead and thanks you profusely for what you’re doing for Ben. This makes you feel even worse, as you can’t really explain to Ben’s mother that you might have to put his reputation on the line once again because you’ve gone and fallen in love with him. 

Or perhaps that you’ve been in love with him the whole time without realizing it. And that you being in love with him is the reason you agreed to be his fake girlfriend so easily. 

And maybe that it’s why it’s why it’s never worked out with any of your past boyfriends. You’d always assumed they were threatened by Ben because they weren’t used to boys and girls being so close or they were intimidated by him being a footballer, but maybe there was some merit to it - maybe it’s why it didn’t even cross your mind that pretending to date Ben might interfere with your love life.

But those are all thoughts you don’t have time to dwell on right now, as your Uber is pulling up to the stadium and you have to mentally prepare for an entire day and night with Ben and many of his closest friends and family. 

You’re escorted by England staff to a bustling room full of people and given your VIP passes for the day. You weren’t sure if the players would be allowed to mingle with their guests before warmups, but it seems Southgate is going a bit easy on them as they’re already leading their group in the qualifiers and they’ve been training hard all week. This is nice for the boys, but not so great for you.

As soon as you walk into the lounge, Ben runs over to greet you, enveloping his mum and Alex in a quick hug before giving you a casual peck on the cheek that feels too casual, too reflexive. You barely even register it until he’s pulled back and is beaming at you.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmurs in a low, sincere voice that you know is only meant for you to hear. “I missed you this week.”

Your brain can’t seem to conjure a response, apparently overwhelmed by the slightest bit of attention from the man you’ve known just about your entire life, but luckily you’re interrupted.

You squeal slightly as you feel someone hug you from behind, but you relax as you turn to see it’s only Mason. Returning his bright smile, you throw your arms around him to hug him tightly. 

“Mason, it’s been forever!” you exclaim as you pull back. 

Mason has always been one of your favourites of Ben’s friends, and you’ve been quite close with him ever since Ben joined Chelsea. You think you’ve missed him almost as much as Ben has since his transfer to Manchester United.

“I know,” Mason sighs. “Been a crazy few months, but it’s nice to be back in London for a few days and see everyone.”

“Especially his best mate who he abandoned,” Ben jokes, making both you and Mason roll your eyes instinctively. “I’m gonna show Mum and Alex to the bar, you want anything, Y/N?”

“Um, no, I’m good, thanks,” you say a bit stiffly, fiddling with the seam of your shirt and avoiding eye contact.

Ben looks a bit confused but doesn’t press you further, probably because you’re surrounded by people, and nods once before walking away with Alex and Sally. 

As soon as he’s gone, Mason looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Has Ben not told you about our…arrangement?” you ask quietly.

“No, he has,” Mason shakes his head. “I mean why are you being weird privately? Are you guys fighting or something?”

You let out a sigh - if Mason picked up on how awkward that interaction was then Ben definitely did too, and that’s the last thing you want. 

“It’s nothing. I’m just…reconsidering the arrangement,” you admit. “It’s become a lot harder than I expected.”

“Too hard pretending to be in love with Ben? Fair enough,” Mason says with a slight chuckle, which quickly fades when he sees your serious expression.

“More like…too easy,” you murmur.

He’s the first person you’re confessing this to, as it’s still too terrifying for you to even fathom, let alone speak out loud. It does feel like a small weight off your chest, but that’s replaced by another wave of fear. You know Mason won’t tell anyone, but saying it makes it seem all the more real.

“Seriously?” Mason asks with wide eyes.

“Please don’t say anything to him.”

“I won’t, but…holy shit, Y/N. You’re in love with Ben. I mean, I always thought there was something, but-“

“Keep your voice down,” you scold him quietly, before his words fully grip you. “Wait, you knew?”

“Well, you guys have always been so close.”

“He’s also close with you and Tom and Madders and-“

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Mason says gently yet firmly at the same time, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You should tell him.”

“I…I can’t,” you sigh. “He doesn’t feel the same way, and I can’t risk losing him completely.”

“But-“

He doesn’t get to finish his rebuttal before Ben returns to your side, passing you a glass.

“Got you a water just in case, you looked a bit pale,” he says softly with a gentle hand on your back, making your heart thump so hard in your chest that you’re worried it’s going to explode. “But say the word and I’ll swap it out for a G&T.”

Damn this boy and his thoughtful gestures and how well he knows you and how cute he looks in his training kit. It’s going to be a long day. 

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile, ignoring the knowing looks Mason is sending your way.

The boys say goodbye shortly after to go prepare for the game, and you find Alex and Sally once more so you can make your way to your seats.

It’s a tense game, even if you weren’t already tense going into it. Both teams have a goal going into the second half, and possession has been a pretty even split so far. As the clock begins to run out, it looks like a draw is likely - until Ben volleys it into the net with less than five minutes to go and scores the winner.

Of course he looks insanely good doing it, too - you really hope Sally is distracted enough by celebrating Ben’s goal that she doesn’t see how you’re staring at her son like he’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen in your life, which he very well might be. You’re completely in awe of him as he celebrates the goal and, as soon as the whistle is blown, the win, with his teammates. 

God forbid he just be your insanely attractive, smart, caring best friend, he also has to be a national hero today. 

Everyone is caught up in the excitement of another win, solidifying England’s place in the Euros, as you make your way down to the tunnels to congratulate the boys.

When you see Ben, you don’t know what comes over you, but every single rational thought that existed in your brain a few hours ago flies out the window. You know you should be holding back, but instead you find yourself running straight toward him and flinging your arms around his neck.

Ben immediately catches you and pulls you close, and despite how sweaty he is and how many people are watching, you can’t seem to get close enough. You squeeze him tight as he lifts you off the ground for a moment. 

“You were amazing,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

When he pulls back, part of you expects to snap out of whatever spell he has you under, but it’s the exact opposite - you see his wide eyes and bright smile and it suddenly feels hard to stand. 

Ben must notice your sudden lightheadedness, as his hands find your waist and keep you steady. 

“You alright?” he asks you quietly, and you nod.

“Yeah, I’m just so proud of you,” you say, and it’s half of the truth. The other half is that you’re so in love with him you can hardly breathe. “That was so incredible.”

Ben smiles and squeezes your waist tighter, somehow both grounding you and making you feel like you’re floating at the same time. 

“Thank you for being here,” he breathes. 

You think you could stand here in his arms, staring into his bright blue eyes, for the rest of eternity, but you’re still in a room full of people, all of whom want Ben’s attention at the moment. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Ben says softly as he’s being summoned for an interview, and you just nod and watch him go.

You continue to watch him with pride from afar as he answers questions about the match and his goal.

His gaze periodically drifts over to you, his smile growing each time your eyes meet. 

You realize that although this may be the first time you’ve been able to identify what the feelings are, this isn’t the first time you’ve looked at him and felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

You felt this way when he showed up at your dorm with all your favourite foods and spent the entire night helping you study for a chemistry exam. You felt it when he got his first England call-up and FaceTimed you before anyone else. You’ve felt it when you’re watching a film and he adds his own little commentary that would annoy you if it were anyone but him. 

At your best and worst moments, through the years and across miles that separated you, it’s always been Ben.

As Sally and Alex leave to find the washroom, you see Mason approaching you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Nice game,” you say to him a bit shyly, knowing that he’s caught you staring at his best mate like he hung the stars. 

“Thanks,” Mason says with a soft look, throwing his arm around you. “You should tell him tonight, Y/N. The game is over and he has the next week off. It’s the perfect time.”

“I can’t,” you reiterate, “he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How do you know?”

“Mase, the whole reason we’re doing this is because he has a reputation for being a fuckboy, remember?” you whisper to him. “He’s never seen me that way.”

“Y/N…”

You’re once again saved from Mason’s line of questioning when Ben begins to wave you over to where the players are all taking photos with their significant others in front of the England flag.

“Tell him,” Mason whispers to you once more as you begin to walk away, walking directly over to the man your brain is telling you to run away from. 

Your heart rate is still struggling to return to normal from the hug earlier, and it doesn’t help things when Ben immediately pulls you into his side for the photo, fingers splayed across your hip.

“You two are adorable!” the girl taking the photo, someone from the media team, exclaims with a grin. “Would you like to do one with a kiss?”

You’re aware that it might look suspicious if you don’t kiss him when all the other couples have, so you’re already racking your brain for an excuse when you feel Ben looking at you.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, keeping his gaze locked to yours, and your stomach flips as you realize he’s asking for your consent. 

The rest of the world seems to cease to exist for a moment. You can’t hear the camera flashes or see the dozens of people watching you. Everything disappears except Ben, and his lips that are dangerously close to kissing yours should you give him permission. 

Once again, your feelings overtake your common sense, and your head is nodding before your brain can catch up. 

Your eyes shut on reflex as Ben presses his lips to yours. 

It’s the most amazing kiss of your life.

His lips are soft and warm and they mold so seamlessly against yours, like they were sculpted for this very purpose. 

It only lasts a moment, but it’s long enough to know that you could spend the rest of eternity kissing him. 

When you slowly open your eyes, the look on Ben’s face snaps you out of your idyllic trance and brings you crashing back down to reality.

His eyes are wide, and he looks a bit like he’s seen a ghost. While you were fantasizing about what could be, he appears uncomfortable. Ashamed, even.

Of course he is. You’ve just kissed the man you love, but he’s just kissed his platonic best friend as part of an elaborate PR scheme. 

You’ve been living in a fairytale, getting swept up in a world where you are Ben’s girlfriend and his feelings for you are genuine, but it’s not real.

It never will be.

“I-I have to go,” you mutter quietly, shaking your head as you pull away from his embrace.

Your vision goes a bit blurry as you desperately look for an exit, brushing past Mason as he tries to ask if you’re okay and marching toward the door.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You can hear Ben’s voice as you walk quickly through the tunnels of Wembley, trying to find your way to the street so you can get an Uber and get out of there.

“Y/N, please stop and just talk to me for a minute!”

You begin to jog away in your desperation to avoid speaking to him right now, but you realize it’s not very realistic that you’re going to outrun a professional footballer, so you stop when you hear him getting closer.

“Ben, just let me go,” you sigh in exasperation.

He’s looking at you with wide eyes, and when he reaches out to touch your arm, you recoil from him.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Ben insists. “Are you upset that I kissed you? I thought you were saying you were okay with it, or else I never would have-“

“It’s fine, Ben, I just can’t do this anymore,” you say, trying to get the words out quickly so he doesn’t hear your voice tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do what?” he questions. “You mean…this? The plan?”

You nod and watch Ben’s face fall in disappointment. Despite how your heart is aching right now, you still feel terrible for letting him down. All you ever wanted was to help him, and now your stupid feelings have gone and messed everything up. 

“I’m sorry, Ben, I can’t,” you say, clenching your jaw to keep from crying. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” he says again, voice softer this time as he reaches out to grab your hand. “Please tell me what happened. Did I do something?”

It hurts you to see him so distraught over upsetting you when he doesn’t know the reason why, when his only crime is making you fall in love with him. 

“Nothing happened,” you insist, once again pulling away from his touch even though it feels like cutting off a limb. “I just need some space and everything be fine, I promise.”

You turn to walk away from him with tears streaming down your face, knowing that for the first time in your life, you’ve made a promise to him you’re not sure you can keep.

a/n: let me know what you thought!!! your comments/asks make my day! tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe​ @batmansb1tch​ @ncentic​ @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @chilwellspulisic @maraudersmap123 (let me know if you would like to be added or if i missed you!)

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Mafia AU - Family Business

After my last post about the Blouin family in the Mafia AU for Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack I wound up going on a little extra ramble over on my twitter (calling it X is too weird for me) about how the family business got started. I figured I'd post it here too to make it easier to read and reference later.

It all started with a small business run by the beautiful Alma Blouin and her husband ???

I'd call him [Redacted] but that alias is taken already, so let's stick with what was written in the family tree, shall we?

I was inspired by Makes me Smile, an engaging story written by Sauce that takes place in the SunnyTime Town AU, that it actually started as a family-run traveling carnival that was a cover for more shady business. The family name and business wound up taking up some permanent roots in St. Valens because of Marceau.

There were more opportunities in that crime-riddled city to do backrooms deals, score illicit substances, and other stuff like that. St. Valens was a city rife with crooked cops and people with dubious morals. Sadly, this hasn't changed in present day. If anything, it's only gotten worse. It just can hide behind a shiny new coat of paint and colorful smiles thanks to the Blouin family taking over so many local businesses under their brand name of SunnyTime LLC.

Lucy Connolly is actually responsible for the SunnyTime brand, which is one reason why she kept her last name even after marrying Marceau Blouin. Since she was young, she wanted to make it big in the city, really clean up the town. She succeeded in making it big, but somewhere along the way she got sucked into a world full of sin and vice where her formally black and white view of morality was blurred with many shades of gray. She's still trying to do the right thing, particularly for her family and people she wants to protect, but sometimes she found it was necessary to do morally questionable things to do it. It was a slow corruption of innocence in a sense.

In a way, Jack gets his more twisted view on right and wrong from Lucy, as Marceau is a bit more up front about how messed up the criminal underworld is and their involvement in it. Jack tries to keep things as "friendly" as possible if he can help it, so to speak.

Marceau started off the business in St. Valens with an entertainment club. You had to know the right signs to get access to the good stuff they didn't show on the menu, stuff that could get you thrown in jail if you didn't have the money to pay off the cops.

One night, Lucy stopped by the club that had suddenly got so popular, thinking it was entirely legitimate, and it led to that fateful first encounter between her and Marceau.

Marceau didn't think he'd be staying in St. Valens long, even if he was trying to take advantage of the place for as long as possible, but Lucy was invested in the city, as it was her hometown. She was friendly and outgoing, and she knew a lot of people there. She grew up with them.

Lucy had a good sense for business, which places would be good to snap up for a song. She knew about the issues with many local gangs and how they intimidated local businesses into giving them a cut of their earnings to not get roughed up. She wanted to stop that sort of thing from happening so that innocent people could live their lives without fear.

Which is why the Blouin family in the present does take care of the citizens of St. Valens and stomp out more unsavory practices like human trafficking. Essentially Lucy wanted justice and went vigilante. (Insert Joker reference/joke here.) When it became clear that not everyone she tried to save was good, well…

That led into her corrupted world view and a more "ends justify the means" approach.

Marceau had been taught to watch his back and stand on his own, not having the best home life. In a sense, Lucy taught him to care more about others, that he could have someone he could trust to watch her back, and he taught her how to not let others take advantage of her and those she cares for.

Really, in the present day, the Blouins own a lot of businesses in a variety of sectors, from entertainment to scientific research to home electronics to weapons manufacturing. They're spread out across not just the SunnyTime LLC brand, but plenty of sub-companies with different names that the average person might not realize is owned by them. The SunnyTime brand has become a known trustworthy across the country and are spreading out slowly internationally.

Well… technically the family business is known internationally, just not in any public circles, and not under any brand name. Marceau alone has committed quite a few international crimes, though no one has been able to pin anything on him publicly. Lucy does a good job of keeping their public facing image squeaky clean, and she won't anyone hurt or take away any of her family.

Now that Jack is in charge, it's his turn to take care of the family and the business. Despite his issues with human touch, both them, and his sunshine, are in good hands.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were: If It's Forever, It's Even Better

a/n: this a fast forward into the life of callum and evelyn because i think about the pure happiness of domesticity that the both of them would have. i hope you all enjoy this glimpse into the future and send me all you thoughts on it. love youuuu

tw: smut

Evelyn smiled gracefully as the sounds of photographers being taken echoed around her. She was posing in front of the Eiffel Tower in the latest collection from Loewe, serving as one of their newest brand ambassadors for Fashion Week. 

It was her first big event after the recent birth of her daughter, Melanie, and the embroidered fabric was not entirely forgiving but she was a professional. Ready and willing to maintain her commitments and do so with a smile on her face when all she really wanted to do was hide in her hotel room with Callum and their babies.

 The thought of leaving Melanie at home while she flew to Paris had sparked a level of anxiety in Evelyn that she hadn’t experienced with their first daughter, Felicity. There had been so many other distractions surrounding her birth that she hadn’t had time to do anything other than react. Felicity had been a complete surprise, conceived on a private beach in Greece after Callum got word of his most recent Emmy nomination, and they had mostly succeeded at keeping Evelyn’s pregnancy a secret from the public until they were ready to share it with the world. Then Logan had struck. Sued Evelyn and asked for a paternity test to prove she hadn’t used any of his sperm they’d frozen when they were together. Prove that Felicity was not his biological daughter. 

The entire ordeal tainted her first months of being a mother as she had to watch the toll it took on Callum to have his identity as a father questioned. To have the man they had thought they were rid of rear his ugly head and try to wrangle his poison into something as precious as their child. Evelyn had truly not known if her and Callum would be able to weather such a storm. 

“My older daughter just turned two so we had a really big, princess themed party to celebrate and my newest little one is just about six months so I’m super busy and leaning into mom life but the whirlwind is super worth it,” Evelyn answered as she doing an interview with Vogue for their social media spread of her and the few other ambassadors posing in the new collection. 

“You and your partner, the ever handsome Mr. Turner, have really nailed the street style while you’ve been here in Paris. Talk me through how you guys plan together and work together so seamlessly.” 

“Thank you for saying that because it took a lot of work for me to remind him he has more than one pair of pants and one pair of sneakers,” Evelyn laughed as she thought of the white Nikes he had brought around the world with them for the first couple years of their relationship, “at this point in our lives together, with two kids, we have just really become a team. We’ve gotten our own little language down and have figured out how to hit that level of synchronization that makes our day and our daughters day go smoothly so I think that when you see us looking cute at a cafe or something it’s because we are both sharing the same exhausted little brain cell and that is guiding our clothing choices right now.” She smiled, trying to hide the truth of the exhaustion behind her words, but couldn’t help how happy she was. The rhythm they had found as partners and parents was something they had each only ever dreamed of. 

Their lack of engagement or marriage was less of a fight than it had been before Felicity, the commitment of having a child together meaning more to either of them than a ring and a piece of paper ever could. That didn’t stop Callum from checking in on her feelings towards marriage on occasion. Evelyn knew it would always be something he wanted. And a part of her had been thinking about how she was going to tell him that it was now something she wanted too. Wanted to be his wife and have him be her husband and show their daughters that marriage was not something to be afraid of. Show them that their mother was healing from her past and their father was an integral part of them. Give them the opportunity to have an example to follow in their parents of what a relationship should be. 

“What’s on your schedule this week in Paris?”

“My daughters are here with me so we’ve got to check off some of the tourist attractions. Maybe a quick stop over to Disneyland but really it’s the City of Love so I’m just happy to be here with the three people that are teaching me what that word really means and share in everything Paris has to offer with them.” Evelyn paused. “I’m sorry for the sappy answer. I can do that over if you want something more fashion based.” She could see Tracy, her publicist, inching closer from the sidelines. The interviewer shook her head.

“No, ma’am. This was perfect. The you that is shining through is exactly what we are looking for.”

“Thanks, Ava, we’ll be in touch once you have the first draft ready for approval,” Tracy said with a smile as Evelyn waved. “How you feeling? I think we’ve got enough time for you to head to the hotel and change looks before the show unless you want to do it now and change in the car.” Her security collapsed around them as they began to walk towards the waiting SUV, fans waving and snapping grainy photos for update Twitter accounts as Evelyn passed them.

“Hotel. My boobs hurt and I’m on the verge of leaking.” She grimaced as the nipple covers did nothing to protect her from the fabric of her dress. “Am I talking too much about being a mother in these interviews?” 

“No. It’s an important part of who you are now. I’m comfortable with you sharing as much as feels right to you,” Tracy responded as the door closed behind them and she was busily typing on her phone. “I’m just glad they’ve stopped asking when you’re getting married.” Evelyn merely hummed in agreement. 

“About that…how much warning would you want before a wedding?” Tracy paused her typing.

“Is there something I should know about?”

“No, not yet. I’ve just been thinking about it lately. Might have come around to the idea,” Evelyn shrugged as if it was nothing. 

“I’m happy for you, Ev. Both of you. I can’t think of two people more deserving of the life you’ve built.” Evelyn smiled and looked at the wallpaper on her phone. A photo from behind of her two daughters and Callum watching the fireworks at Disney World a couple weeks ago. She’d give anything to ensure a lifetime of moments just like that for all of them. It made her giddy to think about the life they had ahead of them. 

Evelyn was finally starting to think that she deserved it too.

----

She opened the hotel room door carefully as it was nap time, hoping to be met by the silence of two sleeping little girls. 

“What’s wrong my little princess?” she cooed as her eyes zeroed in on Melanie, her cheeks red and streaked with tears as her father was bouncing her around the sitting area in the hope she would settle. “Come here.” Callum transferred her and her crying stopped. 

“You get to come in and save the day,” he muttered as he puckered his lips for a kiss. 

“My boob game is stronger, baby, I’m sorry.” She kissed him, nuzzling his nose for a little extra love, before turning around. “Can you unzip me? It’s probably a good time for her to eat.” The dress pooled around her feet, Evelyn tossing the uncomfortable nipple covers into the trash before sitting comfortably in an armchair. 

“You just wanted your mum,” Callum kissed his daughter’s forehead as she latched onto her mother with ease and pulled milk into her mouth. 

“That feels so good,” Evelyn groaned, “I was about to burst while I was working this morning.” He pressed a kiss into the top of her head before sitting in the chair to her right, his forearms resting on the top of his thighs as he watched the two of them intently. 

“How did it go this morning?”

“Felt good to get dolled up and work again but I missed the girls.” She had missed Felicity endlessly after she’d had her and had thought she would miss Melanie in the same way. It had been something more intense as if the emotions were compounded into each other. The same way her heart had grown to accommodate her love for them, so had her capacity for despair in missing them.  “What did you troublemakers get up to?” she asked, her finger gently stroking over baby-soft cheeks.

“Liss and I snuggled for a bit before breakfast then we went for a little walk,” he left out the part where he’d let Felicity drink hot chocolate before nap time, “we had a small little dance party when we got back before coloring time and now here we are.” Melanie popped away from her meal with a gurgle, smiling up at her mother with a milk-drunk haze to her eyes. 

“Someone thoroughly enjoyed herself, didn’t she, my little love?” Evelyn hummed as Callum reached for the baby and rested her against the burp cloth on his shoulder. She retrieved one of his t-shirts from the dresser, the hem hitting her mid-thigh, and kissed his shoulder as she walked passed towards the bathroom. “A few years ago we would’ve been in disguise trying to walk around the city or spending the day just rotating between sex in bed and sex in the shower.” Evelyn smiled in the mirror as she checked how much work her makeup artist would have to do before the Loewe show in a couple hours. 

“Sometimes I miss it then I look at our two princesses and feel like we had no idea it was going to get even better.” Melanie let out a burp, a little bit of milk dribbling onto the cloth as she looked over at her father like she had surprised even herself. 

“Such a big burp for a little love!” Evelyn smoothed her hand over the tufts of hair on her daughter's head and kissed her gently. 

There was a gentle knock on the door and she knew it was her glam team and stylist ready to get her prepared for the show. The little bubble of domesticity burst. A quick check behind the door to the bedroom showed her burgeoning toddler still sleeping, the baby monitor on the nightstand not proof enough, and she clicked the door back closed softly. 

“We’ll get out of your way,” Callum whispered as Melanie’s eyes were closing slowly and opening again even slower. He moved towards the room, content to take a nap with both his daughters while Evelyn primped herself for the evening, but was stopped by her hand on his elbow. 

“Baby? Thank you. For being the best partner ever through all of this.” When his career surged, she was there every step of the way. When she had doubts about her ability to work and devote herself fully to motherhood, he had stood strong by her side and never let the shadows consume her. He met her weaknesses with strength. Didn’t shy away from taking an active role with their daughters while she worked. They let each other shine and live in the spotlight they earned. 

“I love you, Ev.” He kissed her soundly. “Being with you and the girls, I’ll never need anything else.” She smiled as another knock sounded on the door, this one a little bit more impatient. 

“Dream of me,” she teased as she headed towards the door. 

“What were you saying about the bed and the shower?” His voice trailed off as he disappeared into the bedroom, Evelyn’s giggling floating after him. 

She opened the door with her trademark, movie star smile. The reprieve was always nice. But now, as they wheeled in two racks of clothing and carried in duffle bags of hair and makeup supplies, it was back to work.

----

Evelyn did her best to sneak out of the show as quickly as she could without being rude. She had sat in the front row next to Anna Wintour, an absolute honor, and made sure to pose for plenty of photos with JW Anderson, the creative director of Loewe, before making her great escape. Past versions of her would have partied all night and stumbled under the withering gaze of paparazzi and been eager to do it all over again for the rest of the week of festivities. 

This version of her was fighting sleep in the backseat of a SUV and aching to remove her makeup and crawl into bed with her partner with anticipation for one, if not both, of her daughters to wake her up with the sun the next morning. She smiled to herself as her forehead rested on the window. Never in her life could she have imagined being this happy. Never in her life did she think she would be able to get over the devastation of Logan and land on the other side. 

“Hey. You didn’t have to wait up for me.” Evelyn tiptoed quietly across the room and kissed Callum soundly where he was lying in bed with a book, the one his next project was based on. She looked down at the baby monitor and smiled at the sight of her two little angels sleeping peacefully. 

“Felt like I didn’t get to see you at all today.” The arrival of Melanie had meant a period of blissful time where both of them were home and no work was popping up to distract them. It had been pure serenity even though the chaos of adding a second child to the mix could not be understated. Callum had never been more in love with her than he had been since the birth of Felicity, the addition of Melanie amplifying his devotion to a level he was still trying to comprehend. 

“You want to take a shower with me?” she hummed with a twinkle to her eyes. He leaned in for another kiss as he nodded, throwing the blankets to the side with a sense of urgency. They held hands as he followed her into the bathroom, her dress riding up the back of her thighs to expose the lace of her panties as she bent over the tub. 

“Already got me half hard,” he mumbled as his finger reached to push the hem up the last little bit to expose the back of her panties to him fully. She stood with a laugh and turned back towards him with her arms up. He lifted the dress up and over her head with a groan at the sight of her breasts, still plump and full from the recent birth of their daughter. Callum hadn’t been able to properly enjoy them with how sensitive they had been lately. His hands were incredibly cautious as they traced around her nipple. 

“Fuck. That feels heavenly.” The sensation was going right between her legs and causing her clit to throb with need. “Let me at least wash my face before we get too carried away,” she asked. He removed his hand and stepped out of his plaid pants, watching her tie back her hair and wipe away her makeup with a wipe before they stepped under the hot spray of the shower. She groaned with delight as it hit her face and began to soothe the aches in her body from a long day back at work. 

Large hands drifted around her waist and traced down the front of her stomach. His thumbs rubbed the stretch marks on her skin purposefully, always referring to them as her tiger stripes, before teasing between her thighs. 

“Just relax, baby,” he murmured in her ear. With a sound of content, her head dropped back onto his shoulder as his hand slipped under her knee and guided her foot to rest on the shelf in the corner of the shower. 

“You spent all day taking care of our daughters and now you want to spend all night taking care of me?” she teased, a little out of breath with the way his fingertip was ghosting her bundle of nerves. 

“Nothing makes me happier than taking care of all of you.” It was true. It was fulfilling beyond his wildest dreams to be a father. To go on this journey with the love of his life. He had thought he’d be nervous to be alone with the two of them but it had all disappeared the minute Felicity had curled into his side and asked if she could hold her sister. 

“We’re lucky to have you.” A sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips as he increased the pressure of his ministrations. “You might be lucky too if you stop teasing me.” He chuckled and nipped at her ear but obliged her request and circled her clit with more intention. 

“You get very demanding when you’re tired,” he mused. Evelyn merely moaned in response and slowly began to buck her hips in a desperate search for more friction. Two fingers buried themselves inside her as his other hand skimmed up her side to wrap around her throat. The ever so slight pressure combined with the way the heel of his palm was rubbing her clit with each thrust of his fingers had her coming with a silent moan and quivers in her muscles.She hummed and turned in his arms to kiss him, her back hitting the shower wall and her foot going back to the tiny ledge. “Oh? Think you’ve earned me fucking you?” One hand dropped to the side of her head to cage her in while the other wrapped around his own length and pumped up and down. 

“Yes, please,” she answered. The picture of innocence. Her brows furrowed as he pushed into her slowly and her mouth dropped open in a silent moan at the sensation of him filling her to the hilt. 

“That fake little innocent voice of yours is how we got the two babies already,” he pointed out as he rocked into her and began to find a rhythm. 

“Fake? I-,” her retort cut off by his pursuit of that delicious angle only his cock knew how to reach. 

“Shit, Ev, you feel so fucking good.” His kiss was sloppy as he picked up the pace of his hips, chasing the feeling that was beginning to brew at the bottom of his stomach. 

“Cal, quicker, oh fuck,” she squeaked as her toes curled and her muscles tensed then snapped into her second orgasm, Callum answering with his eyes to the back of his head and a moan that sounded like heaven to her ears.

“I love you,” he said into her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“Marry me.” His head snapped up.

“What?”

“Marry me,” she repeated as she looked directly into his eyes. “I want to be your wife.” His breath slowly evened out as the sounds of the shower surrounded them. Evelyn all of a sudden felt nervous. Why was he taking so long to respond? Had he decided he preferred the way they were currently doing things? Did he not want to risk the balance they had found?

“Why are you saying that? Why now?” He knows it was something he had been ready to do six months after they’d met. Had never tried to hide that desire from her. For years she had struggled and agonized over marriage. Not with him, with anyone. The connotations of the union ruined from her first husband. 

“I’ve been thinking about the example I want to set for our daughters. And not that you have to be married to someone to love them or be with them forever. Just…If something scares you, running from it is not always the right answer. There are different ways to heal and letting people in who love you and want to help you is the best place to start.” He showed no sign of interrupting her. “Felicity and Melanie are all I will ever need to be healed. To know I made the right decision to leave that marriage. Marrying you…Being your wife…Fear can’t have control over those words for me anymore.” 

“I’ll marry you,” he whispered. “Are you going to let me propose to you properly or are we eloping by the river tomorrow?” 

“I would like a proper proposal, Mr. Turner,” she grinned. 

“Okay.” He nodded once, not giving an inch as to when or where he was planning to do it, before pressing his lips to hers. “While I have you nice and relaxed, I should mention I may or may not have gotten our daughter addicted to hot chocolate.”

----

“Can daddy have a sip of hot chocolate?” 

“No, Daddy!” Evelyn smirked as she watched Felicity furrow her brow and wave Callum’s hand away from her tiny cup. They were sitting on the balcony of the Angelina Cafe at the Louvre, Evelyn wanting to watch the chaos of Felicity drinking pure, melted chocolate while enjoying the moderate and sunny weather. 

“You have your own, Daddy,” she teased, careful not to jostle the baby sleeping against her chest. He shot her back a look that he said he could only deal with one of them having an attitude at a time. 

“Mommy?” Felicity extended her little hand with a half eaten croissant in it towards her mother, offering her a bite of her breakfast. 

“Oh, why thank you!” Evelyn leaned down and took a small bite and hummed like it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten in the world. Felicity giggled and took her own bite before mimicking the sounds of her mother. “Does it taste good, my love?” The toddler nodded enthusiastically before taking another bite. 

“Make sure you chew all the way,” Callum cautioned as he brought a napkin to her cheeks. There had been a particularly harrowing evening when Felicity hadn’t chewed her dinner before trying to swallow. He wasn’t keen on ever repeating that.

“Should we go look at paintings once we are done with breakfast?” Evelyn asked. She was also supposed to be taking candids with the more well known art for an upcoming Dior Beauty campaign. 

“No.”

“No? But they’re very pretty.” Felicity shook her head and reached for her cup, Callum resting his hands on top of hers to assist. 

“Mickey Mouse,” she requested as chocolate coated her lips and the tip of her nose. 

“You’ve created a monster,” he murmured around his orange juice. 

“I’m not the one who bought her a stuffed Duffy that’s bigger than her.”

“Actually, Lissy,” Callum began, “Mummy and Daddy were thinking of going to a farm. Do you think you might like that?” Evelyn looked at him with a quizzical brow. When had that ever come up as part of their day?

“Yes!” The little girl cheered, her arms almost knocking over her plate of carbs and jam.

“Okay, let’s finish our breakfast so Mummy can take her pictures then we can go.” Callum dabbed at the apricot jam at the corner of her mouth and helped her take another sip of her hot chocolate.

“What are you scheming?” Evelyn whispered around her own drink, Melanie drooling onto her shoulder.

“It’s a surprise. Don’t worry about it.”

----

Felicity was thrilled to be running through a field of flowers a few hours later. It hadn’t been a farm in the way Evelyn was thinking. There was no petting zoo or tractors rolling around. It was lush green grass and flowers and a little river with lily pads winding its way through the center. 

She had been too focused on feeding Melanie in the backseat of the car to pay any attention to where they had gone after her miniature photoshoot with the more iconic artwork of the Louvre. Both the museum and the fashion house were very pleased with the relaxed nature of the content, excited to use it as a muse for the next campaign. She had even been able to coax her two daughters into posing for a few photos with her and snuck in some full family photos before Felicity had even been able to think about throwing a tantrum.

The little girl had fallen asleep on Callum’s lap while they drove to their destination but had awoken promptly upon their arrival when she’d seen all the free space to run and chase after butterflies. She was well-behaved and knew not to go too far and looked back at her parents on occasion to make sure they were still close behind. It was when they reached the river and Evelyn saw a very distinct bridge crossing over it that she began to feel an inkling of what might be happening.

“Callum…” She froze and reached for his hand, pausing the carriage Melanie was currently resting in. “Are we…”

“At Monet’s garden? Yes.”

“And why is no one else here?” He squeezed her hand and kept pulling her forward. 

“Because I made sure we could have some privacy for the day.” She couldn’t help that her heart felt like it was thundering in her chest. She had a sense of what she thought was going on but she didn’t want to burst the bubble by mentioning it. 

“Well you’ve certainly made Felicity very happy.” Even in her few years of life, Felicity knew something wasn’t normal about it. Her friends at preschool didn’t fly all by themselves or see their mom on a billboard. She thought everyone’s dad was on TV.

Evelyn and Callum agonized over trying to keep her childhood as close to their own as possible. But these moments, where something as simple as watching their daughter run around without paparazzi struck them, they were reminded just how hard that goal could be.

“I live to make the three of you happy. Besides,” he shrugged as they neared that bridge, “If she is this happy just having some grass to run through, I can make that happen every day.” As if sensing her parents were talking about her, the little girl came running and crashed into her father’s leg with a smile. 

“Hi Daddy,” she said gleefully. He crouched down to her level and cupped his hand over his mouth before leaning to whisper in her ear. 

“I don’t trust you two when you’re whispering,” Evelyn muttered as she peeked to make sure Melanie was still asleep. 

“Rose!” Evelyn turned as Felicity ran towards their nanny who was approaching with a smile across her face. 

“Callum…” Her voice faded as he reached for her hand again and pulled her up onto the walking bridge, the two girls now under the watchful eye of Rose. 

“Baby, I’m barely hanging on by a thread,” he laughed as they reached the center of the bridge and he turned to face her and to grab both of her hands. “You told me a long time ago that your dream proposal was right here. In the middle of your favorite painting.” 

“You remembered?” Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she thought back to the moment she had told him that. A drunken night in London when she felt so safe and happy and warm that the future wasn’t scary at all. She had even allowed herself to think there was a time that she would welcome it. 

“Evvie, I remember every detail about you that you’ve trusted me with.” That future that she hoped to one day welcome. It was exactly this. Here, with the man she loved who loved her right back. Here, with her two beautiful daughters a beacon of love and happiness watching their parents with little smiles. “And you told me I didn’t have to so soon…” He dropped to one knee in front of her and she closed her eyes and shook her head to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“I should have known better than to think you could wait,” she giggled. 

“Evelyn Shaw, from the moment I looked at you, I knew we were meant to be in each other’s life. I didn’t know how or why or the moments we would share but being with you always felt so right. And it still does, every day. You gave me the honor of my life by making me a father. Being Felicity and Melanie’s father is the most important thing I will ever be and I’m hoping you’ll allow me to be your husband, a close second.” He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a perfect diamond ring. An oval diamond on a simple gold band. The ring Logan had used to propose to her had been gaudy and ostentatious. This one was perfect. A representation of the pure and unassuming love her and Callum had nurtured for years and bloomed into this beautiful, wonderful thing. Their daughters a physical embodiment of that. “Will you marry me?”

Evelyn dropped to her knees with a laugh that rang out into the air like a melody and threw her arms around his neck. “Yes, my love, yes!” She gripped his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips, as hard as she could possibly muster, tears of joy streaking down her face. 

“I love you so fucking much. You and our girls are my wildest dreams come true.” 

“You make me so happy,” she whispered as the sounds of Felicity cheering grew closer and closer. He kissed her once before sliding the ring onto her finger, kissing over the stone as a tiny toddler came crashing into her body. “Hi baby! Are you happy?” The little one nodded and giggled, her arms tight around her mother’s neck. 

“Love you,” she whispered, puckering her lips expectantly for a kiss from each of her parents. 

“I love you, too, pumpkin.” She squeaked with glee as Callum gripped under her arms and lifted her high into the sky. Felicity spread her arms like they were wings and laughed as her father flew her through the air. Evelyn stood and chased after them with her own laugh, no inhibitions anywhere on the horizon. 

The thing she once feared, she welcomed. The things she once thought would be her end, were now her beginning. And the pieces of her heart she had kept so guarded were now nestled in the palms of her fiance and her daughters to keep warm and protected. And she trusted them to do it. In a way she never would have thought possible. In a way that was freeing.

Evelyn spread her own arms like wings to match her daughter. And she smiled as she flew under the sun.

[spiribia]

re: that animatic, the synopsis for my early teen OCs was roughly as follows

- world where most children are sent from a very young age to an institution to be trained to be soldiers (I did zero meaningful worldbuilding work in this space). The academy fosters a highly competitive environment where many of the children injure or eliminate one another in wars of dominance, cohering into pack structures through alliances. This is allowed to happen because it 'weeds out the weak ones.'

- protagonist, atriel, was infamous for her ruthlessness. She co-headed a pack with her boyfriend. During one raid, she murdered the nigh-pacifist brother of a nigh-pacifist peer named Helen.

- Helen retaliated by ambushing Atriel and stabbing out her eye

- In an unrelated incident of violence enacted in revenge for one of atriel's numerous prior actions, atriel's entire pack was wiped out. The only survivor, she laid low and went into hiding. which she found incredibly debasing, but became too much of a coward by her understanding to do anything about

- for a few years, the only person atriel was in contact with was lex, another packless 'loner' by choice (considered formidable and left alone by the others)

- atriel is contacted by helen. Helen extends an invite to join her party on a mission after the academy-wide urban legend of a circle in the woods where 6 individuals could invoke otherworldly power into their bodies. This is rumored to be incredibly risky, dubiously true, and involves running away from the academy, which would brand them as defectors.

- atriel refuses to join at first, especially considering the person who is hosting this business probably hates her guts, but lex, who was also invited, sways atriel on board with the proposal of individual power and the assertion that atriel's relevance and standing in the academy is already forfeit from her years of hiding herself away, anyway. The only way she can redeem herself in the eyes of the academy, she thinks, is to return a hero with legendary power.

- the teens steal a bus and go out on a long road trip. Helen and Atriel get along civilly, though initially Atriel finds the whole business of being under Helen's leadership incredibly humiliating (she considers Helen and her motley pack too soft. Lex agrees, but considers them a means to an end), which Helen registers and derives amusement from

- Atriel begins to realize how much of the world actually exists outside of the academy. one sunset, the kids see immense fish swimming across the sky over their bus

- the kids invoke the divine and each inherit a part of its body into their bodies. Atriel becomes the thing's claws, and gains access to powerful telekinetic slashes. Lex becomes the thing's brain, and gains a kind of future and past and interdimensional vision, though the brain-wielder always ends up dying in the myth's histories, because the human body cannot handle it. Helen becomes the thing's heart. She can't discern any abilities from this, to her disappointment.

- Lex's strength rapidly wanes from being the brain, and she passes away. In her last days, she muses that she has gone soft. The kids hold a makeshift funeral for her.

- because the ritual was not closed off properly, a threatening surfeit of magic accumulates to point of eruption. Helen realizes her power as the heart is to cycle magic through her body. Therefore, she can absorb this surfeit, but will probably die. She bids the rest of the crew to escape in the bus as far as they can go. Atriel is surprised to find that she is incredibly distressed at the prospect of Helen dying, and the other kids have to hold her back from stopping it.

- the de facto leader of what remains as the bus drives away, Atriel decides she won't be going home at all, and she and the remaining kids continue down the road into the unknown

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's masterlist

❒ members: Jungkook

❒ genre: Angst

❒ words: 1.6k+

❒ summary: In which posing for Calvin Klein turns out to be a more challenging job than she'd ever thought it would be

❒ notes: I don't know what to say about this. Maybe I feel like insulting myself, maybe I feel like insulting Chaeri, maybe I feel like insulting everybody. My heart aches

❒ warnings: Confusing af

Calvin Klein with BTS' Jungkook and Chaeri

Early March 2023 (Before Harry Styles' concert in Seoul)

a little off-camera ⸻

When she set foot on the set, she was greeted by a warm welcome from the entire crew. The Calvin Klein team was thrilled to see her, having finally formalized the contract to have her as their ambassador. In the past, she had received several proposals from the brand, but her company had not yet deemed it the right time for such a mature exposure. Now, however, as a young woman whose career seemed to have transitioned from 'kpop idol' to 'global star' she could boast additional benefits, such as being able to expose herself more than the usual 'label' of the kpop world typically allowed. Chaeri had worked hard to get there, and it was finally paying off.

She shook several hands and was complimented in multiple languages, half of which she didn't even know.

Everyone seemed to swirl around her, to express how proud they were to have her as their new ambassador, how much the fans would love the photos that would be released and the mature, woman-defining image that all that would give her.

And she was ecstatic and very grateful, but she was almost relieved to be able to retreat to the changing room for a few minutes of silence.

Chaeri hoped she hadn’t come off as rude. She had tried to pay the right amount of attention to everyone, speak in her best English, and make a great first impression, despite the nervousness she felt right under her skin since waking up that morning. She cared a lot about the project and wanted it to go well.

She wasn't usually nervous in this kind of situation. For about the last ten years, the girl had lived with cameras constantly focused on her, and she had learned not to shy away from them a long time ago. With that in mind, she knew, unfortunately, that her anxiety didn't come from the upcoming photo shoot, but rather from the person she would be sharing the campaign with.

She closed the door behind her and didn't even have time to sigh in relief at having escaped all that - too much - attention. Despite the generous size of the dressing room, larger than many she'd been in, someone's presence seemed to occupy every available inch.

She expected them to have separate areas to prepare for the shoot, but instead Chaeri found Jungkook stretched out on a sofa. Dressed in his usual black clothes, he stood out sharply against the white leather sofa. He was holding a cell phone in his tattooed hand while his hair looked even longer and wilder than she remembered.

He looked up as she entered, and their eyes met for the first time in weeks, since the day he had driven her back to her apartment after living together for weeks.

Her accident earlier in the year had forced her into weeks of painful rehabilitation and forced rest. The other members of the group had such busy schedules that no one could help her on a consistent basis. But he wasn't as busy and had offered to stay by her side. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to be the one person that she could rely on during that stressful time. So they were back under the same roof, in the dormitory they had left some time before, to start a life with more privacy. His eyes widened slightly as well, a sign that he hadn't had any idea that he would be sharing the room with Chaeri. Clearing his throat, though, he put the phone in his pocket, straightened, and said, "Hey" His voice was warm and deep.

Unable to connect with the part of her brain responsible for moving her legs, Chaeri paused at the threshold of the just-closed door. "Hey" she tried to keep her voice steady.

This was exactly what she had been dreading. She didn't know how to act around him anymore. It seemed that since she had recovered and returned to her regular life, something had been left unresolved between them.

Somebody tried to open the door and Chaeri was hit in the back, which eventually caused her feet to move and finally step into the room, clearing the way for the staff. "We've been informed that the bathroom in the other dressing room has a leak, and now both rooms are unusable. It looks like you're going to have to share this dressing room. If that's okay with you, of course. They say they apologize for the inconvenience." A tall girl with a dark ponytail and charming purple glasses had bowed her head slightly in apology. She wore a badge around her neck identifying her as a staff member.

Jungkook looked at her, his eyes big and dark, filled with longing. They were just like she remembered them. As they had always been.

"No problem, we'll take turns" he finally said, and Chaeri nodded, agreeing to the boy's proposed solution.

The purple-glasses girl clasped her hands, her lips forming a perfect arch, curling upward, her upper lip slightly plumper. "Great. We'll start with you, Jungkookie, since you arrived first." Jungkookie?

Then she slowly turned her head toward Chaeri, her eyebrows raised slightly. "Is that a problem?" Her tone was firm, as if it didn't matter what the girl was going to answer, because she had already decided. That made Chaeri narrow her eyes. She didn't like it. "No problem"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Jungkook returned to the dressing room only when Chaeri was almost ready, sitting in front of a mirror surrounded by bright lights that reflected their images. Her makeup artists were focused on her face, putting on the finishing touches with precision as they added a touch of blush and glitter at the corners of her eyes. Jungkook's reflection was timid, his hands tucked into the pockets of the denim jeans they had chosen for him for the photo shoot. They were straight-cut, light-colored, hugging his hips before falling wider along his thighs - exactly what she would have picked for him if she had been in charge. The silence between them, and the embarrassment he seemed to feel as he looked around the room uncertainly, not knowing whether it was appropriate to meet her gaze or not, made Chaeri's stomach turn. 

This gave her a burst of confidence to initiate a conversation, to break the tension, because nothing bothered her more than seeing Jungkook struggling.

"So, we're doing the denim shots first, right?

Jungkook's eyes flicked over to her in the mirror, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, that's what they said. Denim shots first" he confirmed

"I confirm. Denim shots, you're up now. Are you ready?" The girl with the purple glasses interrupted.

Chaeri didn't remember ever seeing her before, yet she was clearly part of Hybe. Could she be new? They must have changed the hiring requirements, and the most important one must surely be 'being annoying,' no doubt about it.

Yet the fact that she referred to Jungkook so informally suggested to her that she had probably been there longer than she imagined, or simply that the two had become quite close in a short time.

She shook off those thoughts that were taking root in her mind, brushing them away like they were parasites on one of her favorite houseplants. She told herself that in the end, it was normal to ask those questions, to have a certain type of curiosity about the people who got close to her members. There was no other reason except a terribly bad habit of that.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

As they entered the set, they were warmly greeted by the rest of the Calvin Klein staff. Everything was prepared, from the lights to the cameras pointed at them to the background of the scene. Before they began, the artistic director made sure to share his vision for the project and how he expected things to be done. Luckily for him and the two of them, the connection was immediate.

They started with individual shots. Chaeri posed with ease, every shot showing off her curves and the denim outfit in the best way possible. Jungkook too was a natural, his toned physique and smoldering gaze making for the perfect shot.

But when it was time for the duo shots, things got a little awkward.

The first concept was to show the lower part of their bodies to enhance the jeans they were wearing.

They were instructed to lean against each other, Jungkook's hands on her pants, while Chaeri's hands rested on his chest.

As they got into position, haeri couldn't help her body's automatic response to the boy's touch, recalling all the times he had held her like that, in very different circumstances. Silly tactile memory.

When Jungkook's hands brushed against her hips, She held her breath for a second.

That situation was putting her in a tough spot.

"Sorry" he whispered, probably sensing the strange and unnatural stiffness in which she was in his arms.

"It's fine" she replied. They had to get the job done.

As the photographer started snapping away, Chaeri tried to focus on the job at hand and shut up those useless and disrespectful thoughts that surfaced in his mind from time to time.

She was dating Hongjoong and not him.

He was probably seeing that cute staff girl and not her.

Things were clear, weren't they?

They were just good friends now, or rather 'family’, nothing more.

But as the shoot progressed and every time Jungkook's hands brushed against her or their bodies came too close, her mind went blank.

It was like she was caught in a whirlwind of past emotions.

As they moved on to the next concept, things only got worse. This time, they were asked to lay on top of each other, their bodies pressed together while being face to face.

It was too much for Chaeri. She could feel Jungkook's breath on her face, his body heat radiating against hers. It was like all of her senses were on high alert, and she couldn't focus on anything else.

"Jungkook" Chaeri told him, turning her face to the side to break that eye contact they had forced them to make.

"What's wrong?" his voice was low, probably due to the fact that he did not want to be heard by anyone but her and, moreover, by the fact that she was literally pressed against his chest.

"I don't know" she said, her voice shaky. "I just...I can't do this."

Jungkook sat up, and she was quick to stand up and bow to the photographer in apology "I'm sorry, I just need a break" Chaeri rushed off the set, not looking back until she had reached the safety of her changing room. Her heart was racing, and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling this way?

She sat down on the couch, letting out a deep breath. She needed to calm down and get her head back in the game. That shoot was important for her career, and she had just bailed without a valid reason. She mentally called herself stupid.

As she was trying to catch her breath and regain her composure, the door to the changing room opened, and Jungkook walked in.

"Are you okay?" the boy's voice was soft. You could tell from his face that he was worried, conflicted. He had sucked his lower lip  slightly, biting it with his teeth. He took a few steps forward until he was brave enough to sit on the couch by her side.

She could smell the scent of his cologne. Bulgari.

Her and V had gifted it to him years before, and since then the guy had repurchased it bottle after bottle.

She cleared her throat "I'm okay" she said, trying to sound convincing.

"No, you're not" he said, his eyes searching hers. "You've been acting strange ever since I got here."

Chaeri looked away, unable to meet his gaze. 

"You think I..." he began, taking a brief pause, nervously moving the piercing on the side of his lip with his tongue. "You think I didn't notice how you reacted to every shot we took together? Call me stupid, Chaeri, but I haven't forgotten the way your body responded to mine. And now it seemed just like..."

Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong Hongjoong

In her head rumbled the name of the boy who had been so patient and sweet with her, who had shown her that love could also be experienced in freedom, without having to hide, without having to lie, without having to pretend to be something that you are not.

"I really don't know what you are talking about, so stop it” She interrupted him abruptly, angry with him, and especially angry with herself “Stop assuming about an us.”

I’m an horrible person, she thought.

Jungkook's face fell and Chaeri could feel the tension in the air. She hated hurting him, but she couldn't let it happen. Let nothing between them happen.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, standing up from the couch. "I didn't mean to make things awkward."

Chaeri watched as he walked towards the door, feeling a pang of regret, but she didn't think she could handle being around him without wanting more. Not after the weeks she had spent with him, not after the way he had cared for her, not after the way his touch had reminded her of the feelings she was forced to suppress for years by then.

"Jungkook" she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned around, his eyes meeting hers once again.

"I'm sorry too," she said, standing up from the couch. "I just...I can't do this. Not with you, not again."

Jungkook’s eyes showed a hint of disappointment. He knew he had to respect her wishes, but it didn't make it any easier "I should probably get back to the shoot"

"Yeah, you should"

This was the end of something, and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

Jungkook turned to leave once again and that time she didn't call him to come back

As she watched him leave, Chaeri couldn't shake off the feeling that this was only the beginning of something bigger. Something that would eventually come to light and threaten to destroy everything she had worked so hard for. 

But for now, she had a shoot to finish. She took a deep breath and stood up, determined to put her emotions aside and focus on the job.

That was what she had been taught at the end, wasn't it?

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 2 (Shadow)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gun-play, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Royal Deluxe - Dangerous

Note: 1. Before reading this chapter, review the tags and warnings again. 2. Don't worry about the names. They are members of Gung-Ho-Guns. Not important.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Blood.

The first thing to trick your senses.

The moment you caught a whiff of what could only be described as the scent of evil incarnate, you wished it had been something else entirely. Then a sense of fear and urgency slithered in, whispering in your ear, "Wake up! You are in danger."

Those whispers turned into a song full of screeching and loud noises, filling your body with heart-wrenching panic. Coldness and ropes. You were lying on a stone floor with your hands and legs tethered. Your adrenaline spiked, and you barely had enough guts to keep silent.

Cracking open your crusted eyes, you found yourself in complete darkness. It took a second to process that a blindfold was strapped around your head. As the tight knot pressed against your skull, you felt a brand-new dizziness blossoming on your forehead.

Slowly, the blissful numbness of your awakening crumbled, leaving you with a chilling sensation akin to unexpected snow. You lost your breath when all-consuming pain was followed by an absolute agony engulfing your body.

God! Is this what it feels like to be alive?

Cause it couldn't be death. If it were, you'd be at peace. Although you left the house without bodyguards or your father's permission, you'd be damned if you didn't land a spot within heaven's gates. There was no way you deserved this crap.

Racking your brain, you tried to think past the pain and remember what the fuck happened to you. Vaguely, you recalled leaving a convenience store with shopping bags in hand and walking toward the parking lot. And now you were here… wherever that was. But not somewhere safe.

Christ! What were you thinking? Why you had to disobey your father, you pig-head? Ah! Is this some stupid joke, or were you kidnapped for money? Huh! Maybe you should let them know he won't even pay a penny for your ass! Or wait! Was this a retaliation for some shady business he was involved in again?

Another wave of panic crashed through you as you considered this possibility. Scenarios curtailed and evolved until you were a mass of anxiety and desperation. You could be in serious trouble.

Fuck—you were in serious trouble, and you had no idea how the fuck you were going to get out of it.

Breathing more heavily, your heart slammed so hard against your chest that it physically hurt. So, your last bit of strength went into keeping silent with the buzzing in your ear.

Where the fuck were you?

Quiet, dull voices followed, muffled by the noise in your head but steadily growing louder. Hearing their talks was hard as you strained your ears, trying to distinguish the words over the terror and pain swelling in your body.

"His maniac brother will be looking for her," a man said quietly. "But we should be fine. Master ordered us to take her before his brother. Once he shows up, Vash-sama can't get us anymore."

A particular memory knocked you over the head, flashes of getting hit on the head and being dragged on the ground bit through your skin. Well, thank you very much! This explained why the fuck your back was on fire.

There was no joking. You'd been fucking kidnapped— no shit, Sherlock!

And it must have been some Mafia's doing since no one else would dare touch Gasback's daughter. Golly! Probably that's why your father warned you to give up your shitty sneaking out habit, and you had to be proven how dumb you were. It was your curse. You had to be the rebellious child just to show resentment toward him for leaving your mother on the deathbed to fuck around with chicks and whores. In your determination to go against his wishes, following his rules wasn't even a consideration. If you weren't this stubborn, not only could you have avoided all of this shit, but you also wouldn't have blood sticking all over your face.

Stupid girl!

Your eyes swelled shut as a sob rose to your throat. A tear slipped through your lashes, and your chest shook with exertion, trying not to break down. This was your own damn fault. You walked right into the trap despite the warnings.

"You actually think we'll be able to hide from him? He's a nutcase, man," another man responded, this one with a slightly strange accent.

"All we're doing is following Master's orders. Which one are you more afraid of? Knives or Vash?"

What the fuck? Who was this Master? What the fuck was going on? Why were they afraid of those Knives or Vash dudes?

You didn't know how you got into this fucked-up situation, but you needed your father to get you out of it. But only this time, though. Because you didn't belong here, you weren't meant to be enslaved.

"I'd prefer not to fucking choose," the second man muttered. As if reassuring someone, it sounded like a hand slapping a shoulder.

"Too bad you don't have a choice, Rei-Dei. Doesn't matter. This girl right here is worth millions. She's his daughter! You know how many enemies he has? People will be frothing at the mouth to make his girl their little toy. We'll get our cut from Knives, and we'll be living fucking lavishly." He let out a burst of hyenalike laughter. "Once the money goes through, I'll have a brothel full of juicy pussies!"

Anger flooded your veins at the man's callous words, assuming women as walking holes.

"You should walk out of this dungeon alive at first, Caine," the second man— Rei-Dei— responded.

His name sounded familiar, and you thought you faintly remembered someone yelling his name after they took you.

"Don't worry, man. We'll get a head start after delivering her to the Master. He'll protect us."

A derisive snort was the only response the first man got.

Bloody hell! You really were in deep shit. Your eyes brimmed with tears, and no amount of convincing could keep them from overflowing. A sob still clawed its way up your throat, threatening to spill, but somehow, you managed to wrangle it down.

It took you a few moments to gather your thoughts. With the blindfold on, you didn't know whether they could see you. A single wrong movement could alert them. You took deep, silent breaths to calm yourself, but suddenly someone touched your thigh, and you couldn't keep the yelp from slipping free.

"Greetings from the land of the living, sweetheart," one of the men crooned. It was the first guy who was after pussies.

Your body trembled uncontrollably in horror and hatred as you flinched away from the hand. Your heart was racing, but you refused to let your fear win and summoned all your courage. In a situation like this, you were powerless to see or fight back against this person. It was a terrifying predicament that could quickly turn out badly if you weren't careful. You had no option as letting yourself get paralyzed. This threat had to be faced head-on. "Where are we?" You asked, your voice raspy and hoarse. How long were you here?

It took a while for the answer to come as if the person was analyzing your newfound bravery. "In your new home," he replied, chuckling as if you were a dog adopted by a loving family. "You'll love it here."

With a constant sense of anxiety, cold, and this baneful presence of danger, you couldn't help but feel vulnerable and exposed. You heard your teeth chattering, and their laughter drowned out the sound.

Fucking assholes!

The way you were shivering, if there hadn't been any contortion or levitation, it would have looked like you were in the middle of an exorcism. Maybe you really were. Each tremble intensified the pain, and everything hurt so badly. God! There had never been a time in your fucking life when you felt more miserable.

"Don't worry, princess. Your owner will be almost here," Rei-Dei talked, his voice grinding against your already frayed nerves. "Vash-sama is going to love you." The ominous tone in his voice tensed your body further. Something about the way he said it made you feel like you had more to fear from this Vash than any man who came your way.

"W-who is he?"

The whole room was quiet for a moment, allowing the sound of water dripping on the hard ground to reach your ears, but then Caine spoke, "The one person you want to impress the most," he said, his voice grave. There was something he was afraid of about that man. If this fucker was scared of him, what was waiting for you? "Because he will determine just how miserable your life will be until the end."

The sound of his footsteps walking away from you made you squeeze your eyes shut in relief. God dammit! Even though you hadn't been here that much, you already felt defeated. Inhale deeply and exhale slowly and steadily.

Despite feeling uneasy with every question you asked, you had to gather whatever you could before facing this monster. "Wh-why he wants me?"

"It doesn't matter why. Now shut up! I need to take a leak. If you keep talking, I'll undo my pants and paint a picture on your pretty face."

It took the disgusting threat to snap you out of your trance. Anyhow, ending the conversation was best. Although you had never been good with your mouth, you didn't want to risk your life in a place where rabid men roamed. So, you kept silent even as he walked around you. "Keep quiet like this, or you'll be surprised at how many cocks will fit in your mouth."

Your eyes rounded under the blindfold, and your teeth snapped shut. From the audible click, the man chuckled. Swallowing nervously, your heart started thumping too loud in your ears, making everything fuzzy enough that you didn't hear when someone grabbed your arm, and before you could open your mouth to scream, you felt a prick in your arm, followed by a burning sensation spreading throughout your veins. You sucked in a sharp breath. And it happened to be the last breath you took before darkness descended.

"Master's already deposited the check, so we can do whatever the fuck we want."

You stirred; the familiar voice distorted beneath the ringing in your ears. The roughness of his tone felt like scratching nails on a chalkboard. You had awoken to that damn voice too many times now, and each time was a stark reminder that you had been sucked into a nightmare and hadn't yet found a way out.

Your body was wracked and battered with agony. It felt like you were drowning, trying to reach the surface, but not succeeding because you knew the pain would only worsen. Flames were licking your nerve endings, and the closer you got to consciousness, the brighter the flares became. You were still tied in a seated position, helpless like a hunt. Right now the coldness of the wall against your back was the least of your concerns. A small prick was felt in your arm, followed by faint voices from all sides.

"Fucking idiot," Rei-Dei muttered under his breath. Then louder, he reminded him, "No, you can't do whatever you want! Because even if you survive Vash-sama, you'll have a big fucking target on your head in the shape of Gasback."

Did you hear your father's name?

Caine started talking, unconcerned, "You worry too much, Rei. We'll hide until he gets his revenge, and then, we can do whatever we want."

What revenge?

You shrank and instinctively wanted to wrap your arms around yourself, but they were still tied behind your back. It looked like they noticed you again since the room filled with elicited grunts of amusement.

"Aw, don't be shy, baby girl. We have all this money because of —"

Whatever the man was going to say was cut off by the door opening, and the entire room instantly went still. Everything went quiet like the air in the deadly space had been suddenly sucked out. The silence around here wasn't one vacancy, but rather of them holding their breath, praying for the person entering the room to show mercy.

Despite your best effort, you could only hear heavy footsteps approaching. Though you didn't know who would show up or what they would do, you knew this wasn't someone to be trifled with.

"This the girl?" the new man called out. Under the surface of his voice, you could detect no remorse or kindness, only icy coldness and an overwhelming sense of malice.

Like a bitch wagging its tail, Caine answered amusingly, "Yes, Master."

So, this was the Master they were talking about. You were kidnapped by this lunatic before another one. What an honor! The devils were vying to get you first.

"Who did this to her?" he demanded, his tone ruthless. He was no human; you had already decided. He was just a soul-sucking being without grace or compassion, only interested in fulfilling his own desires. "Her face is all damaged." His voice faded before cutting back in, a harsh shriek that sent shivers up your spine. "I prefer to bruise the apple myself, DON'T YOU KNOW?"

There was no need to be an expert to realize that no one liked eating bruised apples. Naturally, he wanted a nice, shiny apple to sink his teeth into and rip apart himself. Piece by piece.

"She looks fine," another answered, his voice all concerned. Rei-Dei's companion, you thought. It was apparent they had screwed up. A pathetic pang filled your heart at the thought of these fuckers being punished for damaging you.

"Fine? You call this fine?" The sharp snap of a slap hitting someone startled you. It was a brutal blow, and you could feel the shock even from where you were kept.

"You think I can gift something like this to my lil brother?" When he'd met with silence, a muttered "Thought so" followed.

Then, as if your worst fear had decided to come true, his presence gradually grew nearer to you. "You're quite a sneaky little bug, aren't you?"

Realizing he stood before you, you tried to steel yourself against panic. Nausea tickled your consciousness, threatening to pull you back down. You let out a sharp breath as probing, lifeless fingers slid down your blindfold and pried your eyelids open. Flickering light tortured you to the point you tried to shut them off, but he wouldn't allow it.

"You won't close them until I allow you to; otherwise, I'll tear out one by your choice." He smiled. Seeing the twisted delight on his face, it was a sickening sight. Your chin was held up, his face crowding over yours. Although the image was still blurry, you could see his light blond hair, eyebrows, pale blue eyes, and a mole under the right one. You parted your lips, but your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. He was lucky you didn't spit on him as you were tempted to, but that would be stupid, and you couldn't be stupid right now.

Jesus, what did they inject you with? Whatever it was, it was making you disoriented and dizzy.

"I know you're in a lot of pain, little bug, but I need you to tell me where it hurts."

Everything. Everything fucking hurt. "My… shoulder," you croaked out finally. "My head."

With your vision improved a little, you could see his white turtleneck and pants, which contrasted dramatically with the place's colors. Dingy and damp, the dungeon looked like an abandoned cave. A heavy, oppressive atmosphere hung heavy in the air like a burden of grief. The walls were covered in a thin layer of soot and grime. Only a few torches lined the walls, keeping the darkness at bay. The dim and eerie illumination made the whole place even more unsettling.

"Anywhere else? Your chest or stomach?"

Was he trying to fool you with this mask of civility?

"Back," you gasped, recalling how your back felt like a cheese grater had shredded it.

"That all?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. As he stared at you, he brushed his hair back.

You nodded, exhausted by the incessant questions. It hurt in a million other places, too, but your energy had depleted, and you were tired.

"You're not lying to me, are you?" His breath flared on your face, and then a scream left your mouth as he pressed your shoulder with his hand. You noticed his sick grin as endless pain surfaced over your surroundings. This man was a wretched, vile creature who delighted in inflicting pain and suffering on others. "I don't like liars, little bug." He poked your nose as he pulled back his face. "Lucky you're not one."

What the fuck was wrong with these people? Who were they?

The two men standing behind him had bottomless eyes and wicked grins on their faces, just like their dickhead Master. The pair had been so quiet, staring at you as if you were a lab rat in an experiment.

A very fucking horrible experiment.

Your eyes clashed with a dark pair first. His eyes were almost black and lifeless from the lack of warmth. Tattoos covered his skin, and serpents curling around roses on either side of his throat drew your attention first. A leather jacket was zipped up over his shoulders. In addition to his long black hair, he had sharp angular features and thick arched brows, which completed his near-feral appearance.

Next to him was a grungy-looking man with scabs on his face from apparent drug use. The mop of greasy hair was covered by a backward ball cap, a dirty wife-beater, and oversize pants. His teeth were so black, it looked like worms had infested his mouth.

Lastly, you glanced at the third man. The sick bastard. He would be attractive if he didn't look like he'd rather see you bleed to death than do anything else. There was a dark aura surrounding him. You were sure the unsettling atmosphere up here derived directly from him. He cultivated an energy that made you feel as if you were stuck in a room breathing black smoke.

The blond man hummed, thrilled by your fearful reactions, then he talked again. "Do you know who I am?" It took you a few seconds to rein all the dirty names on the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down enough to shake your head.

His eyebrow popped up on his forehead. Undoubtedly, he was the star of his own nasty show. "I'm Knives," he said. "That's my name, but it's not how you'll address me."

Frowning, you knitted your brows, unsure of how to react. Taking your face closer, he placed his lips an inch away from your ear before you could even realize what he was doing. When he whispered, "I am the head of this family." You winced. "Master, you'll call me that, just like others. You won't speak, act or even think without my permission. Understood?"

Inhaling sharply, you couldn't speak a word as your eyes were shocked.

"Should I repeat myself?" He pushed your face away harshly, causing your shoulders to hit the wall. You screwed your eyes shut in pain as a puff of air escaped you from the impact.

"Yes," you whispered, though your words were garbled between your pinched lips. "I understood." He was angry with his men for damaging the apple, yet he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you.

A cold tremor settled deep in the marrow of your bones, causing you to look away. While the dull, throbbing pain was growing more intense, it was still not as severe as when you first awoke. Whatever painkillers they pumped into your system were wearing off, and you wouldn't hesitate to ask for more. The pain in all of your muscles was so intense that you felt like a hard shell had formed around your body.

You were incredibly stiff, and every movement twinged.

This… this terror was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It wasn't like the cheap thrill you get from scary movies, and you knew you were truly fucked when you felt this way.

"Don't worry, little bug. I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered. "No more than what you can tolerate anyway."

You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat, and then your gaze fixated on a dark red puddle on the table you hadn't noticed before. You couldn't even begin to imagine what that could possibly be from.

Tracking your line of sight, the blond man turned to see what you were staring at. He barked out a laugh when he saw it. "Want to place a bet on what it's from?"

Your face contorted in revulsion.

"My bet is that some bitch lost her tongue right there," Knives chimed, turning his attention to you and leaning his cheek against his palm as if he had just seen the sweetest scenery ever.

It was as if he had just walked out of hell's gate. You were frightened by his look, but his creepy smile sent your heart sinking to the pits of your stomach. "As long as you do as you're told, I'll let you keep yours," the psycho said, pulling your attention back to him.

You bristled, anger rising in your chest. You were two seconds away from telling him that he needed to be admitted to the nuthouse, but you didn't say that out loud, given that you were already in a fucking nuthouse. Yet, you couldn't keep that loose mouth of yours shut. "You're sick," you blurted out, your voice watery and full of hate.

"Shut up!" he screeched. The calm man completely lost his mind as if you had hit the jackpot. His chest heaved with anger. Heat radiated from him in waves, solar flares of fury lashing at you as he seethed. Then he grabbed your hair and slammed your head against the ground, sending fire racing across your scalp. You cried out; the sound quickly muffled when he yanked your head back, forcing you to stare at his disgusting face, nearly spitting with ire. He was on his knees, eyes wild as he hissed, "Be careful what you say, or you'll suffer way worse than this. To fucking God, I'll make you wish you were dead."

Tears flowed down your cheeks, slobber nearly pouring from your mouth as sobs racked your throat. His slap landed across your face, your ear ringing as he continued to hit you mindlessly until you were breathless from the pain. "You fucking useless bitch!" he shouted, but through the pain and rivers glistening in your eyes, you could no longer see him. Indiscernible pleas fell from your lips, but you didn't even know what you were saying.

"Get in here," he snapped to someone, but you couldn't see who. Eventually, he released you, nearly knocking your head off the floor again, only to feel some other weight pressing down on you.

You wiggled, attempting to roll out of his hold, but the attempts were all vain, and he forced you back down. "Stop!" you screamed, your vision blackening with panic and tears, but then you felt the cold metal of the gun nozzle against your head.

"Wait, wait, please, please," you begged, desperate to get away but unable to. You could see Knives' shiny shoes walking away from you, laughing at your misery until the squeaking of the wooden door filled the dungeon, and someone charged in.

"HOW DARE YOU?" a man, probably standing in the doorway, shouted as if the rage within him was boiling, building up like lava about to erupt.

How do volcano eruptions begin? Pressure. It was brewing inside this new arrival. As the fiery magma erupted, hatred thickened, and bloodlust grew denser. Eventually, he would fucking explode, and you hoped he would burn this whole goddamn place down.

In no time, you heard gunfire and saw a man fall to the ground, his blood splattering across your face. The weight on your back was gone as your cheek hit the floor's rough surface, a chill slowly seeping into your skin. The shock shuddered through you, but the scream of terror never left your lips. You were utterly terrified, your whole body shaking as your heart tried to tear open your chest.

All the pain beat like a pulse behind your eyes, making it impossible for you to turn your head. Your lashes dripped warm crimson blood when your gaze was fixed on Caine's lifeless limbs a few feet away. You had no idea if he was dead or alive and why nobody reached for help.

You could hear the new man's heavy, determined footsteps as he stomped past the scene, his boots slowly clattering against the stones. As he stepped on the red puddle, the soles of his shoes made a soft wet squishing sound against the stained floor. 

He wore all black. His boots were made of leather, black as the night sky, now covered with the drops of blood moon. His pants were the same, a dark shade of black that hugged his legs tightly. With his black shirt and gloves, he looked like a shadow rising from the depths of hell.

The entire surface of his neck was covered with tattoos, dark and intricate designs. It looked like a maze or some mysterious symbol. While his sun-colored spiked hair stood out in the darkness, the loop in his left ear completed the sinister ensemble.

As he approached, your pain-soaked body trembled with fear, but he did not even glance in your direction.

Despite his lack of emotion, his movements were not as sterile as Knives. There was something tired about this one. As if he wasn't born this way, but had cared for so long, he was left with nothing but rage. Someone had taken away his heart. But he was no hero, and you had no admiration for him. He might have been a good man once upon a time, but now he was cold and emotionless like the rest. You didn't dare to move your eyes to look at his face. There were already so many Satans you had met today.

Pointing at the corpse, suddenly Re-Dei's shout echoed in the room, "What? Why, Vash-sama?"

Only then did the beast stop, his boots trampling blood pool without a second thought. You glanced at him from the aside. Rei-Dei was aimed at by the man in black who leveled his firearm. "Nobody gets away with touching what's mine. Got a problem?"

Despite being disgusted by how he named you his property, you couldn't ignore the clear message behind his actions — he wouldn't hesitate to use his weapon, and just like Rei, you had better think very carefully about what you would do. The consequences could be dire if anyone chose their words poorly with this man.

The sudden movement of Vash frightened Rei-Dei, and as he stared up at the man's cold, predatory gaze, his fear and terror grew. He struggled to speak, his voice stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

"N-no, bo-ss." He turned and watched his Master stand there, seemingly unfazed by the death of one of his own. He must already learn that his Master cared little about him.

The air was thick with tension, the man on the edge and ready for any sign of aggression, but Knives just seemed to be enjoying this little theater, watching people die with a cruel relish.

"I know you're grieving, but I thought we'd already established that you weren't supposed to kill my men," Knives finally spoke, but nonchalantly. For him, this was all a fun game.

Vash's face turned from Rei-Dei to his brother with a cold, contemptuous sneer. He wasn't afraid of Knives and refused to be intimidated by his words. "I thought you'd keep your dogs on leash," he said ruthlessly. "Because certainly, I enjoy putting them to sleep."

Rei looked at his Master's expressionless face, and you could sense the fury burning up like a furnace inside Knives, but somehow he managed to keep a calm exterior. He was the type of guy who wouldn't let anyone see him get rattled, but he wouldn't let the insult go unanswered. You were sure he would never give anyone, not even his little brother, the satisfaction of seeing his rage.

Perhaps that's why he gazed at you, a mistletoe smile spreading across his lips. The subject was going to be changed by baiting you. "Did you like my gift, Vash?" he spoke in a measured tone, his words dripping with cold malice and contempt. He pointed at you like a piece of filth that needed to be discarded after being used and abused.

It looked like Vash was insistent on ignoring your existence and the fucks happening around here. For him, this was just another day. He seemed so carefree, spinning his gun in his hand. He was quick and agile, easily handling the deadly weapon as if it was an extension of his arm. His gaze was locked on his big brother. "Returning what you've stolen isn't a gift, Kni." In a fluid motion, he returned the revolver to its holster.

Knives' smile turned into a snarl as the words struck him like a hammer blow.

Moments of silence, then they began talking again, their voices barely louder than whispers, yet filling you with disgust. There may be a common bond between these brothers, but they seemed to have little affection for one another.

The power these creatures wielded over your life was beyond comprehension. What would happen to you as a pawn in their twisted games when they stopped playing? Where the hell was your father and his men? Why were you still here? What did they want from you?

"Anyway, I've got to go, party pooper," Knives said. Letting out a sigh, he grabbed his coat. You caught him as he looked at you smugly, pleased with himself and his handiwork.

In a flash, he turned to leave, Rei following him, but Vash stood in the way. His grip tightened around Knives' arm and pulled him closer. "You didn't kill her," he whispered, probably staring at the bloodied footsteps he'd left behind. You couldn't see the upper half of his face because of the lack of light.

"She wasn't my toy to break," Knives retorted with arrogance and a sense of superiority; he was such a proud boy who wouldn't even apologize for playing with his little brother's stuff without his permission. There was no doubt in his mind he was untouchable.

"Do anything like this once more, and you'll have the displeasure of not seeing me again." His monotone voice carried a distinct threat. Knives remained silent, which meant the younger brother was serious about what he had just said, not giving away empty promises.

Vash released his arm and walked aside, opening the way for his cursed family's head. His hands moved swiftly as he searched through his pockets, his fingers quick and decisive, not wanting to waste any time. He tipped his head slightly to the side as he rummaged through his belongings. A blue pack of cigarettes was pulled from his pocket and slid between his lips smoothly. 

"What that means?" Knives' tone was bitter as he stood and stared. He was obviously caught off guard, not expecting his brother to threaten him in such a manner. Now you could see it. Knives only concern was his twin. He only cared about him.

Holding the cig with his teeth, he smiled at his twin. "Fuck around and find out." Turning away his head, he flicked his lighter and brought the flame close to the cigarette. A faint light illuminated his face briefly, and then darkness enveloped him once more. Probably he didn't need to look at his brother's face to see how worried his pale blue eyes were. Maybe that was his intention. Maybe this was his perfect gamble. Vash might have known his weak spot and wasn't afraid of pushing it.

Knives stormed out of the dungeon with his dog 3 steps behind him, slamming the door shut. Your heart sank when you realized you were now alone with the other maniac, and somehow, you felt even more helpless, knowing no one would be here to stop him. You hate it here. You hate it here. You hate it here. You hate it here.

Walking toward the bloodied table, Vash stood before it as if he could see what most likely had happened there. He took a deep drag on his cigar, letting out the smoke in a slow and steady stream. The small white cloud swirled around him, giving him an ominous aura.

It wasn't pleasant to watch. He wasn't one of those smokers you used to see among your father's men. Instead of puffing away with pleasure, he was trying to keep as much smoke in as possible, ensuring that it would burn his lungs and nostrils – a cold and ruthless Harakiri.

He extinguished the flame of his cigarette by pressing it against the blood, and turned toward you.

Close your eyes and prepare for the worst.

Your body curled in on itself, the lump lodged painfully in your throat, but you didn't have it in you to swallow it down. A whimper escaped your lips, like the cries of a wounded animal.

You felt a mass descend on you. Your heart picked up speed, and fear pumped through your veins, settling low in your stomach, eating at your insides like acid. The smell of something sweet, rainwater, and smoke flew around you. Very odd in a place like this, but that wasn't important right now. You flailed uselessly, yet your fists were unable to escape the ropes.

"Shhh," he whispered. You fought harder when you remembered what those douchebags had said about this nutty twin. Screaming for him to leave, you braced yourself for a blow, but instead, you felt a gloved hand running throw your hair, his thumb caressing your bruised cheek. "Shhh, it's okay."

You opened your eyes. It was not very often that people surprised you. Since you expected the worst from everyone, yet when you looked into his eyes, you couldn't believe he was a cold-blooded killer.

Million shades of blue swimming in warm, sunlit waves. His eyes, they resembled sea glass, glacier water, wet stone walls, and broken light on rainy streets. Fire on the ocean, you thought, as if imagining such a thing was possible. Yet nothing was behind them. Empty. He had been robbed of his humanity.

Blowing out a sharp breath, you forced yourself to fight, gritting your teeth from the aches in your body. The little energy you had left dissipated, and all you could do was sob. Grasping your throat, he tilted your head up, his fingers squeezing your air pipe. You started coughing, just barely, making out his expression. His face broke into an evil smile, reeking of nothing but dark intentions. Biting his bottom lip, he petted your head almost reverently, staring at you as if you were a prized possession.

Then, just as your eyes began to focus, the press on your throat made your vision blur once again, and your eyelids grew heavy. You could no more resist the deep pull inside you, trying to close your eyes. There was no point in fighting it. No, not when it would take you away from this man, from the pain. Because you knew, there was more to it.

"Welcome home, love," he whispered.

p.s: My apologies, but I'm having a great time writing this.

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Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon

[devilsaquamarine]

Only a few days late but because I was trying to come up with some new ones to add but I like what I’ve got (Some biographies won’t be as detailed as others)

I bring to you my peculiars

To start let’s begin with their ymbryne

Miss Julia Starling (born surname, Lynn).

Born 1853, physical age 58.

Peculiarity, Ymbryne

She first developed her peculiar talents at 10 and was discovered by a ymbryne after flying throughout London for 3 days straight watching over plays and performances and talking with every bird she could find.

Her parent were kind but cautious people. Her mother was a sales model for a starting makeup brand and her father was a butcher (not by choice. purely due to it being their family legacy that the first boy would take the butcher's business). When Julia discovered her abilities she showed them off immediately. And while her parents were astounded and intrigued, they also worried of what the neighbours might think. What would happen if they found out their daughter could become a bird. There would be riots. Shouts of “FREAK” and “MONSTER”. So when a one Miss Avocet showed up and told them her daughter could be taken to a place that is safe for people like her, and Miss Avocet showed them she was like Julia, they did what was best and let her go.

Julia was in the Ymbrine Academy for 40 years. She often spent her nights sneaking out and flying into town or putting on small productions for the follow ymbrynes in training which never failed to get a laugh. At times she struggled, especially with studying but in the end, she achieved a passing grade and became a full-fledged ymbryne. Taking on the name of her bird form, Miss Starling.

In the following years, she spent a lot of time working in the peculiar ministry under many roles until she finally decided it was time to make her loop. In 1955 she created a loop in the London Apollo Theatre. After growing up hearing of tourist loops she wanted to restart the practice despite the ongoing hollow issue. But to her better judgement (and A LOT of persuasion by other ymbrynes) she decided instead to make it a home for peculiar children, those who seek the arts. So on a day during a week when the theatre was closed (which she may or may not have influenced hypnotism), she outfitted the building to make it a place to call home, including multiple pocket loops of a single room entered using a specific key to each for her future children.

.

Amelia

Born 1894, physical age 6

Peculiarity, eye colour changing & Ymbryne (secret)

Amelia first discovered her ability to change her eye colours when she was 4 at the park looking into the lake. She eventually figured out that the colour changed to match her feelings. However, if wouldn’t be another 60 years until she discovered she could transform into a bird. But after growing up around ymbrynes and seeing how much stress and work they do, Amelia decided to try and hide that side of herself out of fear of all the responsibilities that come with being a ymbryne.

Amelia would become one of the first peculiars to join miss starling loop and has never left because of how much she enjoys living there.

Rose

Born 1937, physical age 15

Peculiarity, personal cloud

Rose first began showing her peculiarity when she was 11. She was become strangely cold or warm depending on how happy or sad she was. This then evolved into becoming damp wen sad and eventually a cloud grew over her head which reflected her emotions.

She, like Amelia transferred to miss starlings loop when it opened with her crush, Oliver. However in 1983 Oliver had a mental breakdown and ran from the loop. He eventually surname to rapid aging becoming 53 and loosing his mind. He was shipped away to a new loop for care and since then rose became very hostile as a defence from her sadness.

Isaac

Born 1943, Physical age 14

peculiarity, invisible arms

When Isaac was born his arms were shrivelled and entirely vestigial and so as a baby they had been amputated. However, when he was 8 he discovered he could make objects float. not just float he could feel things like he reached out to touch it. that's when he went to his mother in the kitchen and in the middle of her baking, he slammed his hands into her bowl of flour making them visible.

over time he became used to his new arms and made a few friends with his neat trick including a fellow peculiar called Quincy whom he eventually joined in Miss Starling's loop

Quincy

Born 1944, Physical age 13

peculiarity, stomach mouth

Quincy was always a very by-the-books kid. he liked rules and he liked order. that was until at the age of 11 his mouth began getting smaller and tighter and his belly button grew. Quincy knew this wasn't normal but was afraid of his parents and worried what would happen if he told them. eventually, however, his lips became so tight that he couldn't open his mouth wide enough to eat. so not knowing what else to do, he put it into the hole in his stomach which had now become a long black pit replacing where his organs should be. and in the food went. and again. until his entire plate was empty. His parents were horrified and locked him away in his room. so it didn't come to any surprise for them that when they came back a week later to retrieve the empty plates of food they left for him, Quincy was gone with the window wide open.

after a week of living alone on the streets, Quincy eventually found a friend who talked to him and found his stomach mouth really interesting. he was taken home to his new friends house, fed, and cared for as best they could. and that friend was Isaac.

he was soon found by Miss Starling and taken in along with Issac and they haven't left each other's side since.

Celine

born 1971, physical age 17

peculiarity, voice mimicry

Celine discovered her ability to mimic voices at the age of 6 using it to make her friends laugh. as she got older she joined her school's drama clubs and used to voice mimicking to perfectly portray characters, which gained her a lot of popularity among her fellow actors. and over time she learned she loved that popularity and didn't like to share the starlight with anyone else and became very hostile to anyone who threatened her top spot.

Ryan

Born 1989, Physical Age 17

Peculiarity, Physical Air

jack never liked attention, he was always the kid who would sit in the back of class and do the minimal work required. At home, he shut himself away and only talked with his little brother Jack, but would often have arguments with his parents. until one day he got fed up with them and left, using his peculiarity to make makeshift huts to stay in for short periods. until eventually he was found by Miss Starling and took into the loop. immediately he did not get along with Celine and the two would often have large arguments till one of them walked off in a huff. he came close on many occasions to leaving the loop after their fights but after Jack joined the loop he decided it was time to stop running and care for his brother.

Ryan tends to take walks outside the loop quite often but not enough to be recognisable and tends to stay up to date with modern fashion and happenings.

Jack

Born 1993, Physical age 15

Peculiarity, magnetic field manipulation

after Ryan left their family jack began taking the main brunt of their parent's fights and arguments. like Ryan he began shutting himself away due to that, however he didn't leave. then one day when his parents were yelling at him, he began getting so angry and frustrated, that everything he felt exploded out of him in a wave and every electronic device in a 200 foot radius exploded. that night jack ran like hell but it was only a few hours before he was found my Miss Starling with Ryan at her side. and since then jack has been trying to master his peculiarity to not let it get out of hand like that again.

[melonba11s]

request challenge thing

strade being silly (up to interpretation what silliness) because he finds out its ren's birth day :)

Of course! I decided to play with a Ren who has only been Strade's captive for a few months! I wrote this on my walk home so pardon any grammar mistakes!

Contains: captivity, Ren, Strade

"Aww, Ren! You didn't tell me it was your birthday!"

Ren had bristled after accidentally letting it slip while sitting at breakfast with Strade. the "oh, I'm 19 now..." had been mumbled without thought. Now Strade had offered a special surprise, and Ren wasn't sure if he liked that...

In the past few months of captivity, surprises from Strade often ended up being painful, anything to make Ren cry and scream for him.

Ren paced in the living room, unable to help the budding anxiety in his stomach. What would Strade return with? His panic was bringing up pictures of wicked chainsaws and extra strength drain cleaner.

The door banging open made him jump several feet in the air. At first he made a move to hide but... Strade would find him anyways. So instead he opted to just sit on the couch, staring ahead stiffly.

"I'm back!" Strade dragged out the vowel of "back" in a sing songy voice. He came into the living room rather quickly, his arms surprisingly laden with bags.

Ren watched in disbelief as Strade pulled out an entire grocery store cake from one bag, and a box of chocolates and what looked like a family size bucket of fried chicken from another.

"I got the sides for the chicken somewhere in one of these bags... but for now-" he paused, finally looking at Ren's nervous expression. Strade's smile faltered a little, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"what's wrong, buddy?" he asked, approaching Ren with one of the bags. "you look.... scared." Ren quickly moved to clean up his expression, opting for one of polite surprise.

"Nothing! Nothings wrong!" he said a little too quickly. Strades grin came back though as he dumped the bag in Rens lap.

"That's good! Sorry it's not wrapped but, go ahead and open your present!" Strade stood over him, looking oddly gleeful.

The bag was too light to be any heavy weapons... Ren swallowed with difficulty, imagining now instead nails. 19 of them. One for each year.

Not wanting too put it off any longer, Ren tipped the bag over, wincing as the innards hit his lap. Then his eyes widened in surprise.

A brand new Nintendo Switch. Several games he glanced over, which all looked to be current best sellers... It all must have costed Strade hundreds of dollars.

"S-Strade! You didn't have too!" Ren's voice was several pitches higher than usual, suddenly full of apprehension. Surely Strade was going to want something in return..

A heavy hand ruffled his hair though as Strade laughed.

"Of course I did! It's not everyday a fox turns 19... Now! Let's get settled in before the food gets cold. Go ahead and turn on whatever you want."

Strade walked away, now busying himself with unpacking tonights dinner. Potatoes, Rolls, Gravy, Macaroni Salad... Ren suddenly found himself thinking... Strade never really ate vegetables. Or many homemade meals aside from grilled meat.

And he really felt he should thank his captor, as strange as that seemed.

"Strade..." Ren moved towards the man, cradling his gifts. "Uhm... If you want I can... cook you know?"

Strade made a noise that at first Ren mistook for a grunt of annoyance. But Strade only glanced at him with a cocked eyebrow, making Ren realize it was more of a confused glance.

"If you want to cook, Ren, by all means go ahead. Just write down what you want on the grocery list. Now, what are we watching tonight?"

Strade shoved a plate full of food into his already full arms. Ren felt his heart pick up a bit as he thought.

"Let me think a bit longer." he said quietly, he had a lot on his mind now after all.

[staticspaces]

Coffee Time

Check out the brand new video here and you aren't going to want to miss this intro!!

https://youtu.be/ohPLRY92yZ4

Let's begin this brand new location with a look at a few exterior photos and a sneak peak of the inside!!

In this week's post we will be taking a look at a Coffee Time restaurant that has been abandoned since 2009.  Coffee Time has been around since the 80s, it is a coffee shop that serves coffee (obviously), donuts, sandwiches and soups, among other things.  It has always taken a backseat to the more popular chains such as Tim Hortons or Starbucks and is similar to say Country Style in terms of sales and reach.  I personally have never been a fan of Coffee Time, their coffee was never as good as the other brands and their food always just looked less appealing as well.  Growing up before I had a car, the closest coffee shop to home was a Coffee Time and I have many fond memories of sitting in the restaurant till all hours of the night with friends...who knows, maybe their menu has improved since then!

With its headquarters in Scarborough, Ontario, Coffee Time operates over 100 stores throughout Ontario and Alberta.  Founded in 1982 by Tom Michalopoulos in Bolton, Ontario.  The first few stores were operated under license agreements until they began franchising the restaurants in the late 80s.  In October 2006 the brand's parent company, Chairman's Brand Corporation bought the Alton Food Group, which owned Robin's Donuts, 241 Pizza and Mrs. Powell's Cinnamon Buns.  Starting in 2014 Coffee Time began updating and rebranding their locations, apparently this location missed its chance by only five years.

As for this particular store, I think it closed mainly due to being in a bad location.  It was part of a larger building that housed other businesses, when the restaurant closed, they built a wall to separate it from the rest of the building and it remained in the same state, untouched for over a decade.  The building also appeared to be in really rough shape, the roof looks as though it was beginning to fail before 2015.  The McDonald's closed in late 2015, the gas station and go-kart track would later close in 2019 but more about those later in part two of the video.  Since then the building has deteriorated even further, the roof has developed holes and the vandals have taken over.  In the spring or 2022 the entire building now sits boarded up and likely awaiting the wrecking ball before the property is redeveloped.